Chapter 1

The dark figure had journeyed long into the night. Tired and weary, the rider slumped forwards against the back of the horse. Every jolt of the hooves sent fresh shards of pain through his body as his horse galloped silently amongst the soft snowy landscape of rural Japan. Though tired beyond all reason, the warrior carried on riding late into the night. He had to make good time; he was a man on a mission.

Hours later, he reared in the black stallion to the side of the makeshift path. Smoke flared from the beast's nostrils as both human and horse steamed in the cold night air. The man swathed in warm clothes jumped effortlessly off the saddle, patting the mane of the panting horse to calm it. Soundlessly, the warrior untied the saddle on its back, flinging it far into the bare bushes and undergrowth. "Go now", he whispered while bowing to the beast in gratitude. "You are free now. Be well...." The horse hesitated only awhile before galloping into the darkness. For a moment the man stared out into the black horizon until the hoof-beats could be heard no more.

Heaving a sigh that seemed to bow his shoulders down, the man continued on foot toward his destination. He sludged off through the thick set snow, each step an ordeal as he fought against the elements. The wind tore at his robes, threatening to blow it off his heavily-muscled frame. It slowed him down, but he tightened his jaw and braved on. It was harder on foot, but it was necessary. His foe tonight was a sharp one. The gallop and noise of a horse would have alerted him to their presence. A rider on this cold and dismal night in the isolated countryside would arouse suspicions.

This he knew he could not afford. Surprise was his edge, the one factor he was counting on to even out the odds to give him a margin of hope to best this formidable opponent. Gritting his teeth, he tried to stop their chattering as his body shivered uncontrollably. Gathering his warm cloak closer to his body, he traversed the snowy landscape guided by the pale light of the full moon. Keeping to the shadows that it cast on the white ground, he soon spotted a small flickering light from an abode. Its cheery light brought with it the promise of warmth, of heated sake and comradeship - things that he wished for desperately now to take him away from the bitter reality of the cold.

Silently, he sneaked amongst the bare brushes making sure he didn't step on the branches littered around the compound. He inched closer to the light, a quiet predator, scouting the premises for any sign of imminent danger. Clasping the long katana by his side, he sought reassurance from its cold hard presence. The samurai stopped about 30 paces away from the humble abode, his dark eyes hidden amongst the fur and helmet scanned the terrain and found a suitable place to watch for his quarry. There, a small thicket of leafless shrubs, tangled and dark enough to shield his bulk yet offer enough light to see and cover from the howling wind. Lying low amongst it, he settled in for the hunt while the storm raged unabated around him.

Chapter 2

It was the silent prelude to another day, the sleepy twilight hours before the dawn broke and the sun burst into its fiery throne amongst the heavens. It was a time when in any other town, the men would wake slowly and whispered in hush voices while preparing for a new day. The light from the small bamboo house had been put out long ago. Still, the figure waited patiently, biding his time, listening to an instinct that had kept him alive these many years of battle. He felt his heart beat loudly in his chest, as if it was a bird trying to escape from the prison of his chest. Lack of sleep made him worry that his opponent might actually hear the beat, so loud it seemed to him.

Shaking his head, he cleared the clouds away. He couldn't afford to lose concentration, his life depended on it, and his family depended on it. In the distance he heard a wolf howl, a tribute to the upcoming battle it seemed as if to know about. He took it as his sign; it was time to move in for the kill. Gathering his sword and his wits about him, he approached with muffled steps on the soft snow, a hand on his blade's scabbard while the other grasped the hilt tantalizingly. The smell of dying embers reached his keen nostrils as he slowly drew the bamboo door to the side ever so carefully.

Just as silently, his left arm erupted in searing pain as a flash of liquid steel reflected the dawn's light, its blade tearing the door into pieces. Cursing vehemently, the shocked warrior jumped backwards with surprising agility watching as his attacker rendered the rest of the door into shreds. Shouting a hideous cry of battle, he drew his own blade with lightning reflexes just managing to parry a massive blow that would have cut him in half. What followed was a volley of powerful attacks and slashes, the spark of metal against metal resounding loudly in the silence of dawn.

Both figures attacked and parried in multiple strikes, exchanging blows too fast to the naked eye. He was losing! He felt the sting of many wounds on his arms as his opponent proved faster, more efficient at the way of the katana than he was. His own strikes were getting more sluggish, what was once quicksilver running through his veins now replaced by a dull throb. And yet, it seemed his rival's attacks were filled with a certain sadness, lacking the bloodlust inherent in such violent encounters.

The sides of his chest hurt as each gasp of breath brought agony to his overworked lungs. They'd been fighting for almost an hour now, the sun well into the sky beating down relentlessly on them. Bright red painted the virgin snow as his lifeblood spilled unchecked onto the white canvas. His strength ebbed with each parry, each telling blow as the other's blade sliced into his skin with excruciating pain. He was young, far too young. His opponent had the weight of experience on his side, the katana weaving winds of death as it sliced with a keening sound through the air. Gasping hard, he fell onto one knee, supporting his weight with one hand and holding his katana in defiance with the other. He prepared for the end, the humiliation of defeat far more bitter than the promise of death.

He felt his vision dimming, a red mist enveloping his eyes as his opponent approached warily. His katana slipped from his grasp, unable to wield it any longer. The other man crept near, both hands on his blade ready to deliver the final deathblow. He bowed his head, almost hearing the blade rising in the air, hear it slicing down with astonishing speed. Sparks exploded as the falling blade met with resistance but not from cutting through flesh and bone. It had worked! His feint was successful. With his final strength he had gripped his own katana and stopped the blow, the blades interlocked. His opponent's eyes widened in surprise and then pain.

With both the katanas inches above his own head, our figure felt warm liquid flow down his left arm from the dagger he'd kept hidden among his clothes, now buried in his opponent's belly. The other man gasped in pain from the lethal blow, staggering before falling backwards flopping into the snow. Struggling, rose to his feet, victorious. But there was no glory in it. It had been an unfair fight, he should have lost, should have been the one dying now on the snow. But his family came before pride. The man he had bested laid dying at his feet, the lined wrinkles on his face and the silver streaks of white in his hair betraying his age.

Trudging and leaning down by his side, panted as he pulled out a brown parchment from his cloak, leaning heavily on his katana's bloodstained blade. " , former commander of the 5th brigade of the imperial army to his Majesty the Emperor. You are hereby wanted for treason against the Emperor, for refusing to attend your summons and thus to serve your country, as is your duty and responsibility. Furthermore, you are accused of collaborating with the enemy. The punishment that I, Watanabe, as the new commander shall carry out with immediate effect is death through beheading."

Kintaro stopped to catch his breath, meeting the eyes of his former friend at arms, almost unable to look into them directly through a sudden surge of tears. Many battles they had fought, side by side, one blade defending the other's life as they survived back to back. It was a bitter fate indeed that it should end here like this. had been young. He had stayed with the Emperor. , getting on with his years had left quietly and tried to retire amongst the mountains as peace settled once more upon the once feudal Japan, now having an Emperor to unite the clans, an Emperor that both of them had helped ascend the throne.

Lately, there had been upheavals in the land as foreigners had invaded. With their gemstone eyes and flaming hair, they had conquered many lands before demanding that Japan open its waters for trade and commerce. The Emperor had answered (unwisely some have said) with war. had not come when the summons arrived. The emissaries who were sent to his home left with wounds and scars. News that he had aided the enemy and shared his roof with them further incensed the young Emperor.

Kintaro was sent for an audience with his Majesty, being told upon arrival that he was to go and execute as an example to others, a warning to prevent future collaborators with the new enemy. He had refused of course, the mere thought of raising his katana against his former mentor who was like a father to him during the trying bitter civil wars unthinkable. Outraged by his reluctance, the Emperor helped the Watanabe family in thrall, blackmailing him. For his Majesty knew that there were none that rivaled the old man's skills with the sword other than his one and only apprentice Watanabe.

Thinking about this, he began weeping openly now, collapsing to his knees in front of his once powerful mentor, the tears washing the blood from his face as his katana fell to his side. "I am so sorry ! My mentor, my brother, my father," he could not go on the words choking in his throat at the sight of the dying aged old man. A withered hand reached out to grasp his own young one, the gesture understanding and gentle.

"Do not weep young one. It is not befitting for a samurai," the man spoke in soft but firm tones. "You have done your duty to your Emperor, nothing more, nothing less. I bear you no vengeance or ill will." Sighing, the man used his last ounce of strength to retrieve his fallen katana and press it into hands.

"Promise me this old friend, take care of my little son Toki. This is all I ask of you. Let him bear a glory that I have let fall in my dishonor," he gasped weakly.

Kintaro merely nodded, holding those once strong familiar hands that were growing weaker with each heart beat. "Promise me!" gasped, blood flecking his lips.

"I promise, old friend," gripped those withered hands, wishing he could hold onto the life that was flowing away from beneath him.

"Then finish it. Farewell, young . Remember your promise", the old man sighed as his hands fell to the ground. Steeling his heart as best he can, stood and with one swift merciful motion beheaded him, the blade of the katana singing a silvery final tribute.

Chapter 3

The grave he had dug for the man was simple, a fitting resting place for the equally simple and honorable man had been. He held the man's legendary katana bearing the crest of the Chrysanthemum close to his chest, as if he could feel his master's spirit in it still. The sun's pale rays fell onto the scene, parting the dews of yesterday and caressed the land with its pure glow as if cleansing it of the carnage just moments before. Gathering himself to his feet, bowed one final time before making his was to the house clutching his bandaged wounds.

The inside was cool and dark. It was a sparsely furnished, with scrolls hanging on the walls telling tales of wisdom, mats scattered conveniently around. Closing the battered door as best he could, he stumbled into the bathroom and tended to his wounds, wrapping fresh bandages onto them as he winced in pain. Suddenly, he heard a sound coming from one of the other rooms, the sound of a door sliding open. Jumping to his feet in one fluid motion, drew his katana and opened the bathroom door warily.

Standing there in the slits of sunlight that filtered through a window was a young boy. A golden miasma surrounded the small child who was sleepily rubbing his eyes squinting cutely in the sunlight. He was a tiny boy, barely reaching waist. The child was shivering slightly in the morning cold, barely dressed as he was. "Papa?" he asked in a small timid voice as he squinted at , backing away as he noticed the drawn blade of the dark silhouette. "Hey, hey, little boy, don't be afraid," said in as soft a manner as he could while lowering the blade to the floor and showing his hands to show he meant no harm.

He crouched low to the child's eye-level as he inched closer to the little boy. "Your papa had to go somewhere to do something important. And he asked me to look after you okay? I'm , his brother......I m....mean your Uncle," he smiled drawing his cloak against his body to hide his many wounds. "I have an Uncle? Really?" the child's tone was a little skeptical as he tentatively stepped closer to the large warrior who dwarfed him in all respects.

The boy got closer and finally stepped into a patch of sunlight near and he had a good look at the child. He gasped. The child was flawless, the little pale face was pretty like a girl's, the features delicate and petite, reminding him of the lovely white cherry blossom Sakura, especially the plump dimpled cheeks that were now flushed a faint pink from the cold. His tiny body was well fleshed, the arms soft looking and feminine, white from playing indoors in the cold winter. The boy was clad only in thin cotton robes; the material soft and velvety and almost see-through as the light shone through it, giving tantalizing glimpses of the nubile young body underneath.

The little plump thighs were exposed mid-way as it made way to a pair of lovely calves ending in lovely ankles that tapered into the smallest tiniest perfect little feet complete with the cutest toes he had ever seen. Coughing uncomfortably, embarrassed at being caught off guard, tore his eyes away and answered gruffly. "Yes, yes, I am your Uncle. Are all little boys so full of questions? Your papa should have taught you better," he finished before gesturing for the child to come closer. Little Toki giggled before warily inching on those lovely bare feet towards the crouching warrior, still squinting into the sunlight.

As the tiny boy came out of the patch of light and into the dark coolness surrounding him, couldn't help but suppress another gasp as the child blinked to adjust his little eyes. The lad's large doe-like eyes had the irises of the brightest blue, as lovely as the sky on a flawless summer's day. He stared into them for awhile, lost in their innocence and youth as the child blushed a little uncomfortably at being regarded so closely. Regaining his senses quickly, the tall man couldn't shake the feeling of having been lost in those baby eyes, like a fevered man finally having found his oasis.

For long moments, neither spoke a word as they sized each other up. Then little Toki broke the tension by smiling shyly before hugging the huge man warmly in a childish manner, his arms barely reaching around. Taken back by this unexpected show of affection, slowly felt his defenses lower a bit as he lowered his own large arms and enveloped the frail child embracing the boy closely. He couldn't draw a breath as he felt the young body press against him. Raging battles he had fought with fearlessness and ease, taking wounds without so much as a flinch. But here in this small rural bamboo hut, his defenses were torn asunder by the loving embrace of such an innocent baby, and he burst into tears.

Chapter 4

And that had been how they had met for the very first time, Watanabe the samurai and little Toki , son of the legendary swordsman. had later found out from the young child that he was a baby still, having only seen 2 springs before that fateful winter's day. He had found the old man's diary in one of the drawers in his room containing the memoirs of the events that had transpired in his fateful life. Three winters ago, a foreign woman with hair of gold and eyes of blue had appeared at doorstep, wounded and incoherent from loss of blood. Adamant to help at first, the kind old man finally relented, having no family of his own for company. He had opened his doors, against his neighbor’s advice, helping the young woman and nursing her back to health.

The old man found out that the young lady's family had been ambushed in the woods to the north by brigands as they were traveling to the imperial city. Aghast, he found out that these were part of the foreigners who were invading the land. He'd withdrawn then, unable to speak to the lady. But the weaves of fate decided otherwise. Isolated in the small house during those cold nights, the young woman began picking up his words and worked her way into his heart. Time brought the two closer and closer as a strong bond blossomed between them, transcending the barriers of language and culture.

The gruff old man had then opened his heart, something he thought would be impossible after the death of his wife many, many years ago. Soon after, the woman was with child and the man was beside himself with joy. At last his dreams of a happy little family were being realized and he thanked the heavens for their gift to him perhaps for his years of thankless service to his nation. It was short-lived unfortunately. The birth had been a difficult one and in such a rural area, the midwife had simply lacked the expertise to deal with the weakening mother.

Shortly after giving birth to a frail baby son, the mother laid weakly in arms sharing a few precious moments together before slipping into a coma from loss of blood. She never woke from it again. Cursing fate for taking another loved one away from him, the poor man was nearly driven insane from grief. The midwife had knowingly left him to grieve for a time while she took care of raising little Toki while taking him to his father once in awhile to try to bring him back to reality. Thankfully, the lovely child's infectious laughter brought him back from the depths of insanity and happiness bloomed in the house once more.

Being his only link and reminder of his beloved, the old man had showered all his love onto the little boy and the frail little baby soon grew into a healthy toddler. For awhile they had lived in peace and contentment. But life proved brought one more obstacle to the aged man. Hearing the outbreak of yet another war, was unprepared to leave his infant son behind. Before, he'd had nothing to lose except his life. To lose a mother at such a young age, he couldn't bear see his little boy being fatherless as well. In his age he knew he could never survive another battle.

Toshin pleaded with the Emperor to leave him alone but dared not disclose that he had a son for fear of being caught. However, an emissary soon arrived demanding his presence at the palace. Desperate, he had managed to "convince" them to leave with his skills of the sword. But this was not before they had learnt of his wife and son. The rest had been history. Disgusted, hurled the diary away with a cry before burying his face into his hands in anguish.

Chapter 5

Now it was spring again and life for the warrior and the little boy had grown into a kind of serene routine. There was a kind of mutual respect between the tiny child and the man. Afraid of his growing attraction to the beautiful child, had remained aloof, concentrating instead on polishing his skills of swordsmanship. The boy however, never having seen his "Uncle" before accepted the fact that the large man didn't want to be disturbed during his training, though his tiny little heart craved the affection that was missing from his own missing father.

Often, the child would sit at the door to the house, his little bare legs dangling above the floor as he watched practice his sword strokes. would grit his teeth in annoyance, trying hard to keep his mind on his blade but more often than not found his eyes straying to those tiny little perfect legs, to those cute petite baby feet and the inviting darkness nestling between those soft pale thighs, hidden by the too short robes of the boy. His view would caress the lovely torso of the delicate toddler who was like fine china so fragile looking was he as if all the innocent beauty of the world was etched into that baby face. It would linger on his black silky hair with the aroma of a young boy down to his lovely blue eyes that almost always seemed to be regarding him so intensely and curiously.

He'd blink and blush before coughing uncomfortably before attacking the air around him again with gusto. Spring made way for summer and the nights were soon filled with the noisy chirps of thousands of crickets. As the heat crept in, found to his utter horror that the child was finding excuses to wear less and less around the house. It soon became a daily game for them. During the warm golden evenings, little Toki would run around the fields as naked as the day he was born two short years ago. He would catch sitting near the window and staring at his young little form and he'd streak past and wiggle his cute little penis at him, making the young warrior blush and stammer before retreating into the house.

Cute little Toki found this highly amusing that he could manage to have this effect on the large men more than twice his size. The child couldn't help but idolize the young warrior, handsome and in the prime of his youth as he trained daily with deadly skill swinging the katana deftly in the breeze. The young boy would sometimes grab a stick and mimic the man's moves, earning a rare laugh from his Uncle and having his lovely silky hair ruffled affectionately before being told to go play.

That was as far as their relationship went. The samurai was unused to any other display of emotion, not knowing that such a young boy craved the paternal love and closeness of a mother. Many nights he would have to soothe the little toddler who insisted on sleeping together with him just like he did with his father. He was afraid that he might not be able to control his desires which he managed to keep so well hidden (or so he thought) in the daytime. So he would instead tell the boy stories of his heroic adventures until the pretty boy lulled off into a contented sleep.

He would then kiss the lovely forehead of the sleeping boy and return to his barren, empty room and dream of the baby softness he had just felt on his hands, stroking himself with the same hands until he released his spirit all over the sleeping mat. He'd then collapse with frustration and guilt. Outwardly strong and gruff, the young samurai actually had a sensitive heart that craved to express a love denied him. But why did it have to be a boy? He would ponder and worry into the night, cursing himself for his weakness.

Often, he'd wake up in the nights drenched in sweat, erotic dreams of him playing naked with the little boy teasing him again and again. He would then relieve himself again before crying himself back to sleep. The warm winds of summer soon made way for the golden leaves of autumn as the land around was enveloped in a pleasing hue of purple, blue and faded pink, mirrored beautifully on a crystal clear lake framed by the imposing white mountains. It was beautiful, just like the growing love between the two.

One by one, defenses were torn down by the lovely child's bright sunny nature. His musical laughter was like wine to him, intoxicating and sweet. The softness of his skin, the shy timid smiles he'd give the man coupled with those sparkling blue eyes filled him with wonder and a joy for life that he had never imagined possible, not after all the bloodshed he had seen all those long years of war. It gave him hope that there was good and love in the world. It was a bond that would never break.

Chapter 6

Then something happened that changed both their lives forever. It was a cold, cold night, heralding the end of golden autumn and the beginning of the blanket of cold winter. The snow that fell that night was powdery and soft. They had played in the snow that day, the strong samurai looking incongruous as he rolled about playfully in the snow wrestling with his little toddler nephew. By evening, they were exhausted and were sitting on the porch of their modest little house sipping gratefully on hot green tea. They had laughed as they blew the steam from their mouths pretending to be like the dragons in the boy's fairytales.

 That very same night, they were bathing together as usual in their steamy little bathroom, steadfastly glaring at a wall and trying to ignore the little naked toddler bathing just behind him in the bamboo tub. He was scrubbing furiously while he heard (with a hard cock) little Toki splashing about playfully in the water trying to ignore vivid images of that tiny soft cock bobbing about in the warm water. Suddenly, the splashing stopped and he heard the little toddler stood up from the tub the water leaving his body in small drips and rivulets down his hairless baby body.

" ?" the little boy spoke softly to the man's bare back as the man stopped scrubbing, his heart pounding madly now.

"Y.........yes, little Toki?" stammered noticing the slight change in the boy's normally innocent tone.

"Do you not love me ? Have I been a naughty boy?" he heard the boy ask sadly. There was a slight splash as the child left the bath tub and the man could literally feel the water wet and shiny on the warm tiny body.

"........yes......I.....I mean no you haven't been naughty! I love you a lot, I'm your Uncle aren't I?" he managed to blurt unconvincingly.

There were small patters as the child's tiny bare feet made their way towards the man. "Then why do you always look away when I'm ? Am I ugly? And you never hug me like Papa used to!" the poor boy said in petulant tones as he approached the nervous man closer and closer. dared not look as the child made his way in front of him slowly. Looking down, all he saw were ten perfect little toes with the pinkest nails he had ever seen as the boy stood there waiting for his answer.

"Be.......because samurais don't do those kind of things, okay?" the words tumbled out of his dry mouth before he was cut off abruptly.

"But I don't want a samurai. I want you to love me like Papa used to, !" the child wailed before hugging his chest with his lovely young naked toddler body. The man melted in those arms. Hugging the child back closely, he suddenly realized their wet naked skins rubbing against each other softly while his cock made a quick lurch and throbbed wildly. Gasping for breath, he pushed the child away hurriedly.

"W.....what?" the 3-year-old mouthed, standing unsteadily totally naked in front of the staring man. The lovely black hair was damp and clung to his baby forehead, those loveable blue eyes wide and innocent staring back at him questioningly. Those perfectly dimpled cheeks were flushed a gentle pretty pink from the hot steam. The soft, pouty cherry lips of the child were impossibly red and puffy looking, even more so when framed delicately by his milky white skin that literally glowed in the lamp's warm light.

He'd never seen the boy totally naked up close before and it took his breath away. That pretty face gave way to a smooth, lovely, kissable neck. His eyes wandered down to the small rounded shoulders with the tiny supple arms that were on either side of a lovely plump baby chest that rose and fell rhythmically with the child's soft breathing. On that beautiful chest were two pert nipples that were so cute and so tiny. Down his gaze went, as the chest gave way to a slightly rounded baby tummy that was laden with baby fat that was only punctuated by a deep, sexy little navel in its middle.

That adorable tummy soon tapered invitingly into a lovely little "V" as the smooth hairless crotch came into view. It was close, oh so close to him now, that innocent boy genitals, the things he had been lusting for these endless days and nights. How many times had he longed to touch it, to inspect those tiny jewels closer. And now there it was, shyly nestled amongst the folds of the softest looking thighs. The baby's plump penis was so perfect in every little way just as he imagined it, the tiny shaft capped with a tiny mushroom head topped with a delicate flower of foreskin. The damp moisture had only caused a trickle of water to gather at the tip of that little skin, finally dripping from the young cock in even drops right onto right foot.

Beneath that lovely shaft were small, robin's-egg balls, covered with dimpled scrotums, completing the boy's minute genitals. His breath came in short gasps as he drank in the sight, not daring to even blink should this lovely Japanese angel should vanish from his sight, so surreal was it. As he continued to stare at the little boy, the silence grew gradually more uncomfortable. Little Toki actually got a little self-conscious of his own nakedness and blushed. This actually made the innocent toddler even more desirable to the man.

Grasping his thoughts to form something coherent, finally managed to squeak "Nothing, it's just.......just that you're so.....pretty and (cute)," offered a smile hoping it would calm the shy child as he brushed a wisp of stray hair from those lovely eyes. Little Toki just giggled and smiled cutely pleased with the rare praise from his idol. "?" he asked innocently while rubbing his feet on the back of his other leg nervously.

"Yes, really my lovely baby nephew," hands moved of its own accord and stroked the little cheeks before moving down to caress the tiny smooth shoulders and chest. There was silence again as the man's coarse hands explored the naked little body in front of him, wandering to those pert nipples and pinching them gently till they pointed out, aroused from the sensation.

Kintaro was lost in the depths of the boy's deep blue eyes as the child gasped, never having been touched so sensitively before. His hands had a life of themselves as they caressed and molded the soft skin lower, rubbing and massaging the wet steam into the little tummy before exploring the warm moist darkness of the cute navel. Baby Toki's chest started to rise and fall faster as his breathing increased, the tiny naked body responding to the man's obviously sexual caressing.

The child's eyes closed, surrendering his immature little body to the mercy of the man before him as the hands moved even further down, tracing the sides of the hairless crotch before grasping his prize, the tiny penis between thumb and forefinger. As if he held the most beautiful pearl in the world, fingers moved with deceiving gentleness as it stroked and coaxed that tiny baby flesh into life. Slowly he pumped the toddler's tiny foreskin up and down in unison with his beating heart. The pink cock head could now be seen peeking cheekily at him as the tight foreskin opened up like a flower from the fluid masturbating motion.

Water now dripped off the pink head of the tiny penis as the skin was pulled completely back. The lovely offering was so lovely that almost cried as he fondled and made love to the tiny organ making it pulse and throb to his tune. Baby Toki mewled like a kitten in utter pleasure as wave after wave of sensuality assaulted his young tender body the tendrils of desire weaving themselves far too early onto the young boy. Another hand cupped those tiny ball sacks and began rolling the little undeveloped eggs gently in their protective sac.

Kintaro sighed as his fingers explored the boy's sex organs, pleasuring the toddler in ways that he had never imagined in his wildest dreams. Before long, Toki's own hands grasped his, joining the masturbating motion on the tiny penis as the baby boy started to gyrate his plump little hips excitedly. The more he was fondled, the heavier he breathed, the higher his baby-pitched moans, the more frantically teased that pulsating baby love organ. This grew and grew as the young child started to feel the lust enter his once-innocent body. Suddenly without warning, those pretty eyes flared open wide staring at own brown ones as the tiny little penis began throbbing uncontrollably.

The man saw the lovely small piss slit opening and closing desperately as it tried to expel baby-cum from those tiny balls in vain, the toddler being far too young to have produced any at his tender age. Hurriedly, without waiting anymore, he lowered his head and engulfed the orgasming boy's baby-cock whole into his mouth balls and all. Toki shook and shivered as his first boyish orgasm tore through his young naked wet body. His little toes and fingers curled in complete pleasure while the baby gasped when the man had captured his youth between his lips and began milking his infant shaft hungrily.

Wave after wave of erotic bliss overwhelmed the boy as the man sucked leeching what the boy had to offer dry. Frantically, the man held both smooth butt cheeks and drew the orgasming toddler deeper into his mouth, unwilling to surrender his little prize. He hung onto the lovely little love tool, drawing orgasm after multiple orgasm from the squealing child. Once, twice, three times the delicate boy shuddered as he tried to impregnate the man's mouth with his boy-seed, mewling out loud each time in a rising crescendo. Four, five, six more enveloped him mercilessly as drew the squirming body up, the large hands easily encircling the tiny waist almost twice over as he sucked away with lust.

The man could feel the small boy's tiny finger curl and tangle in his hair as the boy gave unselfishly of his love, those tiny feet kicking in newfound pleasure. drank and drank of the boy's innocence, drinking in the joy while the orgasm slowly unwillingly subsided, leaving the spent naked body of the infant snuggling close to him, content in his warm strong arms. Little Toki had fallen asleep in utter exhaustion, smiling happily lost in his baby dreams.

Kintaro released the still hard boyhood from his mouth licking it delicately before planting passionate kisses on the sleeping boy, lovingly drying him before tucking the boy into bed. For hours, he stayed beside the pretty sleeping form of the perfect boy, watching him sleep so innocently, marveling at the unspoiled beauty. He replayed the scene over and over again, wanting the moment to last forever. Sleep overtook him soon and he fell asleep beside Toki, the boy that he had come to love with all his heart and soul...........

End Part 1

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Like it? Well let me know if you do so I can continue writing part 2 (or not) :) All criticisms are welcome to increase the quality of my work. Fire away!