Surrogate Sexual Awakening

   By Rob Loveboy

   Gay,pedo,incest,Mb,Mt,tt,

   Chapter One: Incestuous Beginning; late wife, surrogate son

   Anton Bergski was 32 when he lost his wife to a drunk driver.  A fitness
instructor with the title of master sergeant commander in the army, he was
left alone to raise his 8 year old son, Damon.  He longed for his departed
wife.  He was never able nor did he know how to go about dating other
women. The strikingly handsome man was often set up by wives of friends,
any one of which he could have taken home and used for a night to alleviate
his manly desires had he been inclined.  Since Fran's death he had lost all
interest in women and sex.

   Something happened deep inside his psyche; Anton began to lust after the
youth cadets, 13 to sixteen who were under his care during their three
month summer boot camp experience.  The camp was intended to prepare them
for military life down the road, should they choose that career path later
in life.  The position kept him home to be with his son and not somewhere
fighting another country's battle of the month.

   Anton fought off the impure thoughts of 120 boys under his gymnasium
physical fitness programme doing calisthenics completely naked --a lesser
known military training tactic to instil self-confidence and prepare them
for the reality of a no-privacy life in the military.  These cadets would
learn to shit, shower and jerk off together by the end of their first year
boot-camp stint.  It was not unusual to see boys jerking off in the morning
communal showers, or while rinsing off after a strenuous day of training.
--another encouraged practice quietly condoned by the military.  Older boys
who returned every year set examples for the younger rookies.

   Leading by example, Anton would sometimes shower with the boys and pound
his meat until he blew a load over the black tiled floor.  Not something
the military would necessarily approve of, but no rules stated he couldn't.
His assistant, 22 year-old private Boris Dolyniuk was no stranger to the
military's unwritten grooming policy having spent his teen-years at cadet
camp.  He thought his superior's `hands-on' technique of training rather
odd never having seen other instructors naked let alone, masturbating. 
Boris knew what side his bread was buttered on, kept his mouth shut and
proved himself as a worthy assistant trainer by following his master's
lead.

   His homosexuality concealed, fostered during his youth at camp, Boris
fought long and hard to be assigned to a youth camp program and Sergeant
Bergski's unique approach was a breath of fresh air.  He could shower with
the boys and do the nasty in front of them without raising suspicions

   There was something about the masculinity of it all that encouraged
Anton to zealously promote the military's silent doctrine.  Boys were made
into men in many ways and means during their stint in the army camp; boys
jerking off together could only enhance comradeship later in life away from
home fighting someone else's war.

   Anton's son, Damon, was the light of his life.  So much like his mother
with his longish blond hair and steel-blue eyes; His fine facial features
were almost identical to his mother's, sadly, the memory of her in his son
was heartbreaking and ever present.

   Damon loved his father even more since that awful day that tore him to
pieces.  His father's strength and constant presence comforted him.  They
went on many outings; camping under the stars, rugby matches; movie
cinemas, to mention but a few.  However, his greatest enjoyment was when
his dad took him to the cadet base and he proudly watched his hero at work.
Like a school teacher, he thought, stern yet fair, and the cadets seemed to
look up to him.

   Later, Damon saw boys of all ages naked in the change rooms.  He even
saw Boris, a man, who's thingy looked like a Polish sausage jutting out and
curved over rather large testicales that swayed when he walked.  Little did
10 year-old Damon know that the man was semi-erect because of the eye-candy
in his midst.  Maybe it was even partially due to the gorgeous young boy
sitting on the nearby bench trying not to be too obvious.  Anton never
showered with the cadets if his son was present.  The boy had never even
seen his father completely naked so it was understandable that his curious
was piqued with glances around the locker room, especially centred on
Boris.

   It was some days later when Damon told him he wanted to shower and not
bathe like a little boy in a tub any more.  Anton was miffed by his son's
sudden judgement on boyhood evolution.  That was the first indication that
his boy was maturing; it scared the fuck out of him, he wanted Damon to
stay a child forever.

   Damon was a bed-wetter at times, however, less so at ten years-old. 
After the boy had such an accident he would appear at Anton's bedside
naked, shake the man awake waiting to be invited to sleep with him.  Anton
cuddled the boy and both would go back to sleep.  The housekeeper took care
of the soiled bedclothes the next day.

   It was that same night Damon let it be known that he was not a little
boy any longer that Anton saw him in a different light.  Cuddling the boy,
his cock grew hard as he thought about his deceased wife and the replica of
her in his bed.  Anton lightly pinched the sleeping boy's nipples and ran
his hand down the satin skin as sweet and tender as his lovely Fran's had
been.

   Mixed feelings rushed through him like a freight train.  His cock, hard
as rock contained in his boxer-briefs, was pressed against the boy's lower
thighs and began to slowly hump the crevasse between Damon's closed legs.
Anton, in a state of mindlessness, stretched the waistband of his briefs
hooking it under his balls.

   Unencumbered, the heat radiated off the boy's thighs over his modest
seven-inch cock.  He was lost in oblivion.  His heavy breathing alone
should have woke the boy as he slithered up the bed and maneuvered his
throbbing dick between his son's full rounded plump bare cheeks, a feature
that Anton admired in other boys.  He gently nestled his cock in the tight
confines like a ball-park frank in a bun.  Anton could feel his slime
laying a slick path up and down the boy's crack.

   In the heat of passion, his forearm held the boys hips tight against his
crotch while he dry-fucked him, but to his surprise, when his hand
accidentally grazed the immature genitals, he began to fondle them.  He'd
not seen Damon naked in quite a while, a velvety uncut cock and testis hung
at least two inches.  He placed his pinky finger to the first knuckle
inside the delicate thin foreskin and lightly massaged the penis head. 
Amazed, Damon began to react and was fully erect, Anton couldn't resist the
urge to masturbate his son's three-inch, nickel size in diameter shaft.

   Suddenly, moments later, he was cumming and smearing the sleeping boy's
crack and lower back.  Anton slept peacefully the rest of the night and by
morning his cock was glued to his son's ass, hating himself for what he had
done

   He was all but on top of the boy who never stirred a muscle as he
literally peeled his cock from the boy's cheeks, his pubic hair like
ripping a band-aid off.  He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling.
He had never touched a boy before, his own son being his first.  His cock
stirred again thinking about several of his platoon members.  He stroked
his cock mildly then madly until Damon stirred.  He swiftly pulled the
sheet up a foot or two to his waist quickly hiding his excited cock placed
back in his underwear.

   They had breakfast, Damon in his little robe, Anton only wearing his
tight crusty white boxer-briefs stained a yellowish hue dead center. 
Damon's robe hung open at the chest, past his navel covering his goods
momentarily until his left upper thigh was revealed nonchalantly eating his
cereal and looking at a comic book.

   Lovingly looking at his son Anton said without really thinking, "How
about that shower you want instead of a bath?" He hesitated and added, "I'm
going to have mine now, we can share the hot water." He didn't know why he
made the invite but the ten year-old looked up from his comic book, stood
quickly, read the last blurb of whatever had held his interest and darted
to the bathroom.

   He was already standing naked, the robe at his feet when, moments later,
Anton followed.  He showed Damon how to regulate the water to prevent from
scalding himself and, as he was doing this, he tried to ignore the pink hue
of Damon's genitals over the milk-white skin accentuated by the well
sun-tanned body.

   Anton never hid his nudity from the boy, per se.  When at the public
swimming pool he simply turned to quickly change as any modest man would
do. He had all of three seconds to question the morality of showering with
the boy but concluded that it was his son and permissible despite the
stirring of his cock.  Anton removed his underwear and saw his son's jaw
drop, eyes widen, unable to peel away from the manly display of five
semi-hard inches of fat meat.  Once in the shower, Anton turned front and
center to his son allowing the water to cascade over both their bodies.

   Damon stared in awe at his father's goods as Anton soaped his hardening
cock.  The boy's eyes grew wide as the cock grew longer by the inch.  With
a sly smile up at his dad, the man looked down at his son and without
thinking, said softly, "You can touch it if you want, Damon."

   As if it might bite him, Damon gingerly placed his palm under the shaft
and lifted it to admire the low-hanging man-balls underneath.  Seeing the
boy's interest in his gonads, Anton took Damon's other hand to reassure him
that he could touch those as well.

   The man was then rock hard.  Damon had wrapped his hand around his
father's cock while weighing the acorn-size, smooth-as-silk testicles. 
Little would the boy know then that his father meticulously shaved his
balls and manicured the dense bush of black curly hair arching the base of
the mesmerizing appendage, thick as Damon's wrist, that had grown before
his eyes.

   Anton knew what he was doing was shamefully wrong, well over the
limitations a father should go with a curious son.  However, he wasn't
thinking logically.  In desperate need to blow a load, he placed his hand
over the top of the boy's own and slowly masturbated.

   Damon looked up at his father dumbfounded.  He saw the man's face in
what looked like agony staring back down at him but a smile reassured him
that whatever was happening was strangely okay.  He stared at his father's
pink pee slit that seemed to pulse and spit out several gobs of snot-like
goop onto his face and neck, his dad grunting the whole time until just a
drool of the white stuff hung from his cock swaying in the air like a
pendulum.

   Anton came to his senses after he finished face painting his wide eyed
son with the head of his bulbous cock.  He had come very close to inserting
it between Damon's lips when he was cumming and was ashamed and embarrassed
at what he had done.  He began wiping the semen from Damon's face with a
cloth.  He knew that an explanation seemed in order to play down the lurid
incident.

   Anton held the puzzled boy's chin up and looking down into his son's
beautiful eyes said sternly, as if a lesson was to be somehow learned, "You
have now seen the virile fluid that brought you into this world, Damon. 
Man's sacred seed to impregnate females, . . .  you remember our little
talk of the `birds and bees,' don't you?" Damon nodded his head.  "When you
get a little older, you will rub your dick because it feels nice and
produce your own semen.  Daddy has shown you how, as all fathers do this
for their sons, but it is our secret, yes?"

   Damon nodded his head in understanding.  One of life's mysteries had
been revealed, not to mention what boners were for besides needing to pee
badly in the morning.  He peered down at his own shrivelled up, tiny
mushroom capped penis and wondered when the magical transition would take
place.  He couldn't help but ask his father, "When will I get a big boy's
penis, papa?"

   "Damon, you are no longer a little boy, you are ten now.  first, stop
calling it a penis, only little boys use that word, it's called a cock."
With nothing to lose, and the lurid, yet titillating vision of his son
beating his meat, he blurted, "I've taught you how to make it feel nice,
that's called jerking-off, I suggest you start doing it in your bed at
night.  Practice; and it will start growing." Anton laughed and ruffled the
boy's long wet mop of hair and added, "Also, you'll squirt the white stuff
before you know it."

   Damon hated bedtime.  However, he looked forward to it later that night.
He would begin training his `cock' without delay.  It was all he thought
about during class that day.  He was often distracted from Mr.  Kossiac's
instructions as he was looking at the bulge in his teacher's trousers
wondering if the man's cock would be as big as his father's manhood.

   Anton was having similar thoughts during his day at cadet camp.  A new
batch of recruits had arrived to replace the older teens that had graduated
from the academy to hopefully serve their country.  Ten new boys barely
thirteen years old, all clad in tight white shorts, t-shirts, socks and
shoes; even white boxer-briefs, all army issue, who were lined up at
attention for Anton's standard inspection and lecture regarding rules and
regulations of his cadet camp.

   Anton knew that Boris, a medical student, was giving newbie's medical
examinations, although they had all passed physicals before hand.  Boris'
specialty was `preventative' hernia exams and not just for the new recruits
either; he also gave regular check-ups to the seasoned cadets.  Anton often
found a reason to enter the medical room and envied the young man holding
up a cock while his other hand examined a boy's nuts under the false
pretense of a basic medical procedure.  A proper examination required an
erection, he claimed.  Anton knew what Boris was up to and turned a blind
eye to it.  After all, there was no harm done; and if Boris found
entertainment from it, so be it.  Not one complaint of inappropriate
behavior had ever been lodged against the young handsome doctor to-be, and
in the military, one didn't go around poking his nose looking for dirt
unless orders came down from the top, or a formal complaint was filed.

   Anton looked over the new boys who jumped to attention at his presence.
Donned in just their underwear awaiting a medical, his eyes took in their
beauty right down to their manufacturer's designed pouches; the tight
material left little to the imagination, an appetizer for when he would see
them in all their glory at shower time.  From experience, Anton knew that
the new boys would suffer a sense of inhibition, covering their junk with
both hands.  The older cadets would taunt and tease the new cadets,
themselves baring all without modesty, until self-confidence and peer
pressure and sometimes even by playful physical force, would the newbies
relax and expose all shamelessly.

   That day, Anton was exceptionally horny.  He thought about his son in
the shower that morning and how easily he could manipulate the boy.  He was
tired of jerking-off after his wife's death, and later, in front of his
cadets.  As stimulating as it was, even masculine and macho, the care-free
attitude that he was striving to instill in his cadets went far beyond the
military's unwritten agenda of the shameless, instinctive male need to
masturbate.  It was a chance he took along with Boris by convincing himself
that it was an innocent `lead-by-example' philosophy; after all, he wasn't
a paedophile, was he?  He'd never touched a cadet that way.  He would jerk
off thinking about his deceased wife and the great sex they had enjoyed
together.  Occasionally his eyes wandered to one or other of the
masturbating boys under his care and guidance but he quickly dismissed the
impure thoughts.

   * * *

   Boris was usually content just having them pull down their underwear, or
in some cases, doing it himself if a boy was too shy.  He would fondle
their genitals while he probed the groin area knowing exactly how to get a
boy embarrassingly erect.  The temptation of performing oral was
overwhelming.  Often he would end up with his dick hard and leaking.  That
day he succumbed to the temptation.

   Pieter Dranski was the most beautiful thirteen year-old Boris had ever
seen.  Sadly, the boy's long, dirty blond hair would be sacrificed later
that day by the barber.  He had piercing steel-blue eyes, a handsome square
face and a bronze swimmer's torso that had seen lots of sun.

   The sight of Pieter's basket directly in front of the seated man caused
his cock to spring to attention in seconds.  The flaccid shaft, thick as
Boris' own, displayed itself left in the tight white underpants, plump
strawberry-size testicles filled the right side, the outline prominent in
the shrink wrap-like confines.  Boris' cock throbbed, the wetness seeping a
dark stain in his grey sweat shorts, an aversion to wearing underwear since
childhood.

   Boris was no stranger to cock.  He was seven when it first started.  His
two older brothers, who were 15 and thirteen and used his mouth and ass at
will, sometimes at the same time.  Other than being painfully fucked the
first few times, he liked his brothers' cocks, and those of their friends,
and grew used to being gang-bang fucked along with an assortment of cocks
to suck, his favorite activity.

   Pieter followed orders standing in front of the seated officer and
tucked his thumbs under the waistband of his boxer-briefs and slid them
down to mid-thigh.  Four inches of uncut thick boy-cock was exposed almost
completely blocking the cherry-size orbs seen partially peeping from either
side of the man-size cock.  Intriguing was the almost hairless groin, Boris
could have counted the blond pubic hairs sprouting above and on either side
of the delicious looking thirteen year-old's dick.

   Boris' experienced hand trembled as he played the doctor role, feeling,
massaging and squeezing the kid's genitals.  His fingers encompassed the
growing shaft that red-faced Pieter was struggling unsuccessfully to stave
off to no avail.  Six inches of salami jutted straight forward.  The
officer's mouth was close enough to Pieter's crown that he could feel the
man's warm breath over it.

   That time Boris could not restrain his emotions and dared all by taking
the boy's cock into his mouth.  Both hands went to Pieter's ass and
squeezed the soft buns as he pulled the boy into his face.  It had been a
long time since Boris had a cock to worship and fell to his knees off the
chair, his favorite submissive position.  Sucking and bobbing like a mad
man, his forehead slapped Pieter's belly repeatedly, his breathing heavy
inhaling and exhaling through his nose not daring to release his oral grip
in order to fill his lungs.  He learned long ago how to perform quick
blowjobs in places where the threat of being caught were high in order to
receive his just reward of a mouthful of jizz before any interruptions
prevent it.

   Only one other time had he abused his authority and took advantage of a
naive new cadet, 14, telling the boy that he detected something in the
groin and that by masturbating himself, Boris would soon be able to tell
for sure.  For this `examination' he had the boy lay prone on the cot for
comfort to beat his meat while Boris `examined' the boy's exceptionally
large luscious testicles.  A cup at the ready, the semen sample would need
to be lab tested for absolute assurance that a hernia wasn't present. 
Boris blew a load in his shorts when gobs of milky white boy-cum vollied a
respectable amount into the receptacle.  The kid stopped pumping himself
for some reason and Boris took over giving the boy shit for not following
through on orders and milked him until the last drop dribbled from the pee
slit.  Turned out the kid had a very sensitive cock after ejaculating. 
Boris had thought the kid was wincing in delight at his handjob.

   Once the boy departed, Boris poured the potent semen collection in his
mouth and licked the small paper cup clean.  Like a junky getting his fix,
he was satisfied once again.

   Pieter did not try to get away for two reasons.  First, his father,
trying to make a man out of him and in the interest of male bonding, had
taken him to a brothel for his birthday one month earlier where he got his
first blowjob from a whore his father was fucking from behind, and learned
to like oral sex very much.  So, if the officer wanted to suck his cock, so
be it.  Besides the man was much better at it than the whore.  Secondly, he
was told by his father in no uncertain terms that if was expelled from the
academy that would make a man out of him, like he was in various other
schools, he would find himself homeless and living in the streets.  Surely
he would be powerless to defend why he punched an officer in the face,
nobody would believe him.

   As luck would have it, his superior officer walked in just at the moment
he had a mouth full of boy-cock unloading its nectar.  There was no denying
what Boris was doing.  Anton stared and said nothing for a long while.  He
watched the scene unfold before him as Boris struggled to pull-up the kid's
underpants over his wet erection, as well as his own shorts he had opened
to masturbate himself.

   Anton looked at the boy who was covering his genitals.  He was red faced
and scared as if he had done something wrong for which he would be in
trouble.  How easy it would be to molest him, Anton thought.  The boy's
thick ruby-lips looked inviting enough to cause his dick to become
painfully hard just like it had been that very morning with Damon's hands
on his genitals.

   Instead, it took every ounce of courage to tell the boy to dress and
leave.  He didn't need much prodding.  In his rush he was almost tripping
even before his left foot found the right leg of his underwear.  Anton
watched the boy hastily leave the room with his underpants on backwards
only to face his laughing peers heard from behind the closed door.

   Boris was a handsome young man.  Anton had always suspected the man's
sexual preference but, on that day, he confirmed it without any doubt. 
What to do about it was now the unfortunate question.  Boris had been loyal
to the military as well as to Anton and the academy.  The cadets like and
respected him for the last three years.  Boris had to consider that
attribute in the officers favor.

   Boris knew that his military career was probably finished along with his
military paid college funding.  He searched for words but could not find
any.  There were no lies to be conjured to cover up what his superior saw
with his own eyes.  Boris made a move to rise from his knees, however,
Anton instructed him to remain as he was

   Anton asked, "How many boys have you molested here, Private Dolyniuk?"

   "I swear, Sir, that was the first time I lost control of myself on camp,
Sir." he lied, not mentioning the boy he made jerk off under false
pretenses, but came to his senses and confessed.  "One other boy, Sir.  I
watched him masturbate according to my instructions, Sir."

   Anton was impressed.  The man did not have to reveal that, and in doing
so, it told him that Boris was telling the truth.

   "Do you consider yourself a homosexual, Boris?"

   "Yes, Sir.  Very secreted one all my life, Sir."

   "I admire your honesty.  Your good reputation outweighs what went on
here.  I certainly didn't see the boy trying to get away from you,
therefore he must have liked what you were doing to him.  As far as that
other boy who you made pound his meat in front of you, I did not see that,
Private Dolyniuk, therefore I consider it heresy."

   The relief on Boris' face was a mixture of shock and euphoria.  He
straightened up his back and saluted his superior office.  Sir, thank you,
Sir!" he shouted.

   Anton walked over to the young man on the floor, opened his pants ever
so slowly watching Boris looking back up at him in a confused state, and
swallow hard.  Anton released his desperate cock pointing it at Boris'
mouth..  Without a moment's hesitation, Boris took his commanding officer's
offering into his mouth, hell, he would bend over the desk and take it up
his ass if the man wanted him to.

   Anton closed his eyes and enjoyed the pro going at him.  He had a way
with his tongue, mouth and fingers that sent shivers up and down Anton's
spine.  Although Boris would have loved to pleasure the man far greater,
time was of the essence and he took care of matters even surprised himself
at how quick the man was in blasting his tonsils.

   Anton would have liked to have given his first blowjob to Boris.  Matter
of fact he craved doing so, though he doubted he would perform as well as
the career homosexual, Boris.  Anton was very confused about his sudden
possible sexuality shift.  Was it because he could never find another woman
to replace the one he lost and somehow his pent up need for sex with
another human being had found a surrogate outlet?

   "Thank you, Boris, I needed that." he humbly said.

   "Sir.  It was my pleasure.  And if I may say so, Sir, off the record of
course.  You have a very nice cock and anytime . . ."

   Anton cut him short.  "Dismissed private."

   "Yes, Sir!" he saluted.  "However, Sir, this is my office, Sir?"

   Anton laughed and walked out to muster the throng of boys left
unsupervised entertaining themselves in various physical ways one does in a
gym.  Back to business at hand, he assigned them to their respective units,
their team would be waiting to greet them in the mess hall

   * * *

   That night Anton sat in his comfy chair clad in only his robe watching
TV.  As usual, Damon, wearing only white briefs planted himself on Anton's
lap and lay back with his head against his father's chest.  Anton ran his
hand up and down the boy's satiny thigh, something he often did
subconsciously as a sign of affection.  However, that night a strange
compelling urge forced his hand upward, two fingers caressed the underside
of his son's developing testicles.

   Anton was hard, the boy's ass fidgeted over the hardness as if he knew
what he was doing would drive the man crazy.  Damon spread his legs wider,
a definite indication that he liked his father's touch to his privates. 
The nice sensation caused him to bone up.

   Anton was well aware of what was happening, the boy's tight underwear
tented and his marble-size nuts receded.  He nonchalantly ran a finger up
and down the underside of the three inch shaft encased in a yellow stained
thin white cotton.  "You want to sleep with papa tonight?" he asked,
knowing what the boy's response would surely be, but not sure why he made
the proposition.

   Anton tickled Damon as he carried the giggling boy over his shoulder to
his bed and tossed him on it.  His cock stood pointing upward when he
dropped the robe from his shoulders, Damon's eyes were glued to the manly
display.  Anton crawled under the bedding, encouraged Damon to do the same
holding the covers up until the boy crawled underneath.

   Anton cuddled his boy to his chest, his slimy erection easily found its
way between the vee of Damon's upper thighs.  He felt the small erection
pressed against his groin as he held the boy tight to his body.  He began a
slow dry fuck picking up the pace and excitement which led to rolling Damon
onto his back and swung his full weight on the boy as he pistoned into the
soft warm crevice calling out his dead wife's name.

   Damon felt his daddy's big cock rubbing along his balls.  He enjoyed his
father's tight hug; the man's hairy chest tickled his face and nose.  Even
when being suffocated by the man's large frame, he never complained.  He
found a pocket of air as he listened to the man's raging heart beat and
heavy breathing, as well as, the utterance of his mother's name several
times.

   As Anton came, he pulled out from between the warm confines of the boy's
sweet thighs and jerked-off over Damon's belly and genitals much to the
boy's intrigue.  His own intrigue was seeing Damon's erection for the first
time.  It was sleek and shiny, marble-size balls held tight in his scrotum
and tucked close to his groin.  Anton reckoned his son was on the verge of
early puberty as he neared his eleventh birthday.

   He couldn't resist stroking the boys cum covered cock as he explained
what they had just done.  No, it wasn't a form of jerking-off as Damon
first thought.  It was called fucking.  He and his dad had "fucked" each
other.  Until then, the definition of the dirty-word was meaningless and
the mention of it at school would get him in a heap of trouble.  However,
Anton assured him that between them, it was okay to say the word at home.

   Anton masturbated Damon with vigor for at least a half-hour until his
hand became too sore to continue.  The urge to taste his first cock was
stalled trying to get the boy off by hand.  There were a few moments of
orgasmic hope when Damon admitted to a tingly feeling throughout his body
and a need to pee.  Anton assured him that the sensation was bringing him
near a dry orgasm, but it never happened.  Damon was disappointed, but his
cock was red and tender by then.  Anton went down on his son finding he
rather enjoyed the taste and smell of boy.  Damon's foreskin was long even
when erect, Anton could pull it over the boys clan about an inch and flick
the tip of his tongue inside it.  Damon thought it tickled, but admitted it
felt nice.  That led to another sexual education when the boy questioned
why Anyone would want to that.

   Anton carried on sucking the boy-cock with vigor hoping for a last
minute orgasm and not knowing how close the kid was to his first orgasm
when he began fidgeting and saying he felt something in his groin.

   He looked up at Damon and said.  "Let it go, son.  Just relax and let
your body take over."

   Damon did exactly that and Anton was rewarded with a stream of piss. 
They laughed about that, Anton saying, "So close, yet so far!"

   He let his dad snuggle into him and they fell into a good night's sleep.

   To be continued...

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