The Community: The Routine

Silent Steps

The author says: "This is the tale of a secretive community where incest is the norm, treated as a healthy part of family life. Especially for the children. This is my pet fantasy, so I hope you like it."

LSR has been a fan of Silent Steps for some time and is pleased to bring his work to our audience.

Waking up a child for school can be very challenging for a parent. The best solution is usually the smell of something nice cooking like, say, bacon. Well, that's not the case for little seven year old Cody. That sleeping beauty only needed one thing to get him going - the smell of a hard cock.

Every morning, Roger would would go his son's perpetually messy room, tugging his own pajama pants down. His hard, thick-veined adult cock would bounce upright quickly at the sight of such an angelic, sleeping face and a tiny, preteen body. Those soft, pillowy little lips, that curly dark mop of hair. How could any man not desire his own little boy?

Cody's small nostrils would twitch as the hard-on nudged up beside him. Roger would gently guide it directly under the child's nose, pulling back his foreskin and letting the nook beneath the head release its musk in the air. Cody would sniff a few times, blinking his eyes open slowly, and then his little hand would come up. Five tiny fingers would wrap as far as they could go around the base.

There were never words. The little boy would simply take the cock into his mouth, the soft spongey head nuzzling against his tongue. He would slowly pull his face back and forth on it, massaging the fleshy object as best he could. Like all children, Cody loved his father's cock, most especially how it was uncut. He liked to roll back the skin further and lick where it had been trapping flavor and scents that he found so appetizing.

Soon, half of the adult cock would disappear into the child's mouth, poking at his small throat. He always sucked slowly, his tiny wet tongue pushing at the fattest veins. Roger would just lean a knee up on the pillow beside his precious child and cup his tiny head in a hand, lovingly stroking his boy throughout their morning suck. Sometimes, he would reach under the blanket and gently stroke Cody's erect boy cock. But it was DADDY'S orgasm which mostly concerned the child, not his own.

Indeed, the best part was daddy squirting his special milk. Cody was voracious when it came to sperm. Roger had noticed the quirk when the boy was just an infant - he would suck so hard when he was being nursed that Roger wouldn't be able to pull out until his prostate was practically inside out. Cody always swallowed every drop of sperm given to him. He could drain a poker table full of daddy and his buddies in one go.

When the time came, Roger would grunt to warn his son. Little Cody could pull back and just grip the head with his mouth. He didn't want it to shoot straight down his throat. It had to hit every tastebud on the way. He could easily deep throat if he wanted to, but in the mornings, he wanted to taste and breath cum, and his father was there to feed him breakfast.

Then it would come, that big, creamy load, some squirting across Cody's tonsils, some draping his tongue, and some still pooling in his downturned cheek. None would escape his sealed lips. First Cody would make sure there was not a drop left, sucking, tonguing the urethra, guaranteeing that daddy was all empty of that sticky, tasty juice. Then he would sit up, stretching his arms as he swished the load around in his mouth like a wash, and with a sweet, noisy -gulp-, his little adams apple would bob as he drank it right down.

Such was Roger's routine with his child. After that, he and Cody would go together to the kitchen for some more traditional breakfast while his wife got dressed for work. "Did daddy give you a big load today?" She'd often ask him, and he'd always nod enthusiastically as he ate his cereal.

Mommy would drive him to the school, while Roger would dress for his own job. And every day, as if part of this wonderful routine, he would smile into the mirror at himself and think, 'I sure am a lucky dad.'