Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 A Week of Piano Lessons (or "Say the Magic Words") (b/b/t/M, pedo, interr,
oral, anal, ws, scat) by Coproman

   MONDAY...

   At the moment I'm lying on my living room floor with the ass of an
eight-year-old white boy planted on my face and my tongue buried in his
asshole.  I know he took a shit right before he got here because he told me
so.  I also know he didn't wipe very well after he did it because he told
me that too.  But even if he'd said nothing about either, I'd still know
from the obvious evidence of both that my nose and tongue are detecting.

   So I'm busy licking the shit out of a third-grader's anus all because I
said the "magic words" as he headed for the bathroom: "There's no toilet
paper." Hearing those words put a twinkle in his big green eyes and made
him giggle because he knew right away what they meant: The piano lesson had
ended and the scat lesson was about to begin.

   Yeah, I'm a piano teacher and, if I do say so myself, a pretty good one.
I'm even MTNA certified.  I also happen to be a pervert who has an
overwhelming fascination with little boys' butts, especially what comes out
of them when they go to the bathroom.  How does one marry the profession
with the perversion?  Well, first you spread the word at only the all-boys
academies about your availability after school and on Saturdays.  Then you
schedule four lessons per day, the first three of which you devote to
homely boys and whatever girls happen to show up, and all of which are bona
fide piano lessons.  The last lesson of the day, however, you reserve for
only the cutest boys, making sure to allow enough time for extracurricular
activities without cutting the piano lesson short.  After all, when it
comes time for the recital, you don't want junior's parents questioning why
he's playing so poorly after all the money they've spent.

   "Mr.  Johnson?" my cute little brown-haired face-sitter asks.  "Are you
gonna punish me for sitting my stink doo-doo butt on your face?"

   "You BET I am, Colin!"

   "So whatcha gonna do to me?"

   "Well, as soon as I finish cleaning you up, I'm going to stick my big
black dick in your little white butthole and fuck it till I fill it up with
my hot sticky man cream."

   "Ewwwwww!" he says, giggling.  "That so NASTY!  And whatcha gonna do
after that?"

   "Probably give you an amuse-bouche."

   "Ewwwwww!  That's even NASTIER!  And after that?"

   "Well, if we still have time, I might punish you even further by
returning the favor."

   "Oh, no!  I HATE being punished THAT way!" he responds while trying to
stifle another giggle.  "But since I'm being so bad, I guess I deserve it."

   This, of course, is just part of what's become the elaborate play-acting
we go through, full of the magic words that we use to turn each other on
and cue each other's actions.  Believe it or not, I almost refused Colin as
a client.  First of all, he was a beginner, and I already had more
beginners on my schedule than I preferred.  On top of that, he was full of
restless energy and seemed to have the attention span of a gnat, so I was
concerned that I wouldn't be able to get him to sit still long enough to
teach him anything.  But his parents begged me, and their pleas, combined
with the fact that Colin, despite being rambunctious, was so adorable, won
me over.  I also became convinced that, even though he was fidgety, the boy
was an eager beaver, and if I played my cards right, I could get him to do
almost anything I wanted, both at the piano and in my bed.

   I was right.  Indeed, I was surprised by the rapid improvement of the
boy's finger work on the keyboard and my dick.  It took only two sessions
before he was able to swallow all six inches of my cock, and just two
sessions after that before, unbelievably, he was also able to take all six
in his tight little asshole.  Best of all, instead of being turned off by
the filthy things I proposed, Colin seemed to be as turned on as I was, his
big green eyes lighting up and his thin red lips curling up into a big
smile at every perverted suggestion.

   Anyway, getting back to business, I finally finish licking the shit out
of Colin's irresistable little hiney then lift him up, bend him over the
arm of my sofa, slap some lubricant on my cock, and plant my pole in his
poop chute.  He howls but quickly settles down as I bang his little white
booty like a madman, my balls slapping against his butt in a steady
staccato beat until his cheeks are nice and red.  A few minutes later, I
groan, pull those ruddy butt cheeks tight against me, and pump a two-day
load of cum deep in Colin's eight-year-old bowels as his anal sphincter
spasms wildly on my shaft.

   For the "amuse-bouche," I pull my cock out of him, walk around, and
stick it in his face.  He sniffs it, frowns, and tries to turn his head,
but I grab a handful of his silky brown hair to make him face forward again
and shove it in his mouth, "forcing" him to suck the cum, lube, and shit
off it.  His little tongue is so talented that by the time he's done
cleaning me, I'm hard again, and I end up mouth-fucking him and shooting a
second load down his throat.

   Finally comes "returning the favor," the one he claims to really hate,
only I know better.  After he swallows my cum, I tell him to follow me into
the bathroom, and like a puppy, he's right on my heels.  By now I'm ready
to take a nice big shit, but instead of sitting on the toilet, I turn
around and squat over it, so my little third-grader can get a good look at
what I'm about to do.  Only seconds later the digested remains of last
night's dinner and this morning's breakfast cascade out of my asshole and
plop into the toilet, causing the water to splash onto my butt cheeks and
probably onto Colin's face as well.  But if it has, I know he doesn't mind
because, even at his tender age, he is almost as big a scat geek as I am.

   Sure enough, about two seconds after I've dumped my stinky load, I feel
his hands on my ass cheeks, his tiny thumbs spreading my anus wide open. 
Then I feel his tongue lapping at it, gingerly at first but quickly
increasing in intensity until he is moaning, pressing his face between my
cheeks, and digging his tongue into my shitty asshole almost as deeply as I
dug mine into his at the start of our little multi-act play.

   Things end when Colin finally pulls away from me, gasping for breath. 
Like a mother cat tending to her kitten, I carefully lick all of the brown
residue off his nose, lips, and chin, culminating with a long, sensual
french kiss on his luscious red lips.  Unfortunately he won't be back until
next week; fortunately I have a lot more boys to give lessons to till then.

   TUESDAY...

   Right now I am on my knees in front of my sofa with my lips sealed over
the anus of a delicate six-year-old Hispanic boy, who is kneeling on the
sofa with his ass high and his head low.  He is in the midst of shitting
out a surprisingly large turd for his age, so large that I might have to
swallow it whole to get it all down.  I'm hoping I won't have to resort to
doing that, though, because if I do, I won't get to actually taste it,
since it will bypass my taste buds and go straight down my throat...and I
really WANT to taste it.  Fortunately the little boy's log isn't as
formidable as I feared, and I am left with no more than a big mouthful of
his shit, allowing me to enjoy not only the taste but also the texture as I
bite into it, begin to chew it up, and ponder what he could've eaten to
produce it.

   Julio is the youngest of my students and the most nerdy looking, as he
wears big black plastic-framed glasses that keep sliding down his nose. 
But he is also the most talented.  His tiny fingers fly across the keyboard
in a nimble, natural way that I imagine Mozart's did when he was six, and
it is a joy to watch him play.  It is also a joy to play WITH Julio since,
at his age, he hasn't had time to develop any of the hangups or
insecurities about sex that some of my older students have.

   So during his second lesson, when he told me he had to pee, and I told
him the toilet was broken, he was perfectly willing, at my suggestion, to
relieve himself in my mouth.  Drinking his hot boy piss was like imbibing
the nectar of the gods, and my toilet has been broken for him ever since.
He caught me a little off guard a few weeks ago, however, when he announced
that he had to do a number two.  Up till then my scat play had gone no
further than what I did with Colin, but I couldn't tell Julio that the
toilet was suddenly working again, so I decided to take the leap and again
offer up my mouth as a receptacle for his waste.

   Again Julio exhibited no hang-ups about doing his business in my mouth,
though he did ask me if I was sure.  When I assured him I was, he casually
pulled down his shorts and Thomas the Tank Engine underwear to reveal a
perfect light-skinned mini-butt.

   "Should I sit on your face now, Sir?" he politely asked.

   "Yes, Julio, but it'll be better if you take everything off first," I
said.  "That way, if you accidentally pee too, it won't get on your
clothes."

   "Okay, Sir," he said, and again, without the slightest hesitation, he
stripped off all of his clothes then just stood there buck naked, except
for his glasses, which magnified his big dark eyes.  Just seeing him so
totally vulnerable that way made me hard as a rock, and I decided that I
too should be naked for this premier event, so I took off my clothes and
smiled when I saw Julio's eyes widen at the sight of my hard-on.

   Reclining right on the living room floor, I invited the six-year-old to
squat over my face while facing my feet, so he could "keep an eye" on my
erection.  Putting a foot on either side of my head, he did just that, and
I was treated to an up-close sight of his smooth, unblemished ass and tiny
anus.  Before I could even get my mouth in place under him, that cute
little anus kissed at me, puffing out a cute little fart right in my face.

   "¡Ay Dios mio!" Julio gasped.  "I'm SO sorry, Sir!  I didn't mean to do
that!"

   "It's okay, Julio."

   I wanted to say, "Hell, boy, I'm about to eat your fucking shit!  Why
would a little fart bother me?" But I was too busy breathing in the eggy
aroma of his little-boy gas, letting it swirl around in my nostrils,
branding its fragrance on my brain, so I'd always remember it as the
prelude to what came after.

   "Can I go now, Sir?  'Cause I don't think I can hold it."

   "Yes, go ahead," I said, staring intently at his minuscule hole.

   With Julio's ass still hovering a few inches over my face, I opened my
mouth wide to receive his gift.  My tongue was trembling in anticipation as
I watched his tiny anus swell open, revealing the tip of a honey-brown
turd, its odor a stronger version of the fart I'd just finished inhaling.
It wasn't until then that it struck me how insane this was: Despite there
being a perfectly good, working toilet in the bathroom, this little latino
boy was squatting over my head and about to take a shit right in my fucking
mouth!

   Julio's asshole expanded to over an inch in diameter before his turd
started making its way out.  I wanted to lift my head and go after it, but
I held back because I was curious about its length.  Once it pushed past
his anal ring, it just kept coming--two inches, three inches, then four,
five.  I nudged Julio's ass up, urging him into a higher squat, as I was
now determined to witness the entire length of it emerge.  Finally, at
about six inches, Julio's anal sphincter contracted, and the turd dropped
directly into my mouth.

   "Mmmmmmmmmm!" I moaned, using one hand to stuff the boy's log fully into
my mouth so I could start eating it.

   "Sir, I'm not finished yet," Julio suddenly says.  "I still have to go."

   But it's no longer the same Julio, meaning the one from that first time;
now it's the one currently on my sofa.  So I do what I did during my first
venture into Human Toilet Land: I hurriedly chew up and swallow what's in
my mouth and seal my lips back over the distended opening that the
six-year-old's anus has become, doing so just in time to catch the next
serving of shit.

   "I'm REALLY sorry there's so much, Sir," Julio apologizes in his high,
girlish voice.  "I had a big breakfast."

   Well, that explains it.  I'm still amazed, though, that such a small
child is taking such a huge crap.  But I'm determined to eat his entire
load because a pretty little prodigy like him is very special and doesn't
deserve to have his bodily waste flushed down the toilet, at least not when
he's with me.

   Fortunately there's light at the end of the turd tunnel, as Julio pushes
out the last log of his digested breakfast.  He then does what he's done
every time he's fed me: He turns around and stares, so he can watch me chew
it up and swallow it down.  And as he watches, again pushing his glasses
back up on his nose, he wears the same expression he wore that very first
time--a combination of disbelief and disgust--and utters "¡Sucio!" under
his breath.

   Hearing Julio call me "dirty" and seeing his cute little face screwed up
like that are major turn-ons, and I delight in noisily devouring the smelly
products of the boy's bowel movement, burping, then opening my mouth as
wide as possible and sticking out my shit-coated tongue to show him that
his brown butt-babies have indeed disappeared down the hatch.  His frown
quickly deepens, and his obvious nausea, which quakes through his body like
a mini-orgasm, turns me on even more, especially when I notice that his
pricklet, which was soft at the beginning of the feeding, is now hard as a
nail and sticking up in all its two-and-a-half-inch glory.

   With my stomach full of boy-shit and my cock super-hard, I would like to
just get up, turn Julio around again, bend him over, and fuck his sweet
little Latino ass for all it's worth, just like I do to Colin.  But Julio's
mother coddles him so much that if I did that and she detected the least
little hitch in his step or the slightest sign of squirming when he sat
down, she'd be up his ass with a microscope and quickly find out that his
lessons were not limited to the piano.

   So I have to settle for getting my rocks off a different way.  Sometimes
I simply slide my erection up and down Julio's shallow ass crack, merely
nudging at his asshole with the head of my cock and ultimately showering
his perfect little ass with cum.  Other times I'll jack off in a saucer,
offer it to him, and get hard all over again watching him frown as he
reluctantly laps up my slimy curds and whey.  Usually, though, I'll just
shoot my load in his face.

   The boy is so cute and looks so innocent that giving him a big nasty
facial is actually a very satisfying alternative to fucking him.  I
especially like the way he waits for it, sitting on the piano bench, his
gaze shifting back and forth from my face to the rapid action of my hand on
my dick as I masturbate.  When I say "Get ready.  Here it comes," he says,
"Yes, Sir" then shuts his eyes and squinches up his face in preparation,
just like he's doing now.

   "Take off your glasses," I say, breathing hard.

   He does, and this move alone instantly sends his cute meter up and his
nerd meter down.  Since my session with Colin yesterday, I deliberately
avoided jacking off, so I'd have plenty of cum stored up for Julio today,
and I smile as he flinches every time a stream of it hits him.  I always
carefully aim to cover every part of his sweet face, especially his
eyelids, so I can see my cum clinging to his eyelashes, and his nose, so I
can hear him snorting my cum and see it bubbling out of his nostrils.

   While spurting the last of my load onto his lips and chin, I hear Julian
gasp, and when I look down, I see his little weiner twitching.  So, yes,
even though he's a nerdy little six-year-old, getting splooged in the face
has caused him to have a dry orgasm, which pleases me to no end since it's
a good indicator that his little sexual elevator, though still immature, is
more comfortable going down than up.

   When my balls are empty, I wipe my cock off in Julian curly dark hair
and announce that I'm done.  Though Julio is still squinching, his eyes
gradually flutter open just enough for him to see where he's going, upon
which he stands up, and scurries into my bedroom, so he can observe "the
yucky," as he calls it, in my full-length mirror; of course I follow him.

   "So what do you think, Julio?" I ask, standing right behind him with my
hands on his shoulders, staring with him at his cum-splattered mug.

   "I think you made a EXTRA yucky on my face, Sir."

   "And what do you think I should do about that?"

   "I think you should clean it up, Sir, before my mama comes to pick me
up."

   "I think you're absolutely right, Julio.  After all, I don't think she'd
be too pleased to see a man's sticky sperm all over your face, would she?"

   "No, Sir.  I don't think so."

   "Then, by all means, let's get you cleaned up."

   As usual the talented tyke has not deviated from our script by a single
word, probably because I've stressed to him how important it is to play his
part without improvising, as if he were playing a Bach fugue at a recital,
because it turns me on.  It is also probably because he likes it so much
when I lay him down on my bed afterwards and wash his entire face with my
tongue, swiping it over his forehead and cheeks, brushing it over his
eyelids and eyelashes, twirling it into his nostrils, and finishing with a
flourish by thrusting it deep in his mouth, so he can taste my cum as well
as the residue of what I ate out of his asshole.

   Unfortunately I can't just let him go that way, since his face now
smells like cum and spit, so I end up having to soap up a washcloth to
complete the job.  I dry him off and put his glasses back on, and after
sitting there and sweating awhile, he smells just like himself again, so
his mom is none the wiser when she picks him up, especially after I divert
her attention by bragging to her how, at only six, he's practically a
virtuoso.  And when I notice, much to my horror, that there's still a tiny
dollop of cum in his hair, I simply give him a quick "attaboy" head rub, as
if to emphasize how proud I am of him, and the last of the evidence of our
misdeeds disappears into his scalp.  Whew!  Got to be more careful next
time!

   WEDNESDAY...

   Today I'm sprawled face-down in the middle of my queen-sized bed, and a
14-year-old blue-eyed blond is furiously fucking my ass.  He was so horny
to hump me that he didn't even finish undressing.  His pants and briefs are
bunched up around his high-top Converse All-Stars.  But I understand. 
After a long day at school, he needs to get his rocks off ASAP.  His
youthful moans and grunts and his hot breath on the back of my neck as he
labors at my ass all turn me on something fierce.  So does the
slap-slap-slap of his flat white belly against my curvy black butt.  And
he's sweating too, and that also turns me on because he smells like
cinnamon.  Best of all, though, is the delicious feeling of his five-inch
slim-jim plowing my poop chute along with the anticipation of getting an
ass full of his sticky boy-juice.

   Normally I'd have rejected Kyle's parents' requests to tutor him, since
he is older than the boys I prefer.  Besides, there are any number of
certified piano teachers out there who would have been more than willing to
take him on.  But every now and then my masochistic tastes take a slightly
different turn, and my asshole itches to have a nice cock planted in
it...and I don't mean an eight-year-old's cock either.

   So I relented and told Kyle's parents that, despite my already heavy
load of students, I would make room for him in my schedule.  It also didn't
hurt that their son was absolutely gorgeous, with his pale skin, bright
blue eyes, and long blond hair.  Only a little over five feet tall and
weighing in at about 100 pounds, he's small for his age, but I discovered
very early on that he more than makes up for this deficiency with what he
carries between his legs.

   The only problem with Kyle is his newly emergent teenage hormones.  Once
we established that the piano would entail only a part of the overall
lesson he got whenever he visited me, he always showed up hot and horny, so
hot and horny that it was impossible for him (or me) to concentrate on the
piano until we both cooled down, so we had to switch the order of things:
first sex lessons then music lessons.  That's why we're in the bedroom
instead of sitting at the piano.

   "Nngh!  Nngh!  I'm cummin'!  Take it right up your fuckin' ass, teach!"

   Kyle proceeds to spurt a healthy load of teen spirit in my bowels while
trembling against my back.  The cinnamon smell is even stronger now, and I
almost wish that Kyle's sperm could truly breed me, so I could give birth
to a beautiful brood of bi-racial cinnamon-scented babies.

   "Fuck, that was good!" he announces, relaxing with his full weight on
top of me now and laying his damp blond head against my upper back.

   "Ready for your piano lesson, Kyle?" I calmly ask, already knowing what
his answer will be.

   "Almost," he says, still trying to catch his breath as his dick
continues to throb inside me.  "Let me just rest a minute first."

   I do, but these are, in fact, magic words, just like the ones Colin,
Julio, and I use, so I know exactly what's coming next.  Sure enough,
within mere minutes, I feel his wilting white willie waking up again in my
colonic cocoon, and Kyle goes for an encore performance that lasts even
longer than the original.

   Now, with a double load of white-boy cum in my ass and a heavy smell of
sex and cinnamon in the air, I'm super-horny, super-hard and super-eager to
hear Kyle utter his magic words.  Fortunately it doesn't take him long.

   "Hey, teach, I'm ready for my lesson, now," he says, "but first I want a
treat."

   I turn my head just far enough around to catch a glimpse of the devilsih
smile on his cute sweating red face.  "You've already gotten a DOUBLE
treat, young man, so now you're telling me you want ANOTHER?"

   "Yep."

   "That's 'yes,' young man.  And do you remember what I told you the last
time you were here about being greedy, or do I have to remind you?"

   Right away his smile brightens.  "I'm not sure, teach.  I don't remember
stuff too good, so I guess you have to remind me."

   That's our cue.  Kyle lifts up, pulling his dick out of my hole, and
flops over on his back.  He then maneuvers around until his head is hanging
off the side of the bed.  With his face upside down and his long blond hair
hanging down, he winks at me.  I smile and wink back, and while Kyle's
sticky cum steadily oozes out of my asshole, I scurry off the bed and take
my stance above him, sliding my dick over his face, smearing it with
pre-cum, before taking aim at his mouth.

   The angle of Kyle's head allows me to bury my cock to the balls in his
throat without triggering his gag reflex.  After holding my position for
about a minute, as the teenager adjusts to breathing through his nose, I
begin to "punish" him for being greedy by sliding the full length of my
boner up and down his esophagus.  At first I hold back, but within a few
minutes I am passionately throat-fucking the blond, my balls bouncing off
his nose with every in-stroke.

   I can hear spit sloshing around in Kyle's mouth as his teenaged throat
becomes the most magnificent pussy I've never fucked :-).  But even as I
fuck his food tube, Kyle's teen hormones kick in again, his dick begins to
grow, and in less than two minutes it's back to its fabulous five-inch
hardness, the red, shit-smeared glans rubbing against his milky white
stomach, staining it.  Without missing a beat, I dip my head down and slip
his cock into my mouth, and we're instantly engaged in a passionate
adult/teen sixty-nine.

   There's moaning and grunting galore as we slurp away at each other's
schlongs.  But, as usual, we are both so turned on that this suck-fest
doesn't last long.  I feel my cock swelling, pressing against the walls of
Kyle's esophagus right before the release, when it begins to throb,
spitting a slimy load of semen straight down the handsome juvenile's
throat. Normally I'd be shouting obscenities, but instead, with Kyle's rod
fully in my mouth, I am pressing my lips against his lightly haired pubes
and humming, sending vibrations along his shaft.  He reacts by moaning even
louder and shivering as he squirts a fresh load of sperm in my mouth, which
I quickly swallow.

   The workout leaves both of us spent, but I manage to push myself off the
14-year-old, let his dick drop out of my mouth, and pull my cock out of his
throat.  A big wad of spit exits with it, but I am satisfied that most of
my cum is already in his tummy, or at least making its way there.  His face
is red where my crotch was banging against it, and his eyes are red and
watery, but he is smiling brightly, letting me know how much he enjoyed his
"treat."

   "All right, young man, enough fooling around," I announce.  "It's time
for your piano lesson."

   "Right.  Anything you say, teach."

   So we finally get to work.  Now that we've gotten the sex monkeys off
our backs, we both slip easily into the traditional roles of piano teacher
and student.  Normally delays irritate me, but today I don't mind because
Kyle is playing better than ever, the itch in my asshole is gone, and my
libido is satiated...at least for the time being :-).

   THURSDAY...

   Presently my dick is buried to the balls in the asshole of a
ten-year-old Chinese boy, who's on all fours on my divan, and I'm just
about to flood his bowels with the load that my gonads started cooking up
right after I came down Kyle's throat.

   "Nngh!  Yeah!" I grunt, grabbing a handful of Peng's silky black hair
and yanking, making him gasp as his head snaps back.  "Take it, boy!  Take
that fucking cum right in your tight little Chink ass!"

   I proceed to shoot a copious load of semen deep in the cute Asian's
colon, and I can feel his anal sphincter spasming, clutching at my
throbbing cock, draining me.  I don't know if he's doing it deliberately or
if it's his rectum's automatic reaction to having to a shitload of sperm
pumped into it.  Whichever it is, it feels wonderful and ensures a maximum
transfer of semen from my adult dick to his preteen poop chute.

   When, after a brief rest, I start pulling my dick out of Peng's
shithole, I remind him that he needs to be quick on the draw when the head
pops out.  And he is, squeezing his sphincter shut so quickly that not a
drop of cum escapes.

   "Good boy!" I say, slowly backing away from him and lying on my back,
never taking my eyes off his anus.

   Peng turns his head back briefly to make sure I'm in position then asks,
"Are you ready for your morning milk, Mr.  Johnson?"

   His magic words send what feels like a tiny electric shock through my
genitals, instantly reawakening them.  I clear my throat and say, "Yes,
Peng, and I don't mind if it's chocolate milk either."

   Peng inches back until he is right on top of me, his ass hovering over
my face.  I reach up and gently grasp his buns, finetuning his position,
then smack one cheek, move my hands away, and open my mouth.

   The ten-year-old's pucker purses open and a series of smelly little
farts puff out followed by a huge gob of cum, which just hangs there in a
long gooey strand over my mouth, as if teasing me, before finally dropping.
I catch it on my tongue, swallow it, and open my mouth again, preparing to
receive Peng's next offering.  For me, there has always been something
particularly perverse about shooting your load up a boy's dirty ass then
having him feed it back to you.  It's almost as if you're saying, "I'm no
good eating my own baby-makers fresh and clean from the source.  I prefer
dropping them off at the local mud puddle, letting them wallow around until
they're filthy, THEN slurping them down."

   Peng pushes out another big dollop of "milk," which again hangs for
several seconds, in that viscous way that only semen can, before gravity
pulls it down far enough to reach my mouth.  But this time it keeps coming,
steadily drooling out of the little Asian boy's anus and onto my tongue.  I
can actually see tiny particles of shit suspended in the translucent white
slime, but this only makes me even more eager to swallow it.  As soon as I
do, Peng turns his head to the side and whispers the magic words I was
hoping to hear:

   "Mr.  Johnson, I need to tell you--there might be a little more
chocolate than milk this time."

   I smile.  "That's fine, Peng.  More chocolate is fine."

   I knew I would accept Peng as a client the moment his parents introduced
him to me.  He's as cute as a button, with an easy smile and a classic
bowl/early Beatles haircut that hides everything but the lobes of both ears
and results in a beautiful set of bangs that completely covers his
forehead. Of course, being Asian, he doesn't have much of an ass, but I had
no problem with this, telling myself that this particular attribute would
allow me to insert my tongue, finger, or cock that much farther inside him,
being that there'd be no excess butt to get in the way.

   But as eager as I was to get started on Peng's sex lessons, I was
hesitant.  I simply didn't know enough about Chinese culture to predict how
he would react.  I'd always heard that, among Asians, a teacher's
instructions were to be followed without question, but what if he reacted
negatively to my sexual advances and told his parents?  If so, I would be,
as they used to say in Beijing, a dead Peking duck.

   So I proceeded very slowly with the boy, mostly using the old standbys
of going to the door with very little on whenever he arrived, pretending to
be in the middle of getting dressed; "accidentally" leaving the bathroom
door open, allowing him to "catch" me taking a piss; and, finally, "hiding"
a "Boys for Men" magazine where he could easily find it, leaving the room,
and spying on his reaction to the pedophilia.  When I saw that familiar
fixed stare of fascination and Peng started rubbing at his crotch as he
turned the pages, I felt pretty confident that I need not continue to
worry.

   I was right.  Peng turned out to be just another horny little
All-American boy, just like the rest of my clients, and when I rushed back
into the room and "busted" him jerking off to the images in the magazine,
we made a mutual pact: I promised not to tell his parents what I'd caught
him doing if he promised not to tell them about whatever we did after the
piano lessons.  Even after this, though, I had planned to confine my sex
with Peng to nothing more than a little fellatio.  But when he confessed to
me that his 16-year-old cousin, who picks him up from school and drops him
off for his piano lessons, had been fucking him for almost two years, I
suddenly developed an insatiable appetite for Peng's poo poo platter, and
only a couple of weeks later my dick was delving into the depths his
delectable little doo-doo hole.

   Not too long afterwards, I also discovered that Peng liked it rough,
which was when I started pulling his hair and smacking his ass.  Because of
my own tendency to flip-flop, however, I prefer that my boys not be
strictly tops or bottoms.  But it was difficult getting Peng to be more
aggressive towards me, since it went against his nature.  So one day, right
after his piano lesson, I surprised him by lifting him up, standing him on
the piano bench, snatching his shorts and underwear down, grabbing his ass,
and sucking his little Chinese cock.  I got him so worked up that it
instantly hardened in my mouth to its full three and a half inches; and I
smiled in satisfaction when he instinctively grabbed my head and started
fucking my face.  It was as if the assertiveness that had been dormant
inside him all his life was suddenly fully active, like magma making its
way to the top of a volcano, and that volcano was about to blow.

   "Ooh!  Ooh!  Ooh!" Peng hooted, his ten-year-old body trembling against
my face and his penis throbbing between my lips as he experienced an almost
violent dry orgasm.  Afterwards, as he panted heavily, his legs buckled and
his body went limp, and I had to hold on tight to his butt to keep him from
falling off the bench.  I sat him down, and as soon as he caught his
breath, he started apologizing profusely, so much that I gently put a
finger to his lips.

   "Shhhh," I said, smiling.  "It's okay, Peng.  That's exactly what I was
hoping you'd do...and, please, feel free to fuck my face again whenever you
feel the need."

   I'm recalling that look of awe on Peng's face when I said that, but my
trip down memory lane is interrupted by a loud fart followed by a funky
smell followed by a loose mixture of shit and semen plopping into my mouth.
It's the chocolate Peng warned me about, and there is indeed more of it
than the milk.  But there's something about the combination of Peng's
chocolate and my milk that acts as an aphrodisiac on me, and by the time
he's finished serving it and I've finished eating it, my cock is at full
mast again and leaking precum.

   I know Peng has been watching my dick re-harden, since that's something
he enjoys doing.  I also know that his instinct is to take it into his
mouth and suck me off.  But he resists the impulse because he's waiting to
hear which magic words I use.

   "Peng, I'm taking the tunnel back home," I finally say.  "You ready to
go?"

   "Yes, Mr.  Johnson."

   Of course I'm referring to Peng's turd tunnel.  This is just our special
way of saying that I'm craving sloppy seconds in his dirty asshole.  So I
pull myself up, hunker over the boy, and shove my newly erect prong back in
his boy-pussy, eliciting a shudder and a drawn-out moan from the
fifth-grader.  As I encore-fuck his cute little Asian ass, I realize that
it will take a little longer to clean him up after I shoot my second load
in him, but I'm not worried.  By the time he leaves here to go home, hell
be fresh as a daisy.

   FRIDAY...

   At this time I'm in the living room, and my dick is in the mouth of a
light-skinned nine-year-old black boy, who is sitting on the piano bench.
More accurately, he is holding the head of my dick between his lips.  I am
only semi-hard, though, and I'm hoping to stay that way, at least for a
little while, because I have to urinate, and an erection will only get in
the way of going.

   "Fuck, yeah!  Drink that fucking piss, you little pussy!" I say through
clenched teeth, holding on tight to Shamar's head and staring straight into
his pleading eyes as I flood his mouth with my golden stream.  "Your mouth
is my personal fucking urinal!"

   Shamar frowns as he gulps down mouthful after mouthful of hot
piss--maybe because it tastes bad, maybe because I never washed my dick
after fucking Peng's ass yesterday, maybe a combination of the two--but
even the scowl looks cute on his pretty cafe-au-lait face.  He is a
mixed-race child who seems to have inherited all of the best features of
his black father and white mother, including his hazel eyes, a button nose,
full lips, curly brown hair, and, best of all, a prominent little butt, so
prominent that it keeps his shirttail from hanging straight down.  I'm not
sure who he inherited his sexual preferences from.

   When I first met Shamar, he was so quiet that I thought he was autistic,
but I soon realized that he only spoke when absolutely necessary, which in
most cases, he's apparently decided, it is not.  At the piano he simply
nods to acknowledge that he understands what I'm telling him, and with the
sex he is equally quiet, silently responding to whatever magic words I use.
In fact, the last time he actually spoke was several sessions ago, when I
was in the process of taking his anal cherry.  My dick was about half way
up Shamar's virgin asshole, and he was squirming, frowning, wincing, and
making so much noise that I was afraid I was hurting him, so I started
pulling out.  But as soon as he realized what I was doing, he quickly
turned his head around and gasped, "No!  Don't stop!" Shocked to hear him
speak, I quickly reversed course, forging ahead and eventually bottoming
out in his succulent little shithole.  I proceeded to fuck the living shit
out of his bubble butt and, only a few minutes later, baptized his bowels
in a shitload of semen.  It was one of the most intense orgasms I've ever
experienced.

   So, no, his lack of witty repartee during our sessions doesn't bother me
at all, especially since, of all my clients, Shamar comes closest to
naturally being what I look for: equally dominant and submissive.  That's
why he has no problem being my human toilet.  He knows that, at some point
during our session, we'll reverse roles and he'll be on top.  All he has to
do is wait his turn.

   When I've nearly emptied my bladder, I pull my cock out of Shamar's
mouth and let go with the last few squirts of piss right in his face,
making him flinch and rub his eyes.  Humiliating him this way turns me on
like crazy, partly because I know how much he enjoys it and partly because
I'm anticipating his retribution.  That will have to wait, though, because
now I'm hard as a rock and desperately need some release, so I push my dick
right back in Shamar's mouth, clasp my hands around the back of his head,
and fuck his mouth.

   The fourth-grader remains as submissive as ever, his hands at his sides
as I thrust my cock farther and farther down his throat with every
in-stroke.  At one point I pull his head forward and raise up on my toes to
get a better angle, and though his face is all squinched up, tears are
streaming down his cheeks, and he's making all kinds of weird
half-strangling sounds as I face-fuck him, he never once pushes me away. 
Finally I'm ready to send my seed to the same place I sent my piss.

   "Oh, fuck!  Goddamn!" I yell, trembling as I pull Shamar's face tight
into my pubic hair, jamming my cock as far down his throat as it will go.
"Swallow that fucking cum, bitch!

   Shamar does no more than moan and hold on to the back of my thighs as I
blast a big slimy load of baby-makers directly down his throat and straight
into his stomach.  I not only hear but feel him swallowing, as his
esophagus contracts on my dick, draining my balls.  Only when I'm sure he's
gulped down every last sperm cell do I finally withdraw my cock from his
throat.  It comes out with a squelch and a cough, after which Shamar closes
his teary eyes and gasps to get his breath back.

   My orgasm was so intense that it has left me weak in the knees, and I
stumble back and drop down on the sofa.  For the next few minutes I just
sit there staring at my cute little light-skinned pupil, who is still
sucking air on the piano bench.  I smile as I imagine hundreds of millions
of my sperm swimming around in his tummy.  But now that I'm relaxed, I'm
feeling submissive, so I need to provoke Shamar into switching over to his
dominant side.

   "So tell me, kiddo," I say to him, "are you ready to get me back, or are
you too much of a pussy to do it?"

   My magic words have the desired effect, and the change in Shamar is
dramatic.  Peering at me through narrowed eyes and holding his lips tight,
he slowly gets up, walks over, stands directly in front of me and, raring
back, slaps me in dead the face, hitting me so hard that it leaves my cheek
burning.  This is his not-so-subtle signal to me to assume my submissive
position, so I get down on the floor on my hands and knees with my head
very low and my ass very high, which perfectly aligns my asshole with the
boy's three-and-a-half-inch erection.  He wastes no time getting behind me
and poking it in me.

   Shamar's fucking is somewhere between a jackrabbit and a jackhammer, and
the feeling of his pecker rapidly penetrating my poop chute is amazing. 
Unfortunately his pace is so manic that it doesn't last long, and before
I'm ready for it to end, the nine-year-old gasps, and I feel his tool
throbbing in my asshole as his body shivers through a dry orgasm.

   But afterwards, instead of pulling out, he stays where he is, holding on
to my ass and breathing heavily.  Seconds later I feel a tiny hot trickle
inside my anus that quickly turns into a steady hot stream.  The cute
little imp is taking a piss right in my ass!  I'm thinking, Since he can't
make sperm yet, maybe this is his way of cumming in me, and it's SO
imaginative!  What I really like about it, though, is that it's much more
than just getting an ass full of cum.  It's more like getting an enema, as
Shamar's hot pee courses through my colon; and the occasional cramping I
feel is just another way of his dominating me.

   The only problem with Shamar's little trick is that his piss won't stay
inside me, so as soon as he's done and pulls out, I have to jump up and
make a beeline to the bathroom.  The fourth-grader is right on my tail as I
rush inside and plop down on the toilet.  I end up shitting out not only
the boy's pee but a few of my own stray turds as well, and the feeling of
everything rushing out of my anus brings a marvelous sensation of relief.

   Shamar stands right in front of me, watching me go.  He smiles smugly,
apparently pleased that he caused me enough distress to have to run in
here, then points to his dick, which is hard again and proudly pointing at
my face.  He moves closer, close enough for me to lean over and take his
turgid little tool into my mouth.  It reeks of shit and piss, but I suck it
anyway then hold on to Shamar's hot little hiney as he begins to mouth-fuck
me.  After he shivers through another dry orgasm, he surprises me again by
squirting in my mouth a stream of piss that he apparently saved from
earlier.  I swallow it, and when he pulls his prick out of my mouth, I kiss
the tip of it, gaze directly into the boy's hazel eyes, and, smiling, give
him a thumb's up to let him know how good a job he did of getting back at
me.

   SATURDAY (morning)...

   Currently I am on my hands and knees on my bedroom floor, and there's a
hard brown dick in my mouth and another one in my ass.  I'm at the mercy of
Haj and Raj, 11-year-old identical twin Indian boys, who are apparently
having an "awesome" time spit-roasting me because they keep saying
"awesome" over and over again.  At their parents' suggestion, I agreed to
teach both boys in one extended session.  Mom and Dad felt that, being so
competitive, the boys would learn faster than if they took separate
lessons, and they were right, so I extended the session and gave them a
discount.  Fortunately, it was worth it because the boys turn out to be
just as competitive with sex as they are with music.

   "I fuck better than you," says Haj, who's slipping his four-inch stiffie
in and out of my mouth.

   "No you don't," says Raj, who's poking his four-inch pecker in my
butthole.

   "Yes I do!"

   "No you don't!"

   "YES I DO!!"

   "NO YOU DON'T!"

   As the argument intensifies, both boys fuck me harder, driving me
forward and back as two pairs of brown balls alternately slap against my
chin and my ass cheeks.  But I don't mind.  It feels "awesome," both
physically and psychologically, to be the object of their lustful
competition, especially since I know that, in the end, I'll be rewarded
with spurts of watery cum from their underdeveloped gonads.

   Today's two-top/one-bottom configuration, as well as where we're doing
it, is out of the ordinary because usually I will have the boys do a
sixty-nine or fuck each other on my bed while I watch them and masturbate
in my easy chair.  Just watching the boys--with their lean brown bodies,
straight black hair, and big brown eyes--go at each other with such energy
is a tremendous turn-on.  Then, at the last minute, I'll join the party by
plugging whosever butthole is available at the time.  (I haven't been
keeping score, but so far I think each boy has probably gotten an equal
share of my spunk.) Afterwards, if I cum in Haj's ass, I'll have Raj suck
it out and spit it in my mouth; vice versa if I cum in Raj's ass.

   But when I woke up today, I realized that the workout I'd had with
Shamar the day before was merely an appetizer that now had me craving teen
dick again, and since I didn't want to wait till the following Wednesday,
when Kyle would be back, I decided to take advantage of the twins' twin
rods.  Yeah, I wouldn't get a big slimy load of semen along with it, but
the simultaneous mouth and butt fucking would be enough to satisfy me in
the mean time.

   "Shit, I'm gonna cum!" Haj suddenly says.

   "Me too!" says Raj.

   This is the part I like the most because both boys temporarily forget
the competition and lose themselves in their orgasms, fucking me super-fast
then gasping, stiffening, and shivering as their pricks throb in my mouth
and ass and spit out thin streams of sticky fluid.  Only my mouth detects
it, as it lands on my tongue, and there is a sweetness to it that's hard to
describe but that I've come to treasure since it is the very first stage of
development of their semen, an immature substance their young bodies will
produce for only a short time before it becomes adulterated with a growing
number of sperm cells.

   "Wow, that was hot," says Haj, his dick still in my mouth.

   "Yeah, REAL hot," says Raj, his dick still in my ass.

   "Yeah, that WAS pretty hot," I say, once Haj's dick is out of my mouth,
"but now I'M hot, so I need to cool off."

   Yes, these are more magic words, and as soon as the boys hear them, they
giggle, pull out of me, and scamper into the bathroom.  By the time I join
them, they are already standing at opposite ends of the bathtub waiting for
me.  I step into the tub and sit down between them.  Seconds later I am
showered in hot Indian boy piss.  They aim their golden streams up and down
my body but keep coming back to my face, but they do not completely empty
their bladders.  When they are nearly done, both boys clamp down on their
dicks, move as close together as possible, and wait for me to get into
position in front of them, my head level with their crotches.  I then grab
their little butts and open my mouth wide.  They release the holds on their
dicks and flood my mouth with their remaining piss.  I swallow most of it,
but it comes so fast that some of it runs down my chin and torso, ending up
in my pubic hair.  When the boys finally finish going, I gently grasp each
dick individually and lick off the last drops of pee.

   Still feeling a little nasty, I have both boys turn around and bend
over. After admiring their identical brown butts, I finger-fuck first Haj's
then Raj's asshole then reignite their competitive fires by telling them
that whoever pushes out a turd first will get a special treat.  This is an
impromptu request.  Normally I would have given the boys the magic words at
the end of our previous session, they both would have held off moving their
bowels until they got here, and I'd have feasted on a big breakfast of
Indian butt fudge while Haj and Raj argued over who'd fed me the bigger
load.

   But since the boys didn't show up today expecting to shit in my mouth,
they probably went before they left home, so MY special treat today is
listening to them strain as they try extra hard to force something out of
their bowels that may or may not even be there.  Haj comes through first,
but it turns out to be only a fart, which toots comically out of his little
butthole.  It has a pleasantly stinky smell, and I snuff it up before
either of them can smell it.  But Raj meets the challenge when a tiny
turdlet pops out of his anus.  I catch it mid-flight on my tongue and
swallow it.  And Raj's special treat?  A thorough tongue-reaming and
cleaning of his shitty asshole while he butt-fucks his brother.  When Raj
cums, I make sure my tongue is as far up his ass as I can get it, so I can
feel those delightful little contractions tugging at it.  Afterwards, I
can't resist sucking Raj's cum out of Haj's anus, so, really, Haj gets a
treat too, even though he lost.

   By then my dick is super-hard, leaking precum, and very hungry.  So we
return to the bedroom, where, after slouching down in my easy chair, I tell
Raj to come over and get the other part of his treat.  His face lights up
and, shoving his brother out of his way, he scrambles over, hops in my lap,
holds on to my shoulders, and carefully limpales himself on my pole,
grunting and as the glans pops into his ass and grimacing as the shaft
slowly pushes all the way inside him.  I hold on to his hips, and Raj,
without even waiting to take a breath, proceeds to bounce up and down,
immediately riding my rod.  The tightness of his and intense heat of his
rectum and his unbridled enthusiasm in fucking me combine to drive me wild.

   Haj is standing right in front of us, staring wide-eyed at the action
with spit drooling out of his open mouth as he jacks off.  The last thing I
want him to do is cum on the carpet, so I stretch out as much as possible,
urge Raj to lean forward, and motion Haj to join us.  He understands
exactly what I mean and immediately climbs on top of us and wedges his
hard-on between the top of Raj's stuffed hole and the underside of my cock.
The presence of Haj's dick in his brother's super-cramped back quarters
intensifies the heat and pulsations I'm feeling on my shaft, causing both
Raj and me to let go with a long, low moan as I reach around and hold on to
Haj's ass cheeks, pressing our human sandwich together.

   Once Haj is fully saddled, he realizes that now he, and no longer his
brother, must do most of the work, and he's more than equal to the task,
first waiting for my cock to drool more precum into Raj's rectum, then
slowly sliding his stiffy in and out of his brother's super-stretched hole.
The feeling of Haj's cock rubbing against mine inside Raj is incredible,
and the faster he goes, the tighter I hold on to his flexing, huggable
little buns, and the harder it's going to be to hold back my orgasm.

   Haj quickly gets up to full steam, simultaneously fucking his brother's
ass and my dick, and I start humping my hips to fuck Raj's ass from below,
continuing to hold on tight to Haj's bucking butt.  But the multitude of
sensations--including the humping, the moaning, even the weight of the boys
on top of me--is too much, making it impossible for me to hold out much
longer.  In fact, I'm good for only another minute before the dam bursts.

   "Shit!  Fuck!  I'm cumming!" I yell, trembling as I lift my hips and
pull on Haj's buns, squeezing our mismatched sandwich even tighter
together. "Take it right up your fucking ass, Raj!"

   "Yeah," Raj moans, squirming on top of me as I squirt a shitload of
spunk in his hot little hiney.  "Fill me up, Mr.  Teacher!"

   "I'm cumming too!" says Haj, and I can feel his little ass twitching and
his little cock throbbing and spitting a thin stream of sperm right on top
of my dick.

   Then, right after that, Raj gasps, shakes, and his cock, which is
pressed between us, spurts a slimy little load on my stomach.

   For me the aftermath is almost as exhilarating as the fucking, as the
three of us lie on top of each other--hot, sweaty, exhausted, and stinking
of male sex and piss.  Too bad we can't just stay this way.  It would be
nice if we could fall asleep in this position, and whenever we woke up, we
could just engage in another three-way fuck then go right back to sleep. 
Unfortunately their dad will be coming around soon to pick them up, so even
though we are all ready for a nap, we reluctantly disconnect and slog into
the bathroom.

   The boys take a shower together, washing away all evidence of our
après-piano lesson activities.  They invite me to shower with them, but I
decline, explaining how I want to keep odors of our fuck session on me for
as long as possible.  (Since their dad never comes inside to pick them up,
I'm not concerned about his getting close enough to me to smell me and
spark any suspicions.)

   When the boys are nice and clean, I dry their hair (first with a towel
then a hair dryer), and they get dressed.  As soon as they're all groomed
up, we hear their dad tapping out the familiar "Shave and a Haircut" on his
car's horn.  I open the front door and wave to him; he he waves back, and
as I usher his sons out, I say, "Okay, boys, don't forget: sausage and eggs
next week, okay?"

   Hearing these magic words, Haj and Raj giggle out a duet of "okay" as
they dash outside, understanding that next Saturday morning, they should
avoid taking a shit or jacking off before they leave home.  I just need to
remember to confine my pre-lesson sustenance that day to no more than a cup
of coffee.

   SATURDAY (afternoon)...

   At the moment I'm sitting here with no ass planted on my face, no dick
in my mouth or up my ass, no throat or asshole swallowing my cock, and no
piss or shit in my mouth.  In other words I'm, as the kids say, "chillin',"
as I recover from my workout with the twins.  Had this been a Saturday
during my first year of teaching, I'd have been in the middle of giving
another bona fide piano lesson to yet another plain john or jane before
calling it a day.  But it didn't take me long to realize that I needed more
than just Sunday to fully recover from a week's worth of sextracurricular
activities.

   That's why the "here" I'm sitting is not at home but at a recital, where
Dalton, a former student of mine, plays Rachmaninoff's Prelude in C Sharp
Minor.  He is now a high school senior and such an accomplished pianist
that he's been given a full scholarship to Juilliard (!) He first showed up
for lessons about five years ago, when he was twelve, and very much like
Julio, he was a natural.

   When Dalton finishes the opus, there is wild applause.  He smiles and
bows, graciously acknowledging the audience's acclaim.  Then he spots me
and gives me the okay sign.  I return it, but so does almost everyone
around me, which makes me wonder if he saw me at all and if the sign was
really meant for someone else.  The emcee then brings all the performers
back on stage for a final bow, after which the house lights come up, and
the audience gets up and begins to file out.

   But I don't follow them.  Instead I rush to a side door that leads
backstage.  The stagehand recognizes me and lets me through to the green
room, where I see Dalton among the other performers.  When he sees me, his
blue eyes light up, and we exchange a big hug.  I tell him how proud I am
of him and wish him the best of luck at Juilliard.  He thanks me and tells
me how he couldn't have done it without me.  I want to chat with him for a
while, but I realize that his family and friends are waiting outside to
congratulate him and treat him to the customary post-performance luncheon,
so I keep it short, basically telling him to keep up the good work and to
please keep in touch.  We then embrace again, but as I walk away, Dalton
calls me, and when I turn around he gives me the okay sign again and says,
"It was for you," which makes me smile.

   As I leave the auditorium, I reach into my jacket pocket for my car keys
and find something unexpected--a small envelope with "To my favorite
teacher" written on it.  Apparently Dalton slipped it to me during one of
our hugs.  I wait till I get in the car to open it:

   Dear Mr.  Johnson,

   This is just a note to let you know how much I appreciate everything you
did

   for me.  I have you to thank in particular for my Juilliard scholarship.
The head admissions officer was particularly impressed by me, and when he
made it

   clear that he would need a private performance to ensure that I was good
enough to be accepted into the school, I was easily able to accommodate
him,

   being that you taught me so well.  (By the way, your piano lessons
helped a

   lot too :-)!)

   Best,

   Dalton

   The note not only makes me smile again but also gives me a warm feeling
all over, as I recall the wonderful sessions I had with Dalton during those
years.  (And it's particularly good to know that my special students are
benefitting from more than just the music part of my lessons!)


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