SMELL THIS
By Zachyboy, Brad & Mark
M/b, oral, anal, sniffing, buttplay

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A series of 49 very dirty vignettes.
All fantasy. All fiction.
Please respect and honor the real boys in your life.
Keep your hands and noses to yourself at all times.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

1. NEEDY: BLADE
2. INSTRUCTIONS: COLIN & CAMMY
3. DIRTY: VASEK
4. PERFECT: OWEN
5. GORGEOUS: GAVIN
6. STATUE: JAYSEN
7. LUCKY: COLE
8. FLOOR: JAX
9. PAINTER: PETER
10. SOCCER: DREW
11. SKATEPARK: NICKY
12. HOMEWORK: SQUIGGY
13. BEGINNINGS: DAVID
14. PRIVILEGED: COOPER
15. EVOLVING: COOPER, CONTINUED
16. WIDER: WYATT
17. TRANSFORMATION: SAMMY
18. THEATRICAL: HARRISON
19. CHRISTMAS: JOSH & JOEY
20. CAUGHT: BRADEN
21. MAVERICK: KELLY
22. GYMNAST: JIMMY
23. SUPER: CHRIS
24. INNOCENCE: NATE
25. BEDWETTER: DREW
26. SMARTASS: SCHWARTZ
27. MEMORIES: JAMES
28. HAMPER: ZEKE, OLIVER & MARCO
29. CLICK: AARON
30. FORGETFUL: JACK ALLEN
31. RECIPE: JACK ALLEN, CONTINUED
32. WINNER: JOEY
33. BEACH: JACKSON R.
34. ROADTRIP: MAX
35. SCARECROW: CARTER
36. DOGGIE: JACKSON B.
37. STUDENT: AUSTIN
38. REFERRAL: JASON
39. ANYTHING: TREY
40. FISHING: JURA
41. BATHROBE: JOEL
42. LONELY: LEO
43. SQUIRT: LUKE
44. FUCKED: LEO (CONTINUED)
45. ROSES: MARTIN
46. GATEWAY: SHAWN
47. CAVERN: SHAWN (CONTINUED)
48. ANYTHING: JACKSON
49. MATERNAL: VINNY

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1. NEEDY: BLADE

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Everybody meet Blade.

His name is really Blake, but his friends call him Blade.

In Kindergarten, he got his "k"s and his "d"s mixed up, and he wrote his
name "Blade." And it stuck.

So now he's just Blade.

He's 12 now, and he really likes butt sex. And the stinkier the better.

You saw Blade for the first time at your nephew Parker's track
competition. Parker's 12 too.

You've sniffed him, too, but that's another story.

Let's bookmark that one and call it a potential spin-off.

What you do know about Blade:

He wears this same pair of shorts at every competition. You're fascinated
by those shorts and how they cling to his ass. You pray that they're
dirty. You pray that he doesn't put them in the hamper like a good boy
every night. You pray that those undies are as dirty as you imagine. You
pray that those undies are clinging to his ass crack, full of so much
stinky boy grease, getting your nose in there would be the Ave Maria of
ass-sniffs.

What you'd like to do to Blade:

Fuck, man. What do you think?

Fuck, that 12-year-old ass is so perfect. Fuck, those cheeks are so bubbly.

That crack is so boylike. So pretty-little boylike.

Your face would dwarf it.

You'd spread those creamy cheeks apart and your nose would seem huge in
comparison to his ass button. That sticky little anus. That tiny little
stink hole. Twinkle-twinkle stinky-star.

How you'd love to gulp down his aroma.

What you don't know about Blade:

He's been ass-sniffed already. He's been ass-sniffed and licked clean every
night by his very own dad.

His dad waits for him to fall alseep, then slips into his room at night,
and pulls back the covers, and pulls down Blade's pj pants, and pulls down
the stinky-skid-mark undies, and spreads those cheeks, and sniffs the
ambrosia of sweet-stinky Blade-ass, and moans and strokes his own big
dadcock, and nostril-fucks his son like a man sucking oxygen.

And then when he just can't stand it, just can't take anymore, he licks up
the center, licks up the bitter-bile ass grease of the stinky-sour ass
crack he created with his own sperm 12 years ago. He licks up the shit
crack he sired with his own penis. And he shoots his hot cum on the carpet
below.

He rubs it in. He pulls up Blade's pants. Pulls up his pj's. Pulls up the
covers.

Kisses his sleeping son, always surprised that he never wakes up. Pleased
and surprised that he never even stirs.

He could do this forever. This secret midnight sex tryst. And no one's the
wiser.

Except Blade, of course.

Because as soon as Daddy's done revisiting his night-ass, Blade rolls over
and takes his rock hard babyspike in his hand, and strokes himself to a
heavenly shiver, remembering Daddy's secret tongue up his tight little
tingler.

He thinks of Daddy's tongue, and he understands it's a secret, so he waits
until Daddy leaves the room to get his own wet, stinky shivers.

It's only polite, and Blade is a good boy.

He smells his ass after Daddy cums on the carpet. He fingers his butthole
and smells his own ass while he masturbates.

And he likes it.

He likes it a lot.

What you don't know about Blade and your own nephew Parker:

They've been fucking since the two of them were 10-years-old.

Sweet fumbling boy grunts.

More slip-outs than target-locks.

But they sure give it their all.

Now they're getting pretty good at it.

Now they take turns.

Sometimes Blade's is a little bit poopy when he takes it out of Parker,
because Parker doesn't wipe.

But Blade's got a clean ass.

When Parker takes it out of him, it shines like the silvery moon.

Clean as a whistle.

But whistles still stink.

They delight in the smell of each other's shit-scented boy dicks.

They smell them a lot when they're done.

They smell them a lot and they giggle.

What Blade will let you do to him when he turns 15-years-old:

Fuck him, fill him as hard as you want.

He's done pretending he's asleep for anybody.

Now he wants fucking.

Now he wants cum in his ass.

You can do it clean, or you can do it dirty.

You can smell him, you can lick him, you can finger him, you can taste him.

As long as you cum in him when you're done with your checklist.

Do all you want. Satisfy your man-needs.

But Blade needs cum.

Like vampire hunger sucking it out of your cock shaft, Blade's sticky-sweet
ass is as stinky as you want it, as clean as you want it, or as dirty as
you want it.

Lick it with love, or smear it with boy shit.

Blade needs semen, and Blade needs you.

Blade's a good boy, everybody.

Everybody meet Blade.

I wonder who we're going to meet next.


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2. INSTRUCTIONS: COLIN & CAMMY

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COLIN (the older brother, 13): Now listen, pay attention. When he gets here
and you go upstairs with him, he likes to smell your butthole first before
he does anything to you.

CAMMY (the younger brother, 9): He's gonna smell my BUTTHOLE???

COLIN: Yep. That's the first thing he always-ever does.

CAMMY: MY BUTTHOLE?? ((giggles)) That's gross!!! WHY???

COLIN (giggles): He says it smells like "boy heaven," whatever that means.

CAMMY: And he did that to YOU????

COLIN: He ALWAYS does that to me. 100% of the time. EVERY single time!

CAMMY: And he told you he wants to sniff MINE??

COLIN: Yep. He asked for yours too. He BEGGED. He said he would pay
EXTRA. And buy us whatever we want.

CAMMY: BUT IT'S MY BUTTHOLE!!!!

COLIN (giggles): I know. So weird, right? He's really weird.

CAMMY: But that's where my poop comes out!!

COLIN: Yep.

CAMMY: What if it's still stinky down there?

COLIN: Oh, he's gonna LIKE IT if it's stinky. Stinky just makes him make
noises in his throat. Like he's crying almost. Like puppy noises.

CAMMY (whispers): Wow.

COLIN: Yep. He likes stinky A LOT.

(Little Cammy reaches behind himself, puts a hand down his shorts and
fingers his crinkly anus. Pokes a fingertip inside and brings it back
out. Sniffs it. Holds it up to Colin's nose for a sniff, too).

CAMMY: Does my butt stink enough?

COLIN (inhaling): Oh yeah. He's gonna like that A LOT. That's REALLY
STINKY. His thing's gonna get REALLY hard when he smells that.

CAMMY: So I just stay there on my hands and knees and he smells me?

COLIN: Yep. Sometimes for a long, long time.

CAMMY: And then what?

COLIN: Then sometimes he jacks off his thing and sprays his juice on your
butt crack.

CAMMY (giggles): Ewwww....

COLIN: And sometimes he tries to put the tip inside your butt.

CAMMY: Ow....

COLIN: Yeah, I know. That part always suprises you a little, but believe
me, his juice comes out REALLY fast if he gets it in your butt. That makes
his juice come out SUPER fast.

CAMMY: Okay.

COLIN: And sometimes he likes you to turn around so he can shoot his juice
on your tummy or in your mouth.

CAMMY: EWWWW! NO WAY he's putting his juice in MY mouth!

COLIN: Do it, dumb shit! He pays extra when he does it in your mouth or in
your butt.

CAMMY: But do I have to eat it?

COLIN: No, just spit it out.

CAMMY: Ewwww.

COLIN: Once I spit it out in my hand and rubbed my cock up and down with it
and he moaned so much I thought he was going to pass out.

CAMMY: Wow.

COLIN: And then he bought me a new X-Box game.

CAMMY: Wow.

COLIN: So just do whatever he wants. The part where he smells you takes a
long time, but the rest is over really, really fast.

CAMMY: Okay.

COLIN: The butt-smelling makes him get his juice REALLY fast.

CAMMY: Okay.

COLIN: And if you think he's weird when he's doing it, just keep thinking
"X-Box, X-Box," that's what I do...and then before you know it...BAM, he
gets his juice, and then he's all done.

CAMMY: Wow.

COLIN: Easy.

CAMMY (shrugs): You sure my butt stinks good enough?

COLIN: Yep. You're gonna do fine. Now quiet. Here he comes.

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3. DIRTY: VASEK

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Everybody meet Vasek.

This is Vasek. And everything about Vasek is going to be dirty.

His shirt is dirty, and it's already and around his neck, which is dirty
too. Sweet little rivulets of salty boy sweat dried into dirt brown crinkle
tracks you'll notice as you mount his stinky rectum doggie style and nibble
on the back of his hairline, right under his ear.

His jeans are dirty. You'll have those off him in a heartbeat though, and
tossed aside in a reckless pile at the bottom of his bed on your way to
what you're really after.

His underwear are dirty. When you peel them off, the hot musk of horny boy
funk is going to hit your nostrils like a fuckable missile assualt. You'll
smell that ass long before you fuck it, for a long long time. It's good.

The ass you'll fuck, but those underwear, oh yeah. Those are going home in
a Ziplock bag where they'll be re-enjoyed thoroughly...the back part, where
his ass left a natural scent overload of natural Slavik grease tracks, and
the front part where you wiped your boy-funk sticky cock off after you came
in him.

And his ass. Oh that ass. It's dirty in the finest way. No poop. No
brown. Just the funky raw vinegar smell of unwashed boy, ready to be
nose-fucked and globe-spread till you've had your fill, till your body is
shaking and convulsing on the verge of explosion, gulping down fresh
lungfuls of Vasek's sweetstinky boypussy like it's the last thing on earth
left to breathe.

He's puzzled and silent why you'd spend so much time nose-nursing at his
greasy backdoor. He knows it stinks. He can smell it himself. And why
anybody'd want their nose in it, especially as long as you've been there,
is utterly perplexing to him. But it doesn't hurt, so all the better for
him. He's perfectly content to let you gulp down your fill. Dumbly
perplexed, but pleased and content.

And after awhile, your nose in his shit chute starts making him hard. You
sniff and you sniff, and eventually, the nerve endings on his anus start
overpowering his brain's ridiculous attempt to try to find logic in it, and
tingly and hardening, he starts pushing back against you.

Pushing his crinklestink into your nose. Starting to breathe faster a
little. And when you start licking that greasy little shitbox with your
tongue, then he really does start to push back. That part makes him
moan. That part gets him whimpering. Stinky little ass puppy, sweet and
sour and whimpering under your poking butt tongue.

Everything about Vasek is going to be dirty. The way his stinky ass feels
greasy and a little bit gritty as you slide your cock into it's
virgin-tight slot tube.

The way he swears a little in Russian while you're bottoming out in his
colon.

The way he grabs the dirty sheets and blankets on his bed where he's never
been fucked before.

And the way you put a finger in his mouth to shush him, and he bites down
on it as you shove your cock in as far as it goes to unload your jizz in
the stinky hot depths of his muscle-sucking boy cunt.

Everything about Vasek is dirty. Hot and secret and fuckably dirty.

If you want some boystink, there he is.

If you want a clean boy, you'll have to move on. Because it's not Vasek,
everybody. Believe me, it won't be him.

Vasek is a good boy, everybody. Eleven and horny.

Meet fulfillment, everybody.

Everybody meet Vasek.

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4. PERFECT: OWEN

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Just look at him everybody.

Everybody meet Owen.

His age? Perfect, perfect, perfect. Old enough to know what his pee-pee is
for. Not old enough to be commonly using it yet. Each new touch is still a
treat. Each beautiful word out of his treble voice is a soft, sweet
song. Sexually, sensually and just at the age between innocence and
knowingness, this is the magic age. The age of becoming. The perfect,
breathtakingly pretty age you wish they'd never grow out of.

His physique? Ribs and shoulders, perfect, pronounced. Neck bones, tendons,
all sinew and boy curves. Little bitty boy muscles. Can you imagine
watching those budding biceps tense-up all skinny and bumpy as he lays on
his back at night, in bed, jacking off? To see those little boy biceps in
moonlight or nightlight as he tenses the right one to jack his little love
stick?

His milky-white skin tone? Creamy, so perfect. His pec color is lickable. I
want my tongue in his belly button. I want to lick his own first little cum
drops out of his belly button. Sweet nectar. I want to lick his armpits and
lick there too. Look at the tiny little mole on the right side, between
nipple and armpit. Tiny little dot. Like Henry to Alais in "The Lion in
Winter" where he tenderly touches her hair and says, "Let's have one little
strand askew. Nothing in life has any business being perfect." One little
dot to lick on and suck.

His tightened-up, hard nipples?  Mmm, bonus. Fuck. I can't even think of
putting one or both of those nipples in my mouth without weeping. Sucking
on them gently as I finger his stinky bottom hole. Then bring my finger up
to my nose for a long sniff as I continue to tease them with my tongue and
teeth. "Smell your butt, baby," I'd whisper to him as I bring my finger up
to his nose. "Smell your pretty, stinky butthole."

His defined chin and jaw-line? So proud. So regal. Like royalty. Like a
prince. "Commoner, come here and smell my butt, boy. Down on your knees and
give my cocklet your peasant worship." He would command me.

His beautiful lil boy nose? Upturned perfect porcelain sculpture. This boy
should be white marble, naked in an art museum. People would come around a
gallery corner unprepared and gasp at his beauty. A Roman statue. A Greek
urn. A naked angel on a chapel ceiling. Proud beautiful boy with your
upturned nose. Not haughty. Just so proud and assured and beautiful. No
ego. Just confidence in his place in the world. My heart bursts with
happiness for him for that.

His soft, pink lips? To kiss them. To watch him tentatively lower them over
my cock head. Just latching them lightly over the tip. No need to go
deep. Just those lips would be all I need. I would feed him such a sweet
load and share it with him when we were done. Kiss it out of his
mouth. Lick his lips clean while I held him close to me.

His eyes?  His eyebrows? Look at the upturned swirl of that eyebrow. There
are no words. Perfection. Beyond perfection.

His sweaty boy hair? Salty, perfect, lickable heaven. I would actually lick
his forehead. Suck it from his hairline. My finger pressing itself into his
stinky bum as I licked his salty sweat. I want to finger and smell his
stinky bottom as I swallow his salty boy sweat.

Ohhhgawsh, I bet his little stinky bottom smells incredible. *sigh*

I could spend hours. I could literally spend hours, just rubbing my nose
into his tiny little boyanus until there was nothing left to sniff. Oh, God
in Heaven, to be given that chance. I wouldn't even lick away any of the
molecules with my tongue. Just do nothing but sniff until there was
literally nothing left to sniff. Until the scent of him had just completely
rubbed in to the fabric of my skin and his smell had become a part of me.

I fell in love with Owen today.

I fell in love with Owen's beauty and the thought of smelling his
stinky-sweet bottom.

Owen's a good boy, everybody.

Everybody meet Owen.

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5. GORGEOUS: GAVIN

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Everybody meet Gavin.

10-year-old Gavin is revered by everyone in his neighborhood. Parents of
other kids think he's cute...and kind...and sweet.

Girls in the neighborhood around his age think he's cute too. Some have
innocent lil crushes on him Some slightly older girls think he's more
"gorgeous" than cute. Some think he's hot...especially Kelsey.

13-year-old Kelsey and her friends talk about Gavin a lot. A whole
lot. They share a crush on him and innocently talk about what it will be
like when they marry him one day.

Only Kelsey's crush is a little more secretive...and mature.

None of her friends know, but Kelsey masturbates using a small carrot. But
to her it's no carrot. In her mind, it's Gavin and specifically, Gavin's
boned-up little boy-cock.

She always chooses one around the size of a roll of nickels, because that's
how big she imagines Gavin's cock to be.

Kelsey feels bad for masturbating over a 10-year-old boy but she is in awe
of him.

Everyone at Gavin's school got excited when they saw him in the pizza
commercial.

"I know him" they would tell people.

When it got posted to YouTube, the comments ranged from "He's so cute" and
"I want to be his boyfriend one day" to "I'd love to pull his pants down
and suck his dick for him."

Gavin is considered to be the cutest, kindest, cleanest, sweetest example
of a 10-year-old boy there is.

In person, his character stop hearts and when he's in print rather than in
person, his eyes do.

But it makes you smile when you think of all the attention he gets for
being "cute" and the "perfect example of a cute, clean, innocent little
boy," because you're closer to him than most. You know him. You know his
mom.

His mom is a pretty nice woman, but to be honest, you have nothing in
common with her except for one thing. You both love Gavin.

Gavin having such "star" status in the neighborhood makes him even more
appealing to you. It makes him "untouchable" to most.  You should see what
some of those little girls say on YouTube posts. Things like, "I would give
anything just to meet him once" and "I am going to ask my parents if we can
move to where he lives so I can go to the same school as him."

You got so lucky didn't you?

Because not only are you in his inner circle...the perimeter of which is
lined up with screaming, adoring girls...but you're inside his
house. Regularly.

Being inside his house, puts you in a position to be inside his bedroom.

Regularly.

And being inside his bedroom puts you in a position to be inside his
underpants.

Regularly.

And man, if only those adoring fans knew what you know.

You wonder how many of those little girls would still have an obsessive
crush on him if they knew what his underpants smell like...

You wonder if that one girl would still ask her parents if they can move to
where he lives if she knew how stinky Gavin's bottomhole gets...

You wonder if the other girl who dreams of meeting him just once would
still feel the same if she knew that Gavin's little underpants get stained
with his ripe, spicy, musky, dank little anus...

It makes you smile to read all the comments on YouTube and to read his
Facebook timeline. All those lil girls drooling over Gavin and how cute he
is...but none of them know what his little ass smells like.

But you do.

Kelsey adores him. She really does make herself believe the carrot she uses
is Gavin's cock while she masturbates. But as she thinks about him, she has
no idea that he gets suck a stinky, sticky asshole.

But you do.

Nobody would believe it. In fact, when you see him, you're almost bought
into the dreaminess of him just like his lil fans.

Sometimes you're caught up in it, too. His cuteness...believing some part
of him is superhuman.

When you look at him in this photo you took, you're almost fooled by the
superficial aura that surrounds him - his boygod status. His alleged
perfection.

But then you remember.

The smell of his underpants.

Specifically, the smell of his bumhole.

And it can be sooooo stinky.

And that's why you adore Gavin.

Gavin's a good boy, everybody.

Everybody meet Gavin.

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6. STATUE: JAYSEN

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Stand still, Jaysen.

Don't move.

I'm just going to kneel down behind you and sniff your stinky bottom hole.

Sniff your pretty poopy hole.

It's okay, baby. Don't be scared.

I'm not going to lick it.

I'm not going to finger it.

I'm not going to hurt you and put my penis in it.

I just want to kneel down here and gently smell it through your undie
crack.

You don't even have to move.

I want your undies just like they are.

Creased up into your sticky, stinky crack.

Oh, fuck, baby boy. You smell so good inside.

Your stinky, dirty little boy stink smells so precious and good.

My cock is getting super hard.

No, don't look. Just stay like you are.

But I'm taking my cock in my hand and I'm jacking it up and down while I
sniff your stinky boy crack.

Oh, that's it baby. Push back against my nose a little.

Oh fuck yeah, baby. That's it. Let me smell that little stink hole.

Let me smell that undie crack.

I'm just going to pull those undies down now, okay baby?

That's it. Don't move.

Just gonna pull those down.

Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck.

Look at that little skid mark that sticks to the inside when I pull them
down.

I'm gonna take that home with me and sniff it and lick it later.

But right now, oh sweet baby, look at your creamy cheeks.

So pretty. So perfect.

I'm going to spread them apart now with my fingers, okay?

Oh baby. Oh sweet boy.

Look at your stinky butthole.

Look at your pretty tan starfish.

All moist and tacky with boy stink.

Little greasy boysmears. Tan and pretty.

You didn't wipe good enough last time, did you, baby?

That's okay. Shhh, It's okay baby.

Don't be embarrassed.

I like stinky. I like greasy boy sticky.

Did you make stinky-sticky for me baby?

Did you make your little bottom sticky for me?

Oh, baby. I'm going to put my nose right up against it, okay?

Rub your stinky-sticky right up on my nose.

Oh baby. So sweet. So stinky beautiful boy-shiny.

No baby, don't be scared.

I'm not going to fuck you.

I'm not going to put it in you and hurt you or cum in your bottom.

I'm just going to kneel here and smell you.

And smell you and smell you and smell you.

And jack my cocky up and down.

And smell your stinky little boy ass-sticky.

Oh baby. You made stinky pants so good for me baby.

I just want to smell your stinky butthole for hours.

Hours, baby.

Shhh, that's it. Don't move.

Stand still.

Don't look back.

Don't turn around.

That's it, baby.

I feel you pushing back now.

I feel you liking it.

I hear your little puppy sounds.

I see your little dickie is hard.

I see you feeling happy today as I smell your stinky bottomhole.

Jaysen is a good boy, everybody. Everybody meet Jaysen.

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7. LUCKY: COLE

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What a lucky little stinker. Meet Cole, everbody.

Everybody meet Cole.

What a little stinker he is, and gawssh, did you get lucky in so many many
ways.

First off, you got lucky that the boy who you pay to sniff his underpants
after school (Daniel) told Cole about it.

Then you got lucky Cole didn't get freaked out and tell anyone.

Then you got lucky Cole desperately wanted Call of Duty Advance Warfare for
his Xbox 360.

Then you got lucky Cole's friends already had the game but he didn't,
making him even more desperate.

Then you got lucky Cole's parents wouldn't buy him the game until his
grades came up.

Then you got lucky that's never gonna happen. (Cole isn't the brightest
bulb in the strip).

Then you got lucky Cole is just too naive to understand the sexual
significance of selling his underpants to you.

The weirdest thing about it to Cole is that someone would pay $60 for a
pair of his undies that he knew cost no more than $5 from Walmart. He's
completely naïve. It's just a onfusing question of economics to him.

And all he has to do is keep it a secret.

And you got lucky Cole is fucking great at keeping secrets. It's a skill he
has honed to perfection to save him from constant groundings.

And now he's over at your house. Standing in your garage. Waiting on your
promise.

Daniel told him all he has to do is sell you his underpants.

But Daniel's not quite as courageous as Cole. Or as inquisitive.

Standing there in the garage, looking at you, Cole is keen to understand
the fascination a bit better.

"So, you will pay me sixty bucks if I take my underpants off and give them
to you?"

"Yes, I will. Just like I do with Daniel. Is that okay?"

"I guess."

"You guess?"

"Well...what do you want them for?"

"I'm going to sniff them."

"SNIFF them? Ewwwwww!"

"Eww to you Cole, Ohhhh to me."

Cole looks confused.

"I love the smell of boys' bottoms."

"You mean my BUTT?"

"Yeah. Your butt."

"That's gross!"

"Why is it?"

"Because it's just...((Cole thinks for a minute about this))...dirty!"

"Ohh, Cole, I hope so. Are you telling me you've got a dirty bottom right
now?"

((Shrugging his shoulders and giggling off his moderate embarrassment))
"Well, I dunno."

"Why don't you touch it and find out?"

"Ewww...no way!"

"It's because you've got a dirty bottom isn't it?"

"No...no, it's just...I don't wanna touch it."

"Why not?"

"Because."

"Have you never touched it before?"

"Well....erm....yeah...but...."

"Well then, what's the difference now?"

Cole looks around as if the right words might appear in the garage
somewhere.  But they don't.

"Look Cole, how about this. How about you touch it and I sniff your
finger?"

Cole thinks.

"You mean, I touch my butthole and then let you sniff my finger?"

"Yeah."

Cole thinks for a moment longer.  And then...

"Seventy."

"Seventy what?"

"Seventy bucks. If I give you my underpants AND let your sniff my finger, I
want seventy bucks."

"Well...I dunno, Cole. That's a 15% upcharge."

((Showing his lack of negotiating skills)): "Okay, sixty-five."

"No, no, it's not the money, Cole."

"What is it?"

"I just want to know that your butthole is worth smelling.  I mean, if it's
not dirty, what's the point?"

"I'll rub it around my butthole a lot. Like round and round."

((Laughing)): "If you're gonna do that, Cole, you may as well just let me
sniff your butthole for real."

"Ewww."

((There is a lingering moment and Cole looks thoughtful))....

"Would you do that?"

"What, sniff your butthole for real?"

"Yeah, would you do that?"

"If you'd let me, yeah."

"Will you tell anyone?"

"Not if you don't."

Cole looks around again...nervously and then looks back at you and nods.

"Okay.  But I want seventy."

"Okay...but it'd better be stinky."

"Trust me," says Cole. "It is."

Cole is a good boy, everybody.

Everybody meet Cole.

I wonder who we're going to meet next.

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8. FLOOR: JAX

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"Hey, Mickey Mouse. Whatcha watching on TV?"

"Beyblade."

"Cool. I'm just gonna come up behind you while you watch it and smell your
booty a little, okay?"

"Kay. Want me to move it up in the air and stick it out more?"

"Nah. You're good. Just lay like that on your tummy. I'll come down to
you."

He wiggles a little, waiting. You put your face down on his butt, your nose
right between his cheeks. And fuck. The stink-hot puff of boy beaver wafts
up so powerfully sweet and sour you almost weep.

He giggles.

"Why you always smell my booty like that?"

"Because I like the way your booty smells. It smells stinky and sweet."

"You nasty. You funny."

"And you," you say, taking another long hit, "have the sexiest, stinkiest
sweet booty I have ever, ever smelled. I wanna marry your pretty booty. I
wanna marry it and make babies with it, what do you think of that, Jax?"

He giggles.

"I think you nasty."

You get your face down in there and you smell him good while he watches his
show. You take hit after hit of that sweet, stinky grease crack. Fuck, he's
fragrant.

"Some day I'm gonna put my cock up there, Jax. What do you think of that?"

He giggles.

"Seriously," you tell him. "When you're a little bit older? Little bit
bigger? My cock can go right up inside there."

"Nuh-uh," he laughs. "That's dumb."

You feel his butt cheeks clench together, like he's already considered
it. Already squeezing tight to keep you out, five years in the future.

"I'm just gonna put my finger up inside you now, okay, Jax?"

You already wet it in your mouth and it's headed his way.

"Nuh-uh," he says, and you feel him clench again. "Not up my hole. No way."

"Okay, okay," you say, shrugging your shoulders, worth a try. "I won't put
it in, I'll just rub it around the outside a little. Okay, Jax? Just a
little on the outside to get it all sticky and smelly?"

"Why you like that so much?" he asks.

"Because it's stinky and it smells good and it smells like you and I like
it."

"You weird," he giggles. "But you still give me ten dollars, right?"

"Absolutely," I tell him. "Two fives or ten ones. You pick."

"Ten ones," he says, because ten ones is more.

You tug his shorts down a little. His ass comes into view. And ohhhhh
fuckity-fuck to-hell-and-back.

Why is it – HOW is it – that some boys just HAVE it.

It's impossible to truly describe - a mix of many, many things that just
all align to create an "oh-fuckity-fuck" moment. When you look at Jax, he
has it all. His age, his looks, his hair, and the fact that he's a little
boy. Mmm!

And that position! So blissfully unaware of his own butt beauty and yet
everything about his pose says, "Just look at my cute little bottom, would
ya? Smell it. Sniff it. Put your nose in it. Finger it. See what it stinks
like. It stinks like me!"

And just look how little it is. It's so smooth. Little and round and
peachy-dark creamy. Like peanut butter. Like perfection. Soft like silk and
wild like midnight. You just want to lay on the floor with your head on his
ass like a pillow, your hands on his upper thighs, gently pulling his
little round bottom into your licking, sniffing, grateful face. He makes
you so happy you have tears in your eyes being down there that close to
him.

You wet your finger again and rub it around his hole, just on the outside,
just like you promised. You bring it to your nose and it smells so
heavenly. You smear it underneath your nostrils like Vicks. Like
balm. Euphoria hits you like a hammer in the face. You light up like neon
and you moan out loud while your cock starts to leak. He smells so
good. French dressing and vinegar and sugar and everything good about a
boy. Everything in his pants just waiting for you. Pants and promise,
Jax. Pants and promise.

You smell your finger again. Moan again. So good. So fucking sweet and hot
and good.

"Please God," you pray, "I just want my nose in this boy all day long. ALL
day long. Do not ever let him change his stinky little undies. Do not ever
let him bathe again. Make bathtime go away tonight. Just build a chair on
my shoulders with poles sticking out and put an open back on it so his ass
is directly in my face ALL day long."

"I will walk to the store sniffing his ass in my face. I will do my fucking
grocery shopping with him strapped to my face, and people will say, "Hey,
dude, what's up with that," and I will answer, "Oh, no biggie, just
sniffing his ass. He's attached to my face for the next, oh, five years
until his pubes come in."

"Fuck, fuck, fuckity-fuck. This one is just perfect. Perfect size, perfect
angle, perfect ass. God, I just want to put my nose in that, and never come
out, never, ever again. Just strap my face to his ass with duct tape. Let
him be my new oxygen mask. If I ever have surgery, put THAT over my nose
and mouth. I will pass out just as euphorically and quickly, with a smile
on my face and a hard cock in my pants."

It is bliss to sniff this. Bliss to be trapped in this hot, wild
babyfragrance.

Fuck, you want a hit of that. A long, sweet hit. Believe me, you do.

Jax is a good boy, everybody. Everybody meet Jax.

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9. PAINTER: PETER

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Peter Piper pants the wall 
And Peter's only four feet tall 
He rolls his roller, does his dance 
And paints some stinky in his pants.

Peter's bedroom's turning blue 
But Peter's bumhole's colored too 
With lots of creamy, pretty tan 
To satisfy this happy man.

His mommy helped him pick the paint 
While daddy watched him scratch his taint 
And now he's painting unaware 
While daddy stops to stare and stare.

I'd like to pull his blue jeans down 
And let my sniffer go to town 
And rub my nose on Peter's crack 
Don't stop painting! Don't look back!

His baby starfish opens wide 
To let my nose go deep inside 
To where his shiny stinkies are, 
Oh, twinkle, twinkle, little star.

I'd rub my nostrils on his hole 
And make him whinney like a foal 
His babystick would turn to steel 
While daddy sniffs his ripest meal.

Jack my dickie, shoot my cum 
And poke it up his baby bum 
And maybe if he wants a ride 
He'll let me stick the tip inside.

But if he won't then that's okay 
I'm pleased to sniff him anyway 
If he's too young to take my seed 
His stinky bottom's all I need.

So, Peter Piper paints the wall 
And Peter's only four feet tall 
And helping paint is lots of fun 
When Peter's 9, and he's your son.

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10. SOCCER: DREW

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So, Mark writes to me and he says:

"All hail the hamper gods! They have delivered more than a few moments of
fragrance heaven and some sweet sticky relief to my nether regions! It's
would be lovely to have a steady supply of those musky little undies
streaked with boy pucker residue, but only get to sample once in a while so
I have to rely on wonderful authors like yourself to keep the sights and
smells fresh in my mind.

"My nephew Andrew," he writes, (adding "we call him Drew'), is a few months
past his 9th birthday and loves to play soccer.  I have gone to several of
his games and he is quite the good little player. He is on the skinny side,
but not what you would call bony or scrawny....just lean from the soccer.

He has light brown hair and the loveliest scattering of freckles across the
bridge of his nose.  He also has big teeth for a kid, not freakishly big,
but just a little too large for his mouth and they add to his cuteness. I'd
love to run my tongue across those teeth someday....whew!

He is all boy so you can imagine that whenever he has to answer the call of
nature and poop, like most boys, he doesn't spend much time wiping away the
remnants of the sticky, stinky musk around that little wrinkle.

So all through the soccer matches, those cotton fibers get wedged into that
sweaty little crack and rubbed back and forth across his sweet pucker
picking up all those wonderful smells.  I can only imagine what it would be
like to be those fibers trapped between his cute little ass cheeks,
suffocating on all of the heady aroma of unwashed, moist boy crack.

I had the good fortune to be over at his house one evening when he got home
from soccer practice and was able to get to the hamper not long after he
passed by, dropping his soiled undies into the pile of dirty clothes.

The gods were smiling that day because everyone else was at the other end
of the house watching some program on TV so I was able to grab his
underwear and head into the spare bathroom.

Oh my goodness.....they were plenty moist with the sweat from his 90 minute
soccer practice.

I jammed them up to my nose and just huffed his sweet stink.

The front of his undies had just the faintest yellow stain from stray drops
of piss that I am sure he didn't shake off his wiener...thank goodness.

The combined smell of his sweat, a little bit of crotch musk and dried piss
filled my nose as I inhaled. At this point I was so hard I thought I would
fill my jeans without touching myself. But I was saving the best for
last. As expected, the seat of those white undies had a lovely light brown
smear right in the middle, right where that fabric had been trapped against
his sticky little wrinkle all day.

I brought that fabric up to my nose and inhaled. I thought my head would
explode! I could smell the sweet scent of musky boy crack competing with
the sharper tang of the brown glaze spread across the fabric. It was sweet
and sour and smelled like boy ass.

I don't know how else to describe it. You know what I mean.

It's poop residue, but somehow after being trapped in his crack all day it
transforms into something even more sublime.

And yes, I did stuff those undies into my mouth and chew on the seat. It
was bitter, waxy, sweaty, sweet and sour just like you have described so
many times. Like vinegar fries at all the fall fairs and festivals.

I came quickly with those stinky little briefs in my mouth and stuffed them
back into the hamper before anyone was the wiser."

Thanks for sharing your nephew Drew with us, Mark. Too kind. Too
tingly. Anybody else out there have a favorite pair they'd like to sniff
and share? If you do, I hope you tell me about it. A man's gotta jack off
to something, right?

In the meantime, Drew's a good boy, everybody.

Everybody meet Drew.

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11. SKATEPARK: NICKY

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I told my friend about Nicky, my little cousin. I haven't written a story
about him, but I should.

I've sniffed that tiny, pretty, stinky little 10-year-old tween anus many
times via his dirty undies, which can be found high and low. He's never shy
about making a new batch and leaving them scattered around his bedroom
floor.

Nicky's perfect little boy crinkle smells:

Sweet. Candied. Sugary. Tart. Vinegary. Sharp.

But with some earthy or oceanic underscore.

Like hay. Like fish, but light.

Like a mild pussy smell. Like the first time you fucked a girl when you
were a kid, but fainter. He smells like stinky little boy anus mixed with
sweet little girl pussy. Like something you'd want to fuck. Like
pheromones. Girl ones and boy ones, all mixed together. Like a two-fer. A
two-fer one sale.

Muggy. Humid. Sultry.

But sugary, girly and oceanside sweet.

A skaterboy's dream.

His innocence aches through in his smell. Unfucked. Untainted.

He fingers himself. Light greasy streak-lines in his undies. Finger
dots. He scratches himself a lot. Pokes at his own hole.

"Nicky, get your finger out of your pants," his exasperated mother sighs
for the umpteenth time.

"Oh no, Nicky," I think. "Leave it right there, Champ. In fact, dig it in
just a leeeeeedle bit deeper for me."

Nicky likes to take his undies off and freeball it in his bedroom. Even at
10 this year, he's a happy little streaker. He turned 10 in June. Let's
hope he keeps it up until he's turns the corner into teenhood.

A skaterboy would love to fuck that creamy little boy booty. An older boy
of 15 maybe? Fucking that sweet little 10-year-old rump? Oh yeah. Nicky
would be any gay skaterboy's dream.

Sweet and sultry and sour. On one hand his anus smells female. You want to
fuck it. Mate with it. Make it have babies.

On the other hand, it smells like boy. You want to sniff it and moan. And
fuck him in the boy way, too.

Cum in his pretty little boy hole. Watch it bubble back out, and smell your
cum mixed with his raw-hot boystink.

Sexy as hell to think of that. Sexy as hell.

Come on, skaterboys. Get in line.

My friend said, "Oh fuck me sideways with a ten foot pole. What the fuck!"

"Hail, Nicky! The new Prince of Sniffsville!"

"Oh, Nicky. I fucking love you, dude. You're just a little boy and your
cousin has already sniffed your undies!"

"He knows what your bottom smells like!"

And at that point, my friend says he's just full-whack, cock-out and
stroking back and forth like a monkey on crack while he goes into total
perv-talk to Nicky:

"Ohhhh, Nicky, I just want to smell your stinky little anus in your undies!
Oh, fuck!"

That's what you gotta do sometimes. Just pretend you're talking to
them. Praising them.

If he only could have seen him after school yesterday, tummy-down on the
couch, playing games on my phone.

There should be a law against boys posing like that.

The arch of the back.

It literally makes me drool.

His feet up in the air with his cute white socks. The shape of his bottom
in those cute, black sweat pants. I just desperately want to slip my hand
down the back of them and feel his bottom all over. Just stroke his smooth
cheeks while he plays on his iPhone. Feeling his little bottom. Just that
alone would be unbelievable to do.

I'd lean over and whisper in his ear, "thanks for letting me feel your
bottom, Nicky," and just revel in my good fortune, encased in my capsule of
boylust with random thoughts and feelings about how little he is and how
he's just a little boy and how small he is and his little his bum cheeks
feel in my hand and how smooth they are and how much I'd love to sniff his
underpants right in that moment and how stinky-sweet his little asshole
must be.

Can you imagine leaning over him on the sofa there, gently pulling his
sweat pants down and his undies under his cheeks - the warmth of his little
bottom rising from him like the gentle rise of the sun during the
transition from night into day. So beautiful as you sense it. And then to
look at his milky white cheeks before parting them to see his little
pinky-brown balloon-knot? That fragrant little crack so beautiful. So
accessible. So sniffable. Who's first to sniff Nicky's bum hole, gents? Me
or you?

Or maybe you need more than that to get you off today, right? Maybe a
little more while you're thinking of sweet young Nicky and stroking your
cock?

Because that happens too, right?

I mean, sometimes it's just the look on their face that takes us from
"sniff mode" (my personal default setting), straight into "fuck mode," (Do
not pass Go, do not collect $200). I can't even define the look that takes
me there. Toughness? Over-confidence? Over-alluringness?

I saw a picture of a boy on a beach once, perfectly legal and fully clothed
in a swim suit, but I couldn't take my eyes away. My dick got hard in an
instant. And even me, confirmed olfactory adventurer, all I could think of
was, "Fuck sniffing his ass. Get your swim trunks down, stick this finger
full of Vaseline up your hole, shut up and sit on my dick. You're getting
fucked." Whoof.

And then sometimes it's completely the opposite. Innocence. Purity. Same
reaction. I'll see a tender, sweet boy like Nicky and think, "Get up in
your bedroom and pull those pants down. Now. Spread. You'll enjoy this more
than you're ever going to know." I can't explain it. Some boys I just pass
Go-Sniff, and go directly to F-Land.

Oh, don't get me wrong. I'm still taking their undies home as a
souvenir. I'll sniff those fuckers raw in the morning and jack off
remembering the fuck. But yeah, sometimes the primal "gotta fuck his brains
out" urge calls the loudest. It hits just like a hurricane sometimes.

So here's one of those for you and Nicky.

Say you're the skaterboy I was talking about. You're 15 that summer at
Hermosa Beach, and Nicky's 10, and he's been watching you trick it for an
hour now and he can't take his eyes off you.

So you lead him to the changing room.

"Hey, little dude. Come up here. I wanna show you something."

And Nicky's no stranger to cock. He's a pretty boy. He knows what older
boys want. And you take him into a solo changing room, you shut the stall
door and you push the lock button, and before you know it, you've got your
cock out of your shorts and Nicky's kneeling in front of you with his nose
in your sweaty pubes, and his throat humming around your hard cock so hard
you see buzzing bumblebees in your brain.

But you're not wasting this load in his throat. Oh, fuck no.

"Up you go, Champ," you tell him with a growl, and you bend him over the
bench and you pull those shorts down, and fuck, when that tight boyass
comes into view, you actually salivate. You actually drool, which is good
because you need that spit to lube up your cock. It's all you've got as you
hock it in your hand and smear your cock slippery-and-ready, and you run
two spit-soaked fingers up the crack of his ass, stopping long enough to
smell the raunchy aroma between his sweaty boy cheeks before you line it up
and then you long-dick it straight inside him and take your chances he
won't balk. And motherfucker, win the lottery, he doesn't miss a beat. In
it goes, no complaints.

"Ohhhh, nnnnngggghhhh," Nicky moans as you slip your dick in his shitty
little ass. You can see brown on the stalk and you can certainly smell it
in the air, but that's not slowing you down. You grab his hips and you give
it to him harder.

"Fuck that shitty ass," you whisper to him. "Gonna fuck that shit hole
good, Nicky."

And Nicky, no stranger to the things big boys do, he just grits his teeth
and giggles like a dirty boy and says, "Fuck my stinky hiney, Josh. Fuck my
stinky hiney hole."

You can both smell it now, and it makes you fuck him harder.

"You do it hard, Josh," he giggles as you smell it in the air.

And you've certainly got no reason to call him a liar. You're going from
low to medium to high and he's pushing back against you and pretty much
making a mess in everybody's shorts.

But you're beyond caring. You slide that hot dick of yours in and out of
his shitty chute until finally you grab his hips and pull him to you
tightly and unload a shot of hot baby-makers straight up his creamy little
tunnel.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck!" you grunt as you dick him to the jizz limit.

"I smell poop," he giggles. "TOO much poop!"

"Yeah," I smell it too, you tell him, pulling out and wiping it on his
thigh.

It wasn't pretty, what you did to Nicky in the changing room. But it was
over fast and it sure felt nice. And Nicky didn't complain. When he went
home and wiped himself that night, two parts cum and two parts stink, he
smiled and though of you as he lubed up his sister's hairbrush with
Vaseline and gave himself a repeat performance right there on the bathroom
floor.

And that one, frankly, between you and me, smelled a little bit riper than
the first.

And boy was his sister pissed in the morning. You should have heard her
when she found that brush, unwashed in the bathtub.

But that's a little brother for you. Always up to something.

But all in all, Nicky's a good boy, everybody. A little bit nice and a
whole lot dirty, but basically a good boy. With plenty to learn, so let's
keep an eye on him.

Nicky's a good boy, everybody. Everybody meet Nicky.

I wonder who we're going to meet next?

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12. HOMEWORK: SQUIGGY

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I call my nephew "Squiggy" after the goofy nerd in the old American TV
show, "Laverne & Shirley."It's not really appropriate because the poor
lad's not nerdy at all. He's actually quite sweet and cool for a
9-year-old. But he used to sit in my lap and squiggle when he was younger,
so at first I called him "Squiggly," and somehow that eventually morphed
into "Squiggy," and, well, that's how nicknames are born, mate.

I'm gay and I'm married, but my husband works overseas in the states, so I
come to my sister's house a lot of times for dinner (open invitation, she's
a single mum), and to help Squiggy with his homework after school. Today we
were doing fourth-grade fractions, but he looked so damned cute and sweet
and stinky sitting there in his school uniform, those frustratingly tight
shorts, I had to excuse myself for a piss and a shit, because I just knew
I'd have to go upstairs and jack off, or I'd never be able to concentrate
long enough to help him figure out the difference between four-fifths and
nine-sixteenths.

I found a pair of Squiggy's sweet-stinky boy panties in the hamper in the
upstairs loo, and I was underway immediately because let me tell you, they
were riper than a trip to the zoo. I've often smelled Squiggy's underwear,
for three solid years now, and those of his little friends too when I've
been lucky enough to be over when the boys go swimming down at the
pier. Good old Uncle Will. You can always count on me to stay behind and
hang onto the clothes bag, fresh out of the changing room, as you run
carefree down the beach for a swim with your mates.

So, I've smelled Squiggy's undies and I've smelled those of his
friends. There's young Daniel, whose anus smells like lemon juice and fruit
topping, especially after a hard game of footie. One smell of David's arse
and you can even forgive the poor lad for being a Chelsea fan.

Then there's little Mick, who smells like avocado and spicy pesto. I even
felt his cock against the back of my neck once when the little bugger rode
on my shoulders in light summer shorts, the fabric hiding nothing as his
thick little nail poked me in the neck. And he knew it, the sexy little
sod. And he giggled.

And then there's Stevie. Christ God, Stevie, who smells like something wild
and Mediterranean. His stinky little crinkle smells like chickpeas or
lentils, something yeasty and earthlike, mixed with the honey-sweet vinegar
stink of pure unwashed boyhole. My mouth watered just thinking of Stevie
and all the other friends of Squiggy I'd sniffed from afar. Sometimes
they'd all come back from their swim an hour later to find me still in a
locked changing stall, little knowing I'd been sniffing one pair then the
next behind the locked cubby, my cock so raw from consecutive masturbation
I'd have to put it on ice when I got back to my flat.

I've said to my boylover friends often – to those who truly understand
my fetish – I need there to be an Undie-of-the-Month Club. Like the
Harry & David fruit boxes or the Gevalia coffee shipments. Once a month, I
want a different boy's stinky little undies to show up in the post, put in
a Ziplock so they stay fresh, vinegar-sweet and piping hot.

I can't imagine what I'd pay for a service like that. If someone said "100
pounds a month for a new pair of boys stinky panties every 30 days," I'd
write a cheque on the spot. If someone said "200 pounds a month," I'd have
to scramble like hell to come up with an excuse to tell my husband where
his money was going, but I think I'd pay that too. I'd find a way to fund
it somehow. Can you imagine? A different pair of boy's dirty undies every
month? With a school picture enclosed of the boy who did the dirty deed,
smiling and tucked into the soiled stripes and smudges? Oh heavenly
days. God save the Queen.

I'm not sure where my fascination with boy stink comes from. Believe me,
I've tried to make myself understand it through the years. Other friends
who love boys dearly and who share many common fuck fantasies with me,
still stop the train dead on the tracks when I tell them, "Oh by the by,
I'd also like smell fuck-all out of his little arse before he goes home at
night." They just do an "eeek" and their faces turn white. It's a rather
firm and targeted characteristic so little-shared and barely appreciated, I
have no choice but to ponder its potential genesis. My own randy boyhood, I
suppose?

I never really smelled my little boy-sex friends directly nose-to-arse when
I was a boy. I mean, not in the active sense like, "Hey mate, bend over and
spread yer cheeks and let me smell your bum." But I do remember we played
those giggly little rounds of "butt finger" or "stink finger" as some lads
call it, where you stick your hands down your own pants, finger your own
shit hole, then rub the clear-pasty grease under some other kid's nose. Or
once in a while if the timing is right, smudge him with just a bit of
creamy tan, mate.

It's supposed to be a shitty gross-out game full of giggles and horrified
revulsion, but when boys did it to me, I just lit up like a Christmas
tree. Every synapse in my brain fired off instantaneously. And I too had to
giggle and go "Ewwww, bugger off, you filthy sod!!" and all the other,
typical, "safe" "it's just a game" reactions. But oh, in my little mind,
every time, all I could think of was "Oh yes, oh yes, please, please,
please, please smear more of your stinky butt smell under my
nose....please, please, please give me more," because that smell, that
rawness, that ripeness was something I craved day after day after day after
day. I could live on it, mate. The smell of my friends' little bums.

I would often be the instigator in that game. I would do it to my mates,
not because it gave me any thrill to do it to them, but because then I
could taunt them, "Bet you can't do it back to me, ha-ha," until they HAD
to. And believe me, I didn't make it very hard at all for them to do it
back. Heavenly Christ in a room full of virgins, I still go weak-kneed and
breathless when I think of that.

So, I never got to bend my mates over when I was a kid and just stick my
nose in them, but I did have a LOT of anal sex as a kid. A LOT. And I was
usually the top. And my other mates, usually one or two years younger than
me, would always smell so good when I fucked them, I can't help but
associate the smell of strong, open boy-ass with those first exciting
sexual fumblings. We used a lot of spit back in my childhood. Vaseline was
messy, and mum's hand lotion always smelled of petunias and the ladies
club. Lube, of course, was unheard of, so we just butt-fucked with spit,
plain and proper.

And believe me, when you get two summer-randy boys in back of the flat,
door locked and butt-fucking with spit as their only lube, all you can
smell in the air when you fuck is sweet-crack, ripe-open, stinky-fine boy
ass. My mum would often walk in afterwards and turn up her nose and ask
who'd been eating beans. "Good Lord, Will," she'd say, "open a window!" It
wasn't farts, Mum! It was wide-open boy ass you were smelling all those
times! It was stinky-secret boy sex, right under your nose!

To this day the smell of boy pussy is so inexorably connected to sexual
pleasure, I honestly think I would have a hard time performing without
it. Even fucking my husband, I will finger his ass (or my own) just so I
can smell it off my finger when I'm fucking him, pretending it's boy pussy
I'm smelling. It's a scent that is so inexorably connected in me as the
olfactory equivalent to sexual pleasure, I simply can't perform without it.

But enough waxing nostalgic and trying to find an answer for it. Chalk it
up to personal fetish and utter puzzlement. If you like the smell of stinky
boy undies, you just do. And there's really no way to explain it to your
mates who don't. Not that I've ever been able to come up with anyway.

So, up the stairs I scampered to release the pent-up load of semen in my
balls and to see if Squiggy left me any presents behind. Stinky little
spots from his stinky little bottom crinkle, or pissy little stains from
his tiny uncut cock, another fragrant little gift from heaven. There were
usually plenty of undies about, and they were usually ripe in both areas,
front and back.

Given the fact that Squiggy is only 9 years old, you can assume like I do
that he hates to take a bath.  That reality, coupled with the only
perfunctory swipes of his butt crack after he takes a poop, means that his
undies are normally soiled to perfection and would likely knock you and
your next door neighbor into a flat-out coma as you shared a deep sniff of
those moist, sticky, streaked little panties.

This is not the casual smell of butt, this is the deep, dark, dank, nasty
smell of ripe, raw boy pussy, the smell that causes you to hesitate because
it's so powerful, strong and nasty. Yet you force those moist and dirty
briefs up to your nose anyway, because you need to smell that boy, possess
him in the only way you know you safely can.

And the piss in his undies is equally strong. Like all little boys, he's
more concerned with "fast" than "proper," and often runs off to play with
the last few drops of steaming, yellow, maple-scented boy piss still
dribbling off his pinchy little foreskin and into the crotch of his panties
below, a feast to my nose and my sucking-hungry mouth, reconstituting it
all with mouthfuls of spit and sucking them clean again.

So, that's where I was, standing there in the upstairs loo, stroking my
cock and smelling his panties. They were earthy and sweet, Squiggy's usual
french dressing smell. Canned sweat peas came to mind, as did a hint of
sharp cheddar cheese.

Add a splash of milk, just vaguely starting to sour, and call them
eye-watering and fruity, with just a tiny ote of egg salad.

A fine pair, a delicious pair for mouth and nose.

I shot my load all over the bathroom sink in no time, before coming
downstairs again and helping him with his homework.

If he knew how much I wanted to fuck him right then, he probably would have
fallen out of his chair, sweet lad.

The thought alone would have knocked him off his arse.

Squiggy's a good lad, everybody.

Everybody meet Squiggy.

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13. BEGINNINGS: DAVID

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So I asked Mark to continue his story about David.

He'd dangled it teasingly in front of my nostrils a half-dozen emails ago,
telling me that he and David, when they were both six, played sweet little
peenie games, both innocent and naughty. How they rubbed their little
penises together. How he'd smelled David's little butt.

"It was the mid 1960's," Mark told me, "and we had been living for about a
year in what would be my childhood home for the next 18 years. New
neighbors had moved in next door earlier in the year and they had a son
about my age named David. We became fast friends because that's what little
kids do. They don't need much more to strike up a friendship than living
close to one another.

David was a typical boy in many ways. He loved to play outdoors, as we all
did because there were only two channels on the TV and no electronic
devices.

We were similar in height and weight, both being on the skinny side the way
young boys often are. His short hair was much lighter than my dark brown
hair color. His was light brown with reddish overtones.

I can only imagine today that he would have a lovely set of ginger
pubes...but at the time of these tales, pubes were far in the future and
not something we were even conscious of.

He had freckles which fascinated me, as I didn't have them. They were
sprinkled across his cheeks and nose and added to the cuteness.

One day as we were playing outside and climbing trees, I had him follow me
behind a large cinderblock storage shed we had in our backyard. Once there,
I convinced him that we should take our clothes off. He was a bit hesitant
at first, but I began to take off my clothes and the peer pressure was
enough to force him to follow suit. To this day, I don't know how we didn't
get caught, out in the broad daylight stripped to our birthday suits for
all the world to see.

I certainly did not know what was going to come next as we began to strip,
but I was fascinated with his body as he took off his shirt and shorts. His
skin was so pale compared to mine....that milky white, blemish free skin
that to this day causes me to grow weak in the knees.

He was wearing tighty whities, because that is what every little boy wore
in the 60's. Old men work boxers and boxer briefs and Underoos hadn't yet
been invented. We only had tighty whities, and those undies hugged his body
perfectly and I could see the bulge of his boyhood and the lovely curve of
his ass cheeks.

So in for a penny, in for a pound, we both peeled down those undies and
stood face-to-face in all our naked glory. We were both as naïve as two
little boys could be, and yet I remember feeling a delicious naughtiness at
being naked with David...and that feeling caused just the tiniest bit of
tingle in my little dick.

Of course, I was looking at his little penis, fascinated to see another
boy's privates. We were a conservative family and nudity was not encouraged
or tolerated and so I had not ever seen another dick besides mine.

I can still remember just how perfect it looked. His tummy swelled out just
a bit above his smooth white pubis...a look that is so sexy on a boy. His
cock was hardly larger than the end of my thumb, but I was mesmerized by
the healthy pink color and the way the skin on the shaft bunched up around
his little cock head like a wrinkly flesh collar.  Being only an inch or so
in length, there was not enough weight to cause it to hang down over his
smooth, tight little nut sack and those sweet little acorns.  And I
realized that he looked like me....it was like looking at my groin in a
mirror.

What happened next, still thrills me to this day.

I told David that we should "rub our wieners" together. God, I don't know
where I got the idea, but fuck, if he didn't agree.

We each held our little cocks between our thumb and index finger, thrust
our hips forward and let virgin boyflesh touch virgin boyflesh. It was like
an electric shock passed through my little flesh spike and shook my whole
body.

I certainly didn't understand what was happening or connect it to anything
overtly sexual at 6 years old, but I knew it felt good and my little spike
got hard instantly, growing to its full length of 1.5 inches. Not content
to just touch the end of my cock to David's, I began to rub my piss slit
against his and drag the cockhead around the circumference of his equally
hard little flesh sword.

At this point, the whole universe collapsed into that one moment and the
tingly feelings coming from my immature little rod....I could have rubbed
my dick against him forever. But boys being boys, we were easily
distracted, or at least David was and he was ready to move on.

Oh, that I could have had the impulse to drop to my knees and suck that
boyflesh into my mouth and taste his skin, his sweat and the tang of dried
piss on his cock head. I have lamented a thousand times over that lost
opportunity, but at the time it just never occurred to me.

Moving on however meant that it was time for a little butt play. This is
the secret, naughty stuff that boys do when no one is looking. I had David
turn around and I got my first good look at his milky white cheeks with the
dusky crack in the middle.

The sun was shining through the trees and casting a beautiful light onto
those smooth globes of flesh. With nothing but instinct urging me forward,
I reached up and touched his ass, causing him to giggle a bit. But, God, I
wanted more, so I took both hands and spread his cheeks apart so I could
see his little boy wrinkle. Without my urging, David bent forward putting
his hands on the cinder block wall for support, having the effect of
spreading his cheeks even further.

And then I could see it. His crack was open and exposed and there in the
center was that lovely tan boy pucker.

At this point I could smell his scent -- a slightly sweaty, musky, yeasty
smell that was pure virgin boy ass.

I remember breathing in the sweet essence of another boy's ass for the
first time and I was drawn into the warm, moist valley as if I were in a
trance. The smell was much stronger between his cheeks and I pressed my
little nose up against his slightly sticky, tight little pussy and I
breathed. Oh, God, I breathed.

Whether it was sweat or shit, whatever his little poop hole was glazed-over
with, it was intoxicating to me.  My brain and body were in stasis as my
nose was assailed repeatedly by this sweet, perfect odor. There was no
"ewwwww" reaction, only the realization that this smell was something I
liked, I needed, I craved.  It was as if it had fucked all of my brain
cells into a coma and left my little dick tingling.

I didn't understand the connection at the time. I didn't connect the dots
that it was the sweet stink of David hairless boypussy that was causing my
body to react and send those shivers of good feelings through me. I only
knew that it smelled good to me....smelled like David....smelled like the
over-ripe honeysuckle blossoms we would suck the nectar out of as kids -
like the honeysuckle mixed with wet earth – and it was all boy.  It was
my first sniff and the beginning of my journey as a lifelong boy-ass and
undie sniffer.

If I'd only had the impulse to lick his hole....what would it have tasted
like to me at 6? Would there be the saltiness from his sweat, combined with
a little bit of bitterness left over from his latest? Would there be a bit
of sweetness as if he had been eating pixie sticks all morning or had slid
a spearmint candy cane up his tight little balloon knot?

Maybe it would have been all of these, mixed in with the sweaty, musky,
nutty smell of his hot little crack. I've imagined so many times over the
years what it would have been like to eat that sweet little hole. I'm not
sure David would have gone along as he was completely puzzled by my
fascination with his ass, but still, I continue to fantasize he'd let me,
and I wonder what it would taste like.

To David's credit, he let me do whatever popped into the head of a little
six-year-old. I rubbed my finger all across his tan wrinkle...feeling every
fold of flesh, as well as the tacky wetness that was smeared across it. I
poked at this hole, seeing if I could get my finger inside, but to no
avail.

But much to my delight, my finger now smelled like David's sweet ass and
long hours after we finished our naughty games, I could still smell him
every time I brought my index finger up to my nose and sniffed.

I took a stick and poked at his hole, grabbed some berries off the vines
next to the cinder block wall and tried to push them into his little
pussy. I even found a peach pit that I rubbed across his hole and tried in
vain to push through his tight little ass muscle. The crazy things that
boys do.

I only ever got to sniff his ass one more time and it was through his
jeans, and he never knew, but it was still the sweet stink of David, and I
carry the memory of that smell with me to this day. All I have to do is
close my eyes and I'm six again.

David was a good boy, everybody.

Everybody meet David.

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14. PRIVILEGED: COOPER

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I've been in love with Cooper ever since the first time I set eyes on him.

I mean, just look at him. It's difficult for me to fathom why everybody and
their dog doesn't immediately fall head over heels in lust with him.

I first met Cooper at the new house party his mom and dad were
throwing. Along with most of the neighborhood, my sister and I had been
invited over to share in the joy of our new neighbors' home - an evening of
small talk, big smiles and over-creative food and wines that were far too
impressive to serve at a general gathering of neighbors - but that was
Cooper's parents.

Cooper was a rich kid and he fit the profile perfectly. He had suffered no
hardship in his life and had the most rad bedroom filled with the coolest
gadgets any twelve-year-old boy would be jealous of. He played tennis (at
the Country Club of course) as well as basketball and soccer and he was
also a good swimmer. All his clothes were designer brands. But I wouldn't
find most of this out until much later.

"This is Cooper," his mom said introducing him to me and my sis.

His eyes locked on mine. Oh fuck. Brace yourself, Brad. This is going to be
one of those moments.

"Have you ANY idea how fucking beautiful you are?" I said to him in my
head.

But I really said, "Hey Cooper, I'm Brad, nice to meet you."

My appropriate behavior filter served me well.

"Hi Brad, nice to meet you too," Cooper replied in the sweetest unbroken
boy voice you ever heard. "I'd love you to take me to my bedroom, pull my
shorts down, get on your knees behind me and find out what my ass smell
like."

An awkward moment lingered. "Nice to meet you too" had been the last thing
Cooper had actually said and I now stood there realizing I had floated off
on a fantasy tangent while the conversation had ground to a screeching
halt.

"Errm..." I quickly blurted out - my rescue-me filter kicking into to high
protection mode. "How old are you, Cooper?"

"He's just gone into sixth grade at Beaufort Middle School," his mom said
proudly. Tuition fees at Beaufort were comparable to the national average
salary.

"Sixth grade, huh?" I said smiling at the most precious boy face I'd set
eyes on in years. I almost lost myself in it to the exclusion of everything
happening around me. I found myself inspecting every detail of his facial
features; his steel-blue, come-fuck-me eyes, the strands of which colored
them in a kaleidoscopic display of beauty like a peacock showing off its
tail feathers. His perfectly shaped nose almost impish in its own right
with a delicate spray of soft brown freckles cascading across it and onto
his smooth cheeks. His little perky mouth and pink lips practically had
their own voice and were screaming at me, "Kiss me! Kiss me! Kiss me now!"
with everything topped off by his soft, surf-like, wavy hair which was a
perfect mix of dark brown, interwoven with streaks of gold.

I was getting dizzy. It was taking every ounce of my emotional strength to
prevent me from falling to my knees, curling my palms up in a display of
"oh, how I worship thee," and proclaiming for the entire house to hear, "I
FUCKING love this twelve-year-old boy and I want to sniff his smelly ass
all day every day starting right now!"

"Sixth grade, huh? Cool...so you must be what...twelve?" - my euphemism for
"you're now a middle schooler so I bet your ass smells really sweaty these
days."

"Yeah," he said smiling back at me with a delicately sweet and proud, "can
you believe it?" kinda laugh.

Oh, this boy was beautiful. I could barely stand it. I looked at my
sister. She shook Cooper's hand.

"Hi Cooper, I'm Ally," she said with her trademark smile. She had beautiful
teeth, my sister.

Wait. "Hi Cooper, I'm Ally?" That's it? That's all she's going to say? Do
her eyes not work? "Hi Cooper, I'm Ally..." and then nothing?

I waited for a, "...and I've never in my entire life seen a twelve-year old
boy as hot as you are in this moment and I want you to fuck my brains out
right now with your rock hard three-and-a-half-inch boner."

But it never came.

And as sure as night is dark and day is light, I would love to watch Cooper
fuck my twenty-eight year old sister rigid, preferably over an entire
weekend - boning her and boning her and boning her with his little preteen
pricklet and watching as she tickle-licks his sweaty tween asshole,
pleasuring him with her tongue as she should. He deserves to be pleasured
by her. She should be at his disposal.

Fuck, where was I?

I took the corner of the white leather sofa in the living room and worked
my way through a glass of Silver Oak Alexander Valley. I worried about
spilling it on the sofa and wondered what Cooper's parents would be pissed
about most - the sofa or the almost equally as expensive wine.

My hope of remaining inconspicuous so I could feast my eyes on Cooper and
hatch my grooming plan quickly faded when others joined me on the
sofa. Don't get me wrong, they were all nice enough folk - they were my
neighbors and I liked most of them, but come on - really?

I was pressured by my social conscience filter - my inner voice acting as a
guide to the rightness of my behavior.

"Yes, in this economy, you'd think he'd be more protective of his job," I
said to Frank, the IT guy from the end of the street.

"I told him the same thing," replied Frank. We'd gone from formalities to
preamble to a full on conversation. "I told him, if you don't take it
seriously," Frank continued, "you'll end up becoming unstuck and..."

I heard nothing else.

I could see Frank's mouth moving, but it went from articulate words, to
blah, blah, blah then absolutely nothing. I just fogged him out. You see,
Cooper had come into the living room and was sliding energetically across
the room, no doubt randomly to everyone else who may have been watching him
- but nobody was watching him like me.

To me, Cooper moved with boyish precision, a graceful elegance and an
innate innocent beauty. I felt my whole body begin to melt as I watched the
softness of his little white-socked sixth-grader feet skip across the
expensive hardwood floor as he tossed peanuts up into the air catching
maybe one in three in his mouth.

"Cooper, stop that!" his mom shouted. Cooper turned around, looked at his
mom and threw another peanut in the air. I watched as it came down in slow
motion, his little pink lips opening wide, his delicate and long eyelashes
interweaving as his eyes closed.

Pop. The peanut went right into his mouth. Cooper opened his eyes, looked
at his mom, smiled cheekily and then scampered off in a self-amazed moment.

Fuck, he was incredible. I was in Lustville and they had made me the
fucking Mayor.

There was no going back. I had known this kid for all of five minutes and
barely held a conversation with him, yet I knew given the opportunity, and
without even knowing his last name, I would press my nose right into the
stickiness of his tight little wrinkled twelve-year-old anus and just sniff
it and sniff it and sniff it and sniff it.

He was so beautiful to me, I would take him however he came, and the only
time I would be disappointed was if he was completely clean. I needed
something, or everything, or something in between, but not nothing.

I watched in awe of Cooper (and probably noticeably drooling over him in
front of Frank and his colleague story) as he continued his high-energy
display of skipping back and forth across the floor, his little preteen
bottom looking so small and round yet tactile in his cute knee-length,
khaki combat shorts.

I needed to smell Cooper's bottom so badly, I was aching in places I didn't
even know I could ache.

As Frank warbled on with his bullshit story, I lost myself in Cooper's
twelve-year-old bottom wondering what it smelled like in that moment. I
hoped for ripe and sweaty with a hint of spiciness but I would take dirty
too, just as long as he wasn't clean. I couldn't bear to be sniffing
Cooper's ass and it not smell of him at his most typical.

Boys have smelly bottoms. That's just boys. No amount of designer brand
clothing and outward appearances are going to convince me that Cooper's
bottom doesn't smell rank and stinky just because he looks like innocence
personified.

My grooming plan had started to take shape in the manner it always does. I
would contemplate my ultimate opportunity. Could there ever be a chance I
could get to sit for Cooper when his parents are out of town and creep into
his bedroom at three am and secretly sniff his ass while I jack off next to
his bed?

Unlikely, but it was always in my grooming plan no matter what. The most
likely opportunity was that I would get my hands on a pair of his dirty
underpants and when it's all said and done, I would be happy with just
that. A simple opportunity to actually find out what Cooper's bottom smells
like by sniffing a pair of his dirty underpants should be, and was, enough
for me.

"Wise words, Frank," I said as I took to my feet. "Will you excuse me for a
moment?"

I put my empty crystal-cut wine glass on the marble coffee table and
grabbed a handful of peanuts from the glass bowl. I made my way over to
where Cooper was now standing - in front of the TV pressing buttons on the
remote control, flicking through channels faster than anyone could possibly
work out what was on them, except for a bright, twelve-year-old boy.

The first peanut went into the air and made a noise as it crashed down on
the hardwood floor behind Cooper's feet.

"You gotta teach me how to do this," I said to him as he turned around to
see where the interference was coming from. Cooper looked at the peanut on
the floor and then back at me as I launched a second one into the air with
the same fate.

"No, you gotta do it like this," he said as he took a peanut right out of
my hand. Just the random act of him taking a peanut out of my hand was very
sexual to me. Almost in shock that he'd reached out his hand into mine, I
looked at him - and he smiled at me.

"Filter, filter, where art thou, my fucking filter?" I asked myself, my
frontal lobe completely mixing up the signals. This is a twelve-year-old
boy. What possible deeper meaning could a trivial moment whereby he grabs a
peanut out of my hand actually have?

But my amygdala was all skew-whiff. It had no idea how to correctly process
Cooper's smile and rendered me having to wrestle with my emotions as I
waited for my filter to replace what my amygdala was telling me to think
with something more appropriate.

Cooper had taken a peanut from my hand, smiled at me, then launched the
peanut into the air. That was the totality of it, but my amygdala took the
moment, together with his smile and presented back to me for my
consideration:

He wants you to smell his ass and then make love to him after he's rubbed
his hairless, sweaty little balls all over your face.

Could that be true? Is it? Damn. He DID look at me in a very teasing
manner. Does he know I love boys? Can he just sense it? Maybe he's been
with a guy before. Maybe he's gay and he likes me. Maybe he's desperate for
a blow job.

Filter, filter, damn you! Rescue me.

It felt like it took ten minutes for that peanut to come down. I watched in
comparable amounts of awe and lust as Cooper extended his neck upward
causing his skin to stretch tight around his windpipe and his chin to
protrude outward. I could see up his little nostrils. As gravity kicked in
and the peanut made its way back down, Cooper opened his mouth and he
opened it wide, his eyes closing at the same time.

Here was Cooper, twelve years old, standing in front of me, his head tipped
back, his eyes closed and his mouth wide open. As I looked down on him, my
five-feet-eleven towering over his all-of-four-feet-ten, it was almost too
much for me to handle.

"Like that," he said to me, tipping his head back down and chewing on his
prize before finishing with a cute, boyish smugness and a smile with his
pearly white, preteen teeth.

"There's no question about it...I have to sniff your dirty underpants and
find out what your bottom smells like," I said to myself as I looked deep
into his steel blue eyes.

Whichever way this might pan out, there was no way I wouldn't get to at
least sniff his ass from his underpants at least once during his last
preteen year.

Cooper's a good boy, everybody.

Everybody meet Cooper.

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15. EVOLVING: COOPER, CONTINUED

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What the man with the peanuts didn't know is that Cooper could tell he was
flirting and interested.

Cooper was 12, and rich and sweet and privileged, but he wasn't dumb.

Cooper had been doing sex stuff with boys for as long as he could remember.

He hadn't tried a man yet, but he knew boy sex very, very well.

When he was 6, his babysitter who was 15, used to give Cooper baths at
night, and what started out as tickling and giggling soon progressed into
hugging and rubbing and massaging and then kissing. The babysitter would
carry little Cooper to bed naked, and lay him down in his bed, and slowly
rub just little bits of baby oil on Cooper's baby soft skin. Not enough to
make him greasy or uncomfortable. Just enough to make him soft and smell
nice.

This went on for quite some time, until one night after bathing him, the
babysitter, Jason, flipped Cooper over on his tummy and put a fingerful of
baby oil right up Cooper's stinky little butthole. It felt really warm and
squishy and soft and Cooper liked it and make little giggle-noises while
Jason fingered his butthole, in and out, in and out, getting slipperier and
poopier by the minute.

Then Jason did something Cooper really didn't expect. He took out his big
boy penis and rubbed it up and down in his hand really fast and made it
squirt some white stuff out. He got really shaky and called Cooper swear
words when his white stuff shot out, and he smelled his finger, which
smelled like Cooper's poop. Cooper got lots of poop on Jason's finger that
night, but Jason seemed to like it. He rubbed it on Cooper's undies and
stole them. He kept them.

As soon as Jasson's white stuff shot out, he caught it in the cup of his
hand and started poking it into Cooper's bottom, one stinky fingerful at a
time. And he didn't stop until every bit of it was up inside of Cooper's
butt. Poop mixed with butt mixed with stink mixed with baby oil. And all
mixed with the white stuff that came out Jason's sticky big-boy cock.

When Cooper was 7, Jason, who was then 16, taught him how to suck his penis
and swallow his sperm. Cooper liked that part. The sperm tasted salty and
gooey and nutty and good. But his mom and dad came home early one night and
found them asleep without their pants on and Jason's finger up Cooper's
butt and that was the end of Jason babysitting. He got in trouble and his
parents moved away.

Then Cooper and his mom and dad moved "back east" as his mom called it, to
be near her family. And from 8-11, Cooper did just about everything you
could think of with all of his neighborhood boys. Some of them already knew
how to suck and finger buttholes. The ones that didn't, Cooper taught
them. Some of them were stinky and some of them were clean, but Cooper
didn't care. He sucked and fingered them, and then he learned to butt fuck,
and after that, he learned how to take another boy's dick inside his own
butt without it hurting (you had to push out like you had to poop, and
sometimes you actually did a little), but no matter what, that part was
really good. That part where you butt-fucked a boy or a boy butt-fucked
you, that made the sucking and the fingering seem like little sips of
Kool-Aid before the big bowl of ice cream comes out.

And now Cooper was 12. And now his parents had found a new neighborhood. A
really nice one with lots of cool kids where they lived. They had a dinner
party and invited a bunch of nice but boring people over, including that
guy that kept throwing peanuts up in the air and following Cooper around
like a dog in heat.

Cooper was 12, but he wasn't dumb. He could tell when a boy was hot for
him. And a man was just an older boy. Cooper could tell what Peanut Man
wanted to do to him.

And it was fun to flirt back a little, because Coooper didn't know for
sure. So far he'd only done stuff with boys. But who knows? A man might be
fun too. If they go slow, anyway. And if they don't mind poop on their
dick.

One of his neighbors was a kid named Matthew. Matthew was one of the most
stinky-ass-undie kids Cooper had ever met. The first time Coooper saw
Matthew's underwear, holy cow, his eyes bugged out. Luckily he didn't have
to fuck Matthew's ass, because Matthew was more interested in fucking
Cooper's ass.

Matthew invited him to his house and the first thing he said was, "I kind
of have a boyfriend named Jacob, so don't tell him we did this, okay?"

And Cooper nodded yes. He knew Jacob already. Jacob could bend in the
middle and suck his own cock. He'd seen him do it. It was neat.

So, Matthew got down on his knees and unzipped Cooper's pants and pulled
down his undies and sucked Cooper's four-inch cock until it got really
hard, then turned him around, and licked and sucked on his asshole for a
while, then bent him over the bed and stuck his cock in Cooper's ass.

And it felt really, really good.

But Cooper was kind of dirty inside because he hadn't pooped yet that day.

And when Matthew started fucking him, Matthew's cock got kind of dirty, but
Matthew didn't care.

He just said, "Oh fuck yeah. Look at that shitty cock going in and out of
your ass. Gonna shoot my jizz up that shitty, stinky ass, baby," and a
whole bunch of other stuff and swear words that made Cooper blush, but it
made him feel really good and sexy, too.

"I'm gonna cum in your shithole, Cooper, you want that, huh? You want my
jizz up your stinky shit hole?"

Cooper whimpered yes, because he did.

"Cooper Pooper," Matthew grunted, and a nickname was born.  "Gonna cum in
your shitty fuck-guts, sweet little Cooper Pooper. Oh yeah, baby. I'm gonna
stick this stinky cock up your hole and come in you good."

And the shitty tan boylube from his own greasy stink-ass helped Matthew
stick his cock all the way inside him, as far up inside him as any boy had
ever fucked him, and he grunted and twitched and pushed in hard and filled
Cooper's shit-ass with a grunt full of cum.

And Matthew whispered, "Oh yeah, Cooper Shit Boy. Fuck your stinky ass,
man. I'm gonna fuck your stinky ass a lot. A LOT."

And he did. He did fuck Cooper's stinky ass a lot.

And the other new neighbors that Cooper messed around with were Riker and
Riley, the twins from down the street. They were a little younger than
Cooper, but when Matthew told them about "Cooper Pooper," the first thing
they wanted to do was come over and see if it was true.

They were in the middle of this big experiment they said, and wanted to
know if they could stick some little ice cubes up Cooper's ass. It might
help clean him out a little.

"No way," Cooper said, shaking his head. "You guys are weird."

But then they showed them how they did it, and Cooper was intrigued to say
the least.

They locked Cooper's door, and put some little grape-flavored ice chips up
each other's asses from a Baggie they were carrying with them, and then
they invited Cooper to lick them out -- straight out of their buttholes! --
which he did. And after that, Cooper got so horny licking their stinky
asses, which tasted like grape but also like butt stink, he couldn't help
himself -- he fucked one of them, Riley, right on the spot, while his twin
brother Riker watched and stroked his cock.

And after that, Riker was horny too, and he shoved it into Cooper, and
fucked the bigger boy with his smaller dick. And once again, Cooper, who
hadn't pooped yet after school, got just a little creamy tan on Riker's
little fuck stick, once again earning his nickname.

"Aw, man," Riker giggled. "Matthew was right. You really are Cooper
Pooper. That's gross!"

Cooper just shrugged.

"No big deal," he said. "Poop washes off."

So, that man with the peanuts just didn't know – Cooper not only
understood he was flirting with him – Cooper could acutally tell by the
way the man stared at his ass and got all flushed and red in the face and
hard in the pants, exactly what the man was thinking about.

He was thinking he wanted to put his cock in Cooper's ass. Or touch him
down there. Or lick him down there. Or do something to him down there.

Cooper closed his eyes in bed that night and slid his finger in and out of
his ass. He pretended it was the man's hard cock, going in and out, in and
out of him. He pulled his stinky finger out and smelled the sweet shitty
smell of his own ass with one hand to his nose while the other jacked off
his hard little boycock.

He smelled is own stink finger, jacking and sniffing and cumming in sweet
little babygrunts, 12-years-old and thinking of man-fuck for the very first
time.

Cooper's a good boy, everybody. And he's getting even better.

He's getting even better and he's getting even braver.

Everybody meet Cooper.

We haven't heard the last of Cooper, folks.

Not by a long shot.

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16. WIDER: WYATT

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I saw a picture of Wyatt the other day. He's 12-years-old this year and one
of the most popular boys at summer camp. He was eating a hot dog around the
campfire and somebody took a picture, clear as a bell and lit up perfectly
in camera flash and firelight. Wyatt eating a hot dog, looking seductively
at the camera. His jaw was open as wide as it could possibly go. Obscenely
so. Who took that picture? Which other boy? Whoever did, God bless him.

In my mind, I can imagine he's eating that hot dog because I'm a camp
counselor and Wyatt is only warming himself up with an Oscar Mayer
precursor because he already knows how loose I like his jaw to be while I'm
feeding him my fat, long cock. Sort of like how a singer warms up before a
concert, only in this case, he'll be humming around the head of my dick in
the next half hour when the boys go back to their bunks, lights-out time.

I was thinking today of what it would be like to hear him shyly ask me to
suck on his sweet little boycock, to put my face into his hairless crotch
and smell all those sweet scents of boyhood....the sweat, the faint
tangy-sweet smell of the dried piss on the head of his dick...that pissy
smell that reminds me of those maple flavored candies we always bought at
Sears in the old days...the slightly musky, yeasty smell around his
immature little acorns...the stronger, darker scent rolling up from his
moist crack, filling my nose and causing me to groan with need and lust.

Dear God, I wish I could show you the picture. Wyatt could make a fortune!!
Looking at the way he's opening up to gobble that hot dog, he would have no
problem locking those sweet little lips around my cock. Holy fuck, his
mouth is so hot and wet as he begins to suck. A little too unintentionally
toothy against my wincing cock-shaft (ouch!), but hey, the kid is still
inexperienced and it's worth an occasional scrape of his cute little teeth
to experience getting to slide my dick deeper and deeper into his mouth.

He is looking up at me with a look of embarrassment at the naughty act he
is performing as well as a hint of hunger to suck me in harder and
deeper. Here's one little camper who's going to get a nice, creamy
surprise!!

At twelve, his little bottom with be perfectly pungent, filled with all the
powerful smells of a young boy, just about to leave pre-pubescence behind
-- sweaty and yeasty, dark and dirty, musky and tangy – he's ready for
me to press my face into that hot, moist valley and sniff and lick away all
that lovely ass grease. Maybe he is ready for a little game of stink finger
and poke the pooper? Where do I sign up for that afternoon in the camp
activity room?

Maybe he wants to be the big boy in control and wants to sit that lovely
ass down on my face, trapping me in that moist, pungent valley of flesh,
punctuated by the smell of Wyatt, the smell of a sweet, stinky little boy
who doesn't like to bathe and likes the feeling of being naughty when he
smells his poopy finger around the campfire.

Or maybe he wants to fuck himself on my cock after lights out at bunk time,
when he sneaks into my private room in the bunkhouse, all the other boys in
Mountain Lion Cabin fast asleep, stumbling in the dark until he find me
already waiting, hard cock standing straight up for him, wetting his ass
with his own thick spit, easing himself down on it, controlling what
happens, letting the strange new, good feelings overtake him...both of us
lost in the feeling and carried away by the smell of fuck-ass...that that
hot, raw, not-quite-shit smell that drives us insane.

I mean, just look at him in that picture. Beautiful boy, that Wyatt. Not
model beautiful, just beautiful real. Those big ears of his make my cock
hard and start me leaking instantly. Oh God, do I love a boy whose ears are
just a little too big for their head, or even ears that just stick out a
bit. It drives me crazy with real-boy fuck-lust. Just the fact that he's
sweet and geeky-sexy looking with his little glasses and his silly-sexy
messy hair makes me want to smell his stinky little crinkle even more. Real
boy. Real butt. Real ass stink. Just fucking cock-leakingly real, all
around. I love it. I love him.

I love boys like Wyatt who have that wild, unruly hair or seem to have too
much hair for their heads. It makes them seem all the more natural and
unwashed, not in a gross, rolled in mud and cow-shit way, but just in the
way little boys are. That day-old, skipped the evening bath sweet
stinkiness that we can't seem to get away from. I know it drives my lust
when I see them, and it certainly makes me crazy to think about smelling
those damp, streaky underpants or the hot, musky valley that guards their
little pussy pucker.

I even envision that lucky day, smelling his underpants. He'll go down to
the lake to swim, and I'll be the lucky one, staying behind in the cabin to
gather up the boys' dirty laundry. His undies will be on his bunk, casually
tossed-aside. His perfect faint, skid-tracked undies will be right there on
the bunk. I'll snatch them up seconds after he changes, and huff his ass
print right off his stinky little dreamcatchers. And oh, mother of pearl,
what a sweet-stinky little butt treasure that'll be.

It'll be fresh 100% boy-ass perfume...the powerful, pungent smell of
Wyatt's ass. No soaps, powders or body washes to interfere. He's here at
camp, and clean clothes don't matter. He's had them on for three days now,
and as I stand there huffing, all I can smell is the raw, pure stink of a
boy's wrinkled pucker, his most secret intimate place. And that smell is
fucking my brain. And know what it would make me do. It would make me say,
fuck common sense, and I'd just stand there in the empty bunk room smelling
him. I'd take my cock out. I'd jack off uncontrollably. Fuck. What I
wouldn't give to be standing side by side with you smelling Wyatt's rainbow
streaked panties while we jacked off together and told each other how good
this was...smelling the piss, the musk, the magic peanut-butter streak of
Wyatt's greasy-clear and honey-sour grease smear, transformed poop that
became pure magic. Here are your instructions, Wyatt, and they're simple
and clear: poop, don't wipe good, and just add time. That's all it takes,
baby boy, to turn your poop into magic.

Wyatt's not even the cutest boy in the camp. Definitely not Shutterstock
model boy material. But just the fact that he is a real boy and I dream of
sniffing his real, hot, steaming fresh asshole through his hot white Fruit
of the Loom little pussy panties, makes him incredibly hot to me. HOT
beyond model hot, because he moves right to the top of my must-do list:
real boy, real ass, really-wanna-smell-it, fuck-cock-drip-leak REAL. I love
that kid. Like my old friend Mike once said to me – one of many
stink-loving boy camp counselors I've met through the years, "Man, I'd eat
a mile of that kid's shit to see where it came from."

So in this picture of Wyatt with the hot dog, like I said, I'm hot as hell
for Wyatt's messy hair and his slightly-too-big ears, like handles for the
face-fuck I'm sure to give him. And he knows it! Just look at the way he
has tucked his chin down just a bit and is looking up at me with mischief
in his eyes. I can see his little 12-year-old boycock start to push out the
front of his shorts.

I want to strip off all his clothes, except for his dirty camp briefs, not
changed for three days now, and sniff him all over. Those moist boy pits
that have just the right level of stink from his hike today. His feet, God,
they have that "sweaty been on the trail in my sneakers all day" smell with
just a hint of blue cheese.

His crotch is redolent with the fumes of musk and yeast and piss. He
doesn't ever shake that little wiener when he finishes peeing in the
woods. He lets that pretty babycock drip dry in his undies. The last salty
drops you'd love to have on your tongue, he saves them for you in his undie
cloth instead. You can't sip them from his straw, but you can mix them with
your spit and suck them clean later. That crotch fabric will be clean as
whistle again by the time you get through gnawing and sucking on it.

Wyatt'ss 12-year-old ass is ripe and rich, much more sour than sweet, with
a nice brown streak you can see right through the cloth. With this boy you
peel down those shorts and bury your face in the suffocating stink and eat
his hairless pussy until there is no more slick stickiness left, and he's
moaning and groaning for you to suck his cock. Who am I to deny his
whimpering request? So, I roll him over to suck that four-inch spike until
he squeezes out a couple of drops of clear boy honey from his nuts; sweet
and just a bit nutty. Whew.

Or maybe he's sitting in my lap, and God, look at that hair. I want to bury
my face in that hair and huff the smell of sweaty camper boy, with just a
hint of his Axe shampoo. He giggles when I smell his hair, a giggle that
turns into a hissing intake of breath when I start kissing and nuzzling the
sweaty, salty skin of his neck.

He presses his back in against my chest and turns his head and looks up at
me, his lips parting, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he get more
and more excited. I lean down and kiss those sweet lips, pressing my tongue
into his little mouth, tasting the peppermint gum he's just been
chewing. He's moaning and grunting through the kiss as I slip my hand down
into his shorts and begin to masturbate his moist, hard little spike.

I mean, just look at him in that picture eating a hot dog. Jaw open
wide. Eyes tilted toward the camera, knowing how hot he looks and not even
giving a shit. He's almost daring us to throw him down on the bed and
ravage him. He wants it, but he's trying to put on an "I could care less if
you fuck me" face.

After we strip him down, we'll work his ass from both directions. You can
start and the top of this crack, and I'll start at his taint, so
deliciously salty and sour. We'll meet in the middle and fight over who
gets to stick their tongue into that greasy-tight 12-year-old boy
pucker. Being ever the gentleman, I let you go first, but there is still
plenty of sticky, earthy, bitter magic there as I push my tongue past his
hole and into that furnace.

We have to fuck this boy, so we take happy turns long-dicking that tight
pussy, making him whimper from the deep, necessary itch we're scratching
inside him, looking down at the need on his face – the need to be fucked
and possessed. He didn't know he needed it until we put it inside him. And
now he can't get enough of it. Who will cum on his face and who will cum in
his ass?

Let's feed him two more hot dogs and find out.

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17. TRANSFORMATION: SAMMY

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Your Sammy is six, and you watch him on the playground from a bench with a
book, your eyes and your smile dart up steadily, locked-on and loving,
following his sweaty little form as he laughs and plays with the other
children he found today; the sweet, instant friendships of childhood in the
park. You take him all in: his mop of brown hair, his piercing eyes so
brown they're almost black, his smile and his baby teeth (he hasn't yet
lost one), his long, dirty fingers from playing so hard, just now losing
their pudgy baby fat, his slender, pencil scarecrow arms, creamy testaments
to the perfect, lithe skinniness of boyhood which is an effortless
endeavor. He's wearing his red Black Guard pullover shirt with the thick
black piping on the sleeves and non-matching shorts of goldenrod and pastel
blue, a plaid pattern so geeky and nerdy that only Grandma could have
picked it out. You smile to yourself at how sweetly he doesn't match today,
knowing it means that Sammy dressed himself.

At six, Sammy is all boy, doing the things and making the smells that all
boys do. His underwear smells fragrant and rich as you stand gratefully at
his hamper in the morning, your senses dancing in the variety of nose candy
-- the maple-fresh breeze of nostalgic, day-old piss drops in the front,
sometimes with accompanying yellow handiwork, sometimes not, but always
with a pungent-honey-urine smell that would make Mrs. Butterworth herself
come to life in the bottle, putting her hands to her mouth in the sweetest
surprise, saying, "Oh, Sammy! Oh!"

You watch him on the playground, already knowing he's wearing the Lego
Ninjago undies you'll sniff in the morning -- because, that's what Sammy
does, much to your delight -- he plays all day, sleeps in them at night
under his clean pj's, then sheds them the next morning in favor of a fresh
pair when he changes for school. By then, the undies he's wearing now on
the playground will be at their very-best fragrance, his topmost effort -
the swipes and stripes and gentle brown rainbows in the seat smelling like
earth and musk and ass and boyplay -- a dance of young flavors -- a hip-hop
of rhymes and rhythm that bring to mind a whole menu of comparisons and
compositions -- sour things like citrus and fruit, like white wine and
vinegar, creamy french dressing, and the puff of stale salty air when you
open a new bag of potato chips -- but then also sweet and heavy scents
underneath like cheddar cheese and eggnog, stinky things like feta and
parmesan, a myriad of marvels you press to your nose after he leaves in the
morning, eyes closed, standing at the hamper, inhaling deeply, grateful
long hits of magical Sammy-stink, every day stunned he can do this so well
and so deeply.

How amazing that Sammy can take such a common and plentiful resource -- his
own stinky, silly kiddie poop -- and with one angelic, non-caring,
perfunctory swipe of his anus after he's done going potty, his magic Easy
Bake Oven will turn it into a greasy paste so sublime and delicious by the
time you sniff it on his undies 12 hours later, it's almost as if he's
pulled off a tiny miracle, a stinky little fairy tale; like Rumpelstiltskin
helping the miller's daughter spin straw into gold. When the miller's
daughter guesses his name, Rumpelstiltskin gets so incensed, he stomps his
right foot into the ground up to his waist, grabs his left foot, and
shaking and steaming, tears himself in two. And you almost understand his
level of agitation as you stand there sniffing Sammy's soiled
boy-bottom. When that first whiff of virgin-sweet boy-ass hits your nose in
the morning, you shake and you quiver like a fairy tale imp, your heart
misses beats, and you're filled with the same agitation Rumpelstiltskin
must have felt, only yours is not anger, yours is steam and tingles and
huff-happy fireflies of the highest order, the most profound kind, as you
stand their quivering, inhaling his boy stink.

You pull down your pants as you stand there smelling his undies with the
tiny stripe in the back. So much scent from such a little stripe. You pull
down your undies, and free your hard cock and you start to masturbate. You
inhale to the point where your eyes almost water. Maybe from the pungency
of the smell, maybe from tears of gratitude. Maybe both. God, it's
confusing. It's not quite sexual, what you feel for your son. It's
definitely in some sexual subcategory you don't quite understand yet, but
it's not the same as penetrative desire. As hard as your dick is while you
stand there and stroke it, moaning from the smell of him (and you know this
will make you cum; it does all the time), you still know for a fact you
have no desire to put your penis in your son's tiny bottom. That's not what
this is at all. Do you want to smell him? Directly from the source? Just
put your nose in his naked ass and smell him and smell him and smell him
and smell him, directly from his anus? Of course you do. But you never
will.

You don't want to hurt him. You never want to "weird him out" by all
this. No, this is not sexual in a way that ever needs to involve him
directly. This is just the deep appreciation of his scent and his
essence. You're inhaling his boyhood and meeting the time-backwards needs
of your own perplexing wiring. Reliving the same little-boy ass smell you
shared with little playmates when you were his age, or not much older,
playing in secret and discovering what little boys smelled like for the
very first time. Their bottoms, their buttons, the honey-sour anus-stars
that became your focal point when you think back to the naughty-wild games
of such a happy childhood.

This is special, this secret sniffing of Sammy's undies. It is sexual in
your past but not in your present. Does that make sense? His are the undies
of your little naughty friends. They take you back. They fill your life
with lust and lungpower, in a secret, private way that doesn't alarm him,
doesn't affect Sammy in the least, and doesn't interfere with the pure,
growing beauty of his boyhood. For you, this is arousing, enticing,
erecting and maddening -- a sweet indulgence and a cum-exploding taboo --
but when all is said and done, it doesn't harm Sammy in the least. He is
blissfully unaware of all this as you watch him climb the monkey bars, a
satisfied part of your mind is thinking, "Oh sweet, beautiful boy, I
already know what your stinky little bottom smells like," I'll never-ever
tell you, but thank you for this private, most intimate knowledge of
you. Just one more way to know you better in all your blissful, imperfect
perfection. As you stand there sniffing and shooting your semen, the
secret, taboo delight of knowing this very-most private part of him is what
makes it so arousing and so magically fulfilling.

"Rumple...stiltskin..." you grunt quietly, as your semen shoots out and you
catch it in his rainbow stripe, mixing it up with the magic mingle of him,
man and boy, turning cream into tan.

What will happen when Sammy grows older? When that cute, stinky purity of
teddy-bear boy-ass is replaced by the bleachy new-cum-scent of hot hormonal
boy sweat? Of pubes and cock and unwashed tween-ass of an entirely
different level? When sweet little Sammy becomes a pubescent boy of 11 and
12 and 13 and 14, playing baseball at team level, playing football and
trapping that cotton-wet undie fabric in the stinky-hot jam of his dirty
little big-boy crack, running hot, sweaty cross-country races or riding
ass-buzzing motocross, or jamming a bike seat up his ass for 10K, or mowing
the lawn until sweat drips into his crotch like a sponge?

Until his boy-fashion boxer briefs are almost pure liquid when he takes
them off? When you're faced with a new supply of those reeking, dripping
sweaty undies and jock straps? When he's no longer filling his undies with
tiny little playground rainbows, but tearing them to shreds with boners and
pheromones? What then, when Sammy is Sam? Will it all be so innocent? Or
will your cock be leaking for him in different ways?

Many years to think of that. Or not so many, maybe. But today on the
playground you watch him climb, and he smiles and he waves. And you smile
and you wave back. And you watch his stinky bottom as it wiggles up the
monkey bars, already appreciating what it'll create for you by the morning:
those secret sniffs of Sammy, precious and eternal, secret and exciting,
wrong but harmless, knowing they're something you need and you won't let go
of tomorrow, as you close your eyes and you think of your son and you
inhale the sweet stinky pucker-place that makes him a boy. Thank you,
Sammy. Thank you for all of this.

Sammy's a good boy, everybody.

Everybody meet Sammy.

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18. THEATRICAL: HARRISON

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One of the things that I love about being part of a theater company is the
theater kids. I love getting to act on stage with them and seeing the
excitement and enthusiasm that they bring to every performance....and I
love watching them grow, learn and mature as little actors every time we
take the stage.

You can see them watching your every move.....learning from you from the
moment you enter the building to put on your makeup, up until the last bit
of dialogue is spoken or note is sung. You want to be a good role model and
help them learn in a nurturing environment, but the dirty little secret is
that I am watching them too........caught between those two worlds of love
and lust........

His name was Harrison and he was one of our theater kids. I had been in
several shows with him and he was definitely a handful. As is so often the
case, his parents used the theater as their babysitter, dumping him at
rehearsal or at the theater on performance nights... glad to be free of him
for another evening. I will never understand why people want to be parents
and then pretend as if their kids don't exist as little human beings that
need love and attention.

Harrison wasn't a bad kid, just desperately in need of attention. And the
only way he knew how to express it was to be a hurricane of
energy....always loud and buzzing around the adults like a pesky mosquito.
Most of the other actors just tolerated his presence and would brush him
off at the first opportunity, but being the softie that I am, I couldn't
ignore the boy.

So despite having my own tasks to focus on (like getting into makeup and
costume or reviewing my lines) I always tried to be nice to him and chat
with him whenever I could spare a minute. Naturally, he was drawn to that
little bit of attention that I directed his way and he became my little
shadow whenever we were together.

He was about 11 and a half years old and looked like your typical boy. He
was always dressed a little poorly because mom was obviously not really
interested or concerned with what he looked like when he left the house.

I am sure to many boylovers, he would not have garnered a second look
because he was not some model of perfection, but I was captivated. He was
about 5' 5" and would not have been considered skinny. Now, by no means was
Harrison chubby, I just mean that he still had just a bit of baby fat on
his frame...just enough to make him healthy looking and cuddly.

But the thing that most captured my attention were his hair and eyes. He
had very light brown hair with just a hint of reddish highlights and it was
coarse and bushy. The kid had a lot of hair on his head, but it was that
hair that made him seem so much more wild and exciting to me. And his
eyes.......they were hazel in color and when you were talking with him (or
he was talking with you) those eyes would never leave your eyes..........he
would lock eyes with you and I swear he could see into your soul. So yeah,
I was smitten with this wild child.

He would sit in my dressing room and chatter away like a little magpie
while I would put on my makeup every evening before the show. He had tons
of questions about why I used a particular color, or why I was putting
powder on top of the foundation. I found it sort of charming because he
really did want to learn. Two or three shows into the run of this
particular musical, Harrison decided he wanted me to do his makeup (I swear
on a stack of bibles this is true). He was playing a street urchin and
wanted to have a dirty face and bad teeth. How could I refuse him.....on
the one hand, I wanted to help him learn his craft, but on the other, it
was a chance to touch that sweet little face.

And so I began to apply the makeup to his face....oh god, it was like
electricity when I touched his skin....using my fingertips to apply the
smears and smudges to his cheeks, chin and forehead.......with him looking
up at me with those hazel eyes the entire time. He wanted to have me turn
his teeth yellow and blackout two or three....so he opened his mouth and
let me put my fingers into that warm, moist cavity to wipe away the saliva
so that the tooth-black would adhere and dry.

I shiver now to think how it felt to run my fingers across his
teeth. brushing up against his lips.....and his breath......oh God....that
sweet boy breath. My face was only inches from his and I could feel that
hot, moist air from him mouth filling my nostrils. It was as if I was
breathing in all the air he was exhaling. It smelled like sour apple jolly
rancher candy, which is what he was always eating.

It was all I could do not to just lean in and kiss those lips and suck
every morsel of flavor out of his oral cavity. He was so
trusting.....giggling every now and then when my fingers tickled his
lips.......just looking up into my eyes while I practically raped his mouth
with my fingers and my mind......I applied the makeup as slowly as I
could....prolonging the time I had to touch and caress his face and
lips. But alas, all too soon I was done and told him to look in the mirror.

You could see the thrill in his eyes when he saw that little urchin face
looking back at him from the mirror....and he threw his arms around my
waist and gave me a hug, burying his head in my chest. Almost without
thinking, I lowered my face down into that unruly mop of hair and breathed
in his scent. I could smell heat....I could smell sweat.....I could smell
the dirty wildness at the root of every hair.....I was unable to pull my
nose from this boy's hair and my body was responding uncontrollably.

I was sporting a boner almost from the moment that wildness reached my
nose....thank god for tight underwear that evening or otherwise I would
have poked a hole in his tummy with my hard dick. I don't know how he could
not have noticed, but if he did, he didn't react. He continue to hug me
tightly until I pulled away and told him he needed to go and get his body
mike and transmitter.

He rushed off to the sound room and I quickly tried to catch my breath and
rearrange my throbbing, leaking cock so it wouldn't be so obvious. Harrison
came running back with his mike and transmitter and begged me to show him
how to wear it. I wasn't going to refuse this boy any request, so I put the
mike up in his hairline and secured it with the elastic headband.

The transmitter needed to be clipped inside the waistband of his pants (how
perfectly opportune is that) so I told him to turn around so I could clip
it inside his pants. With my hands trembling I eased my hands down into the
elastic waistband of his pants and pretended to fumble with the transmitter
clip...all the while using my free hand to rub up and down the
cloth-covered cheeks of his little ass, dragging my index finger up the
valley between his two cheeks. I could feel the heat that was pouring out
of his crack....I was quickly losing my mind and wanted nothing more than
to rip down his pant and underwear and slam my face into that unmolested
crevice of boyass.

I was jerked back to reality by Harrison twitching just a little and
giggling. "Hey....that tickles" he said but didn't pull away in the least.
Rather he just turned around and gave me another hug, thanking me for
helping him out. I swear I felt just the hint of a little boner pressing
against my left leg as he hugged me.

Somehow....some way, I made it through that performance, but every time I
saw Harrison on stage, it was all I could do not to pop a boner thinking
about that sweet little ass on stage in front of God and country. Of
course, I could not wait to get to the theater the next evening,
anticipating seeing Harrison again, but also a little worried that he might
pull back from me after my touching of his ass. To my surprise and delight,
as soon as he saw me in my dressing room, he ran up and threw his arms
around my waist and chirped out a happy "Hello Mark"....so I hugged him
back just as enthusiastically letting my hands slide down his back to cup
and squeeze his butt cheeks.

This time there was a distinct reaction from Harrison....he pushed his
backside ever so slightly back into my hands and then pushed his immature
groin up against my leg. There was no mistaking the feel of his little
boner pressing into me and so I leaned down and told him to go and get his
microphone and transmitter so I could put it on him.  He dashed off and
returned almost immediately, seeming so eager to have a repeat of the
previous evenings routine.

Out of a sense of precaution, I closed and locked the dressing room door
and moved around behind him. This time while I was attaching the
transmitter clip to the waistband of his pant, I was more deliberate and
brazen about running my free hand across the outside of his briefs and
dragging my index finger repeatedly up and down his crack.

Again, he giggled a bit, but pushed back against my hand, wanting more
contact. In for a penny, in for a pound, I gave up all pretense of
adjusting the transmitter and eased my right hand down past the waistband
of his FOTL undies and cupped that smooth, tight asscheek, letting my index
finger begin to penetrate between the cheeks and search out his sweet
little pucker. I buried my face in his hair so I could huff the smell of
Harrison...that wild, sweaty smell while my finger moved deeper into that
moist valley of boy flesh.

I could feel the slick stickiness of the boy butter that lined his
crack....you know what I am talking about.....that mysterious mixture of
sweat, the faint leftover smear of peanut butter tan over his hole and the
natural secretions of his ass crack.....all combined to make this slick,
greasy smear that lined his crack. When my finger tip touched his most
intimate place, that tight little wrinkle buried in between hot ass cheeks,
he squeaked and jumped just a little, but did not pull away. He just buried
his face tighter against my chest, as if giving me the green light to
continue. And continue I did....I began to slowly rub my finger across
those wrinkly folds of flesh, stimulating all the nerve ending is his
little pussy......nerve ending he didn't even know were there prior to this
night.

By now I could hear the faintest little whimpers coming from Harrison and
instinct was taking over as he began to rub his pant-covered boner against
my leg. There was no stopping at this point and I began to apply the
pressure of my fingertip against his opening...there was no need for
additional lubrication...that greasy, sticky boy butter from his ass made
my finger slippery enough to ease into his furnace of a pussy, millimeter
by millimeter.

Oh God.....he was so incredibly tight that I had to go so very slowly. I
wanted nothing more that to shove my finger all the way up into him and
bust that virgin hole open, but I still had one or two brain cells
functioning rationally and was able to restrain my lust, at least a bit.

With agonizing slowness, my finger began to slip up into this boy's most
private and intimate parts....I could feel the heat pouring off his hole
and feel the smooth slickness of his sphincter as I continued to penetrate
his ass with my finger. He was very still at this point, almost holding his
breath...unsure of exactly what was going to happen next, but unable or
unwilling to tell me to stop.

The only sound was a soft grunt...a little bit of an exhale of breath when
my finger finally pushed past his muscle ring and touched the smooth, slick
walls of the inside of his pussy pit. Once past the gates, I began to
slowly finger his ass, pushing up into him past the second knuckle causing
him to raise up a bit onto his toes as he tried to process these new
feelings coursing through his body and little boy dick. He was now totally
focused on the feeling pulsing through his ass and his cock and as I
increased the speed with which I moved the length of my finger in and out
of his hole.....finger fucking his tight little boy pussy for the very
first time.

He began to alternate between pushing himself back onto my finger and
pressing his crotch into my leg.....breathing faster and faster, whimpering
and moaning every time the good feelings overwhelmed him. I just hugged him
tighter to my chest and continued my assault on his hole until I felt him
shudder and his cunt muscles reflexively squeeze my finger in a death
grip. My little Harrison has just cum from my finger fucking his hole.

Knowing he was going to be in a post-orgasmic stupor for just a bit, I
pulled my finger from his ass and did the only reasonable thing.......I
brought that greasy, sticky dirty finger up to my nose and breathed in the
essence of boy. Sweet fucking hell.......I shuddered when those scents
penetrated my nose....the smell of boy
ass.....sweaty....raw....musky....dark and earthy.....it was the natural
smell of an unwashed boy hole, not polluted by body washes or perfumed
soaps....this was the smell of his secret flesh pit. I think I blacked out
for a moment, huffing my tacky finger.....lost in the sweet stink from his
ass....rubbing that boy butter up against my nose and upper lip so that I
could smell him forever.

"Mark"...."Mark".....through my fog of hotness, I hear Harrison saying
something. He was looking up at me, a look of confusion and fear on his
face and tears were leaking out of the corners of his eyes. " Am I in
trouble"..."Are you going to tell on me"...he said. Oh God, the innocence
of boys. I was the one who should be in trouble!!

I dropped to my knees and looked him in the eyes and told him that
everything would be okay....that if he liked what we did and it felt good,
there was no need to worry.....that I loved him and wouldn't do anything he
didn't want me to do. He seemed to accept that I was being truthful with
him and the tears quickly dried up. At this point I was madly in lust and
needed to possess this boy. I told him that we were going to have a bit
more fun and that if he wanted me to stop at any point to just tell me to
stop and I would. I figured that if I got him worked up enough I could have
my way with him.

I quickly pulled off his sweater and pants and left him standing there in
his FOTL undies and socks. His undies were well worn, with a bit of fraying
around the waist band and obviously at least one size too small....they
hugged his little crotch perfectly.

His little cock was still half hard and poking out the slightly yellowed
front of this underwear. He had just the most perfect layer of baby fat
around his tummy that just set off rockets in my brain. I was unable to
stop myself from burying my face into this crotch and inhaling the
cock-stiffening scent of boy crotch........all trapped so beautifully in
the cotton fibers......the first thing that hit me was the smell of dried
piss and sweat filling up my head...causing me to breathe more rapidly.

Lust was driving me at this point and I quickly pulled down his undies and
pressed my face up against that sweet little cock and balls. He was as
normal as you would expect.... a lovely pink boy nail, only a little
thicker than my thumb and between 3 and 4 hard inches....a smooth, hairless
little nut sack tucked up tight against his bod with acorns that looked
like they might be ready to drop from the tree any day.....so yes, he was
normal, but to me he was beauty personified.

Up against that moist, smooth skin the smells were stronger.....the maple
and vinegar of dried piss...the yeastiness of rising bread dough and just a
little bit of that muskiness that will only grow more powerful when he hits
puberty.  I could have died happy with my face flush against that smooth
little pubis, but I could smell the darker and richer scents of his
backside teasing me as I nuzzled his nuts and taint.

Getting no resistance from Harrison who seemed to be lost in his own haze,
taking in all the new sensations his body was experiencing, I picked him up
and laid him down on the dressing room table and pulled his undies off
completely and pushed his little legs up causing his cheeks to spread apart
and exposing that tan-smeared wrinkle to my eyes.

This is that moment of truth....that moment just before you press your face
into a boy's ass....that moment just before you kiss his most secret and
intimate place.....that moment before you eat his pussy and taste what
makes him a boy...that moment when he begs for more and you know that you
possess him......that moment that seems frozen in time. I was in that
moment....looking down at Harrison's trusting eyes, eyes that were a little
glazed over with sexual fogginess...looking between his legs beneath that
sweet little cock and balls to the ultimate prize....that pucker of
slightly moist flesh....the place where you will claim him as your own.

I could smell the heat and scent rising from that pit of flesh......the
tang of boy pussy in its purest form. I breathed in and shivered....letting
the odor penetrate my brain and block out everything else. My cock was in a
painful state at this point, leaking precum and soaking my
underwear...balls aching from the need for release.....but all that was
secondary to joining my mouth to his ass and eating the essence of
Harrison. I pressed my face into that crack....oh God...it was so hot and
moist...my own breath mixed with the stink of his ass and intensified the
assault on my nose.

I pushed my nose against his pucker.....feeling the slickness of that glaze
of boy butter....it was so fucking raw and unwashed....it smelled of
overripe fruit and musk.....wet earth and sweat.....sharp and tangy and
acidic......I was mad with lust and pressed my lips against that stinky boy
pussy and ran my tongue across those puffy fold of flesh...feeling the
flavor of boy explode across my tongue...it was even stronger than the
scents.......it was sour....salty.....vinegary.....bitter.....it was pure
boy ass.

I pushed my tongue against the center of his flesh ring, trying to slide my
tongue into the hot center of his being.....pushing my tongue against it
and sucking on that flesh wrinkle as if I were trying to french kiss that
sweet boy pussy. Harrison was not passive during my frantic oral
exploration of his pussy pit...he continue to grunt and moan...occasionally
pushing his ass back against me when I hit a particularly sensitive spot.

I dragged my nose and mouth up and down his crack...from the small of his
back to his little nut sack...snorting in his stink and slobbering over his
hole like a man starving.....I had intended to possess him, but I was the
one possessed....possessed by this boy's scent and stink. My jaw and tongue
begin to ache from the assault on his rubbery and resistant little ring,
that did not want to allow my tongue passage inside him....I could stand it
no longer.

I pulled back from his sweet stinkpit and quickly unbuckled and shed my
pant and underwear. My cock was ready and slick with precum......I hoped
that between the ass grease in his hole, my saliva and the pre-cum covering
the head of my cock, it would be enough! I needed to fuck this boy and
wasn't going to stop by CVS for a bottle of lube before I poked him.  I
pushed his legs back up so that his hole was lined up with the head of my
cock....God, I could feel the heat pouring off that little passion
pit.....I pressed in against his hole.....it looked so small and tight now
that my cockhead was pressed up against it.....I was so worked up I nearly
came just from the physical contact of my dick against his pussy hole. I
kept up a steady pressure against his unyielding ring, but the head would
not penetrate that virgin flesh.

"Harrison....push out like you need to take a poop".......he responded by
pushing down and relaxing his sphincter ever so slightly.....oh fuck, the
tip of my dick was starting to penetrate the outer rim of his little boy
cunt. "Harrison......push harder baby.....keep pushing out".....he was
grunting a bit, but was a little trooper and never asked me to stop or slow
down, so I continued my assault on his ass.

He kept pushing and ever so slowly my head of my cock slipped past his
sphincter and lodged just inside his ass. We both groaned audibly.....him
from that combination of pain and pleasure....me from the same
combination. He was so hot and tight that it was almost painful to be
trapped in his pussy....that pussy that was about to me mine....about to be
filled with my spunk as I bred this boy. I pushed slowly until about half
of my cock was lodged in his ass.....I am not a big man...just a normal
sized cock (this not one of those 10" dick stories with a cock as big
around as a beer can) but it was still a lot of meat for Harrison to have
stuffed up his pooper for the first time.

I gave him a few minutes to adjust before I began a slow fuck of this boy
pussy. It was a selfish fuck.....I needed to claim this boy and his pussy
as my own and fill him with my seed.

It was hard not to slam-fuck him I was so lost in my own fog, but I managed
to slide my dick in and out of his tight ring a little faster with each
passing stroke....holy fuck...seeing the flesh of his ass cling to my dick
shaft as I pulled out each time.......I could smell his insides rolling up
off of our joined flesh....the smell of fucking...the smell of fucking a
boy......it is not the smell of shit, but it is so much richer and darker
that just the smell of his all alone... And that was the trigger for
me...........that fuck smell hit my nose like an 18 wheeler and I pushed up
into this little cunt and blasted my spunk against his slick insides.

I came like I had never cum before.....I don't mean that I shot buckets of
cum up his ass.....but I mean the intensity of the orgasm....knowing that I
was breeding Harrison....possessing his boy cunt..........fucking him and
making him mine......It was mind blowing......I collapsed on top of him and
let the aftershocks of the orgasm begin to subside and my cock slowly
slipped out of his pussy as it tried to expel the intruder.

As my breathing began to return to normal I kissed him softly on the
forehead and looked into his eyes.....eyes that were filled with wonder,
fear, shame, excitement...all the emotions that follow that first
fuck......and he whispered "please.....please don't stop..."

Harrison is a good boy everybody.

Everybody meet Harrison.

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19. CHRISTMAS: JOSH & JOEY

Twas the night before Christmas and all through their bed // The twins were
creating a buttery spread. // Young Josh in his boxers and Joey in briefs
// Were painting their puckers with greasy-sweet queefs.

Their jammies were hung by the chimney with care // While the smell of
young boyhole was warming the air. // And Brad in his kerchief and Mark in
his cap, // Were hoping for paste and a spackle of crap.

From the boys' rumbling bottoms arose such a clatter! // The gents knew at
once they were brewing some batter! // A stinker for Mark and a stinker for
Brad, // As they peeled down those panties to see what they had!

The moons, two abreast, like the new-fallen snow // Were creamy and dreamy
and ripe down below! // Their crinkles, how stinky! Their wrinkles so
merry! // The men started aching for taking of cherry!

With the thumbing of cheeks and the spreading of holes // The men sniffed
and snuffled and lubed up their poles. // A nose on each anus, the gents
they did linger. //Tore open those shitters and stuck in a finger!

Young Joey's was wet and young Josh's was sticky, // They both smelled like
stink-ass, but not at all icky. // They sniffed and they fingered and went
straight to work, // While they both reached around for a courtesy jerk.

The boys how they giggled, the boys how they cooed! // And then one of them
farted! How stinky! How rude! // But laying a finger aside of his nose //
Brad simply shrugged and said, "that's how it goes."

The boys gave a whimper, those sweet little moaners, // And pushed back
against them and sprung little boners. // And lubing their rectums and
lining up cocks, // They gents slid right in for the nicest of shocks.

Their stockings were stuffed and their cockings were deep // And they took
it like champs with a grunt and a peep. // And the men rutted deeply and
took a great care // To inhale and enjoy all the stink in the air.

"On Anus! On Rectum! On Greasy! On Stinky!" // "Just look how he grunts as
I fill him with dinky!" // "His cheeks are like roses! His rosebud's wide
open!" // "I'll give him six inches! He'll take it, here's hopin'!"

Mark's droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow // And he shouted to
Brad, "Holy crap! Gonna blow!" // And Brad, rutting deeply, that jolly old
elf // Was about to let loose with a jizz-load himself!

And Brad, when he came, started gritting his teeth // And the cum circled
Joey's hot hole like a wreath // And Josh's wide eyes and his round little
belly // All shook when Mark jizzed like a bowlful of jelly.

With asses now full and two tummies now sated // The boys drifted off,
feeling fresh-fucked and mated // And Brad wiped his cock off and Mark lent
a hand // As their penises throbbed, feeling happy and tanned.

They sprang to their feet, to the boys gave a whistle, // "Hey, thanks for
the stink while we played "Sink the Missile!" // The boys giggled dreamily,
sweetly, with sighs // As the two loads of man cum expelled down their
thighs.

The looked on the floor, and then what did they see, // But some undies for
M and some undies for B! // They were shit-smeared and stink-tracked, and
oh, holy hell! // It would take them through New Years, that heavenly
smell!

So, on their way out, like a true masturbator, // They snatched up those
panties to ruminate later. // And I heard Brad exclaim as they smiled at
their luck, // "Happy Christmas to all! And to all a good fuck!"

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20. CAUGHT: BRADEN

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I had known Melanie and Bryan for almost 15 years, having met them shortly
after their marriage through a mutual friend.  We hit it off immediately
and I soon became like a brother to both of them. I was over at their house
almost every week without fail and we shared all of the major events in our
lives together. Little Braden came along a little more than 10 years ago
and I was so excited for both my friends. In my eyes, he was the most
perfect little baby boy and I think I fell in love with the little guy
almost immediately.

As neither Melanie nor Bryan had any family close by, I became their
default babysitter whenever they had business commitments or just needed a
night out alone with each other. I certainly did not mind. I loved spending
time with Braden and doted on the kid.  He was a sweet little guy and he
loved his Uncle Mark.  He was a typical boy....all skinny arms and legs,
with the cutest little swell in his tummy just above the waistband of his
bikini briefs. For whatever reason, he never wore the standard Hanes
tighty-whities I grew up on, but rather always had some version of these
skimpy little briefs that left nothing to the imagination. They were always
tight and hugged his cute little boy cock and immature nut sack up against
his body.

There was never a doubt that Braden was circumcised as his thumb-sized
cockhead always seemed to be pushing out the front of those undies ever so
slightly. The briefs also cradled his sweet little ass cheeks and kept that
warm, moist valley of boyflesh sealed up tight, allowing it to brew some
mind-fucking dank and rich scents that were all Braden and the essence of
pure unwashed boyass.

But I am getting ahead of myself so take a deep breath and be patient. The
delicious, raunchy naughtiness is just around the corner. For those that
care about his physical characteristics beyond his nether regions, he was a
cute kid with medium brown hair that was a bit shaggy around his ears and
the purest, milky white skin........no freckles or blemishes. All-in-all he
looked like the typical boy-next-door, but perhaps that was what made him
so beautiful and desirable.  As he grew up, it became clear that Braden was
an affectionate and tactile child. He loved to snuggle and cuddle and it
seemed so important to him to be physically close to those that he
loved. Not that I would ever complain....I loved being with him, talking
with him and being interested in whatever he would be excited to tell me
each time he would see me.

I love having him sitting in my lap, clad in his little bikini-style undies
while I idly scratched his back or rubbed his tummy. Invariably there would
be some Disney movie on the TV that we both liked.....he was happy to be
held and loved and I was happy to have this precious little guy cradled
against my chest. I would often bury my head in his hair or into the crook
of his neck and just breathe in his scent....that unique smell that was all
Braden and all boy.  He hated to bathe with regularity and so there were
many times when I would get high on the sweet, sweaty smell of his hair or
the faint smell of something darker and richer rolling up from his nether
regions. I longed to explore that smell between his sweet little buttcheeks
more thoroughly. Little did I know the opportunity to further my journey
down the path to his moist valley was not far in the future.

As time passed, and as often happens, life gets more complicated and begins
to affect our priorities. That was certainly true for both Melanie and
Bryan. They were doing so well in their careers and had so many outside
interests that at times it seemed as if Braden was an afterthought. The
ordered their lives around themselves and never put his interests or
desires first.

For Braden this was a terrible situation and it broke my heart that they
could not see him wilting under their inattention. So I did what I could to
step in and give him the attention and love he craved. I would go to his
soccer games whenever I could and spent untold hours playing board games
and video games with him. We were best buddies and he called me his pal! It
was during this time that our relationship changed dramatically.

It was a Thursday evening and I had brought Braden back to his house after
a soccer game and was throwing together a simple meal for him. His parents
were out again at some business function and just naturally defaulted to me
to care for their son. I was busy in the kitchen making him a PB&J
sandwich....his favorite...and watching him in the family room where he was
playing some video game on his iPad mini.

As I watched him, he was idly scratching his little sweaty crack, something
he did at lot, especially if he had not bathed that morning before
school. So it was not unusual to see the little guy scratch his ass....but
what happened next made my cock convert into steel in an instant. When he
finished scratching, he brought his index finger up to his nose and
breathed in, smelling the stink of his unwashed boy pussy on the end of his
finger.

This was no casual little sniff, but a prolonged exploration of the dark
and naughty stink on the end of his finger. He moved his finger back to his
crack for another quick scratch and brought that finger back up to his nose
so I knew that this was not just an accidental thing, but rather something
purposeful on Braden's part.

As he was sniffing his finger for the second time, he happened to look
toward the kitchen and saw me staring directly at him and that ass-scented
finger. He knew he was busted and immediately blushed a bright pink from
embarrassment , lowered his eyes and begin to softly cry. I was a mess of
conflicting emotions....a raging lust to be smelling that finger with
Braden and an ache in my heart at seeing him embarrassed and hurt.

He immediately began to say he was sorry and plead with me not to tell his
parents. He thought he was in major trouble, so I rushed to his side and
hugged him to my chest and told him that it was okay....his little secret
was safe with me. I don't think he was totally convinced as he continued to
cry so I told him that lots of little boys like to smell their stinky
fingers....that even his Uncle Mark liked that smell.

He jerked his head back from my chest, a look of confusion and shame still
on his face. Naturally he thought I was teasing him...and in a cruel way in
his mind. So to convince him, I grabbed his dirty, stinky little index
finger and brought it up to my nose and breathed in Braden's most private
and secret scent. There was a physical shudder in my body as my nose
registered the faint tang of boy pussy that was left on his finger. I know
that I groaned audibly...unable to contain the electrical shock coursing
through my body and shooting through my hard cock.

Recognition and understanding was beginning to register in Braden's brain,
but he was still halfway convinced that this was some sort of trick or joke
to rat him out. To convince him, I took his little finger and stuck it back
into his hot moist crack, rubbed the tip across his hidden stinky little
flesh wrinkle and brought it back up to my nose for a healthy sniff.....oh
fuck, I think I saw stars because the smell was stronger this time...a
deeper, darker smell that was pure boyass.

I was pulled from my olfactory reverie by a sweet little giggle from
Braden. He was looking up at me with a just the hint of a smile and asked
me in a quiet, shy voice if I liked his stink too. My world shrank down to
nothing but that little boy and his deliciously naughty question. In that
moment, perhaps caught off guard by his frankness, I answered as honestly
as I could. "God yes, Braden, I love your stink. I love everything about
you and the way you smell...it is a part of what make you you." And I
pulled his stinky little finger back up to my nose.

After that first little incident catching Braden sniffing his finger, he
remained skeptical that I was serious about loving his smell and that he
had no reason to be embarrassed. I could tell he was still very shy about
the entire topic and so I didn't force the issue. I just carried on as if
everything were the same between us and treated him as the loved little boy
that he was.

We continued to play video games and kick the soccer ball around their back
yard. He loved the gentle roughhousing we often did because he was such a
tactile child and the physical contact was reassuring to him. Knowing that
he was still a bit embarrassed about my catching him playing a little stink
finger, I began to make a game of it to help convince him that I loved that
aspect of who he was. We would be wrestling on the floor and I would pin
him down and grab his perfect little rump roast and squeeze those cheeks
and pretend bite them.

I would always make a big show of sniffing loudly and saying that I smelled
stinky little Braden....this would always send him into a fit of
giggles. It was a win for both of us.....I got to take the occasional sniff
of his sweet little boy pussy and he grew more and more comfortable that I
really did like his stink.

It was one Sunday afternoon at the end of a nice, long three day
weekend. Melanie and Bryan had decided to take a last minute trip to the
west coast and had asked if I could look after Braden while they were
away. Of course, I could not refuse, so I had packed an overnight bag and
headed to their house to spend time with my best little buddy.

We had had fun playing board games, kicking the soccer ball around the yard
and just cuddling on the couch watching his favorite Disney movies. As I
said before Braden did not like taking baths.....it was almost as if he was
allergic to bathwater. I suppose he was not much different than I had been
as a young boy...or most young boys for that matter. Personal hygiene was
not at the top of their priority list. So by Sunday, three days of playing
hard, sweating and taking the occasional poop with only the perfunctory
swipe of his butt crack had left him a stinky little boy.

As we sat on the couch watching Toy Story for the 15th time, he was
snuggled in my lap in his undies and I was gently, somewhat idly stroking
his forearm and his little tummy. My nose was buried in his damp hair and I
was breathing deeply of the sweaty, sour smell of Braden's unwashed
scent. I think he knew I was smelling his hair because he would
occasionally push back against my chest and help bury my nose even deeper
in his hair. I loved this little boy, but I also lusted after his smell and
as I pulled away from his hair, I could smell the heat rising off of his
body.

I pressed my lips to his slender neck and gently kissed his sweaty, salty
skin while he quietly sighed and tilted his head to one side to give me
better access to his tender neck. He tasted so good I could not help but
give his neck the occasional lick, eliciting squeals and laughter from
Braden....he was loving this little game as much as I was.

I began to rub and scratch his back, moving my hand lower and lower until I
was gently rubbing and squeezing his little butt cheeks. His only response
was to wiggle slightly, as if to get more comfortable and press his back
against my chest. Feeling emboldened, I began to rub p and down his left
cheek letting my index finger begin to drag up and down his cloth-covered
crack. He didn't pull away or really move at all. It was as if he was
frozen in place trying to process what was happening and how he was
feeling. The only indication from him was a soft exhale of breath,
somewhere between a grunt and a squeak.

I continued to run my finger along the outside of his hot little crack and
whispered in his ear "Braden,,,,,can Uncle Mark smell your stink?" He was
quiet for the briefest of moments before slowing nodding his head up and
down, his little cheeks turning red with embarrassment. Taking my cues from
him, I began to ease my hand down inside his stinky little panties....my
hand sliding against the smooth, hot, slightly moist flesh of his ass.

I could feel the heat pouring out of his crack. At this point, I am not
sure I could have stopped my finger from penetrating the tight, sticky
crevice between his cheeks....as my finger breached those cheeks and slid
into that flesh valley of boy ass, I could feel the slickness and
stickiness there...the residue of sweat, the barest residue of poop from
his careless wiping and the natural secretions from his little boy
pussy.....all combined into a slick, tacky boy butter.

I pressed on until my finger touched his soft little wrinkle...his most
secret and intimate place. I could feel the sticky glaze coating those
little folds of skin and feel the burning heat emanating from his
hole. Braden stiffened in surprise...no one else has ever touched his poop
hole, but he did not pull away and so I massaged the circumference of his
stinky wrinkle, nearly filling my shorts with cum from just the sensation
of touching his little pussy.

"Braden.....I am going to smell your stink now? Is that okay?......He
responded immediately with a quiet nod and so I reluctantly pulled my
finger from his ass and brought it up to my nose. It was not the not the
casual smell of butt........it was the deep, dark, dank, nasty smell of
ripe, raw boy pussy...the smell that causes us all to hesitate because it
is so powerful, strong and nasty.

Yet we force that finger up to our nose anyway because we need to smell
this boy, to possess him in the only we that we know we can.....it was
musky and earthy, pungent and sour.......overcome with lust, I leaned
forward so that my finger was trapped between my nose and
Braden's...smearing that peanut butter ass grease on our nostrils. We were
huffing his stink together.......I don't think I could have stopped myself
at this point no matter what.

Dizzy with the smell of his little cunt, I pushed my hand back down into
his soiled panties and forced my index finger up against his little stink
wrinkle. Holding him in my lap, I whispered in his ear to push down on my
finger with his butt, like he was trying to poop. He grunted as he began to
strain and my finger, coated in his nasty ass grease began to slip past his
sphincter and slide into the scorching hot depths of his fuckhole.

He was caught off guard by the intrusion and the sudden stab of pain that
came with the stretching of his virgin ring. I gave him a minute to adjust
and when he didn't pull away, I began to slowly fuck my finger in and out
of his wet guts, grazing his little inner nut and causing him to groan in
pain and pleasure at the same time. I could smell his insides as my finger
violated his backside....this was the smell of a boy's ass opening
up....the smell that was driving me insane and to the point that I had to
fuck this angel.

I pulled my tan glazed finger out of his ass, eased him off of my lap and
lay him back on the couch, his heels pulled back against his cotton clad
backside and his knees falling to either side. God what a dick-achingly
beautiful sight.......legs spread, his immature sex already hard and
pushing against the yellow, piss-stained pouch of his undies.......and
under the small bulge of his little nut sack I could see the peanut butter
tan of his poop skids showing through in the center of the seat of those
briefs.

I couldn't help but run my hands up and down his soft, smooth thighs from
his kneecaps up to the very edge of the elastic in the leg hole of his
briefs. He love to be touched...this tactile little boy...and my gentle
stroking of his inner thighs caused him to moan ever so softly. The sound
was sweet music to my ears. And the smell.......holy fuck,......it was
rolling off of him like a fog bank from a river.  This was the intense, raw
stink of an unwashed boy.....sweat, crotch and ass all melding together to
cause me to shiver and force another bit of slimy precum from my cock.

Unable to resist this smelly little angel any longer, I eased myself down
by his side and brought my face close to his and gently stroked his flushed
cheek. "Braden...can Uncle Mark touch you again and make you feel good?"

He blushed, but I saw the hint of a smile on his face as he whispered a
quiet yes. With the green light in hand, I began to nuzzle his neck, again
smelling the sour sweat of his hair that continued to fuel my lust for
Braden. He was signing contentedly with his lips parted and I couldn't hold
back any longer. I pressed my mouth down on his and began to kiss him and
slide my tongue into that moist cavern.

His eyes widened and he grunted in surprise but did not pull back, but
rather tentatively pushed his tongue forward to touch mine......holy fuck
this kid was kissing me back. I could taste the faint remains of the
Hersey's chocolate bar he had eaten earlier that evening, but otherwise it
was hot wet boy mouth. He was moaning into my mouth and grinding his little
crotch up against my belly trying to take in all these feeling coursing
through his body. I knew that I had to have this boy and possess him
completely.

I pulled off his undies leaving him naked and vulnerable....laying there
looking up at me from the fog of his own arousal. I buried my face in his
bald crotch sniffing like a dog, sniffing the scent of dried piss on his
throbbing little dick and the sweaty, yeastiness down around his tight nut
sack.  I pulled his whole crotch, little 3 inch dick and nut sack into my
mouth and began to suck and lick off all the pissy, salty goodness there.

Braden responded by thrusting his little pubis up against me, trying to
bury himself deeper into my mouth...to increase the good feelings vibrating
out from his little stiffie.  But I could smell the darkness lurking down
below and pushed his legs back toward his ears and raised that wide open
rump up off the couch and brought my mouth down onto his peanut butter
glazed cunt hole. GOD...he was so fucking dirty back there....three days of
sweat and leftover poop, mixed with all the natural secretions of his
little pussy......I tore into his ass like a starving man.....licking and
sucking that rubbery cunt ring...tasting the bitterness and the sweet/sour
mixture that defines the tang of ripe boy pussy.

It was almost too powerful for me to handle, but Braden was whimpering like
a little puppy and I was too lost in the taste and smell of a dirty little
boy pussy, pushing my tongue against his hole, trying to force myself past
his muscle and taste his insides..... he was still so tight that I didn't
have the strength in my tongue to breach him, but I knew that his tightness
would not be a match for my aching hard cock.

I pulled back and spit all of that greasy, slimy boy butter down onto my
cock, already slick with precum and touched the head of my prick against
his impossibly little hole. I am not a big man, only average or otherwise I
might have done irreparable damage. As it was, I knew it was going to hurt
going in, but I couldn't stop. I leaned in applying steady pressure against
his defenseless little pussy, telling him to push out as hard as he
could. And it happened, those pussy lips stretched obscenely around the
head of my cock and I popped in past his outer ring.

He let out a groan of pain and I stopped, letting him try to get used to
the feeling of having a man's cock up his ass. To his credit, he never
asked me to stop, because even in my lust crazed haze, I am not sure I
could have forced myself on him if he wasn't willing.

He was so hot and tight that I thought he would pinch off the end of my
dick.  After what seemed like hours, although it was probably only a couple
of minutes I could feel him relax just a bit and I began to push up into
his moist, stinky guts. It was slow going but what blissful torture to
watch your cock sink into the fuckhole of a hot little angel.

I began a slow fuck in and out of his passion pit, feeling him jerk upward
every time my cockhead hit his little nut just right. His hole was more
open now and every time I pulled out, I could smell our fuck.....that
combined stink of my sex mixed with the gamey, meaty stink of his fucked
boy pussy.  God, I didn't know if I would suffocate in that stink or cum
first!!

He could smell it too. I watched him strain to inhale it. I watched his
neck and nose stretch to breathe in his own boy musk.

"I can smell it," he whispered. "I can smell us."

It was a good smell. It excited him to smell this.I could tell by his
voice, this excited him.

His cock wasn't hard. My dick was so big to him, it made his cock go
soft. I'd never smelled anything like this before. This was butt smell but
it was also deeper, wilder, earthier and muskier. This was the smell of
something good and dark and yeasty from deep inside him. This was what he
smells like inside.

He was smelling this for the first time in his life, and every time he had
sex from this moment on, every man who fucks him for the rest of his life,
this was the smell he'd look back on. That was where the bar would be
set. This is what he'd crave over and over and over again, every month,
every year for the rest of his life. To be fucked like this. To smell
exactly what this smelled like again. His ass. His insides. My hot,
plunging cock.

At this point, I knew I would not last long and would soon be breeding this
little boy with my spunk deep in his cunt so I picked up the pace and began
pushing myself deeper up into him...seeing him flushed from the stimulation
and grunting each time my cock pushed up against his insides.  I was
getting so close to a mind-shattering cum that I began to fuck him harder,
causing him to lose control of his bladder and spray hot, salty piss up in
my face on each thrust inward.

Oh fuck. I fucked him so deep he pissed himself. His limp little dick just
started spraying piss all over himself. All over me. It sprayed on my
face. It sprayed on his tummy. I felt it dribble back down between the
valley of his legs and ass, dribbling down between his legs where I was
fucking him.

Oh God, I was fucking him and cumming in him and plunging salty hot drips
of his own piss right up his own ass. Oh fuck, it smelled good. It was ass
and piss and boy cunt and cock, and it was all just a symphony of smells as
I fucked him wide open and stuck my wad up his hole.

The precious look on his face as you bred my hot love into him. How long
had I been saving this load for his sweet, sweet boy pussy? How long had I
needed to put this load in his pussy hole? Oh God, I never wanted to
stop. I just wanted to flood his insides with cum until it was shooting out
of his pecker. I wanted to flush him with my cum.

Fuck, he was shaking. Or was it me? I had no earthly idea. I just kissed
and licked and spasmed inside this beautiful piss-soaked, ass-dripping
beautiful little boy I finally mated with and made my own.

All I could think of was...Fuck. Rest. Sleep. And then wake him up with
more neck kisses and fuck him again. Oh, yes. Seal the deal and make him an
expert at this. Don't let him have time to reconsider if he went too
far. Rest for a little while but then wake up, and as soon as possible,
fuck him again.

I collapsed on top of this sweaty, fucked out little boy...smelling
him....smelling our fuck....and looked into his eyes, knowing he was
mine. This first fuck was only the beginning of our naughty little games
together.

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21. MAVERICK: KELLY

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I love going on basketball camp with the Maidenhead Mavericks.

It's not that I offer - I'm asked. It amazes me what a shortage there is of
parents and volunteers who are prepared to support the team and take the
boys on an annual camp.

I guess they don't like bunking down in less-than-home-comforts or perhaps
they have trouble falling to sleep with the prevailing aroma of young,
sweaty boys.

Not me.

I love going on camp. They'd couldn't pay me to stay away. Especially now
Kelly is 10.

I mean he was hot last year, and the year before. But this year. Fuck.

Last year, I spent two days trying to get my hands on his underpants, but
it never happened. There was never a good opportunity in the dorm rooms.
This year it's different. One leader and 4 boys in much smaller rooms.

How I love NOT to volunteer for some of the afternoon games. When I don't,
my responsibility is simply to get the boys to where they need to be. I
stay, mingle for a few minutes, feast my eyes on Kelly, get myself all
worked up about sniffing his underpants and then I casually walk back to my
empty room and start rummaging.

This year, I managed to get my hands on Kelly's sweet little stinky
undies. The ones he wore for the afternoon game under his white shorts. I
took a photo of him on my phone while he was playing basketball so I could
look at it back in my room when I sniffed his undies. It was 24 hours after
the game that my dream came true. As Kelly was out doing zip rope with the
other boys and leaders, I was in my room, going through his bag.

And there they were. In all their glory. The cutest, little stinky boy
undies you ever saw. The ones he was wearing during that hot and sweaty
game yesterday.

I gently held them in my hands - in awe of them and in awe of him. Was I
REALLY holding a pair of a 10yo boy's dirty little underpants?

Yes, I was.

And I couldn't wait to sniff them and sniff them hard, long and deep.
Right where his stinky little crack had been all day and during his game.

And they did not disappoint. Kelly may be the picture of innocence and
light, but whoooffff, that tangy little sweaty crack of his...maaaaaaaaan
did it stink.

It was pure, unadulterated musky boy stink, right form his sweaty little
anus.

I would've stroked my cock while I sniffed them but I didn't get the
chance. Looking at his photo on my phone and having waited over a year to
get my hands on his dirty undies, by the time I was 5 sniffs deep into his
smelly little crack, I was exploding. No touching necessary.

I LOVE the smell of Kelly's sweaty bottom. I could sniff his undies for
days.

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22. GYMNAST: JIMMY

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You are never really prepared to fall in love with a boy. It almost happens
without you noticing. You see a stunning little guy.....in the perfect age
range that fuels your libido......so incredibly hot that it makes your cock
ache and all you want to do is throw him down and bury your face in his
hot, sticky crack and huff up all the boy stink you can........or snuffle
his smooth little nut sack and taint, losing yourself in that sweaty,
yeasty crotch of his......that scent of boy that drives you mad.

You are thinking with your cock and your cock wants nothing more than to
penetrate that sticky wrinkle that protects his most private place....to
breach his muscle ring and slide into that wet, tight pussy and fuck the
cum out of both of you....to claim him as your own.

But then something happens....you get to know the boy and before you
realize it, he has charmed your heart and you have fallen in love with who
he is....his sweet little voice...the high pitched, joyous laughter of a
child that lifts your heart...his quirky, funny sense of humor......his
zest for life and all that is in it...his ability to love, pure and simple.

He steals your heart while you are not looking and then you are
lost.....lost in that chasm that exists between love and lust...that desire
to love and protect and that desire to satiate your fuck lust with the
hottest boy on the planet.  This is the story of just such a little
heart-stealer....his name is Jimmy.

Jimmy was Matt and Jenny's son and I had seen him when I went to soccer
games with my nephew Blake. The moment I saw him it was lust at first
sight. He was simply stunning. Oh, not in the "lovely curly blonde hair,
pink cheeks, blue eyes and five inch pecker way" that you so often read
about in stories...far from it. Jimmy was real and he was all boy.

He was a fit little kid, with the beginning hints of muscle from all the
soccer and gymnastics, not some pale, bony waif that hasn't eaten in weeks.
He had dark brown hair and the most incredible spray of freckles on his
nose and cheeks. His eyes were hazel.......or green depending on the light
and the cutest ears in the world. He was just the kind of 8 year old that
made me instantly hard.

Watching him run around the soccer field getting hot and sweaty, I imagined
what incredible ass stink would be cooking in that little behind as he
played his heart out. God, I wanted to yank down his shorts and bury my
face in that moist pit of a boy ass and smell his scent.  I needed to jam
my tongue against his dirty, sticky pucker and taste him, taste the most
intimate flavors of this boy.....taste pure, unwashed Jimmy ass funk.  It's
a miracle I didn't whip out my cock and jack right there in the
bleachers....this kid made me insane with lust.

As fortune would have it, Blake and Jimmy became friends, as little kids
are inclined to do and by extension I became friends with Jimmy and his
parents. As the weeks and months passed and I got to know that family, I
became fascinated with Jimmy. He was such an incredible kid...well
mannered......at times boisterous like all boys are inclined to be.

But he could also be shy and sensitive, with a zest for life that was
intoxicating. He loved sports and the arts and he loved cartoons!!! This
was kid after my own heart.  Soon we were conversing about "Phineas and
Ferb" like old buddies.  I was accepted into the clan as Uncle Mark and
began to attend his gymnastic meets, as well as the soccer games that he
and Blake played in. I even became one of Jenny's go-to sitters, whenever
she and hubby needed a night out without the kids.

One Thursday evening, Matt and Jenny planned to have an early dinner in
town and catch a show, so I agreed to pick up Jimmy from gymnastics and
look after him for the evening.  He bounced into the car, full of energy,
excited to tell me about all that had happened during his session. I loved
hearing him chatter on, but at the same time, I was perving over the hot,
sweaty little guy sitting in the passenger's seat, clad only in his tight
gymnastic outfit.....clothing that left little to the imagination.

Those shorts hugged his crotch and ass perfectly, letting me see his strong
little legs in all their glory with the fine scattering of fine dark hairs
on his shins. He hadn't showered prior to class and so that combined with
all his physical activity meant that he was a smelly, little boy. I could
smell his sweat from the driver's seat and the funky, lightly musky odor
coming from his smooth, sweaty armpits.  We were both happy.....Jimmy
chattering away to his Uncle Paul...and his Uncle Paul listening with half
of his brain and processing all the hotness of Jimmy with the other half.

Dinner at the house was simple...a pizza we picked up on the way home and
then it was time to relax and watch whatever Jimmy wanted to watch on the
tube. He had shed most of his clothes and was laying on the floor in his
sweaty undies and it wasn't long before all the activity of the day caught
up with him and he fell asleep watching one of his favorite movies. He was
exhausted from the intense workout in gymnastics and had only made it
through the first five minutes of the movie before I heard his soft, steady
breathing.

He had fallen asleep with his left leg pulled up under his body, a position
only a kid can pull off without waking up cramped and hobbled! But for me
it was the perfect opportunity. With that leg pulled up, his undies were
stretched even tighter across his perky little ass and the cheeks were
naturally parted in that position. I was breathing heavily even before I
moved down to where he was resting, boring a hole in those panties with my
eyes, trying to see through the fabric and see what I knew had to be a
nasty little pucker smeared with a nice layer of butterscotch boy grease.

I could see the strip of brown right in the middle of the fabric from the
outside so I knew this would be no causal, sweaty pair of
underwear.....these would be ripe stinkers that would suffocate me in the
raw smell of boy.  I hoped he was sleeping soundly because I was going to
press my nose as deep into that cloth covered crack as his slumber would
allow. I needed to smell this boy, but I also didn't want to frighten or
confuse him in any way.

I could smell the sweat and musk even before my nose was within six inches
of his fragrant valley of boy flesh. I began to deep breath in the scent of
Jimmy...letting the smell wash over me and penetrate every corner of my
brain.  The closer I got to touching the back of those undies with my nose,
the stronger the smell grew, but I pushed my nose forward until it was
pressed down into this crack as far as it would go.

Fucking hell......he was so ripe, as ripe as an 8 year old can get. This
was the stink of gymnastic sweat, leftover poop smears, the buildup of ass
grease from a day and night without a shower......and all those other
magical secretions that make a boy pussy smell. I was snorting up his
stink, almost delirious with lust...each breath in causing those smells to
explode in my nose and causing the neurons in my brains to go crazy.

His ass crack was so hot and moist and every time I breathed out, the
breath was forced back into my face, carrying with it all the nasty, dirty
smell of boy ass. It was so dank and dark......a smell beyond sweat and
musk, although that was there.  It was wet earth and apple cider
vinegar....it was the smell of almost rotten fruit, both sweet and sour at
the same time.....it was the meaty, gamey smell of a boy pussy that had not
been washed recently. I was suffocating in Jimmy's stink and my cock was
hard and leaking into my underwear as I continued to lose myself in the
raw, ripe stink of boy ass.

Without realizing it, I has started to moan audibly from the overwhelming
stimulation I was getting huffing this boy's scent and it was enough to
cause Jimmy to rouse every so slightly from his slumber.  I pulled back and
asked him if he wanted to go to bed for the evening.  He mumbled a sleepy
yes and asked me to carry him to bed, so I picked him up and lay his head
on my shoulder, supporting his weight with my hands underneath his tight
little stink factory.

It was a short walk to the bedroom, but time seemed to stand still as I
could feel Jimmy's hot, sweet breath in my face and smell the funky sweat
in his damp hair.  I wanted nothing more than to kiss those sweet lips and
show him the delights of some long, sensuous kissing with my tongue licking
all the flavors of boy from his little mouth, but I held back, just kissing
him lightly on the forehead and tickling him with butterfly kisses on his
eyelids.

God, he tasted so good....I could taste the salty sweat on his skin from
just the little peck on his head......I wanted to lick him from top to
bottom right at that moment, but I knew that the moment has to be right.

Jimmy had to be a willing participant because I didn't want to force myself
on him although if I let lust take over I would want nothing more than to
force my cock up inside that greasy little pussy and fuck him.....fuck him
deeply until I could smell that sharp, raw smell of boy pussy being
violated...until I could see the faint brown streaks of leftover poop
smeared along the shaft of my cock......fuck him until we both screamed
from the intensity of the orgasm.

But no....I loved him too much to do anything against his will or anything
that would cause him harm. Although tough on the outside, boys are fragile
creatures on the inside and this sweet child did not deserve to be twisted
against his will. And so I put him down on the bed and turned to leave.  As
I was about to pull the door closed, I heard Jimmy in a half mumble call my
name..."Uncle Paul...will you come scratch my back while I fall asleep?"

God...who could refuse a request like that, so I lay down on the bed next
to him and let him snuggle up against my side while I scratched his smooth
little back, feeling him wiggle a little when I hit a sensitive or ticklish
spot. He seemed content and I was certainly happy to have this hot little
guy pressed up against me, close enough that I could feel the heat from his
body and smell his sweat and stink.

At some point, I must have fallen asleep because when I woke up it was
after midnight and Jimmy had wrapped himself around me...his legs
scissoring over and under my left leg, his crotch pressed up against my
hip. Although I had on a pair of cutoff sweat pants I could feel his little
boner poking into my hip.

His even, steady breathing told me he was sound asleep and so I lay there
for some time, just luxuriating in the physical contact with Jimmy and the
smell of his breath and body. I was idly scratching his back again and
couldn't help but let my hand wander down to his cloth covered ass cheeks
and gently squeeze and caress them.

God..his skin was so warm to the touch, even through his undies....I rubbed
over both cheeks and when he didn't seem to respond in any way, I eased my
hand down between the waistband of his undies and his back and let my index
finger slide into that moist, sticky crack, grazing across the wrinkled,
folds of his boy pussy, letting my fingertip get coated in all of that
stinky boy butter. I could feel the tackiness of the skin surrounding his
hole and knew that I had to smell that finger or die trying. And so I
reluctantly pulled my finger from the tight confines of Jimmy's hot little
crack and brought it up to my nose.

If I thought that the scent from his ass earlier was powerful, this was
nuclear. It was so raw and strong.....that natural, unwashed smell of
boy....that scent that makes us suck in our breath and spurt precum into
our shorts. I had the essence of Jimmy smeared across my finger...the
grease and residue of a day of playing and pooping....the intense smell of
shit, but not shit.

I don't know how to describe it....but if you have ever pressed your face
into the butt of a boy, you know what I mean. It is the residue of poop,
cooked in his crack and transformed into this mind-fucking smell. Unable to
stop myself, I put the finger in my mouth and let the flavor explode across
my tongue....it was the taste of an overripe banana mixed with something
salty and bitter.....it was sour and strong. I was tasting Jimmy's ass on
my tongue and it fucking blew my mind.

Not satisfied with just one taste I slipped my hand back down into his
undies and began a second exploration of his crack, running my finger down
into his ass and onto his pussy hole. I began to slowly rub and massage
around that rubbery ring, feeling every fold and wrinkle of flesh...feeling
the wet, stickiness of his intimate place...feeling the heat pouring out
from inside him. Lost in my exploration of his sweet pucker, I didn't
notice at first that Jimmy was awake and was pressing his crotch even
tighter against my hip and grunting every so slightly.

Knowing this was a delicate moment, I asked him if what I was doing felt
good. He nodded his head and said in a quiet voice "It feels good Uncle
Paul...sort of tickly, but good". Almost holding my breath, I asked him
"Jimmy...do you want me to make you feel really good?"  "Do you trust me
Jimmy?" His answer as a simple, quiet yes, as he snuggled himself even
tighter against my side.

Knowing that he was okay with what I was doing I begin to press my finger
against that ring of muscle, trying to force my finger into that furnace of
a boy. He was grunting and moaning.....not so much in pain as I hadn't put
my finger in his ass yet, but more in pleasure and in sweet confusion as he
tried to process all the feelings coming from his body.

I pressed with a consistent pressure against his hole and whispered to him
as I did so. "Jimmy baby....push out like you need to poop. It will help me
get my finger in your butt and I can touch your secret boy place and make
you feel tingly good." He grunted out a yes and I could feel him began to
press down with his sphincter and push back against my finger.

Oh God.....he was so moist and sticky-slick that ever so slowly my finger
began to slide past his outer ring and up into the soft, wet pit of his
pussy. He almost hissed when my finger breached him and so I waited a
minute or two for him to get used to the feeling of my finger in his ass
before I began to slowly push my finger deeper into his fuck chute, bumping
against his immature little prostate along the way.

He squeaked and moaned at the intrusion and the feeling of my finger
against his inner nut....but I knew he was getting good feelings from the
way he began to hump his little cloth covered cock against my hip. Oh
God...here I was snuggled up against this fucking wet dream of a boy, my
finger in his ass...his little boner grinding against me.

We were both too far lost in our lust to stop now and I began to fuck my
finger deeper into his passion pit, bumping against his boy button with
every stroke, feeling him grinding himself harder and harder against me and
alternatively pressing back to get my finger as deep into him as he
could. We were both breathing heavily now...his hot moist boy breath
filling my nostrils and I violated his boy pussy, repeatedly fucking my
finger into his hot, stinky guts.

I could smell his ass stronger now as every withdrawal of my finger brought
out more of his raw boy stink. Jimmy was grunting and moaning in a
continuous stream and I knew he must be getting close to having a little
boy cum so I pushed faster and began to press up against his little nut,
knowing that each stroke was sending jolts of electricity through his
little cock.

And then it happened.....he let out a plaintive sound...somewhere between a
moan and a cry and said only two words..."Uncle Paul".  He jammed his hard
little cock against my side and I could feel his ass muscles repeatedly
squeezing my finger as he passed through the throes of his orgasm. I had
made him cum just by fucking him with my finger. At some point I must have
cum myself as the front of my sweats had a large wet stain.....I don't
think I had ever been so aroused by a boy in my life....

As we both begin to some down from our sexual highs and our breathing began
to return to normal, Jimmy whispered in my ear...

"Uncle Paul....please......please finger me again."

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23. SUPER: CHRIS

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Faster than a peeing pee-pee!

Chris can squirt his penis all over the bathtub so fast the water turns
yellow and mommy yells!

Splash! Splish! He can make pee-pee all over the side of the wall and make
lots of noise when it hits the water in the bathtub.

He can make pee-pee squirt all the way up to his mouth. And he tasted it!
Salty!

More powerful than a wocomokive!

Chris is strong. He has big muscles.

Daddy tells him how big his muscles are.

Once Chris was playing cars and Daddy came up behind him on the floor and
grabbed his arm muscles.

Oh, Chris baby, Daddy said, and he made a funny noise in his throat.

Then Daddy put his nose in Chris's hiney and he made smell noises like the
doggie.

And Chris laughed and squeezed his butt muscles to show Daddy how strong
his butt was and Daddy made noises again and started touching himself down
where Mommy says not to touch.

Am I strong, Daddy? Chris asked.

Oh, baby, Daddy whispered, making funny noises. Really strong.

Able to weap big boners in a single bownd!

Chris's brother Spencer took his pants off and his wiener was really stiff.

And he said jump over it, Chrissy.

And Chris laughed and jumped over it.

Now sit on it, Chrissy.

And Chris giggled and sat on it.

But just a little. Not way up in his butt like Spencer likes to do when
Chris is napping.

Suck my cock, Chrissy, Spancer whispered, with a funny noise like Daddy.

Nope! Chris giggled, and ran off to find bad guys.

WOOK! UP IN THE SKY!

IT'S A BIWD! IT'S A PWANE!

It's SOOPA-CWISS!

And when Superchris goes to bed that night, you pick up his super soiled
skid-marked shorts and hold that rip-ripe funky baby stripe straight to
your nose while you suck in the adventurous atoms of the stinkiest little
superhero you've ever had the pleasure to tuck in.

Your eyes roll back in your head as the stinky little baby hero turns your
cock into the man of steel.

As soon as he falls asleep, one deep, full pinky to sniff and to suck on.

Shhhh, go to sleep Superboy.

Just gonna put a litlte Kryptonite right in here, baby.

Just a sticky little drop I squirted out for you.

Gonna slide it up, right in here.

Good boy.

Oh so stinky.

Sweet, stinky, super.

My hero.

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24. INNOCENCE: NATE

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It was the seminal event in my relationship with Nate and my journey as a
lover of young boys...

The white boxer briefs were in a crumpled pile on the floor of Nate's
bedroom. He had just shucked them and run into the bathroom giggling and
squealing because he was naked and he knew that I had caught a glimpse of
his adorable backside as I was coming down the hallway.

As I passed his room I saw those briefs down on the floor and almost
without thinking picked them up and pressed the damp cloth to my nose. The
briefs were warm and moist with Nate's perspiration and as I inhaled, I
could smell the crotch sweat of a very active 9 year old boy. In the front
pouch where I knew his small boy cock had been cradled there were a number
of yellowed piss stains.

I could smell the tangy, almost maple flavored scent of that dried piss.
As i ran my tongue across the fabric I registered the salty and tangy taste
of Nate's boy pee.....deposited there after Nate finished taking a piss and
failed to shake off those final few drops of that precious yellow boy
fluid.

That taste and smell brought back memories of the many times he and I were
together at home or at the mall and I accompanied him to the bathroom to
let him "go pee-pee". He was only 6 or 7 years old and I would stand guard
as he answered nature's call. I would watch him pull down those cute little
FOTLs, exposing his round little ass cheeks, perfectly smooth crotch and
his small boy cock. It was hardly larger than the end of my thumb, but I
was mesmerized by it's healthy pink color and by the way the skin of the
shaft bunched up around the head like a wrinkled fleshy collar.

I loved watching him concentrate and thrust his boy hips forward in
anticipation of that first spurt of boy piss. I swear I could see his tiny
piss slit gape open ever so slightly just before the healthy golden stream
would burst out. Often I would take the opportunity to relieve myself at
the same time, crossing streams with him and making a game out of our
pissing matches.

At that age Nate was not really sexually aware...to him this was just a
game but I had to concentrate to keep from sporting a boner at the sight of
the little guy proudly displaying that lovely little dick. He would comment
on my big winkie (his word for a cock....don't you love the way the boys
describe body parts!!), as he called it, expressing childish wonder and
curiosity at the differences between us. I always told him that "his
winkie" would get bigger just like mine when he grew up and he seemed
satisfied with the general answers I gave him.

In truth, I suppose my adult cock did look large to a six year old, but the
truth of the matter was that I was certainly not well endowed. My cock was
only average in length, around 6 inches when fully erect, with a shaft on
the more slender side.  I had always been a bit annoyed that it wasn't
thicker, but would later discover it was a blessing in disguise when it
came to fucking his hot, tight boyhole.

Pulling myself back from the daydreams of our little pee adventures in the
bathroom, I noticed that there was a light brown streak in the seat of
those briefs where the cotton fabric had rubbed repeatedly across his tight
pink boyhole all during the day's activities. Young boys like Nate are
notorious for their poor hygiene habits and his undies were a testament to
that fact. He never gave his crack more than a swipe or two after he took a
poop, leaving behind a light smear of shit spread across his wrinkled hole.

On more than one occasion while he was a youngster, I had helped him wipe
his incredibly rounded rump after he finished his business and he always
grew impatient if I continued after more than one or two swipes. From my
perspective, I would have continued wiping that hot little crack long after
he was clean, prolonging the chance to fondle his smooth boy ass and run my
paper covered fingers along that hairless crack and his little pucker.

As often as possible I made certain that the paper would slip and my index
finger would graze his exposed hole, lingering briefly on those wrinkled
folds that guarded his most intimate place. He would always giggle and
squeal at the sensation, clamping his cheeks shut and trapping my finger in
that hot valley of boy flesh.

He would tease that my finger would smell like poop and I would always
threaten to wipe it on his shirt which would send him into peals of
laughter while he scurried out of the bathroom. Without fail on these
occasions I would bring that finger up to my nose to smell those musky boy
smells that lived in his crack.

As I now brought the brown stained fabric of Nate's damp briefs up to my
nose and breathed in the sharp musky, earthy odor of his leftover shit and
pure boy ass, my cock got harder that I can ever remember. I could imagine
that fabric so snug against his smooth and ample bottom. keeping his crack
sealed up tight all day long and allowing the incredible scent of young boy
to concentrate.

The smell was almost overpowering....the strong scent of an unwashed boy's
bottom...not really the smell of shit, but something that was dark and
earthy nonetheless. And the scent fueled a deep lust in my groin for that
hot, prepubescent boy. Had I not been thinking with my dick, I would have
stuffed those brief into my pocket and taken them home for a prolonged
jackoff session when I got back to my house. But I was so lost in the scent
of this young boy that I did not notice that Nate had come back into the
bedroom to get his bath towel.

I froze when I realized that he was staring at me in disbelief, his little
nose wrinkled up in disgust, his eyes not believing what he was seeing. I
was caught red-handed with his damp, dirty briefs jammed up to my nose and
my cock tenting my cargo shorts. Nate was so surprised that he just stood
there as naked as the day he was born, forgetting for the moment his
customary shyness and embarrassment at me seeing his body.

The sight of him standing there was not lost on me despite my shock at
being caught. In that moment the image of that beautiful, naked boy was
imprinted on my mind.....his light brown hair with the cutest bangs hanging
down his forehead....his adorable brown eyes wide with surprise...and those
pouty lips, lips that would be sexy on any adult and that were even more
enticing and sexy on a 9 year old boy.

These were lips that I had often imagined wrapped around my precum slick
cock as he sucked Uncle Mark.  He had the typical skinny arms and leg of a
young boy with just the slightest hint of a tummy protruding just above his
hairless crotch. His circumcised little boy cock, now just over an inch
long in it's limp state was resting gently on his tight little nut sack and
jelly bean sized testicles. His pale, smooth skin was mostly unmarked, save
for a dusting of fine blond hairs on his forearms and shins.

He was, in my estimation, breathtaking and nearly irresistible. Despite the
fear at getting caught with his undies, it took all my willpower not to
fall to my knees and engulf that sweet little tube of flesh in my warm
mouth and knead those perky ass cheeks with my hands. But my love for him
was stronger than my lust and I knew that I could never force myself on an
unwilling Nate and so I just stood there.

My reverie was broken what Nate finally spoke.

"Uncle Mark...ewwww....that is gross. Why are you smelling my underwear?
Don't they stink?"

Knowing that my answer was the key to the next step in our relationship, I
answered him honestly. He knew me well enough by now to know that I was
always truthful in answering his questions.

"No Nate, to me they don't stink, they smell like you."

He looked at me with a funny expression trying to decide if I was just
teasing him or if I was serious.

"Haven't you ever scratched your bottom and then smelled your fingers?"  I
asked him the question, knowing full well that he had done this on numerous
occasions. "I've seen you do it Nate. What did your fingers smell like?"

He looked shocked as if I had discovered a terrible secret about him and he
quickly answered, 'I haven't done that Uncle Mark, it would be gross!"

I could tell he was embarrassed and was afraid that I would reveal his
secret to others. Like many young boys, he was growing curious about his
own body and did not seem put off by the smell of his own ass on his
fingers. I had seen him give his fingers more that a casual sniff, but had
never confronted him about it, although I had fantasized about that smell
many times. But he knew he had been busted and big tears began to roll down
his cheeks.

"Please...please Uncle Mark, don't tell anyone, I know it's bad and I
didn't mean to."

My heart melted and I dropped to my knees and hugged Nate's naked frame
tightly to my body, his head resting on my shoulder.

"Nate, I promise that I won't tell anyone. It will be our little secret."
He was still sniffling, but I could feel him relax in my arms and lean into
me, his groin pressing against my stomach.

I began to rub his shoulders and back to reassure him that everything would
be okay, my hands dropping lower and lower with each pass.. Before I could
stop myself, I was sliding both palms down over the smooth, rounded cheeks
of his little ass and began to gently squeeze them as Nate continued to
press himself against me. It was a beginning.......

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Chapter 2

Nate and I had been playing on the trampoline off and on all afternoon. I
was in heaven spending time with the little guy and bringing him some small
measure of happiness in those moments....the pure fun of boyhood. He loved
to see who could bounce the highest without losing their balance and he
would squeal with laughter every time we would fall down into a tangled
pile of boy and Uncle.

Oh those glorious moments when we were tangled up together, him laughing
and giggling and me....inhaling the scent of sweaty boy and feeling the
heat from his body. We were both sweaty from the exertion and his bangs
were damp and lank on his forehead as we lay on the trampoline....Nate on
his stomach and me resting my head on his lower back, just above the
beautiful swell of his rump. Even from this distance I could smell his
secret scent and it made my heart beat faster.

"Nate are you ready to go inside to your room?"  I asked him.

He looked at me with a shy grin and whispered "Are we gonna play our secret
games?"

God, I loved it when he was innocent and naughty at the same time. I wasted
no time in following him to his bedroom. He had not showered that morning
and was sweaty from all of our trampoline play out in the back yard. As he
placed his knees on either side of my shoulders and lowered his smooth
round bottom toward my face I was overcome by the sweet smell of his ass
and groaned audibly.

The sweat and musk of a young boy is a powerful aphrodisiac to any boylover
and I was no exception.  As he lowered himself fully on my face, his ass
cheeks parted like the petals of a flower opening in the morning sun and I
could see his pink, wrinkled little boyhole nestled deep in the center. I
could see a thin brown glaze of his leftover poop smeared across his
pucker. I raised my head up and pressed my nose into that moist, hot crack
and inhaled the strong smell of the boy's sweat and anal musk.  Mixed in
with all those smells was the faint odor of shit that had been baking in
his sweaty crack all afternoon.

As I said, he had not showered since last night and was as ripe as any
9-year-old boy can get.  But I was not turned off, quite the opposite. My
cock had never been harder, painfully so as it was still crammed into my
briefs. There was a direct connection between my nose and my cock and with
every breath I inhaled I could feel my cock throb and ooze a bit more
precum into my shorts.

Finally Nate settled his crack fully down over my face, completely burying
my nose in the fragrant valley of boyflesh. I was intoxicated with the
smell of this boy's ass and reached up to grab a cheek in each hand to
spread this boy open wide. As I stretched those globes apart, I dragged my
tongue up and down the whole length of his moist and slightly sticky
crack. The flavor of young boy ass exploded on my tongue and I could taste
the muskiness, the bitterness and the faintly metallic tang of the leftover
brown smudges on his puckered hole.

Above me I could hear Nate beginning to whimper with pleasure and squirm on
my face as he tried to process all the wonderful feelings that were
coursing through his young body. I reached between his legs and could feel
his small, hairless boycock was fully erect and throbbing as my tongue
began it's assault on his backside.

Knowing he was ready, I pressed my mouth up against the wrinkled lips of
his boy pussy and began an obscene imitation of a french kiss, using the
tip of my tongue to press relentlessly against that tight anal ring. As I
probed with my tongue, I used my hands to stretch his cheeks further apart,
giving me increased access to that moist cavern of flesh.

Nate continued to squirm, so much so that I had to use my hand to hold his
ass in place over my face.  I could not blame him though. He was
experiencing an overload of pleasurable sensations emanating from his
butthole and he didn't really know how to react. All he could do was to
continue that sweet whimpering, with the occasional groan/moan combination
when I hit a particularly sensitive spot.

I could feel his muscle ring spasm against my mouth as my tongue poked and
prodded against the center of his being, all the while sucking and slurping
on that wrinkled rubbery flesh collar that protected his insides.

Sooner rather than later, I managed to time the thrust of my tongue with
one of his spasms and slide the tip into the tight, wet channel of Nate's
boy pussy. Immediately I could taste a whole new range of flavors and feel
the silky smooth walls of his poop chute hugging my tongue. The flavor was
sharper and stronger....more metallic and bitter, but I could not stop.

For his part, Nate was surprised at the sudden invasion of his hiney-hole
as he would call his ass, giggling every time. He was also feeling a new
wave of sexual stimulation as my wriggling invader slowly penetrated his
love muscle. He was so tight, but I was determined to make his first tongue
fuck an event to remember. With repeated thrusting and pushing I was able
to ease my tongue just a bit more into the beautiful sweaty ass of this
nine year old boy.

Both Nate and I were lost in a world of sensory overload. He was consumed
by the feelings of pleasure from his little pussy and I was delirious with
the smell and taste of this young boy's ass.

"Aaahhhhh......uuunnnggggg...Uncle Mark, lick my hiney-hole, please. I
feels so tingly and good!"

Nate was almost babbling at this point, only knowing that he wanted to feel
more of that pleasure from down below. I was only too happy to oblige,
letting him feel the rasp my tongue against the outer edges of his pussy
walls and against that little wrinkle.

In his excitement Nate was pressing his ass down on my face harder and
harder trying to increase the sensation of my tongue and give me more
access to his hot little hole. I was suffocating and I didn't care....my
world consisted of the smell and taste of Nate's hole and I was lost in the
pleasure of it. His whimpers and squeals of pleasure were music to my ears
as my tongue repeatedly violated his secret places.

After what seemed like lifetime of having my face buried in sweaty nirvana,
my jaw and tongue were aching and so I reluctantly pushed Nate's backside
off my face and rolled him over onto the bed. I was nearly exhausted from
being on a sexual high for so long and as a result of being smothered in
boy ass. Nate was quiet, except for the occasional sigh before he quietly
asked...

"Uncle Mark...can you give me my winkie tingles??"

Fuck...what is an Uncle to do?

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25. BEDWETTER: DREW

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Drew is a definitely a little scamp. He is completely spoiled rotten by my
sister, being the youngest of her four kids. He always gets everything he
wants and tends to be a whiner when he doesn't get what he wants. But oh my
god, he is so adorable. He is a normal looking nine year old kid, nothing
particularly remarkable about him....no blue eyes or curly blonde
hair....no porn-kid bubble but....just a normal, all American kid.

He does have a wonderful spray of freckles across his nose and cheeks and
his mouth is just a bit too big for a kid his age, but otherwise he is just
a sandy haired, freckled kid. Perhaps that is why I find him so
irresistible. That and the fact that this kid loves physical contact and
cuddling. His dad is not the most affectionate man and is much more
interested in his job and golf than caring about his kids. Drew never gets
much attention from dear old Dad, and certainly not the kind of one-on-one
focus and love he needs. So because I took an interest in him, he was drawn
to me like a magnet.

Whenever I show up at my sisters, he is instantly at the door, grabbing me
around the middle and hugging me tightly, pressing his little groin tight
against my thigh. What a way to get greeted every time you arrive....having
a cute little nine year old squeezing his little cloth covered dick against
your leg.  And we are talking real contact, not some millisecond,
accidental contact. The kid pushes his crotch against me every time.

Of course I hug him back, letting my hands drift down to his cute little
butt and giving it a quick squeeze and pressing him even more firmly
against my body. Damn...it is worth driving over there just for that little
slice of heaven.

Drew is a very tactile little guy and loves sitting in my lap and having me
just touch him, whether it is interlacing my fingers with his, which he
seems to particularly like doing. I can't deny that I love this as
well....there is something so sweet and intimate about having our fingers
in contact like that. I don't know where he learned to do such a thing, but
my heart and cock are always appreciative of the contact.

Another of his favorites is having me give him piggyback rides around the
house. What a perfect opportunity to get my hands on his sweet little ass
as I hold him up. Often times my fingertips will slide around those cheeks
up into his crotch and gently press against his little dick and balls. He
never seems to mind the contact.

In fact, on more than one occasion when we are watching TV, he will sort of
take my hands and place them right at his crotch and press them down,
wanting to feel the pressure of my hands on his immature sex organs. It
never seems to last more than a few seconds, but it is incredibly
stimulating to have my hands pressed down on his fabric covered crotch.
Once or twice, I could just feel a bit of stiffness under his little knit
shorts, so I know he was enjoying the contact, even though for Drew I don't
think it is yet a sexual thing. It just feels good and he does it. Surely
when he is in my lap he can feel my boner pressing up against his backside,
but if he does he never gives me any indication.

I had been sniffing his dirty undies at every opportunity, loving the sweet
and pungent scent of the pussy smears he leaves behind in the seat.
Sometimes they are just a little musky and sweaty, but after a soccer match
they will always be nice and rank with a lovely tan smear of earthy, sour
ass grease for Uncle Mark to huff.

You know what I am talking about....those undies that have rubbed against
his pucker all day long and absorbed every bit of sweat and pussy grease
while he was playing. Those special ones that go beyond the polite musky
sweetness of a boy's little wrinkle and move right into the "dark, meaty,
gamey" zone. Holy fuck......when I would manage to stumble upon a really
moist pair of crack stinkers, I would stuff them into my backpack and take
them home for a long extended sniff and jack session. The smell of a boy's
unwashed backside....that lovely mix of sweat, musk, pheromones, wet earth
and the sweet/sour of overripe fruit.....I was captivated by those scents!

However, the other special treasure in Drew undies are the lovely yellowed
pee stains in the front pouch where his little 2 inch cocklet rested. You
see, Drew is an occasional bed wetter and once in a great while I will
catch a pair of those undies he has worn to bed.....undies that have gotten
a nice soaking in the front with his hot and salty boy piss. By the time I
got my hands on them, they are usually dry, but still fragrant with the
tang of his dried piss.

I will jam those undies in my mouth and suck out all the pissy, tangy,
salty, mapley flavor I can from that fabric.  I can just imagine catching
him mid-piss, that hot, sweetness bursting out the little piss hole at the
end of his cock. I have constant fantasies of getting to take him to the
bathroom and holding that little dick between my thumb and forefinger,
letting that golden stream spray over my hand and then bringing that hand
up to my mouth to taste the salty goodness flowing from his little
spike.......sweet fucking hell.....strong and salty and just a little bit
of sweetness from all the candy that Drew seems to eat all day long.

Sometimes he still wears a pull-up to bed instead of his regular undies and
I caught one of those used pull ups one morning while helping my sister
clean out her garage. Drew had gotten up and stripped off the soiled
pull-up and headed to the shower.

While my sister was making a quick trip to the recycle center to drop off
an old TV and computer system, I slipped back in the house and stumbled on
that pee soaked garment. Oh damn, it was so fucking strong. This was the
all night, brewed up piss of a nine year old and it was pungent.....I
brought that pull-up to my nose and sucked in the scent of stale piss with
just a hint of ammonia. This was not a sniff for the faint of heart....this
was a full bladder dump of kiddie piss in concentrated form and it made me
almost dizzy to inhale those pungent fumes.

I felt like I was drowning in Drew's pee and could have kept my nose buried
in that pull-up until every scent receptor was completely shocked into
numbness, but my sister was returning and I didn't need to get caught face
down in a used pair of pissy pants. But at this point I knew that I
wanted....scratch that......this was not a want, this was a hunger and a
need to taste his yellow fluid straight from his little 2 inch tap.

It was not unusual for me to help shuttle my nephews around to help my
sister out and so when I suggested that I just have Drew spend the night
after soccer practice one evening she gratefully agreed.  I picked up Drew
that evening and we went out for pizza and sodas. I made sure he had plenty
of coke to drink. I wanted this boy to have a full bladder during the
night.

We had a fun meal, with Drew chattering away nonstop the way nine year olds
do, telling me everything that happened at soccer practice. I just enjoyed
watching him eat and especially enjoyed watching him drink his coke through
a straw. There are few things as sensual as watching a kid slip his lips
around a straw and suck up fluid....such a normal and innocent act. But in
the mind of a perv, definitely something that will harden your cock in an
instant.

And sometimes, just sometimes, they will catch you watching them and look
up at you while sucking through that straw and you see just the hint of a
smile in their eyes and you are blown away.....can they really read your
mind and know what you are thinking? Or it is just a hint of a smile
because he thinks it's silly that you are watching him so intently.  It is
sweet torture either way.

Once back at the house, we curled up on the couch to watch the latest
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles movie, with Drew pointing out every
significant detail to me. He was wearing a thin tee shirt and his little
spongebob boxer shorts. I could feel the heat of his little stink furnace
in my lap as I was gently rubbing his back and neck.

He still smelled of sweat from the soccer game and I could detect just the
faintest bits of boy musk rolling up from his little backside which I knew
had to be ripe with all the intoxicating scent of unwashed boy pussy.
Having this little stinkpot sitting in my lap, leaning back against my
chest so my nose was perfectly positioned to be buried in his sweat-soured
hair, our fingers intertwined as he liked, I was content.

We watched the movie for another hour or so before I could tell that Drew
has fallen asleep and so I carried him to my bed. He awakened just a bit as
I was carrying him, but he was too tired to really be fully aware of his
surroundings. I eased him down onto the bed, quickly shed most of my
clothes, save for a tight pair of boxers and slipped into the bed beside
him.

Drew fell back asleep pretty quickly, snuggled up against my side, his
crotch even with my hipbone. I lay there for a long time, just enjoying the
nearness of the boy, feeling the heat of his body against mine and idly
rubbing his lower back and the top of his cheeks.  I could feel his moist,
even breathing against my neck and shoulder and the poke of his little dick
as it hardened while he slept. I even managed to ease my finger down into
his sweaty crack and rub along that hot cavern of boy flesh, feeling the
sticky, greasy residue of boy and play mixed together.

I could feel my finger getting slick with a smear of residue from his
little wrinkle and I had to sniff his intimate stink. Oh that finger... it
was like a boy ass buffet as I brought it up to my nose.....it was musky
and dank...smelling of vinegar and potatoes......and sweet boy pussy. I
rubbed all that sticky residue against my top lip so I could just breathe
in his scent as I fell asleep with him tight against my side. Oh sweet
dreams of boy ass.

I don't remember drifting off to sleep, but around 3 am I was awakened when
I felt hotness flowing across my midsection....Drew was pissing away in his
sleep and it was soaking through his undies and onto me and the bed....
not wanting to lose this opportunity, I quickly shifted around so that my
face was pressed into his hot, wet crotch and let the piss seeping through
his undies wet my face and fill my nostrils with the scent of fresh, hot
boy piss.

I could taste his liquid essence.......it was salty and sweet mixed, just
like the snacks we all love so well.  All of the coke he has slurped up at
dinner softening and sweetening the flavor......mingling with the salty
tang and the bitter, coppery undertones.  I was buried in a salty ocean of
boy piss as I continued to push my face down into his leaking crotch.

Before his bladder was empty and the flow ceased, I had to feel that piss
jetting from his little cock and hitting me directly in the face. Moving
quickly, I eased those pee soaked undies down under his little acorns and
pulled his rigid little wiener up so that it was pointing toward my
face. With my eyes closed I let that hot salty spray hit my face. It was
far better than any ocean wave I had ever experienced, because it a part of
Drew and smelled of Drew.

Sweet fucking hell.....he was pissing right into my face!! This nine year
old boy was pissing on his Uncle Mark.  Yes, he was asleep, but for me that
did not lessen the impact of being struck in the face with that golden
fluid, feeling it sear my skin with it's heat and drown me with it's heady
scent. I was so lost in the hot, tangy wetness of the crotch and his
undies.

Far too quickly, the flow dropped down to a mere dribble and without
thinking I moved down and closed my mouth on his wet, pissy little dick and
sucked up those last few drops of that yellow nectar.  Fuck this was sweet
heaven......having my face buried in his wet crotch, redolent with the
scent of sweat and musk and piss and little boy dick. I sucked on that
rigid little spike and licked under his tight nut sack until there was no
flavor left.

I wanted nothing more than to stay in that position forever, but Drew began
to stir and I knew he was not yet ready to wake up and find Uncle Mark
hovering his privates, so I reluctantly pulled back, slipped his undies
back up to his waist and eased myself over to a dry spot on the bed.
Morning would come soon enough and as Drew and I changed the sheets, he and
I would have a little conversation about his overnight accident. I had no
doubt that if I played my cards right it would begin to open the door to
many more yellow adventures with Drew.

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26. SMARTASS: SCHWARTZ

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Holy hell Schwartz was a smartass!! Sure his character on screen was always
mouthing off with his buddies as they wandered the fictional streets of
their suburban neighborhood in Hohman, but let me tell you he wasn't
acting.

Off screen, between takes, and during the rehearsal process this kid gave
everyone lip. He was a cocky 11-year-old who pushed the other boys around
and made dirty suggestions to the girls in the cast. I don't know that this
kid really knew what they meant, but he sure as hell pretended that he did.

He thought it was cute to swear and every other word out of his mouth
seemed to be fuck! He had mouthed off to me a number of times as I was
trying to wrangle he and his buddies around the set and get them their
meals during breaks from filming. He was a royal pain in the ass and I
would have reported him to the assistant director, except the kid made me
hotter than hell and I wanted to get in his pants in the worst way.

On more than one occasion he had caught me looking at him and had popped
off at the mouth "Hey perv...what are you looking at?"  What I was looking
at was an 11-year-old kid (almost 12) with ears that were just a bit too
big for his head and front teeth that were too big for his mouth. Add in
some freckles on his nose and cheeks and he was a fucking wet dream to me.

I loved those kids that were just a bit goofy and awkward looking and with
his smart mouth he had me soaking the front of my pants with precum every
time I was around him for more than a few minutes. I could just imagine
holding onto those ears as I fucked his smartass mouth and watching his
eyes widen in surprise as my cockhead grazed the back of his throat.

Or perhaps it was the mixture of pleasure and pain as he gently gnawed on
my dick... ......alternating between sucking and gently squeezing me with
those big teeth. So yeah, I wanted his ass and mouth planted on my dick and
I knew it would only be a matter of time before opportunity knocked.

As I spent a lot of time with the kids as the Production Assistant in
charge of the actors under 13 (I know....sound glamorous, but for a boy
lover it was the perfect job.....nothing like being cooped up in a room
with a bunch of sweaty preteen boys who were just about to hit puberty.)

Sometimes I swear I could smell them when I would walk into the room...
sweat...immature pheromones....and just a hint of dirty, stinky boy ass.
Fuck, it was all I could do not to yank down their pants and suck all the
greasy pussy paste from their cracks, But it was Schwartz that I was after
and I watched his every move and waited to make my move.

My first opportunity came during a three hour break in the filming of the
schoolhouse scenes. I noticed that Schwartz wandered off by himself which
we didn't allow. Normally he stayed with the other kids and did what he
could to torture them with his loud, mouthy attitude.

So I followed him back to one of the trailers he shared with another of the
kids in the schoolroom scene (can't remember the kid's name, but he had a
couple of lines at the schoolhouse window while Flick had his tongue stuck
to the flagpole). By the time I got to the trailer, Schwartz had already
gone inside and so I thought I would give him a minute and then sneak in
and see what the little shit was up to.

I eased the door open, being at quiet as I could be since the trailers were
not that large with only a front gathering room, a bathroom and a back
bedroom where the kids could catch a nap between scenes. I slipped into the
trailer and noticed right away that Schwartz was not in the front room but
the bedroom door was pushed almost closed.

I made my way quietly back toward the bedroom and could hear muffled sound
coming from the room...there was a soft grunting noise and a rhythmic
slapping sound.  Bingo...I knew before I peeped through the crack between
the doorframe and door what I would see....sure enough, Schwarz was
sprawled out across the bed with this corduroys and FOTLs down around his
knees beating his little cock for all it was worth.

I could see a porno mag lying beside him, probably the visual matter that
helped him get so hot and bothered. Now the magazine was being ignored as
he was totally caught up jacking furiously toward those good feeling that
he obviously was very familiar with.

I slowly pushed the door open in an effort not to disturb him or alert him
to my presence.....holy fuck what a sight before me.  His little cock was
already beginning that transition to teendom and looked to be about 4
inches long and hard as a rock.

From my angle I couldn't see if he had pubes but his little nut sack was
smooth, still drawn up fairly tight against his taint and jiggling up and
down as he tried to tear his dick off his body with each up and down
stroke. It was going to be a good cum regardless if he was shooting blanks
or a bit of boy juice.

I could smell hot boy before I got within three feet of him....I could
smell sweat and the stink of a boy who has skipped a shower this morning.
If I was burning with fuck lust before, when the smell hit me, my cock
began to ooze and I decided on the spot that it was time for little
Schwartzy to learn a couple of life lessons.

"What the hell are you doing you little shit?"  I barked as it looked like
he was nearing his moment of boy joy. I know that seem cruel but he would
get his nut before we were finished this afternoon.  The poor kids squealed
and nearly yanked his little cock off his body as he reacted to my voice
and to the fact that I was in the room and he was busted!

What a transformation from cocky smartass to embarrassed little boy on the
verge of tears at getting caught. Proving how naïve he truly was, he
thought he was in trouble for doing what boys do, but I decided to press my
advantage.

"So, you think I should tell the director what you are spending your free
time doing?"  I knew full well that the director could care less if some
11-year-old was wanking his wiener, but Schwartz didn't have a clue.

"You know he will kick you off the set and drop you from the movie, don't
you?"

With his lower lip trembling he hardly knew how to respond, except to plead
with me not to tell anyone, especially the director. Funny how he didn't
even think to mention his parents, although I suspect that they would have
punished him for the next ten years if he got kicked off the set as they
saw him as their meal ticket for the next few years!

I didn't respond at first....just let him sweat a little bit, sweat that I
could smell rolling off of him in that cramped little bedroom.  I slowly
closed and locked the bedroom door.

"Maybe we can make a little deal, have a little fun and I'll just forget
what I saw here."  I said as I began to unzip my pants, letting my dick
push the front of my underwear out through the fly of my pants.  The look
on his face was shock and astonishment that quickly morphed into confusion.

"Aw come on Schwartz....you're old enough to know what big boys do behind
closed doors aren't you?"

He looked so cute sitting upright, pants down around his knees and his
little dick now drooping down over his ball sack, the erection having fled
the moment I first spoke. Slowly understanding dawned on his face as he
realized what I was suggesting and he flushed red with embarrassment as I
saw curiosity and a bit of fear mixed in his eyes.

Not wanting the moment to slip past, I reached out and closed my hand
around his limp noodle and began a gentle massage. He shivered but did not
pull away and his dick started to stiffen in my grasp. He let out a soft
moan and I knew he would be a willing participant in the dirty little games
I had planned.

As I started to stroke his spike, I used my free hand to pull his head
toward me and pressed my mouth against his. He hadn't been prepared to kiss
another male, especially a grown man, but after an initial moment of
hesitation, I felt his lips part and I pushed my tongue past those teeth of
his and into his hot, moist mouth. He tasted of sweet tarts that all the
kids on the set seemed to eat all the time, acidic and sweet and all boy.

I began to fuck his mouth with my tongue, his breathing increased as the
kiss began to excite him and he pushed back with his own tongue and we
engaged in a little duel as I continued to slowly masturbate his now rigid
little cock.

I pulled away, slipped his tee shirt up over his head and removed his
corduroy pants and undies, leaving him naked on the bed except for his
cocks.  What a sight....a panting little boy with a stiff little dick
almost pleading with his eyes for me to continue the stimulation he craved.

But I needed to taste this boy and dove down on him, sniffing the sweet
beginnings of musk percolating in those hairless pits. I sniffed and licked
away the salty residue of his day of work and play, hearing him vacillate
between giggling at the tickling sensation of tongue against his bare flesh
and groaning at the stimulation.  Making quick work of his pits, I licked
my way down his soft tummy to that sweet crotch. I could now see that he
had just the barest scattering of light brown downy pubes, little more than
peach fuzz crowning the base of his little cock shaft.

Oh fuck, the scent of boy crotch on the edges of puberty.....he smelled of
sweat and soft musk and the beginnings of pheromones that drove me wild
with fuck lust. I snuffled my way down and under his tight little nut sack
where the smell was more yeasty and darker as I was closer to that sweet
ass crack. I sucked his whole sack in my mouth and licked around his little
acorns, tasting sweat and the slightly cheesy flavor of unwashed boy
crotch.

I could have sucked on his little nuts for hours, but forced myself to move
back up to his throbbing little spike and pressed the head of his cock
against my nose, smelling boy dick, hot with just a faint smell of piss
left from his last trip to the toilet.  I wanted this boy to piss all over
me and let that hot golden fluid run over my face, tasting the tangy,
saltiness of boy pee.

I filed that thought away for later use and continue to snort dick smell
until my nose ached. Not wanting to have Schwartz grow too impatient with
my sniffing orgy, I let the little stalk of flesh slip into my mouth and
began to give him a blowjob that he would not soon forget. I took his whole
length into my mouth, feeling the spongy head just touch the back of my
throat and slowly let it slid back from my mouth, swirling my tongue around
the sensitive little bunch of skin just under his cock head.

Almost immediately he was thrusting that little pelvis up against my mouth,
trying to bury his cock as deep in my mouth as he could, He was grunting
with almost every thrust and I knew he was deep in a fog of hotness.

Taking advantage of the moment, I pulled off his cock and pushed his knees
back toward his ears so I could get at that boy ass. As I rolled his legs
up, those smooth cheeks parted as I could see his sweet little pucker
nestled in that valley of flesh. I could see the greasy boy butter glazing
over that stink wrinkle and could smell hot boy pussy before my nose was
even in his crack.

He was full of stink having been packed into tight corduroys all
day...those pants keeping his pussy sealed up tight to brew up some
mind-fucking hot boy ass perfume.  I huffed in his stink as I moved down
into that damp, musky trench of his secret place. God, the smells....it was
so hot and wet smelling.......a sour, cheesy scent mixed with wet earth and
strong boy musk.

This was a boy pussy that had not been washed today and it was sticky with
smudges of nasty, stinky ass grease. I pressed my nose against his pussy
hole, feeling the slick stickiness transfer to my outer edges of my
nostrils as the smell nearly caused my head to explode and my cock to fall
off. This was a stink of hot, raw, sexually aroused boy, the smell that you
crave every time you see a young boy and wonder what his little behind
smells like.

Deep breathing the smell of his little cunt, I was groaning almost without
realizing it. I had to taste this boy's ass and began to slowly lick around
his wrinkled hole, letting that boy butter melt onto my tongue, the flavor
of boy ass exploding in my mouth.

He tasted so fucking hot.....it was bitter and sour...so strong that the
casual sniffer would be put off, but I needed to eat this boyhole, to take
every bit of stink and flavor his pussy would give up.  I was like a man
starving...licking and sucking against that ring trying to get past his
muscle and taste his insides, that hot, raw taste of a boy's fuck hole.

Through my own fog of hotness I was dimly aware of Schwartz moaning and
grunting somewhere above me....obviously enjoying the fact that I was
making a meal out of his little pussy and stimulating all those nerve
endings in his little rump.  I pressed on with my tongue, pushing
relentlessly against that rubbery ring of flesh, teasing out little bits of
the darker bitterness that lay just beyond his sphincter.

I was losing my mind in that steaming pussy pit and my balls were blue from
a prolonged erection. As my tongue got too tired to try and fuck his tight
little cock receptacle, I pulled away from his ass and yanked down my
shorts and underwear, letting my cock slap up against my belly, free from
the confines of clothing.

I kneeled on the bed and pulled Schwartz up facing my crotch and grabbed
those ears and pulled his mouth up against my slick cockhead, smearing
precum across those sweet lips. Seeming to understand what came next, he
opened his mouth and my cock slipped into that hot little mouth. I could
feel his teeth lightly scraping against the head and shaft, but the
pleasure and pain merged into overstimulation down in aching balls.

I knew I would not last much longer and so I pulled his head forward with
those hot fucking ears and thrust my cock as deep in his mouth as it would
go, feeling the head hit the back of his throat. His eyes widened in
surprise and he grunted and groaned at the same time. That was all it took
for me to explode in his mouth and begin firing my baby batter into the
back of his mouth.

He was so surprised by the sudden ejaculation in his mouth that he
swallowed almost on reflex, letting the first shots of my slimy cum slide
down into his stomach.  As I continued to squirt out what was left in my
balls, my cum begin to ooze out around my cock and drip down his chin and
onto his belly and crotch.

With one final grunt and push I was drained and I pushed him back on the
bed and collapsed down on top of him. He was still trying to process what
had just happened and before he could gather his wits about him, I pressed
my mouth to his and began to suck my remaining cum off his tongue, tasting
my cum and cock in his mouth........he responded by kissing me back and
humping my belly with his needy little cock.

I could feel myself responding and knew that we had more than an hour
before we had to be back on set. I let my reawakened cock begin to slide up
and down his greasy hot ass valley, feeling his flesh wrinkle grazing my
cockhead and knowing that before the hour was up, I would be sliding my
dick up inside this dirty little boy and fucking the cum out of both of us.

Feeling that hard little spike pressing against my belly I knew this little
boy was ready to be taken to the next level of sexual stimulation so while
I continued to thrust my tongue into his hot little mouth, I moved my right
hand down to his sweet crack, slick with his ass grease, my spit and the
precum oozing out of my cockhead.

I rubbed my finger along his chute and got it nicely coated with all that
nasty slickness and began to press against his tight little wrinkle. There
was resistance for sure....the kid was tight and likely a virgin. But I
applied steadily increasing pressure to that muscle ring and the tip of my
finger began to breach his pussy walls, sliding up into that stink
furnace. Schwartz grunted loudly and I could feel his muscle clench up.

"Relax baby and push out like you need to take a shit" I said to Schwartz
between bouts of devouring his little fuckhole of a mouth.

I felt him push down against my finger and it was just enough to let me
slide it home deep in his bowels, I immediately began to fuck my finger in
and out of his little pussy, pushing hard against his boy button with every
stoke. He was whimpering and I could feel his hard little cock jumping
every time I grazed his prostate.

"Feel that boy....that is your fuck nut I am hitting inside your pussy."

His only response was to moan into my mouth as he sunk deeper into a fog of
lust.  While I loved finger-banging this little guy, I needed to get my
cock inside his hole before my balls turned blue again and fell off.

I pulled my greasy and tan-smeared finger out of his ass and brought it up
to my nose for a quick huff of the pure, raw stink of his pussy. It was so
fucking strong and sour that it made me lightheaded and caused my cock to
ache with need. I had to fuck this boy, to breed his cunt and mark him as
mine.

With one last snort of his pussy paste, I took my finger down and smeared
some of that tan pussy juice onto Schwartz's top lip, right under his nose,
I wanted to him to smell his fuckhole, smell that deep, dirty, nasty scent
of a fuck while I penetrated his guts.

"Smell that Schwartz....smell the raw stink of your little cunt. I want you
to know what it smells like and feels like when I breed you."

Whether he was turned on by the smell or repulsed by it was hard to
tell...but I could hear him breathing through his nose, taking in his own
secret scent. He would remember the smell of this fuck for the rest of his
life.

Unable to wait any longer I pushed his legs back to open up that ripe peach
of a behind. God what a sight....something you never get tired of
seeing.....that sticky little wrinkle, glistening in the light from all the
wetness of his insides, slightly reddened from the finger fucking and open
just the barest bit revealing the edges of his cunt walls.

And the smell......sweet fucking hell.....the smell of a sexually charged
boy's crotch and ass was rolling up into my nostrils as I positioned the
swollen head of my cock against that wet hole. I rubbed the head around
that rubbery ring, painting it with my precum and smearing his cunt funk on
the head of my dick and began to push against him.

For a moment there was no change and suddenly my head popped in past his
sphincter and he groaned loudly and clamped down on my dickhead.

"Fuck.....push out Schwartz....push out hard and it will be easier."

He was breathing heavily and didn't respond immediately, so I grabbed his
little dick, now limp from the initial penetration and began to gently
squeeze and massage him back to life. He began to relax again and I pressed
home my advantage and slid all the way up into his moist, clinging pussy
pit.

Holy fuck, it felt like my cock was in a blast furnace he was so hot and
wet inside, his walls beginning to spasm against the intrusion. It was like
a rolling massage on my cock shaft and I knew that I was nearing another
orgasm in very short order.

I began to fuck my shaft in and out of his little jizz receptacle, watching
his walls cling to my cock every time I pulled back, leaving the head
buried inside his ring.  I could see the faint streaks of peanut butter tan
on the shaft and smell the scent of a fucked boy ass. Increasing the speed
of my thrusts, I was giving this boy the ride of his life and letting him
feel my cockhead squeezing up against him immature prostate with every
stroke in.

He was in sensory overload and was moaning in an almost continuous stream,
with the occasional hissed out "yes" whenever I hit his fuck nut just
right. He lost control of his bladder and little spurts of piss would jet
out of his dick when I would push up deep in his hole.

Oh fuck, the smell of his hot and tangy piss combined with his pussy stink
put me over the edge and I slammed into him one final time, blasting out
the baby makers in my balls, breeding this boy and claiming him as my
own. I buried my face in his chest and began to lick up his salty piss as I
shuddered through the final stages of my orgasm.

As my cock begin to soften and slip out of his pussy, I pushed my face down
into his piss soaked crotch and sucked his half hard cocklet into my mouth
and began to give him the pleasure he earned with that fuck. He was hard in
an instant and thrusting up into my face....I could smell his sweat and
funky musk and taste the piss on his dick.

He was whimpering uncontrollably and making these little half-crying noises
in this throat so I knew he was close. With one push up into my mouth, he
came and I felt his cock begin to throb in my mouth, squeezing out a few
dribbles of his sweet-as-honey cum.

I could feel his body completely relax now that the tension of his orgasm
was past and I let his wet little cock slip out of my mouth and moved up to
kiss him one more time, letting him taste his own cum in my mouth, as we
both could smell the ass funk I had smeared under his nose.

His half-lidded eyes looked up at me through the dissipating fog of hotness
and he murmured something almost unintelligible but I did catch "fuck...so
good" before he drifted off, exhausted from the sexual Olympics he had just
endured. I kissed his forehead, knowing this kid was mine whenever I wanted
him again.

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27. MEMORIES: JAMES

We occasionally get true-life reader memory mail here at Smell This World
Headquarters in beautiful bustling downtown, Dubuque, Iowa, high atop the
Dubuque World Sniffing Tower where our offices are located.

James wrote to us last month and said, "Just wanted to say I absolutely
love your "Smell This" series on Nifty. It's honestly the best piece of
erotic fiction I've ever read. If boy ass sniffing was popular literature
you'd be J.K. Rowling. Please keep it coming. You're brilliant."

Well, honestly, flattery will get you everywhere, so I wrote back to James
with excessive, flowery platitudes of thanks because (a) I love Harry
Potter and Ron Weasley and (b) after watching them sniff each other's young
wizard buttholes – (and, well, you know, fuck each other) – I'd like
to whip out my magic wand and poke around their little dual Diagon Alleys,
too.

I also reminded James that "Smell This" is very much a collaborative effort
between me, Brad and Mark, and BCC'd his kudos to the rest of the team, who
were, as usual, sluffing off at the water cooler, comparing notes on the
latest Disney Channel kids show they'd been watching. I'm serious, ever
since we got Netflix streaming at the office, it's all they do. Do you know
how many times I walk past their doors hearing the Zack and Cody theme song
and the wicka-wacka of lube splatters coming from the other side?
Honestly, it's ridiculous.

Anyway, James wrote back and said, "I didn't realize it was a collaborative
effort. In that case please do pass on my compliments! There's some pretty
great work on Nifty but your series is honestly the best I've ever read!
It's so on-point."

Again, let me point out to all new readers, flattery will get you
everywhere.

James continued, "Boy butt sniffing is a pretty small niche but you've
definitely cornered the market. Not only is your work red hot, it's also
some of the most emotive writing I've ever read! Boy love brilliance."

Aw, shucks. I mean, I know. It is. But, yeah. Shucks anyway. It's good to
hear it.

And then the little minx goes and throws in the clincher! He says, "I'm 19
(well, it was my 20th birthday the other day but I refuse to believe I'm
not a teen anymore), and I've been into sniffing ass my entire life, as
long as I can remember. It's so great finding like-minded people,
especially people with such fantastic writing skills! I can't say I've ever
met someone online or in real life who has the same exact interest as
me. So thank you for being you!"

And good heavens, after I had Brad and Mark erect a larger statue of myself
out in our lobby to replace the old one – (and by the way, you got the
nose wrong, assholes) – what else could I do but reply:

"Oh James! Oh my! You ARE a young sniffer, aren't you?

And he said, "Why? How old ARE you?"

I said, "To quote Auntie Mame to Auntie Vera, honey, I'm somewhere between
40 and death."

"But by all means," I told him. "Tell us your story! You can't just leave
us hanging with a teaser like "I've been into sniffing ass my entire life"
and then just ride off into the sunset!"

I mean, how do you not ask for a follow-up to that enticing dangler, dear
reader?

So I downright demanded James' compliance and left no stone unturned!

The following is the result of my grueling investigation, all done on your
behalf.

I know. I know. I'm a godsend.

"Tell us when you started sniffing boy butt! Any early experiences! First
times! Favorite times! Who was your most special sniff! Younger boy! Older
boy! Talk! Talk! Talk!

And James, God bless him, did not even fear my foaming, rabid wild-eyed
panting – (I actually knocked a vase down with my erection) – he just
calmly and generously gave up the goods.

Here's what sweet young 20-year-old James told us, in his own words, about
his youthful experiences in the sticky little playground of Eau de Butte.

Take it away, James! (Oooh, this is the good part. I'm going to take my
penis out now).

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"I guess you could say I'm a young sniffer," James began. "Let's just say
I've always known what I liked!"

The earliest butt sniffing I can remember doing was actually in pre-school!
Back in the good old 90's.

[Editor's Note: I giggled a little when he said "the good old 90's," but
shhh, let him go on. I'm sorry. I'll shut up. Keep your penis out].

"I'm pretty sure I would have been 4 because I didn't start school until I
was 5. I just remember shuffling around the floor sniffing various asses
without the owners knowing, with my buddy (who I can't for the life of me
even picture let alone remember his name). Although I do remember sticking
strictly to boy-butt. I've always been a lil gay boy at heart.

I remember even though it wasn't strictly sexual (like I wouldn't have been
able to get hard or anything) it was still exciting in what I now
understand to be a sexual excitement if that makes sense. I remember we
decided to do it because it would be funny and naughty. I genuinely wanted
to know what butt smelled like.

I knew it would smell like poop but I didn't mind because I already liked
the smell and loved things like farts. I remember the toilets at pre school
were just a big room with about 5 or 6 toilets lined up next to each other
with no barricades so I was used to the smells and sounds of boys on the
toilet.

I don't think any of the other kids realized what we were doing but I do
remember we were caught! I remember one kid was sitting in one of those
chairs that have holes in the bottom so we were sliding under the chair and
sniffing when one of the day care workers found us and told us to stop. Not
sure if she had any clue what we were actually doing.

I think my next butt experience was in school when I was about 6 or 7. Me
and my friend (whose name was also Zach!) excused ourselves from class to
go to the toilet. I sucked him off for a while and then asked him to turn
around so I could taste his butt.

Like I said, I was always interested in butts and toilets and poop and
farts so I guess it was a natural progression that I'd want to smell and
taste an actual butt hole. Zach liked it. He stuck his bubble butt right in
my face and told me to keep licking. I licked it a few times, gave the hole
a good sniff and asked him to take off his undies so I could sniff them. I
remember we switched undies that day and I took his home with me and
sniffed them for ages. He'd been in them for half a day and I'd been in
them for half a day so there was a good combined scent!

We were obviously scared of being found out so we made each other promise
never to tell.  We never did butt stuff again but we used to rub each
other's crotches in class and talk about dirty things. I think he left the
school shortly after that.

I also remember at various times in my life up until we were about 14
playing truth or dare with my neighbor. The dares ranged from 'touch my
penis' to 'let me use your face as a seat.' I knew the smell of his ass off
by heart by the end of it. And he was a pretty dirty kid too. I was always
fairly boyish but at the same time civilized and (seemingly) innocent.

He was a typical never-washes, runs-around-all-day and has-a
filthy-ass-kinda kid. And these days as far as I know he's totally straight
(which actually turns me on even more knowing that I got to sniff his
straight boy butt). When we got a bit older (13 or so) and our dares got a
bit more sexual I remember one time sucking him off and then licking down
past his balls and getting the strongest smell of dirty unwashed ass. I
couldn't resist and I dived down to lick and sniff. He was a bit weirded
out but he let me do it.

Oh! And another dare I remember was when he tied his filthy boxer briefs
around my face with the streaked ass right in my nose. He thought he was
grossing me out but I couldn't have been happier.

Of course I used to smell my own butt as a lil blonde boy who liked the
smell of shit hole but didn't know why. Pretty sure my finger smelled like
butthole for 90% of my primary schooling life. I did that a lot. I loved
the smell. I used to pretend it was other boys stink and I licked my finger
a lot. I used to always lick it clean. Even to this day, it definitely
helps me to cum if there's some ass stink element involved, even if that
means I get to rim a guy who's ass isn't totally spotless (nothing worse
than an ass that smells like soap).

I learned about cocksucking from a kid who lived up the street from me who
would have been about 4 or 5 years older. He was the one who taught me
about sucking. We used to spend hours at his place or in the lane behind
cars with me just sucking his dick. That's why I've always been a giver
sexually. I love to be the one doing the sucking, licking, sniffing and
whatever else, because from that young age I was denied having the favor
returned.

We used to suck a lot. The first time I ever swallowed cum was with him. It
shot out everywhere and I automatically started licking it off his cock
head and off his belly and he was surprised that I wanted to eat it. He
thought it was gross but I told him a blow job wasn't over until the mess
was cleaned up.

The dirtiest thing I ever did with him (or with anyone I think) was one
time when I sucked him off till he cummed while he was on the toilet. He
said it was the hardest he'd ever cummed. I think the fact that he was
straight and rough and tumble meant that he was open to trying some pretty
nasty things with me, so long as I was the one doing the 'nasty' things and
he was the one enjoying them.

I don't mind, I kinda like being the good boy who's always ready to suck
and lick. Nobody taught me about rimming though. That genuinely came
naturally.

And if I'm honest, I've only really been interested in full on anal sex
more recently in my life. It never really occurred to me as a child. I was
totally obsessed with smell and taste. Even to this day my sense of smell
is my most heightened.

I loved tasting dirty things and smelling them. I loved the taste of ass
but also the thought of having my tongue in the exact same space as a boy
shits turned me on. I guess that's partly the reason I love boy ass so
much. Boys don't care about being clean. They don't care about wiping
properly or cleaning in the shower. It's all natural. Pure dirty boy hole.

I went to an all-boys school and I think most of my time in class was spent
with a boner imagining all the dirty stinky asses around me that I could be
enjoying.

I got my butt sniffed back too. I was always a little embarrassed but it
felt good. I was into older guys a lot when I was young. Nothing would have
made me happier than getting my butt sniffed (and fucked) by an older guy,
sucking his cock and swallowing his load.

I'm so glad I found your work and decided to write to you! It makes me so
happy finding other people with the same exact interest. I've told a few
friends over the years very watered down versions of my boyhood naughtiness
but they usually look at me like I'm a total nut job or treat me with pity
like it was some sort of traumatic experience. I never did anything that
was out of my control or that I objected to. It was always with boys who
wanted the same thing and it was just as hot then as it is now, to think
about.

And I'm very honored that you want to use some of my experiences in your
work! Really flattered. Please let me know if you have any other questions!

James is a good boy, everybody.

Everybody meet James.

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28. HAMPER: ZEKE, OLIVER & MARCO

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Holy fuck....it is like Hamper Hell at my sister's house. The hamper is
just inside their master bedroom which is adjacent to the kitchen. There is
absolutely no way to get at that treasure trove if more than one or two
other people are in the house. Everyone congregates right in that area.

And there are the dirty undies of three boys under the age of 13 in that
hamper!

Do you know what torture that is for a confirmed sniffer? I want to just
cry out in agony sometimes, especially if I can see a fresh pair on top of
the pile just a few feet away and I can't get to them.

In the summer, she has a lot of cookouts with friends and neighbors and
me. And of course, the kids. They have a pool in their back yard, and my
youngest nephew, Zeke, always changes into his swim suit in the downstairs
bathroom, leaving his shorts, undies and shirt in a tangled pile on the
bathroom floor.

And I always go in there right after he changes for a deep sniff of his
fragrant little FOTL's. I've been treated to some truly magnificent faint,
sweet racing stripes over this past summer. His scent is absolutely
sublime. Those are the best moments, when Zeke changes so fast in the
bathroom, there's no time to hamper those hot stinkers. I get to grab them
off the floor, natural habitat, and put them to my nose when they're still,
literally, hot from the burner.

Thank you, Zeke. God bless you for that.

And like I said, my sister's hamper in the master bedroom is always
overflowing with all three boys' dirty undies...but there's just no way to
get to it. I mean, truly, if you're sitting downstairs or out on the patio
chatting with your sister and your brother-in-law, how do you casually say,
listen, I need to run inside to have a little me-time with one of your
kid's shit smears, do you mind? I mean, LOL, there's just no graceful way
to do it.

On a couple of occasions, the kids have made a mess of socks and t-shirts
and pajamas laying around, which has afforded me the opportunity, under the
guise of grumpily helping clean up after the messy little scamps, to make
repeated runs to the glorious hamper zone.

These are frantic mad-grabs, taking one unrelated item to the hamper – a
t-shirt maybe, then rummaging through the hamper for another for quick,
drive-by, fleeting pair of undies to sniff. It's maddening. The clock is
running. Five seconds! Find a pair! Sniff! Go back for another pair of
socks on floor! Five more seconds! Find another pair of undies and sniff!
Go back for, I don't know, that jacket that looks a little dirty! One more
trip! One more frantic rummage through the hamper for a new sniff!
Ahhhhhhh! It drives me crazy. It's an excercise in timing, synchronization
and massive, stealty self-control.

If I could turn my fantasy into reality, I would sort the whole hamper
first, take everything else out, and then put all three of my nephew's
dirty undies BACK into the hamper, and then stuff my head down as far as I
could and just huff in the combined stink of all three at the same time.

If I didn't pass out from the lack of oxygen or the overload of bliss, I
would then take each pair individually and sniff and suck them clean while
I jerked my cock into an explosive cum, all over the bedroom carpet. I'd
rub it into the carpet ("Take THAT, Sis, for stationing your hamper in the
hardest place in the house!") and then I'd take the stinkiest pair of boy
undies home for a sweet souvenir. To be enjoyed later. At my leisure.

But fantasy and reality never meet. Oh sure, there have been the rare times
when a pair has been perched right on top and no one was in the kitchen and
I would dash into their bedroom and catch a quick sniff of a nice dirty
pair. It is a terrible risk, but sometimes I just can't walk away from a
pair I know was just covering the hot, ripe bottom of one of my tween-tasty
nephews. Quick, fleeting hamper drive-by's. Sometimes they're the best an
uncle can hope for.

Yesterday was one of those Hamper Hell days.....all morning everyone was
standing around in the kitchen talking and Uncle Dan was itching to sniff a
pair. No such luck, though. My nose was foiled and my cock had to go home
hungry.

But there is a silver lining to this story, the next day it was
pre-arranged that I'd take my nephews and their friend Oliver to play
Putt-Putt and to see the new Hobbit movie. So it was a wonderful day
surrounded by boys.....lots of hugs and body contact and just straight out
perving, especially on Oliver who is my current heart-throb and wet dream!!

While all of the boys were playing games at Putt-Putt yesterday, I was
standing within an inch of him, touching his shoulder with my hand as often
as I could, just the friendly uncle "pat on the shoulder". I could smell
the faint scent of Axe on him.....you know how these tweens/teens like to
smell good!  God if they only knew that their natural scent is enough to
drive a grown man out of his mind.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. The icing on the cake actually happened
this morning when I went over to pick them up for our outing. When I got
there, Oliver was in the boy's bathroom brushing his teeth (he had spent
the night with the three boys). When he finished up and went into the
living room where the other boys were playing on their iPads, I ducked into
the bathroom and locked the door.

HALLELUJAH...Oliver's backpack was in there and he had stuffed his sleeping
shorts into the pocket of that backpack. They were a dark blue pair of
thin, silky shorts and when I brought them up to my nose...sweet fucking
hell...there was the most wonderful, sweet mixture of muskiness and
pheromones in the seat of those shorts.

There were no smudges at all (and I looked at every square inch of fabric),
but the natural scent of that hot little pussy had infused the
garment. This was the kind of stink that is just beautiful....it was soft
and sweet and so perfectly the smell of boy ass.

I truly wanted to bring them home with me, but since that was his only pair
of shorts in the house, there was no way for me to pinch them without
raising suspicion, so I did the next best thing. I pressed the seat of
those shorts that had been rubbing on Oliver's crack all night long right
up to my nose, unzipped my pants, fished out my cock which was already
bursting, and huffed and jacked my way with ten dry, grunting strokes to an
explosively quick cum.  It was a moment of glorious sniffing and an orgasm
that crashed down on me like thunder.

For the rest of the day, I was hanging around Oliver, sniffing him like a
dog looking for a lost bone. Just knowing what his sweet pussy hole smelled
like from his shorts had me hot and yearning all day long.  Every time I
looked at his sweet ass, all I could think of is, "I know what it smells
like. Exactly what it smells like," and "God, how I'd love to be in
there. Fucking. Cumming. Filling it full of my cream."

It took every bit of iron will I have in me yesterday not to just lean in
and run my lips softly up and down that beautiful neck of his. This is a
boy who likes to stay pretty clean and so I am fairly certain that his
little teen wrinkle wasn't all smeared and caked with his leftover poop,
but HOLY FUCKING FUCK FUCK FUCK....did his shorts smell divine. It was the
pure, unadulterated, natural scent of a tween boy's pussy...I wanted to
weep when I smelled those shorts. I am so fucking hard and horny right now
just remembering it.

"Can I fuck you, Oliver?" I'm whispering in my mind to him as I jack
off. "Can you be a good boy and spread your pretty cheeks apart now so I
can put it inside you? Oh yeah, baby. Yes, Oliver. That's a good boy."

You'd fall in love with him instantly. He's geeky smart and so incredibly
polite. I know that he does have a less than perfect home life...his
parents are divorced and he has struggled with that. I just wanted to
shower him with love, while at the same time I wanted to drag him to the
bathroom and pull down his pants and bury my face in his crotch and ass. He
has just the faint beginnings of fuzz on his upper lip, an upper lip that
curls up just the tiniest bit and gives him the sexiest innocent
look. Delicate little face, piercing eyes, perfect nose, sweet little lips,
just the right size for opening wide and bobbing up and down on a hard,
long piece of meat. Mmmm! I wonder how much of mine he could take in that
sweet little mouth before the gag reflex kicked in.

"Oh baby. That's okay. Keep trying."

I'd help him through it and teach him to relax his throat and breathe
through his nose.

I could so imagine those sweet lips wrapped around my cock for the first
time and his awkward attempts to give his first blow job...scraping me with
his teeth every now and then...going too far down and accidently gagging a
second time...but still not stopping, because he needs to taste my
seed....needs to have a man fill his belly with that necessity, that
confusing imperative, that mad new starvation for potency.

"Good boy, Oliver. Suck it all out of me. Eat it all, Oliver. Eat every
bit. I'm going to spray it in your mouth now, baby. Be a good boy and
swallow it all for me. Swallow it all up and grow big and happy and
strong."

You can see it in his eyes. He's looking up, eyes wide and
watering. Nodding his "yes."

Oh fuck, he wants to swallow it. He wants to eat this more than anything.

He has some hair on his legs so I am willing to bet that there are some
lovely downy pubes growing at the base of his four inch spike. I tried
every way possible to get a peek at his pits yesterday to see if he was
growing any hair there, but no luck. Regardless, I know his crotch would be
perfect....his skin is already so creamy and white that I imagine his
crotch is milky white and that his cock will be a lovely pink color, with
the head turning a bit redder when he gets boned up. And the scent of that
crotch.....tween pheromones mixed with sweat, musk and yeast.

FUCK...he could piss on me all day long before I suck every little drop of
the honey juice out of his dick. He has to be making a bit of nut butter
that this point and I would so want to be the first to give him a blow
job...to see the look of surprise-turned-lust in his eyes as I suck that
spike into my mouth and tease that wrinkle of skin right under the head of
his cock...listening to him gasp and hiss, unable to control his hips as
they thrust his cock deep in my mouth.

His little 13-year-old baby spike...oh yummy. Just the first soft, downy
hint of pubes in his V, if any. Crotch full of pheromones. That magic age
when his beautiful, perfect boy penis is just starting to make liquids
other than urine.

Not that a mouthful of his sweet boy piss wouldn't be heaven on earth, but
I want to wash it down with a few squirts of his teeny-tweeny cum
squirts. Oh sweet boy, that's it. Put your babies in me. Just some little
squirts of your cum on my tongue as you grunt and shiver and I help you
squirt out your love by pushing a long, wet finger up your moist little
asshole.

"Nnnggh, nngggh, Oh! Oh!" I can hear his trembling fuck grunts as he grabs
my ears and unloads into a man's mouth for the first time, a sheer
combination of bliss and utter surprise. He didn't know it would feel this
good. "Unngh!" he gasps. "Tickles! Tickles!"

And then it is over. I swallow everything he gives me, his rectum still
gripping and pulsing around my knuckle-deep finger.

Oliver.

My cock drips pre-cum for him. I shake when I'm around him. All because he
left his musky warm sleep shorts in his backpack, and not like the rest of
the boys, in my sister's teasing, maddening, out of reach Hamper from Hell.

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In more successful hamper memories, I once looked after a neighbor's house
while she was away. I had known her – and her son Marco -- since he was
8 years old, and I had fantasized over him a million times. I had come
close to being able to steal his undies a few times but could never quite
make it happen.

He was 12 before I got free access to his hamper and it was a dream come
true. There was no anxiety in the moment. They were away and I was
legitimately in their house and I had it all to myself. I took my time in
his bedroom, going through all his stuff, touching his toys, sniffing his
baseball cap, licking his pillows, climbing naked under his bed sheets. It
was incredible.

And then I pulled his hamper into the middle of the floor and literally
emptied it out on his bedroom carpet and I knew I wouldn't be moving for a
long time, nor did I need to.

Talk about euphoric. I literally rolled in his clothes on the floor,
picking them up, dropping them on me, holding his t-shirts, sniffing the
pits of them, smoothing them over my body as I moaned, putting my throbbing
boy hungry cock inside his sweaty soccer socks and stroking with them - I'm
not sure I've ever had such a massive surge of serotonin since.

It was the pinnacle of my life and I was completed in that moment. I had
perved over this kid for the last 4 years and now here I was with his
hamper with his dirty undies in it and nothing to do but smell every inch
of him deeply, fantasizing him, talking to him as I smelled every scent his
sweaty 12-year-old body left behind:

"Oh, Marco. God, your little cock smells so hot. Your sweet hot butt
smell. Come on baby, spread those cheeks for me. Let me smell that
ass. Back it right into my face. Oh yeah, good boy, good boy. Feed me that
pissy little cock. Grind that stinky little butthole all over my face,
baby. So good, so good."

I came explosively, six times that day, one after another until my cock was
raw red and my balls wouldn't make even the tiniest drop of semen anymore,
sniffing Marco's sweet hot hamper load, and every arousing atom of boy
stink he'd left carelessly behind.

Boys' hampers are a place where magic happens. I walk by them and I freeze
instantly. I gasp and start to sweat. I lose my breath and my train of
thought. I go into a buzzing mode in my head where all the world around me
is simply incoherent white noise.

Every time I meet a pretty boy – the son of a colleague – a friend of
a friend – even some random cute boy I see at the mall, one of my
dearest and most often-repeated fantasies is to just have three hours alone
in his house. He and his parents are out for a movie. I've got the
key. Maybe I'm housesitting. The neighbor next door who brings the mail in
and waters the plants. I don't know. I don't care.

But while they're gone, I let myself in to just lay there by that beautiful
boy's hamper, empty it all out, and sniff every pair of underwear I find –
butt smell, hot tween cock smell -- huff myself silly -- just lay on the
carpet of his little boy bedroom, pants off, sniffing pair after dirty
pair, moaning and euphoric, masturbating over and over and over while I
sniff to my heart's content, just like I did with Marco.

Zekey, let me sniff your beautiful butthole. Let me pick up your undies and
smell what you did.

Oliver, let me sniff your beautiful butthole. Let me pick up your undies
and smell what you did.

Marco, let me sniff your beautiful butthole. Let me pick up your undies and
smell what you did.

Let me make love to all three of you, and when I'm done, let me pull out of
your gripping, heated boyholes, hear your contented sighs, wipe my creamy
dick on your precious undies and take them home in a Ziplock in my pocket,
like a trophy and a talisman.

I'll hang them in my window sill. My reminders. My conquests. My
dreamcatchers.

Hampers are for good boys, everybody.

Everybody sniff hampers.

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29. CLICK: AARON

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My brother is terrible. He has girlfriend after girlfriend and falls in
lust with every one of them. He calls it love of course.

"This is the one, I'm serious," he'll tell me every time.

I don't believe him but I do believe that he believes himself.

My brother works for a cable TV company. He does installations and
occasionally repairs. The work is easy and low paid, but he gets enough
overtime to have a nice apartment and he's only twenty-two.

Yesterday, my brother had to meet the "girl of his dreams" (his words) but
it was a work day and he had a multibox installation he needed to
finish. He had installed three units in a clients house but the third unit
was faulty.

My brother pleaded with me to finish the job on his behalf.

"Just tell them you work for Star Cable," he said.

"I have plans, idiot," I told him.

My brother lives so deeply in his own world he has a moon that revolves
around him.

"You gonna let a kid down?" he asked.

A kid? A K.I.D., KID? Now I was curious.

"What kid?" I asked him.

"The customer's kid. It's his box that won't work. Don't make him cry by
not being there," he replied smirking at me.

My brother was the only person in the world who knew I had a thing for
little boys' underpants.

"All you gotta do, is terminate a cable that runs along the baseboard at
the back of the kid's closet and replace the box," he instructed.

"Wait. What d'you mean, his closet?"

My brother smiled. He wasn't an idiot at all. He knew exactly what he was
doing.

"Kid has a stupidly big closet for his age. And a lot of clothes, and a
laundry hamper inside it that's almost as tall as he is.

That was the penultimate shot and my brother knew it. He had one more
bullet and he knew it was time to load it up. He knew exactly what I was
gonna ask next.

"So, how old is this kid exactly?"

My brother pulled the trigger. The kill shot. He knew it would be painless,
clean and complete.

"He's six," he said.

And my brother got to fall in love (again) with the girl of his dreams
while I did his dirty work.

At the client's house, mom was home with the little guy. It took all I
could muster not to fall to the floor and declare my undying love for him
for the next seven years right there and then.  He was a boygod in every
way and in that moment, I hoped my brother's new girl was not his last. I
could take over all his fucking jobs right now.

Sure enough, with mom telling me, "I'll leave you to it" within minutes I
was in little Aaron's bedroom. It appeared to be a kind of add-on - an
extension - and perhaps was once part of the kitchen. It was on the first
floor next to the kitchen, backing onto the back yard and it had the same
tile on the floor as the kitchen did.

In his room was his little baseball cap on his nightstand, Buzz Lightyear
on the floor and Woody on his bed. I wondered how many Woodys he'd had in
his bed. His little pajamas were folded neatly on top of his drool-stained
white pillow and rows and rows of little green soldiers lined his
windowsill.

Closing his bedroom door and conveniently putting my brother's toolbox
against it, I went right for Aaron's closet, swinging the double doors wide
open. It was a big closet like my brother had told me and looked like it
could've previously been a pantry.

Inside it was rows and rows of little boy clothes all hanging neatly from
white plastic hangers. I flicked through them quickly. Some beautiful sexy
little shorts and teeshirts. I grabbed a pair of blue denim jeans and
opened them up at the back to take a look at the seat of them and shuddered
at the thought of Aaron's little six-year-old stinky bottom inside them.

Time was of the essence, though. Sure enough, as my brother had promised
me, Aaron's tall, wicker laundry hamper was standing in the front left
corner of the closet. I took off the lid and OH MY FUCKING WORD...I nearly
fell over shouting, "Just kill me now, my life is complete."

The sweet 'n' sweaty stink of little boy clothes filled the room as soon as
the lid was off the hamper, the smell of which sent shockwaves through my
entire body like I'd just been tasered. Right on the very top, was a little
pair of Aaron's briefs. Of no surprise to me, they were little cartoon
briefs - Fruit of The Loom, white, with blue piping around them and a Toy
Story 3 logo right above the the cocklet. (Why do they do that?)

Underneath the logo, literally 'at' the cocklet, was the sweetest little
dribbler stain. I began to pant...and sweat...and get all heady...and I
had'n't even sniffed them yet.  In the back of them, was the cutest little
six-year-old-boy bum-rub I'd seen in a long time.

"Ohhh, Aaron's dirty little bottom," I whispered out loud.

I quickly placed them on the floor and grabbed my phone. I had to take a
photo of these little stinkers. They were just that good and good undies
are hard to come by. They're few and far between.

CLICK

Here I was, in the bedroom of a six-year-old boy I don't even know and who
I've only just met and I'm about to sniff the smelly piss and dirty ass
stains in his little underpants and I wanted it more than I wanted to
live. Nothing was going to stop me sniffing them. Nothing.

Outside, I heard laughter. Toy Story undies in hand, I approached the
window and, parting the summer blinds, I looked out into the back yard.

And there he was. In all his six-year-old boygod glory.

It had started to rain and mom, a great mother by all measures, was running
around the back yard while little Aaron chased her, thinking it was the
funniest thing in the world. I stood between two slats of the blinds
looking out at them, but I wasn't watching mom.

My eyes were fixed on Aaron who was darting around the grass in his cute
little bare feet, running after his mom and giggling the whole time. He was
blissfully unaware of his own sexiness and how horny his little body and
his tight little six pack were making me. He was also oblivious to the fact
that as I stood there perving over him, I was holding a pair of his dirty
little underpants in my hand.

I took a quick snap of him on my phone. For prosperity and future jack
offs.

CLICK

Oh, I had fallen instantly and completely in love with Aaron.

As I watched him at play in the back yard, I was immersed in a world which
ran at a different speed to the real world. Everything was slower now and
hyper-real. Rain droplets fell from his young, milky white, kiddy-skin as
he ran around the yard getting soaked in the rain - boundless preteen
energy and giggles - the personification of all that is innocent and
beautiful.

As I observed the purity in which his little world was to him, I looked
down at the ass stain in his dirty little underpants where innocence and
perversion collide and, while watching him bounce around the wet grass on
his little pink feet, I held his underpants to my nose, ass stain front and
center.

As I drew my first, deep, slow sniff of his musky buttstink, my eyes
flickered...and then involuntarily closed...as I tried to emotionally
process the sound of his giggles with the smell of dirty little bottom
right under my nose.

I managed to force my heavy eyelids open but they kept flickering in
protest. I had to look at Aaron while I sniffed his smelly bottom, but I
was intoxicated by him and my rapid eye movement was simply a reaction to
the high.

I did nothing but breath in and out and in again as I watched Aaron through
his bedroom window and I have no idea how long it was - it could've been
three minutes and it may've only been thirty-seconds - but standing there
at his window looking at Aaron and sniffing his stinky little bottom from
his Toy Storys, I exploded in my jeans. I'm not even sure if I was hard. I
probably was, I just couldn't make my mind find the shape of my own cock -
but I felt myself erupt. I put one hand on the windowsill to stop myself
from falling to the floor with my other hand still firmly holding Aaron's
little stinkers in my face.

I regained consciousness and slipped those little stinkers into my
pocket. This was not going to be the last time I perved over Aaron's and
smelled his stinky little six year old bottom.

No way.

They were getting upgraded to free DVR units next week.

Courtesy of me.

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30. FORGETFUL: JACK ALLEN

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Jack Allen is 10, and things are a lot different ever since his baby sister
Sophie was born.

Jack Allen is a good kid, and a clean kid, but he's never much liked taking
baths and showers, so a lot of times he'll get a little stinky, you know,
down there, where his butthole and his balls and his dinky are.

Mom used to say to him all the time, "Pee-yew, Jack Allen! You get in that
tub and take a bath right now! I swear I can smell you from right down the
hall, and if you don't change those underwear, they're going to walk right
out the door all by themselves!"

And Jack Allen would just giggle and he'd throw his stinky undies in the
hamper, kind of giggling to himself as he looked at the stinky fudge
stripe. And then he'd dutifully trudge off to the bathtub, pour a few caps
of Mr. Bubble, and hop in for a good long soak and a play.

"Make sure you wash all the stinky parts," his mom would smile from the
doorway. And as soon as she left, Jack Allen would, giggling as he tickled
his own little butthole and got it all nice and clean with a few swipes of
a slender, long finger.

But ever since Sophie was born, Mom's too tired to even check anymore. If
she still smells Jack Allen's little hiney from right down the hall, she
never says a word anymore. She's got diapers to change and bottles to
fill. Her attention is elsewhere.

And if Jack Allen's underwear are going to walk right out the door all by
themselves, Mom would never notice. When Sophie cries and needs feeding or
changing, which is 24/7, tired old Mom smiles weakly at Jack Allen and off
she goes, back on baby duty.

Jack Allen pretty much has to fend for himself now when it comes to keeping
his privates clean.

And sometimes he remembers, but a lot of times he doesn't.

His record was six days without changing his undies. Those were his
Superman undies. And holy shit, it looked like Superman crapped his
pants. Mom was too busy with Sophie to even notice, but Jack Allen finally
noticed them himself. He was sitting in his beanbag watching Kickin' It on
Disney, and it suddenly occurred to him he could smell his own butt really
bad. More than even usual bad.

So he got up, went to his room, took off his sweats, took off his undies
and looked at the crack, and holy balls, it was dark. And big. It looked
like Superman took a Supershit.

So he hid them down in the hamper, really far down at the bottom, went in
the bathroom, ran the bathtub, grabbed Mr. Bubble and washed his stinky
butthole. But not before he touched the stink and smelled his own finger
and giggled. It was a good one. It was a stinky one. It was a record
breaker.

Tonight, when you babysit, it's not a record breaker but it's close.

Dan and Sherry went out. A long-deserved parents-night out.

Jack Allen's on the couch. Blue t-shirt. Blue sweats.

The baby's next to him. They're watching Disney.

You put the baby in her crib. She goes right to sleep.

Jack Allen watches you watching him.

It's been four days since he changed his undies. He smiles and you
smile. Because he knows you like to play smell games and you can smell him
just as strongly as he can smell himself.

Wordlessly, you drop to your knees and come to him where he is, knees-up on
the couch, barefoot and sweat-clad ass pointed right at your face.

You lower your face into the grommet of his piss-ripe crotch, inhaling rank
maple boy cock and the pissy leftovers of four days of dribbles.

And underneath, his boy-ass overpowers even that fine aroma.

It is sweet and spicy. Basil marinara and Camembert cheese. Vinaigrette and
apple butter. Your mouth waters smelling his cock and his ass.

He giggles. You look up at him and smile.

Gently you lower his sweats, past his legs and down over his bare feet to
the floor.

His underwear, red and yellow, Iron Man, are rank and stinky and deep.

You put your nose directly into the anus button, take a deep hit and your
eyes water as you groan out loud.

So fine. So deep. So rank-fuck-funky.

Seaweed. Lemon pepper. Bean soup. Boy shit. Ass grease.

Your cock is hard and dripping.

"Please," you whisper to him. "Please, Jack Allen."

He lifts his ass and lets you pull his undies down and off.

Your face is in his stinky cock in a second. His pissy-smelling pubis. His
stinky hairless V.

He is hard and giggling, pushing it toward your mouth.

You swallow it and he giggles and fills your mouth with a squirt of
piss. Salty hot boy juice. You moan and swallow.

But it's just a little squirt. Jack Allen doesn't have to go.

You smell and finger his sticky boy butthole. Your finger actually slips,
he's so hot and greasy.

You wish you could fuck him, but he's still too little.

You smell that broccoli, brussels sprout, need-a-bath boy butter, and you
wish like hell you could spend a penny in that stinky hot wishing well.

But instead you lick it. Taste the rich bitter dandelion stems of Jack
Allen's little hiney.

He moans and pushes back against your feasting, moaning lips as he reaches
down with a thumb and a forefinger and strokes and strokes his hard little
spike.

He masturbates himself, and squeaks out a shaky dry cum while you lick his
bittersweet boy box.

Salty and bitter and pungent and strong. Tarragon. Chicken stock. Butternut
squash. His flavor makes you moan as your own cock shoots off untouched.

You lose your load, sticky and hot inside your pants without even touching
yourself. Just from the incredible joy of tasting his hole again.

"Thank you, Jack Allen," you whisper to him softly, coming up for air and
wiping the sweet stink off your lips.

Jack Allen giggles and fingers his ass absent-mindedly as he turns his
attention back to the TV.

You put your hand down your pants. Take a fingerful of cum and touch it to
his puffy red anus, raw and pulsing from the assault of your tongue.

Like cream you rub it on his button. Soothe him with it. Push the cream
inside.

Jack Allen giggles.

You lean in for one more sniff. Poppyseed. Meatballs and lentils. Salt and
vinegar potato chips.

Such a sweet ass. Such a good smell. Such a good flavor.

Jack Allen's a good boy, everybody.

Everybody meet, and taste, Jack Allen.

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31. RECIPE: JACK ALLEN, CONTINUED

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Jack's Old-Fashioned Chocolate Fudge

Ingredients:

1 7-ounce jar marshmallow cream 
1-1/2 cups white sugar 
2/3 cup evaporated milk 
1/4 cup boy butter 
1/4 tsp salty piss 
2 cups milk chocolate shits 
1 cup semi-sweet chocolate shits 
1/2 cup 8-year-old boy nuts 
1 tsp vanilla extract

Directions:

Grease a size 8-10 medium pair of Faded Glory boys' boxer briefs and set
aside.

In a tight, packed rectum over medium heat, combine marshmallow cream,
sugar, evaporated milk, boy butter and salty piss. Bring to a full boil
inside Jack Allen's sticky little shit box and cook for one full day and
night, stirring constantly.

Remove from heat and pour in milk chocolate and semi-sweet chocolate
shits. Wipe anus hastily. Or not at all.

Stir in boy nuts and vanilla. Pour into greased undies. Discard undies into
hamper until fudge stripe is firm.

Sniff, lick and enjoy.

Prep Time: 24 hours.

Serves 1.

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32. WINNER: JOEY

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Picture time. It was the first day of high school. Another milestone to add
to the family photo album. After almost 3 months of carefree summer fun it
was once again time for 12-year-old Joey to dig out his long black school
pants and his new senior school shirt from the bottom of his wardrobe where
he had buried them 11 weeks earlier.

"Joey! Are those your pants from last year? Don't tell me you've had three
months off and in all the time you haven't washed them once! I told you at
the end of last year you were to wash, iron and fold your uniform and put
it away for this year!"

Joey blushed. He remembered his mum telling him this but somewhere in
between water fights with his friends and long days at the beach he had
forgotten.

"Sorry mum. I'll wash them tonight, I swear."

She rolled her eyes and resumed taking the picture.

To tell you the truth Joey hadn't forgotten. He hadn't forgotten at all. In
fact there were a lot of things Joey did with full intent that his mother
put down to carelessness or forgetfulness. For instance he was wearing the
same pair of undies he'd worn all week.

Once a vibrant fluro green, after a week of running around, going to the
toilet and barley wiping, peeing and not shaking his little 4 inch boy cock
and getting wedgied by his friends they were not very vibrant at all
anymore. The back was streaked with suspicious brown marks as well as a
permanent damp patch which sat right over his little virgin boy hole.

The front also had a few permanent damp patches. When his mum had seen him
walking around in them a few days earlier she chastised him and told him he
needed to wipe away the pee with a square of toilet paper and that she was
sick of having to wash his underwear separate from the rest of the families
clothes. Little did she know not only were the piss marks there
intentionally, they weren't all piss marks.

No, Joey had hit the fine age of 12 and was now starting to produce some of
the worlds sweetest honey colored dots of boycum. Because when he jerked
his little boy cock, his back arching and his feet twitching only a few
drops of cum dripped out he never bothered to wipe them away. And so his
cum had mixed in with his piss stains to create a yellow haze where a
bright green once shone.

None of this was a mistake. Not the shit smears, the piss stains or the cum
drops. Joey is a dirty boy. Joey is a naughty boy. Joey is a VERY dirty and
VERY naughty boy.

For the past week Joey had been playing a game with his friends Jamie and
Blake (side note you'll be meeting them in the coming days. They're also
boys I went to school with). The game was simple. 'Lets see who can make
the dirtiest undies in one week. The loser has to sniff the undies of the
other two.'

Joey was not going to lose. He knew he could make the dirtiest undies this
side of the milky way. He knew his bum was stinky. He knew if he didn't
wipe his bum after going to the toilet the boy shit stink would rub off
onto the underwear fabric. He knew that if he didn't shake his little cock
after pissing it would stain the front of the fabric with ripe smelly boy
piss.

And he knew that if he jerked his little boy spike into his undies he'd be
able to further stain the fabric and mark his territory. He was going to
make one of his friends smell all of him. His dirty brown hole, stinky
slimy butt paste, mind-bending raw piss stink and for desert a serving of
sweet boy-ball nectar.

It was a symphony of stink. Every opportunity he had to make them stinkier
he had taken. First of all he'd pushed his finger up through the fabric and
grazed his smelly hole. He could feel the dampness of his hole rubbing off
onto the fabric, seeping in and turning the green into a pale brown. He
sniffed his finger after and instantly felt woozy. The stench of his hole,
even through the fabric of his underwear was overwhelming. Multiply that
stink by 7 days (and 7 stinky hot summer nights tossing and turning in bed)
and he'd made the stench from hell, or heaven depending on what you like.

Today was judging day. He'd meet the other boys in the toilets during lunch
and they'd take off their undies together and compare the stink. He
couldn't wait to see the loser sniff his undies. He couldn't wait to see
the look on their face as the stench of his poopy hole entered their
nostrils. The scent of 7 days of unwashed hole.

Poop, sweat and grease all combined to make a fine boy batter. He'd make
sure they got a whiff of his piss too, and smell the stale stench of the
fabric where his little hairless balls had sat for 7 whole stink filled
days. As a final punishment he'd make sure they sniffed one of his cum
stains. He'd only tell the loser after that it was actually his ball juice
they were sniffing. He couldn't wait to see their faces.

He couldn't wait to see their faces as they smelled his undies.

His poop.

His sweat.

His shit hole.

His piss.

His cock.

His cum.

He couldn't wait until they smelled all of him.

Joey's a good boy, everybody.

Everybody meet Joey.

(I think we have a winner).

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33. BEACH: JACKSON R.

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My little friend Jackson, a twelve year old blonde beauty from California,
loved hanging out at Santa Monica beach with the younger boys.

Jackson wasn't interested in girls like many of his same-aged friends were
becoming. He had 'gone out' with one girl, twelve year old Amy, who was
admittedly cute and had expressed a dreamy-eyed crush on him, only to find
out that despite spending his weekly allowance on her on pizza and
ice-cream, she wouldn't let him finger her. Worse than that, when he popped
a boner in his shorts and positioned himself so she could see it, she
turned away from him.

"Some fucking crush you've got on me," he thought to himself.

For a twelve year old boy with hormones raging, as horny as a rabbit-whore
on speed, Jackson was done with girls already. He pretty much ignored all
the interest from the local girls (and he got a lot of it) as well as all
their stupid games of anonymous text messaging like, "my friend thinks ur
hot, wd u go on a date with her?"

"Only if she's gonna suck my cock," he considered responding with. But he
didn't. He ignored them. He had pretty much decided that unless a girl came
straight out with something like, "I'll let you cum in my face if you go on
a date with me," he was done with them. Fuck them. Bitches.

Boys were different. Fuck, they made Jackson horny, especially if they were
younger than him. Living right by Santa Monica beach, Jackson had a
smorgasbord of boys at his disposal - a veritable feast of prepubescent
sexy little boys. Just the thought of sucking their little boners and
licking their asscracks drove Jackson wild.

Noah was no exception. He was only ten years old and had lived in Cali
since he was six. He had told Jackson where he came from but it was a
confusing story which Jackson had since forgotten. It didn't matter to
Jackson anyway, all that mattered was how fucking stunning Noah was to
him. Noah had a very appealing non-specific 'Cali-Asian' quality about him
and Jackson barely went a single day without jacking off thinking about
him.

Jackson wanted to suck him, lick his asshole and to feel his own cock
sinking inside Noah's bottom. When his parents were out and Jackson knew he
was home alone, he would frantically jack off thinking about Noah.

"Ohhhhhh, fuckkkkkk...NO-AHHHHHH," he would scream out as his boygasm
released him from his pent up sexual tension as he imagined his twelve year
old cock buried inside Noah's tight little ten year old boy hole.

Jackson had a major crush on Noah. It wasn't like the crush that Amy had
had on him. Little frigid bitch. No, this was an all out lust-inspired
crush. If Noah popped a boner and positioned himself so that Jackson could
see it just like he had done on his date with Amy, Jackson wouldn't be
turning away like she did, he'd be bending down so fast to suck on Noah's
little bone that you'd see vapor trails on the back of his head.

I loved Jackson like he loved Noah and I loved watching him when he was
around him. Of course, at the time, Jackson had no idea I knew he liked
boys and how much of a crush he had on Noah, but for a boylover who hails
from the dizzy origins of preteen boy loving himself, it was never going to
pass me by. At some point, I was going to use my knowledge of Jackson's
lust for boys to my advantage but for now, it was just beautiful to observe
an emerging, ever-increasing lust develop in a preteen boy-loving boy.

I would take my camera with my 18-300mm zoom lens to the beach and I would
hang out and watch Jackson play with the other local boys, including
Noah. I would look down the long end of my lens and be able to see them
close up despite being far away enough to be nothing more than a speckle to
them.

I loved watching Jackson get all glazy-eyed when he was with Noah. At
times, I would think to myself, "Geez, Jackson, you wanna be careful dude,
he's gonna see you looking at him like that and you'll be busted," but Noah
never noticed. I guess he was young and innocent and didn't have the
baseline I had, but I never missed Jackson's lust for Noah and Saturday
afternoon, July 19, 2014 at Santa Monica beach was no exception.

As I saw a few boys gather around each other in the distance, I caught
Jackson looking at Noah who was stood just to the right of him. Even from a
fair distance away, I could tell Jackson was just staring at him in lust
over his ten year old boy body. I picked up my camera and set my lens to
300mm.

All I could see through my camera was a twelve year old boy so consumed
with lust for a ten year old boy that he hadn't noticed his excitement had
manifested itself in a stonking big boner under his surf suit. Yes, despite
only being twelve years old, Jackson was so consumed by lust that his
little cock was now rock-fucking-hard under his suit.

Jackson's four inch, skinny boy bone was literally sticking right and it
was so obvious. It was so erect, that it was stretching away from his
little boy balls so much so that you could see the outline of each of them
under the crotch seam of his wet suit. It was like, "here's my balls and
here's my erection."

The look on Jackson's face. He was so consumed with lust for Noah that he
was stood there, boned up like a monkey on Viagra just staring at him and
practically drooling. He was holding his cellphone in his hand waiting for
Noah to peel himself out of his wet suit so that he could secretly snap a
pic or two of him bending over and have something to jack off too later
when he was home alone.

It was a beautiful moment in my observation of Jackson's developing sexual
interest in boys and at the time, I realized this may become the
fundamental exhibit I use to my advantage. After all, I'm not sure how
Jackson's friends, frigid Amy or Noah's parents would feel if this photo
became known to them.

In fact, with such powerful "red-handed" evidence of his boylust, I figured
I should be able to use this to "encourage" Jackson into letting me jack
off while I kneel behind him and sniff his sweaty, dirty little smelly
twelve year old ass.

It's just good to have a picture in your pocket for possibilities. Don't
you think?

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34. ROADTRIP: MAX

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Those long road trips I make with my bothers and my 7-year-old nephew, Max,
can be as fun as they are tiring.

Days of heading in one direction for hours on end with only gas station
coffee and pork rinds to keep us going.

It's not healthy but it works.

But I wonder why I am the only one who notices that every time Max falls
asleep he pops a little boner in his pajamas.

I mean, I'm sensitized as far as little boys are concerned, for sure, but
fuck...I can't be the only one who notices that little hard thimble-cock
tenting out his little pj's can I?

Or do my brothers notice it and turn a blind eye?

I mean, I'm trying to turn a blind eye too, but it's close quarters in this
car when we bed down for the night and talk about blind eyes, if I turn
over near Max I might just get one.

The amount of times I've thought about secretly pulling those pajamas away
from his tummy so I could just see it.

You know, like once...to have an image in my mind.

Or to take a quick photo of it.

To know that I have see Max's 7-year-old erection in the flesh.

So damn difficult in a car of multiple bodies on reclined seats.

If only he would wear loose fitting shorts instead.

Well, today, after 15 hours of driving, he's gonna.

I have a plan.

When I'm rooting in the trunk for bottles of water under all the pork rind
crumbs, I'll find Max's pj's and I'm having an accident with them.

"Ohhh shit, I just spilled my coffee over Max's pajamas and soaked them," I
shouted back into the car.

"Don't worry about it," my brother shouted back, "Max can sleep in his
shorts."

"I was fucking banking on it," I said to myself under my breath as I
stuffed Max's pajamas back into his bag.

"You ain't hiding no boy boners from me tonight you cock-teasing lil'
fuckers," I found myself saying to them like they were some kind of life
form.

And Max's loose fitting shorts didn't disappoint.

And neither did Max.

There it was.

Max was asleep, but there it was. A perfect view of his dozing, rock-hard
baby boner. Firm as a little Nerf dart, pink at the tip and ready to
please.

The minute I saw it, I knew Max and I were about to know each other's
pee-pee's intimately.  In fact, I offered to babysit the next weekend and
my brother said yes.

But oh my, look at the time. I guess we'll save that for "Smell This 10."

In the meantime, look at that perfect little cock, boyfans. Pink and tiny
and long and throbbing. Just begging for some education. Let's teach it
next time, huh?

Max is a good boy everybody.

Everybody meet Max.

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35. SCARECROW: CARTER

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"Hey Uncle Mark, Can you help me take my makeup off when we get home?"

I looked up from whatever claptrap I was perusing on Facebook to see the
cutest little scarecrow running up to me, excited as always to see his
favorite Uncle.

I had stopped by the gymnastic studio to pick up Carter for Zach, who had
to run off at the last minute to take his daughter to some other
function. Of course, I was glad to help out. The time I spent with Carter
was so precious and I loved him as if he were my own.

The ride back to the house passed rapidly as Carter chattered away
animatedly about the trophy he won for having the best makeup and costume.
It was a joy to see how happy and proud he was.

Once we got to the house, we went upstairs to Carter's bathroom and I
grabbed the Kleenex face wipes and some cold cream. I sat down on the
toilet seat and pulled Carter up between my spread legs so I could get to
his face.

He was just adorable with all the yellow and brown on his face. I began to
carefully wipe off all the makeup, revealing the hot little stinker
underneath, Carter giggling the whole time because the wipes were tickling
his face.

It was so erotic to be touching his face and his lips with my hands, slowly
revealing the beautiful, freckle-faced angel hiding underneath that mask.
I couldn't help but just let my fingers touch him....skin to
skin....feeling the electricity shoot up into me and cause my cock to get
painfully hard. Surely Carter could see my erection pushing up in my pants,
but if he did, he didn't say anything.

Once his face was clean, I put my hands on his round little bottom and
pulled him up closer to me, tight enough that his scarecrow covered crotch
was pressing against mine.

"Carter, now that your face is clean, do you want to give Uncle Mark a nice
thank you?"  Carter immediately blushed a bright red and flashed me one of
his sexy little smirks.

"Yep Uncle Mark, but only if you are gonna to play some weenie games with
me?"

As soon as he said it, he blushed even more scarlet and looked down at this
feet.  He was being naughty, but at the same time, he was still a bit
embarrassed knowing what he was suggesting. I was only too happy to comply
with his wishes.

"What should we do first Carter?" I asked him because it was so fucking hot
to hear him ask for the naughty things he wanted.

"Duh..you know Uncle Mark...you know?"

Teasing him a bit more I said " Carter, you know the rules. You have to
tell Uncle Mark what you want".

He huffed a bit hoping I would relent, but seeing that I wasn't going to
change my mind he asked in his shy, quiet voice "Will you kiss me Uncle
Mark?"

Fuck...that was so hot coming out of his eight year old mouth.....a mouth
that was made for kissing with those nice plump lips of his.....lips that
were still damp and glistening from the cleaning we had just done. Not
wanting to tease him to the point of frustration, I leaned in and gave him
a nice, chaste peck on the lips and pulled back.

Then I got the Carter eye roll....this was not what he wanted and he knew
that I knew it!! "You gotta do it right, like a grown up Uncle Mark!"
God.....that kid could be so sexy, especially when he was being serious.

So I leaned back in and pressed my lips to his and began to brush my tongue
against his mouth, feeling him let his teeth part so my tongue could slide
into his sweet, wet mouth and taste him...taste whatever candy he had been
eating at the gymnastics party.....it taste faintly like grape soda, but
mostly it was just hot, moist boy mouth. Someone was moaning at this point
and I realized it was me moaning into Carter's mouth I was so caught up in
the excitement of the moment.

I could feel him pressing himself more tightly against me and I slipped my
hands down inside his costume and his underwear and just squeezed his hot
little buns. I let my fingers graze along the entrance to his crack,
feeling the heat and the moisture trapped between his cheeks.

His reaction was immediate. He pressed his crotch even harder against me
and pulled back his face from mine...

"Uncle Mark....please do the other stuff.....Please"

"You mean squeeze your little cheeks like this?" I said and gave his
backside another squeeze for good measure.

"You know Uncle Mark....the weenie stuff". He was almost pleading at this
point and I was ready to play the weenie stuff myself.

I quickly turned him around and pulled down his costume pants and underwear
and shed my own clothes at the same time and sat back down on the toilet
seat lid. I pulled Carter back against me so that my slimy cock was pressed
up against his crack like a hot dog trying to jump into the bun.

I leaned down and whispered in his ear..."Carter is this what you want? Do
you want Uncle Mark to stick his weenie up inside your poop hole?"

Two thing happened simultaneously.....he pressed his naked ass harder
against my cock and hissed out a plaintive "please"....

I knew his pussy was going to be slick and greasy, but to insure I didn't
cause him too much discomfort, I grabbed the cold cream that was handy and
smeared a glob on my cock and eased the head down between his cheeks and up
against his pussy wrinkle.

God he was so hot and I could smell the stink of all that butterscotch
goodness smeared across his hole.

"Carter, Uncle Mark has his weenie ready to go....you know what do to now"
"Just remember to push out like you need to take a big poop so it won't
hurt so much at first. "

And sweet fucking hell.....this kid knew what he wanted!! He pressed
himself back against me and I could feel him straining and bearing down,
trying to open his tight little pussy as much as he could.  For a moment it
was as if nothing was going to happen and then I could feel his muscle ring
give every so slightly and slowly my cockhead popped in past his sphincter
and lodged inside his boy pussy.

"Aaaaaaaahhhhhhh........Uncle Mark....it's too big.....it's too big!!!"
Carter was whimpering just a bit so I put my arms around his chest and just
held him there and whispered in his ear that I loved him and that he should
just relax. We would go slow and stop if it hurt too much.

After what seemed like hours, he sighed and began to push back against me
slowly, letting my length penetrate his guts and pry open his special
place. He let the breath explode from him once he had backed himself all
the way onto my cock and grunted. I was deep in him and ready to fuck his
brains out, but we needed to go at his pace and so I just let my cock soak
and simmer in his moist, hot slimy guts.

"Carter...are you ready for Uncle Mark to give you those good tingles?"

His only answer was a nod of his head to proceed...and so the dance began
once again. I pulled him up onto my lap and began to slowly fuck myself up
into his clinging pussy walls. Stimulating those nerve ending all around
his boy hole and battering his love nut with every stroke up into my
precious Carter.

He was almost like a rag doll as he flopped back against my chest and let
me violate his most intimate parts.  I was already so heated up that I knew
this fuck would not last long and I needed Carter to enjoy this as much as
me.

I held one arm across his chest and began to stroke his little cock with my
other hand as I continued to fuck him. God...it never got old....I couldn't
believe that his beautiful, hot boy was sitting on my cock and I was fully
embedded in his ass fucking us both into nirvana.

His little "weenie" was starting to come to life with the combined
stimulation of my fingers and the battering his prostate was taking. He was
beginning to moan more audibly and I could feel wetness around his cock,
knowing that he was losing control of his bladder as my cock pressed up
into him...letting dribbles of piss run down across my hand.

I could smell his ass much more sharply now....the smell of a boy's
insides....the smell of his open hole and the pussy slime that was coating
my cock shaft with every push up into him.  We were careening toward an
explosive finish........each of us ready to reach that sublime moment when
a man breeds a boy fully and completely.

I was almost ready to nut and Carter was trying to fuck his little cock up
into my hand to increase the good feelings.  I pushed harder and faster up
into his moist, squelching stinkpit only a few strokes from blasting his
guts with my baby batter when I opened my eyes and saw Mike standing
outside the bathroom door watching me fuck Carter...watching me fuck and
violate his son.......watching for the moment when I would breed his
son........ I don't know how long he had been standing there, but long
enough for him to drop his pants and begin frantically jacking himself to
the scene before him.

That was all it took for me to lose it and force myself up into Carter one
last time and explode....painting his pussy walls with my swimmers. I was
so lost in the moment that I honestly don't know if Carter got his "big
tingles" or not.....he was laying limp against my chest and I could feel
the ball slime beginning to ooze out of his backside and down onto my nuts.
Mike had pulled back into the shadows of the hallway giving us a more
private moment.

"I love you Carter....you know that don't you? Uncle Mark loves his
nephew"......Carter's only response was a quiet "mmmmmmm....yeah Uncle
Mark....thanks for playing weenie with me"........

"Anytime sweet boy...anytime."

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36. DOGGIE: JACKSON B.

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I just imagine being on my knees behind him.

Ohhhh, yes, Jackson. Good boy. Peel your undies down so I can smell your
bottom. That's it, pretty boy. Butt in the air. Just like a doggie. Let's
play Doggie Sniffers.

Jackson giggles.

That's it, good boy, right under your cheeks there so Uncle Craig can get
his nose deep between your lil botty cheeks and sniff you.

Ohhhhh Jackson (jacking while sniffing him), you make Uncle Craig sooooo
happy when you let him smell your bottom.

You're such a good boy for Uncle Craig.

You're a good boy for not taking a shower yesterday and you're a good boy
for having a smelly bottom for Uncle Craig to sniff like this.

What's that, Jackson? No...no...you don't have to do ANYTHING...just stand
there and let Uncle Craig run his nose up and down your butt cheeks.

What's that? Why is the floor is shaking? It's because Uncle Craig is so
excited to be sniffing your stinky bottom that he's playing with his boner
but Uncle Craig only has a boner because he loves the smell of your bottom,
Jackson.

Uncle Craig wants to smell your bottom like this every day.

(Jerking) "Oh Jackkkksonnnnn, your little bottom is so stinky, mmmmmmm!"

(Jerking and sniffing like a madman) "Tell me your name..."

"Jackson."

(Jerking and sniffing like a madman) "Tell me how old you are..."

"I'm eight."

(Jerking and sniffing like a madman) "Are you a little boy or a little
girl?"

"A boy."

(Jerking and sniffing like a madman) "And what am I doing right now?"

"You're sniffing my butt."

(Jerking and sniffing like a madman) "And how does Uncle Craig like your
butt to smell?"  "Stinky."

"Ohhh yeah, good boy. And how does it feel?"

"Nice"

"You can say more, Jackson, if you like. Just say how you really feel. If
you wanna curse, you can. Do you love it Jackson?"

"Yes"

"What do you love?"

"I love it when you sniff my butt"

(Jerking/Sniffing) "Oh yess, good boy, you like it when I sniff your stinky
bottom, don't you?"

"Yeah"

(Jerking/Sniffing) "Good boy, say it, say it. Say `sniff my butt' to me..."

(Giggling) "Sniff my butt, heehee."

(Jerking/Sniffing) "Mmm, yeah, say it again, Jackson, but tell me what your
butt smells like."

"Sniff my stinky butt."

(Jerking/Sniffing) "Ohh yeahhh, Jackson. Now I want you to tell me to sniff
your butt, but I want you to use some curse words okay?"

"I'm not allowed."

"I just gave you permission. You can say whatever you want and I won't tell
anybody."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

(pauses)

"Sniff my ass."

(Jerking/Sniffing) "Yesss...say stinky too..."

"Sniff my stinky ass."

(Jerking/Sniffing) "Ohhh yessss, say it with some more cursing, Jackson."

"SNIFF my FUCKING STINKY ASS Uncle Craig!"

(Jerking/Sniffing) "Ohhhhh, Jackson! What a good boy you are for Uncle
Craig!"

(Explodesssssssssssssssssssss. gussssssssshhhhawwwwwwwwwwughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh)

Breath, breath...breath.

"Ohhhhhhh, Jackson. Good boy. You can pull them up now."

(Shaking, quivering. It was SO good).

"I love playing Doggie Sniffers with you."

Fuck, he smells good.

"Good boy, Jackson. Good boy."

My whole cock is spent and happy.

Until next time, Jackson...thank you.

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37. STUDENT: AUSTIN

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"is this brad?" read the new text message on my phone.

I inspected the number - unrecognized - and took a swig of my Grande dark
roast at Miller's coffee shop where I'd spent the last four hours wrestling
with the characters of my latest screenplay.

"Yep, who this?" I punched into my phone. Before I could finish typing
another line of dialogue on my laptop, my phone pinged again. Same number.

It read, "jason imma friend of austins".

Austin was a seventh grader at Worlington Heights Middle School. Striking
in his appearance, he was the epitome of boy innocence and beauty. Once I'd
met him, I considered pulling out of teaching him because I wasn't sure I'd
be able to keep my hands off such a hot young boy.

His mother, a single parent, had found me on the internet and was paying me
to give Austin after-school tuition to better his English. A kind and
duteous mother, little did she (or I for that matter) know how horny her 13
year old son was. Unlike her, however, I found out very quickly.

"We don't say, 'They played brilliant,' I told him as I marked up
corrections on his narrative essay about his soccer team.

He looked stunning today and I found myself obsessing over his succulent
reddish-pink lips. "If only I could just gently suck on his bottom lip I
would die happy," I thought to myself.

His hair - which transitioned between blond and dirty blonde - was cropped
short and he had quiffed it with some gel at the front. His pool blue eyes
shone brightly as though they had battery-powered LEDs behind them and they
practically lit up the small study in my house where I held my teaching
sessions.

Austin's choice of clothes always had me drooling. He'd look good in
anything, but Austin was one cool kid. Today, he was wearing a thick, dark
blue AE turtle neck sweater with the AE Eagle logo in white across the
chest. He wore dark blue, Hollister 'destroyed' jeans with cute little rips
and tears in them.

If I had met a cuter example of a just-turned-teen boy I couldn't remember
when it was. I literally ached to smell him. In my bed at night, I would
wonder how smelly his bottom would have to be before I pulled my head away
from him, but in the room, in his presence, I was so sexually captivated by
him that I knew I would sniff his bottom no matter how dirty it was.

I also found myself regularly fantasizing about Austin dangling his sweaty
balls back and forth over my face while he jerked himself off, my nose and
mouth hungry for the salt and vinegar, rancid, acidic tang of his young,
unwashed 13 year old nuts.

I was in awe of him today.

My camera was on my desk and I was desperately trying to think of a reason
why I might ask him if he'd let me take a photo of him. I mean, there's no
yearbook with private tuition. If only I could think of something.

"Have you ever had a blow job?" he suddenly blurted out. I was
floored. Austin could tell he had floored me, probably by the limited gap
between the floor and my bottom jaw. Had a 13 year old boy really just
asked me if I'd ever had a blow job?  A 13 year old who looked like butter
wouldn't melt in his mouth.

"It's okay," he continued, "you don't have to answer me if you don't want
to."

My tongue wrestled with my cotton mouth before finally finding a shape that
would allow me to form words around it.

"Why do you...(clearing my throat)...why do you ask?"

"I've heard other boys talking about it at school but I don't know if it's
true."

"Don't know if what's true?"

"Like...if people do it. If people actually...y'know...suck and
stuff....like if anyone has actually had their dick sucked."

My stomach was turning somersaults. My cheeks felt swollen - frozen - like
someone had gone 'tag, tag' with a staple gun on each cheek.

"Is this something you normally think about when you're doing homework?" My
tummy turned over again.

"I think about it all the time...I just don't know if anyone would actually
suck my dick," Austin said with an innocent interest that just stole my
heart.

"I would say it's pretty typical to feel desperate to have your dick sucked
at your age, Austin," I told him sincerely and if emotional chemistry could
be measured, Austin and I spent the next twenty-five minutes looking into
each others eyes, gazing at our souls. In reality, it was probably
twenty-five seconds, but if a conversation can be intimate and revealing, a
soul-to-soul meditation of someone's eyes can reveal so much more than
words.

I made two more hasty corrections to Austin's essay sans any explanation
and his work was rendered complete for the session. It was time to give
Austin some extra-curricular tuition in the remaining twenty minutes before
his mom arrived to pick him up.

"Stand up," I said to him, my voice softer in tone and a few decibels lower
than my teacher voice.

Austin stood up, his fingers twitching by his sides. He was nervous. He
clenched his fists together twice and then relaxed his hands as if by
releasing the nervous energy through his fingertips.

I lifted myself from my chair - but I didn't stand. I immediately went to
my knees. If it wasn't obvious to Austin before as to why I had asked him
to stand up, I'm pretty sure it was now. I shuffled my left knee across the
parquet floor, followed by my right, each shuffle taking me a foot closer
to Austin until I was right in front of him.

I looked up.

Austin had been looking down at me but when my eyes met his, he looked
away, staring right ahead as if in some way suggesting he hadn't noticed
where I was. His face gave nothing away but what it hid about his feelings,
his heart revealed. It was practically jumping out of him. From my lower
vantage point, I could see his little rib cage expanding and retracting as
though giving life to the white eagle across his chest.

I took a deep breath to catch the beat of my own heart, then lowered my
head once more, the front of Austin's crotch only inches from my face.  I
lifted my quivering hands and tucked the end of my fingers into the top of
Austin's jeans. With my forefingers on the underside of them, I pressed my
thumbs onto the top button of Austin's fly and wrestled it through the
corresponding slit in the fabric of his jeans.

Just fumbling around with the fly of Austin's jeans without any resistance
from him was almost enough to put me over the edge. I mean, I had
fantasized about doing much greater things with him but in reality, in this
moment, I was immersed in one of most erotic situations I had ever
experienced in my life. I was on my knees in front of one of the prettiest
little boys I had ever seen and he was letting me undo the button on his
fly and he knew I wasn't doing it for any other reason than to get to his
dick.

As the second button popped open, I felt the pressure of Austin's little
cock press against the underside of his fly. I exhaled as quietly as I
could but it resonated around my small office like the roar of a crowd.

"Sorry, sorry....I'm just getting excited," I mumbled in a half whisper.

"Me too," Austin whispered back as his third button popped open between my
fingers. Austin clenched his bottom cheeks together and tightened his tummy
muscles before letting out a sigh as his rising boybone began to press hard
against his fly.

I knew the forth and final button would pop open by itself if I just pulled
down on either side of his now three-quarter open fly. I gently opened it
up, revealing his underwear underneath them - vanilla blue and gray plaid
boxers.

Austin was all boy.

I pulled harder on his fly and as expected, the forth button popped open
without any thumb-fumbling from me. As it did, I watched in awe as Austin's
concealed and restrained penis journeyed in an anti-clockwise rotation from
its originating six o'clock pressed-down position to an unmistakably proud
presence at the top of the hour.

Fuck! I was on my knees in front of a boy I was entrusted to teach English
to. I had opened the fly on his jeans and his little teenage cock was
sticking up in his boxers behind them as hard as the rocks of Dundee.  I
held out my hands and took the sides of his jeans between my thumbs and
first two fingers and gently unpeeled them from the rise and fall of the
cheeks of his bottom. Once 'over the hump' they slid down his smooth,
hairless legs to his ankles.

I screamed, "fuckkk!" inside my head. I was on my knees in front of a cute
13 year old boy whose jeans were around his ankles and his little bonered
cock tenting out his little boxers.  Austin started to rock gently back and
forth and his breathing got heavier. He dug his thumb of his right hand
into the side of his boxers and pulled them down slightly on one side.

"Oh, Austin," I moaned out gently.

"Please. Please suck my dick," he whispered back.

I tugged down on Austin's boxers, releasing Austin's boymember into the
open room and it looked relieved to finally be free. At least in this
moment, it was the most beautiful 13 year old boy cock I had ever seen,
made all the more beautiful by virtue of the fact that it belonged to one
of the hottest boys on the planet.  Austin's boxers rested under his butt
cheeks, the elasticated waistband holding them against his upper legs.  I
went to tug on them further but Austin dug his fingers into them.

"Don't take them down anymore...in case my mom comes back," Austin
whispered. His words sent shivers through my body. The fact that he knew
what was going on and recognized that it was to be kept as secret as the
launch code to a nuclear missile was erotically intoxicating.

"Okay, cool," I whispered back, "can I just look at it for a while?"

"Yeah."

Despite the hardness of the parquet floor causing spikes of pain through my
knees, nothing short of a tornado was going to get me to my feet.  I knelt
in awe in front of my boy prize, his little cock, firm and hardened before
my eyes. It was beautiful. He was circumcised and the peel of his cut skin
cascaded delicate transitions of a pink and caramel rainbow throughout its
modest length.

He was all of three inches with a proud, pink acorn ahead aloft, outlined
by a violet line around the rim of it - the same violet color as his
little-slit-cumhole.  At the base of it were several whispy "first hairs"
of a teenage boy, hardly present but noticeable enough to say, "I'm a big
boy now."  His no-doubt-recently dropped little hairless balls hung low
under his cock like glass marbles in a netted bag on a display stand and
his right one was lower than his left.

"Fuck," I screamed out in my head. Five minutes ago, I was teaching Austin
the difference between adjectives and adverbs and now he's got his little
cock in my face. His mom was coming to collect him soon. She had trusted me
with his care and I had gotten on my knees and pulled her son's jeans and
boxers down so I could suck his little boycock.

I couldn't believe where I was. Austin was just stood there in front of me
- erect - his hands by the sides of his legs with his fingers curled
under. About seven or eight hairs sprouted some length beyond the embryonic
whispiness of soft little hairs that had started to form over his pubic
area.

"I wanna take a photo of it, Austin," I declared, plucking up the courage
to ask from somewhere deep within me.

"Okay," he whispered back softly.  I told him he was a good boy and quickly
grabbed my camera off my desk.

I positioned myself slightly to the right of him and above his cock, so the
camera lens could look down the top side of it.

Click.

Quickly repositioning myself to the other side, I took another photo.

Click.

My camera made quite a noise as I quickly put it to rest on the brash
acoustics of the parquet floor. I grabbed Austin by his hips and pulled his
beautiful three inch boybone into my face, opening my mouth like I was his
docking station and sucking right down to the base of it - those few stray
pubic hairs tickling my chin and nose as I rolled my tongue around his
throbbing boycock inside my mouth.

He tasted so good - kinda yeasty and young and a little pissy and, being
locked right down to the base of him, I could smell the raw, ripe tang of
those first hairs, sweaty and raunchy as I breathed him in and began to
moan as I gave 13 year old Austin his very first blow job.

As I rolled my tongue around Austin's little boner, I remember thinking I
don't ever want to let go of it. As I was pondering those thoughts, Austin
pulled back and I felt three inches of prime boy bone-in meat slip out of
my mouth, my lips closing to a tip as his acorn head tapered its way
out. It sprung upward and I felt the underside of it press against my face,
wet with my own saliva, as I felt Austin's hands cup the underside of the
back of my head.

I opened my eyes and all I could see was cock. It was pushed right into my
face. I couldn't focus on it but I could feel it and I could smell
it. Tender young, undeveloped little boy cock all over my face.

I felt Austin pull himself back a little more and then I felt his slippery
wet acorn touch my lips again. I didn't so much open them as feel him press
inside them, forcefully, surging his torso forward and making sure his cock
went deep inside my mouth in one hard thrust. I felt his hands on the
underside of the back of my head as he pulled me into his groin with a
primeval grunt followed by a heavy moan of appreciation from me.

With my head firmly held in his young hands, Austin dived into a
face-fucking rhythm of thrusting in and out of my mouth. I opened my lips
wider than the circumference of his cock and despite being face fucked hard
now, I managed to shout out in a semi-coherent sexually-induced moan,
"Mmmm, Austin, fuck me! Fuck my face!"

Austin pounded my mouth absent any respect for his English teacher. I was
his. He owned me. All inhibitions together with the tentative pre-play had
gone out of the window and he was fucking my head whether I liked it or
not. I felt his pubic bone slamming against my face as he thrust his cock
into my mouth. "If only he could reach it, he'd be deep throating me now,"
I thought to myself.

I was in awe of him as his young teen cock thrust back and forth into my
heavily salivating mouth. I tried to pull back a few times to catch my
breath but when I did, Austin put more pressure on his hands, stopping me
from pulling away.

He was beginning to bend at his knees, awkwardly shifting on the parquet
floor, restrained by his jeans around his ankles and his boxers around his
upper legs.

"Fuck me hard, Austin," I moaned out loudly between the thrusting of his
cock inside my mouth.

Austin's breathing got heavier. I could hear him exhaling out of his
nostrils and I managed to raise my eyes to look up at him. His head was
thrown back, his lips pursed and he was breathing heavily as he fucked my
face like a rabbit on crack with his three inch bone.

His breathing began to transfer from his nostrils to his throat. He
whimpered and groaned and grunted and began to release a few "ohhh fucks"
in between. This little 13 year old boy who had struggled to differentiate
between an adverb and an adjective was having no problem knowing how to use
his cock in a mouth for the very first time in his life.

"Oh fuck, I'm gonna cum," he moaned. I reciprocated with a moaned-out
verbal thumbs up to him.

"I'm gonna....I'm gonna....I'm gonna.....fuck! I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna
cum, I'm gonna cum," he moaned out loud.

With his young, barely-teen cock in my mouth, slowing right down now, I
watched him tip his head from looking up to looking right down at me, his
little hands gripping my head like gun metal magnets.

"I'm cumming," was the last two words I heard Austin grunt his way
through. His breathing slowed in pace but was more intense now and his face
contorted as though he'd been electrocuted. Austin was going into his very
first non-solo climax. I felt a rush of wet warmth splatter across the back
of my throat as Austin threw his head back again with an unrestrained
grunt.

I swallowed quickly. My taste buds exploded like fireworks with the sharp,
almost chlorine-like, salty taste of Austin's 13 year old boy jizz. One
more, no, two...three globs of boyspunk swirled over my tongue like oil on
water before hitting the back of my throat all at the same time. I gulped
down and felt the flood of warm, creamy Austincum sink into my stomach.

Fuck! Austin had orgasmed in my mouth and cum down my throat.

A car pulled up outside and Austin quickly tugged at his boxers, pulling
them up quickly, followed by his jeans.

"Thanks, Brad," he shouted back at me as I stood at the front door and
watched him walk off with his mom. He turned to me slightly and, with a
cheeky grin on his face that only a young boy could muster, he popped one
of his buttons back into place on his jeans before turning back around and
skipping off ahead of his mom to the car.

The text read, "jason imma friend of austins".

I looked up from my phone and my entire central nervous system shook. My
lust felt so visceral that I thought another coffee-head might see it
oozing from my pores like the steam from Miller's dark roast was rising
from my cup.

Ping.

"he said i mite like to meet u."

And oh God, I did.

I wanted that very, very much.

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38. REFERREL: JASON

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Jason had heard via Austin that you like to give boys blow jobs and you
worried that word seemed to be getting around. At the same time, it was
extremely exciting to you.

"I know loads of boys who are dying to get their dicks sucked," Austin had
told you.

"Send them 'round," you had joked. Austin didn't think you were joking.

Saturday morning there was a knock at your door. You looked out of your
bedroom window down below and could see a young, preteen boy waiting at the
front door.

"Oh fuck," you immediately thought to yourself, "what have you done,
Austin?"

As you inspected the boy - his dirty blond hair almost as dirty as the blue
sweater and dark blue jeans he was wearing, around 12 years old, earring in
his left ear - an electricity surged within you until you were almost
levitating.

"Just look at him," you said out loud to yourself, "dirty little fucker
wants his little COCK sucked!"

You raced to the door so fast you nearly ran into it. Pausing for a moment,
you took a deep breath and ran your fingers through your hair before
opening the door.

"Hi," said the boy looking up at you with the cutest, unbroken voice.

"Hey dude. W'sup?"

The boy spoke in one long breath.

"Er...erm...like...Austin...my friend from school...he said...like...I
could so something and get some money...like wash your car or something."

You passed a reassuring smile to him and he seemed to relax.

"What's your name?"

"Jason."

"How old are you, Jason?"

"Twelve."

"Fuckinghell. When was the last time you took a shower or had your clothes
washed," you thought about saying to him - but didn't.

"Cool. What do you think you'd like to do for money?"

Jason looked to his left, then to his right and started to move like a
penguin on his feet.

"Why don't you come in?" you said opening the door wide for I'm and
stepping back.

Jason stepped inside. As he passed you, you took a look at his little ass
in his scruffy denim jeans. A waft of boy stink followed him into the
house. He smelled stale.

"I'd so sniff that ass right now," you thought to yourself before Jason had
even crossed the threshold. You were feeling particularly horny that day
and you knew exactly what Jason was here for. This was no speculative
visit. This boy wanted his cock sucked and there was no reason to beat
about the bush, so to speak.

"Sit down, Jason," you told him pointing to the sofa.  Jason sat down, put
his hands between his thighs and looked around the room nervously.  You
took the chair opposite him.

"So, did Austin tell you what I could do for you?"

"Well...sorta," Jason mumbled.

"Look at me, Jason," you said to him. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure, yeah."

You paused for a moment, looking him up and down. He felt your eyes all
over him but it didn't make him feel uncomfortable. To the contrary, it was
a moment of sweetness where a chemical bond was forged.  Jason knew why he
was here. You knew why Jason was here. Jason knew that you knew why he was
here. You both knew that you'd sucked Austin's cock.

"Would you like me to suck your dick for you?" you asked him outright.

Jason's shoulders folded in as he curled his back over and pushed his hands
deeper between his thighs. He giggled.

"If you don't want me to, it's okay. My car is filthy. I can give you ten
bucks to wash it if you prefer."

"No," he said avoiding all eye contact with you, "I wanna."

"Wanna what?"

"What you just said."

"Jason, look, I don't have time for little games here, bud. Saturday's are
busy for me. You gotta tell me what you came here for."

Nada.

"Jason?"

A pondering and contemplation washed over Jason's smooth, dirty face.

"I want you to do it," he said.

"Do what?"

"Y'know...what you said."

You sighed.

"What did I say, Jason?"

"That you'd suck my dick."

You smiled and nodded.

"Okay, we're getting somewhere now. Good boy. You came here to have your
cock sucked, didn't you?"

Jason contemplates and then gently nods his head as he rubs his hands
between his thighs pressing his legs together.

"Do you have a boner right now?"

"Mmuhum," he mumbled.

"Oh, I bet you get a bigggg, rock hard cock don't you, Jason?"

Jason looked away and giggled, fidgeting in his seat.

You wanted to suck this boy so badly you could've done it right there and
then, but you were horny...dirty...pervy. This was too clean a place to
just suck off a 12 year old boy you just met and bid him farewell five
minutes later.

"Come for a ride with me," you told him. Jason looked up, a little confused
and unsure. "I gotta run a few errands, but on the way, there's a disused
airfield behind some tall trees. We can park up there and I'll give you a
blow job."

Jason smiled. He didn't try to. It wasn't to appease you in any way, it was
simply a product of his excitement. You grabbed your car keys and your
camera and headed out the door.

You pulled up behind the trees and killed the engine. Everything went
quiet. It was as though you had turned the volume down on the whole
world. It was just you and Jason now. This little, cute, scruffy 12 year
old boy sitting on his hands in the passenger seat of your car. And he
stinks.

You got out of the car, walked around to his side and opened the
door. Jason looked up at you - young adorable brown eyes - and stepped out.

"I'm a bit...like...nervous," he told you. An anxious giggle wrapped on the
end of his words like a bow on a gift box.

"You're trying to tell me you're not hard anymore, aren't you?"

Jason fidgeted on the spot, looking around.

"It's okay, you're safe here...nobody comes here only me and a few of your
friends," you reassured him. You took a ten dollar bill out of your back
pocket and held it up in front of him.

"It's time to show me that cute little cock of yours, Jason."

Jason looked around again. His knees bent slightly and then straightened
back up again.

"Just undo your fly and show it to me," you encouraged him, "prove to me
that you want me to see it and suck it for you."

Jason's looked around one more time and then his chin hit his chest as he
looked down on himself, his dirty little thumbs and fingers fumbling with
his zip. He opened it and pushed his underpants underneath himself so fast,
you barely saw his slight of hand.  Jason pressed his fingers into his
jeans to hold his underpants out of the way and used his little thumbs to
steady the cutest, little pink boy peen you'd ever seen.

Right in front of you as you watched in awe, he peeled his thin, sheath of
a foreskin back using one thumb following the other until it stayed back
behind his slick, little thimble head. Gawd, he was small for a 12 year old
boy and it excited you beyond belief. "If I get to suck it, it will be the
smallest 12 year old boy cock I've ever sucked," you thought to yourself.

"Oh, Jason," you exhaled as you looked at your 12 year old, all of four
feet seven, little boy with his tiny dicklet out for you.

"Take off your sweater and your jeans" you said to him, leaning back
against the car with your camera in your hand. You watched in awe as Jason
sprung into high gear peeling himself out of his clothes as fast as he
could as though your words had woken up all his internal horny
whack-a-moles. He was so horny - so desperate to have his little cock
sucked - that he had gone from, "could this be a possibility?" to "fucking
hell, I'm gonna get a blow job right now."

As he undressed himself, Jason's little pink peen transitioned from a
squishy little babycock to a full throttle preteen fuckstick faster than a
knife fight in a phone booth.

Fuck...this kid looked incredible hard. It was unbelievable how much his
little prepeen grew...and then as quickly as it hardened, it drooped back
to a little softie and sunk into his well-worn, blue and white, "Active
Sports" briefs which didn't quite fit him properly but to your advantage -
they sort of hung low underneath him with a gape and you could see inside
them and it was such a tease.

His little cock was now concealed behind the front of them but you could
clearly see his pink, hairless boy balls in the gape and it was driving you
wild.

"You look so hot in your underpants, Jason," you said to him which seemed
to make him feel good about himself. "Would you stand next to the car and
let me take a photo of you in them?"

Jason shuffled along the grass and stood next to the car and seemed to be
enjoying the attention. He reached the passenger door then turned back
around to face you, putting his hands into the curl of his lower back and
pushing his pelvis out.

"Oh gawsh, yes, Jason," you moaned, "I gotta take a picture of you like
that."  Grabbing your camera, you got down on your knees right next to him.

"Oh....good boy," you muttered under your breath as you held your camera
right in front of him and helped yourself to a forever-hot-memory.

"Oh, gawsh, Jason, you're so hot," you exclaimed.

Jason's giggle left an endearing smile on his dirty little face.

"Do you jerk off?"

"What?"

"Y'know, do you jerk off when you're in bed?"

"Yeah," Jason muttered quietly as though he might be overheard by some
imaginary appropriate adult.

"Oh, yeah, Jason, good boy, show me how you do it," you said to him as you
tugged down on his cute, dirty little underpants. You watched, as he
proudly showed you how grown up he is as he jerked his little cock back and
forth without any inhibitions.

"Oh, come on you horny little fucker," you said to him opening the car
door, your excitement beaming across your face. "Sit across the seat and
lean back."

Jason awkwardly rustled back into the car, leaning his back on the spur of
the passenger seat. His underpants had folded themselves back up and his
rock hard preteen bone was pressing against the inside of them causing them
to open at the top.

"Ohh yeah, Jason," you said, "look how hard you are, boy!"  Jason laughed,
fidgeted in the passenger seat and came to rest in a somewhat comfortable
position.

"Oh, show me that big boner of yours," you said to him holding up your
camera.  Jason dug his thumb of his left hand into his underpants and
pulled them down under his cute, tight, hairless, crinkled little nutsack
and his hard-as-steel boyrod sprung up to full attention. You still
couldn't believe how such a little pink peen could get so big.

"You're cock's so fucking big!" you said to him down the lens of your
camera, resulting in a proud smile across Jason's cute little preteen face.

Seconds later, you could feel the slick sheen of Jason's turtle head in the
back of your throat as you went down on him in the car giving him his first
ever blow job - a ten dollar bill gripped between the fingers of your right
hand.

Before you had the chance to savor the rank smell of boy coming from him,
it was not but a few seconds later that you felt Jason's rock hard boybone
pressing into the roof of your mouth as you heard him draw breath fiercely
through his teeth. You moaned a reassuring, "it's okay, cum for me" noise
onto his cock and felt Jason's hands come down onto your head. He wasn't so
much trying to hold you down as push you away, the internal preteen
conflict of "I-want-it-but-I-don't" so present in the moment.

Jason's breathing slowed, his hands relaxed on your head and with one long
exhale from his nostrils, this dirty little 12 year old boy was putty in
your hands and dry cumming in your mouth. It had taken about twenty
seconds.

"Did you like that?" you asked him as you let his tart-tasting, pissy
little bone slip out of your mouth. Jason smiled and nodded. His little
peenie jerked all by itself, a happy post-cum muscle contraction

He pulled up his underpants with his right hand and with his left, he
snatched the ten dollar bill out of your hand.

"Can we do this again?" he asked.

"Any time you want, sexy," you told him.

Jason's a good boy everybody.

Everybody meet Jason.

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39. ANYTHING: TREY

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I knew Trey, my nine year old nephew, had recently started jacking off.

When he stayed over, I would stand behind the door of the guest room where
he slept.

He didn't do much sleeping some nights.

Gawd, did he love to jack off a lot.

All those noises I could enjoy through the door.

The shaking of the bed.

His little whimpers.

Damn, Trey liked to abuse my guest room bed.

Sometimes I could hear him just fucking the mattress.

I would be standing behind the closed door, stroking myself in my jeans.

I hatched a plan.

Last Saturday he stayed over.

He looked cute as hell in his little red teeshirt and blue jeans with an
elasticated waist.

He was small for his age and my sister took advantage of it with his
clothes.

And I wasn't going to complain.


"The guest room is out of use this weekend, bud," I told him, "you're gonna
have to sleep on the sofa."

I couldn't believe it. It was less than 2 minutes after I turned the lights
off that I head Trey starting to play with himself.

On my sofa!

Cheeky little dick!

That smelly sticky little boycock all over the fabric!

No respect!

He deserved for me to see him!

I crept slowly back into the room.

From the minimal light that cut through the window blinds, I could see he
was lay on his side on the sofa facing the back of it.

As my eyes got used to the light, I could see that Trey had his jeans
pulled down around his legs and his teeshirt pulled up and I could see his
left arm moving.

Damn, this kid never stopped wanking that little thing.

All over my fucking sofa. WTF?

He was cheeky...and right now in more ways than one.

I crept towards him, slooowwwwwwly, until I was right up to him. I got down
on my knees.

He was so preoccupied with his horny little dick, I'm not sure he'd have
heard me approaching him even if I was a one man band with a fucking drum
kit and a kazoo attached to me.

Ohhh, his bum looked so cute, though.

Small and round and milky white.

His cheeks clenched, then relaxed, then clenched...sorta flinching...as he
jerked his little preteen pecker.  Fucking jerking off on my sofa?

Cheeky little cunt.

I got out my phone, snapped a quick picture – SNAP! – then turned my
flashlight app on so Trey and I could see each other.

"Caught you!" I challenged him.

Trey was speechless.

"I caught you jerking off on my sofa...and I have evidence to prove
it. What are you gonna say?"

"I'm so sorry, Uncle Brad...I didn't mean---"

"Save it for your mom, Trey."

"No, no...please, Uncle Brad, don't tell my mom, please...I'll do
anything!"

"You'll do anything?"

"Yeah...please don't tell my mom."

"Would you...mow my lawn?"

"Yeah, sure, whatever..."

"Would you let me have your Call of Duty game?"

"Yeah, yeah...take it."

"Would you let me smell your bottom?"

"What?"

"I said, would you let me smell your bottom?"

Trey searched for words by looking around the room. Came up with nothing.

"You said you'd do anything, but if you won't to, I'll just let your mom
take care of it."

"No, no, please...tell me what you want me to do and I'll do it."

"I just told you."

"Call of Duty?"

"No, I want to smell your bottom, Trey."

"You serious, Uncle Brad? Why?"

"Trey, I just caught you with your jeans down jacking off on my
sofa. You're not in any position to start asking me questions right now,
understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Okay, so turn around...as you were...face the other way."

Trey started to rotate himself around again.

"But why do you wanna---"

"No questions, remember...now are you going to do as you're told for once
in your life?"

Beaten down...

"Yes."

"Yes, SIR!"

"Yes, sir."

"Now pull your jeans down like they were when you were jacking off, and
lift up your teeshirt again."

I stood up, turned the living room light on, then got back into position
kneeling at the sofa behind Trey and his little, tender, round bottom.

With the extra available light, I took another photo of Trey... you know,
for prosperity. I wanted to be able to look at his little bottom again
tomorrow after he'd gone home and remember sniffing it.

And then I sniffed him.

I got between Trey's bottom cheeks...

...and I sniffed his butt.

It was sticky and smelled sharp, like a well-aged Artisan cheddar cheese.

"Ohhh gawsh, Trey," I blurted, "Your bottom STINKS!"

I put my hand down my jeans and started stroking my boy hungry cock in
quick rhythm.

"Ohhhh, it's so smelly," I mumbled between Trey's nine year old butt cheeks
as I jacked off frantically inside my jeans."

"I'm smelling your bottom, Trey! I'm sniffing your stinky little
asshole...and it fucking stinks, dude!...

...Ohhhh, your ass is so...fucking...smelly, Trey."

"Oh-emm-gee," he mumbled into the back of the sofa. "Oh-emm-gee!"

"Ohhhmmmmmm, I can't believe how smelly your bottom is, Trey," I said as I
continued to jack myself.

"Oh-emm-gee! Oh-emm-gee!"

Sniff sniff. Jack jack.

"Moooohhhhhhyeaaaa," I cried out as I filled up my boxers inside my jeans.

Such a smelly little bottom.

I'm so glad I put the guest room out of order.

Trey's a good boy everybody.

Even now, I put a finger down my own pants, slide it through my crease and
take a deep, happy sniff, pretending it's him.

Everybody meet Trey.

I wonder who we're going to meet next.

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40. FISHING: JURA

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I like cute boys. I like quirky boys. I like regular boys.

I like unattainable boys. I like boys with pretty faces and boys without. I
even like boys who have an element of non-model, "real boy" plainness about
them.

I only have a "generally don't like category" of boys who reach around 13,
but look like little 34-year-olds.

I don't like boys with a lot of pubic hair. I stop liking boys when they
turn from "almost teens" and "new teens" into "older teens" and "hairier
teens."

I also don't like boys who are massively overweight. I will add that's not
a judgment, it's just a question of what I find attractive and what I
don't.

I also love the smell of a boy's bottom. Stating the obvious at this point,
I know.

Mostly, I love a boy's bottom to be sweaty, tangy, and sweet. Maybe a
little like vinegar. I like it to be ripe and raunchy. Not everybody's
thing, I understand, but again, hey, that's just me. I'm not overstruck
about downright dirty butts, but it can depend how horny I am, and it can
depend on the boy, and I'd be more likely to turn my head away from a boy's
really dirty underpants than I would from pulling my face out of his live,
in-person, really dirty ass cheeks.

That's me.

But then there's the Elite category of boys. Isn't there? Those boys who
defy categorization. Those boys who are simply godlike in their own skin.
When I look at their picture, I don't even need to see their bottoms, or
imagine what they smell like, or even see their feet or their arms or their
fingers or their pretty little cocklet bulges or anything.

They seem to float around with a glow around them. No matter what they
wear, what they say, how they say it, they are simply adorable in every
waking moment (and sleeping moment for that matter). They simply exude
beauty. Something very spiritual-like in their presence. I often want to
just fall to my knees and worship them.

It's these special boys that, even though I'd still rather get off sniffing
their butts and sucking their cocks, they are just so Elite that it
wouldn't matter what flavor they were downstairs, or what they let me
do. Clean or dirty. Hard or soft, Aware of me or not. I just want to be
near them.

Meet 12-year-old Jura. I'm happy just to be in his presence, however he
comes.

# # # 

Jura is so excited. I could tell when he slipped out of his front door and
barely had the time to give his mom a kiss goodbye (she had to call him
back)...and then he came skipping down the path in his jeans looking so
cute and so...boy!

Man, he was so small for a 12-year-old. Could get away with being 10. In
fact he was the best of both. He was small (and undeveloped) enough to get
away with being 10 but he smelled like a 12 year old. Man, did Jura get
sweaty.

I watched as he trotted down the path towards my car, the excitement about
going on a fishing trip with me so evident on his smooth little face. His
pool blue eyes lighting up when he saw me waiting - his skinny arms and
straight little body in his cute blue sweater with his red tee just visible
under the neck.

As I embarked on the 4 hour drive to Lake Alexander, the fact that I had
the cutest 12 year old on the planet in my back seat was keeping me high
and full of sexual rushes, one after the other.

But I was conflicted.

He's a neighbor's kid and he's 12. I can't really do anything with him. At
the same time, I have him alone for the next 48 hours and there's no way I
am going to miss the opportunity to smell just how sweaty that little
preteen bottom of his can actually get. No way.

# # #

After a morning of absolute ruggedness – hiking, fishing, and sweating
like crazy – I led Jura back to the cabin for lunch, knowing he'd be
sweet-smelling in all the right places. I didn't even have to wait long,
because after he tore through three hot dogs, two dozen tater tots and
enough kool-aid to leave him with a grape moustache and a cabin resounding
with giggly boy-burps, he grabbed the light blanket off the back of the
rocker, kicked off his shoes and stretched out on the couch for a nap.

"Hey, Jura," I said casually. Why don't you take off your shirt and your
shorts too. They're kinda muddy from fishing all day. That way you won't
get the couch all dirty."

"Sure," he said, smiling and nodding. No big deal to him. He shucked his
shorts giving me a flash glimpse of his tighty whities underneath, pulled
his shirt up and over his creamy little chest and dime-sized nipples and
then cozied-down on the couch where he was down for the count in about 60
seconds.

I took my time doing the dishes and tidying up the kitchen, making sure he
was asleep. In five minutes, I could hear him snoring deeply. I waited
another 10, just to make sure.

I kneeled down on the floor next to the couch, lifted the light blanket
back from his bum area only, and was amazed in an instant by the sight and
the smell. Perfect grungy boy undies. Damp with sweat and clearly sporting
a tan grease stain you could see from the back. I could smell his bottom
the minute I peeled the blanket back. Oh, God, it was ripe. So sweetly,
delightfully, cock-hardeningly noxious, it was all I could do to stop from
moaning out loud like an opera tenor cutting a new album for Sony Classics.

I stuck my nose right down next to Jura's fine, slimy, tapioca swamp hole,
and believe me, the heat was just radiating from it. It warmed my cheeks,
I'm telling you. It warmed my cheeks. And I sniffed Jura with all my might,
and mother of God, it was the sweetest, richest, most fusty, fiesty,
sticky, stinky, marvelous malodorous crack-scent this side of heaven.

And Jura didn't even stir while I leaned in there an nose-sucked in with
all my might, taking one hit, two hits, three hits, four. Five potato, six
potato, seven potato more. Fragrant, pure, sweet, boyhole perfume. The kind
that wins awards. It was just raw, primitive, ferocious-good boy stink,
straight from the tap. I attempted a swipe with my finger but he stirred,
so I retracted and froze.

Soon he was snoring again, so I leaned in and took five more deep, long
hits. In my mind, I could almost imagine the intake gurgle of a water bong,
so good was his ass scent. Jura took the term "that's good shit" to a whole
new level. Sniff, hit, gurgle, hold. Don't exhale man, don't let it
go. Hold it. Hold it. I ejaculated inside my shorts, hands-free.

I drifted off to dreamland myself, just kneeling there at his
temple. Uninhibited, luxuriant Grade-A Jurastink. As fine as I knew it
would be.

That beautiful natural stink of a Jura's unwashed wrinkle, hot and rich and
ripe. I needed it like I needed oxygen and food. The overpowering dirty
smell. The musky sweet and sour notes underneath. The all-boy earthiness.

Jura's a good boy, everybody.

We'll wake him up and do some more fishing in a little while.

But for right now, let's just let him sleep.

Everybody meet Jura.

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41. BATHROBE: JOEL

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I love it when my sister-in-law is buried with work.

She's a lawyer and her work is unpredictable.

I've never minded looking after Joel for her.

Never.

I've looked after him since he was a baby.

He's 10 now.

Joel and I love hanging out together.

We always have.

I'd grab a pizza, a 2 liter bottle of Sprite and put on a movie that is
just above his age.

Enough to scare him a little.

Just enough for him to want to sleep in my bed with me.

And we'll spoon...and I'll stay awake the entire night just holding him and
feeling his little bottom cupped by my groin.

Wishing in my deepest fantasies that I could just slide myself inside him.

I've never told my sister-in-law Joel sleeps in my bed.

And neither has Joel.

I think he'd be embarrassed to tell her he was scared by "The Boy Who Cried
Werewolf."

Joel likes to wear my big, blue and red, velour boxing robe.

It's massive.

I told him I've had it since I won the South Western Boxing Tournament.

I've never boxed in my life.

Joel is so impressionable, I could tell him anything.

He looks so adorable in my robe. It buries him as much as his mom's work
buries her.

It will drag along the floor and he'll grab it and tug it up.

He loves to just chill on the bed in the robe and watch TV.

And I watch him.

Sometimes, he doesn't even know that he's, well, hanging out a little more
literally.

Like today.

Normally, I have to be very careful when I pull back my robe to get to
Joel's bottom when he's asleep.

Not today.

You know when you think a boy is trying to tell you something?

Because it seems to fit the circusmtances to well to be a coincidence?

It's like Joel is saying to me, "I know you smell my bottom when I'm
asleep, so here...here it is."

But then we know we put those thoughts in our own heads.

Don't we?

Either way, Joel is watching TV.

And I'm watching his bottom.

And I'm not taking my eyes off it...

Except to look at his cute face and wait for his eyes to roll...

And his head to drop..

And his mouth to open.

Then he's not watching TV anymore.

But I'm still watching him.

I'm making sure he's asleep.

And then...

I'm going to sniff his little stinky 4th grader, elementary schoolboy
bottom until I cum in my jeans.

I love that my sister-in-law made it through law school.

I'm so proud of her.

And Joel's a good boy, everybody.

Everybody meet Joel.

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42. LONELY: LEO

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Why do kids have to be so cruel to each other?

Is it the brutal honesty of the little ones that make them seem so cruel?

Or it is that the need to be accepted is so strong that it causes them to
spot and exploit the weaknesses they see in other kids their age.

Regardless of the reason, today little Leo was the target of their
incessant teasing and cruel jokes.

Leo was the sweet, adorable 10 year old, the son of my next door
neighbors. He was a typical boy with sandy colored hair and teeth that were
just imperfect enough to make you want to eat him up. And he had the most
incredibly pouty, red lips.....lips that made you weak in the knees as you
imagined kissing them softly or imagined them stretched around the head of
your slimy cock head.

But Leo always had trouble relating to the other boys his age and often
found himself on the outside of the fun, alone and sad. It didn't help that
mom and dad were divorcing, upending his world and making him feel even
more insecure and unloved.

On this particular day, a happy occasion....a birthday party filled with
fun and balloons and cake....Leo was sitting alone on the couch, quietly
sniffling, his eyes red from crying. He had been playing in the bouncy
house outside and had cracked his head against one of the other kids. He
has started crying and the other boys immediately pounced and began to
taunt him and call him a sissy for crying.

And so that is where I found this angel of a boy.....slumped on the couch,
trying not to cry, but not being very successful. I sat down next to Leo
and asked what was wrong? He looked up at me with big tear rolling down his
cheeks.

"Th....the....uuuuuother bo...boys were being mmmean to me" he manage to
choke out between sobs. My heart was melting for the little scamp and so I
just put my arm around his shoulder and gently pulled him to my side.

"Leo" I said, "don't worry about what those other boys are saying. You know
that you are my special little guy and Uncle Dan loves you to the moon and
back".

Leo just buried his head into my chest and sobbed. And so I just held him
and reveled in the moment. I was holding a precious, beautiful little boy
in my arms, letting him know that I loved him. I could not help but touch
the top of his head with my cheek and bury my nose into his sweaty mop of
hair. I could have stayed like that forever, just Leo and me.

But soon, his sobs began to subside and I put my finger under his chin and
lifted his face up so that he was looking up at me.

"Are you better now buddy? I asked

"Yeah, I guess" Leo replied

"Do you want to go and watch a movie in your room and get away from those
mean boys? I asked him, partly because I truly wanted to get him away, at
least for a little while, from the cruelty of the other boy, but also to
just have some alone time with him.

At the mention of a movie, his eyes brightened just a bit and I got a half
grin out of him.  "Yeah...let go and watch Despicable Me again!" he said
with more enthusiasm than I had seen from him in the past hour.

He jumped off the couch and headed upstairs, his sweet little backside
perfectly filling his cotton sweat pants. I could only imagine how hot and
stinky that little crack would be after jumping up and down in the bouncy
house for nearly an hour.  I followed close behind in a effort to catch
just a whiff of his greasy little hole.

Once in his room, I flopped down on his bed and watch as he loaded the
movie in the DVD player and crawled up on the bed beside me. He loved to
cuddle, especially when he was watching a movie and I was more than happy
to give him that contact and attention he craved.

I propped myself back against the headboard and pulled Lucan onto my lap
and let him lean back against my chest, his head resting just below my
chin.

He seemed happier now that we were away from the others and relaxed into me
as the movie played. But it was not long before he was pinching his little
peener through those gray sweats. Leo was what I call a "dick pincher" It
was like his hand was permanently attached to his little boy parts. Maybe
he was constantly fiddling with his baby junk out of nervous habit...I
wasn't completely sure. I wondered sometimes if he thought the wiener thief
was going to steal his dick if he ever let go of it!

Anyway, he was soon pinching away at his little pisser and I was not going
to let the opportunity pass.

"Does it feel good to do that Leo?"  I asked him in a quiet voice.

His hand froze for an instant before he pulled it away as if he had touched
a lit match and I could see the pink flush of embarrassment creeping up the
side of his slender neck.

"Does it feel good Leo?"  I asked him again, not in any accusatory or harsh
way, but just soft enough to let him know it was okay to be truthful.

"I didn't mean to......I mean...I was just itchy down there Uncle Dan" he
said afraid to look me in the eye.

"It's really okay Leo...all boys get itchy down there, even Uncle Dan."

He thought about that for a moment and giggled at the thought of me
pinching myself. At this point I was surprised he couldn't feel my cock
pressing against his backside because I had gone rigid the moment I saw his
hand move toward his little dick.

"So......it's like okay if I do it while we watch the movie" he asked...as
if he were asking for a glass of water.

"Yeah buddy, it's really okay" I told him.

And so he did.....he went back to playing with his little peener, just
randomly pinching it while he concentrated on the movie.  After a while I
moved my hand down over his and began to guide his hand back and forth
across the front of his sweats, letting him feel the difference as his hand
moved from pinching the little head of his peener to rubbing his crotch. I
did not take very long before I could feel him press himself back against
my chest and ever so lightly push his crotch forward into our combined
hands.

"Does that feel better Leo?"  I asked him

"Mmmm......uh yeah it does....kinda tickles my pee-pee Uncle Dan" he said
in a breathless tone that was tinged with fascination at the feelings
beginning to radiate from his immature little cock.

"Let me make it feel even better Leo" I said as I eased my hand down into
his gray sweats and underneath his damp undies. His skin was so moist,
smooth and tacky and I slid across his bald pubis to the root of his
immature sex.

He jerked just a bit when my fingers made contact with his half hard
cocklet, not even as big as my thumb. But he did not pull away....only
pushed that little hardening stick of flesh up into my grasping fingers.

Slowly and gently I began to masturbate sweet Leo, feeling his little spike
get rock hard and hearing his breathing rate increase as the sexual tension
in his immature little nuts began to buzz, making him thrust up against my
hand, trying to increase the contact and the good feelings he was getting.

I buried my face in his hair and just smelled sweat and little boy as I
continue to stroke his peener between my thumb and forefinger. All too
quickly he began to softly grunt and make a sweet little mewling sound in
his throat as he neared his first boygasm, his nuts disappearing as they
prepared to fire off the sweet boy juice that was not yet there.

Leo was grinding his bottom into my lap and causing my cock to press even
harder up into this cloth covered crack. We were both headed for a rapid
explosion.

He pushed up hard against my hand and cried out in a half grunt, half
squeal as his orgasm swept him up, I could feel his little dick throbbing
between my fingers as his nuts tried to pump out the cum that was years
away.  That was all it took for my cock to erupt into my jeans, flooding my
underwear with cum.

Leo was drained from all of the emotional stress from earlier in the day
and the intensity of his little boy tickles and quickly collapsed on the
bed beside me.  He was such a vision of beauty with that little bottom
wrapped tightly in those warm sweats that I pressed my face into his
backside and sniffed that sweet, sweaty musky scent that was leaking right
through all that cotton.

Looking up toward the back of his head I asked "Leo........you want to have
some more fun?"

He gave a soft giggle and nodded his head.

I pulled off his sweats, peeled down his damp undies and shuddered as his
bare bottom came into beautiful view. He blushed. He giggled. My cock got
hard as I leaned my face down, eager to taste him.

Leo's a good boy, everybody.

Everbody eat Leo.

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43. SQUIRT: LUKE

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"Flex your muscles, Squirt," Harrison said to his six year old brother,
Luke, as they both stood shirtless at the bathroom mirror.

Harrison loved it when his parents were out and now he was fourteen, they
felt comfortable leaving him for longer periods of time.

"Make sure your brother eats, okay?" Harrison's mom said as she grabbed a
banana from the fruit bowl and headed out the door fifteen minutes later
than planned. She was always running late. Late out and late back.

Harrison was a stud. He played soccer, volleyball and basketball and spent
most of the long hot Texas summer with his shirt off. He knew what it did
for the girls and they swarmed around him like bees. He loved the attention
and eighth grade was a defining year in his sexual development. He had
never really had an interest in girls and now suddenly, they were
everywhere, inviting him to this party and that party. His phone would blow
up with texts informing him, among other offers, "my frnd sed she wud give
u a bjob."

Despite his lack of interest in girls, he certainly didn't have a lack of
interest in his cock. He had first jerked off when he was twelve, a little
later than many boys, but he had been a late developer. However, once he
had experienced his first boygasm, dry and hard between the legs of Luke's
teddy bear, Barrett, he was hooked. Harrison would jerk off several times a
day and by the time he was fourteen, he couldn't remember a day in the last
two years that he hadn't jerked off at least once.

Emily, a cute sixth grader at Baylor Elementary where Harrison went to
school, was the lucky girl who got the inaugural sucking of Harrison's (at
the time) thirteen year old four-inch bone.

Ironically, Emily was a shy girl and had only just turned twelve.  However,
she had previously had a crush on another older boy, Greyson, also fourteen
and he'd had taken advantage of it and ultimately of her.

Emily wanted to hang out with Greyson all the time. She dreamed of spending
Saturdays with him at the bowling alley or at the park. Greyson also
thought about spending Saturdays with Emily - while she sucked his cock for
him - and it didn't take many Saturdays before he had her on his knees in
his bedroom after school, teen-cock-cumming in her little mouth. She
thought he was loving her. He just wanted to get his cock in her mouth and
cum down her throat.

Emily quickly learned that the way to a guy's heart was through his cock
but despite being blown by Emily several times a week, Greyson soon got
bored of her when she told him she wasn't ready for penetrative
sex. Greyson could get any doozy-eyed sixth grader to give him a blow
job. He wanted to ride a little pussy hard and with closed legs, sweet
little Emily became a fling of the past very quickly.

Emily knew how to get to Harrison - and she did. She didn't play games with
anonymous texting via friends. She knew that was the long way around to get
to a boy's cock. She texted Harrison directly.

"Hey, its emily from science class. I relly like u and I wud do sumthin for
u i kno ud like ;-)"

"Hey, wht wud u do?"

"Wht wud u like me to do?"

"I dunno, lol."

A minute or two went by during which Harrison felt tingles rising
throughout his body.

Then:

"I wud suck it for u ;-)"

"Damn gurl u serius?"

"yeah ;-)"

Emily waited. She wasn't sure if she'd been too forward. Maybe other boys
weren't like Greyson, but she hoped that Harrison was because, well, since
she wasn't blowing Greyson anymore, she found herself craving older boy
cock and cum. As she waited for Harrison's next text, she pictured herself
on her knees in front of him, wondering how big his cock was and what it
would taste like when she sucked it.

"k whn?" read Harrison's next text.

"after sch today?'

"where?'

"anywhere ;-)"

"k my house thn ;-)"

"okay! ;-))) xoxox."

"u relly gonna suck me?"

"yeah ;-)"

And she did.

Fuck, it felt good to Harrison. He tried to process why any girl would want
to take a cock in her mouth. At the same time, he fucking loved it. Being
hands free alone gave him a sense of liberty and freedom. He cum in less
than a minute and was shocked how Emily gulped it back without blinking
once.

The trouble was, as much as Harrison enjoyed his first ever blow job, he
didn't really like Emily. He didn't like girls at all. In the last two
years, he couldn't recall ever once thinking about a girl when he had
jerked off.

Harrison liked boys. Little boys. Nothing got Harrison's teen-boy-balls
tingling more than a cute little first grader. He had hated moving up to
Baylor because all the boys would now be at least twelve years old. When he
was in fifth grade, he had a veritable supply of first graders walking past
him all day every day and primarily, that's why there hadn't been a day in
the last two years that he hadn't jerked off.

When his neighbor's son, Blake, turned six and was starting first grade,
his mom let him walk to school every morning with Harrison. She had to
leave early for work and Harrison had proved to be reliable in looking
after Blake. The reality was, Harrison couldn't wait to see Blake every
morning and of the four or five times he jerked off every day, one or two
were typically over thoughts about Blake and specifically, about his little
stinky six year old boy bottom.

Harrison had a thing for little boys' bottoms. Sexually speaking, they were
the cutest thing in the world to him and he was obsessed with Blake's. He
would purposely walk behind him on the way to school, Blake looking all
cute and innocent as he struggled to carry his little back pack. Harrison
thought about offering to carry it for him but that would mean he would
miss the twists and wriggles Blake did to adjust his back pack and how
beautiful his bottom looked when he did them.

That was two years ago. Harrison was going up to Everton High and the lower
age of boys at school would now default to fourteen. Harrison was seeing
elementary-aged boys less and less. He still had a thing for Blake, who was
now eight, but he missed perving over little first graders every day.

Until now.

Harrison's brother, Luke, endearingly referred to by Harrison simply as
"squirt" had just turned six. Harrison had only ever seen him as his cute
lil' bro but the day he started first grade and struggled to pull his back
pack onto his shoulders, Harrison saw lil' squirt in a whole new light.

"Can you help me put my back pack on?" Luke asked his older brother,
turning around and struggling with the shoulder straps.

Harrison looked at Luke's little bottom in his thick, thigh-length plaid
shorts and for the first time, his balls tingled as he looked at
it. Harrison knew his little brother was all clean. It was his first day at
school and mom had made him take a shower, which he hated.

"...but what will that cute little ass smell like after a long day at
school?" Harrison thought to himself excitedly.

"Come here, squirt," Harrison said curling his fingers under Luke's
shoulder straps, "let me help ya out."

That was the day Harrison became obsessed with his little brother and
particularly with his little bottom.

# # #

"Flex your muscles, squirt," Harrison said to his six year old brother,
Luke, as they both stood shirtless at the bathroom mirror.

Harrison loved it when his parents were out and now he was fourteen, they
felt comfortable leaving him for longer periods of time.

"I don't HAVE any muscles," Luke scorned as he tried to flex his
non-existent biceps.

"You look mighty-fine to me, squirt," Luke said, holding up his phone in
his left hand and taking a photo of them both in the mirror.  Mom and dad
were out the entire day. They had left themselves four hours to do a five
hour journey and mom didn't even get the chance to grab a banana before
they headed out the door.

"Today's the day, squirt," Harrison said to his brother, smiling at him
through the mirror.

"For what?" Luke sulked, still troubled by the lack of definition in his
skinny little arms.

"You'll find out soon enough, squirt."

Harrison smiled. He had decided that today was the day he was going to find
out what squirt's little six year old elementary-schoolboy bottom smelled
like and, knowing that mom had not had the time to make Luke take a shower
this morning, he knew it was going to be stinky.

And Harrison couldn't wait to smell it.

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44. FUCKED: LEO (CONTINUED)

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As he lay there, his breathing beginning to return to normal after his
intense dry cum, I pressed my face more fully into the sweat pants that
were covering his rounded bottom and began to take deep huffs of Leo. He
was like a furnace inside that fabric....I could feel the heat pouring out
right at the split between his cheeks and I just let that heat warm my face
I could smell the residue of a long day of hard play, sweating and careless
swipes of his wrinkle after pooping. It was bubbling up out of him in waves
of sweet pungency.

Oh sweet fuck did he stink just like a ten year old boy should stink.  This
was no polite, delicate odor, but rather was a freight train of pussy stink
that was only slightly contained by the sweat pants holding his sticky
cheeks closed. I could smell his pussy musk mixed together with a sour,
vinegary, cheesy scent, like feta cheese and cheddar melted together. I
could smell the darker odor of the greasy tan smears that were likely
glazing the folds in his stink wrinkle.

I kept pressing my nose deeper into the fabric, trying to get at every
molecule of stink on this beautiful boy's ass, breathing so deeply that I
became dizzy with the cloud of fumes I was inhaling. I could hear soft
grunting and groaning and realized with surprise that I was the one making
those lustful sounds. I was so lost in sniffing his ripe bottom that I
didn't even realize I was making a sound.  Somewhat shaken from my reverie
of ass huffing, I noticed that Leo was quiet, save for his very even
breathing. The sweet boy had fallen asleep, drained from his cum ordeal a
few minutes earlier and the emotional stress of the day.

Taking this opportunity, I eased myself from the bed and quickly hurried to
the bathroom to take a quick piss and was back in his bedroom no more than
5 minutes later and Leo had not stirred. I eased myself back onto the bed,
scooted over close to Leo and gently pulled him into my arms and just lay
there, my face buried in his sour, sweaty hair and let him sleep.

Sometime later.....it seemed like only minutes, I woke with a start,
realizing that I had also fallen asleep with this sexy little boy cradled
in my arms. I leaned in toward him and could feel his hot, sweet breath on
my face and see those puffy, pouty red lips parted ever so slightly as he
snored softly.  Gently I kissed those lips and his flushed cheeks until he
began to stir and open his eyes.

"Did you get a good nap Leo?" I asked him

"Mmmm...uh huh. I did" he answered back, still only partially awake.

I leaned in to kiss him again, pressing my lips firmly against his and
letting my tongue trace the outline of his mouth.

"Mmmhhhhppp.,...that tickles Uncle Dan" he blurted out between his giggles.
"Are boys supposed to kiss other boys?"  he asked in a mock serious tone,
but I could see the hint of a smirk on his face.

"Oh yes Leo, especially when they want to play naughty games!" I said and
leaned in and kissed him more aggressively, pushing insistently with my
tongue against him until he relaxed his mouth and my tongue slid up into
his wet oral cavity. God, he tasted so good......slightly sour from his nap
with a hint of leftover birthday cake. He was passive for just a moment and
then began to push back with his tongue, as the level of passion in our
kiss began to rise. I was sucking on his lower lip causing him to whimper
into my mouth which only served to inflame my lust further and drive me to
kiss him even more deeply.

"Stick out your tongue Leo" I panted, my need for this boy quickly rising
to the point where rational thought gets pushed aside by lust.

"Huh?....Why you want me to stick out my tongue? I thought we were doing
grown-up kisses?" he asked, just a bit confused. But I continued to insist
and Leo is always so willing to do what I asked of him, that he opened his
mouth and stuck out his tongue.

Fuck....what a ball achingly beautiful sight. To see this sweet, hot boy
open that mouth. those red lips stretched into an oval and that tongue
pushed out in all its glory. I wanted to just jam my cock into his sweet
maw right at that moment but I needed to tease us both and make this
encounter last because I didn't know when I would see this precious sweetie
again.

And so I resisted the temptation to drag his mouth down over my aching cock
and instead, leaned in and tickled the end of his tongue with my tongue
eliciting another round of soft giggles from Leo.  I pulled his entire
tongue into my mouth and began to suck on it as if it were his small
cocklet and heard his giggles become a grunt of surprise. He was soon
whimpering into my mouth again as I sucked and licked trying to memorize
the taste of his mouth.  Almost without realizing it we were deep French
kissing again with Leo pushing his tongue more aggressively into my mouth,
wanting to feel me sucking on it and making him feel both loved and tingly.

I pulled away and began to remove his teeshirt and sweats.  I was
constantly amazed at how sweet and trusting he could be with someone that
he loved and knew loved him.  He just lay there until he was only wearing
his tight little briefs with a beautiful tent right in the crotch. His
little peener was rock hard from all the heavy kissing and proof again that
he was as excited as I was. I peeled those undies down and his little dick
sprang back up and slapped against his sweaty, smooth skin.

He gave a half giggle, half gasp when his cock sprang free, understanding
how naughty we were being, but also feeling those good feeling in his
immature sex and knowing that he wanted them again.

He was breathtakingly beautiful as he lay there totally naked, vulnerable
and trusting....but with a stone hard little penis that was my green light
to take him to boygasm nirvana.

"Why are you staring at me Uncle Dan?"  he asked, genuinely curious.

"Because you are to beautiful and I love you so much Leo" I said and
watched his cheeks flush with color at my words.

"Are you gunna.....are you gunna play with my peener more?" Leo asked,
almost begging, almost hoping the answer would be yes, but still a bit
unsure of what might come next.

I quickly shed my shirt and shorts as well so that I could feel this boy's
naked, damp skin against me own, feel every bit of his body pressing
against me. His eyes widened a bit when he saw my erect cock for the first
time and I heard a faint "wow" slip out as he tried to process the
difference between our bodies.

"Sweet boy I am going to play with your peener and your poop hole until you
beg me to stop!"

He flushed an even deeper pink on his cheeks and in a half whisper said
just one word "Okay"

Nothing like sweet permission from a hot, sexy little boy and so I began to
devour him with my mouth, starting with his smooth little pits with all
their salty, sweaty goodness. He was howling and giggling at how much it
tickled, but I wasn't about to stop until both pits had been licked clean
of every bit of salt and sweat and just the very edge of a bit of stink.

I moved on to his nipples, just gently rubbing them at first, letting him
start to understand how much pleasure he could get from a previously
ignored part of his body. He was quick to gasp in both surprise and
pleasure as those sweet little nubbins became erect under my fingers. I
began to suck on his left tit, laving it's little point with my tongue and
gently gnawing on him with my lip-covered teeth. He was soon squirming
under me, trying to process these new sensations pulsing out from his
nipple while simultaneously thrusting his little hardness up against
me. His body was already ahead of his understanding of what was happening
at this point. It felt so good to have him pressing that little spike up
against my stomach.

I finished off his right nipple and moved down his smooth tummy to his
hairless crotch, taking in the sight of his two and a half inch stalk and
that sweet little nut sack with it two little jelly beans. I lifted his
hardness up with my fingers and just pressed the sweet little head of his
cock against my nose. Oh fuck.....the smell of boy dick is beyond
intoxicating to me.

I could smell his crotch sweat from all the jumping in the bouncy
house.....I could smell dried boy piss from those leftover dribbles that
always end up in his undies....I could smell a soft cheesy, yeasty smell
that reminded me of rising bread dough and Velveeta cheese. It was all I
could do not to jam that little cock head up into my nostril as I tried to
inhale every bit of his peener perfume....baby boy dick stink....whatever
you want to call it.

I was quickly sinking into a fog of lust and hotness, but I could hear Leo
up above me making noises......somewhere between a whimper and a moaning
sound deep in this throat and I huffed the stink of his cock and gently
massaged his stalk with my thumb and forefinger.

"Uuuuunnnnnnggggg....Unc...Uncle Dan....my peener....my peener...it
tickles....mmmmgggg...it feels funny good" Oh sweet words to my ears to
know that I was giving such pleasure to this boy that I loved.

I couldn't stand it any more and so I sucked his little spike up into my
mouth and simultaneous licked his little nut sack. The flavors of active
boy crotch exploded on my tongue...the saltiness from his sweat....the
tangy dried piss with just a hint of maple......that flavor of good
sourdough break....all mingled together to fill my mouth with the hot
flavor of boy dick.

Leo was obviously in favor of the dick sucking as he gave a startled squeak
when my wet mouth closed over his little stalk of flesh and immediately
began to push up into my mouth, trying to increase the contact between his
dick and me.

"Uuuuunnnncle Ma....Uncle Dan...you put my peener in your mouth? "  He
moaned and gasped out the words, caught between the incredible feelings
spiraling out from his crotch and the surprise that I was willing to put
his private boy parts in my mouth.

My response was to just moan and grunt around his now wet cock and let him
feel the vibration of my moaning on his little cock.

With my face pressed down firmly on his crotch, I could smell the scent of
his hot little boy pussy rolling up from his backside. I could not stand it
a moment longer and had to eat that sweet stink wrinkle until he was raw.

I pulled back from his crotch and pushed his little legs back toward his
ears and watched his bottom peel open and reveal that sweet, tan glazed
pucker in the center. It was moist and glistening in the bedroom light and
I knew I needed to make love to his sweet pussy with my mouth and tongue.

As soon as his cheeks parted, a wave of stink poured out and I could smell
his unwashed, ripe smelly little rosebud. The smell was strong. As I said
before, this was no polite bit of musk, but the full-on butt stink of an
active ten year old boy.  It was powerful and pungent...the smell of boy
ass....his most intimate place. It smelled of overripe banana and sour
sweat....it smelled of warm blue cheese and wet earth. It was a dark, dirty
smell that pulls and repels you at the same time, but you know that you
cannot turn away. I needed his stink as desperately as I needed oxygen from
the air.

I was like a madman huffing my way down in between those spread cheeks,
feeling the heat and moisture on my face as I pushed into his swampy,
stinky backside. He was slick from sweat and the buildup of pussy grease
and smears of leftover poop. I could feel it sliming up my nose and cheeks
as I pushed further in until my nose was pressed up tight against his
rubbery ring. Oh fuck.....it was so dark, nasty and strong that I was
gasping and moaning at the same time. This was pure Leo....the most
intimate stink of a boy and I was buried face first into it.

My nose ached with every inhale.....he was raw and sticky and gamey and my
brain was being fucked with every molecule of stink. Almost without
thinking I began to lick around that rubbery wrinkle of skin...letting the
greasy, pasty funk melt off onto my tongue and burn me with the strength of
it's flavor. He was earthy and so bitter......and I could not stop. I was
like a crazed man trying to possess every bit of stink that boy had. I
pressed my lips fully onto his pussy lips and began to suck on his hole,
desperate to taste this boy.

Somewhere above me I know Leo was making noises....I could hear snippets of
his words mixed with a whining, whimpering noise that was music to my ears.

"Aaaahhh....mmmmmmuuuunnngggg.....mmmmyy poop ho....my poop hole. You are
licking my poop unnnngggg hole Uncle Dan" "You are licki.....lllllicking my
poop hole!!"  It was a cry....it was a plea....it was fascination and
disbelief....it was lust-tinged.....all of these things as Leo experienced
the pleasure of my mouth on his boy pussy.

His moans and whimperings were simply too much for me and my internal
filters broke down and I snapped. I pulled back from his ass and pressed
the head of my cock against his impossibly tight pussy hole. I didn't mean
for it to happen this way....I didn't mean to cause him any pain...but I
was lost in my own lust at this point. And later we would cry together as I
held this sweet boy and told him how sorry I was and that I never meant to
hurt him in any way....

But in that moment, I could not stop. I was intoxicated with the stink and
taste of his fuckhole and my cock was aching so badly that I was no longer
rational. I pushed against his wrinkle....against that unyielding muscle
ring.....increasing the pressure until his flesh started to slowly stretch
and mold itself around the head of my cock. I could hear Leo whimpering
more in pain than pleasure at this point, but I was beyond stopping. I
pushed even harder, feeling the hot, wet slickness of his boy pussy
squeezing me.....until as last that elastic ring of flesh snapped in tight
just under the ridge of my cockhead, trapping me just inside his hole. He
cried out and that was all it took for my balls to fire and began to pump
my cum up inside Leo. It felt like my insides were being pulled out through
the of my cock, the release was so intense. My cum immediately began to
leak back out around my cock, yellowed from being mixed with his inner
slime. and oozed down into his crack. I could smell him now in a deeper and
darker way and it caused my cock to jerk uncontrollably, forcing another
whimper of pain out of Leo.

Having drained my balls, his whimpers of pain now registered fully in my
brain and I pulled him up into my arms and began to shower him with kisses,
telling him how much I loved him, our tears mingling together as his pussy
expelled my cock and the remaining dribbles of cum.

I had wanted to rescue him from the pain and cruelty of his friends and the
anxiety of his parents impending divorce and I had instead broken my
promise to myself and caused him pain as well. I had hurt my sweet Leo and
it broke my heart. I didn't know if he would ever trust me again and that
was the worst pain of all.

"Uncle Dan........Uncle Dan...."  I heard his sweet voice through my tears
and self-loathing....'Uncle Dan....please don't cry. I love you.......I
love you"

And I just held him tightly in my arms, knowing that he was mine and that I
was his no matter what....

Leo's a good boy, everybody.

And once again, if we didn't make it clear before, everybody meet Leo.

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45. ROSES: MARTIN

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"Are you serious?"

I picked up Martin outside McDonalds, at Times Square, when I was in NYC on
business.  I was staying at the Ameritania on 54th Street, just of the
Square.  I would often trawl for boys on the Square at night. I knew where
to look and who to look for. After a while, target boys look like they're
practically holding a sign saying, "I'll do stuff for guys for money."

Martin was one of those boys and I had never once been questioned by the
Ameritania staff when I went took a boy back to my room.  I'm pretty sure
the majority of its revenue was from boylovers and in this economy, who's
questioning who?

Martin was selling roses outside McDonalds, a cover intro only too common
in NYC. He was wearing black jeans and a long sleeved white shirt, untucked
and open down to his tummy so his smooth, bare chest was showing. He was
wearing a very thin, long black necklace. See what I mean about wearing a
sign?  The open shirt? The dainty necklace? Those were his come fuck me
signs.

I immediately fell for him. Perfect age, looked around thirteen/fourteen,
cute look, small, great body, sexy facial features, cute dark hair -
everything.

"What's your name?"I asked him quietly as I stood next to him at the
entrance to McDonalds.

"Martin," he replied turning to me.

"I'll buy roses from you...and you can keep them and resell them," I
whispered back at him.

He checked me out. He knew I was one of them.

"Cool, he said. For what?"

Martin looked into McDonalds. I don't know what or who he was checking out,
but I believe he got a nod from someone inside.  He looked back at me and
whispered at break pace speed without pausing. I was catching words.

"Ten roses getsya sucked an' getsya a suck o'mine and five extra if y'wanna
cum on m'face no mouth no anal thirty minutes within five blocks."

When he talked, he had a gruffness in his voice, like sand was scraping on
his unbroken vocal chords.  I looked into McDonalds. I don't know who or
what Martin had been looking at. I saw nothing but lard asses and Big Macs.

At room 238 of the Ameritania:

"Can I do that for you?" I asked as Martin began popping the buttons on his
jeans.

"Sure...they're your roses, man," Martin replied. I got down on my knees in
front of him and started slowing popping his buttons one-by-one.

"How old are you, dude?" I asked him softly.

"Eighteen," he replied unconvincingly.

I smiled and popped his last button on his jeans and gently pulled his
flies apart. I tugged down on them a little and the waistband of his
off-white, Hanes boxerbriefs contrasted beautifully against his semi-tan,
smooth tummy.  I dug my fingers into the top of them and pulled them away
from his body...and then pulled them down slightly. Not a single hair to be
seen.

"Eighteen, huh?"

"Yeah, y'know."

It's difficult to lie when you know you wouldn't believe it yourself.

"Like...eighteen going on fourteen?" I said smiling up at him as his four
feet nothing towered over me on my knees.

"I'm nearly thirteen," he replied a couple of notches quieter than before
as though someone other than me might hear him now.

I had thirty minutes, right? That's all he had given me.

"Ohhhh, fuck, dude," I moaned out, "I wanna suck your dick so bad right
now."

Martin dug his thumb in his undies, practically stealing them back from me
and held them underneath the cutest, little boy balls you ever saw. They
were so small, like two little siamese walnuts. His little peen flopped
out, all of two inches, covered in a thick, overhanging foreskin that
closed to a corrugated tip like an elephant's trunk.

"Oh, my gawwd,"I thought to myself. "Am I REALLY gonna get this twelve year
old boy's little cock in my mouth and suck it ' til he cums?"

Bolts of sexual energy fired off randomly throughout my body as I tried to
rationalize the fact that while my colleges were having dinner at Blue Fin
on 49th and Broadway, I was on my knees in my hotel room in front of a
twelve year old boy I had only met fifteen minutes ago - and his little
hairless sixth-grader cock was right in my face waiting for me to suck it.

Fuck!

As I took Martin's pre-teen peen inside my mouth, I felt his hands rest
gently on the top of my head followed by a long, exhaling of sexual energy
breathing hard through his little nostrils. Martin liked to have little
dick sucked. No question about it.

I went down to his skin and then pulled my lips back up that soft little
dick, feeling the transition between the base of his peen and his
foreskin-covered little German helmet.  As I closed my lips around the
overhang of his foreskin, his dick immediately sprung up, removing itself
from my lips and standing all of three inches erect in my face. Martin
pulled himself back and found my lips again and then, pulling my head
gently to him in his hands, he pushed his little hard middle-school
boyspike back into my mouth.

"Aw, yeah," he muffled.

"Mmmm," I moaned back in confirmation, my mouth invaded by his little bone.

I managed to find the ridge of his little finger-dick underneath his
foreskin and I held it between the end of my first finger and thumb while
sucking on the end of his cock. I pulled back so I could see it as I peeled
him. He unpeeled easily and his thin, pissy foreskin dropped behind his
little cocklet-head as though it knew exactly how to behave in these
circumstances.

" I just peeled a sixth grader's cock in my face before my team had had the
chance to order their entrees at Blue Fin," I thought to myself.

"Ohhmmmmmmm, Imma gonna cum," he suddenly moaned out.

Fuck! I'd only sucked it for, like, thirty-seconds. I let his little cock
rest on my tongue and I opened my mouth wider so I could talk. He was so
little I could've fit his friend's on top of his and probably his friend's
too - and I woulda.

"Hold on to my ears," I told him as I locked back down on his hard little
pricklet.

I felt Martin shift his hands from the back of my head and the curl of his
fingers grip the back of my ears and his thumbs press onto the front top
side of them.  I stopped sucking, knowing exactly what he would do. And he
did.

As soon as I stopped sucking, Martin started fucking.

He held onto my ears, painfully so, as he stood in the middle of Room 228
at The Ameritania Hotel in NYC and fucked my boy-hungry face with his
little sixth grade boner.

I felt the pain shoot through my ears as he hit his climax. Damn, he was a
moaner.

"Fuckkkkk yeahhhhh," he moaned out loud, "I'm fucking cumming in your
mouth," and with those words, I felt a little splash of salty warmth hit
the back of my throat, dripping down it, forcing me to swallow. I longed
for more. Little came, but the taste lingered and there was no mistaking
that this twelve year old boy was able to cum. I'd tasted the proof and it
was like amber-fucking-nectar.

He pulled out quickly and let his undies snap back up after his climax had
rendered him empty.

"Don't get dressed yet," I said to him, "I've still got fifteen minutes
left.

"What do you wanna do?" he asked, plonking himself down on the end of the
queen bed.

"Get yourself undressed, dude, and I'll tell ya," I told him.

"No anal, remember?" he re-advised me.

"I know...I got it," I told him, and with that reassurance, I watched in
awe as Martin confidently undressed himself in front of me until he was
butt naked.

"Lie on the bed for me, " I instructed him, "I know what I wanna do for the
next fifteen minutes."

Martin climbed onto the bed and leaned back on his elbows. His little long,
thin, black necklace traced his tender young chest and fell to the left
side of him as he lay back. His spent little cock was beautfully soft
again, his nipples tight and hard and he looked all boy as he waited to
find out what I wanted from him next.

"So...what d'you want?" he asked me seductively. I looked in awe of my boy
god - the boy that had just cum in my mouth.

"I wanna..."

"Yeah..?" he prompted when I ran out of steam.

I paused for a moment, asked myself if I was really going to ask him what I
was intending to ask him - and then, I spoke clearly and confidently.

"I wanna sniff your smelly butthole, dude." With that, I lifted up my phone
and put it between us. He didn't flinch a muscle, not that he had any to
flinch. For a moment, awkwardness lingered like a bad smell. Martin looked
at me, tipped his chin lower to his chest and squinted his eyes.

"Are you serious?" he asked.

I looked him up and down, taking a moment to look at his hairless little
cock again and then looked straight into his eyes.

"I've never been more serious about what I want to do for the next fifteen
minutes ever in my life," I told him. He paused for a moment, looking me up
and down as I had done with him.

"Okay," he said, raising his cute little eyebrows, "I've been asked to do
some weird shit before, but..," he paused as though he was thinking it all
over again.

"...sniff my asshole? Really?"

'Sniff your asshole," I confirmed.

Martin looked at me, squinted again, then slightly shook his head.

"They're your roses, man," he said turning over onto his tummy. "They're
your roses."

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46. GATEWAY: SHAWN

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"Ewwwww...that's nasty" Joey said, smirking and turning seven shades of
red.

Two of the other boys clapped their hands over their mouths to muffle their
giggling, while the rest were scrunching up their noses and joining Joey
with a chorus of "ewwwwws."

Only Shawn was silent. He had that shy, knowing look on his face. He was my
sweet little co-conspirator and had helped convince the four other boys to
join me upstairs in his bedroom.

I had just asked all five boys if they would let me sniff their bottoms,
which had set off the giggling fit. Adults didn't say naughty things like
that to kids, and they were convinced I was just teasing them.

"I'm serious guys. I really want to sniff your bottoms" I said in as
serious a tone as I could muster. Their embarrassed giggling was infectious
and it was hard not to grin myself.

"Didn't Shawn tell you that I would give you each fifty bucks to buy your
favorite video game if you let me smell your stinky backsides?"

"Yeah, but we know he's just kidding us 'cause our butts are poopy, and
nobody's gonna try to smell that" said Henry, at seven years old, the
youngest of the group.

"You're just trying to trick us" said Joey, a real cutie with olive skin
and a head full of dark curly hair. "You're just trying to get us in
trouble."

"Nope guys, I promise...fifty bucks if you let me sniff your buttcrack. No
tricks. Honest. And it'll be our little secret."

Brent chimed in quickly.

"That's dumb. Why do you want to smell the place where I poop from?"  He
was an adorable eight-year-old with brown hair and lovely, imperfect teeth
that made him all the more wonderful to look at.

"I like the smell of little boy's behinds," I said honestly, eliciting
another round of soft giggles and embarrassed looks from the boys. "I mean,
come on, tell the truth, haven't you ever sniffed your finger after you
scratched your butt?"

The giggling and murmuring tapered off quickly. Bingo! They didn't know
that all little boys do the scratch-and-sniff and they were all shocked a
grown-up would know such a dirty little secret.

"Nuh...unn....I don't do that" said Sammy, the apple-cheeked blond, but the
pink flush creeping up from his neck was broadcasting that fact that he was
a first class finger sniffer. Of course I already knew this...it's what all
little boys do.

"Look guys...I'm not gonna tell anybody you sniff your stink fingers, okay?
It'll be our little secret."

I could see the wheels turning in their little heads, but they still
weren't convinced I wasn't playing a big joke on them. One they were afraid
would backfire.

"Okay, look. Here are two twenties and a ten for each of you. That's fifty
dollars each. I'm putting them right here on Shawn's dresser, one pile for
each boy. And just to prove I'm serious, Shawn will help me show you what I
mean.

The boys were silent and fascinated, and they all immediately looked at my
nephew...their friend.

Without any further prompting, Shawn came over to where I was sitting on
his bed and looked up at me with an impish grin on his face. I winked at
him and unsnapped his shorts and pulled down both his shorts and his
undies, leaving his naked, pert little backside exposed to the other 8
eyeballs in the room.

I could hear a surprised intake of breath and comments of "whoa" and
"Shawn" mixed-in with more snickering at the sight of their friend's butt
hanging out for all to see.

I leaned in to Shawn and whispered in his ear..."Let's give them something
to really shock their socks off okay?" His response was an excited little
"yeah," because, believe me, Shawn and I had already played our "sniff the
rosebud" game many times before.

I quickly got to my knees and eased Shawn down over the side of the bed,
allowing his cheeks to spread just a bit, revealing his dusky crack. I
wasted no time in pressing my face down into that moist valley and smelling
the familiar scent of his unwashed boy hole. It was fragrant to say the
least....pungent with the scent of salty sweat, sour cheesiness and wet
earth, like the perfect littel boy burrow it was.

The musky, ripe smell of his eight-year-old anus was glazed over with a
thin layer of sticky poop smears. Dirty and strong, the smell exploded into
my brain and caused my cock to leak precum into my shorts. I'm sure I
groaned audibly at the intoxicating stink assaulting my nostrils.

It was so easy for me to lose myself in the sexy, hot scent of a boy's most
private parts that I almost forgot that I had a room full of spectators.

I could hear the whispers of amazement, shock and disbelief at what they
were seeing. I heard Henry say "Ewwwww" and Joey croak out "Whoa, that is
so nasty." Reluctantly I pulled my face out of Shawn's sticky backside and
turned to look at the boys. Their eyes were as big as saucers. Their little
brains were having trouble processing that fact that an adult wanted to
smell their stinky places.

Breaking into their wide-eyesdwonderment, I said "Okay, who's next?"

I saw several heads shaking half-hearted no's. Henry, in his sincere
seven-year-old voice asked quietly, "Shawn...did it feel funny?"

Shawn just grinned and said, "Yeah, but funny good! Come on guys, Uncle
Eric really likes smelling poopers. Who do you think bought me all these
games?"

The boys took a look at Shawn's impressive stack of game disks and you
could almost seeing them doing the math in their heads.

Joey, 10, the oldest of the group, spoke up first.

"And you'll really give us fifty buck just for sniffing us? Nothing
else. No weird stuff or sticking anything in us?"

"I promise," I said. "Cross my heart and hope to die."

At that point, I knew I was on the verge of landing a starfish
buffet...four more stinky delights, each one unique in its pungency and its
eye-watering character.

"Shawn...you promise it's okay?" Joey double-checked.

"It's great," Shawn giggled. "It kinda tickles and feels good at the same
time. It makes me tingle and get a boner."

Joey looked over at the fifty dollar bills and back at Shawn who nodded his
head. I could see him weighing fifty dollars against the weirdness of
having me smell his most intimate place. Ultimately curiosity and the
thought of buying another one of his favorite video games ruled the day,
and shrugging, he walked over to me.

He was tentative and embarrassed, but I assured him it wouldn't hurt at all
as I eased his pants and undies down and bent him over the bed. His lovely
olive cheeks spread apart beautifully, revealing his tan little wrinkle and
the immediate, heavenly, spicy-sweet ass-steam of a happy, active boy.

I leaned in to get a deeper sniff of his swampy crack, loving the sharp
bitterness of his scent as compared to Shawn. I caved into my lust and
buried my face deep in between his cheeks, pressing my nose against his
puffy little balloon knot, feeling the sticky paste of his hairless little
anus, coating the end of my nose and filling my nostrils with his
magnificent, musky essence. His asshole was so perfect and so little. But,
God, there was so much stink.

My cock was throbbing my shorts and I knew that only a few strokes would
cause me to blast my nut juice. I wanted to prolong the ache in my balls
and enjoy the sensory delights of boy ass for as long as I could.

As I lost myself fully in a fog of fuckhole hotness, I shivered in
anticipation, knowing that peer pressure and cold hard cash would ensure me
at least three more dives into the cornucopia of crack stink that was
quickly spreading out before.

Boys fumbled with buttons, jeans slid down and I smiled, closed my eyes,
huffed Joey's perfect ass, and thanked the stars above my nephew had such
daring and adventurous friends.

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47. CAVERN: SHAWN, CONTINUED

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The bedroom reeked of sweaty boy and the sharp pungency of dirty boy
ass. It was the only tangible evidence left of the four hot little friends
of Shawn who had offered up their musky cracks to my nose for fifty dollars
in return.

Well...perhaps not the only evidence. I still had Henry and Brent's undies
in my hand. I had convinced them to leave them behind and go back home
commando.  It is amazing what an extra ten bucks can convince a kid to do.

These little treasures would provide me many more jack off session over the
next several days as the seat of both pairs of undies were covered with
beautiful creamy kiddie smears of tan goo and goodness. The smell alone of
those fragrant streaks reawakened the shiver-happy memory of both boy's
sweaty, dirty, baby booties, sniffed just an hour before.

Now it was just Shawn and I resting on the floor, his head resting on my
stomach while I idly scratched his back.

"Do you think your friends had a good time? I asked him, looking for an
eight-year-old's perspective on what just happened.

"Oh yeah, Uncle Eric. They were shy cuz you're a grown-up, but everybody
but Sammy's played butt games before, so I knew they'd let you do it."

I grinned at his response, knowing he and I had played more than a few butt
games together.

"Well, tell them we can do it again sometime...and maybe they'll let me put
a few things up their poop holes."

Shawn giggled and gave me a coy smile that said those boys would not be
hard to convince to play along.

I was tired from all the sexual tension of the afternoon...sniffing the
rank crack slots of five boys in a row had given me a sexual buzz not
unlike being high on drugs. But now that the boys were gone, the high was
waning and I was ready to rest. Besides, it was nearing Shawn's bedtime so
I crawled up on the bed and motioned for him to come and snuggle up with
me. He moved up beside me, pressed his cloth covered crotch against my
right hip and lay his head on my chest.

I eased my hand down inside his undies, slipping a finger down into his
moist crack to gently tease the puffy folds of his ring. It was just enough
to elicit a sweet giggle out of Shawn and cause him to press himself more
tightly against me, his little peener, half hard and poking me in the side.

We soon drifted off to sleep, the warmth of Shawn up against me and the
smell of boy ass in my nose.

Sometime in the wee hours of the morning, Shawn was stirring next to me and
I felt hot wetness against my upper thigh. He obviously needed to piss and
was just about to wet me and the bed with his little fire hose. While I'm
not opposed to having a hot boy piss on me, I was not in the mood for a
soaked bed and a change of sheets at five in the morning.

"Shawn wake up? Wake up, baby boy...you're about to piss yourself."

"Mmmm......doan wanna......sleepy" was the slurred response I got. He was
still worn out from our little adventure with his friends the day
before. Knowing time was of the essence, I picked him up and quickly
carried him to the adjacent bathroom.

Holding him in my arms, I marveled again at how much I loved and desired
this stinky little boy. I could smell that stale sleep smell wafting up
from his half-asleep body, mixed with the stronger scent of his little poop
hole, sticky and glazed from the previous day's activities.

"Shawn, baby. You need to pee for Uncle Eric," I said as I stood him in the
bathroom and kneeled down beside him. He was slowing waking up, but still
leaning against me for support. I pulled down his damp undies and let his
little 2.5 inch piss hard-on spring free.

"Unca Eric, hold it for me," he yawned, then he mumbled something else that
was unintelligible. But I understood enough to grab his little stiffy
between my fingers and give it a gentle squeeze.

Despite being in a partial fog of sleep, Shawn giggled at the feeling and
gave me a coy smile, looking for all the world like an embarrassed
eight-year-old. Of course, I knew better. Coy he might be, but he was not
embarrassed. He love to be touched and fondled by his Uncle Eric.

"Come on Shawn, pee so we can go back to bed."

In reality I was in no real hurry.
  Watching Shawn piss was a beautiful thing, and I knew from experience
that the piss dribbles in his undies were often sweet and tangy.

"You get a funny look on your face when you wanna see my pee," he said,
giving me a sleepy grin. Damn, kids can be so perceptive. I guess I had the
eager, hungry look on my face...he'd seen that look before.

"Okay, okay. Uncle Eric has a funny look on his face. Get to pissing, boy,"
I lovingly growled at him.

"Here comes the pee-pee train Uncle Eric!!!" he said and thrust his hips
forward and let loose. Fucking hell, I never cease to be amazed at
Shawn. He pisses with the speed, volume and ferocity of a hydrant hose at a
5-alarm fire.

He was in full little-boy mode, happily peeing and enjoying the good
feeling of emptying his bladder. His stream was knifing down into the bowl
where I was directing his rubbery spear, creating a nest of piss
bubbles. Gawd, it smelled good.

His his stream was a rich amber color and I could smell the strength of a
nighttime bladderful...a strong tang, almost acrid with puffs of ammonia. I
could feel the heat and moisture rising from the stream as the odor filled
my nostrils and quickly aroused me, despite the early morning hour.

I must have closed my eyes briefly and taken a deep sniff because I heard a
little giggle from above me. Shawn grinning proudly down at me...busted
again!!

"Uncle Eric...you are so funny. Why do you like my pee so much?" he asked,
half joking and half curious. How do you explain to an eight-year-old that
instinctive connection between the scents of a boy and arousal? That was
certainly not a discussion point for five in the morning while holding the
hard, pissing cocklet of my beautiful, nearly-naked nephew.

"It's hard to explain Shawn. Part of it is that it is a part of you and I
love every part of you and everything about you. You know it makes Uncle
Eric get hard and excited. You've seen that lots of times."

"Are you gonna suck my peener drips this morning?"  The cheeky little
bugger...he knew what I liked.

"Yep buddy...I am gonna lick up your dribbles and suck on your little boy
bone. And when we get back to your room, I'll give you some sweet
shivers. That sound good to you?"

"Duh," he said, giving me the verbal equivalent of an eye roll.

I gave his cock a bit more of a squeeze to let him know I knew he was being
fresh, causing him to squeak and piss to spray all over the bowl and my
fingers. We both laughed at the silliness as his stream finally begin to
diminish to a dribble. I quickly moved my mouth over the end of his little
piss stick and sucked up the last couple of drops, smelling the warm
fragrance of sweaty, yeasty boy crotch.

Fuck, his piss was strong this morning. There was nothing subtle about the
acrid, almost bitter bite to his morning offering. But despite the
strength, it was so freaking hot sucking those final drops of fluid out of
his hard little boy dick that I could endure a little extra kick in the
flavor.

Without warning, I felt Shawn flex his dick and shoot a final insult of
piss into my mouth, almost filling it to capacity. Not being prepared for
this, I coughed and spit piss all over his crotch. He was laughing like
crazy, knowing he had gotten the better of me for once.

"Gotcha Uncle Eric! I pissed in your mouth! I pissed in your mouth!" he
blurted out between fits of laughter.

My initial instinct was to be angry, but those sweet peals of laughter
quickly extinguished any hard feelings and I laughed with him. I mean,
damn, here I was with my mouth suctioning the piss drops out of the hard,
stinky dick of an eight year old...this was bound to happen sooner or
later. So I just pinched the end of his little flesh sword to let him know
who was boss, picked him up, threw him over my shoulder and carried him
back to the bedroom.

It was time get down to serious business if I was going to have any more
naughty fun with Shawn before it was time for him to get ready for
school. I think Shawn could sense that things were going to get more
serious because he got quiet and had that shy look on his face as I lay him
down on his back and pulled his sodden undies down and off his legs.

I couldn't let the moment pass without looking at the creamy tan smears of
boy butter in the seat of those undies, pressing them to my face and
inhaling pure Shawn ass, unwashed and raw.

"Baby boy...Uncle Eric is going to make you feel so good this morning. You
ready?

In an almost whisper he said "Please Uncle Eric.....give me my shivers"

"Oh yes sweet boy...I'm going to give you lots of shivers this morning, I
said as I looked down on this achingly beautiful naked boy...legs splayed
wide and his little boy parts already hard and throbbing ever so slightly
with each beat of his heart.

I moved down quickly, pressing my face against his bald pubic mound, just
smelling his skin, still damp from the piss I spit out earlier. I could
smell the sharp tang of piss and the soft sweat from the night's sleep. I
pulled back just a bit and let his little mushroom head rest against my
nostril, huffing up the stink of boy dick...FUCK...a sour-sweet smell...a
slightly cheesy smell as if he had rubbed the head of his dick on a block
of Velveeta hours ago. I just wanted to cram his dick up in my nose so I
could smell him even harder.

I nuzzled his smooth, pink nut sack. smelling the stronger scent of boy
sweat and the yeastiness of bread dough right underneath his sack, right at
the juncture of his sack and his smooth, round taint.

He was already softly moaning from the stimulation of my nose and face
touching and rubbing his sensitive bits, but he needed more.

"Uuunnnggghhh...please Uncle Eric...I need my shivers...please," he pleaded
with me, already addicted to the good feelings his still immature little
peener could give him.

Who can resist such a plaintive request from a naked, aroused boy?
Certainly not me, so I moved up from under his acorn satchel and slid my
lips down to the base of his short inches and began to suck, laving the
head of his cock with my tongue, especially at the sensitive spot right at
the top of his slender shaft.

"Mmmm...uuuuuuuunnnnnggggghh...feels good...mmmm...good Uncle Eric," he
hissed out in a whisper. He was breathing rapidly and ther was a gentle
grunting in his throat.

I eased my finger up under his taint and slipped it between his cheeks to
his sticky, puffy pussy hole. I began to slowly rub my finger around that
tight ring, teasing his anal nerve endings and sending little sparks of
electricity all the way up his skinny boy dick.  He was no longer still,
but moving around, instinctively pushing his crotch up toward my face,
trying to increase the contact of his dick with my mouth.

His breathing was accelerating and I knew he was starting the climb toward
a sweet, intense little boy cum, so I pushed steadily with my finger,
feeling his anal lips stretch open, allowing my finger to slide up into his
hot, pasty insides.

"Ahhh....my butt Uncle Eric...uh...puh...please play with my butt."

"Feel my finger Shawn...feel me finger your sweet little love hole,
baby...I am going to fuck you with my finger, baby boy! Right in your tiny
little pussy."

"Please....please make me have my shivers Uncle Eric...please!" he pleaded
as my finger began a steady slide in and out of his stink furnace, brushing
up against his immature little fuck nut and causing him to whimper each
time.

I increased the tempo of my fuck into his squishy guts and let my tongue
rapidly rub the underside of his cocklet. Shawn was starting to whimper and
moan, one flowing into the other as the feeling in his pelvis increased and
threatened to overwhelm him. I could feel how rigid his little spike was
and I knew he was about to bust a dry nut.

"It's doing it Uncle Eric...aaahhhhhh...my
shivers...uuuuuunnnnnngghhhhhh...my shivers!" he was crying out, almost
unintelligible, but I could feel his piss pole throbbing in my mouth and
feel his grasping little shit tube squeezing my finger as he passed through
his quivery, shaky, wild, beautiful boygasm.

He gave one last exhale of breath and went limp on the bed, the sexual
tension beginning to flow out of his body. I gave his perfect little dick
one final suck and let it slip from my mouth.

I moved up to hold Shawn in my arms and let him recover from his tingles. I
gently kissed his mouth, savoring the taste of boy and morning on his
tongue. Despite having just cum, he was an eager kisser and we tongue
wrestled for a couple of minutes until my need to eat out this boy's honey
hole and fuck him for real became paramount.

I moved down his smooth, tight little body and pushed his legs up toward
his head. His bottom rolled up and opened like the petals of a flower in
the morning sun...his dusky crack with that little pink starfish buried at
the bottom. Well, pink was probably an overstatement...it was more tan than
pink with a healthy glaze of leftover boyhood smeared across each fold. I
could smell him even before I pushed my nose into his crack.

You have heard of morning breath, well this was definitely morning
ass...the result of sweat, shit and ass grease baking on his balloon knot
all night long, trapped in his hot, moist crack...and bursting forth in the
morning with a sharp, acrid pungency that is unwashed boy ass at its
finest. And it was like pure aphrodisiac to me.

I pressed my face right down into that ripe stink and huffed up every scent
molecule of boy crack that I could. He was sour and earthy like beets
soaked in vinegar...he was musky and sweaty...perfume at its peak. I could
feel my cock leaking and soaking the front of my underwear as I pulled in
every lungful of the smoky fumes rising off of his most intimate place.

It was warm and moist as I pushed all the way down, pressing my lips to his
fudge wrapper and feeling the stickiness that was spread across his hole. I
moaned out loud as I sucked on his cum trench, letting his pungent glaze
melt onto my tongue and stun me with its bitterness and coppery tang. Shawn
was whimpering above me as I tortured his button with my lips and tongue
and lost myself in the moist, dense fog of his rectal perfection.

I ate his hole like a desperate man finding his first meal in a
week...sucking and gnawing on his fleshy folds and pushing my tongue at the
puckered up entrance to his cunt...trying without success to fuck my tongue
up into his hot, wet insides and taste this boy from the inside-out.

My cock was screaming for release and I knew I was not going to last very
long. I had to penetrate this hot boy before I came.

I pulled back from his steamy ass and lined my cock up with his tight
little rosebud. We'd ad been down this road before, Shawn and I, but it
felt like a new experience each time. This boy got me so insanely
hot. Combined with the long sniff buffet from the day before I was on the
edge of busting a nut.

"You know what to do Shawn"

"Yeah...push out like I have to poop...just don't go too fast, Uncle Eric,"
he grunted out, already pushing down and out with his muscles, causing his
anus to distend a bit and the pinkness of his inner walls to peek out.

Oh fuck...to look down and see a boy willingly opening himself to
you...willingly offering up his most private place for you to breed...it's
enough to make a man weep. My cock was certainly weeping and I smeared
those precum tears around the ring of his shitter and leaned into him ever
so slightly.

God, he was hot and wet and so softly unyielding. There was resistance, but
I kept slowly pressing until his ring began to spread and slide itself
around my cockhead...enveloping me in that moist, sweet chute of a boy
hole.

"Ooohhhhhh...Uncle Eric...I can feel you stretching me out...Uncle
Eric...your cock...your cock is going inside my poop hole!"

Words of truth spoken by an eight-year-old getting fucked. Indeed, my cock
was steadily burrowing its way up into Shawn's fuckhole, those tight lips
stretching around the shaft as I pushed deeper into his guts. I could
already smell our fuck...the sharp, strong bite of his inside escaping
around my cock.

The smell of Shawn's ripe and pungent ass and the whimpering and keening
noises he was making triggered my lust to break free of my control and I
pushed all the way up inde his tailpipe...my fudge-nudger buried deep in
his slimy, hot cavern.

"Aaahhhhhhhhh...it's deep Uncle Eric...so deep. I can feel it...f-fuck
me....p-please!!"

That was it...those three words, "fuck me please," uttered by Shawn in that
needy, whimpering voice was all I could stand. I pulled back once, seeing
the smears of his paste streaking my cock, smelled the scent of his
wide-open hole, the vinegar-sweat of my steel-hard man cock and all the
other mingled smells of our two bodies. I thrust up hard into his grasping
cunt and I came like never before, blasting his insides with a thick wad of
my babies.

"NNNNNNGGGGH" I grunted, as I blew his colon full of my semen.

He shivered and shook and wrapped his arms around my back and pulled me to
him. Kissing, whimpering, hugging. I collapsed on top of Shawn and kissed
his sweet mouth again and murmured how much I loved him.

It wasn't a pretty fuck...it wasn't what I had intended when I carried him
back to the bed, but it was done. I'd wanted to slowly fuck this sweet boy
until he shivered and shivered time and again. But he was just too hot to
slow down. The school day would soon be beckoning, and our time for a
slower one would have to come later, on another day.

Now as my satisfied and deflating cock, smeared with his perfect, shiny
butt slime, softened and slipped out of his red and swollen hole, I kissed
him one final time and sent him off to the shower...my cum oozing out of
his crack and down his legs...evidence of my love and lust for the boy.

"I love you, Uncle Eric," he giggled as he shook his perfect bottom at me,
before disappearing into the bathroom.

Shawn's a good boy, everybody. Oh fuck, he's a good boy.

I can smell him on my dick right now.

Believe me, he's good.

Everybody meet Shawn.

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48. ANYTHING: JACKSON

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11-year-old Jackson didn't want to be in therapy but he knew he had no
choice if he wanted to stay at Middleton.

He hadn't meant what he said to the other boy - about him being from bad
sperm. He knew it was insensitive given the boy was a foster kid, but he
meant it at the time. He had made Jackson so mad.

The other kid's parents were insisting that Jackson be removed from the
school. Jackson was an otherwise star student and the principal didn't want
to lose him and so he had negotiated with the other kids parents. He would
keep Jackson out of school and make him take therapy under the school's
supervison. When the therapist cleared him, Jackson would apologize to
other boy and he could go back to school.

Trouble is, Jackson hated therapy and his troubled upbringing and current
situation at home were now under scrutiny.

Jackson's mom's boyfriend of 2 years had been regularly creeping into
Jackson's bedroom in the early hours of the morning and, thinking Jackson
was asleep, he would suck Jackson's little cock and make him orgasm.
Jackson would pretend to be asleep but he would always wake up when he felt
his dick being sucked.

He knew if he showed that he was really awake, he would scare the guy and
that would make his blow job over. So, he kept quiet and still. He would
sometimes droop his jaw open to make it look like he was in a deep sleep
and occasionally he would force a snore. This was pretty much an open
signal to mom's boyfriend to suck away on Jackson's little cock to his
heart's content.

I was a terrible therapist.

I would be literally getting off in my pants listening to the boy tell me
his tales of woe. Other times, I would go on a mission to get him to sell
me his underpants so I could sniff them. Other times, I felt I had a good
shot at offering him a blow job or convincing him to let me smell his
stinky asshole.

Jackson was no different.

It didn't take longer than 15 minutes for Jackson to start opening up to me
and explaining what his mom's boyfriend had been doing for the last two
years. I thought, "Oh my gawd, this kid's been having his little cock
sucked since he was nine. I could be next to suck it!"

"How many times has this happened to you, Jackson?" I asked, getting horny
just at the prospect of his answer.

"I dunno...lots," he said, his eyes making contact with me and then darting
away again. He told me he was embarrassed and felt guilty that he always
had an orgasm when it happened.

"Is that the point where he stops sucking you?" I asked him.

"Sometimes he keeps sucking me, even after...y'know?"

"And what happens when he keeps sucking you?"

"It can happen again."

"You cum again?"

"Yes."

"So, Jackson, on a scale of 1 to 10 where 1 is "not at all" and 10 is "I
enjoy it very much," how would you rate how you feel when you orgasm when
this man sucks you?"

Jackson frowned. His eyes scouted the room, bouncing off the cream-painted
cinderblock walls in my office as he pondered.

"I guess a 9...10," he said shrugging his shoulders.

"So, this man, who obviously loves sucking your penis and believes you're
asleep while he's doing it, makes you feel 9 or 10 on a scale of 1 to 10,
right?"

"...right," Jackson said, a little unsure of himself.

"Well, I'd say nothing, and hope it continues for years to come."

Jackson looked at me. He was still frowning.

"Look, Jackson, a lot of boys don't get a blow job until they are much,
much older than you. Think of yourself as ahead of them. By years in some
cases. Lucky you."

"Yeah," he said a little taken aback. Lucky me, I guess."

Jackson looked around the room, down at the floor and the popped his head
back up.

"How long do I have to do this for?"

"Twelve weeks."

Twelve weeks!?"

"Yeah, school orders, or until I say I think you're fit to go back to
school."

"Well, can't you just say that I am?"

"I could, but I'm not sure it's true."

"Please," Jackson begged. "Don't make me do this for twelve weeks. I'll do
anything."

I paused for thought.

"You'll do...anything, you say?"

"Yeah. Whatever it takes."

"Would you...sing a song for me?"

"What?"

"Sing a song."

"You want me to sing a song for you?"

"You said you'd do anything."

Jackson thinks for a moment.

"Okay, what do you want me to sing?"

"I don't."

"What?"

"I'm just trying to work out what you will do and what you won't."

"I told ya, I'll do anything."

"Yeah, I heard you."

"What do I have to do?"

"Okay, here's something for you to think about.  I will sign you out of
therapy. Today. Finished. Complete. No more, if you'll let me..."

He looked up quizically.

"...if you let me suck your dick like you let your mom's boyfriend."

The room went dead quiet.

I could hear room tone echo from the cold, cream cinder block walls in my
office.

Jackson just stared at me, trying to process what I had just said and then
trying to work out if I meant it.

My face confirmed that I did.

Jackson gulped.

"Okay," he said. "If you sign me out today, I'll let you...but on one other
condition."

"Okay, what's that?"

"Mom's boyfriend sucks me in the dark, so, well, you gotta turn the lights
off."

I looked around the room. Jackson's eyes followed me to the window.

"It's daylight, Jackson. Even with the light off it's not going to be that
dark."

Jackson's mind was ticking over...and over, and over.

"Okay," I said. "Well, twelve weeks it is then."

"No, no, no...wait," Jackson said fearing he was going to lose all
leverage. "What if....what if you...like...suck me through my underpants?"

Jackson adorned his face with a, "I must look so stupid suggesting that,"
look. It made him look so adorable. He hung on my reply. He looked liked
he'd seen a ghost.

I smiled, slowly, which broke his look a little.

"Okay, I said, let's do that then."

---

Jackson was close to trembling with nerves when I had him standing in the
corner of my office against the wall.

"Slip off your t-shirt and jeans," I told him as I stood there watching
him.

It was like I was about to give him his school medical. He just did what he
was told and underneath his 11-year-old boy's black sweat pants, were the
cutest, skimpy little pair of white, Ninjago boy briefs. His little bulge
was concealed by them and Kendokai looked like he was trying to jump over
Jackson's little thimbledick.

"And your socks," I told him. I loved barefoot boys.

I was trying to process what was happening and what must be going through
Jackson's little preteen mind. He had had his little cock sucked by his
mom's boyfriend more times than he could remember and now he was peeling
his clothes off in front of me knowing he had just agreed to let me suck
his little dick through his underpants.

"You're beautiful, Jackson," I declared, "and although I'm going to miss
out on eleven weeks of you, it looks like it's going to be worth it."

Jackson stood there, nervous at best and more likely afraid. He looked
imminently vulnerable in just his little skimpy briefs.

"I'm just going to take a quick photo of you, Jackson, for no other reason
than it is my proof that you agreed to do this, if it should ever come
out."

I got on my knees, pulled out my phone and clicked.

Then I gently rested my hands on Jackson's slight of a waist, pulled him to
me and sucked down on his 11-year-old boy bulge through his underpants.

As I sucked his little boynub into my mouth, Jackson gasped and I felt him
go up on his tippy toes putting his hands down on top of my head to balance
himself.

I just kept sucking and sucking and sucking like I was gasping for air,
each suck making his skimpy little Ninjago briefs a little wetter until
they were soaked, and I could feel the full shape of his little boyhood. I
just wanted to blow this boy so good and hard.  I sucked and sucked and
sucked on his little preteen pricklet until we were both gasping for air,
but neither of us came up for any.

Jackson stabilized himself using my head as a balancing post, his little
pink toes gripping the tiled floor in my office like gun metal magnets. His
heels were half an inch off the floor, but as I sucked, they got further
away from it until his posture was akin to that of a whore in high heeled
shoes - his little heels as far away from the tile as he could get them. He
was practically leaning over me in order to stay upright, his knees
buckling underneath him as I sucked and sucked and sucked and sucked on his
hard little thimbledick through his white briefs.

Jackson's breathing became erratic. Air being pulled through his teeth and
then pushed hard out of his cute little nostrils. His fingers were splayed
out across my head and he was gripping my hair and pressing the base of his
palms against my head, breathing more and more heavily.

I sucked faster on Jackson's tiny little boybone as his breathing got
heavier. He knew he was on his way and so did I. Sucking him through his
underpants would not have been my first choice but there was something
kinky about it - pervy, naughty, fun - and it was his idea which made it
even more exciting.

"Ohhh, I'm gonna cum," Jackson suddenly blurted out followed by a rush of
air out of his nose. He pushed down one final time on my head with his
hands - hard. He lifted himself off the floor and practically levitated
throughout his dry boygasm.

I floated through it, loving every moment of every moment.

I just made an 11-year-old boy I just met, cum, by sucking his little cock
through his Lego Ninjago underpants.

I pulled back. Jackson's Ninjago briefs were soaked. There was no mistaking
he'd had his little cock sucked.

He got dressed hastily.

"So, you'll sign me off, right?

"I need you to come back for one more session so that it doesn't look
suspect to the school, okay?"

Jackson's face dropped.

I smiled at him.

"Don't worry. We won't be doing much taking."

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49. MATERNAL: VINNY

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Vincent had just started at Highland Elementary in the fourth grade. His
family had moved from Burbank, California to Alpharetta, Georgia, in
pursuit of his father's opportunities to further his career in
pharmaceutical sales.

It was a big move for a little nine year old Cali boy. Different climate,
different culture and a different set of friends.

At his school in Burbank, Ralph Emerson Elementary, Vincent had been quite
the popular kid. He was a first rate little-leaguer, a Select-class soccer
player and had appeared in several national TV commercials as well as
having enjoyed small roles in some big movies. He was also quickly emerging
as a talented young kick boxer and had already bagged a few junior trophies
to prove it.

On the surface, an almost tactile atmosphere of cuteness surrounded Vincent
whatever he did and wherever he went. It followed him like his shadow and
you could practically feel it between your fingers. The way he walked, the
clothes he wore, his smile, his hair, everything about him exuded a
"can't-quite-put-your-finger-on-it" emanation of boyhood and an
incalculable angelic beauty.

Vincent had a fine physique. Some might say he was little and skinny but
that would be parochialism at its best. If you took the time to inspect his
preteen body more closely, he wasn't skinny at all. His body was tight. He
was ripped. He had a body fat percentage close to zero and the outline of
his little six pack rested proudly on the V cut into his groin.

His small, slender back had the most distinctive curvature; a curl under
his shoulder blades down to his lower back - but before it could kiss his
twenty-two inch waist, it had to contend with the cutest, little round
bottom you ever saw in your life. His body was a teaser trailer and his
bottom the main feature presentation. Without his little bottom, Vincent
may have gone unnoticed by many of the adoring little girls and their
mothers who got woozy just looking at him. Whether they wanted to admit it
or not, it should've been obvious to anybody that his little bottom was
Vincent's most appealing feature.

Vincent's body was as much a work of art as his cute little face. He was a
stunningly good looking little boy. He wasn't exactly pretty, but he had
the cutest facial features and short, dirty blond hair. When he was kick
boxing, beads of sweat would develop on his little button nose and create a
salty droplet that would eventually dangle from the tip of it.

Make no mistake, Vincent was all boy.

"He's so cute," the moms would say at school pick up time and "my daughter
thinks your son is just the cutest boy ever." Vincent's mom, Kathy, would
smile politely. She heard it constantly and she also knew it was true. She
knew she was responsible for bringing one of the most physically attractive
and adorable creatures into this world.  The attention Vincent got from
girls (and their moms who all wanted their daughters to be his friend) was
something Kathy had gotten used to since he was around five or six years
old.

But Vincent's mom had a secret.

Kathy knew how cute her nine year old son was. She could understand without
any degree of maternal bias why any girl would find him cute, but she
wondered if they would still get all dreamy-eyed over him if they knew what
she knew.

Kathy wasn't proud of how her "little kink" had developed over the last
three years but she had come to terms with it. She no longer wrestled with
the good versus evil mentality within which she was once a pawn. It had
become her thing and knowing she was powerless over it, she had learned to
embrace it.

Kathy was in love with the smell of Vincent's stinky little bottom. She
couldn't get enough of it. She craved it - some days every moment of her
waking hours. With the exception of Vincent himself, for the longest time,
she was the only person in the world who knew what Vincent smelled like in
his most private place and it had all started out by accident.

Kathy was tidying Vincent's bedroom one morning when he was at school in
first grade. Geez, his room was a mess - toys and clothes strewn
everywhere. "Boys" she thought to herself as she started picking up his
clothes from the floor. She built a small pile of his dirty laundry in the
bend of her elbow while trying to discern between what was clean and what
was dirty.

Most of the time, it was easy to tell just by the way it was obvious how
Vincent had stepped out of his underpants or peeled himself out of his
sweaty little Under Armor vests after kick boxing and just left them on the
floor. Less obvious examples would typically require nothing more than a
visual inspection - a quick glance inside them for evidence of little
dribbles or skid marks.

It's a mom thing.

But this particular morning, when it all started, Kathy had picked up a
pair of Vincent's little black underpants from the end of his bed. By the
way they were placed there (as opposed to screwed up and strewn on the
floor), she couldn't tell if he'd worn them just by looking at them. She
opted for the glance test and opened them up in her hand but couldn't see
any evidence of her little boy's pee or bottom stains in them.

Of course, it didn't help that the undies were black but black was a good
choice for a boy of six years of age. They were the ones she'd send him to
sleepovers with because he'd often render his white ones unusable again
after a sleepover. She knew that his "poop and wipe" protocol was seriously
breached when he was preoccupied during a sleepover. She sometimes wondered
if he'd skipped the "wipe" completely.

What caused her to do what she did next, she has no idea, but it is the
single most defining footprint in the development of her obsession with the
smell of her son's bottom. She held Vincent's underpants to her nose and
took one quick, short sniff inside them.

She doesn't really know what she expected to smell. She was prepared for
clean or "smell worn" and either would've been okay in her quest to simply
clean up Vincent's untidy room. She was simply executing a mother's
process. However, in doing so, Kathy could have in no way predicted how she
would react to discovering the smell of Vincent's stinky little bottom in
his underpants for the first time.

From that one quick, shallow sniff inside his dirty little underpants,
Kathy felt a sharp rush of energy across her back. It traveled the length
of her spine and dissipated at her knees as they shook, followed by a
tingle of energy from every nerve center of her body and finally a rush of
goose bumps in places she didn't even know she could get goose bumps.

A well-educated woman of polite society, Kathy rarely cursed. She could be
cut off the road by a jerk driver and shout out in the car, "I hate you,
you idiot," only to follow her outburst with a prayer for forgiveness at
having used the word "hate."

"Ohhhhh fucccck," she screamed out loud in her son's bedroom, his dirty
underpants in her hand and inches from her face. She was experiencing acute
shock. She couldn't fathom what was happening. Confused and bewildered by
her reaction to sniffing her son's dirty underpants, she inspected them
again as if trying to convince herself that whatever it was she just
experienced, it can't be real. Three years later, there are days she wished
she hadn't gone for a second sniff. Her life would perhaps be very
different.

No evidence of having been worn existed inside Vincent's little six year
old boy undies and so it seemed only logical in an effort to comprehend
what had just happened to her to sniff them again.  A little more
apprehensive this time, Kathy held up Vincent's little underpants and
sniffed them a second time only this time it was a much more premeditated,
controlled sniff - deeper and longer.

As she inhaled the dank, musky scent of her son's ripe little anus, she
felt everything around her float away. It was as if everything else in the
world had lost any and all importance. She felt her nostrils process the
smell of Vincent's raunchy little six year old boyhole and shoot sparks of
sexual energy to every extremity in her body. She felt immediately
intoxicated and could feel her central nervous system all awry.

This time, Kathy's knees couldn't contain the sharp rush of energy that
bolted down into them. They buckled underneath her and she fell back with a
bounce onto Vincent's little bed. As she fell back, she felt the moistness
in the front of her panties dampen against the inside of her groin.

"Ohhhhhhh fuck, Vinny," she moaned out. "My son's little smelly bottom...oh
my god!"  Without a second thought, she fell back onto Vincent's bed until
she was lay across it width ways, her left hand holding her son's dirty
little undies in her face - her right hand down the front of her panties
circling her soaking wet clitoris with her middle finger.  She pulled
Vincent's undies away from her face and lifted them a few inches above her.

She shook her head in some kind of reaction to the contrast of disbelief
and immeasurable pleasure and then, screwing Vincent's undies up tightly in
her hand, she stuffed them back in her face and started to sniff them
hard. As she huffed them in her face, the smell of Vincent's bottom
momentarily disappeared. She frowned, loosened her tight grip on them,
rotated them a little and hunted for the darker, dank smell she had found a
moment ago.

'Sniff' no not there. Adjust. 'Sniff' no not there either. Adjust. 'Sniff'
Ohhhhh fuckkkk, yeah! There it was. Make no mistake, this is exactly the
spot Vincent's cute little anus had been marinating in. It was so dirty to
her but so immeasurably beautiful at the same time.  Like a dog on heat,
Mrs. Polly Polite sniffed and sniffed the stink from her six year old son's
anus until she gushed the most intense orgasm she had ever experienced.

From that day, Kathy was hooked. It was an instant addiction.

For several months, Kathy would secretly take pairs of Vincent's dirty
underpants and sniff them for moments of intense, personal, sexual
gratification.  Sometimes, when her husband was making love to her, she
couldn't orgasm unless she thought about the smell of Vinny's little
bottom. At first, she would think about what his undies would smell like
next time she got the chance to snag a pair but as with most fantasies,
Kathy's grew tentacles.

She began wondering what her son's bottom smelled like at any given
moment. She would look at him stood in front of the big refrigerator when
he came back from kick boxing, his little body trying to hold the door open
while he looked for a juice box, and she would find herself staring at his
cute little bottom in his little gray Nike shorts and just wonder what it
smelled like right then.  Sometimes, when she was alone with him, there
were moments where it would take all her self-control not to just fall to
her knees, yank his shorts own and bury her face between his stinky little
ass cheeks.

When Vincent's dad was away on business, Kathy would sleep with three pairs
of Vincent's underpants in her bed.  She would use one pair that she would
put a baby carrot inside and gently push up her pussy and then cross her
legs to keep it in. She loved having Vincent's dirty little underpants
inside her and the carrot made it feel like her son was asleep with his
boner in her increasingly boyhungry cunt.

She would use a second pair to rub her breasts with and a third pair,
usually the stinkiest she could find, to sniff. The first time she did this
she thought she was going to cum and die. The intensity of her orgasm was
almost too much to bear alone without medical supervision.

As she huffed the stinkiest anus from her sweaty little kick boxer boy's
undies, she felt a climatic rise from the tip of her toes to her scalp
followed by an involuntarily spasmatic lock down of her pussy walls onto
the two and a half inch phallic representation of her son's little boner
that was pressed inside her.

It took her all night to get over it and she was certain she was unlikely
to experience such a sexual high ever again. She loved her husband,
Vincent's dad, but he could never make her orgasm as intensely as she could
just by intoxicating herself with the smell of her son's stinky little
bottom from his underpants.

Over the months that followed that first experience, Kathy found herself
becoming more and more controlled by her obsession with the smell of
Vincent's little bottom. She had been the duteous mother who constantly
checked if Vincent had taken a shower and put on clean underwear. Not any
more. She would let him go days without a shower and purposely not wash his
dirty laundry for a few days so he would be forced to wear his underpants
for three and four days at a time.

Her orgasms were always so intense when she was sniffing Vinny's dirty
little underpants.  She especially liked the smell of his cute little ass
from the undies he wore for kick boxing practice and it's one of the
reasons she agreed to put him in a three-times-a-week training schedule. It
simply became so perverted, so dirty and so exciting to her.

As Vincent reached seven, then eight, more and more people began telling
Kathy how "cute" he was and the fact that she was getting off on the smell
of his dirty little bottom became more and more exciting as a result.

"I wonder if you'd think that if you knew what his dirty little bottom
smells like..." Kathy thought to herself when her friend, Carla, told her
how Vinny is "so damn cute."

Often being interrupted and cut short on some major sniffs, frustration got
the better of Kathy and she hatched a plan. She told her husband she wanted
to attend a Women's conference in Atlanta and she would stay at a downtown
hotel to avoid having to drive back and forth. He husband thought it would
be great for her to get away and agreed that he would take Vinny to his
kick boxing classes and treat him to an afternoon at the shooting club.

T minus fourteen days to the "conference," and Kathy started saving up
Vinny's dirty lil' undies. As he discarded them on his bedroom floor (as
well as the pairs that actually made it to his laundry basket), she took
them and zip-lock bagged them individually.

When the Saturday of the "conference" came, she packed her suitcase. She
packed light. She wouldn't be needing many clothes. She planned to spend
most of the time drinking wine in her room and working her way through her
son's two weeks' worth of stinky little underpants while she poked herself
with a small, 2.5 inch carrot - she would dream of intensely sniffing her
son's rank, ripe, raw little boyhole and then him fucking her hard with his
little carrot stick.

She had attended every one of his kick boxing practices during the last two
weeks. Everyone was watching Vinny show off his emerging talent as a kick
boxer but Kathy was just staring at her son's bottom, imagining how sweaty
and ripe it was getting and how much it was making his underpants
stink. She would watch him and find herself practically drooling over her
son's little ass wondering what it smelled like.

She video'd every practice on her phone, knowing exactly what underpants he
was wearing so she could look at the video when she sniffed them at the
hotel.

And that's what she did. She would pause the video at the beginning of each
clip, grab the undies from that session, and then sniff them as she watched
him work out his kicks.

Every single pair smelled of Vinny's bottom. Some were sweaty and rank and
raunchy and ripe, others were a little skiddy and strong and some were
acrid and tangy.  It was hard to choose a favorite pair but she had one
nevertheless.

The white pair of Hanes he wore in the video clip at 3.09 where he is
wearing a blue Superman Under Armor shirt and gray and blue shorts. Those
undies she had especially manipulated. They were Sunday's practice and she
had left no clean underwear in Vinny's drawer over the weekend. He hadn't
said anything, he just kept on wearing the pair he had put on for school on
the Friday morning.  It was Sunday now. All day in school in them on
Friday, slept in them Friday night, played in them all day Saturday, slept
in them Saturday night, played in them all day Sunday and THEN went to kick
boxing still wearing them.

Fuck, they were the best pair. They simply smelled like ass. Like boy
ass. Rank and ripe and tangy and strong - a mix of dirty little boy asshole
and sweaty lil' boy cheeks.

Kathy stopped counting her orgasms. Each one was intense and every pair of
undies had instigated at least three orgasms for her. She hardly slept a
wink during the entire conference. She stayed in her room, ate minimally,
drank wine and water and spent fifty five of every sixty minutes with the
smell of her nine year old son's stinky lil' bum star under her nose.

Now, all she had to do was find another mom who was into the same thing.

Thank goodness there were more women's conferences on the horizon.

Because Vinny's a good boy, everybody. And Kathy's got the Ziplock in her
briefcase to prove it.

Meet Kathy's son Vinny, ladies.

Everybody meet Vinny.

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z.blake@mail.com
markhazelton65@hushmail.com