CLOSE YOUR EYES By Zachyboy (M/b, t/b, b/b, oral, anal) Close your eyes and imagine... One. Jayson. Nothing says "come to the islands" like your tour guide Jayson, who's napping here before taking the next crew of tourists out on his dad's fishing boat. Actually, Jayson's just the captain's assistant. He's lived on Oahu all his life, and the captain is his dad. They've been sailing together for many moons, and when they don't have guests on deck, you can bet they're snuggling up together in the tiny cabin below while the waves rock the boat and so do they. Jayson and his dreamy little boner put the "deep" in dad's deep sea fishing, for sure. Right now, Jayson just fucks his Dad's butt. But all that's about to change. Two. Scotty. Scotty's been teasing you all day. He got out of the shower wet, naked and teasing, wiggled his little ass down the stairs, and knew you couldn't take your eyes off him. He knew you were staring at his pink, crinkly rosebud when he bent over to grab those light blue Tommy Hilfigers, still warm, straight out of the dryer. Now you can still see the outline of his dick and balls and he's driving you crazy. It isn't the first time he's flirted with you and then left you hanging with a hard-on the size of Texas. Fuck, man, you've got to stop watching this kid. Lusty, crazy, Downy fresh, you'd like to bend him over that counter he shouldn't be sitting on and fuck him on the spot. Put a little magic where the sun doesn't shine. But what can you do? You're only the babysitter, and you're pretty sure he'd tell his mom. That's okay. Right before you called Scotty in for a snack – he was in the living room watching Justice League – you did what any other red-blooded, blue-balled American babysitter would do. Watching him carefully through the open doorway, enjoying the rise and fall of his naked shoulders from across the room, you quickly, quietly stroked your cock, and with a grunt too soft for Scotty to hear, you came in his ice cream. "Scotty!" you yell. "Snack's ready!" Three. Badger. This little boy, with his slightly dirty jeans and his way-too-confident swagger asked me for a little lesson in politeness. First, I'll lift his Screaming Badger t- shirt and lick the salty sweat off his tummy, and if he gives me any grief about that, I'll suck his nipples, rub his sticky acorn sack, and slide the other hand down the back of his pants and undies, rubbing his hole until he's moaning for more. While I burrow through his crack, licking his rosebud, hearing him gasp as he grabs me by the head urging me deeper, I'll ask this little smart-mouth if anybody's ever painted those pretty full lips of his with man cum. He looks up sheepishly and nods his head yes. "But I'll pretend you're my first," he whispers urgently, licking his lips. Four. Chiclet Boy. Aw, sweetie. That's not a Chiclet on your tongue, that's a landing pad. Didn't your mommy ever tell you to keep your gum in your mouth? Now I'm going to have to get it all wet and soggy. You look so warm under all those covers and that hooded sweat shirt. Let's take that off of you. There we go. What's that? Your balls are all sweaty? Well, we can't have that, now can we? Let's just slide those pants out of the way. Lift those knees up in the air. Oh, yeah. Somebody's got some sweaty little balls down there. And what's that I smell? Oh-oh. Somebody didn't wipe very good. I think I'm going to need some baby wipes before I put my tongue down there. Five. Pauly. Pauly's so pretty. A boy at a skateboard park. And I can't take my eyes off him. Not for grown-up me. But for little-me, back in time. A boy this age, this shape, this size, being my first, so many years ago, prying me open for the very first time. Fuck, how I want that. Why aren't there time machines yet? I can't get Pauly out of my head. He's just this hot piece of yearning I want to add to my history. I can't fucking shake him. I want to, but I can't. 14-year-old Pauly, with his backwards baseball cap and his boner in his pants, taking little-back-in-time-me by the hand and leading me into a stall at the skateboard park, pulling my little pants down and teaching me some new special things about my little butthole. Or doing it to me up in my bedroom, hoping nobody hears me whimper in joyful need as he jabs his skinny little boystick into my gripping, pulsing, stretching ass-pussy for the first time. He feels so good inside me. I want him to fuck me like this forever. He's just at that magic age where his teenage balls are just starting to produce significant amounts of cum – the white stuff, not the clear stuff – and he's already jacking off three times a day. But he still wants to fuck me anyway. Me or anybody. He's still desperately on the lookout; that little sack of his always buzzing in the background, saying "give me more, give me more, give me a place to unload all this jizz. And back in time, 20 years before he was born, there's a little boy waiting to help him. Six. Julian. I've been more than dreaming about this beautiful boy all night, how I found him on deck on the fishing boat, and how I'd love to run the tip of my cock across his ripe, full lips, smearing them with my pre-cum and watching him smile up at me as he licked it off and quietly asked me for more. I'd suck my own finger, get it wet, and then slowly put it in his mouth and let him suck on it too. I'd lean in and kiss him, parting those puffy, warm lips with my tongue, tasting bubble gum and grape soda as his 13-year-old tongue licks back. He closes his eyes and moans sweetly as I kiss him. It feels so good to have a grown-up man love him like this. He's wanted it for so long. His little spike begins to grow, and he takes my hand in his, moves it down to his dick, presses it tight and gives me permission. I make love to him in the early morning sunlight, loving him deeply with my fingers, mouth and cock, bringing him to new waves of pleasure as the boat rocks gently on the Mediterranean Sea. Seven. Jesse. Jesse thought he was pretty big shit. After all, his parents left him alone at the campsite when they went out boating. First, he helped himself to all the marshmallows he wanted, and then he had one of his dad's beers. Then he just sat there bored with his snorkel on, because he knew his parents would kill him if he went swimming before they got back. "Hey sport, going somewhere?" I grinned from my camper next door. I couldn't resist rubbing it in. He flipped me off. Turned around started inside. Stopped in the doorway. Pulled his too-tight swim suit out of his crack. Purposely let me see him do it. Looked over his shoulder. Curled his finger at me and beckoned me inside. See that yellow table-bed in there? That's where I fucked him. It wasn't the first time, but he sure was good. His ass was sweaty and it tasted like salt. His dick was hard and his little nuts were almost non-existent. But he moaned and grunted and worked with me and he took it like a champ. His skinny chute was so heavenly tight it was rubbing my dick raw. Just when I started to feel like I was fucking a vice made out of sandpaper, I exploded in his gripping ass. He put his middle finger in his hole, felt my cum running out, scooped some out and sniffed it. Tasted it. "Yuck," he said. "Tastes like my ass." I shrugged and told him, "That's where it came from." He grinned at me wickedly and wiped it under my nose. He leaned forward. Bit me on the bottom lip. He leaned into my left ear and said in his softest little boy voice, "you fucked me hard, daddy." My dick sprang to life. "Yeah, I did," I whispered back. And I fucked him again. Eight. Benji. I'm in the mood for something pretty tonight, so it's a good thing I'm babysitting Benji. He's such a good boy. We play Legos and Mario Kart, and he likes it when I let him be Spider-Man and jump on the couch. He giggles. He's getting to old to be so giggly, but he giggles anyway, and I like it. His mom and dad told me I should give him a bath, so I do. He plays in the bubbles. I run a soft washcloth over his nipples. Squirting body wash in my hand, I gently wash his 4-inch willy until he gets a stiffy. It's a big one for his age and almost as thick as my thumb. With a slippery finger, I slowly rub it up and down his nipping rosebud, cleaning his poopie-hole, just barely letting my finger graze inside. When I stand up and pull down my sweat pants, he's not scared at all. He just smiles at me. He looks at my penis, he looks up at me and whispers, "S'big," in a little boy voice that makes my cock leak. I rub the tip of my sticky dick against his little lips, leaving them wet with a silky glaze of pre-cum. Instinctively, he opens up and takes me in. I masturbate slowly into his mouth. He has the head inside, now a little more, then just a little bit more. Not much, but enough, and he makes a very tight seal. Looking into his eyes and grunting quietly, I unload my jizz into his mouth. His eyes go wide, but he swallows it all. "Do you want more?" I ask him? "Mmm-hmm," he nods. "Yummy." And I Iead him into his bedroom where he sucks me hard and he sits on my dick. Just like I saw him do for his daddy. "Close your eyes, baby," I tell him quietly as I hold his hips and gently slide him up and down on my hard cock. He smiles at me, nods, and does what I say. "That's a good boy. Close your eyes." Nine. Derry and Logan. Your sister's boys are always talking dirty. Always playing little grab-ass games with each other. When they play on the lawn outside their house or swim in the above-ground pool at their friend's house next door, you swear you can see little tents in their swim suits. Their little nipples turn you on. You want to wet your thumb and rub your spit on them, just gently teasing them, making them pointy with your slippery saliva. You know they love each other, you know they're close as brothers can be – you hope they're "very" close – but it's not confirmed until later that night when everybody's asleep and you walk down the hall for a glass of water. You hear giggling and whispers coming from the boy's room. "Shhh! Ouch!" "Be quiet, they'll hear!" Slipping quietly to the doorway, you crack it open an inch and peek inside. Derry, the younger one, is in back of Logan, and he's slowly fucking his cock in and out of the older boy. Logan, bent over the bed, is stroking his own hard fuck stick. "I can smell your ass," Derry giggles. "You better not get shit on me." But Logan doesn't hear. Logan's eyes are closed. His head is rolled back. He's stroking himself slowly and pushing back against his brother's hard dick. He looks blissful. "Did you hear me?" Derry giggles again. "Shhh," Logan whispers. "Please. Just fuck me." # # # # # # # # # # Love, Zachyboy z.blake@mail.com