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."

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Love,
Zachyboy
z.blake@mail.com