Malcolm and My Neighbors

DISCLAIMER:

This story is fictional. No real boys have been harmed in the writing.

Certain characters have been inspired by ones created by Linwood Boomer and copyrighted by Regency Entertainment. The main characters also contain traits of people I really knew. The television show "Malcolm in the Middle" is copyright 2000 by Twentieth Century Fox Television, Regency Entertainment, and Monarchy Enterprises. This story in no way implies the true sexual orientation of the actors or characters they portray. It is pure fantasy.

Malcolm and My Neighbors Chapter 15 Burning Butts and Washed Out Guts

• • • Part 1 – Chili Dinner * * *

After a terribly hot "football team against coach" roleplay in which I had been abused by the young lads, I had just finished a group shower with Reese, Malcolm, and Dewey. I'm starting to run out of words to describe them and the things we do and the way it makes me feel. I'll let you just picture us all in the shower together... Nice, huh? Believe me, it was.

Now, I was in the kitchen chopping onions. No, it was not for the next sex scene. There would be no more tonight, lest my cock just fall off. I was feeling pain in my crotch and muscles in general in that region after the 5 orgasms I'd already had this day. The onions were for the huge pot of chili I was making. I was not going to be one of those people who got fast food every night. Nope, I was going to learn how to cook and tonight's recipe was my first try. But how hard can it be to follow a recipe? And what can you do to mess up chili?

Through my blurry vision, I saw a figure enter from the outside. "Malcolm?" I asked. "What?" he said. "Nothing," I replied, "I said you're name because I can't half see from cutting up all these onions." I made my way to the sink and wiped them with a wet paper towel, then a dry one. Eventually, I was recovering. I don't know about this cooking... But, here I was... I turned the burner on under the skillet and dumped in the onions, then added the beef. Pretty soon, there was a wonderful smell. Like I said, cooking was awesome!

While the meat was cooking, I put the beans and other stuff in the big pot. It was my mom's recipe, so I was sure it would be good. Malcolm stood beside me and leaned into me at the stove. I was wearing an apron to protect my naked body, but he wasn't. "Malcolm," I said, giving him a kiss on top of the head, "you better not stand there or the grease from the beef will splatter on you and burn you." So he got behind me and wrapped his arms around me under the apron, his smooth stomach rubbing on my naked butt, while he nuzzled his sweet face into the center of my back. Gosh, now I wish that I wasn't cooking. "You're a good boy," I said, as I stirred the meat, reaching behind me with my left hand and giving his buttcheek a nice squeeze (it was the only thing I could reach). He squeezed me back in return.

I had kind of figured out a pattern to the boys when it came to attention and affection. Dewey was always quick to give a hug or kiss when asked, but he seldom initiated it; not because he didn't like it but because he was too busy running around being...well, being Dewey. Though the youngest, he was the most self-sufficient of the three.

Reese was definitely the most enthusiastic, the one who would knock you down with a hug and pet you, cuddle, kiss, but then if the channel changed to something else in his brain, bang! – he was gone and off to the next thing.

Malcolm was the most needy and insecure. He sought out stolen, private moments with me. Of the three, he was the least comfortable in his own skin. You would think that with his high IQ, he would be the most secure, but his smartness seemed to be just one more thing to him that set him apart and made him feel different. He didn't fit in and he worried about the fact that he didn't fit in. If anything, Reese and Dewey were happy living in the moment, while Malcolm's huge brain allowed him to imagine tons of scenarios for future situations, and few of them looked good. So hey, I was here to affirm him and give him all the affection I could.

"Hey Malcolm," I said, "that was really nice what you did for me when we were doing the roleplay. "What?" he asked. (He knew.) "Jacking me off at the end," (yeah, I just spit in out) "it was wonderful," I said, still stirring the beef. "Oh, well..." he let go of my waist and stepped back, "I didn't have anything else to do, so I figured it would be nice, especially after I was so mean to you." "You were good at being mean," I said. "It was all an act, wasn't it?" "Oh, yeah," he said, casually, and then, "OH YEAH! Honest, I would never... I mean, you didn't take any of it personally did you? I was just acting, I was trying to please you, that's all." "Just doing it all for me?" I replied, "so it wasn't any fun for you?" (Yes, I was messing with him a little bit.) "Well..." he started, "yeah, it was kinda fun – being the bully, the tough guy for once." "I think you're plenty tough, Sunshine," I said. "But what about jacking me off?" I asked.

"Oh, well...I... I was just curious you know, plus like I said, I thought I'd do you a favor. It was kind of cool, I mean, I could feel your cum going through it. But then, it was kinda gay too, I mean... I don't know if it's something I would want to do again... not every day, certainly." I looked around at him, my eyes full of mirth. Gosh, the poor little guy worked so hard trying to give me just the right answer. "Malcolm," I said, "I told you last week, you don't have to worry about doing or not doing anything for me. I love whatever you bring to the table." He looked up shyly and smiled. I got him under the arms and pulled his young, 55-pound body up to me in a hug, his legs wrapped around my waist, his head resting sideways on my shoulder. I could smell the meat though.

"Shoot, Malcolm, I really gotta stir the meat," I said as I put him down. "But if you can spend the night tomorrow, then it can be just you and me – we can hug all night – or do whatever else you want." "Really?" he said, looking up at me, his eyes aglow. "Promise," I said.

The beans and stuff in the pot was just starting to simmer. I gave it a good stir and then a taste. "Hmm," I thought to myself in the first split second, "not ba—" and then aloud: "AAHHH!!!" "What's wrong?!" cried Malcolm. I ran to the sink and grabbed a glass and rinsed my mouth out as fast as I could. I was on fire! FUCK!!! This wasn't chili, it was a pot of lit gasoline!! What did I do wrong?

"Too—" I started to speak but then out came a cough. "Too hot!" I finally said as I pulled myself together. I grabbed the phone – no, I wasn't calling 911, but the next best thing. "Hello, Mom?" I said into the phone." Okay, I don't need to replay the whole conversation but the brunt is that her recipe called for chili SEASONING which has thickeners and herbs and all kinds of things along with a little chili pepper. I had instead used pure chili PEPPER – and a huge amount apparently! But hey, you didn't throw out food in our family. Under her advice, I added all the ketchup I had, some water and flour, and sugar to taste (a lot). It was still burning hot, but edible. But we were men, right? We like our chili hot! That's what I told the boys anyway, as we set down to the table.

Malcolm knew what was coming so he just sat there waiting for Reese and Dewey to take a taste. Little Dewey's eyes about bugged out of his head, then he spit it out right back into the bowl – and some across the table. About this time, Reese had taken his first taste as well. His eyes bugged out also, then he swallowed. He grabbed his drink, and gulped some down, then sputtered and fanned his mouth, panting hard and cussing: "Fuck! Shit!" he cried. "Yeah, fuck, shit!" echoed Dewey in his high 6-year-old voice. Malcolm and I were laughing uncontrollably.

Finally, when we all recovered, I reminded them that I had warned them that the chili was hot. Malcolm also gleefully shared how I had freaked out and gotten my mouth burned at my first taste. Anyway, we proceeded carefully – very small bites with lots of liquid to wash it down. I also had bought a big block of cheese and cut it into finger-sized strips. We more-or-less took a bite of cheese with every spoon of chili – it smoothed out the fire. And aside from it being peppery hot, it actually had a good flavor. And before long, as we adjusted to it somewhat, we started having contests – all three of the boys were coming up with things: It was, "Let's see who can hold it in their mouth the longest," and "See how many bites you can take and swallow in 10 seconds," and, "See who can put the biggest spoonful in their mouth." When all was said and done, we were stuffed. We had eaten half of the big pot, along with 2 pounds of cheese. Everybody managed to let out a big burp as an exclamation point to the fiery meal.

It was dark by the time we were done and being tired and full, we decided to veg out on the king size mattress downstairs and watch a movie. I chose, "Honey, I Shrunk the Kids." It was an old movie from my childhood, and they said they had seen it many times. But I told them I didn't want to put on something too exciting because hopefully, we could fall asleep soon then have lots of daylight to play in the pool tomorrow. After some complaints, they agreed, and I pushed the play button.

I settled myself in the middle of the mattress, leaning my back up against the sofa. As if the boys were reading the fantasies in my brain, sweet little Dewey parked his naked butt right down between my legs and leaned back, resting his head on my upper stomach. Malcolm and Reese got on either side of me, snuggled close and leaned into me, each resting their head on my chest. I wrapped my arms around their bare shoulders. We were all bare – totally – had been all weekend, except for occasional aprons and jockstraps. I had never been so happy. Never imagined that I could be or would be so happy. Snuggled up with them like that, skin to skin, ready to drift off to sleep – I was already in a dream.

• • • Part 2 – Burning Butts * * *

I don't remember when I fell asleep. I think the kids (in the movie) were up in the attic, trying not to fall in between the floorboards. But I sure do remember waking up. I was awakened by stomach cramps. It was early because the sun was just coming up. Anyway, I ran to the toilet. I farted enough to fill up a hot air balloon but not much poop came out – I had to really squeeze and what came out was only in little, mushy pieces. And when it came out, it made my butthole burn. Oh shit! (No pun intended.)

As I was sitting there making sounds like the Fourth of July, little Malcolm walked in almost asleep and I think if I hadn't shouted, he would have set right down on me. "Upstairs!" I cried. His eyes flew open in shock and then I heard him run up the steps. I could also hear his big, loud farts coming all the way from upstairs at the other end of the house. And the smell! Fuck – the bathroom smelled like a back-upped sewer filled with rotting food. Yuck! Finally I got out all I thought I could, although it seemed like I had more inside me that just wouldn't budge. Is that what they call "constipation?"

About the time I was getting up, I heard an enormous fart coming from the family room, then Reese giggling. "Ewww," said Dewey as he was barely waking up, "you stink." "I'm a man!" said macho little Reese, "and I fart me some man farts!" "You're a pig!" cried Dewey and I heard a slapping sound as he must have hit Reese. A second after that, Reese came walking into the downstairs bathroom, leaving a trail of loud, gaseous farts behind him. Even though we had eaten the same thing, his farts smelled 10 times worse than mine. I ran out to wash my hands at the bar sink before I started heaving. "Fuck, it STINKS in here!" I heard him cry from the bathroom. And I laughed.

He sat there, actually laughing at his own noises which, frankly, sounded like a herd of elephants running across a field of bubble wrap. Ah...middle school boys...they sure know how to make their own fun sometimes.

I went upstairs to get shorts and underwear for us. I had put the boys' clothes in the guestroom. I went to the hall bathroom door and held up some size 10 shorts and white briefs to Malcolm. "These yours?" I asked him. "Yesss," he grunted out, his face contorted, trying to push out a turd. I turned on the exhaust fan – "Sure stinks in here," I said. "What happened, did you dig up something dead and eat it?" "It was YOUR chili!" he yelled at me, picking up a spare roll of toilet paper and throwing it at me. "Ah!" he winced, "it burns too!" "Yeah, I know," I said. Jokes aside, what was I going to do? I couldn't call their parents after I promised not to disturb them. And no way in hell was I going to discuss this with MY parents. But what if it was like this all day? I still felt like I had to shit but couldn't. And my asshole was on fire.

"Uncle Jay!" I heard Reese cry from downstairs. When I walked into the bathroom, he was standing up, bent over, trying to wipe his butt. Man, it stunk! I looked in the toilet and saw that he had put about half a roll of toilet paper in there already. "Reese, you're going to clog up my pipes!" I said. "My pipes are already clogged!" he responded. "Why didn't you use the wipes?" I asked. "Huh?" he said, "oh, I forgot," he replied. "Anyway, I can't get all this crap off and it's all squishy and burning. Can you do it for me?" What the fuck. A 12-year-old boy was asking me, a 22-year-old grown man to wipe his ass? Is that not the most bizarre thing you've ever heard? But then, why did my cock twitch when he said it? Oh shit, oh fuck, oh NO! It was rising! My cock was going up! I was getting a boner! There was no way to hide it. I was going to put on some shorts while upstairs but then I came right back down when I heard Reese call me.

"Well turn around so I can get to you," I said, thinking quickly. I bent over, trying to hide my predicament and my cock shot up to its full hard 6 inches just as he turned his back to me. I grabbed a wipe and stood there a second. On the one hand, I already thought of the boys as sort of like little brothers or like my children. So, wiping his butt shouldn't be any big deal. I mean, hopefully, I would be a father one day and changing diapers and wiping butts all the time. Then on the other hand, this was a 12-year old big-boy butt. With stinky big-boy shit stuck and smeared all over it. On the third hand, it was the hottest, sexiest, hunkiest little butt in the whole wide world. And he was offering me access to it. I decided to take what I could get. Any chance to do anything with Reese's butt was worth whatever the price.

So, I swallowed, reached down and pulled a buttcheek aside and took a look. I gritted my teeth (although I was still rock hard) and ran the wipe up his crack three times. That actually got a good bit of the mess – yuck! One more wipe and I told him I thought he was clean, but that I wanted him to put on the boxers and shorts I had brought down for him. "It doesn't feel clean," he said. "It feels like there's something stuck in there. And it burns," he whined. "Well," I said, "I'm sort of having the same problem. But I don't know what else to do – and in this position, I can't really see anything else." And then he did something... It was kind of like the first time he came over when he shoved his shorts and boxers down to let me check his butthole for injury... He just walked around me, laid down on the bathroom floor, put his feet up and over his head, and got his ass way up in the air, supporting himself with his hands on his waist, elbows on the floor. Fuck, my hard cock throbbed. "How about now?" he asked, in all innocence, as he spread his legs wide.

As I had countless times already with him, I felt faint. Forget the shit, forget the farts, forget the smell. I was looking, unabashedly, at the beautiful, muscular, open and exposed ass of a hunky 12-year-old boy! It was so obscene – spread so wide, pushed so high up in the air toward me, winking open and closed at me! And just...well... just there for me – to ogle, drool over, take in with his total, naïve permission. Oh fuck! I had to steady myself on the sink as I bent over for a closer inspection. "Is your dick hard from WIPING my ass?!" Reese asked me. "Um, no, Reese," I said, thinking quickly, "I'm hard from looking at your butthole like this. It brings me right back to that first day we met when I got to play with your butt. (Actually, that was all true, but what Reese said was true as well.) He just looked at me with a shit-eating grin and a gleam in his hazel eyes. But thankfully, he didn't press it. So I leaned down further to examine this hard-on inducing hole.

"Hmm," I said, almost panting, "I don't see anything." Then I took a sniff. "It sure smells though." And then he let out a big fart, cracking himself up as Dewey walked in. "Pig!" said Dewey. "YOU'RE a pig!" said Reese. "No, YOU'RE a pig," said Dewey. "No, YOU'RE a—" "GUYS!" I interrupted, "we get it! You're both pigs, alright?" And then I let out a huge, long, loud fart. "YOU'RE a pig!" they both yelled at me in unison, then convulsed with laughter. So there we were – farting, laughing, Dewey's poop splashing into the bowl. It was an orchestra of insanity.

Finally, we calmed down. I got Reese cleaned up, then I had to do the same thing for Dewey, who, like Reese, laid down on the floor and threw his legs back over his shoulders, putting his butt high in the air for me. Man!

Still, the one trip to the bathroom wasn't going to do it, and even if we could get all our shit out, that wasn't going to stop the itching and the burning...man, the burning. "Did you guys ever have a problem like this before?" I asked them, as we gathered in the family room, now all in underwear and shorts. "We're constipated," said Malcolm, "it's what they give enemas for." "We're going to get enemas?!" asked Reese, definitely not happy at the prospect. "What's an emmana?" asked Dewey. "It's ENEMA, you dork!" said Malcolm. "Malcolm," I said, "remember what we said about name calling?" "Alright," he said, "it's enema, you silly boy." "I'm not silly," said Dewey, "and what's a dork?" Malcolm just rolled his eyes. "I don't want an emmana," said Reese, "I mean, an enema."

"Well, it would be better than sitting around all day like this," I said. "Anyway," I continued, "I've never had one, but I heard they can be fun." "Really?" asked Reese. He was clearly interested – he was up to try anything with the word "fun" attached to it. Not only that, but he seemed to like butt play almost as much as I did. Malcolm was not convinced. "How can an ENEMA be FUN?" he asked.

"Well," I said, "from what I've read in porn stories, it can feel pretty good." Malcolm still looked incredulous; Reese had his famous, precious, confused look; and Dewey was eating half a cookie he found on the floor. "You see," I forged ahead, "the blood vessels that make your cock hard, and the nerves that make it feel good, go down your cock, in between your legs, and up inside your ass all the way to your prostate. So, any touch or stimulation along there of any kind can feel good if it's done right." I let that sink it. Shit, I didn't know for certain what I was talking about. One can hardly get a medical degree from porn stories. "So," said Malcolm, "everything you know about enemas, you learned from porn stories?" Busted.

There was a pause and then I said, "Whatever! Get in the car! We're going to the drugstore." I went upstairs, grabbed my stuff and stepped into some flip-flops. I wasn't at all sure about this enema thing. I mean it could be fun I think. But the bottom line (no pun intended): no way was I gonna let all this discomfort we were feeling ruin the whole last day of our weekend together.

The boys were really goofy in the car – we all were. It was the first time we were all in the car together. There's something about a group of guys in the car – there's no TV to take your attention, you're sitting close together, talking, commenting on people and things you pass. I slowed down to pull into the Lucky Aid. "NO! NO!" they all screamed. "What?!" I asked. "That's where Mom works," Reese said. "So?" I asked. "So," said Malcolm, "do you want it to get back to her that you were in there buying a bunch of enemas? And on the day that you had US for company?" "So what?" I answered, "It's not like she has spies out and knows everything that goes on within a mile of your house." "Yes she does," they all said in unison. Wow. Scary. So...I got out of the turning lane and Malcolm directed me to the next drugstore.

Before I got to the checkout counter, I could tell the guy was gay – not quite in the "flaming" department, more of what I think would be described as an "old queen," (no offense meant to old queens, flaming or otherwise). He was about 50 but trying to look 30 - had the thinning, bleached blond hair, slicked down with I don't know what. He ogled me as I approached and I could even see him suck in his bulging stomach. I set down my 4 Fleet enemas and 2 extra large tubes of KY jelly. I also bought a red bag, you know, those kind with a hose that you hang up. "Well!" he said all slithery and icky-like, "either there's a lot of sickness at your house or you're about to have one hell of a party!" "Yeah, we've all got meteorological dysentery," I said (the first thing I could make up). "But don't worry," I added, as I took my change from him, making sure to rub all over his hand, "it's not TOO contagious." I was somehow able to keep a straight face as I watched the blood drain from his. But as I turned around and walked away, I couldn't help start laughing.

I booked it back to the house as quick as I could, the boys laughing and wresting all the way. I wanted to get home and get to it. Part of me was curious but mostly, I just wanted to get it over with. On the way home someone let out an incredible, slow, loud, vibrating fart. "What the heck was that?!" I asked, and they are laughed like crazy. "It sounded like somebody trying to start up a chainsaw!" And with that, we all laughed so hard it made the car shake.

• • • Part 3 – Washed Out Guts * * *

I pulled into the driveway and we headed downstairs. When we got into the family room, we just sort of paused and looked at each other silently. "Well," I said, as I put down my stuff and kicked off my sandals, "let's get this over with." Everybody stripped in silence and then I led the way to the bathroom. It was definitely weird. New territory. Not just the idea of an enema but...but "group" enemas. Then I realized that if we were going to do 4 enemas, we would need 4 things to poop in. Hmmm...BUCKETS! My mom had bought me 2 (one each for upstairs and down) and there was another one in the pool shed. When I got back with it, the totally naked brothers had opened all the packages and were getting things ready. Gosh, what a weird thing to walk into your own bathroom and see – especially when I had just met these kids 8 days ago and just moved into this house 7 days ago.

Anyway...I covered the floor in towels and gave them each a bucket. "Okay, guys," I said, "get down on the floor and get your butts up in the air." Yeah...this could be fun. "No, wait!" I said. "Remember, I said this has to be done the right way. If you want it to feel good, I think you gotta have a hard-on first." Man, you should have seen young Reese's eyes light up when I said that! I sat down on the toilet and he stepped right up to me. The other 2 boys got in line. Wow! Talk about a boylover's wildest fantasies! Three boys lining up to get their dicks sucked?!! Yup, this could definitely be fun.

As always, little Reese's soft 3 incher grew to its full hard four-inches in a matter of seconds. I pulled off of him and looked at Dewey and shouted, "Next!" Oh fuck! Just hearing myself say that in this context made my own 22-year-old cock start to rise. I had to really lean down to get to cute little Dewey, the head of my now fully engorged dick hitting my stomach. I slurped his tiny cock into my mouth (only an inch and a half if you don't count the foreskin). Then I just sucked and hummed on it. Really the hums were more my moans of pleasure: "Mmmm..." I said, over and over. It was like I was tasting something really delicious. And of course I was. Very soon, I felt his little peepee start to get bigger in my mouth. Oh, so nice! I started to pull back on it with my mouth as I sucked, trying to pull the blood into it. In about another half of minute his little nail had thickened up and was now sticking straight out in its full, proud, two inches. Awesome!

"Next!" I said again, looking to little Malcolm. Oh fuck! Again, just saying that – it made my cock throb. He dutifully stepped up and presented his cock to me. He had about 2 inches of actual dick with a big hang of foreskin beyond that (as did both his brothers). As I slurped his sweet little cocklett into my mouth, I couldn't help but close my eyes and imagine this to be a huge line of little boys. I had played sports since I was 6 and many of the boys I had sucked over the years were teammates. Often, we had hooked up in locker rooms, after others had gone – sometimes risky places, like under the bleachers or in the dugout.

As I felt cute Malcolm's member start to throb and grow in my mouth, I imagined myself as a little league coach, with a huge baseball team of 8 to 10 year olds. Somehow, I had managed to have a pool party with me as the only adult. They were all swimming naked. I started sucking one of them by the pool. The others saw and started to all get in line. Soon there were 30 young little boys, eagerly waiting to be taken care of... "Ouch! That's enough!" cried Malcolm, pulling his hard, throbbing stick out of my mouth. In my fantasizing, I had gotten carried away and was sucking him like I was trying to pull a bowling ball through a straw. "Oh, sorry, Sunshine!" I said. "Here, let me kiss it and make it better!" And with a smile and a twinkle in his amazing blue eyes, he stepped right back up. I covered his sweet little peepee with big wet kisses, making loud smooching sounds as I did. Gosh, this was fun!

"Kiss MY peepee!" piped little Dewey when I was done with Malcolm. "Sure, Cowboy!" I replied, and little Dewey stepped up for me to put some lovin' onto his precious boyhood. "Next!" I said again, looking at Reese, who still had a gleam in his eye. As I lovingly kissed his 4-inch, hard boyrod, he cooed and reached out to touch my head, running his fingers through my hair and lovingly petting me. Of the three brothers, he was the only one who did that kind of stuff to me – he was the most tactile. I had to get him alone for a whole night soon, I told myself.

"Okay," I said, somewhat reluctantly pulling my smacking lips away from Reese's hot member, "NOW, down on the floor, butts in the air!" YUMM! "I wanna watch!" piped Dewey. "Me too," echoed Malcolm. "I'll be first!" cried Reese with a huge smile – always the one to jump into something new – always ready for an adventure to happen with his hormone-laden 12-year-old body. He practically dropped down to the floor. Then, knees up and over, down on either side of his head, hands on his lower back and hot little ass pushed high into the air. Fuck, what a view! I was so into Reese's tight boybutt from day one that the sight gave me an almost Pavlovian reaction, drawing me to it like a magnet. I WANTED TO EAT TT!!!!!!

But shit, I couldn't, and yes, that's a pun – yuck. But all in good time. Deep breath...

I squeezed a generous glob of KY lubricant onto the tip of my finger and started rubbing his tight hole. Oh man! It really brought me back to my first overtly sexual touch on him a week ago when I was doing exactly this only with soap for the lubricant. I felt shaky already just from this opportunity – the sight, the feel. And the fact that his 2 younger brothers were standing over me naked, boned up, and watching it all made it that much hotter.

Malcolm and Dewey's eyes got bigger as I reached for the enema bottle. I liberally spread KY all along the 1/4 inch wide shaft, especially on the tip. Reese sucked in his breath slightly as I turned the bottle upside down and touched the tip to his butthole. "You okay?" I asked. "Yeah, it's just a little cold," he said.

"Okay, now bear down." (That's what the directions said.)

"Huh?"

"Push out like you're trying to take a shit."

"Oh, okay."

And he did. I applied gentle pressure and dang if it wasn't going in. His little ass was suckin' it right down! "Uh, uh," he grunted. And I stopped: "You okay?" "Yeah," he replied, and I pushed it slowly in the final inch. "Keep it coming," he said. "It's already all the way in," I replied. "Oh," he said and I'd swear he almost sounded disappointed. "How does it feel?" asked Malcolm. "Feels good," answered Reese, "having a hard-on makes all the difference. I never had a hard-on before when Mom gave me one." (Well we hope not.) "I think it's pushing on my poostate," he said. "My PROstate," said Malcolm. "Yours too?" asked Reese. Malcolm just rolled his eyes.

"Do me next!" cried Dewey, jumping up and down. "Okay," I said, "assume the position." "Yeah," said Reese, laughing, "ASSume the position! Hahaha!" I had to grab his enema bottle and hold it in lest he shoot it out of his little ass from all his laughing. When he was under control, I turned my eyes to Dewey. What was it I had said about the best looking boy being the one I was with? I mean, they were all equally awesome, but I hadn't had as much experience with Dewey's butt. Oh man...my knees were shaking, my mouth was watering. I was panting. He was in the position, his tiny tan-white little boy behind pointed to the sky. His miniscule wrinkled hole so obscenely exposed. Oh shit, oh fuck, oh shit, it was so awesome looking!

I brought my generously lubed finger down to his hole. He gave a little jump when I made contact. "Ohh," he sighed as I rubbed him, trying to relax his little raisin. I rubbed his tight little winker for about a minute while he breathed hard and sighed. I lubed up the second enema bottle and put the tip to his tiny hole, applying gentle pressure. Dang, I could easily hold his entire sweet butt with my other hand. "Push out," I said. He did. As with Reese, his little orifice seemed to suck it in. After about halfway, he sucked in his breath and I stopped and waited. "Okay," he said after a moment and I felt the pressure give way, enabling me to push it in the rest of the way. I bent over to get a look at his little cocklett and saw that he was still hard, as was Reese. "How's it feel?" I asked. "Good," he said, with another sigh. Okay. Two down, one to go.

Malcolm was still hard. In fact, as he watched intently as the long thin enema tubes went into his brothers, he had never stopped rubbing and jacking his own little 3-inch piece. I looked up at him and he kind of jumped, as if being awaked from something. Then, like Reese, he practically fell to the floor to get himself in position - knees up and over, on the floor above his shoulders, ass in the air. Man. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. Anyone can find a butt to play with if they look hard enough. But will it be a nice butt? Will it be a young butt? A tight, cute butt? I had three of them – the three best butts in the world! Boy butts! Mine to play with! It was a dizzying thought.

For the third time in the last 5 minutes, I watched my well-lubed finger heading toward a little boy's anus. Oh Malcolm, sweet Malcolm – fragile and tough; delicate and macho; beautiful in your ethereal boyness. And your butt! I was rubbing my finger over his little pucker now. He hummed and cooed. Oh fuck! Malcolm! Do you have any idea what you do to me? My cock was mad hard, straining, ready to cum already. Three butts, high in the air! Do you get that???!!! THREE FUCKING BOY BUTTS, OBSCENLY SPLAYED, FUCKING BOTTLES STUCK IN THEM! OH SHIT!!!!

Oh...shit, I gotta calm down... Anyway, it was only 2 bottles. But I quickly lubed up the third and touched it to his sweet opening. I felt the tension in Malcolm's boyhole give way and once again – for the third time today and for only the third time in my young life, I watched something disappear into someone else's ass. Young, 11-year-old Malcolm sucked in his breath with a jerk. I stopped. Then he let out a slow sigh and I saw the tube totally disappear into him with my gentle push. Fuck, how I wanted to just scoot myself up and rub my hard dick on his smooth, white, innocent looking back. But like I said to the boys, there was more to do.

Now, it was time to squeeze the bottles and fill up their little asses. I started on Reese and Dewey at the same time. I don't know how fast you are supposed to go – or if it matters – but I wanted to move this along, so I squeezed hard and filled them up fast. They made a mixture of grunts and sighs, not unlike the sounds they made when getting sucked off. It made my cock twitch. Again. Then, over to Malcolm, I squeezed his bottle to empty as well. Now they were all full of the medicinal liquid, along with whatever else was stuck in their butts. "Okay," I said, "I'm going to take these bottles out now. Make sure you keep your asses closed tight. I don't want any poop fountains." "Ah!" groaned Reese, "don't make us laugh!"

I slowly pulled Malcolm's bottle and long tube out, then Dewey's, then Reese's. "How long do we have to stay like this?" asked Dewey. "Five minutes," I said. I got the fourth bottle and lubed it and put myself down on the floor on all fours to give myself the enema. "What are you doing?!" Reese cried, as he saw me out of the corner of his eye. "What's it look like?" I said, "I'm going to give myself one of these enemas." "But I wanted to do that!" he said, looking like he was half ready to cry. "Okay, that's fine, " I said, and put the bottle back down on the sink. Gosh, I had these kids spoiled... letting them eat junk food, stay up late, give me enemas... Fuck, Reese is so freaky. I mean, I am too, but I feel like I sort of fell into it gradually. He was born that way!

But anyway, it was good, because now I could stand up and take in the sight from above. With the bottles out of their butts and in the trash, I have a sublime view of three amazing, little, hairless butts, spread wide to show off their little puckers. Oh fuck! If you would have told me 10 days ago that I would be in this position, I would have tried to have you committed. What a sight! What a fucking, beautiful, nasty, delicious, obscene, earth-shaking, other-worldly sight! Three boys! Three asses! Three holes! If only I had three long tongues. Not having that, I spent the next few minutes using my hands on their hard little sticks, taking turns on them, keeping them aroused and horny and eliciting all manner of lustful sounds from their sweet lips. Was any guy in the world luckier than me?

"Uncle Jay!" cried Dewey, breathless, "I don't think I can hold it anymore!" "Well get on your bucket!" I blurted out. "Me too!" cried Reese, and along with Dewey he quickly sat up and lifted his butt up and put the bucked under it. Malcolm soon followed. Now you might think that a bunch of guys pooping into buckets with the sound of the crap hitting, along with the farting, not to mention the smell; would be a buzz-kill. But it wasn't. Now, I'm not into shit and no, this isn't going to turn into a scat scene. But there was something so intimate (that's the best word I can think of) about it. I mean, what is more personal than taking a crap? And when in your daily life are you more helpless than when poop is coming out of your ass?

So here were these three boys, whom I loved, with whom I felt very close; all old enough to know better (even Dewey) and yet, freely letting me be present while they dropped a load. And not only that, but as their butts were raised up off the buckets, I could actually see it coming out of their ass! It was the kind of thing only men would do. Dainty women would never dream of such a thing. No, it was all so macho, and masculine and...and raw. A perverted experience of male bonding. But I did. I felt bonded. But then, I am a pervert.

I gave them each a couple of wipes to clean themselves, then we did 2 flushes of poop, along with many more to rinse the buckets out as I filled them from the shower. Then I grabbed the KY Jelly and the last enema and said, "Let's get out of here!" I couldn't stand the stink anymore and fortunately, there were 2 more bathrooms upstairs.

• • • Part 4 – My Turn * * *

So now, it was Reese's turn...and mine. But don't think Malcolm and Dewey didn't come along to watch. And believe it or not, everybody's cock was still hard! I threw a couple of towels on the floor in the master bath and assumed the position. It felt very bizarre to have my head down on the floor with my ass up so high. Shit, my hole was now higher than 6-year-old Dewey's waist! It felt weird to be so exposed like this, but then again, there was an intimacy to it. I don't think I ever had a friend in my life that I would have trusted enough to get in this position and let him give me an enema. Yet, I trusted Reese to do it. I trusted all of them to let them see me this way. Am I weird? Am I normal? I know, the average person doesn't engage in such things, but wouldn't it be better for us all if we could be so close to so many people? So trusting? But enough of the philosophizing. It was now the moment of truth. I was about to receive my first enema. And a 12-year-old boy was going to give it to me.

Oh fuck! Oh shit! He's rubbing my hole! He's rubbing it! This 12-year-old hunk is lubing me up! He's touching me in my most intimate place! Fuck! I felt my body shudder. Reese's face had a mixture of a smile and concentration as he globbed the KY jelly on me. Malcolm and Dewey watched intently. I was so horny already that my cock kept twitching and when it did, my hole would open, making them laugh. Man.

Next, young Reese put the tip of the insertion tube up to my hole. I relaxed and it went in easily. He was very gentle. Ahhh... Normally, something that thin would not be big enough to give me much pleasure but the fact that it was Reese who was putting it in added greatly to it. And not only that, but I could look to the right and the left and see the hard, tiny peepees of Dewey and Malcolm. I could look up and see all their cute faces. I could look all around me and see skin. I was surrounded by naked boys! It was bizarre, it was surreal. It was hot!

I could feel my insides filling up with the liquid as he squeezed it in. Weird, slightly pleasurable. I just closed my eyes and let myself experience this new, strange, sensation. "Uncle Jay!" cried Reese, "I can't hold it anymore!" Huh? "Reese," I said, "you already had your enema. You already pooped." "Not my poop, my cum!" he cried, already dropping to his knees at my head. Oh no! I knew what was coming and I knew that it was pointless to argue. But I tried anyway. "Reese, this really isn't the best time, you know?"

But he was already on top of me. He put himself perpendicular to me holding himself by his arms, in a push-up position. "Reese!" I cried, this REALLY isn't—" but he was already trying to stab his 4-inch erection into my mouth. Sigh. I might as well get this over with. And of course, I still was majorly turned on by his randiness. This hormone-raging, hunky little 12-year-old boy was dying to have me suck him off. Fuck, I had to do it! My ass was already starting to feel the pressure building, but what the heck. I was too horny to stop it myself now.

So...I opened wide and leaned over to catch the end of his hot boycock in my mouth. Oh man, and then the fucking began. Thankfully, my head was on the bathroom rug as when Reese started doing push-ups on me, he was smashing into my face like a jackhammer. Oh fuck, I mean he was literally doing push-ups on me, his cock ramming all the way down my throat and gagging me. And the speed at which he was pistoning me. It was like he was in a hammering contest. I was the wood, his body was the hammer, and his dick was the nail. But what a nail! I could feel it throbbing on my tongue as he continued to slam it all the way into me. And with each thrust he made an animal grunting noise that was driving me crazy.

The room was filled with the sound of his grunts, his body slapping me on the face, and my sucking and constant gagging sounds. The constant pressure into my throat brought tears to my eyes that rolled sideways down my head. My hair was wet with sweat and Reese was sweating onto me as well, my whole face taking on a salty dampness from the mixture of everything.

Along with all of this was the pain/pleasure coming from my filled up ass. As Reese continued his relentless pounding into my face, it was taking more concentration and strength on my part to keep from spilling my guts out. And yet, that seemed to put a new kind of pressure on my whole region that inflamed my dick even more. There was the mental aspect – here I was in this most vulnerable of all possible positions – ass two feet up in the air, and Reese had my head pinned down to the floor with his constant, animalistic pumping. Then there was the feel: as I experienced the delicious and magnificent feel of his boycock raging in and out of my mouth and throat, there was the mighty sensation in my ass. As I worked harder and harder to control myself, it seemed to put even more and more pressure on my butt – my asshole and my prostate. And that pressure served to make my dick painfully hard. I had never experienced such an amazingly intense level of pain mixed with pleasure. And what's weird is it was the same feeling – coming from the same place. What was causing the pain was in turn, magnifying the sexual pleasure. Oh fuck, my 6-inch cock was THROBBING!

"HMMMM! HMMMM! HMMMM!" I started screaming, my mouth full and my throat still gagging on Reese's pistoning boytool. "AHHHH! AHHHH!" Reese was shouting now; also panting hard as he continued his sexy, horny thrusts. I didn't know how much longer I could hold out. Still doing my humming screaming, I started sucking madly on his 4-inch-rod and rubbing my tongue all over the place, trying to force his orgasm. "YYYYEEEEOOOOWWWW!" he cried and even sped up his pumping, if that were possible. My nose was being flattened to my face as I was blinded now from sweat and tears – who knows, maybe blood too from the way he was mercilessly battering my nose with his gut.

"YYYYEEEEOOOOWWWW!" he cried over and over. "HHHHHMMMMMM!" I continued my high screams around his dick. Oh fuck, I really couldn't hold it. I let go of my waist and let my butt fall down to the floor. I was slamming my hands on the rug in overwhelming pain, horniness, and ecstasy. I had to get Reese to cum NOW! The only other thing I could think of to do was work on his ass. I put my hand above my head and brought it up and over and started spanking him as well as I could with his mad movement in and out of my body. "WHACK, WHACK, WHACK!" the sounds of my spanking joined the cacophony of all the other so-fuckin'-horny sex sounds in the room. I wasn't giving him playful spanks either. Fuck, I had to get to the toilet!! I was spanking him as hard as I could either to get him off of me now or to make him cum.

And yet, I couldn't bring myself to shove him off of me. The thought didn't even really cross my mind. I was too horny. I was lost in all the sensations I was feeling at both ends as well as all the amazing hot sounds. I was lost in Reese's frenzied horniness into my hot, wet, throat. I WAS SO FUCKIN' TURNED-ON!!! I continued to wail on his smooth little ass as we both continued our screams, me around his throbbing boyhood and him still doing his Indian-like war-cries. My other hand was still beating onto the floor as if I were playing a drum. I started to flail my legs and beat my feet onto the floor as well. If not for the distraction of worrying I was about to shit myself all over the place, I think I might have gone into yet another spontaneous orgasm.

"HMMMM! HMMMM! HMMMM!" I cried. "YYYYEEEEOOOOWWWW!" he continued to cry, and then, finally it hit. He let out one big, continuous, screeching, deafening war-cry as he held the grape-size head of his cocklett in my mouth and shot his pubescent load onto my tongue. Oh fuck, that was all I could take. If I wasn't going to shit myself, then I was going to start cumming. And I knew that if I started cumming, the flexing of my ass would cause me to lose what I was holding. Forgetting to be gentle, I got under him with both hands and practically threw him up in the air as I shoved him off me. He shot another spurt on my face as he went – still cumming, but I didn't care. I had brought him to orgasm, that was enough.

I practically flew through the air over to the toilet, my shit starting to pore out even before I sat down all the way. It made a thunderous noise as it hit the water, matched by my screams as I finally jacked my aching cock. My screams got even crazier as I started to cum. Still forcing out a ton of shit and water, my sensitive asshole was sending fireworks through my body from the involuntary spasms of both shitting and cumming like an elephant at the same time. "AHHHH!" I screamed, and was basically sobbing now, as again, I started writhing my legs and slamming my feet onto the floor. "AHHHH!" I screamed again and again, still sobbing, my fists now banging on the sink, hitting the walls. My torso was jerking back and forth, smashing over and over against the toilet tank. I was exploding so much – from both sides – that I actually jumped my butt up half a foot above the toilet and slammed it back down several times. Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Oh fuck!

Finally, my convulsing slowed down and stopped, cock and ass both emptied out now. But I was still sobbing, such was the intensity of what had just happened. I grabbed a huge wad of toilet paper, not for my ass, but to wipe my eyes so I could see. Through my salt-blurried vision, I could see that the boys were huddled together in the far corner of the room, opposite me. "That was scary," said little Dewey, and Reese pulled Dewey tighter to him. Reese also had that cute, confused look on him. "Uncle Jay?" It was Malcolm who spoke. I was still sobbing. Malcolm walked gingerly across the room until he was inches from me. "Uncle Jay?" he said again, "are you alright?" And then, I think I scared him again, although I didn't mean to. But I lunged my arms out and grabbed him and yanked him to me, immediately slurping both his cock (now soft again) and balls into my mouth. I just kind of held onto him and leaned against him and cried into him. I don't know why. I mean, why I wanted him in my mouth right then. It just felt comforting. I was like a baby with a pacifier.

I felt his arm move and I thought he was going to return the embrace. But no, he just reached over and flushed the toilet. "Turn the fan on," I said, pulling off of him long enough just to speak, and then I was right back on him sucking. Malcolm made a shudder as I went back down on him. "Uncle Jay, are you alright?" It was little Dewey speaking now. Reese walked over to turn on the fan, then the two of the came over to join Malcolm and me. "I'm fine," I said, again, pulling off Malcolm just long enough to speak those two words, then right back on. And then, Malcolm did start to return the intimacy, reaching out to pet my shoulders and head and run his fingers through my hair. "Are you alright as...I mean..." Reese was stammering, "was what just happened bad or was it good?" he finally got out. "Oh, I LIKED it!" I said, and again, quickly went back down onto Malcolm's marshmallow center, still holding him tight to me, my arm around his sweet little ass.

Dewey climbed onto my lap, and rested his head against my chest. And since Reese, I guess, couldn't hug me or do much with his arms in that tight corner, he did something amazing. He got down on his knees and just started kissing me on the cheek – all over – like coming within a fraction of an inch of his own brother's cock as he did. It was so sexy and so intimate – and so loving. It could have made a beautiful photograph it we hadn't been huddled around a commode.

"Uncle Jay?" Dewey spoke again. "Hmm?" I said, finally pulling off Malcolm for good. I was starting to feel slightly normal once again. "My poopy hole still hurts," he said. "Mine, too," said Reese, "it itches really bad." "Mine, too," said Malcolm, "and it burns. It burns really bad." "Yeah," said Reese. "Yeah," said Dewey. And as I sat there coming down from my sexual high, I realized that my hole was itching and burning as well. It must be all the chili pepper still in us. Man, we couldn't stay like this all day. What to do next?

Coming in Chapter 16 – An Itch You Can't Scratch

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