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 9 The Playroom, the Cook-out, and Dewey's Demands

Dear Readers, I know you like sexy stories--I do too. But I find that as I write, this tale is becoming less a string of sex scenes and more like a novel that has sex in it (at least for this chapter). I'm using this chapter to do some exposition--to give more background on Mr. Jones and transition to the next part of his summer with the boys next door. There is a sex scene at the end, but all through this chapter are nice bits of talk about hugs, kisses, and nudity. It's just how it comes out when I write. In my mind, I have to keep connecting things together. The more real the story is and the more I believe it could actually happen, then the bigger my orgasm -- wink. So have your cumrag ready for the end, but please read and enjoy the first part as a nice story about nice (often naked), affectionate little boys.

• • • Part 1 -- Across Town and Back * * *

So, I was on my way across town to see my parents, having just left young Reese after rimming him for the first time, propelling us both to explosive orgasms. I had called to let Mom and Dad know I was coming, of course. Not that I needed to. I knew their exact schedule--knew they would be watching the end of "Wheel of Fortune" when I arrived--knew that the house would be spotless as always. They didn't need any warning of my arrival. But to them, you would never drop in on someone unexpectedly--it just wasn't done. Not a bad trait for them to have. It would ensure that they never walked in my house unannounced to find my mouth on the cock of a naked little boy.

I'll get to some more sexy stuff later, but now is probably a good time to give you a little more background on my family life--to explain why I am the way I am--after all, it took me 2 years of therapy to figure out as much as I have--so I might as well share such valuable information with you. (By "valuable" I mean time-wise. I was able to see a college counselor for free.)

Anyway, I can't say that my parents really did anything wrong. I used to resent them for the loneliness and the lack of love that I felt growing up. But I've come to understand that I'm just wired differently from them. Maybe it was the different time they were brought up in, or I got different genes. Probably both. The gist is that I was right-brained and they were left-brained. My dad was a chemistry teacher and my mom a school librarian. Everything was cut and dried to them. There was never any affection in our house. The only time I saw them kiss was at their 25th anniversary party. We never hugged, never said, "I love you." It's just not how they did things. I, on the other hand was more emotional, and craved physical contact. Although I suppressed that--didn't realize how much the lack of that had wounded me until I got into therapy.

Anyway, looking back, I can see that my parents loved me in their way. I was never late for a practice and they never missed a single game. If my mom found something I liked, she made a point to get it. I remember one time when I was about six, I said that I really liked the syrup at breakfast. Years later, I discovered that only one store--a store that was way out of the way, carried that kind, and it wasn't cheap either. Yet after that, my mom always made sure we had it in the house. Likewise, my dad would help me with any project--teach me about home and car repair, etc.

I was never spanked. They never even raised their voice to me. They always explained things to me--never made me feel stupid or put-down. In a lot of ways, I had it better than a lot of kids. So, in my own mind, I forgave them for not being everything I wanted and learned to love them for who they were, which was reliable, caring, decent people. But I'm sure had I felt the great love and physical affection that I craved growing up, I would not have sought intimacy and acceptance in the addiction of sucking other boys' cocks. Although, I'm not sure I'm complaining. I mean, thinking back to what Reese and I just did--it was pretty awesome! And with my new neighbors, I was now going to have all the company and attention and affection, (not to mention dick) that a 22-year-old, boy-loving guy could want!

And it wasn't an entirely bad thing that some of my parents' good traits rubbed off on me. I, too, tried to make things nice for others, not make demands on people, and was ardently responsible. Mom and Dad bought me a car when I was 16 (a used, Camry--what else?) but besides that, I never asked them for anything. I lived at home and with scholarships, grants, and a part-time job, put myself through school, graduating Summa Cum Laude with a double major in Phys Ed and Psychology. Then, I lived with them for free for the past year to save up the down payment for my house. Forget the past. Live in the present. Life was good.

I parked in the driveway and went in the back door. We said, "Hello," and I sat down to watch Vanna turn the letters until the end of the show. Then Dad switched off the TV. "We were going to call you tonight and invite you to lunch tomorrow," said Mom. "We have a little housewarming gift we want to give you." She got up to get a card off the mantel. "Mom, that's not necessary," I said. "You already gave me your rec room furniture and bought me dishes and stuff."

"We wanted to do it," said Dad. I opened and read the thoughtfully chosen, "New Home!" card, thanked them, then picked up the envelope that fell out of it. I assumed it was going to be a hundred dollar bill--a standard present (among others) for Christmas and birthdays. Instead of cash, though, was a check. A cashier's check. A big check. I felt faint. I had to lean back against the couch. "Wh--wh--what did you guys do?!" I managed to finally say. There was a "six" on the check. Then some zeros. I counted the zeros over and over but didn't have to. The number was also typed out. It was a check made out to me for sixty-thousand dollars!"

"It's your college fund," said Dad. "But I'm through college," I said, "at least for now." "We know," said Dad, "but we started the fund when you were young and you never asked us for help. We want you to have it." I was still in shock. "Look," said my mom, "you're our only child and we love you," (WHAT?!) "and we're proud of you and we want you to have it--buy a car--take a trip--put it into your house--whatever you want to do!" She had tears in her eyes. I stood up and held out my arms. She, almost shyly, walked over to give me a hug. I put out my arm again and looked over at Dad, and he too, ambled over and joined us. I think it was the first hug I got from them since I fell off my bike and hurt myself when I was 9. Well...maybe they just needed a shove to let their feelings come out--like Malcolm did with his Dad.

Oh man, I was still trying to take it in as I sat back down on the couch. But I know they did really want me to have it. The psychology part of my brain said it was their way of dealing with the loss of me moving out--give me something--affirm it for all of us. Then I had a brainstorm. "Listen," I said, "there are these cute little kids next door--three boys--and I promised their parents that I would keep them all weekend. You remember, my basement is empty--they put in a ceiling and paneled it but there's nothing there. I would love it if we could fix it all up like a big playroom and surprise them with it Friday. Will you help me?"

Their eyes were sparkling. "Sounds like a lot of fun!" my mom said. Now my parents were never out past 9:00 (unless Choir Practice went long) and always in bed before 10:00. But they followed me back to my house so we could make plans. We decided to paint the paneling white; and my mom came up with a color scheme to paint some diagonal stripes on the wall--different shades of blues, some yellow and peach--what she called "beach colors." It would look friendly and playful without looking childish. I wanted a playroom for all ages--I didn't want my basement to look like the set of Sesame Street. It was perfect!

We made a list. I wanted a comfortable, sturdy sectional couch, a plush rug in front of it, and lots of things that boys ages 6, 11, and 12 would like, including a pool table. Then we also needed to furnish the patio around the pool. Now was the time I would really appreciate my "cut and dried" extended family as they were all hard workers who got things done. Mom called her brother Wilbur, who was the computer king and also the one with the truck. He would start scouting the internet for used things while my Mom worked with him on what to buy new.

Dad and I sketched out a wet bar and he called his brother Henry, a contractor, who would make sure things got inspected and were legal by Friday evening. It was almost 9:30 when we walked out the door, still excited, the sun just barely giving its last bit of summer light. We heard a ball thumping and I looked around the hedge to see Reese and Malcolm playing hoops in the driveway. "Uncle Jay!" cried Reese and the boys ran up and slammed into me, giving me a big hug. I could see that my parents were quite surprised, yet pleased that the little neighbor boys had gotten so friendly so fast. Surely, it would energize them to help me make a nice basement playground in the next 4 days. (FOUR DAYS?!!) Anyway, I introduced everyone and my parents said their goodbyes and left for home.

"Listen, guys," I said to Reese and Malcolm. I hadn't really thought this out but might as well get it over with tonight. "I can't have you guys in the house from now until Friday night," I said. "Why?" they both asked together. Malcolm looked sad and confused. Reese looked as if he might cry. "Well," I said, "I found out some things about the house that I didn't know anything about, and we have to bring in some chemicals to fix it. They are okay for grown-ups to be around, but can be harmful to anyone under 18. I looked at them. Reese breathed a little sigh of relief--at least he didn't feel rejected now. But Malcolm clearly wasn't buying it. "What chemicals? What did you find?" he asked.

"Don't worry, Malcolm, it will be okay. I really can't explain it right now, but I PROMISE you, that after Friday night you guys can come over every day forever and ever. Anyway, I'll make it up to you when you guys stay over this weekend--we're gonna have LOADS of fun!" Malcolm's eyes got huge: "We're staying at your house this weekend?!" he cried, his voice going higher than Dewey's. "Yup," I said, Friday night and Saturday night! (He was practically jumping up and down.) And listen, while the grown-ups are working inside this week, I was hoping you guys could finish the pool for me. Can you?" "Sure!" Malcolm said (little boys would do ANYTHING to have a pool to play in). "But that's..." Reese was stammering and trying to count on his fingers. "Friday..." he said to himself. "What day is this?" he turned to Malcolm. "It's four days from now," said Malcolm. "Four days!" cried Reese, "but what about... what about...?" Reese was stammering again. I got down close and whispered in his ear. "What about getting your dick sucked?" I asked. "Yeah," he said, breathless. "We can do it in the pool shed after everyone is gone," I said. "You too, Malcolm," I whispered. Reese threw himself on me and squeezed me in a huge hug. He was surprisingly strong for his size. "Reese, I can't breathe," I said. "Oh, sorry. Anyway, I gotta pee. We'll be over in the morning to clean the pool!" he shouted as he was heading toward the door. "Wear clothes!" I called after him. "Okay!" he shouted, and the door slammed.

"Uh...Mr. Jones," said Malcolm. "It's `Uncle Jay' now," I said, with a big, proud smile. Malcolm smiled too and looked down shyly, then spoke again: "Un, Mr. Jay--Uncle Jones--Mr. , uh, Uncle Jay?" and he put his arms up toward me. I picked him up and held him close. He spoke softly into my ear. "Do we have to do the, you know the sex stuff every day?" he asked. "Of course not, Malcolm," I said. "But I'm a little curious to hear the reason why you wouldn't want to. "Well," he said, "I think it's like, well, would you ever consider sucking your dad?" he asked. "Oh my gosh, no!" I said, kind of in a shouting whisper. "Well," he continued, "I would never do that to my dad either, but I really loved it tonight when I was naked with him and kissing him and he was rubbing my butt. And see, I loved doing that with you too. I mean, sometimes, I want you to do the sex stuff with me because it was exciting and felt so awesome, but, I was just wondering..." "What, Malcolm?" I asked quietly.

"Do we have to do the sex stuff every time BEFORE we can hug...and kiss?" he asked, and he leaned back and looked at me with a worried expression. "Oh Malcolm," I said, again tearing up, "if you never wanted me to suck you or rim you again, but said you wanted me to hug and kiss you for 16 hours a day every day, I'd be as happy as anything--happy as an eleven-year-old boy in a swimming pool." He let out a big sigh of relief, put his head back on my shoulder and squeezed me tight. "But we'll still do the sex stuff sometimes, right?" again, he leaned back and gave me a worried look. "Whenever you want, Sunshine. I love it all. I love anything I can do with you," I answered. He put his head on my shoulder and sighed again. I held him under the butt with one hand and stroked his hair with the other. "The thing is, the thing you have to understand is that I love YOU Malcolm, not your body, not your hugs, not any certain part of you or aspect of you, but just you--whatever you bring to the table--I love YOU. Don't ever forget that."

"You know, you're a pretty smart guy," he said as he put his legs down and I bent over to put him down. "You too," I said as he started toward the house. "A hundred and sixty-five," he said. "Huh?" I asked. "One sixty-five--it's my IQ," he called over his shoulder, then he ran back to give me a big goodnight kiss before running into the house.

One sixty-five??!!! Shit, he's a GENIUS!!!

• • • Part 2 -- Everybody In the Pool! * * *

Now that I knew how smart Malcolm was, I had no worries about putting him in charge of the pool. The algae had all disappeared by the next morning. Malcolm had listened to everything from the pool guy, so he knew how to backwash the filter and keep it clean. The boys were perfect angels, able to make themselves climb slowly into the pool and not stir up the sediment, so they could get to everywhere and vacuum it off. They kept themselves from playing in it--quite an effort for them both, especially Reese. But Reese's reward was that I sucked him off in the pool shed every night (sometimes while my relatives were still inside!). It seemed so dirty and nasty--sneaking it in like that in that dark, little shed. I wouldn't rim him though, because I knew he would make too much noise (I made him stuff a towel in his mouth anyway). I also didn't jack off myself. I was going to let it build up for the weekend. Hmmmm... That was quite an effort for me as well.

Anyway...back to the pool. I kept the testing stuff in the house and didn't test it until after they left each evening. By Thursday night, the balance was almost there. It would probably be ready in the morning but I wasn't going to tell them that. I needed them out of my hair until everything was ready.

But backing up a bit, Tuesday, my parents arrived at 7:00 a.m., painting equipment in hand. We got started with taping the edges, then while I took that huge check to the bank, they went and bought all the paint and other things we needed including a bar sink and plumbing. The cable and internet guys had everything ready by noon, the flooring people came to measure at one. Furniture would start arriving on Thursday. Mom got me a fantastic sectional couch in denim and she brought all the cushions outside and scotch guarded them. And rather than a big rug, she bought four white, furry throw rugs, then put grommets in them and tied them together. That way, I could take one or more apart and throw them in the washer. She bought several extra ones and put grommets in them and put them in the downstairs closet. I would be set for years. She also made curtains for the living/dining room upstairs, as well as all the windows downstairs.

While she was doing all the "Mom" stuff, Dad and I managed to get the whole way around the basement twice in one day, first with a coat of primer, then paint. We did the stripes on Wednesday. Uncle Wilbur delivered 2 great dining sets, one for upstairs and one for down, as well as some used cabinets, shelves, end tables, and wooden lamps--perfect! Mom said we would paint everything to match the wall stripes. She even managed to get some kid chairs--Dewey-sized--and she put a new teddy bear on one and a stuffed panda on the other. She was doing an awesome job at making a grown-up looking, but kid friendly space. I told her she should make a living at it!

There was one 12 foot long wall in the middle of the basement against which went the used shelves and a new big-screen TV. As soon as my internet was hooked up, I ordered every game system I didn't have and about 30 games. I had them shipped to the house by overnight mail. Uncle Henry, the contractor, came over a couple of evenings, and by Friday, we had a 12 foot counter with a full-size fridge with icemaker, a mirrored backsplash and glass shelves full of acrylic (that is, unbreakable) glasses in assorted colors, and not a small amount of booze and mixers, all sent over by the extended family. I managed to snag an old lab table they were going to throw out at school. It made a really cool looking island, and with the purchase of some used bar stools that we painted in the "beach" colors, that end of the basement was ready to go.

Friday night, everyone came--Mom, Dad, Hal and Lois along with the kids, of course. Also, Uncle Wilbur, Uncle Henry and their wives. All their kids were grown, but Uncle Henry and Aunt Jenny brought their five-year-old grandson, Arnie. He was wearing his bathing suit and a shirt. I noticed that Reese, Malcolm and Dewey were all just wearing regular shorts.

For the outdoor furniture, all I told Mom was that I wanted three double chaise lounges (I didn't tell her why, but basically, I wanted there to be lots of cuddle room outside). I also told her to get two big tables and canopies. She got all new stuff so it would match and it was fantastic--including the end tables, chairs, outdoor lamps, a glider, and a thousand dollar gas grill that did everything but cut your meat for you.

Dinner was great as well as the conversation. Mom and Dad seemed to be getting along famously with Lois and Hal. After dinner, it was time for the main event. I had already checked the pool water and knew it was clean and balanced--all ready to go. But still, I brought out the testing kit and took my time, making a big show of getting the water and waiting and looking at the results carefully, with furrowed brow. The boys watched me intently. And then: "The pool is ready!" I shouted. "Yippee!" cried Reese. "Yay!" cried little Dewey. And then, without a care in the world, the three neighbor boys stripped off all their clothes and jumped into the pool stark naked!

My parents about shit a brick. It was hilarious! They looked somewhat relieved when Lois jumped up and shouted, "You boys!" But all she did was gather up the shoes and clothes they had left by the edge of the pool and bring them back and toss them in a chair. My parents and aunts and uncles were doing double and triple takes. It was a scream. Then, my little nephew Arnie tossed off his shirt and shucked his swimsuit and jumped in naked as well. "Arnie!" cried his grandmother, "Why are you swimming naked?!" "I thought you were supposed to," said little Arnie. Well with that, the ice broke and everybody laughed. "Welcome to my neighborhood," I leaned over and whispered to my parents. Then I sat back to watch (subtly, I hoped) the glimpses of wet asses and dangling cocklets popping in and out of the water. I had definitely bought the right house!

• • • Part 3 -- Unveiling the Boy Cave * * *

After half an hour, Arnie and his grandparents left to get the little guy in bed on time. After an hour it was starting to cool off so I figured it was time to get the neighbor boys out of the pool. Besides, I wanted to give everyone a tour of the house before it got too late. "Boys, it's time to get out," I called. "Aww, do we have to?" they pretty much all said in one way or another. "C'mon," I said, "I have a big surprise for you in the house." Their eyes lit up and they quickly climbed out of the pool.

I showed them around upstairs--Reese and Dewey immediately noticed the big basket of toy boats I had put in the master bath. Then we started down the stairs. "You have a basement?!" said Reese. I guess he didn't see people coming up and down the outside steps all week. When they got to the bottom of the steps, it was freak time. "WOW!!!" and "AWESOME!!!" were pretty much the words of the day. Six-year-old Dewey immediately saw the Teddy Bear on the little chair at the bottom of the steps and grabbed it and hugged it to his still naked body. "How cute!" cried Lois. My mom was beaming. Reese and Malcolm went right to the video games. I let them all three look there a moment, then ushered them beyond the TV area to the game area--there was a table and chairs, and shelves with all kinds of games and boy toys like G.I. Joes, laser tag, you name it. They were ecstatic.

Beyond the game area, at the back of the house was a pool table. "Malcolm, look!" cried Reese when he saw it. Hanging from the main beam between the game table and the pool table was a swing. While the two older boys went right to the pool table, little Dewey climbed onto the swing. "Push me, Daddy!" he cried. And Hal did. After a few seconds of admiring the pool table, the boys noticed the work-out area next to it, in the middle of the back half of the house. I had set up my weight bench and free weights, plus a home gym that I had. And since I had maxed out on that, I bought a newer one. We could all three work out at the same time. On the floor were two large wresting mats where we could exercise, practice martial arts, or...wrestle--hopefully, wet and naked!

Beyond that, at the far corner of the house was the wet bar with a microwave, trash compacter and mini-dishwasher. "Look, boys!" I said. "We can make snacks down here and have our sodas." I opened the fridge to reveal it to be packed with name brand sodas, especially orange -- Dewey's favorite his mom had told me. I also heeded her words and bought only caffeine free diet. The back part of that corner, I left empty for a future sauna and hot tub. That would insure that once the weather got cold, I would still have wet, naked boys to play with! Maybe some nice sweaty armpits to lick too! The bar area was covered in nice tile and the rest of the basement in plush carpet. The previous owners had already put in a full bath with a huge walk-in shower. It was the ultimate man cave--boy cave--a dude's paradise!"

I looked at the boys. Dewey was still hugging his bear, Malcolm's eyes were glowing, and Reese looked like he was about to cry: "I love you!" he choked out, and grabbed me in a tight bear-hug. Malcolm joined him on my other side, then Dewey wrapped himself around my leg. "You have to thank my parents and Uncle Henry too," I said. "They did as much work on it as I did." My mom was the closest and thus, the first to get nearly run over by three still totally naked boys. I could see that she wanted to hug them back but couldn't decide where to put her hands on the nude lads. Finally she patted them on top of the head. Then they ran to my dad. He was a little more comfortable with it and put his arms around their shoulders. Uncle Henry held out his hand for handshakes before they got close enough to tackle him.

Hal's eyes went from the bar to the pool table, then he slapped me on the back and said, "I bet that game table would work just as well for poker, huh?" and gave me a wink. "Oh boy," said Lois, "I have a feeling that I'm going to be living alone next door.

To sum up, the room was a huge hit with everyone and I was totally psyched to have it all done a week after moving in with the whole summer vacation still ahead of me. My relatives said their goodbyes upon which Hal clapped his hands and said, "Okay, boys, go get your stuff!" To my disbelief, they lugged back a huge suitcase, a duffle bag, and a garbage bag filled with who knows what. Hal saw my mouth agape and said, "We wanted to make sure they didn't forget anything, I mean," (whispering) "we don't want them to have any excuse to come over to the house this weekend, you know what I mean?" and he gave me another wink.

"Now boys," started Lois. "Everything that's here stays here and don't break any of it! No fighting, no name calling, no staying up too late, no drinking, no watching bad stuff on TV, and no answering the door naked! And do whatever Mr. Jones tells you! I told him he's welcome to spank you if you need it!" (She hadn't, but the thought made my mouth water.) "Now, give us a hug and a kiss." It was sweet to watch all three boys give both their parents a big, tight hug and a long kiss on the mouth--something they had just started a few days ago, thanks to me.

I walked Lois and Hal upstairs. "Listen you guys, I think the boys will be fine. Anyway, if they're not, I'll deal with it. I'm going to be their teacher so I'm going to have to figure out how to discipline them. And if they did forget anything, we'll do without or we'll go to the store and buy it. Go home and relax. You won't see any of us until Sunday night--promise."

Lois thanked me for everything and gave me a peck on the cheek. Hal, held out his hand to shake, then breaking into a sob grabbed me into a tight hug and screeched out "Thank you!" And they left.

• • • Part 4 -- What to Play? * * *

When I went back downstairs, Malcolm and Reese were playing pool while Dewey's naked little ass was sitting on the furry rug. He was flipping channels on the TV. It was obvious that he was so sleepy he could barely sit up. "Dewey, don't you want to go to bed now?" I asked him. "You promised me I could take a bath tonight," he whined. "Well the tub will still be there tomorrow--can't you wait until then?" I asked. "Nnnooooo," he whined again. "Well listen," I said picking him up, along with his bear. "It takes a long time for the tub to fill up, so how about if you relax here on the couch for a few minutes until I come and get you, okay?" "Okay," he said, almost falling asleep in my arms. I settled him on the couch with a throw pillow under his head and got a blanket for him out of the leather ottoman that served as a coffee table. Then I went upstairs and outside to grab the trash and bring in the boys' clothes and shoes. I wasn't even gone five minutes and of course, when I came back, sweet little Dewey was sound asleep.

I heard Malcolm and Reese trying out the weight machines and went over to find them each on one, their pool game left unfinished. Is there anything sexier than the sight of a naked boy lying on a weight bench, his legs spread with his feet on the floor and his bare hairless armpits on display as he...ah... sigh... you get the picture. I walked back to the other side to turn down the TV and saw that a tornado had hit the game area--boxes open, GI Joes on the floor, laser tag stuff everywhere. How did they do all that? Like I said, I wasn't even gone for five minutes. "We can't decide what to play," said Reese who was now right behind me and fell on the floor laughing when I jumped. "Hey Malcolm!" he cried, "I scared the crud out of Uncle Jay!" He got up and pressed his face into the center of my back, wrapping his arms around me and giving me a big squeeze from behind. Then he gave me a raspberry on my back, making me giggle. I couldn't stay mad at this kid for more than two seconds.

I have to say, forty-nine percent of me wanted to have sex with both of them, now that we could. But fifty-one percent of me wanted to just be normal with them for once--to play regular games and hang out like a regular uncle and nephews. I wanted to see if I could even do that for an evening. Besides, we had the next 48 hours to have sex.

"It's been a long week for me," I said, "and it's getting late. I'm tired, you guys should be tired from swimming. How about if we just play video games until we fall asleep in front of the TV?" I asked. They both thought that was an awesome idea. While they were deciding which game to play, I picked Dewey up and carried him with the teddy bear upstairs to the guest room, which now had my old twin bed and furniture in it. When I came down, I rolled the ottoman out of the way, then went into the laundry room and brought out the foam, king-sized mattress I had purchased for just such an occasion. It already had a sheet on it. Some throw pillows were tossed down along with the blanket I had gotten for Dewey and we were ready for bed. Well, I stripped naked like they were--then we were all ready for bed.

They had decided on WWF Smackdown 2. It was a two person game but we could take turns. I settled myself in the middle of the mattress and motioned for them to settle on either side of me. Ahhhh... Another first--both of the boys cuddled up against me, my arms around them, their naked hips touching my naked hip. I could have easily drifted off into sweet fantasies if not for the constant jerking of their arms and the shouts of, "Aha! Got you good!" etc.

But it was getting late and once I got my turn from Reese, he soon fell asleep. As soon as Malcolm and I finished the next round he said he was ready to sleep as well. I just took the control from him and threw it aside, changed the TV to a show and relaxed as they both slept with their head on my chest, one on either side. I took turns giving them each little kisses on their forehead while I gently rubbed my fingers through their hair. And then down their backs. As far as I could go...

Cuddled up with two young boys, both against me, for the first time in my life--two beautiful boys, two sweet boys, brothers, barely a year apart in age. It was heaven. Hmmm.

You remember what I said about only 49 percent of me wanting to have sex with them? Do numbers even mean anything? I hadn't orgasmed in 4 days! And for a 22-year-old male, let's face it, even a 1 percent desire for sex is quickly going to escalate to 100.

Anyway...I didn't want the game system controls to get damaged, so I got up to put them on the TV table. Being in the middle of the bed with two boys squished against me, I couldn't help but drag the blanket along as I got up and moved. When I turned back around, they were totally uncovered. Huh. How did that happen? Who cares? The main thing is that I was now looking at a boy peepee smorgasbord.

But what to do? I can't decide what to play. I could just look at them and jack off. They were both lying on their backs with a big space in between where I had been. I slowly spread their preteen legs apart wide, so their feet were touching in the center. It was like a big spread letter "M" with juicy little cocks at the peaks. Ah... It was a sight--sitting there, watching them sleep, looking at them as the changing TV picture made different colors and shadows on their totally naked bodies. I wanted to do more.

But mess with them while they were asleep? That's too pervy, isn't it? I mean, granted, we already know I'm a perve and I've certainly had fantasies that were way more pervy than what I was thinking about now. But...hadn't cum for 4 days...2 naked boys...legs spread wide open...hot little boy-dicks staring me in the face. Did I have a choice? No, of course not. I was no longer in control of myself.

But still, what to play? What to do? I thought of something I had read in many porn stories involving men and little boys, where the man takes the little boy's balls and penis into his mouth at the same time. I had never been able to do that, I mean, the last 11-year-old I sucked before Malcolm was when I, too, was eleven--with an 11-year-old sized small mouth. Plus, I wouldn't have thought of it then anyway. Okay, that's settled. Now, which one?

I was already leaning in, drawn to them like a magnet. On the right was Reese's macho, pubescent cock, ready for anything. On the left was the smaller, whiter, innocent looking dicklett of little Malcolm, the one who said he didn't really care to have sex that often. So, this might be my only chance this weekend. The magnet of his sweet little dick pulled me over to the left. And down, down, there...

I put my tongue under his marble size balls and lifted them up, then opening my mouth as wide as I could, I sucked both balls and cock into my mouth with a loud slurping sound. Oh man! Oh fuck! Oh SHIT! I was on the verge of blasting off already. Fireworks, yes, again, fireworks going on in my mouth along with my crotch. Oh Malcolm, sweet little Malcolm. Your entire preteen manhood inside of me. I opened my mouth as wide as I could and pushed onto him further, feeling even the bottom of his trunk going past my lips as his boyhood was now almost gagging me. SHIT!!! So HOT! FUCK!!!! Unreal. I was reading a porn story and acting it out in my brain. It was like I was dreaming. I pinched myself. No, honest--I really did. I seemed to be awake. It seemed real.

I pulled back just a bit so now my lips were framed around the base of his cock and ballsac. It fit so easily in my mouth. It was SO sexy. I wondered if I could go upstairs and get away with doing the same thing with little Dewey. No. Better not. At least if Malcolm woke up, I wouldn't be doing anything to him that I hadn't done when he was awake--well, I mean, I had already sucked his dick anyway.

I laid down flat between his legs and just gently sucked. He didn't respond--didn't move his body, nor did his penis start to grow. I just gently sucked, then started rubbing my hands all over his smooth skin. What was it about the skin of a boy that was so soft, so pure? What is it that happens to our skin as we age that makes it less so? Anyway, the feel of him on my hands and in my mouth was making me hornier by the second.

After a few minutes, I could take no more and told myself it was time to jack off. Without taking my mouth off of him, I raised up to grab my cock, but then looking at and feeling his smooth legs, I changed my mind. Arching my back and curling myself up a bit, I was easily able to rub my about-to-explode member on the smooth skin of his lower leg. I turned his leg a bit so that I was rubbing on his awesome calf instead of his shinbone.

Fuck, it was so hot. And the fact that they were asleep, that I was using Malcolm while his bare naked brother slept right there as well...the fact that they had no idea of what I was doing made it even hotter. I know, I'm a sick puppy. But like I said, I was no longer in control. I was under a spell--the spell of boymeat.

The sensitive head of my cock rubbing back and forth on his smooth, warm skin was sending electricity through my body. I sucked harder on his groin as my fucking on his leg sped up. My eyes were closed in lust but in front of me I saw white hot light, like a ball of electricity. Oh Malcolm! Oh, little Malcolm! So sweet, so hot; so innocent, so sexy! I could feel my orgasm building. It had been years since I had gone for 4 days without cumming. I couldn't help but start to make animalistic grunts and moans with my mouth full of boy balls and cock.

I somewhat tried to be quiet so as not to wake them up. The fact that I was stealing this sex time while they slept added to my nasty horny feeling. But on the other hand, I was so lost in lust at this point that I didn't really care. "Mmphh, grkkk, blmmff," I moaned, getting louder and louder. My fucking motion on his 11-year-old leg got faster and faster, until I was pistoning like a hemi engine. And that engine was about to blow.

I could feel my orgasm start to build. My entire 6-inch-cock was literally burning, as if on fire. Mentally, I was on fire, in a frenzy of friction, sucking, and evil thoughts as I jacked my fuck-stick onto this sleeping, hunk of little boy. There was almost a delay---maybe because I hadn't cum in so long--but as my orgasm approached it was as if things went into slow motion. Feelin' it... feelin' it... and then... BLAM! The explosion hit! I fought to keep my head still and keep my sucking mouth all over his boyhood. I wanted that experience while I came. Yet, my wracking orgasmic body was wanting my head to bang up and down. My cock was pumping like a spurting fire-hose--as if all the muscles in my body had converged onto it to empower it--shooting out my man-seed like an erupting geyser. "Mmmmm! Mmmmmm! MMMMMM!!!" I basically screamed into his crotch, the screams muffled by a mouthful of boymeat as well as the fact that my face was smashed obscenely onto the bottom of his trunk.

I felt a shot of my cum hit the bottom of my chin, so hard that it actually stung. I heard an actual "splat" sound as another big gob of cum landed somewhere above me onto young Malcolm. "Mmmmm! Mmmmmm! MMMMMM!!!" I screamed again into his hot, hairless crotch. I fought to keep from fainting--almost felt I was fighting to keep my sanity--to keep my head from exploding along with my man-tool. It was almost too much! OH FUCK! OH FUCK! OH FUCK! Cumming all over sleeping little Malcolm! Sucking his entire boy stuff as I did! Rubbing myself all over his smooth, pure skin! OH SHIT!!!!! AHHHH!!!! AH! Ahhhhh...

I was both relieved and disappointed as what felt like the longest orgasm of my life finally started to wind down. It was thrilling and frightening. Oh fuck! What a night! What a weekend this was going to be!

My balls finally empty and my energy spent, I reluctantly pulled my mouth off of him so I could take some deep breaths as I flopped down onto the mattress between his slender legs. I could feel the hair on top of my head brushing against his young balls. It was a great position to be in as I came down from my sexual high, and I reveled there for 15 minutes as I recovered. Finally, I got up and went to the bathroom to get a wet washcloth. I gently wiped the cum off of Malcolm and myself, then rinsed the washcloth out in the sink.

Now satisfied, I put the boys' legs back together to make a spot for me to sleep. I sighed as I snuggled down in between them. This would be the first time in my life that I would go to sleep for the night cuddled with someone and still be cuddled with them when I woke up. I know I've said it before but life was good. What a lucking guy I was!

• • • Part 5 -- Dewey's Demands * * *

I think it was the sun streaming in through the white curtains that woke me up. And what a way to wake up! I found myself half lying on top of Malcolm, him on his back and me on my side with my top arm and leg over him. And little Reese was on my other side, spooned up against me from behind, his top arm wrapped around my chest. I could feel his gentle breathing against my neck, and his hot morning wood pressed against the top of my butt. Oh man! I could stay like this forever--I mean, literally, just stay like this and starve to death before I moved. I would die happy!

I had no idea what time it was and I didn't care. As I said, I was just going to lie here forever--well, at least until the boys got up. By boys, I meant of course, Reese and Malcolm. But then I heard footsteps above me along with the sound of the television. Dewey. I better go check on him.

He was sitting on the living room couch. He had a spoon and was eating dry cereal out of a bowl. "Good morning, Cowboy," I said. (That was the nickname I had decided on for him.) Noticing the two cans of orange soda on the coffee table, I picked them up to find that they were both empty. "When did you drink these?" I asked. "Just now," he replied. "Do you want some milk on your cereal?" "I'm not allowed to pour," he answered.

I got him situated at the table with milk on his cereal while he watched his favorite Saturday cartoons. We were both still naked. I went and took a leak, then came back and made myself a cup of coffee, still groggy and trying to wake up. By the time I finished my coffee, 6-year-old sweetie-pie Dewey had finished his cereal. He put down his spoon.

"I'm ready," he said.

"Ready? Ready for what?"

"Ready for you to make me feel good like you do Reese and Malcolm."

WHAT THE FUCK?!! Inside my head I was screaming. If I had had a mouthful of coffee, surely, I would have choked. "What did they tell you, Dewey? What do you know?" I managed to barely sputter out my words as my head was spinning and my vision almost going black. "I know everything they do," he said. "They think they can keep secrets from me but they can't."

Oh shit! I was a goner! Or was I? Surely, I could deal with a 6-year-old. I could talk him out of it. I mean, I couldn't suck him. Even if I wanted to, what if he told? But then, if he already knew, he could tell about what I was doing with Reese and Malcolm. So what difference would it make if I sucked him, too? It would be a more fun weekend for his brothers if Dewey was initiated into our games. But isn't six too young? But then, he already knew about jacking off--already did it. And Malcolm wasn't into puberty either but I was doing it to him. Was it any different to do it to Dewey?

"Why is your peepee sticking up like that?" I heard the distant voice of Dewey pulling me out of my daze. "Huh?" I asked.

"Why is your peepee sticking up like that?" he said again in his young, high-pitched voice. "Because my peepee wants my mouth to suck you," I thought to myself. Out loud, I simply lied and said, "I don't know." I mean, as I said in the first chapter, I hadn't really been attracted to boys so young but seeing Dewey playing naked Indian that first day--his brashness, his attitude of maleness--it was definitely a huge turn-on. Obviously I was turned on now.

"Look, Dewey," I said, still trying to find a pathway through this surprising conversation. "What I do with Reese and Malcolm--some people would say it's very bad. They shouldn't have told you. It has to be kept a secret. I could get in big trouble if I did the same thing to you. I mean, if you ever told, even by accident, I could--"

"If you DON'T do it to me, then I WILL tell!" he interrupted. The little fucker. This six-year-old tyke was trying to blackmail me.

Coming in Chapter 10 -- The Littlest Blackmailer

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