EVERYBODY MEET LIAM, EVERYBODY MEET LANDON By Zachyboy (M/M/b/b, babysitting, oral, anal, buttplay, brothers, incest) Chapter 1. You Look at Pictures. Even before you meet Liam and Landon for the first time, you're already looking at their pictures in their photo album and hoping their dad will hurry up and leave you the keys. "You'll like these boys," he smiles almost mysteriously, before stepping out of the room to take a phone call. "They like to play." You look up, surprised. "Don't worry," says their dad, giving you a knowing wink. "They'll tell you their rules." Your heart skips a beat as their dad leaves the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the small photo album he's given you to look at. So, even before you help Landon pee that night, and shake the few remaining drops out of his tangy little piss stick, you've already seen him shirtless and wild on the sidewalk in front of his house, little fishy swim trunks on, squirt bottle in hand, big brother Liam leaning out from behind him, mugging for the camera. Even before your explosive cum drips warm and runny down little Landy's bare leg, while Buzz Lightyear watches with his trademark smile from the bunched undies at Landon's ankles, you already know what the little boy's half-naked skin looks like, to infinity and beyond. Even before your brother Brad spreads Liam's ass cheeks apart and gives him that long, shivery tongue lap like a dog, sending all kinds of tingles through his overly-active nerve endings, even before Brad creams that crack and sticks his tip in the hole, loading Liam with a shotful of stickiness, you've already seen Liam and Landon on the shores of Comstock Lake, shirtless, smiling, eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches before they jumped in for a splash. If Dad's winking hint is any indication of the night to come, Brad's going to fill that little boy up and you know it, but right now they're just eating PB&J and smiling, innocent as the day is long. Wouldn't you like to kiss their sweaty little necks before you lick all that sticky jelly from between Liam's teeth? His sweet tasty, tongue blowing soft, hot peanut-butter breath into your wet and waiting mouth? Yes, I think you would. Their dad is on the phone, talking business, wrapping things up while you sit on the couch, flipping through their photo album, wondering what he meant by "they'll tell you their rules?" Has dad already played the little Liam and Landon games you're about to play tonight? By the look of his wink and the leering grin he gave you, the answer is apparently yes. You're the last-minute babysitter, and you come highly recommended by Marco's mom Deanna, who loves you like a brother. She told Liam and Landon's dad you "had a way with boys," and she meant that sincerely, not knowing herself you've been licking, fingering and sucking her 7-year-old son for over a year now, that sweet little flavor factory you've come to know and enjoy so well. And on her recommendation, here you are looking at the photos of the next two boys on your ever-widening menu, while a seemingly calm and compliant dad sets the stage for a definite event...a pervert's dream and a father's blessing, all rolled into one. You go back to your pictures, knowing Liam and Landon will get off the school bus soon and come through that door to find that dad's on his way out of town for another three-day business trip, while you step in as the last-minute substitute for their regular babysitter, Angela, who is down with the flu. They won't mind. They know the drill. So, you look at the next picture of Liam and Landon in helmets and knee-pads, looking adorable and ready to roller skate. Liam is a dark-haired boy who just turned 9. Landon is smaller and remarkably blond, and he looks like he's not much past 6. They're standing in a parking lot, all laced up and ready to skate. You wonder how many times those pretty little asses took a tumble that day as they wobbled on wheels. You think about how you'd like to pull down their pants that night and rub their sore little bottoms and kiss all those bruises away. The ones on the outside and the ones on the inside. The next photo shows them on the steps of their house, adorable and serene, hands on chins, elbows tucked onto legs. Landon is sticking his tongue out, being goofy for the camera. His pants leg is riding up just the tiniest bit, showing a little hint of bare calf and a white ankle sock underneath. Even before you lick that tiny tongue and stroke that creamy boy calf for real tonight, you see it in a family photo while you wait for dad to finish his phone call. Even before you see what Liam and Landon look like under the dirty jeans they'll inevitably come home in – their dad says they play some pretty rough and stinky soccer after school – you see them in a photo, standing on the porch of a cabin at another lake, boys of summer, stocking-footed, still looking clean and fresh-faced, even though their jeans have seen at least three day's worth of dirt. You wonder what those undies smell like under those jeans, all ripe and earthy with a seat full of magical boy musk from a hard, long weekend of play, and not much reason, as men of the lake, to change into fresh clothes until the weekend is over. The pictures and the images swirl through your mind as fast as you can flip the pages – Liam and Landon at the very table you're sitting at now, a windmill out of popsicle sticks. Liam peaceful in a red shirt and subdued smile, Landon in pajamas, ready for bed. Your dick starts to grow, knowing it'll be you tucking Landon into those pj's the next few nights, while your brother Brad is downstairs, teaching Liam what he's already done to other little boys. And from the sound of dad's enticing promise, it looks like Liam might be teaching Brad a thing or two too. Next picture: Liam and Landon in safari hats. Is that a rainforest? No, it can't be. Who takes their kids to a rainforest? But dad has money. Who knows. Next picture: Liam and Landon on the floor, bent over, playing with Legos, little boy bottoms up in the air, inviting comment and scrutiny. Before too many hours go by, you'll be offering both. Next picture: Liam and Landon standing at the entrance of a cave somewhere – this is obviously a well-traveled family – they're in their soccer uniforms in this one, no doubt stinky and sweet from a full day's exploring. You'll be exploring both of them with Brad soon. You'll know exactly what it smells like under those dirty little uniforms. You'll get a taste straight from the source, from the very opening of the cave, like you've done so many times before on these babysitting jobs you love so much. Seems a shame to even take money for them, but well, a man has to eat. And eat you will. Your dick gets harder as you turn the page and there's little Landon with his arms around Liam's neck, outside having a picnic table lunch at some mid-city eatery. They look so damn pretty together. Not stunning boys in any modeling sense of the word, just good, wholesome American boys, creamy-skinned, good-hearted and mischievous. Good boys who love each other like brothers and friends. "They really love each other a lot," dad winks, looking in from the kitchen, still on the phone. "Really love each other," he emphasizes. "If you know what I mean." And that's all it takes to bring your dick to full mast. Because now you know this night is going to be something special. And by the lusty tone in dad's voice, you have full clearance to proceed. And oh...oh! The final picture you see before duty calls. Liam and Landon are sitting at the little art table in their upstairs playroom. They're drawing something, coloring maybe. And Liam is fully dressed, shirt and shorts...but little Landon (your breath catches in your throat) is bare-ass naked, his cute little cheeks resting on one tucked-in-leg. You catch a hint of crack and a two-sided moonbeam staring you right in the face and you feel like you might need to stand up and start pacing just a little. You feel like you've had too much coffee all of a sudden when really you've had none. You suddenly feel light-headed, like some of the air just left the room. You have to turn the page, the sight of Landon's powdery-pale little ass crack and the promise of the smells and flavors that lie inside it arouses you so much you have to physically stop looking. "So, have fun," says dad, wrapping up his call and giving you another wink. "Just do what they like and do what they tell you. They're amazingly good at calling the shots. Follow their lead, and it's all good, healthy playtime as far as I'm concerned." You flip the book back to the inset photo on the cover, two fresh-faced boys, cherubic and kind, head and shoulders, standing together, arms flung casually around each other, smiling with the peaceful, confident togetherness that only brothers can share. They look so happy and natural together. They look like boys who really love each other. And tonight you're going to find out how far that love actually goes. Chapter 2. Meeting the Boys. Landon took to you instantly, in the way most boys often do. From the very beginning when the boys came home from school and soccer practice, you heard his brother call him "Landy," so that's what you've been calling him too. Liam and Landy seemed entirely unconcerned you stepped in to babysit. Their mom is gone and their dad has to make a living, so they've been used to being shepherded by strangers since a very young age. It's not uncommon for them to spend three days with a new babysitter while daddy hops a plane to the next last-minute conference that puts food on their table. They were shy and awkward for about zero seconds. Straight through the door, it was boy business as usual. Dad left, dinner was served – just some quick delivery from the local Pizza Hut – but Liam sure appreciated the fact that you let him have pineapple on his half. He likes pineapple, but his dad always says no. You like anything on a pizza that makes a little boy happy. Liam is 8 and cool, so he goes right to his Kindle after Dad leaves and he gets comfortable with your presence. He punches up Netflix and he's curled up on the couch, watching Ninjago episodes. He's also got his hands down his pants, fiddling with his little cocklet the whole time, a fact you do not miss, and one that makes you instantly appreciate his comfort in your presence. Landon is 6 and even more tactile. He takes your hand and leads you to the Lego table where the two of you spend the next 45 minutes building a Star Wars fighter from an amazingly thick but relatively easy instruction booklet. He scratches and fiddles with his little cocklet too, like his mind is just a little somewhere else. He scratches at his butthole, too. "It itches sometimes," he giggles. "Sometimes Daddy scratches it for me." "Oh, he does?" you say innocently. "Do you need me to scratch it for you, too?" "After Legos," he giggles. "I like it when it feels itchy." Your dick twitches at the enticing little promise. It's all you can think of as you continue to play. "My brother Brad is coming over to spend the night with us, guys," you say at one point, to mostly-unconcerned response. "Okay," say the boys, nearly in sync. "We can play with him, too," smiles Liam, looking up from his Kindle. "It'll be good to have two people to play with, right, Landy?" "Yeah," Landy giggles. "One for each." He smiles at me and comes up close and whispers in my ear, "I pick you." His little breath is hot and moist, and his tiny words make my cock leak. And Brad does show up about 10 minutes later, smiling at the door. A little wink as he sees the two sexy boys lost in their playtime, still clearly ripe in the well-worn soccer shorts they both wore home from school. Nobody's changed. Nobody's bathed. So whatever they have on underneath those shorts is still hot and fragrant, the blissful, acrid remains of the day. Brad settles in right away with Liam on the couch and Liam cuddles right into them. I told Brad what to expect when I called him, but he seems surprised anyway. We love our boys, but very rarely do we find two boys at once who take the lead. "Can you help me pee?" Landy says, halfway through constructing the final wing. "I need help getting my shorts down." Then, quieter, another whisper in your ear, "Plus my butt is still itchy." "Sure, sport," you say with a passing wink to Brad, who gives you a little thumbs up, stretching his arm around Liam on the couch as he does so. "That's what I'm here for. To give you all the help you need." You follow Landon upstairs to the hallway bathroom. He scratches his butt crack as he walks up the stairs. You can't help wondering what it smells like down there, that itchy little starfish of his, as he rubs his finger and jams the fabric of his underwear into that sticky, welcoming hole. You'll soon find out as you follow him into the bathroom and quietly close the door behind you. Everybody meet Landon. Chapter 3. Everybody Meet Landon. Landon stands in front of the bowl with his shorts completely off and his undies bunched down at the bottom of his ankles. They are Toy Story undies, with Buzz Lightyear in his space suit, muscle flexed, ready to blast off into infinity. But Buzz is the last thing you're looking at. First you notice the tiny little skid mark, a little streak of brown in the undie's otherwise white interior. Then you see a little yellow mark a little higher up. A few stray drops that didn't make it into the bowl after school, before he ran off to soccer practice. The too-quick pee shake of a busy little boy, and the sweet yellow and brown footprints of boyhood. They're two of your very favorite colors. You're also hit with that first enticing wisp of boy ass the second Landy pulls his underwear down. It's not shit, really. Shit has its own smell. No, this is the smell of boy ass, which is lighter, and sweeter, and different. The rich, fragrant, tangy-sweet smell comes puffing out at you, deep and rich, like opening a bag of salt and vinegar potato chips and having the air trapped inside released for your eager nose to inhale. Like sweet and sour sauce. Like sour apple cider. There's that momentary second where your eyes almost water, and then it dissipates into the air, becoming gently background to the room, fueling your lust. "First you have to help me pee," giggles Landy, and reaching behind himself, for you're already kneeling behind him on your knees, he grabs your hand and with no shyness at all, places your thumb and forefinger around his soft, two-inch little piss stick, asking you to hold it for him while he shoots his flow. You feel the welcoming heat of his tiny dicklet, and you can't help rolling it around in your fingers just a little, that soft, squidgy little sausage, barely as long as half of your forefinger. Landon giggles when you wiggle it, roll it and pinch it just gently. "Ready for my pee now?" he asks. "I'm ready," you assure him. You can actually feel the soft vibration of the urine flowing up through his little piss tube before it splashes out, forceful and yellow into the bowl in front of you. There is a buzzing feeling, a trembling of the ureter, and then there it is, a ferocious flow of uninhibited boy piss, squirting out from between your fingers, as you slowly turn his little dickie this way and that, aiming it playfully, splashing it around on either side of the bowl. He has a lot of pee, this little one. He must have been saving up for a long, long time. You bring your other hand around and put your finger into the flow, wetting yourself with Landy's hot stream of boy piss. You bring it up to your mouth and give yourself a taste. Salty, hot, perfect. Landy giggles. "You're not supposed to taste it," he says matter-of-factly, "You're supposed to rub it in my butt to stop the itch." "Oh, is that how it works?" you say. And quickly, before the flow stops, you bring your finger back up to his piss stream and you wet it down again. This time, as his stream finally dribbles to a stop, you slowly wiggle your finger between his sweet little ass cheeks, hoping to touch the tip of the rosebud between. "Am I getting it in?" you ask him. "Nuh-uh," he says. "I have to spread my legs s'more." And with that, he scoots you backwards a little so he can lean over the toilet, spreads his legs apart like scissors, and gives you better access to his most precious of treasure spots. He reaches around with his hand and spreads his cheeks apart, fully. "Can you see where the pee goes?" he giggles. "You're s'pose'ta put it right in the hole part." You moan as his sticky starfish comes into view. Perfect, tiny and pink, just slightly tinted with tan around the ring. Not dirty at all. Just rich, redolent, and eager for your fingering. You lean in and give it a close whiff. It smells like ass, like soft sticky stink, like the hard-playing, itchy-butt day of a six-year-old boy. "Daddy always touches it all the way to the inside," he says proudly, wiggling his own finger right into the middle of his tiny shit hole. It sinks in to the first knuckle and your cock is all but lurching in your pants, when you watch him do this. "And then he smells it like this," he said, bringing it up to his own button nose and giving it a good sniff. "Mmmmm," he says, mimicking his dad. "Smells real good, baby boy," he giggles. "That's how Daddy says it." "Smells real good, baby boy," you echo on autopilot, your dick drooling and your senses already in overload. "Sometimes you're s'pose'ta use some spit," he says, as if lubrication might not have occurred to you. "It lets you itch it in me really lots deeper." "Like this?" you ask him, wetting your index finger with a mouthful of saliva, pressing it pad first into his hot little anus, just touching the gateway at first, but then slowly, a centimeter at a time, adding pressure until your finger starts to slip inside the little boy's hot, sticky chamber. "Oh yeah," Landy whispers. "That's right where it goes. You're itching it real good now. That feels real good on the itch." You continue like that for a moment, slowly finger-fucking the boy up to your first knuckle, not really sure how long you should do it, or how much deeper you should go, but lucky you, just like his father predicted, Landon has no problem at all telling you what the rules are. "This is the part where you're s'pose'ta to take your thingie out," he says simply. "Daddy always gets his thingie out when he's itching my butt hole." "Oh," you say, very grateful. "I think that's a great idea. I'm going to do that right now." Taking your finger out of his ass, sad but temporary, you quickly unsnap your shorts, yank down the zipper and scoot your shorts and undies right off your body. You are now bare naked from the waist down, kneeling behind a little boy and his upturned ass, your dick at full mast, with a drop of silver pre-cum already glistening at the tip. Landy turns around to see what you've got. His eyes grow wide. "Yours is thicker than Daddy's," he says. "But Daddy's is longer." "Do you think we can still make it work?" you ask him breathlessly. "Yeah, it'll still work," Landy giggles. "It's a good one. That stuff on the top tastes good too." "This stuff?" you ask, swiping your finger across your cock hole, lifting the slimy strand of pre-cum and holding it up to Landy's little lips. Instantly, he wraps his mouth around your finger, eating the drop and swallowing with a happy smile. "Mmmm," he says. "Tastes like a salt shaker." He says it so innocently, so matter-of-factly, you almost want to cum right there. You know it isn't going to take you long at all. This little boy is getting you all kinds of hot. You can still smell his ass in the air as your eyes zero in on his prize and you get back to work. With your right hand and a little spit, you slowly start to stroke your own cock. With your left finger, you go back to his tight little rosebud, teasing the entrance again, before sliding it slowly into him. You're almost cumming already. The self control is immense as you stroke your cock and finger his asshole. You have to stop for a minute just so you won't shoot your jizz load too soon. You wish you could make this last longer, but you know you won't be able to. The sight, the smell, the gripping, hot feel of his little rectal chamber. It's all just too much. You'd do anything do delay the massive cum you know is only seconds away. "Can you wet this for me, Landy?" you say, pulling your ass finger out and bringing it up to his mouth, anything for a slight delay. He instantly begins to suck and slobber on it, which only makes you hotter. "That's right, baby, get it all full of spit. I'm going to put it back in your ass as soon as it's all wet, baby boy. I'm going to itch that pretty hole as far as I can. "Mmmmm," he mumbles with his mouth full of your finger. You twist it and turn it in his mouth. You feel his smooth tongue. You swirl it around his baby teeth. You push it in farther and he gags just a little, which makes him giggle. "Too far," he grins, but the words come out funny, with his mouth full of finger. "Oooh aahhr," it sounds like. You go back to stroking your hard cock, massively turned on by the fact that you just gagged a little boy with your fingertip as he sucks and licks his own little ass funk from the finger that was just lodged firmly up his ass. "That's good, baby," you whisper to him. "Can we put it back inside now?" "Uh-huh," he sighs innocently, and arches his back, turning his butt back up toward your face and hands, for maximum entry. You slide your finger back in his ass, and it opens up like a flower, taking it in even further, first to the first knuckle, then to the second, then before you know it, you're finger-fucking the little tyke with your entire index finger, going root deep, slowly in and out, the soft smell of boy ass filling the air, while he sighs contentedly and rotates a little in front of you, twirling his ass, sliding it deeper into himself. He pushes back against you, gyrating on it, scratching himself in ways only he can direct, grunting quietly and saying "mmmmm," over and over again as he satisfies an itch only he can understand. His little cocklet is rock hard while he does it, but he doesn't reach forward to touch it for a second. Apparently your big long finger deep-fucking his tiny hole is the only stimulation he needs right now. He's still leaning over the toilet seat, his hands spreading his ass cheeks wide apart, nearly hungry for your intrusion. His little anal muscles nip at your finger. Squeezing at it. Trying to pull it in deeper. "You itch me good," he whispers. "Keep itching me real good." "Oh, Landy baby," you whisper, your mind and dick on absolute overload. "I'm going to shoot my cream now. Can I shoot my cream on your itchy little hole?" "Mmmmm," he moans. "I like the itch cream. I like it a lot." And with those hot words, you go completely over the edge. Scooting yourself forward, your finger still deep in his bowels, you continue to stroke as you place the tip of your cockhead right at the entrance to the little boy's finger-plugged shit hole, and with a surge and a grunt, you're jizz fires off like rockets and you start painting his tiny, sticky hole with the eruptive force of three hot gobs of pearly, thick sauce. "Mmmph," you grunt wildly, jerky and gasping, massaging the cum out of your tingling dick, as you watch his hole and cheeks and every precious inch of his tiny backside coated and glistening in the glaze of your sticky hot tribute. None is inside him yet. Your dick wasn't in him, but with your fuck finger, you start fingering up your cum and feeding it into his asshole, a full finger at a time. "Oh yes," he moans softy as you push your cum into his ass. "I like to have the cream inside me." It starts running down his leg, threatening to drool onto Buzz Lightyear, but you catch it with your sticky, wet finger and you feed it deep into his rectum until none is left. You finger every drop of your hot cream into his itchy little hole. The little boy spread-eagled before you is now carrying a full load of your man jizz in his tiny little treasure. He is loaded with you. Filled to the brim. Your cum will be running out of his hole and down his pajama legs when he sleeps tonight. "That's good," Landy sighs. "That's the best cream ever. That makes the itch go away so good." You sit back and moan for a minute. You just can't help yourself. You stick your face forward to smell his open hole and your heart beats fast as the mingled smells of musky boy ass and bleachy man cum are too much to resist. You lap at the entrance and Landy giggles. And before you know it, you are at it again, grunting and rutting and feeding on his too-delicious boy ass. "Daddy does that too," Landy giggles. "He cleans me real good with his tongue after he gives me my itch cream." The boy sighs contentedly and leans back forcefully onto your lapping, happy tongue. Landon is a good boy, everybody. Everybody meet Landon. Chapter 4. Everybody Meet Liam. While you're upstairs nose deep in the musky crevice of Landy's recently-creamed crack, your brother Brad is downstairs making his moves on Landy's 9-year-old brother Liam. Or maybe "making his moves" is the wrong term to use, since that would imply the randy 9-year-old actually needed to be seduced in any way, when actually, he's a more than active, more than willing participant in Brad's lusty sex games. "You start by pulling my pants down," he tells Brad with full confidence, never losing eye contact with your brother, whose eyes, believe me, are about to pop out of their sockets at the pure sexual energy he's picking up from this adorable little moppet. "Daddy does it to us all the time," Liam says. "Don't worry. I'll show you how to do it." Brad is so hot, hearing the boy speak to him like he needs to be taught. Needs to be shown the ropes. Brad, who's been teaching boys the ways of sex for more years than the two of you remember is now apparently at the mercy of a little instructor who knows exactly how he likes to have things done. And the teacher becomes the student. Brad has moved from the couch to the floor. He's sitting with his back against the couch seat, his legs outstretched on the floor in front of him, and little Liam, long-legged and lean, is standing over him, straddling his legs, offering his little crotch, face-high to Brad's hungry gaze. "Pull my pants down," he says again. "You have to pull them down so you can suck my peeper." His soccer pants are dirty and a little stinky-sweaty as Brad grabs the elastic on either side and starts slowly lowering them down, his senses reeling as the aromas beneath are released into the air...that rich, earthy smell of soccer field and a boy who's played just a little too hard. Brad lowers Liam's shorts and undies at the same time, his own cock now rock hard and his heart skipping a beat as Liam's hairless little pubic mound comes into view. He pulls them down further and Liam's cock pops free like an eager little jack in the box, hard and pulsing, a little four-inch love rocket, slim and cut, begging for service. The boy is cut, and the little almond-purple mushroom head is shiny and angry, ready to find a new target. "Oh, Liam," Brad says in honest reverence. "That's a beautiful little peeper. I want to kiss it right now." And with that, Brad leans forward and kisses it just softly on the tip, letting his lips linger for just a minute, but savoring the moment, smelling the rich little cock smell, not wanting to give the boy everything he needs too fast. "Suck it," Liam says urgently, jutting his hips forward and jabbing his hard little missile between Brad's lips, trying to gain entrance. But Brad is firm. In more ways than one. "Oh, no," Brad teases. "Not so fast, Mister. First I get to tickle you." He grabs Liam around the naked waste and picks him up in a huge swoop as the little boy shrieks and squirms and tries to get away. He flips him around and tosses him on the couch, his fingers gently digging into his tummy and armpits to the sweet flowing sound of little boy giggles. He runs his mouth across Liam's tummy, blowing raspberries and making the boy giggle harder, liking his tummy, his little innie belly button, tasting the sweat of the little boy's day, salty and pure. Then he buries is nose in the musk of Liam's crotch and inhales deeply, every nerve of his body coming to life as he sucks in the smell of rich, heady, unwashed little boy. He smells a million things...salt and sweat, mud and pee, ginger, graham crackers, the million spicy, earthy, unidentifiably magic scents of a little boy in sex play. He can't get enough of this smell, and he lays there, breathing it in like a man in an oxygen mask, deeply, gratefully, he could do this all day. But Liam is having none of that. "Hey! Keep tickling me," he says to Brad, noticing the man has become too lost in his little boy scents and pheromones to remember the game. "Oh, it's more tickling you need, is it?" asks Brad as he redoubles his assault, tickling and snuffling the little boy's body as Liam shrieks and giggles and tries to squirm away. With strength that surprises both of them, Brad flips Liam over in one quick turn, so the boy is now tummy-down across the length of the couch, and Brad is instantly on him, lowering his face and prying his butt cheeks apart with strong, forceful fingers. "Oooh!" Liam giggles, surprised and happy. "You're gonna smell my stinky butthole!" "I'm gonna do more than that," Brad whispers hungrily, and lowers his nose for a sniff of Liam's ass crack. "Mmm, just like Daddy does!" Liam chirps as Brad's nose hits the open hole. He lays there in overload as his nostrils burrow into the sticky, sweaty flower of Liam's hot chamber. The scent is strong and tangy, and 100% boy. Brad twists his face, buries his nose, and when he pulls it away, the scent of Liam's boy ass clings to him, molecules in motion, hanging onto his grateful nose like a sweet sticky friend. "Oh baby," he whispers. "Let me eat that hot ass." Liam giggles, but not for long. Brad lowers his face and goes to town, tonguing and lapping at Liam's pulsing hole with all his might. The boy gasps in genuine surprise, his nerve endings twitching and on fire as the big man licks at the place only Daddy has licked before. He likes it a lot, having his hiney licked like this, and he shows his appreciation by pushing back and giggling and sighing with soft growling, giggling noises that make Brad eat him even harder. "My dickie is so hard," Liam whines between gasps. "Please suck my dickie now. I need my dickie sucked really bad." Brad lifts him off the floor. Stands him up. Grabs him by the ass, and scoots the boy's hard little cock toward his mouth. And this time there's no teasing. This time he opens his mouth and engulfs the boy's sexy little package...tip, shaft, balls and all. He sucks it all into his mouth in one go, and the boys legs instantly turn to rubber. Brad supports him by squeezing his tight little ass until the boy regains control. Then with an instinct only boys are made for, Liam instantly finds his natural rhythm and starts sliding his dick in and out of Brad's wet mouth, slowly at first, then faster and faster. Brad doesn't have to do a thing, just sits there cupping the boys ass, squeezing and kneading, keeping tight suction around the boy's thin cocklet, while Liam pumps into him, never missing a stroke. "Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah," Liam whispers greedily as he closes his eyes, throws his head back with a grateful groan, and babyfucks Brad's suctioning mouth for all he's worth. "Mmmmph," Brad mumbles, with a mouth full of boy cock. "So good, so good," he thinks to himself in perfect rhythm to the little boys jabs, but of course he can't say it because his mouth is so full of baby dick. He rubs his own hard cock through the fabric of his sweats. Can feel himself leaking like he's never leaded before. "Fuck that mouth," he thinks to himself. "Slide that little bone in as far as you can go." Liam is on fire, fucking and banging his face with all the energy he's got. He may not know much about him yet, but he knows this kid is one robust, happy face-fucker. Brad brings a finger up to his mouth, and without missing a beat, hold it under his drooling, numb mouth, and while the kid continues to face fuck him, he takes a wet finger, and in one firm, purposefuly steady, push, no fucking around, sticks it full-deep into Liam's pumping asshole. Liam groans as the finger intrudes its way in. He groans out loud but he never misses a stroke. Brad pushes and twists the finger in Liam's ass. Finding the little almond nub of his prostate, pushing and rubbing against that hungry little nut, which makes Liam pump and fuck like crazy. "Uh, uh, uh!" Liam grunts, matching is own rhythm. "My tingles are coming! My tingle are coming!" And he grabs Brad by the hair, and rams his little cocklet home as far as it can go, and he does indeed get his little baby tingles, mashing his hairless pubis up against Brad's face so hard for a minute the man thinks his nose might be broken, but still he doesn't miss a beat, just suctions him harder, hoping for that sweet, elusive drop of boy nectar that still isn't there, and won't be for a few more years. But what the boy lacks in liquid, he more than makes up for in earth-shattering enthusiasm, groaning, "uh, uh, uh!" with every twist and shaking thrust, twisting back against Brad's digging finger, then ramming forward into Brad's numb mouth, ramming and twisting, ramming and twisting, his massive dry-cum making his body shake and twitch all over as he finally slows down, earth calling Liam, still shaky and rubber-legged, breathing heavily in Brad's arms. And Brad, with his finger still buried root deep in Liam's nibbling, nipping, sucking heat chamber, is about thirty seconds away from getting his nut, too. And he wants it as deep inside this sexy boy as he can put it. "My turn, you hot little sex boy," he says quietly, and he flips Liam over, stretches him out on the floor, tummy down, bottom up, and in one graceful leap, straddles him with his dick pointed straight at Liam's backdoor, already leaking pre-cum, to which he adds a healthy gob of spit to see how far he can slide it home into Liam's ass, still wet and slippery from the tonguing he gave it earlier. "Don't go too far," Liam whispers, a little scared, but a little excited, too. "Daddy says we can't go too far in or it might hurt me." "Oh, I'll be really nice, baby," Brad whispers hungrily. He spreads Liam's hole with the thumb and forefinger of his left hand, and with his right, slides his dick into the crack, rubbing it up and down at first, taking long lengthy strokes like a painter with a brush in his hand. "It's all in the wrist, it's all in the wrist," he babbles ridiculously, incoherently mostly, as his pre-sauce lays thick shiny tracks up and down the boy's sweet sticky ass crack. "Mmmm," Liam coos, feeling the man's hard cock rubbing up and down his rosebud. Centering in on the tiny starfish, Brad starts jacking his cock and edging it forward. Jacking and edging, jacking and edging. He gives his cock a tiny push and then – Gasp! from Liam – as the tip pops in like a cork in reverse. The boy's sudden surprise and arched back add to the erotic sight of his dick head popping into the 9-year-old's burning hot furnace. "Oh baby," groans Brad as he leaves it there for just a second, letting the boy get used to it. "Is it okay? Does it feel okay in there?" "Feels big," the boy whispers in quiet admiration. "Like a poopie coming out. A really big one." "Good boy," Brad says, pushing forward just a little bit more. "Good, brave boy." Liam coos at the compliment and relaxes his sphincter. Brad's cock edges forward, then back, forward then back, not pushing hard, just gently, a centimeter more at a time, until finally, he stops with about half the length of his 6-inch dick inside the boy. He longs to ram it home, but that's a game for a different day and maybe a bigger boy. This 9-year-old is just fine with half of his dick, and that's all he needs to bring himself home. "Are you okay?" he asks the boy, and Liam grunts a little and whispers back. "Thicker than Daddy," he grunts. "Really good, but thicker." He pushes back experimentally. Sighs a little. Makes a little "mmmmm" sound under his breath, and Brad knows it's okay to go again. With that, Brad continues to slow stroke the boy, half in his ass and half in his hand, closing his eyes and savoring the hot, gripping furnace of the boy's pulsing ass tube. With each in stroke, he feels the boy loosen, a soft flowing feeling, warm and squidgy, as he pushes in, three inches deep. And when he pulls it back out, the ring contracts, pinching his cockhead, not letting go. He feels the boy's heartbeat in every piston pull. In and out, relax, contract. The boy starts working with him, gyrating a little, pushing back against him, being a big boy, helping him out, wanting to bring him to the inevitable climax just seconds away. "Beautiful boy," Brad whispers. "Such a beautiful, good boy. Not much longer, baby. Gonna fill you with my cum now." The boy hears the word "cum" and clenches tight with his ass muscles. Squeezing in rhythmic time to Brad's gentle, but increasingly urgent strokes. "Good boy," Brad groans. "Good boy. Brave boy...unnnnghhh...!" And with that, everything explodes. Brad's dick lurches forward and every muscle in his body goes tense, every molecule in his body lights up, every firework color in the spectrum bursts in front of his eyes. His hips just forward and freeze as he pushes his dick in as far as he dares, still no more than half its length, but enough to unload a torrent of hot sticky man jizz into the shuddering boy below. "So good, so good," he gasps as he fills him up. "Such a tight fucking asshole. So good, so good, so good." The boy continues to nibble at his cock with his contracting anal muscles. "Mmmmmm," he coos. "That feels really good inside me. You got your tingles really hard in me." Brad can't speak for a minute. Just lays there immobilized in the sweet, sticky peacefulness of the moment. "They were good, right?" Liam asks him quietly. "I made your tingles come out good for you, right?" "Oh, baby," Brad says reassuringly. "You did so good, baby boy. You gave me the best tingles ever." "Good," chirps Liam happily. "You gave me really good tingles too." And with that, he worms his way out from under Brad, whose dick pops out of him with a satisfied plop, and like nothing unusual happened at all, he hops back on the couch, grabs his Kindle, and is almost instantly lost again in the remarkable, unconcerned agenda of boyhood. He sits on his bottom with his knees folded up, and even from five feet away, Brad can see the frothy ooze of his own hot semen dripping out of the boy's loose hole. Liam absentmindedly scoops some out of his hole with a finger, and rubs it into his leg like lotion. He's too far lost in his video game to even realize he's doing it. Brad moans quietly to himself as he watches the boy finger the cum out of his ass and rub it on himself. He gives his dick a satisfied squeeze, along the length, now pulsing and red from the too-tight confines of Liam's tight tunnel. He squeezes the stickiness, brings it to his nose and lips. Smells the earth rich scent of boy sex, and loves it even more knowing he's tasting straight from his own satiated dick, exhausted and satisfied from the little boy's love box. Liam giggles when he sees him do it. "You're weird," he says. "You like tasting butts a lot." And indeed Brad does. And Liam's won't be the last one. "My favorite flavor," he says to the boy, who smiles, rolls his eyes a little, and goes back to playing his video game. Liam's a good boy, everybody. Everybody meet Liam. Chapter 5. You Look at Pictures...Again. It started with pictures and it ends with pictures, too. You come downstairs with Landy. He's happy and satisfied with your cum still swimming inside him. After you fed him your man cream, a finger at a time while Brad was fucking Liam, you turned him around and slowly sucked him to a shaking, happy kiddie cum, and he really liked that part. "I got good tingles," he beams proudly to his older brother, and Liam smiles back. "Me too," says Liam. "Really good ones this time." You smile at Brad. A wink. A thumbs-up. You both did good, and you take out your cameras. Snips and snails and puppy dog tails. Licks and snips and video clips. That's what little boys are made of. There's a picture of Liam and Landon, pants off, naked on the couch, playing their video games, smiling for your cameras. There's a picture of Liam on the floor, while Landon straddles over the top of him trying to fit his brother's hard big boy peeper into his little boy bottom. That's Brad's hand in the picture, helping to guide it home. There are a lot of pictures of that scene. A lot of pictures. There's a picture of Landy kneeling over Brad's face, being silly, putting his little dickie head right in Brad's nose. He was laughing when you took that one. Then he peed a little and he laughed a little more. And there's a picture of Liam, kneeling in back of his little brother whose ass is arched in the air, tasting that little hole with his tongue, finding out why the grown-ups like to lick buttholes so much. Liam looks happy in this picture. And you can't see Landon's face because it's out of range of the camera, but if you could, you'd see he looks absolutely ecstatic. The love of a brother is the world's greatest gift. And sometimes that love comes in even better ways...on even better days. There's a lot to picture when we see these two boys. And two more nights of babysitting to make sure we capture the memories. Take out your cameras everybody. Save some pages in your photo albums. Liam and Landon are good boys, everybody. Everybody meet Liam. Everybody meet Landon. I wonder who we're going to meet next. # # # THE END # # # Love, Zachyboy z.blake@mail.com