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Subject: {ASSM} ST: "Making A Baby - 01" (m/b)
Date: Sun, 5 Mar 2000 22:10:02 -0500
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<1st attachment, "Making.txt" begin>
Caution/Welcome: This story involves the attempts of a forty-year-old man
to impregnate a sixyear-old boy. It is not recommended that anyone try
this, unless one day they find themselves in an ancient shop, talking to an
equally ancient and mysterious oriental. . . . For posting at adult gay
story sites only. This story is dedicated to Bobby who knows why.
Making A Baby - 01
If there was one thing Bobby hated more than shopping, it was shopping
with his wife. When a man went to buy something, say a shirt, he went to
the store, found it, and bought it. A woman, on the other hand, had to
visit six stores, try on a dozen different blouses, and buy a skirt and
scarf to go with it. Today was one of those days, and they were only on
their fourth store. He had two more to go yet. Bored out of his mind, he
told her he'd wait for her out on the street. Maybe if he was lucky some
cute kid would walk by and relieve him of his boredom.
Bobby had been married for fourteen years, and he loved his wife dearly,
but he had a fascination for young boys, really young boys. Now, he didn't
believe in anything rough, he didn't believe an adult should trick a young
gullible boy into something he could not comprehend, and he felt a person
should never use their position to coerce a boy to do one's bidding. It
would have to be totally consensual, with no force, coercion, bribery, or
trickery. To tell the truth, Bobby didn't think he could actually do
anything physical if the opportunity did arise. For him it was just a
fantasy, something to amuse his mind. Like, a lot of men daydreamed about
being an astronaut, but it didn't mean any of them were actually going to
quit their jobs and go become one.
The picture in the shop window interrupted his thoughts. It was a
picture of Bryce Beckham, the child star of an old television comedy called
Mister Belvedere.
Shit, he hadn't thought about him in years. Bobby stepped back and
looked at the shop. He couldn't see any sign or name to indicate what it
was. He'd been down this street hundreds of times and could not recall
ever seeing it before, but it would be easy to miss. The store front
couldn't be more than eighteen feet wide. It looked like it was being
squeezed out by the two stores on either side of it, Jefferson Jewellery
and Acme Office Supplies, and while the other two had bright, modern
facades, this store looked like it belonged in the sixteenth century with
its tiny windows and green wood exterior.
The inside of the store looked just as out of place as the outside. The
long narrow store was cluttered from floor to ceiling with the strangest
looking things. Bobby had been in plenty of second hand stores, but this
one beat them all. It had everything, and there seemed to be no particular
order to things. Expensive-looking whicker baskets were stacked beside
tacky plastic curtains, kid's toys next to ladies' underwear, stacks of
magazines beside a section of electrical sockets which were beside what
looked like a barrel of dried potatoes. Standing at six-foot-four, Bobby
was constantly ducking to avoid some article hanging from the ceiling, and
at twohundred-and-fifty pounds, he had difficulty manoeuvring down the
aisles without knocking something off the shelf.
"How many I serve you?"
Bobby jumped at the sound of the papery, ancient voice. It came from an
ancient man, with yellowed, papery skin and a long, wispy white beard. He
was dressed in a black shirt and trousers that looked like pajamas. He was
oriental, and he looked like he would crumble into dust the moment you
touched him.
"Ah, I was just looking, thanks."
"Nobody comes in here just to look," the old man replied.
His tone was more prophetic than accusatory and Bobby didn't know how to
respond.
"You have a need."
"Ah, yeah, I was wondering about the picture in the window, the picture
of Bryce Beckham."
"No, you are interested in a boy, but not that boy."
What the hell? This old coot needed a lesson in salesmanship. You
didn't contradict a customer like that. What the old man had said was more
worrisome than that he had said it however. Bobby studied him carefully.
There was no way the old man could know what he dreamed about, so how could
he know he was interested in boys? The old man shuffled toward the back of
the store and Bobby followed him. The ancient searched through the shelf
of bottles of every possible shape, size and colour.
"Ah, look," Bobby interrupted ten minutes later. "I just saw the
picture and was curious. I don't know what you think it is that I want, or
what you're looking for--"
"No. It is what you are looking for," the old man replied firmly,
continuing his search without even looking up.
Bobby did not know what was going on here, but diplomacy and clarity in
conversation were not the old man's strong suits. His manner was not going
to endear customers to shop at his store, whatever type of store this was.
"Ah, here we are," the man said at last, picking up a small vial hardly
bigger than a pill bottle.
"Look, I don't know what you think you've found--"
"You wish to have a child."
"Ah, no," Bobby said with a smile. "Before we married my wife and I
talked about that, and we agreed we were not interested in having a family.
She had her career--"
"No, not that child."
The burley truck driver stared at the old man. Did he mean the boy
child Bobby fantasized sharing his bed with, or did he mean the other
fantasy that he had . . . ? That was absurd. He had never shared either
fantasy with anyone, so both were impossible.
"Give him one a week. There are four."
"Give who?"
"You will know who is the right one," the ancient said as he turned and
began to hunt in the clutter again.
"The right one for what?"
"To fulfill your fantasy."
"Uh, huh, yeah," Bobby laughed nervously. This was freaky. "And just
what are these supposed to do?"
"They will make the impossible possible," the ancient said, pushing
aside a pile of boxes and squeezing beside them to check in the cupboard
behind them.
"I see," Bobby replied, giving up trying to understand the old man. He
was not sure he wanted to understand him anyway. The man's comments were
too close to his darkest secret.
"There is in all things the incompatible. Oil and water, good and evil,
the square peg and the round hole. Those will make the incompatible parts
whole, the two into one so there can be a third."
"Right," said Bobby, tongue in cheek. When the old man was not treading
close to his secret, he was babbling nonsense.
"All will become clear when you see the child."
"And when will that be?"
"You will know when it happens," the ancient said with a smile.
"Okay," said Bobby. The scene of Alice talking to the Mad Hatter came
to mind. Maybe this fellow had been handling too much mercury in his life,
or too much LSD as a young man.
"Ah, here it is!" the old man announced triumphantly as he bent over and
retrieved an object on the bottom shelf.
"What is that?" Bobby asked, not expecting an answer that made any sense
as he stared at the ochre coloured clay figure. It was fat and squat,
looking like a pregnant frog with an extra pair of legs and a grotesquely
large penis.
"The gargoyle of male fecundity."
"Which happens to be for sale."
"For loan. It is only good once, and then must be passed on to a new
owner."
"I see, and the rental cost is?"
"There is no cost, only your belief."
"Come again?"
"Believe, and it will come true. The coming of truth breeds belief.
Enter the cycle," he said, handing the figurine to Bobby.
He had to take it or it would have dropped, and then he would have had
to pay. It felt strangely warm in his hands, almost as if it was pulsing
with blood. The old man smiled.
"It knows your thoughts, your desires, your needs. It is responding
already to your yang."
"All right, how much money?"
"Four hundred dollars for the suppositories."
"Yeah, right, four hundred dollars," Bobby snorted.
"A small price to pay for a boy-wife."
"A--."
"The gargoyle will return when the child is conceived."
Bobby found himself paying the man. This was absurd, and impossible,
but the man also knew things he was not supposed to know, things that were
impossible for him to know.
"Each night you will think of the one whom you would like to bear your
child, and the gargoyle will find such an individual. You will know the
child has been conceived when the gargoyle leaves."
That night as he lay in bed beside his wife, Bobby thought about whom he
would like to have bear his child, preferably a son. Someone blond, young.
The penis head of the gargoyle seemed to glow a pale pink. Bobby
immediately stopped thinking. Turning his back to the figure, he tried to
concentrate on something else, but his mind kept coming back to blond,
young, someone like David Gallagher or Zac Hanson when they were, say six.
He rolled over and glanced at the gargoyle. The penis head was definitely
pink. He concentrated on his wife, and on the repairs he had to do to the
house, but his mind kept coming back to the same thing. He did not dare
look at the gargoyle. Bobby did not sleep that night.
The next day he kept a lookout for his wife to be. He did not see him.
Exhausted from lack of sleep, he went to bed early the next night.
Again his mind went straight to the same image of his fantasy boy-wife, and
again the penis head of the gargoyle turned pink. This was impossible.
Bobby tried to think of something else his job, his boss, the ancient
oriental, a cute six-year-old blond boy. He no sooner fell asleep than the
alarm rang for him to get up. The third night Bobby gave in and let his
mind run with the thoughts. It was not because he had any real hope that
the gargoyle would work, but because he had to get some sleep. Besides, it
was a pleasant dream to fall asleep to, and he fell asleep quickly. Had he
been awake, he would have seen the penis head of the gargoyle was blood
red, and he would have been unable to sleep for a week.
Of course, in the off chance the thing did work, the next day Bobby
swung by several playgrounds and school yards where such a boy might be,
but as to be expected, although he saw a lot of cute little boys, he did
not see the boy of his dreams.
The next night he and his wife entertained and by the time he hit the
bed he was exhausted. He had no more than five minutes of daydreaming of
his favourite boy before he fell asleep with a smile on his lips. The
gargoyle also smiled.
Bobby had a forty-eight-hour round-trip delivery to make the next day.
As he pulled the eighteen-wheeler out onto the highway, he watched for
child hitchhikers and stranded families with young children. He watched
for his blond cutie at the truck stops where he had his meals. He knew it
was silly, but it was a pleasant, harmless diversion. He returned home
Friday night.
Saturday afternoon the plunger in the toilet in the downstairs bathroom
broke. He drove down to the hardware to pick up a replacement. That was
where he saw him, in the hardware store, in the paint section. He was with
an adult, probably his father, and they were waiting while the store mixed
up the cans of paint they had purchased. Standing at forty-two inches tall
and weighing in at probably fifty pounds, he looked to be about six. He
was wearing baggy, faded blue jeans and a short-sleeved shirt with a Star
Wars logo on the back. His Nike runners were untied. While the adult
talked to the clerk, the boy stood by idly, his hand in his pocket. From
the movement of his hand, he was clearly playing pocket pool.
The boy looked up and their eyes met before Bobby could glance away. If
Bobby wasn't trapped before, he was the moment those big wide turquoise
eyes with long blond eyelashes met his. It was evident the boy knew he'd
been staring at him. He could not deny it. It was also evident he knew
what the boy had been doing, and the boy knew it. The boy smiled ever so
slightly and fiddled with this dick more forcefully, as if daring the man
to say or do something. Bobby did what the boy least expected an adult to
do, he smiled back. The boy grinned wider, showing a row of perfect pearly
teeth. Bobby winked. The boy walked over to him.
"Hi," the boy greeted.
"Hi."
"We're buying paint for my bedroom."
"I see. What colour is it going to be?"
"Black."
"Black?"
"Cool, huh?"
"Well, different."
"Yeah. I'm different."
"I can see that."
"Really?"
"Yes."
"Cool."
Bobby smiled, not sure what he should say next.
"I always do it when I'm bored."
"Do what?"
"Play with my pickle."
"I see."
"You do?" he asked, glancing between his legs, and then looking up at
Bobby with a mischievous grin.
Bobby grinned back, captivated by that smile. It was not the juvenile
humour that amused him, but the boy's attitude. He'd never known a boy
with such a cocky, confident attitude that came across cute rather than
offensive. "I sometimes do it when I'm bored too," he found himself
admitting, and it was true.
"Cool."
The two stood there staring at each other. Bobby was not sure what to
say next.
"Maybe some time you'll come by and see my room after it's painted."
"Sure, I'd like that."
"Cool."
The boy gave him his address and phone number and Bobby repeated it over
and over to be sure he did not forget it as he headed out the store. As
soon as he got to his car, he wrote it down. He was travelling on the road
that week, and there was not a waking moment that he did not picture the
boy and think about him, about the two of them, about his fantasy. Even in
his dreams he thought about it.
It was not until the following weekend that he had a chance to phone the
boy. As he dialled up the number his heart raced and his six-foot-four,
two-hundred and fifty pound body was tense with excitement. He felt like a
new boy on the block phoning a classmate and hoping he will be his friend.
This was crazy, a grown adult phoning a little child to see his room. Mind
you, it was even crazier what that adult wanted to do with that child.
Craziest of all, was what that adult fantasized would be the result of such
a union.
"Hello."
Bobby was relieved it was a young boy's voice. He would have felt
strange asking the boy's mother or father for him.
"Hi. This is the fellow you met at the hardware store."
"Hi."
"Is your bedroom finished?"
"Sure is. Wanna come see it?"
"Sure, but your parents might find it a little strange a total stranger
coming over to see your room."
"They aren't home right now."
"I'll be right over."
Bobby risked getting a speeding ticket heading over to the boy's home.
The kid greeted him at the door. He was wearing the usual boy things, blue
jeans, Disney T-shirt and ankle socks. He took Bobby straight to his room.
The walls were indeed painted black, as was the ceiling. Stars and
colourful planets and decals of fanciful spaceships brightened it up.
Assorted space models were hung from the ceiling, and some crude drawings
evidently of space creatures were stuck on the walls.
"So whatcha think?"
"Cool."
"Really?" he asked, beaming.
"Yeah, really. You draw those pictures?"
"Yeah," the boy said hesitantly.
"Neat. You're a good drawer."
"Thanks," the boy said beaming even more. Bobby wanted to lift him off
his feet and kiss those beautiful, tender lips.
"Now you gotta show me something."
"I do?"
"Sure, I showed you something, so now you gotta show me something."
"All right. What would you like to see?"
"Your cock."
Bobby snorted in shock and stared at him incredulously.
"I bet someone as big as you got a huge cock."
"Your father know you use words like that?"
"No. You gonna tell?"
"No," Bobby said with a grin.
"So you gonna show me?"
Bobby hesitated. Sure, in the fantasy that he'd had for years this was
one of the first steps, and he had thought of dozens of ways his fantasy
might begin. Since they'd met, the blondheaded cutie had been in a number
of those fantasies, but as for actually doing it, he never really thought
that would happen. Now that the opportunity was there, he was not sure he
really wanted to go through with it. He definitely knew this was not what
he should be doing.
Still, the look of anticipation in the boy's voice, and his
matter-of-fact attitude to it all was hard to resist. Besides, he was just
showing the boy. Had they been standing together at the urinals in the
mall washroom he would not have hesitated giving the child a look. Bobby
slowly pulled down his fly, and reaching inside, he guided his cock through
the openings of his boxers and jeans. The look on the boy's face the
moment he exposed himself chased away any doubts.
"Oh man yeah, that is sooo huge!" he said, admiring it openly. "Does
yours get bigger when you play with it?"
"Yes, it does."
"Let play with ourselves," the boy suggested, and without waiting for an
answer, he pulled down his fly and pushed down his jeans. He was wearing
tight blue jockey briefs. He pushed them down, revealing his cute little
pricklet, soft and pink and resting daintily above two tiny little
testicles barely larger than grapes. Sitting down on his bed, he
unabashedly took his little pricklet and began to shake it and tug on it.
It was no bigger than Bobby's littlest finger. Bobby's cock began to swell
just watching the boy. He slowly began to run his fingers up and down its
length.
"Take down your pants too and sit beside me," the boy offered.
This was going far beyond just showing the boy his cock. Bobby
hesitated and then unsnapping his jeans, he pushed them down, and then his
boxers. It was by the kid's invitation, and they were doing it to
themselves, not each other.
"Wow, you got more hair there than my dad."
"You've seen your dad?" Bobby asked in surprise.
"Sure, when we change at the pool."
"Of course. Have you ever done this with him?"
"No, silly," the boy giggled. "He gets all upset if I play with
myself."
"I see."
"When you seen me and didn't do nothing about it I knew you played with
yours too."
"You did?"
"If you didn't, you'd make a big fuss about it. Sometimes I do it on
purpose to see who do it and who don't. I wasn't that time though. I was
doing it then cuz I was bored, like I said."
"I see."
"Got mine hard." The boy stood up and his little dick stuck straight
out, the skin just barely pulled back from the tip. It couldn't be more
than an inch-and-a-half long.
"So have I," Bobby announced, standing up also. He had never gotten
stiff so fast, nor had it ever felt so hard.
"Oh wow, its sooooo huge! I knew a big man like you would have a big
one! How big is it?"
"I don't know for sure."
"Lets find out!" he said excitedly.
His pants and underwear still about his ankles, he shuffled over to his
desk, his little erection bobbing up and down as he shuffled. He quickly
returned with a ruler. Before Bobby could react--or maybe he didn't want
to react--the child had grabbed his dick and lined the ruler up along it.
"Oh, wow, eight inches! That's so cool!"
"Glad you like it," Bobby said, not knowing what else to say.
"Feels good, don't it," the boy said, making more of a comment than
asking a question as he flopped down on the bed and began fiddling with his
little erection.
"Yes it does. What do you think about when you play with it?" Bobby
asked as he sat beside the boy.
"Mostly how good it feels. What do you think 'bout?"
"A lot of things," Bobby replied. He thought for a moment and then
decided what the hell, why not say it. "Lately about fucking a young boy
like you."
"Fucking? You can't do that," the boy giggled. "I don't have a girl's
thing."
"You don't have to have a girl's thing."
"Then how can you do it?"
"Up your bum hole."
"Ha, you'd never get your great big one up my little bum hole," he
giggled.
"A bum can stretch a lot farther than most people think."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"Isn't it sort of yucky?" he asked, wrinkling up his nose. "I mean
sticking it where a guy's poop is?"
"No, it doesn't have to be."
"Wanna fuck me?"
"Yes. I'd like to have a baby with you."
The boy laughed again. It was a delightful laugh, and Bobby wished he
could hear him laugh all day. It wasn't loud, or vulgar, or shrill. It
was the natural laughter of a child, the pure bell tones of boyhood. He
told the boy his fantasy, and the strange meeting with the man in the
store. He even had brought the tablets with him. The boy thought for what
seemed a long time. As Bobby sat there in the little boy's room, the two
of them sitting there amidst the spaceship models and magazine pinups,
their pants and underwear about their ankles and their cocks jutting out
stiffly, he realized how absurd this was, and even how more absurd his
fantasy was.
"That would be cool. But I don't think my parents would like me having
a baby," the boy finally said.
"Yeah, I don't imagine they would," Bobby agreed. "Doesn't matter, what
we're talking about is impossible anyway."
"Don't you wanna try?"
"Sure," Bobby laughed. "I've thought about it for years, and it's all
I've thought about since I met you."
"Then let's do it. I think it would feel cool to have you up my bum.
And I think it would be cool to have a baby with a guy too. I'd rather
have a baby with a guy than with a dumb ol' girl."
"I think you'll change your mind about that as you get older."
"Uh-uh," the boy said, shaking his head, "I'm going to be gay all my
life."
Bobby stared at the boy in disbelief. "Where did you ever hear that
word?"
"All over the place. On T.V., in the newspapers, at school--"
"They teach you that at school?"
"No, silly," the boy said, giggling again. "At recess, when no teachers
are around."
"I see."
"And on the computer," he continued. "Everywhere."
"But you don't know what it means."
The boy giggled again, and Bobby wanted to hug him. "Of course I do,
I'm not dumb. It means guys who like guys, you know, who love each other
and want to kiss each other and that junk. Right?"
"Yes, that is right," Bobby said. Things certainly change, he thought.
He didn't know about that sort of thing until he was in junior high
school. Of course when he was a boy the word wasn't splashed all over the
place either like it was today.
"So let's fuck."
"Now? Here?"
"Sure. Why not?"
"No reason I guess."
"Cool."
Bobby could not believe he was actually doing this as he opened up the
jar. "I guess the first thing we have to do is give you one of these."
"They're sort of big to swallow."
"I think I'm supposed to slip it up your bum."
"Yeah?" the boy said, his eyes sparkling. "Cool." He jumped off the bed
and standing before Bobby, bent over.
The sight of the little, round, pink buttocks before him made Bobby's
cock jerk excitedly. The boy's butt was beautiful beyond anything he had
ever imagined. He reached out slowly, as if touching it would burst it,
like a soap bubble. It was so soft, so smooth. He could not ever remember
feeling anything so smooth. Bobby slowly pulled apart the ass cheeks and
revealed the little buttonhole. It was dainty and puckered, way too small
for a man's cock to penetrate, especially his cock. Even so, his cock
jerked even more vigorously with the thought, and a drop of precum oozed
from the tip. Taking the suppository, which was about the size of an
almond, he placed it at the boy's anus and gently began to push it in. The
boy opened up his sphincter and the tablet disappeared inside the boy.
The boy turned and faced Bobby. "Now what?"
"Now I guess we get naked and make a baby," Bobby said, pushing his
jeans and boxers the rest of the way off.
"Your cock is leaking pee."
"No, that's called precum. It's to help make the hole a man's going to
enter easier to enter."
"How's that?"
"It's sticky. It makes the hole slippery"
Bobby flicked the drop off with the tip of his index finger and applied
it to the boy's hole. The boy squirmed and giggled.
"You're going to have to leak a lot of precum for your big cock," he
observed seriously.
"That's why I brought this," Bobby said as he took out the tube of KY
from his pocket and opened it up. Squeezing a generous gob of the gel onto
his index finger, he told the boy to bend over. Spreading apart his ass
cheeks with his other hand, Bobby wiped the gob off on the pucker and
pushed it in with his fingertip, The boy squirmed.
"That feels funny," he said with a giggle.
Bobby took another gob and again smeared it on the little pink pucker.
However, this time, when he pushed it into the boy, he inserted his finger
to the first knuckle. When the boy did not object, he eased it in farther.
He soon had all three-and-a-half inches up the boy's hole.
"You sticking your cock up me?" the boy asked innocently.
"No, that is my finger."
"Cool. Why do you have to do that?"
"To grease you up inside, and help stretch your hole," Bobby explained.
As he withdrew his finger, the boy squirmed with delight. Bobby greased
up his thick fuckpole, hoping that the KY would make this possible. He
wanted desperately to fuck this young boy, but he did not want to cause him
any pain. The boy lay down on his stomach, and as Bobby got on the bed
above him, the bed creaked with the trucker's weight. The boy seemed so
small, so slim stretched out under his body. If he were to lower himself,
he would completely smother the young boy. His big cockhead found the
boy's little buttonhole and he pressed forward. The boy grunted and
strained to open up to him. He pressed harder and the boy grunted louder.
"If it hurts, let me know."
"Okay," the boy gasped.
He slowly felt his prick head stretching apart the boy's sphincter. He
went slowly, an eighth of an inch at a time. He felt resistance at first
and then the boy's flesh easing about his cock as he slowly entered his
body. Fuck, he was entering the boy! He was actually doing it. He
paused.
"How does it feel?"
"Sort of hurts, but not bad," the boy said honestly.
Bobby continued easing his cock in until he had about three inches still
sticking out, but he decided he had better not try to insert himself any
further. He had no idea how long the boy's rectum was, but he was sure he
was pushing the back of it with his cockhead.
He slowly began to work his massive cock in and out, being careful to
insert no more than five inches up the young boy's butt. The boy squirmed
and gasped as his body was rocked back and forth on his little bed by the
muscular trucker above him. As he was rocked back and forth his little
stiff dick was pushed up and down against the top sheet of his bed, a deep
blue cover with designs of the planets and stars. As the big man fucked
his ass, the little boy fucked Saturn.
The man's huge cock up his ass felt strange and created feelings in the
young boy that were too powerful to describe. All he knew was that it felt
great, like having a huge never-ending poop, and the more the man did it
the more his body itched for it, not just his bum hole but his whole body.
It was totally awesome, and he squirmed and panted with the unique
pleasure.
Bobby could not believe how great fucking the boy was. It was better
than any fantasy he ever had dreamed up. He fucked the boy as slowly and
gently as he could, the six-year-old's bed rocking as he thrust in and out
of the boy's hot little rectum. As he began to approach his climax he
could not help but speed up though, and the bed creaked under the strain
until he was afraid they were going to break it. Feeling the end coming,
Bobby closed his eyes and groaned in ecstasy.
The boy felt the man quiver and as he squeezed the boy so tightly he
could not breathe, the six-year-old knew something different was happening.
The man jerked forward, driving the boy along the bed. His hot, hairy
belly pressed against the small of the boy's back and his broad hairy chest
pressed against the back of the boy's head, driving his face into his bed.
The man was panting loudly and the boy could feel the man's cock throbbing
in his rectum. The man paused there for the longest time balanced on his
knees and elbows, and then finally eased his cock out. Rolling off the
boy, the big trucker sat on the bed beside him.
"That precum?" the boy asked, rolling over and looking at the huge thick
cock that had been up his ass, and the string of whitish fluid hanging from
the peehole.
"No, that's cum."
The boy looked at him quizzically.
"The stuff that makes babies."
"So, now I'm going to have a baby?" he asked innocently.
Bobby smiled. "Well, if you were a girl, and if it worked the first
time, it takes nine months for a baby to grow before it is born."
"Yeah? Darn, I don't know if I can wait that long!"
"Well, like I said, you have to be a girl. And sometimes it doesn't
work the first time. Sometimes a man and woman have to do it dozens of
times."
"Yeah? I'd like that."
"Really? You liked what we did?"
"Sure. Didn't you?"
"Yes, I did, a lot."
"Wanna do it again?"
"Huh," Bobby laughed. "Sorry, but it takes a little while to load up
again."
"How long?"
"Well, usually a while, but I am sort of excited. We can try again in
half an hour."
"Cool. Wanna watch some cartoons while we wait?"
"Sure," Bobby replied with a grin.
As they sat there on the bed, the two of them naked and watching Wily
Coyote getting flattened by the Road Runner and Captain Gadget and his
young friends saving the world, Bobby felt a desperate need to fuck this
cute little kid beside him pass over him.
It was more than just being horny. It was a desperate feeling, the
feeling a starving man must feel for food, or a man lost in the desert for
water. His entire body ached and itched with the desire to screw this
little blond cutie. His entire body felt like it was a cockhead being
stroked. The way the boy kept glancing over at him and wiggling, it was
evident the boy wanted it too.
They could only wait twenty minutes. Bobby once again lubricated the
boy's sphincter and the boy eagerly lubricated Bobby's throbbing cock. He
found it easier to penetrate the boy the second time, and as he began to
ease his cock in and out of his hot little asshole, he marvelled at how
great it felt. As he pumped his two-hundred-and-fifty pound frame back and
forth, the force of his motions actually rocked the bed. When he paused to
catch his breath, the boy impatiently pumped his body, sliding up and down
on his massive cock, working Bobby's fat tube in and out of his ass
himself.
Soon Bobby felt himself approaching his second climax and as he began to
speed up the bed creaked ominously. Never had sex with his wife felt as
good as this. Bobby could not explain it, but it was incredible. He
gasped with the immense joy of climax, and he heard the boy inhale sharply
too as he filled his butt with his seed once again. When they were
finished, they snuggled up to each other on the kid's bed. Laying there
with his little blond head against his broad, hairy chest, the kid felt so
small and innocent.
"I'd like to meet you again," Bobby said as he finally reached for his
underwear.
"Me too. Real soon. Tomorrow."
"We could go to the zoo."
"That would be cool. Can we fuck some more too?"
"Of course," Bobby said with a grin.
The next day they went to the zoo. It was fantastic seeing it with a
child, far different from going there with his wife. The boy was so
fascinated by everything, and ran from one place to the next with boundless
energy. He had boundless energy later that afternoon too as they found a
secluded spot in a nearby park and dropped their pants for some fun.
Doing it there in the bushes on the fresh green grass reminded Bobby of
his dating years and he felt like a teenager again. They did it twice
before Bobby took the boy home, and they agreed to meet after school the
next day and do it in that same spot again.
For the rest of the day and all the next Bobby could think of nothing
else. Fucking the kid was the best thing that he had ever experienced and
he could not get enough of it. He thought three-thirty would never arrive.
He picked the boy up and as they drove to the park the kid reached over and
pulled down Bobby's fly. Reaching inside, he stroked the fleshy tube
through his underwear and giggled as it grew firm and poked its way out of
his boxers.
"Do you think I'll have a big one like this when I'm as old as you?" he
asked, his big turquoise eyes wide with wonder and hope.
"I don't know," Bobby replied. "But no matter how big it is, it's still
fun to play with." He reached over with his right hand and groped the
little boy buckled up beside him. The kid had a hardon and the boy giggled
as Bobby's fingers fiddled with it.
Arriving at the park, they headed right for the bushes. Both were hard
and aching to get it on. Quickly removing his pants and underwear and
tossing them aside, the boy eagerly lay on the grass and spread apart his
ass cheeks. Bobby just as quickly and eagerly lubricated his cute little
fuckhole and his raging cock. For the fifth time in three days he filled
the boy's rectum with his hot slimy seed.
For the rest of the week Bobby was on the road, and he could think of
nothing else but the blond-headed loveboy and making a baby with him. He
knew that actually being able to conceive was impossible, but hey, two
weeks ago he would have said that him bumfucking a sweet sixyear-old boy
would have been impossible too.
Early Saturday morning he called the boy up and they went to the park to
play catch, and of course to fuck. A week had gone by and Bobby inserted
the second of the four suppositories up his little pink hole. It was
crazy, but it gave a justification for the forty-year-old man to be fucking
a six-year-old boy. They fucked first and then played catch, stopped to
fuck, played some more catch, and then fucked before going home. They did
the same Sunday.
That Monday it was raining when Bobby picked the boy up from school.
The parking lot at the park was empty so they did it there in the back
seat. The boy pulled down his pants and underwear and lay on the seat and
Bobby just pulled out his stiff cock and crawled on top of him. It was
awkward, but they managed to do it. Anyone passing by would only have seen
a big sixfoot-four tall man doing pushups in the back seat of his car. If
they listened closely, however, they would have heard a boyish giggle come
from beneath the man as he quivered with his orgasm.
Bobby was on the road again for two days and he ached every moment he
was away from the boy. When he got back Wednesday, it was midnight but he
was desperate. He drove straight to the boy's home and rattled his bedroom
window. The boy finally woke up, and still more asleep than awake, he
stumbled over to the window and opened it up. Fuck, he looked so cute with
his blond hair all tousled and his big turquoise eyes half lidded with
sleep. He was wearing cute little white pajamas with teddies on them.
Crawling out of the window and slipping into the back alley, he fiddled
with his pickle while Bobby found an old discarded tire and leaned it up
against the fence. The boy had missed the man as much as the man had
missed him. Standing up on the tire, the boy grasped a hold of the fence
while Bobby pulled down his little pajamas bottoms. Easing his lubricated
cock up the boy's eager hole, Bobby sighed with relief, and as he began to
work his cock in and out of the little pajamas-clad boy, the boy curled his
toes in delight. It felt fantastic as they rutted there in the back alley
like two alley cats, and made as much noise.
Saturday while his wife was shopping Bobby brought the boy home. He
showed the boy the gargoyle of male fecundity and the boy thought it was
the coolest thing he'd ever seen. He rubbed the statue's cock with his
index finger and it felt warm to his touch. Inserting the third capsule,
Bobby fucked him there in their bed in front of the statue. It was like
making an offering before a shrine. The two were too involved in what they
were doing to see the drop of moisture forming at the tip of the gargoyle's
grotesque cock. As they lay there afterward, Bobby's prick limp and sticky
and the boy's bum leaking his cum on the bed sheets, Bobby noticed the boy
stroking his stomach.
"You okay?"
"Yeah, sure, why?"
"You were rubbing your tummy."
"Oh."
"It okay?"
"Yeah."
"You don't feel anything or anything?"
"No. What do you think it would feel like, if there was a baby inside?"
"I don't know. After a while you would feel it moving inside you."
"Cool."
"And of course your tummy would get bigger. You haven't been gaining
any weight?"
"No."
Bobby felt the boy's stomach. It was so soft and smooth. He hadn't
intended on it, but rubbing the kid's flat little stomach and thinking of
them actually having a baby together got him so hot he could not help it.
He fucked the kid a second time. They had just finished when he heard the
car door slam. The two leaped out of bed and grabbing their clothes and
dressing on the run, they rushed out the back door as the front was
opening. The kid had not found his underwear. As soon as Bobby got back
from driving him home he looked for them. He found the little white undies
under his pillow. He decided he would slip them there each night and
remove them each morning. Had he been more observant, he would have seen
the gargoyle smile.
The boy had spring break that third week, and Bobby had some time off.
His wife went to pay some bills and he picked up the boy and fucked him in
their bed again, but this time they gave themselves plenty of time to
straighten up the bed afterward. While his wife was at work he brought the
boy home and fucked him in their living room, the boy standing and holding
onto the back of the sofa and Bobby kneeling on the sofa cushions so his
cock was the same height as the boy's bum. They fucked so hard they
shifted the sofa a foot closer to the television, something Bobby didn't
notice until his wife observed the change that evening.
On the third day, after getting fucked in the master bedroom, and then
on the stairs, the boy went to take a pee. When he came out Bobby was so
horny he fucked him right there in the hallway, holding the boy off the
ground with one arm and humping him so hard he banged him into the wall.
The boy thought it was wild and giggled all the while.
Bobby had a two-day haul to make and the boy arranged to be supposedly
sleeping over with a friend. He was going to actually, except it was not
the friend he had told his parents, and they were not planning on doing
much sleeping. They fucked in the truck's sleeper in the parking lot of
the interstate truck stop where they had lunch. During the long afternoon
drive the boy drew pictures of space monsters and they hung them along the
back of the cab. They booked into a hotel room and they fucked in the
shower, the big man pounding the boy up against the shower walls in his
lust as the warm water splashed over them. They watched some shows on the
Disney Channel and then fucked before going to sleep. Bobby woke the boy
up at three in the morning and they fucked again, pounding the hotel bed
against the wall in their lust. When they woke in the morning, they fucked
before having breakfast. On the way home they pulled the rig over twice to
have a go in the sleeper. It was a fantastic two day haul. By the time
they got back Bobby's nuts were so empty they felt hollow.
That weekend they inserted the fourth and last of the suppositories.
All they talked about when they were together now was having a baby. Every
spare moment they had was spent with Bobby's eight inch shaft buried up the
boy's little butt. He had not had sex with his wife for a month and hadn't
missed it one bit, but he could not go a day without being inside the boy
at least once. Thursday of that week he had an unscheduled haul to make,
which meant he wouldn't be picking the boy up after school, and wouldn't be
seeing him until Sunday. Bobby stopped in at the primary school at recess
to tell the kid he wouldn't be picking him up.
"I'm going to miss you," the little blond-headed boy said, looking up at
Bobby with his big turquoise eyes on the verge of tears.
"I'll miss you too kid," Bobby replied, feeling like crying himself.
"We'll make up for it when I get back."
"Can we play baby making before you leave?"
"I have to leave right away," Bobby said regretfully as the recess bell
rang.
The boy took his hand. "Please?" he said, looking up at the burly
trucker plaintively.
They slipped into the little boys' room. Sitting on the toilet with his
stiff, soaped shaft sticking up between his legs, Bobby held the boy by the
hips as he placed his hands on Bobby's thick, hairy legs and hoisted
himself up on Bobby's lap. Bobby guided him as the boy lowered himself,
easing his body down on the thick shaft that he had come to want just as
desperately as the man wanted his ass. The boy giggled and squirmed as he
felt the soaped flesh entering him, and then he bounced up and down in the
man's lap, sliding his butt up and down the hot shaft. Fortunately nobody
had to use the can while they were there. His bum filled with Bobby's
seed, the boy returned to class to continue practising printing the letter
"S" and Bobby headed for the road.
He called the kid up when he returned on Sunday but there was no answer.
He called repeatedly far into the night but there was nobody home. Worried
sick, he waited at the boy's school the next morning and was relieved to
see him getting out of his parent's car. He found out that the boy's
grandparents were visiting and they had gone out for the evening. His
grandparents were down until next Saturday. His grandpa would be picking
him up after school, and they would be doing things together all week, so
it was going to be impossible for them to meet. Bobby was disappointed,
but told the boy it was all right.
It was the longest week of his life, filled with mixed feelings. It
gave Bobby a chance to really think about what they had been doing.
"Playing baby making" as the boy had come to refer to their fuck sessions
had been really hot, and he had gotten so wrapped up in pretending they
were making a baby he'd actually begun to believe it. Now that the four
weeks were over, he was feeling guilty about fucking the boy. He
desperately wanted to continue, but he could not go on pretending they were
making a baby. That was not fair to the kid. As much as he didn't want
to, he considered bringing this to an end. He was forty and the kid six
for fucksake!
The boy's parents being out the following Saturday, Bobby went over to
his house.
"Guess what?" the boy said excitedly as he met him at the door.
"What?"
"I gained a pound!"
"Yeah?" Bobby looked at the boy but couldn't see any difference.
"Uhhuh, I been weighing every day. You think it's the baby?"
"I don't know," Bobby said honestly. He had been playing this game with
the boy for so long now even he was speaking like it would happen. Of
course he knew it could not, but still . . .
"If its starting to grow inside me, you think its still okay to fuck?"
"I don't know," Bobby repeated. "I suppose it wouldn't be a good idea."
He saw this as the perfect excuse to put a stop to what they had been
doing, and he regretfully decided to take it.
"We can still play with our pickles though?"
"Yeah, sure kid, we can still do that," Bobby replied. What the hell,
he'd wean himself off the boy. The two went to the boy's room and pulled
down their flies.
When he went home, he looked for the gargoyle. It was nowhere to be
found. He even asked his wife, who claimed she had no idea where it had
disappeared to, but he could tell from the tone in her voice she was glad
it was gone. The following Saturday the boy claimed to have gained another
pound, and the Saturday after that another one. By the end of two months,
Bobby had to admit the kid was putting on weight, and all of it seemed to
be around the stomach.
"Look how tight my underwear is." The boy pulled down his jogging pants
and revealed his white jockey briefs. They were tight, but then they were
always tight. "I'm sure it's a baby."
"Well," said Bobby, not wanting to disappoint the boy, "I guess we will
see. We still have another seven months to go."
"Yeah, darn," the boy said with a disappointed frown.
They did not. By the end of June they had a problem. The boy's little
belly was definitely swollen and even his parents had noticed. They were
afraid he might have a tumour and were thinking of arranging for a doctor's
appointment. Bobby was certain all the fucking they had been doing had
somehow hurt the boy. Some of it had gotten really wild, and who knows
what sort of damage his hard cock could have done inside the tender little
boy. Of course he wanted the boy to find out and get medical attention,
but if the cause was being fucked up the ass, he was going to have a huge
problem. The boy wanted to know what was happening too, but his worry was
that if it was a baby, he did not want his parents to know.
Bobby thought of the ancient who had sold him the suppositories. He did
not know what he would say, or what help he could possibly give, but he
decided to go downtown to the store. To his surprise, it was not there.
Acme Office Supplies butted up against Jefferson Jewellery. The owners of
both stores claimed this is how it had always been, for years.
There was never a store between them.
With the arrival of summer holidays, Bobby devised a plan that would at
least buy them some time so he could sort this all out. He found a
two-week summer camp that took six-yearolds, and the boy convinced his
parents to let him go. They were hesitant, not just because of the unusual
swelling of his belly, but because he was their baby. However, it was only
for two weeks, and it was impossible not to give in to those big pleading
eyes. Bobby picked him up, pretending to be the camp counsellor and to be
picking up other boys in the neighbourhood, and they went to Bobby's summer
cottage. Bobby immediately began contacting buddies he had met on the road
in search of someone who knew a doctor who could be discrete.
The boy's belly got bigger each day, and although he said he felt all
right, Bobby began to worry. He had a voracious appetite, eating as much
as the two-hundred-and-fifty-pound trucker himself. Toward the end of the
second week, the boy claimed he felt the baby move inside him. Putting his
hand on the boy's extended stomach, which by now was the size of a
watermelon, Bobby could feel a movement. Whether it was his intestines or
something else he could not say, but there was something moving inside the
kid.
It proved to be much more difficult to find a discrete doctor than
television shows would let you believe. The boy phoned his parents and
told them he'd had so much fun, he wanted to stay for the next two-week
session. He assured them that his belly had not grown more and that he was
quite all right. The truth was the boy had gained twelve pounds and his
stomach was so huge he waddled when he walked. He looked like those
malnourished children with distended stomachs that you saw in charity ads.
Bobby was frantic and worrying himself sick.
He took time off from work so he could be with the boy and so he could
devote every hour searching for a doctor they could trust. Fortunately his
wife was dealing with a major project at work at the moment and did not
notice his worried look, or question why he was spending so much time alone
at the summer cottage. Another week went by.
After a breakfast of a dozen pancakes, three fried eggs, two thick slabs
of ham, a dill pickle, and a can of Pepsi, the boy waddled over to the bed
and lay there watching cartoons as was his habit every morning. Bobby
joined him and the two lay there playing with each other's pickles while
Wily Coyote got flattened for the millionth time by the Road Runner. The
boy suddenly sat bolt upright with stomach cramps.
"It really hurts, Bobby," the boy said, looking at him plaintively.
Bobby ran his hands over the boy's swollen belly. It was hard and taut,
feeling more like a watermelon than a little boy's belly. He could feel
movement inside, and he hoped it was just gas pains from the breakfast, but
he knew that was wishful thinking.
Laying on his back and raising his knees, the boy grunted and strained
like a constipated old man. He reached down and grabbed his pickle and
tugged on it in desperation, and the spasms in his little dick caused his
butthole to open and close. He felt the thing in his belly move downward
and the pain seemed to be less. He yanked harder and was sure he could
feel something moving into his rectum.
"I think its going to happen!" he said excitedly, looking into Bobby's
eyes.
As Bobby knelt between his legs, the boy threw his feet in the air and
draped his legs over Bobby's shoulders. Bobby quickly stuffed the pillows
under the boy's raised butt.
"Play with my pickle," the boy begged as he grabbed the bed sheets and
clenched his eyes shut with the effort. Not knowing what else to do, Bobby
reached over and tugged on the little boy's pickle as the boy grunted and
strained. Bobby saw the boy's little pucker opening and closing
desperately and wished there was some way he could help stretch it wider.
He suddenly realized there was.
He placed the head of his still stiff cock against the boy's winking
hole. The boy immediately pushed down on it, driving Bobby's cock into his
rectum. Continuing to wank on the little boy's one-and-a-half inch cock,
Bobby began to rock on the bed, working the top two inches of his thick
eight inches in and out of the rapidly constricting and dilating rectum.
The boy panted deeply, his face contorted in a combination of pain and
ecstasy.
"Wank me harder!"
Bobby did and the boy frantically jerked up and down on Bobby's cock.
"Harder!"
Bobby's fist was a blur as he pumped on the hard, hot little pricklet,
totally encompassed by three of his meaty fingers. He rocked back and
forth as rapidly as he could, pumping his cock in and out of the boy's
asshole in short two-inch long drives. With the excitement and after an
absence of so many weeks, it was barely a minute before he felt his climax
approaching.
"Oh fuck!" he cried as his cum gushed out of his throbbing cock and into
the boy's rectum.
"Yes!" screamed the boy as his own dry orgasm hit, causing his body to
jerk uncontrollably.
Pulling off of Bobby's cock, the boy trembled and gasped as his
sphincter constricted and dilated and he felt something even thicker than
Bobby's cock push at it from the inside and cause it to expand even
further. "Fuck!" he cried out as he felt it pushing past his asshole
muscle. He constricted his stomach muscles and pushed as hard as he could,
as if he was shitting out the biggest turd of his life. It seemed to be
stuck. "Darn!" he gasped, clenching his eyes and grunting as he pushed
again with all his strength.
"Yes!" called out Bobby, "it's coming. Keep pushing! I think
something's coming!"
It was a baby! Bobby reached down between the boy's legs, the boy's
ankles still hooked over his shoulders, and guided the baby as it slid
through his slippery cum, the head, the shoulders, the little chest. The
boy grunted and strained as he forced it out through his distended
sphincter. He sighed with relief as he felt it easing out faster until
finally it was gone and his asshole closed. The two gasped and panted
loudly, the boy laying on his back with his legs still draped over the big
trucker's shoulders, and the big trucker holding in his hands a slimy, red,
howling twelve-pound two-ounce baby covered in shit and cum.
Whipping a pillow case off one of the pillows, he wiped the little pink
bundle of joy off and handed it to the boy. He smiled down at the little
baby.
"It's a boy!" he beamed. "He's got such a cute little pickle!"
He reached down and fiddled with the little pricklet no more than half
an inch long. The baby immediately stopped crying and giggled. The man
and boy laughed and the boy fiddled with the little pickle all the more.
Bobby crawled up beside the two and the boy snuggled up in the curvature of
his big body, feeling secure and happy beside the big man.
As the boy's soft, sweaty body pressed up against Bobby's hairy chest
and stomach, he had never felt so contented in his life. He reached over
and stroked the little baby's soft, silky bottom while the boy continued to
tug on his now stiff little pickle. Running his forefinger up along the
baby's butt crack, he found the little hole and caressed it with his
fingertip. The baby cooed and pushed down against the finger, causing
Bobby and the boy to laugh.
"How old do you think he has to be before we can fuck him?" the boy
asked, looking up at Bobby. Bobby smiled back. He had been wondering the
same thing himself.
Wrote by J.O. Dickingson authorsix@hotmail.com for posting at adult gay
story sites only. Should there be a part two to this story? How might it
continue?
<1st attachment end>
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