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