Daemon Way

Teacher

Chapter Seventy-Two

Concluding chapter XVI

Rivulets of sweat poured along the folds of their flesh, the two plump women perspiring profusely from physical exertion and sexual arousal. They had been making love to each other now for close to an hour, beginning with gentle caressing and kisses, going from lips to cheeks, to breasts, buttocks, and lastly thighs. They were at the moment lying on their sides facing each other but in opposite directions, their heads opposite each other's breasts, a position the teenage lover and father of the children of one of them had suggested from a porno magazine he'd read that allowed each partner to concentrate fully on the bosom of the other. Of the many versions of foreplay they knew, largely through the knowledge of their young boy lovers, what they most enjoyed was breast play, and they'd found that caressing and kissing another woman's breasts was even more arousing than having their own played with, and engaging in breast play with another woman even more erotic than having their breasts caressed and sucked by their young boy lovers.

Although they were in their early forties, their breasts were full and firm with large, sensitive nipples, especially those of the older and plumper of the two who was nursing two-week-old twins. The other woman, only a year younger and at two hundred and fifteen pounds [98 kg] fifteen pounds [7 kg] lighter, was surprised her hostess was still having children, and that they were by her boy lover. The two women had spent the first part of the evening praising the physical attributes and sexual prowess of their teenage lovers and the merits of having fourteen-year-old boys as sexual partners. It had begun actually with the older woman giving a pep talk to the younger one who had been having self-doubts and feelings of guilt about her feelings and her clandestine romps with her young lover, especially with all the recent court cases and righteous uproar about older women seducing young boys. The condemnation was particularly vocal when the relationship was between an educator and a pupil and it was invariably accompanied by the immediate accusation that the teacher had used her position of authority to take advantage of the young student. As the older woman pointed out, considering the high level of secrecy regarding such relationships, the frequency with which such occurrences were being reported had to mean such situations were actually quite common, and if it was so popular, then the social outrage and the antiquated laws prohibiting such relationships were greatly out of sync with modern times.

That discussion had lead to a discussion on how they had a double whammy. Women of their proportions were also discriminated against because of their size. Not only did they have to suffer the jibes and jokes by both men and women about their weight, but men openly ogled slim young women with lust while not even trying to hide their revulsion when it came to women like themselves. The younger woman's teenage lover also being on the pudgy side, she observed that the same applied to males, and that the young were more often than not even more cruel to someone who is on the heavy side, and that it saddened her that things would not improve as her lover got older. The older woman had put her arm about the younger to comfort her and with the two of them being so in tune with each other and fully identifying with the feelings of the other, one thing had simply lead to another.

The two women wiggled down further now, kissing and caressing until they were head to crotch. Although their young lovers took great delight in playing with their breasts and were skilled at it, it took a woman to fully appreciate another woman's breasts and understand what it felt like to have them played with, and it was even truer when it came to a woman's most private organ despite again the skill and the openness of their lovers when it came to playing with their pussies. They gently caressed the outer lips of each other's already aroused cunt with first an index finger and then with it and the middle finger, at the same time nibbling on each other's fleshy thighs. As their outer cunt lips became even more swollen, they parted slightly and the two women slipped their fingers between the parted folds gently and slowly to caress the moist inner folds beneath. Bowing their heads, they nibbled at each other's turgid genital lips and kissed them. Sticking out their tongues, they ran them over the firm outer labia, and wiggling them between those outer folds, they ran their tongues along the moist, tender inner folds, delighting in the exquisite fragrance and taste of each other's fleshy feminine flower.

Although their teenage lovers performed oral sex on them on occasion, and again did so skilfully and willingly, something the older woman's husband and the younger widow's late husband did not do, only another woman can really do it justice just as only another woman can fully appreciate the feeling of another. Pressing their lips firmly against each other's swollen cunt lips, they forced their tongues inside, deep kissing each other's hot, slimy hole and allowing each other's thick cunt juices to flow over their tongues and into their mouths. They sought out each other's clit and caressed it with their hot, slimy tongues, sending shocks of pleasure through their swollen, throbbing labia and up their vaginas causing them to quiver with delight and causing more cunt juice to fill their vaginas and flow into each other's mouth. Filled with lust, they grasped each other's broad, full buttocks tightly as they lapped and sucked on each other's cunt, their lust consuming them and each knowing the desire and the pleasure the other was feeling which enhanced their own.

Their clits now fully extended, they pressed their lips against the hard, swollen flesh and sucked on it and caressed it with their tongues causing their bodies to thrash with arousal. Their laboured, hot breaths blew against each other's blood-engorged labia adding to the heat of their slime-filled cunts and causing them to sweat even more profusely. They twisted and bounced on the bed, and with a combined weight of four hundred and forty-five pounds, the mattress springs squeaked and the wooden frame creaked but it was a bed that had been especially ordered to withstand the sexual gymnastics of the hostess and her young lover. Their large breasts heaved as they gasped for breath, the two obese women sounding like a pair of bellows at a smithy's forge. The fire that had been stoked between their legs was hot enough to melt steel. They arched their backs as they reached their orgasms, the shocks and pleasure so powerful and sharp it was impossible to tell if it was pleasure or pain that was ripping through their swollen labia and up their pulsating, juice-filled vaginas.

"This is so fucking hot," Ben observed, his own breathing laboured and his eyes glued to the images of the two sweating, squirming women on the television screen.

"Yeah," agreed his best friend as he reached down and squeezed his erection, his eyes also on the monitor as he watched his widowed teacher and the mother of his four children squirming with their orgasms.

"Does Mrs Gilles know that you have a cam in the master bedroom?"

"No," Cory replied with a grin, "nor that there are hidden cams in the other rooms in the house. I don't think Antoinette is quite ready for that yet, but soon. She's comfortable now talking about sex with other women as you can see, and expressing her love for me physically in front of her husband and children and closest friends."

"I'm really glad you suggested I bring Mrs Pakorny over to talk to her. As you heard her say, she's really been depressed lately with all the negative comments in the papers and on the TV about teachers having sex with their students and everything."

Cory smiled. "It sounds funny you calling her Mrs Pakorny," he observed, "considering you've been screwing her, what, two or three times a week for the past couple months?"

"Yeah, we've been doing it at least that many times," Ben replied with a shy smile. "I just don't have any opportunity to talk to anyone about her, and if I did people would look at me rather strange if I referred to her as Anna, or get suspicious about us, and I wouldn't want to see her get into trouble for what we're doing. Besides," he added with a shrug, "she's your teacher."

"For another month anyway," Cory said with a grin.

"Yeah, me too," Ben said dejectedly. "I'm gonna miss not seeing her every day at school." With their grade nine graduation, he and Cory would be leaving Lincoln Junior High and entering William Cleaver High School in the fall.

"Yeah, well, absence makes the hard grow harder," Cory joked, making a grab at Ben's protruding erection.

Ben of course had stripped upon arriving at the Wilson-Dean Estate as was the habit of close friends of the family. He had done so not just because of the family's practice of nudism nor because he himself enjoyed the openness and freedom of walking around buck naked, but rather to encourage his teacher, Anna Pakorny, to strip also as a first step in getting her to feel comfortable about her obesity, and as a first step in preparing her for the frank discussion about sex with Antoinette Gilles that Cory had planned for her.

Ben looked at his closest friend, his soft brown eyes filled with admiration. He had been hesitant about bringing Anna over to the Gilles's, and doubtful that anything would come of it, but Cory had been right, again. Seeing Antoinette walking around nude and comfortable with her nakedness and with her own weight, and seeing how relaxed and accepting her family and house staff were about her own nudity and appearance had been uplifting for the obese teacher. She could not hide her smile nor her joy when their butler, Gamal, a darkly handsome young man, had glanced at her with the type of look most men reserve for women half her age and half her weight. Ben had thought Cory had put him up to that and thought it a nice touch, but Cory had assured him that the look was genuine, saying Gamal liked mature women with as Gamal put it 'some meat on their bones.' Dinner had been elaborate and scrumptious and the servings huge, which everyone had come to expect from Antoinette, and the subsequent after dinner conversation between Antoinette and Anna about having boy lovers, and about the positives of being 'women of substance' had been reassuring and comforting to the depressed widowed school teacher. Once again Ben owed Cory a great debt.

"So, what is this big discovery you said you made?"

"Oh, yeah! Seeing Mrs-Anna," he corrected with a smile, "so happy I forgot." He got up and got his backpack, his slender erection leading the way to Cory's amusement. Taking out several dozen sheets of paper, he shuffled through them and showed one to Cory.

Cory studied it for a few seconds. "Oh yeah, great squiggles," he said impishly as he glanced at Ben out of the corner of his eye.

"That's not squiggles, that's Phoenician."

"Oh, pardon me," Cory said teasingly, "great Phoenician." He looked up at Ben. "I don't know how to tell you this dude, but I think all that wanking and fucking you've been doing has fried your brain."

"Don't you see?" Ben asked with a hint of impatience.

"No."

"And here, ladies and gentlemen, is living proof that wanking will make you blind," he observed with a grin as he gestured at Cory. For shy, timid Ben who was accurately described as a quiet little mouse by his classmates, that was a bold and uncharacteristic comment, but with Cory he felt comfortable and dared to joke. "Look at how the lines are. It's just like your headband."

"It is?" Cory asked. Retrieving his headband from the dresser where he'd laid it after supper, he looked at it, and again at the squiggles. "Seriously, you really got to cut back on the wanking," he observed as he raised an eyebrow.

"Look at the edges of what we thought were leaves," Ben instructed with a hint of exasperation. "Don't look at the flat surfaces, look at the indentations between them. It's like that optical illusion Mister Bone showed us in art, the one where if you look at the sides you see two faces looking at each other, but if you look in the middle you see a vase. You gotta look at the edges."

Cory concentrated. "Oh yeah! They do sortta look alike."

"Not just sortta," Ben said, his voice now definitely reflecting his exasperation. "Look here," he indicated, tracing the outline of the leaves on the headband with his forefinger and then pointing to the jagged lines on the paper. "They're identical."

"So, you're saying this is Phoenician writing?" Cory asked, studying his headband.

"Yeah! That part I just showed you says El, The Teacher of Gods. And the next part says El, The Teacher of Men."

"When did you learn to read Phoenician?"

"I can't. I found this site on the Internet that compares Phoenician to Hebrew."

"Hebrew."

"Yeah. Hebrew comes from the Phoenician. Hebrew was the language they spoke in Palestine and Syria, where Jesus was born and lived."

"They didn't speak English?"

"Of course not," Ben replied, rolling his eyes.

"So how do you know Hebrew?"

"I don't, but I found this professor on Facebook who does. His specialty is studying ancient scrolls and monuments and translating the Phoenician into Hebrew. I sent him the copy I made of the grooves on your headband and he confirmed my guess that it was actually Phoenician writing."

"And this part says El the Teacher of Gods, and this El the Teacher of Men."

"Yeah!"

"Who the 'el is El?" Cory asked with an impish grin.

"He's like the greatest god of them all. He was the original supreme god, before the Christians or the Jews thought of it, before ancient Greece and even ancient Egypt. The Canaanites called him the Father of All Gods."

"Who were the Canaanites?"

"They lived back around 3500 B.C. They and the Phoenicians were once one people, but they divided into two groups, and the Canaanites eventually were conquered by the Israelites, which is where some people think they got the idea of one god."

"Yeah? Dude, I know you like history and all, but I didn't know you liked it this much. We haven't taken any of this at school."

"Yeah, well, I've sortta gotten more interested lately," Ben said, glancing at his history teacher now cuddling and recovering from her sixty-nine with Antoinette Gilles on the bed. Cory could understand Ben's increased motivation. He'd gotten a lot more interested in art and culture and that sort of junk as a result of Antoinette. "Besides, I told you I'd do some looking up on the Internet to see if I could help you find out anything about your headband. And Peter helped me with some of the stuff about the different ancient cultures and how they were related."

"Peter?"

"Yeah. He's mostly interested in medieval times and knights and stuff but when I told him I was trying to find some information on the time of the Phoenicians for you he was really eager to help. I didn't tell him it had to do with your headband," Ben added quickly. "He said you've done a lot of things for him and he wanted to help. A lot of guys feel that way about you," Ben added, looking over at Cory with admiration once again, proud to be one of Cory's best friends.

"That was nice of him." He'd have to do something special for Peter, maybe treat him and Dwayne to a supper and night in the Moroccan theme room in the Mission Inn, or a night out at Medieval Times in Anaheim. They'd like that.

"El is mentioned in the Bible something like two hundred times. That's what this professor guy said," Ben continued excitedly, riffling through the papers he'd brought. "Here, here's an example," he said, showing Cory one of the dozens of pages of notes he'd made and Email messages he'd exchanged in pursuit of his quest to find out all he could about Cory's headband. "Psalm 89:6. For who in the skies compares to Yahweh, who can be likened to Yahweh among the sons of gods?" he read. "Like I said El was called the Father of Gods, and the Hebrew for sons of gods is bene'Elim, so you see, there's El mentioned."

Cory smiled. Ben sometimes got carried away in his search for knowledge. Well, more than just sometimes. He'd considered asking Ben if he'd like to become a teacher at the Fane of Universal Communion, or maybe their archivist, and as he listened to Ben now, he thought about it again. Prefect of the Congregation for Devine Canon, responsible for researching, writing and documenting the beliefs of the Fane of Universal Communion, would be perfect. He was a wiz when it came to research and to using a computer. It would be perfect.

"You see Yahweh is the English pronunciation of the name of God," Ben continued, eager to share everything he'd learned, a personality trait that other geeks loved but that tended to turn off his other classmates which along with his shyness had greatly limited his number of friends. "It comes from the word YHWH. And Jehovah is the English pronunciation from the word JHVH. Both words are interpretations of the Tetragrammaton, the four Hebrew letters for the name of God, these," he said, rifling through his stack of notes and showing Cory a page on which he had written יהוה. "See how similar it is to the Aramic and the Phoenician," Ben continued, pointing to the other two sets of four symbols he'd written, "and how the Phoenician word is exactly like the grooves on the front part of your headband?" They did look alike. "Some people think God is El and others think he was one of the sons of El," Ben continued without waiting for an answer. "Actually not much is known about El other than he wore a bull's horns which I read were a symbol of strength, steadfastness and fertility, and that he had two wives, and seventy sons."

"Seventy? Fuck, that's one pile of kids! Course I already got four and Antoinette and I are working on number five, and I'm just screwing one woman and besides I've just started. Who knows, maybe some day I'll have seventy sons too just like good ol' El," Cory said with a smile.

"That's it! That's what I was thinking!" Ben shouted excitedly. "That El's just like you that is. Or you're just like him rather. You and El are the same."

"Well, just cuz we both like making babies I wouldn't go so far as to say that makes us the same," Cory grinned.

"It's more than that. You're strong and steadfast too besides fertile, just like him."

"And though I don't wear bull's horns I'm hung like one," Cory joked, wagging his stiff cock.

"Seriously. There's lots of things the same. What started me thinking about the similarities between you and him was this description of El I found." Ben searched through his stack of paper again and finding what he was looking for, he read from his notes, "he is the god who mourns for our pain and rejoices in our happiness." He beamed up at Cory. "That's just like you. You were mad at Molly and Ashley and Trang for the way they treated me. You mourned for my pain, and then you fixed them good for their behaviour. You showed them what it was like to be humiliated and embarrassed and demeaned like they'd made me and others feel. That made me happy and you were happy that I was happy. You see? You rejoiced in my happiness. There's lots of other times you've helped guys like that and rejoiced with them too, like the time you got all the guys Molly and Trang had teased and put down together at Callie Dean's to watch them having sex with each other and to have sex with them. Guys still talk about that."

Ben was right. At that very moment, thanks to Cory, Jerome Eisenstein's younger brother Eugene was over at Eli's Place and about to lose his virginity to Molly Vickers. Known by his grade seven classmates as Eugene the Elephant, having inherited the Eisenstein ears and nose, constantly teased and bullied and having no chance of making out with the girls given his looks and shy personality, Eugene was in bad need of a morale booster. Seeing the torment the twelve-year-old was going through every lunch hour, Cory could not just sit by idly. Like Ben had observed, he felt the pain of others, those who were bullied or put down or teased over things that were no fault of their own. He always had, even before he'd discovered how to use his great-grandfather's headband. With the discovery of the headband, he now had a way he could help them. In Eugene's case, recalling how happy Jerome had been the day he'd gotten his revenge against Molly for the way she'd treated him, Cory knew the perfect solution.

As Jerome sat there in the lobby of Eli's Place with his younger brother that Sunday evening, he recalled the excitement and apprehension the day he and the others had visited their first whore house, in their case Cassie Dean's. He also recalled the reward that had awaited them and the memory caused a stirring in his jeans. He was, after all, a healthy fourteen-year-old boy, a man actually, having had his bar mitzvah nine months ago. The idea of his brother losing his virginity to the same girl as he'd lost his to was wickedly erotic. Leave it up to Cory Wilson to think of such an idea and to have arranged for it to happen, and to have arranged for him to watch by way of a hidden cam besides. And neither of them was going to have to pay. The evening was completely free, Cory's treat. He was going to owe Cory big time for this.

His thoughts were interrupted as Molly Vickers entered the room and approached them. A month away from her fifteenth birthday, if her blouse was cut any lower, her boobs would have fallen out, and her short skirt not only showed off her awesome legs but was so tight you could practically see the crack of her ass. The sight of Eugene's eyes practically popping out was priceless, but even more priceless was the look of total embarrassment and humiliation on Molly's face as she stepped up to Eugene while trying her best not to notice Jerome.

"Ah, hi," Eugene said awkwardly, glancing over at his older brother as he stood up. He had no idea what a guy was supposed to say to a girl he was about to screw. That it was the same girl that his brother had screwed for his first time, and was still screwing whenever he wanted made it even more awkward, and even hotter.

"Hi," Molly replied, forcing a smile. She had 'entertained' thousands of men and probably a hundred of her school mates since that night at Callie Dean's and now approaching her fifteenth birthday was one of the more popular girls at Eli's Place, but no matter how many times she did this, she found the initial meeting awkward and embarrassing, and especially if it was someone she knew. In this case she didn't really know Eugene, he being a junior in grade seven and she being a senior in grade nine, but she knew of his reputation as being even more of a geek than his brother, who to her mortification was sitting there beside him. "My room is upstairs," she said, unable to look at either brother. Eugene's legs were wobbling so badly he wasn't sure he was going to manage to walk across the room never mind the stairs as he followed her.

They had no sooner disappeared up the stairs then Eli Dean entered and motioned for Jerome to follow him. As he got to his feet, he eyed the large, bald, pot-bellied, black man nervously, knowing that Eli's Place also provided services to boys who liked men and vice versa and hoping that the man knew he was there to observe Molly's humiliation and not to have sex. He was totally, completely heterosexual, and even if he wasn't, there was no way he'd have sex with a man that ugly. Eli smiled as he saw the look of apprehension in the fourteen-year-old's eyes. He loved that look of dread and uncertainty and innocence and his cock twitched with anticipation and arousal as he lead the young boy to his own private room. Cory being a good friend of Billy's and being a good source of both clients and employees for his establishment, Eli had been more than willing to provide Molly's services free of charge and to arrange for Eugene's older brother to watch the action. Besides, Jerome had another virginity to loose and knowing what the boy's reaction would be watching his kid brother losing his, he was just the man to see to the boy's needs. Getting the boy a soda and pouring himself a beer, he flicked on the monitor and sat down beside the boy on the large leather sofa.

Taking a deep breath, Molly unbuttoned the few remaining buttons on her blouse and slid it off. She of course was not wearing a bra, and as she saw the appreciation in Eugene's eyes she thought back to when she and Trang used to flash their young, developing boobs at their classmates and at their teachers, back to happier times. That was less than two years ago, but it seemed like another lifetime. Sitting down on the bed, she reached over and unbuttoned Eugene's shirt, revealing his bony chest. He was so skinny you could count his ribs. How many times had she imagined doing this on her wedding night with Nick Dawson or any one of a dozen other handsome young classmates, or in her fantasies with any number of hunky teenage singers or actors? She and Nick were no longer seeing each other and just the thought of him brought back memories of seeing him and Ben Hanson making out and turned her stomach with revulsion. It had been bad enough him choosing a guy to make out with, but why had it had to have been with that loser? Ironically, losers were the only type of guys she was now putting out for. Fantasies of falling in love and marrying a famous teen celebrity were of another lifetime, though on evenings like this where she was being forced to have sex with some teenage geek or some skanky old man old enough to be her father, she closed her eyes and pretended the person straddling her and penetrating her was one of those handsome young men instead.

Unbuckling Eugene's belt and unbuttoning the top of his jeans and pulling down his fly, she was not surprised by the bulge in his jockey briefs. All boys seemed to be in a constant state of arousal which had to be why they were constantly thinking of sex. How they could do anything with their things constantly sticking out like that she could not imagine and she was glad she was a girl. That thought sent a quiver of arousal up her vagina as the happy moments she and Trang shared came to mind. She and Trang made love. With boys it was just sex. As she pulled down Eugene's underwear and his thing sprang up, she was not surprised by its size either. Ears and noses were not the only big things that the Eisenstein males were noted for.

Removing her panties, she lay down beside Eugene and rubbed herself against him, closing her eyes and imagining rubbing up against Trang. Both were necessary to get her aroused so she could be penetrated without pain, and was especially necessary considering Eugene's size. Eugene responded by gyrating against her, rubbing his large, aching organ against her body, rubbing his smooth, bony chest against her gorgeous boobs and rubbing his hands over her smooth bottom. They kissed and caressed, Molly mechanically and from months of having sex with guys she either didn't know or whom she cared nothing for, Eugene out of instinct and from what he'd seen on television or heard other guys describing in the lockers. He was ready long before Molly, and in fact had been ready before they'd even begun. That did not surprise Molly either, and she reached over to the night stand and taking out the tube of KY Jelly, she squeezed a generous amount on her fingers and smeared the lube over the stiff, wagging cock of her preteen partner, her skin turning to gooseflesh from touching his filthy organ. How she hated this.

Jerome was aching just as badly as his kid brother as he watched Molly on the screen and as he recalled the many times she'd put out for him, Cory having told her and Trang they had to put out whenever he or any of the other guys who'd been at Callie Dean's that night wanted them to. Sitting there on the sofa, he squirmed uncomfortably and reached down and tried to move his horse cock into a more comfortable position, but given his size and arousal and the tightness of his jeans, that was impossible.

"You wanna take it out, dat's okay," Eli said. "Ah knows how uncomfortable it is when it's pinned up like dat, an' if yo hung like yo bro, it's gotta be hurtin' somet'ing awful."

It was painful, very painful. There was no harm in taking it out so it wouldn't hurt so bad. The guy understood, and from the looks of the bulge in his trousers he was feeling the same way. That meant he was turned on watching his brother and Molly too, which meant he was turned on by straight sex, and that was a good thing. Giving in to his need, Jerome unzipped his pants and slipped his fingers inside his fly and struggled getting his large, stiff cock back out the two openings, the one in his boxers and the other in his jeans.

"Probably easier to drop yo pants," Eli suggested, unbuttoning his trousers and pulling down his fly.

Jerome pushed down his jeans, and his boxers. The man was right. It was easier than trying to get his stiff out through the openings. Eli similarly pushed his trousers and boxers down, revealing a large, thick, black pole. Jerome could not help but glance over at it out of curiosity. It was huge, but he had a cock to match the sixty-year-old man even though he was only fourteen. Fortunately for him he was too busy trying not to be obvious glancing at Eli's cock to notice the look of admiration and lust in the black man's eyes. Turning his attention back to the television monitor, Eli stretched back on the sofa and slowly stroked his large, black cock, recalling the first time he'd sunk his black monster up Molly's young, teenage cunt, delighting in that memory, and in watching young Eugene about to lose his virginity, and especially in glancing at Jerome's monster cock out of the corner of his eye. As he expected, Jerome stretched back on the sofa beside him and began to stroke his aching cock also.

Lying on her back and raising and spreading her legs, Molly guided the young twelve-year-old virgin into position as she'd done with so many young, inexperienced boys since being forced to work for Eli Dean and his wife. With her experience, it took Eugene only a couple tries before he was in the right position and was able to penetrate her. Both Eli and Jerome quivered with the pangs of arousal that shot through their groins at the look of pleasure on Eugene's face as he felt his large, aching cock slipping up a girl's hot, juicy cunt for the first time. As Eugene began to pump his hips to and fro, driving his aching cock in and out of Molly's hot, juicy pussy, Eli reached over and replaced Jerome's fist and began to pump his cock, and Jerome reached over and slipped his long, slender fingers about the black man's thick pole. They were only jacking off, and he might just as well take advantage of the opportunity to have someone do him and to do someone else. He could jack his own cock off any time, and besides, it felt a lot hotter doing each other.

Molly reached up and slowed Eugene down, not because the fourteen-year-old had any desire to make this last longer nor because she was finding any pleasure in what they were doing, but because she was finding it painful. That of course was not Eugene's interpretation of her action then, nor when he thought about it and bragged about it later. She wanted him in her and she wanted it to be longer. He was a stud. His blood pounding in his ears and throbbing through his swollen cock, he slowed down, realizing if he didn't he'd be shooting off in another few seconds, something he'd only begun to do four months ago, shortly after the beginning of the new year and six months to the day after his twelfth birthday.

Seeing the pleasure on his brother's face and finding it especially hot that his younger brother was losing his virginity to the same girl who'd taken his, Jerome was finding he was approaching his own climax far too rapidly also. So, when Eli released his cock, he was relieved, wanting to enjoy the pleasure of arousal for a while, and not wanting to look like some inexperienced kid shooting off so fast. As Eli shuffled and shifted his weight on the sofa and slipped an arm about him and his jackoff hand under his hip he didn't really pay much attention, his mind focussed on his brother and the throbbing of his now freed cock. Even as Eli raised him in the air he didn't think much about it. It was not until he felt Eli's hard, pre-cum slick knob pressing against his anus that he realized what was going on. Confused and surprised, he did nothing as his mind sorted out what was happening and tried to choose the best way to object without sounding ungrateful, this after all being the man's establishment and he and his brother being free quests, and the man not only looking like an ape but as strong as one too and probably with the same temperament. He was not a person you wanted to anger, not when you and he were sprawled out on his sofa, the two of you with your pants and underwear about your ankles.

Finally choosing a response, as he opened his mouth to object he felt the man's pre-cum greased knob spreading open his anus, and between his weight and the force of gravity, before he could say anything he felt himself sinking down on Eli's thick, rigid pole. Down he sank, impaling himself on Eli's fleshy rod, and a strange, thrilling, never before imagined pleasure shot up his rectum. Before he could object, he found himself sitting in Eli's coarse nest of thick hairs and then Eli was raising him and the pleasure shot up his rectum again and his anus burned with the new arousal and his stiff cock throbbed and jerked in response. It was not an unpleasant sensation, and besides, it was too late. He was being fucked!

Unaware that he was being watched or what was happening to his brother, Eugene was thinking much the same thing. He was fucking. He was fucking for the first time in his life. He was fucking the very same girl as his older brother had fucked for his first time, the girl that everyone in Lincoln Junior High School ogled and that everyone said was a cock-loving whore. That she was. The way she'd gone after his cock was proof of that, and proof of what a stud he was. With a smile that spread from one large ear to the other, Eugene Eisenstein pumped his hips to and fro, driving his horse cock in and out of the hot, squirming fourteen-year-old whore beneath him, his swollen cock throbbing with pleasure as he felt her hot, slimy cunt throbbing with what had to be the same pleasure, a pleasure Eugene the Stud was bringing her.

Eli's thick, swollen cock was throbbing with pleasure also, the pleasure that Jerome was bringing him. Screwing the older brother, taking his virginity while the two of them watched his younger brother losing his virginity to the whore who had been his older brother's first fuck and whom he himself had fucked dozens of times was unbelievably hot. Even hotter was going to be taking the younger brother's prune too, maybe in front of his older brother. Eli grunted and gasped for breath as he raised and lowered the slender fourteen-year-old boy and as his large, hairy nuts began to swell and tighten. Jerome was grunting and gasping for breath also, giving in to the immense pleasure pulsating out from his anus. He flexed his thigh muscles, assisting Eli by raising and lowering his body, riding the black man's hot, throbbing cock. He was having sex with a black man, and ugly ape of a black man that stank of garlic and cigarettes and beer and sweat! He had the man's hot, throbbing, monster cock up his asshole! He was being fucked, and most disturbing of all, it felt great. His eyes glued to the television monitor, he watched his brother fucking the shit out of Molly, his brother's young, throbbing cock up the same cunt as his own cock had been dozens of times. That was so wicked.

And then they came. Eugene grunted and arched his back as he began to spurt, his thin, watery cum spurting out in staccato, the immense and still mysterious and wonderful pleasure of ejaculation causing the twelve-year-old boy's mind to spin and his loins to go weak. And, in another room watching him, his fourteen-year-old brother arched his back also as a fat, ugly, sixty-year-old black man grasped his slender body and drew him down on his thick, throbbing pole as he began to spurt out his thick cum, filling the boy's throbbing rectum. And feeling Eli's slime filling his shit hole, Jerome gasped as his own teenage cum began to spurt out of his swollen organ, flying up into the air and arching out to land between his outspread legs and the hairy, black legs of the man whose pole he was sitting on. This evening had been even wilder and hotter than either boy had ever imagined it would be, thanks to Cory Wilson for whom they now would definitely do whatever he asked without hesitation. Both bedroom scenes were being taped of course, and of course Cory would be receiving complementary copies of both tapes, and he'd rejoice in the pleasure of the two brothers and the agony of Molly Vickers just as he'd felt Eugene Eisenstein's pain.

Actually, once he'd decided Jonah Winthrop should head a new church and had begun thinking what the Fane of Universal Communion should stand for, that it should promote and practice charity as one of the Precepts had come to him naturally. There were many who like Jerome and now Eugene would do anything for Cory because of the charity he'd personally practised over the past year and eight months. There were many incidences where he had helped the weaker and the suffering besides the time he'd treated Fats, the Spaz, Jerome, Wilbur and the other nerds at Lincoln Junior High to a live performance between Molly and Trang at Callie Dean's and then had given them the opportunity to have sex with the two supposed lesbians that afternoon and whenever else they wanted. The wild grade nine graduation he'd just thrown on Friday had been attended by not just the nerds from his school but by some of the most popular students at Lincoln Junior High besides, guys like Mark Mathers, Manuel Martinez, Joshua Bernstein, Tyrone Washington and Tyrrell Lloyd. The opportunity to fuck their nuts off with Molly, Trang, Ashley and Nicole had not only reaffirmed old loyalties but had won him new friends among the student body's elite besides.

Encouraging the formation of Eli's Place to cater to teenage boys like Kenny Young and Big Theo who would normally be turned away from brothels because of their age was still another example of his helping others. His charity hadn't been limited to his classmates nor to straight sex either. Although they'd thought only of themselves and had shown no love for their own children, he'd shown adults like John Halder, Stewart Millburne, and Helen Ballard what love really was, though there were those who would claim that a man having a relationship with a teenage transvestite, especially a man in John Halder's position, was a worse sin than the abuse and neglect he had shown his son Dominic, or that a paedophilic relationship between a father and son was worse than Stewart Millburne's previous lack of interest in his nine-year-old boy, or even that the love between two adult women was worse than had been Helen Ballard's self-serving, stifling love for her son.

"The Canaanites also called El the Compassionate God of Mercy and that's like you too," Ben pointed out, interrupting Cory's thoughts.

Compassion went hand in hand with charity and Cory could not deny that he was compassionate. After all, he'd decreed that Compassion be the Third Precept of the Fane of Universal Communion right after Charity. It had been out of his compassion for them that he'd brought Ben Hanson and Anna Pakorny together, and his bisexual buddy Terry and Margaret Marshall. It had been compassion that had drawn him and Antoinette together, and had prompted him to encourage his parents through his headband to follow their hearts when he'd discovered their romantic and sexual interest in the Wilson twins. Like his charity, his compassion wasn't limited to heterosexual or intergenerational relationships either. There were also the gay teenage relationships that he'd fostered between Michael Ainsley and Anton, between Kenneth and Dominic, and between Dwayne and Peter.

Two other boys who had reaped the benefits of his compassion were Denis Bois and Byron Baynham. Denis Bois, diverted from his destiny of becoming another angry young shooter thanks to Cory's intervention and friendship, had found himself an overnight hero with an appreciative fan club after his impromptu hair cutting venture with the Gilles family. One of those appreciative fans was Byron Baynham, the young aspiring model and soccer player attending the Royal Glencoe Academy for Boys, who as a grade ten freshman the previous year had no love for his asshole coach Julius Gilles and had admired the daring of the young public school student whose action had resulted in the firing of Goosey Gilles and the subsequent rehiring of Bob Moser, a superior coach whom all the students loved despite the man being gay and a boylover.

The meeting between the two on Easter Sunday a month ago had been totally by chance. Byron and his mother had gotten into another argument that morning and following Sunday services he had stormed off to be alone and had found himself down in Westbank Park where he spotted Cory Wilson and Denis Bois tossing a frisbee. He had sought out Denis back in the beginning of September to personally thank him for having gotten Goosey Gilles fired. Cory he had met through his German teacher Jacob Schuller at the WD and S Entertainment Studios several months ago. He was doing his first photo shoot for Jacob Schuller in his soccer uniform, or rather, taking off his soccer uniform, a modelling job not like what his mother nor he had ever imagined him doing and which he was doing without her knowledge to spite her and to earn some extra cash for himself. With Cory's reddish-brown hair, green-blue eyes, and athletic body, Denis had assumed he was there to do a photo shoot too, and was totally embarrassed to find out he was one-third of WD and S Entertainment Company. Cory had quickly put him at ease and they'd had a good laugh over that.

"Hey, dude, wanna join us?" Cory invited.

"Thanks, but I'm not exactly dressed to be tossing a frisbee around," Byron had responded, spreading his arms and raising a leg to display his expensive suit and dress shoes. He liked good clothes and his mother insisted he always dress as if he were going to a fashion show, one thing they at least agreed upon though he knew in her case it was a matter of showing him off like a bauble she owned as much as it was to showcase his modelling potential.

"So go Greek."

Byron looked at him in puzzlement.

"Strip. The Greeks practised sports in the nude all the time."

"Yeah, right," he laughed as he glanced around at the families and elderly enjoying the Easter Sunday in the park.

"Don't know if I wanna play with you anyway. You look like you wanna punch someone out. What's wrong?"

"It's nothing."

"Bullshit."

Byron didn't know Cory that well, but he knew from the couple times they'd met he was upfront about things. "My mother and I had another argument over soccer. She's been on my case about quitting."

"You wanna quit the rgab soccer team?" Denis asked in surprise. He'd seen Byron play and he was good.

"No, my mother wants me to quit."

"Why?"

"She's afraid I'll hurt my pretty face and ruin my chances at a modelling career."

"She does have a point," Cory observed.

"You do have a pretty face," Denis added in agreement, turning a brilliant scarlet a second later as he realized what he'd said and how it had to have sounded. Still painfully shy despite his popularity he wished he could shrink and hide under the blades of grass at his feet.

"Not to mention other parts of your anatomy," Cory added to detract from Denis's embarrassment and causing Byron to turn the same bright red, Cory having seen him posing naked on several occasions now. "Actually, that's something the two of you have in common," Cory observed with a grin. Denis turned so red he was sure Byron could feel the heat from his face from where he was standing. "Say, I never noticed the time," Cory said suddenly as he looked at his watch. "I'll have to catch you two pretty boys another time." Without waiting for a response he headed up the path. The two boys glanced at each other and shuffled their feet, not knowing each other that well and not knowing what to say nor how to part company without appearing unsocial.

"So, you and your mother argue often huh?" Denis asked.

"Yeah," Byron replied sourly as he kicked at a clump of grass.

"Hey, sorry. I'm not prying or anything. I didn't mean to get personal." Sometimes the sensitive fourteen-year-old thought life had been a lot better in the days when he had been too shy to speak to people he didn't know well.

"That's all right, I don't mind. Actually it's nice to be able to talk to someone about it." Byron was desperate to get what was bothering him off his mind, and though he hardly knew Denis, he had a sense that he could trust him and that he'd understand.

"You're telling me. I got a bitch of a mother myself." Although since the haircut incident he'd found himself with a lot of friends, other than Cory none of them were close enough to share his personal thoughts and feelings, especially embarrassing ones like his home life, or lack of one. Finding someone who also had parental problems felt good. Misery loves company after all.

The two boys sat there in the park and talked, Byron about his demanding mother who delighted in showing him off and had his whole life planned out for them, and his father who was able to avoid her domineering and her swollen ego by escaping to his office, which also resulted in abandoning him, and Denis about his absent, alcoholic father and his self-centred mother, neither of them giving a damn about him nor his life. Being quiet and painfully shy, he was a target for every bully in the city, and being a pretty boy and dressing like a sissy, so was Byron. Besides attracting domineering women who wanted to baby them and control them and bullies who used them to make themselves look macho, the two boys were starved for love and for attention, and for companionship.

As they looked into each other's eyes, each boy knew he'd found his soul mate. Things just happened after that, strange, new, wonderful things. They found themselves walking over to the west edge of the park which the city had left in its natural state to serve as a boundary between the park and the freeway and to discourage the residents from using it, and pushing their way through the shrubbery to a secluded enclosure that Cory had shown Denis and where the two of them had on more than one occasion worked off their natural teenage sexual energy. Denis hadn't taken Byron there intentionally for that purpose. Having shared their most personal thoughts and feelings, it just seemed a natural place to go to, and having no reason to suspect Byron was anything but a hundred percent heterosexual, Denis was not about to risk making a homosexual advance. Byron, though he had screwed Julian's fake pussy and his kid brother's ass on several occasions on those post-soccer parties the previous year, was a regular customer at Eli's Place and thoroughly enjoyed the services of their female employees. Thoughts of having sex with a guy and that Denis might be gay were the furthest things from his mind.

Thanking each other for listening and apologizing for unloading on each other, the two sensitive boys were on the brink of tears and each sensed a compassion and empathy from the other that he'd never felt with anyone else before. It was only natural that they embraced to comfort each other and to offer the other physical support as close buddies do under emotional times, though they'd only met each other once prior to that spring day. It seemed only natural for that embrace to turn into a caress, gentle and caring, above the clothes and innocent, and for that caress to be followed by a kiss, also gentle and caring and loving. From there nature took over.

They kissed a second time, closing their long, feathery eyelashes that caused the hearts of mothers and teenage girls to flutter as their lips met, and then a third and fourth time. Their young, ruby lips were smooth and their breaths fresh and natural. Denis kissed Byron's downy cheeks and Byron's moist lips skipped over Denis's cheeks, kissing them lightly and lovingly. Denis untied Byron's tie and dropped the seventy-five-dollar Italian silk on the fresh grass beside them where they lay. He eased the thousand-dollar navy blue Armani suit jacket off over his shoulders, and unbuttoning his white silk shirt, he eased it off too and dropped it along side his other clothes.

Byron meanwhile unbuttoned and removed Denis's shirt and caressed the fourteen-year-old's smooth, muscular torso, running his fingers over his strong back and following the curves of his deltoids and his softly contoured breasts, just beginning to develop the tone and firmness of adolescence. Denis's lips skipped over Byron's smooth, sculptured torso, the sixteen-year-old's chest firmer and more angular with his age but still naturally smooth. He kissed the older boy's nipples and brushed his smooth, soft lips over the tender buds, causing them to swell and become firm just as Cory had taught him. He quivered with the same delight as Byron ran his fingertips over his nips, teasing them until they were firm and burning with arousal, and he inhaled sharply as Byron encircled them with a fingertip and then gently ran the tip of his finger over them.

Their nipples were not the only part of their body that was becoming firm and beginning to burn with arousal. Though neither boy considered himself gay, each was becoming aroused, and though that arousal was from caressing and kissing another boy, neither found it to be a reason for concern. They needed love and companionship, and each was grateful to the other for filling that need. As they pulled down each other's fly, their swelling dicks throbbed with excitement and anticipation, the two boys finding the other's touch more erotic and exciting than anything they'd ever done with a girl. They pushed each other's pants down and then each other's underwear, and they removed their shoes and socks and stepped out of their clothes. Naked, the two teenage boys embraced once again and resumed kissing and caressing, their moist, ruby lips skipping over each other's soft, smooth skin, their long, slender fingers squeezing and caressing smooth, firm deltoids and pecs and buttocks.

Their cocks now fully extended and rock hard, they wrapped their fingers about each other's aching staff and gently stroked each other's swollen, throbbing flesh. Lying on his back and spreading and raising his legs, Denis looked invitingly up at Byron and the older boy smiled down at him, his deep blue eyes moist with love and with lust. Slipping his hands under the younger boy's buttocks, he raised them as he bowed his head and his ruby lips met the soft pucker nestled between the boy's smooth cheeks. He kissed and licked and nibbled on the boy's asshole and stuck his tongue inside and rimmed him as he'd watched the Gilles brothers do during the orgies with the soccer team, and he fastened his lips to the boy's asshole and blew his spittle up the younger boy's rectum.

As Denis raised his buttocks and threw his legs back over his head, Byron knelt before him and placing the tip of his stiff, aching cock against the spit-lubed hole, he grasped the boy's slender hips and pressed forward as Denis, having been mounted for the first time by Cory a year ago, pushed out and opened his hole for him. The trill of songbirds in the trees above was joined by the grunts and the panting of the two young boys as they strained to unite and ever so slowly the older boy's cockhead spread open the younger boy's sphincter until at last his knob popped inside the younger boy's rectum. He inhaled deeply with delight as he felt the boy's flesh envelop his knob, and Denis inhaled deeply with delight also as he felt the older boy's most private and precious part penetrate him.

And then ever so slowly Byron pressed forward, sinking his slender, aching cock up Denis's hot, moist rectum until his huge, dangling balls were brushing up against the younger boy's smooth buttocks and Denis's own large, hairy balls were nesting in Byron's curly, platinum blond bush. Panting and gasping with arousal and pleasure, the two pretty boys closed their eyes in delight, Byron concentrating on the pleasure of having his aching cock surrounded by hot, moist, throbbing ass flesh, and Denis concentrating on the pleasure of having his hot, aching hole stuffed with a hot, rock-hard cock. And then they began to fuck and the singing of songbirds in the enclosure was joined by the panting and grunting of two rutting boys delighting in the pleasure they were feeling and in the pleasure they knew they were bringing each other.

Neither boy was a stranger to having sex with another boy, Byron having done the Gilles brothers and Denis having had sex with Cory, but it was the first time the two boys felt such an intense attraction for their partner. Of course Denis had felt an attraction to Cory and had wanted more than anything else to please him, but it was not the same as what he was feeling at that moment for Byron. With Cory it had been hero worship and gratitude and a repayment for past deeds. With Byron it was a combination of love and lust, a desire to please and a sense of being pleasured. Uninhibited and unhampered by society's restraints, the two pretty boys rutted there in the Sunday afternoon sun that April, Byron thrusting his long, slender cock in and out of Denis's hot, moist rectum, Denis alternately tightening and relaxing his sphincter in time with Byron's thrusts and withdrawals. With his intense blue eyes sparkling with lust, his high cheekbones, and his pretty face and curly, platinum blond hair, Denis looked like an angel to Byron, and the high school sophomore with his dreamy, dark brown eyes, long feathery eyelashes, and dark brown hair combed in a bang over his forehead and down over his ears looked like an angel to the younger boy. What the two of them were doing was secret, adult, and forbidden, and it was wonderful.

In the weeks and months to follow the two boys would prolong their pleasure and would spend long, leisurely afternoons in each other's bedroom and long, lustful nights in each other's arms, but that day, their first time, they were too aroused and too filled with lust and delight to extend their lovemaking. And so they grasped each other in that ultimate moment and shuddered and Byron lunged forward and Denis arched his back and thrust upward as the two teenage boys exploded, their large, hairy balls drawn up tight below their stiff, aching teen cocks. Spurt after spurt of hot teenage cum shot up Denis's asshole, filling his rectum and sending him into spasms of delight and Byron whimpered and clutched the fourteen-year-old boy in ecstasy as he shot off the largest load he'd ever shot. At the same time, Denis's hot, thick teenage cum spurted out of his thick, numb cock with a force and volume that only fourteen-year-old boys can achieve, shooting through the air to lace his sixteen-year-old lover's smooth chest and to land in thick blobs of white goo on his own heaving breasts. It was the first of many delightful couplings to come.

Denis, a dedicated bottom boy, was most happy when someone was telling him what, where, and when to do things. Byron, a latent top, had never had another person who cared about him without selfish reasons nor another boy so in sync with himself that he could discuss and express his deepest and most private thoughts. It was a match made in heaven though unbeknownst to the two boys, the matchmaker was a teenage boy of their age living right there on earth. The two boys' subconscious personalities had been discovered accidentally by Cory long before that Sunday afternoon, the boys' thoughts and desires being so strong his headband had picked them up without Cory even scanning their minds. The consequence, hooking the two of them up, had on the other hand been the result of some careful thought and detailed planning on how he would go about doing it prior to that chance meeting that Easter Sunday. It had been because of that advance thought and planning that he'd been able to ping the two boys so quickly and so subtly that afternoon, giving them that confidence and little nudge secure in the knowledge that nature would then take over.

Cory had not always shown such prudence. While discovering the power of his headband and his abilities he had frequently acted on impulse and often had been reckless, but he'd only turned thirteen back then and easily gave in to the rashness of youth. Over time he'd learned to use better judgement and to exercise discretion. Julius Gilles's initial forays into bestiality for example had been totally on a whim and for his own amusement and erotic pleasure, but the morning at the Olympia Dairy and Goat Farm had taken careful thought and a lot of planning in advance to ensure things went off well for not just Julius but for his nephew Benji and for his buddy Anthony besides. Involving the New York City boys Ethan and Tyrrell and implanting a subconscious desire for bestiality had admittedly been rash and a spur of the moment decision, but the two arrogant city boys deserved it. For relatives and good friends on the other hand, he would never play with their inner psyche so lightly.

Fostering the polyandrous relationship between Annette and her two husbands, and his intention of extending her marriage to include guys of several other races was the result of careful and deliberate decisions on his part, admittedly initially to teach her a lesson about social snobbery and racial prejudice, but now to hold her up as a shining example for others of true interracial love. Similarly his plans to get Molly and Trang, Erica and Michaela, and Antoinette knocked up had admittedly been to teach them all a lesson also, but they also were an example of his prudence and careful planning to promote by example the Precepts of the Fane of Universal Communion that guided his own life. Encouraging and facilitating his mother's attempt to become pregnant was still another example of his love and the values that he held.

Fostering the relationship between the teenage transvestite Julian Gilles and John Halder; the masochistic fetishes of Nicole Harder, Juliette Gilles, and Father Henry; the sadistic fetishes of Ashley Rowland and of the choirboys Raphael and Daniel; the scat fetishes of Bob Moser, the Freeman brothers and cousins, and Julius and Juliette Gilles; Juliette's fetish for boys' underwear and diapers and Ashley's fetish for girls' panties; and Bob Moser's and Julius Gilles's water sports fetish were also the result of Cory's careful planning and judgement and were all part of a larger plan of his to promote sexual freedom and diversity.

The Wilson-Dean-Schuller Entertainment Company had a major role to play in that plan to promote sexual freedom and diversity. The company had become a multimillion dollar empire with worldwide distribution far exceeding Jacob Schuller's wildest dreams. Being one of those dirty little secrets that nobody would admit to, nobody really knew how many purveyors of porn there were but from the amount of porn being produced and consumed it was far from uncommon which made its condemnation by religious and political leaders absurd. There wasn't a country in the world that didn't have a large segment of their population purveying porn, not even Vatican City which was no surprise given the history of the Catholic church, and WD and S Entertainment was noted in the industry as producing the very best.

They had just recently branched into shotacon videos and comics drawn by Adrian Bone and Dylan Ingles that were available as dvd's, magazines, and on an Internet pay site designed by Ben Hanson. Cory also had plans in the works for the company to produce educational videos in conjunction with the Fane of Universal Communion for use in their catechism classes, church-sponsored schools, orphanages and international adoption programs, and family and personal counselling sessions. The videos would explain and promote all aspects of sex from ass licking to zoophilia with the target audience being boys eight years and younger, their young minds being particularly receptive and still relatively untainted by society and other religions. He also had in mind fuc being the main distributor of a series of educational movies promoting boylove and he knew he could count on testimonials from Ramon and his uncle Raphael, both who at the moment were family counsellors working for fuc, Nick and his uncle Warren, Jonah and David De Silva, and of course Anton and his brother Francois with their father.

Dean and Juan's street knowledge and sleazy minds were being put to good use in the production of traditional straight and gay porn available as dvd's, print magazines, and on the Internet. Chakroth and Sangha Chouan were willing and rising porn stars, and Cory's own perverted teenage boy mind had drafted some very filthy scripts staring them with Trang and Molly once the two got knocked up and were showing. Byron Baynham had already posed for a series of still photos that had been purchased by the Internet pay site "Boy Fantasy" and a triple-x jacking off series that was making the rounds on boy bulletin boards as a premiere for some more serious child porn that Cory had in mind. The baby-faced young teen had a promising modelling career with WD and S Entertainment, as did Ashley Rowland who Cory had plans of making a major lesbian S and M and scat star. Byron of course would be well paid for his part and would willingly do whatever Cory asked of him while Ashley would do so under duress until Cory was satisfied the bitch had learned her lesson.

The right-wing churches and do-good organizations had a lot of power at the moment and right-wing governments were currently in favour, which meant production of porn and especially the type WD and S Entertainment was producing was a risky and dangerous business and took a lot of fortitude, but Cory never was one to shy away from a challenge when it meant supporting something he believed in. A lack of temperance was a definite weakness, but then he was young. He admittedly showed little moderation when it came to jerking off or matters of sex, but then what fourteen-year-old boy did? On the other had when it came to such matters he was far more open-minded than many of the world's so called political and social leaders. Although only fourteen, he had helped many explore and discover the marvels and delights of sex, Terry, Anthony, Benji, Dominic, Ben, Jonah, the cub pack from Rancho Santa Ana, and his own sons to name only a few, and while other supposedly intelligent world and community leaders were condemning and shutting down prostitution rings, he'd helped Callie Dean enhance her whore house and start up a second whore house for underage clients and employees run by her brother and sister-in-law Eli and Emma Dean.

That in his mind was true justice. It had been his teenage sense of fairness and rightness, supported and strengthened by his great-grandfather's headband, that had prompted him to make unwilling whores out of Nicole, Trang, Molly and Ashley, and boy whores out of Eddie Fairchild and Alistair Simms, all who required humbling and punishment for past behaviour. True justice, not the convoluted and self-interested justice of the courts, was the Sixth Precept of fuc. It had been his belief in that justice that had been the motivation for his punishment of the snobs and the hypocrites, the braggarts and the bullies, the anti-homosexuals, and the racially prejudiced in his world, people like Nicole Halder, Calvin and Karen Cosher, Eddie Fairchild, Father Henry, Molly, Ashley and Trang, Jonathan Winthrop, the Gilles family, and the ex cops Erica and Michaela.

At that very moment Evert Lang and Derry Epstein were there in the studio at the mansion about to be filmed meting out punishment to two errant, misguided little boys as part of a docudrama series to be used by the Fane of Universal Communion. Jacob Schuller, who specialized in fetish films for WD and S Entertainment Company, was directing, with Dwayne Hainsworth on camera assisted by his boyfriend Peter Manchester who also was responsible for the set and the props, which had come from Derry and from Jacob Schuller's collection. The film began with Evert and Derry, dressed as typical grade twelve seniors and acting as themselves, entering the room with two blindfolded and gagged seven-year-old boys with their hands tied behind their backs. As their blindfolds were removed, the two boys blinked their eyes in the bright lights of the cameras and glanced around the room, which had been made up to look like an unfinished basement with open two-by-four walls, open beams across the ceiling, and a tiled floor, in wide-eyed fear and apprehension. They were not acting.

"Now, I'll remove your gags and untie your hands if you promise not to yell and not to try to escape, understand?"

The two boys nodded, eager to do whatever this boy and his friend who had abducted them from the playground said. Evert removed the gags and untied the ropes. The taller and beefier of the two, Tanner, who stood at four feet and weighted fifty-five pounds, rubbed his wrists but made no attempt to bolt. His buddy, Brayton, at forty-five pounds and three foot nine, was slim and short for his age. He looked like he was about to cry. Both were good-looking boys with large, white teeth, Tanner with rich brown eyes and thick, brown hair combed in a bang over his forehead and curled over his ears, Brayton with an angelic, effeminate face with deep blue eyes and fine, blond hair that almost reached to his shoulders, a style rare for boys today.

"Now, you boys know why you are here?"

They shook their heads as they looked up at Evert innocently and fearfully. One minute they'd been playing in the playground near their home in Mountainview Estates, the second richest community in Riverside, and the next minute they were being tied up and shoved into the back seat of a car by this boy and his friend.

"You remember the man in the park who asked you if you'd like to play a game with him?" The boys nodded. "And what did you tell him?"

The two boys glanced at each other. "We told him we aren't supposed to talk to strangers," Tanner replied timidly, tending to be the bolder and leader of the two boys.

"And when he said he could show you a game that could make you feel real good, did you go with him?" Tanner shook his head in the negative. "Now that wasn't very nice. He was just being friendly. Why didn't you go with him?"

"My dad said we're to never go with strangers."

"What does your asshole dad know? He's too busy making money and being important to know what kids want and like. Does he play games with you and make you feel good?"

"Sometimes," replied Tanner.

"Every day?" Tanner shook his head in the negative. "Once a week?"

"Sometimes." Actually it was usually less. The boy was right. His dad was usually too busy to play games. His mother too. Same with Brayton's mom and dad. That's why they spent a lot of time together at the playground, and that was why Cory had no worries about Evert and Derry kidnapping them for a few hours when he'd learned about the two boys and their encounter with Earl Thompson while scanning Earl Thompson's mind in the Jacinto Mountains last night. Their parents wouldn't even notice they'd been gone.

"And when the man offered you candy besides, did you agree to play with him then?" The boys shook their heads in the negative again. "Now that wasn't being friendly. That was bad. Why didn't you take the candy and play with him?"

"My dad says if someone offers you stuff to say no cuz he wants to do bad things to you."

"Like what?" Tanner shrugged. "Didn't you ask what sort of bad stuff?" Tanner nodded. "And your dad didn't tell you?" Tanner shook his head again. "That wasn't very nice of him was it?"

"He said I was too young to understand and to just not do it."

"Did you like that answer?" Tanner shook his head in the negative.

"Sounds to me that your dad doesn't like to have fun and doesn't want you to have any fun either." Tanner sometimes thought that himself, and Brayton sometimes felt the same way about his dad. "Well, for being unfriendly and unneighbourly to the nice man, we're going to have to punish you."

"But we were told 3;"

"Are you disagreeing with me?" Evert asked sharply, causing the two bewildered and frightened boys to jump. Brayton looked like he was going to cry again. "Take off your clothes."

"We're not suppos 3;"

Grabbing Tanner and bending him over, Evert gave him three solid whacks on the backside that made his hand sting, and he knew had to have made the boy's butt sting even more. "Next time you don't do what either of us tells you as soon as we tell you, you'll get twice as many whacks and twice as hard. Now get those fucking clothes off or the two of us will rip them off."

The two boys glanced at Dwayne taking the video of them and Peter snapping still photos and at the man with the narrow moustache standing behind them. As Evert took a step toward them, they quickly began to unbutton their shirts. While the two boys stripped down self-consciously, Derry filled a bucket with warm, soapy water. Stepping out of their underwear, the two boys glanced at each other and dropped their hands before their crotches in embarrassment. As Derry approached Tanner with the bucket and an enema syringe, the boy's eyes widened. "Now bend over and grab your ankles," he said with a smile.

"What are you going to do?"

Evert gave both boys a swat on the naked backsides, causing both to yelp in surprise and with the pain. Pulling up a chair, he sat down and grabbing Tanner and turning him over his knee, he gave him five more swats, not holding back. The boy's pale pink rump was glowing red where his little ass had been spanked and tears trickled down his flushed cheeks. Letting him go, he grabbed Brayton, who'd been too surprised and too frightened to move, and similarly threw him over his knee and spanked his little bottom too, ignoring the boy's cries and tears. Neither boy had ever been spanked before and their tender bottoms smarted painfully. "I meant what I said about doing what you were told, you two spoiled little snots. Now bend over and grab your ankles."

The two boys obeyed instantly and Dwayne and Peter zoomed in on their backsides. Filling the eight-ounce [0.25 liter] syringe with warm, soapy water, Derry inserted the tip in Tanner's asshole and filled his rectum. Telling him to clamp his asshole shut tight, he removed the syringe and did the same to Brayton, and then filled the syringe a third and fourth time and did the two boys again. With sixteen ounces [0.5 liter] of warm, soapy water stretching their rectums it was obvious the two boys were straining to keep their sphincters closed. The next eight ounces [0.5 liter] forced the warm water up into their intestines, their rectums unable to take any more, and the fourth and fifth injections pushed the water even further, causing their intestines to slither and gurgle. The boys were sure their tummies were going to burst as Derry squirted another five syringe-fulls up their intestines. Evert grinned as he ran his fingers over each taut little belly, bloated now with two quarts [2 liter] of warm, soapy water.

"Now then, we're going to have a nice little game of catch the ball," Evert said with a smile. Seeing himself as a smooth-talker and an intellectual, he was a natural to take the lead in this docudrama. Cory had drafted a quick and detailed script as he'd been driven from the Jacinto Mountains to Bishop Henry's, and had accurately anticipated most of the responses by the two seven-year-olds, and Jacob Schuller had prepared the two teenagers by giving them alternative lines depending on the responses by the two youngsters based on his extensive viewing of water sports videos, so Evert and Derry had to do little ad-libbing.

Standing in a square with the two teenagers alternating between the two seven-year-old boys, they tossed the ball clockwise, making the two younger boys stretch above their heads or to the sides or reach down below their knees. Their strain and discomfort and their apprehension over releasing the contents of their rectums and intestines was clear in their eyes and the expressions on their faces.

"What's the matter, don't you like to play toss the ball?" Evert asked, following Jacob Schuller's cue.

"I got to go number two real bad," Tanner replied tensely.

"What about you Brayton?"

"Me too."

"Well, you have been cooperative," Evert observed when Jacob gestured that the boys had enough and they had best go on to the next scene. "Not like you were with the nice man on the playground," he pointed out as he and Derry placed a bucket behind each boy. "Okay, go ahead," he said gesturing at the buckets. "You see, good things happen when you are cooperative." Jacob smiled as he ran a finger along his thin moustache. Young Cory Wilson's script writing was inspired and showed real insight into human behaviour. One of the trademarks of WD and S videos was the inclusion of a moral lesson or reinforcement of some value. It wasn't just porn.

The two boys glanced at each other and then at the two teenagers and over at the two boys taking their picture. What they were being told to do was humiliating and embarrassing but the pressure on their sphincters was a stronger force. As they prepared to sit on the two buckets, Evert told them to squat above them so the cameras could have a good shot of them emptying their bowels. Unable to hold back, the boys hovered above the two buckets and let loose. A torrent of brown slush cascaded from their straining, gaping anuses and gushed into the two metal buckets with a hollow ringing noise, and as the buckets began to fill, with the sound of churning water. The sight and sounds of the two little naked boys emptying their bowels caused the dicks of the two older teens to begin to swell as they recalled many an enema they'd given themselves and each other, something Dwayne and Peter noticed and zoomed in on. The closeups of the bulges swelling in their jeans and the looks of pleasure and amusement on their faces, and the closeups of the looks of relief and pleasure on the faces of the two seven-year-olds and of the brown slush gushing out of their straining assholes were sure to garner them praise from Jacob and Cory.

"You two boys need a good shower," Evert observed when the two boys were finally done. He dragged two chairs into the centre of the room and had the two boys stand side by side between them.

The two teens quickly chucked their clothes, and out of curiosity the two younger boys could not help but check them out. Both had strong, muscular bodies, Evert from playing soccer and Derry from being on William Cleaver High's swim team, and Dwayne and Peter zoomed in on their chiselled chests and firm buttocks and hard, muscular biceps and thighs. Of course already partially aroused, their cocks were longer and thicker than normal, something the two preteens could not help but notice and admire. As the two teenagers stood on the two chairs and reached down and raised their pricks, the two preteens got a closeup look, Evert's cock being directly in front of Tanner's eyes and Derry's large, hairy balls directly before Brayton's.

"What are you going to do?" Tanner asked, his naturally high voice a couple octaves higher in apprehension. The boy couldn't possibly be planning on doing what he thought he was going to do.

"Number one," Evert ad-libbed huskily before returning to Cory's script, "and don't either of you move or you won't be able to sit for a week after the paddling we'll give you."

Before the two boys could respond Evert let loose and Derry followed a second later. The rich yellow piss of the two teens arched up and splashed back down on the heads of the two innocent little boys. Yellow streams ran down the sides past their ears, over their faces, and down the back of their heads, streaming down their necks, and on down over their naked bodies, over their smooth, rounded chests still contoured with baby fat, over their flat stomachs and smooth pubes. Rich yellow piss flowed over their hairless little ball sacks and over their tiny little weenies to flow off the tips as if they were pissing. Hot piss flowed down their smooth backs, following the natural crease between their shoulder blades and down along the crack of their smooth, rounded little asses and down the backs of their thighs. It collected in a puddle about their naked feet, drenching their soles and toes. The temperature in the room had been turned up and the sharp, nitrogenous odour of fresh piss filled the air, their piss being particularly dark and odoriferous in that they'd been holding it all day in anticipation of this moment, the two boys having been text-messaged by Cory with their acting assignment and script early that morning as he'd left Bishop Henry's. It was also copious, the two boys having drunk several galleons of water so that by the time they'd kidnapped the two little boys their bladders were already filled to capacity and aching to be emptied.

As their streams began to slacken, they washed their piss over the boys' smooth chests, aiming their hot, putrid streams against the boys' sensitive little nipples, and then aiming still farther down to splash against their little dicklets, which in response to the warm flood of piss over them and over their thighs had begun to stiffen. By the time the two teenagers were done and stepped down off the chairs, the little boys' wee-wees were semi-erect, and the teenager's cocks were near full erection. Embarrassed, humiliated, and perplexed, the two seven-year-olds stood there in shock, their naked bodies soaked in piss and their feet in a puddle of tepid urine.

Going over to the work bench along one wall, the two teenagers returned with clear plastic baby bottles. With Evert squatting down before Tanner and Derry before Brayton, the two teens held out a bottle before each boy and told them to piss in them. The two boys had not gone since lunch, and between their enemas and their golden showers, both had to go, and again despite the humiliation and embarrassment of doing so in a bottle and before the two teens, and being photographed doing it, their natural need won over and the two youngsters began to piss. They easily filled the first eight-ounce [0.25 liter] bottles, and a second pair, to the delight of the two teens.

Pulling a wooden dining room table into the centre of the room, the two teens had the two little boys lay on their backs and raise their hips so that their legs were thrown over their heads. Handing affixed rubber nipples to the baby bottles, they handed each of the boys a bottle of their own piss and told them to begin sucking. The two stared at their abusers, their noses wrinkled in disgust and their eyes wide with surprise. As Evert began to raise his hand the two slipped the nipples into their mouths and began to suck. Pain was a great motivator and despite the putrid nitrogenous taste of their warm urine and the indignity of drinking their own piss, they sucked on the bottles and swallowed their foul brine.

Evert and Derry watched for a moment before proceeding to give the two boys a second enema, squirting the brown slush from Tanner's body up Brayton's rectum, and using the enema water and shit slush from Brayton's body for Tanner's enema. The two teenagers were fully erect and randy as fuck by then, and as they filled the intestines of the two helpless little boys, they at the same time fiddled with their little cocklets, pulling the silky foreskin back to reveal their reddish little knobs, and then pushing them back up, sending thrills of stimulation and pleasure never before felt though the slender little cocktail weenies and causing them to become rigid as their tummies began to swell once again with sludge. Lying there on their backs with their legs in the air, their flat little tummies now rounded and distended with the water and shit sludge that had been squirted back up their rectums, their bodies streaked from their golden shower, and their little, stiff cocklets sticking out from their bodies, the two naked little cherubs looked like horny little toads as they sucked the last of their piss from the baby bottles. Everyone in the room was stiff with arousal and it was all that Derry and Evert could do to stop from coming.

Helping the boys off the table and putting the two empty buckets on the floor, the two teenagers sat on the edge of the table and instructed the two preteens to squat before them and above the buckets and told them they could empty their bowels after they sucked them off. Of course the two innocent boys had no idea what they meant by 'sucking them off' and their eyes widened with shock and disgust and their cheeks reddened with shame and as what they were expected to do was explained to them. Despite the spanking they knew they'd get and that in the end they'd still be forced to suck the teenagers' dinks, the two boys balked. The perversity of what they were being ordered to do and the nausea of putting a guy's filthy dink in their mouths, and in front of the cameras, was greater than even the anticipated pain of a spanking.

Cory had anticipated that and had provided a response should the two boys refuse. Their eyes widened even wider and their bloated stomachs turned with the threat of sucking the enema sludge from each other's butt instead. The perversity and filth of drinking their own shit water compared to sucking the dinks of the two boys put things in a clear perspective. As the two little naked boys opened their mouths and fighting the urge to puke reluctantly slipped their rosy lips over the stiff cocks of the two teenagers, Evert and Derry picked up the remaining baby bottles of piss, and as Tanner went down on Evert the older boy began to suck the baby bottle he'd filled with his little boy piss, and Derry did the same as Brayton went down on him, his big blue eyes filled with shame and humiliation and his long, blond hair matted and plastered to his scalp from the piss shower he'd received.

Breathing heavily and irregularly through their noses as they fought back their nausea, the musky aroma of hot teen cock accented the raw, mushroom taste of the fat knobs in their mouths. Their flushed cheeks sunk in as they sucked on throbbing, blood-engorged cocks and as the youngster's breathing became more regular the two teens instructed them on how to go down on them. They slowly slipped their soft lips down the thick shafts of the two teenagers and their saliva basted the rigid flesh until their mouths filled and they had to swallow the cock-flavoured spittle. They continued sucking as they began to bob their heads, sliding their lips up and down the throbbing teenage pricks.

As they established a comfortable rhythm, they were ordered to reach over and stroke each other's still stiff little dickey. As they slowly tugged on each other's little cocklet, drawing their foreskins up over their little knobs and then pealing them back and exposing the ruddy little plums, they quivered with the strange, new pleasure causing the knobs of their little cocklets to tingle and burn. The mysterious, new pleasure was a delightful distraction from the disgusting, perverted act they were performing on the two teens and from the uncomfortable pressure from their swollen, distended stomachs. As that strange pleasure intensified, they unconsciously began sucking on the two stiff, throbbing cocks all the harder, causing the two already highly aroused teens to squirm with pleasure as the pressure in their groins escalated.

Despite the aching desire to shoot off a load, the two teenage boys had the two novice cocksuckers pause so they could delay their ejaculation and enjoy the immense pleasure pulsating through their swollen cocks. Pausing also gave Tanner and Brayton time to focus on and enjoy the mysterious pleasure they were giving each other, and like an itch that they could not resist scratching, they eagerly continued rubbing each other's swollen, aching little dickey until their tiny cocklets became so swollen and stiff it was impossible to pull their long foreskins completely back and they instead pumped their fingers rapidly to and fro in a blur, rubbing their itching little knobs inside their silky foreskins.

They were finally instructed to resume sucking, and they did so eagerly, not because of the need to empty their bowels, nor because of the strange pleasure pulsating through their cocklets as they tugged each other's aching little boner, but because in truth they instinctively knew they were giving the two boys the same pleasure as they were giving each other and because it was exciting and mysterious and forbidden and something only boys could do, four qualities that made it impossible for any real boy not to enjoy. Once again Evert and Derry felt the pressure developing in their loins, but this time they didn't stop their two novice cocksuckers, and with a sharp intake of breath they warned the two boys they were going to give them a tasty reward and to slip their lips up their shafts so they just had their knobs in their mouth and to get ready to begin swallowing.

The two teens tensed and held their breaths as they felt their jism racing up the core of their swollen cocks. They exhaled loudly as their thick, hot slime spurted out of their throbbing cocks and quickly filled the little boys' mouths, and the two boys began to swallow the tart, gooey slime instinctively as their mouths filled. At the same time they relaxed their straining sphincters and the slush that had been bulging out their little tummies gushed out of their bodies and into the buckets they were squatting over. The pleasure of evacuating their overfilled bowels and the erotic burning of their tender little anuses as the water and chunks of shit gushed out of their bodies were suddenly supplemented by still another new and totally unexpected and powerful pleasure as the two boys felt a twang deep in their groins and an electric shock rip up the core of their swollen little dickey. The naked boys, squatting over the two pails as they emptied their bowels, their lips still tightly wrapped about the spurting cocks in their mouths, wobbled weakly on their numbed legs as their first dry orgasms jolted through them. Their legs quivered and jerked uncontrollably as a strange, sharp pleasure that was ten times the pleasure a guy felt when he took a leak and so powerful it was almost painful pulsated through their swollen little cocklets. They felt like they had to take a horse piss but could not and their swollen, ruddy cockheads felt like they were on fire and about to burst like overfilled balloons. The musky aroma of fresh, teenage spunk was added to the piss-laden air, accented by the heat of the room, and the erotic mix was sucked into the lungs of the two teenage boys and the two seven-year-olds as their minds spun dizzily with their orgasms and they gasped for breath.

"So," Evert asked sometime later after the four of them had washed up and gotten dressed and as the four of them prepared to leave, "did you like the way we made you feel?" Tanner and Brayton nodded their heads shyly. Except for the spanking it had felt good, even being pissed on and having their bellies filled and even sucking the teenagers' dinks and swallowing their gunk, which they could still taste, but especially the way their little cocklets had gotten hard and the way their bodies had twitched at the end. "So the next time a nice man approaches you and asks if you'd like to have some fun with him and offers to make you feel good, are you going to refuse?"

"Un-un," the two boys replied together, shaking their heads.

Delighting in the special pleasures of enemas and water sports, and of course the pleasure of ejaculation, Evert and Derry smiled knowingly at the two boys and at each other. They were delighted to have had the opportunity to punish the two boys for rejecting the advances of Earl Thompson, and even more delighted to have had the opportunity to engage in those pleasures, and they were especially delighted in having had the opportunity to introduce the two seven-year-olds to the joys of their favourite fetishes besides the pleasures of sucking cock and jerking off, and on top of it all, to promote their beliefs through WD and S Entertainment. As for young Tanner and Brayton, they'd had confirmed that their moms and dads didn't know everything and didn't always have their best interests in mind, something they'd suspected even at the age of seven. Even better, they had learned four new pastimes they could engage in with each other to bring each other pleasure, three of which they could engage in alone to pleasure themselves. That Sunday they had taken the first steps toward becoming enema and piss queens under the guidance of two pros.

As for Cory, he had seen that justice prevailed by counteracting the erroneous beliefs and practices of Tanner's and Brayton's parents regarding boy love and the sexual education and expression of their sons and by correcting the boys for their lack of kindness and consideration regarding Earl Thompson. The lack of attention they were receiving from their own parents would be more than made up for by him or men like him in the future. He'd also introduced the two young boys to pleasures and opportunities that should never be denied them and set them on the right track toward a more open and rewarding lifestyle, and the docudrama they had just produced would see through the Fane of Universal Communion that hundreds or even thousands of other young boys and their birth or adoptive parents lived full and loving lives.

Behind his actions that day, and actually behind everything he'd ever done, before discovering his great-grandfather's headband and especially since then, had been his belief in love and his promotion of loving relationships. It was because of that personal belief that he'd made Love the First Precept of the Fane of Universal Communion. That was true and all-encompassing love, not the restricted love preached and practised by the established churches or by present society. It was the full spiritual and physical love between a mother and son like the love between himself and his mother and between Anthony and his mother; the love between a father and daughter like the love between Anthony's father and his daughter Angelina; the love between a father and son like he had established between Calvin Cosher and his son Caitlin and between Stewart Millburne and his son Mark, between Warren Dawson and his son Davey, the Freeman brothers with their sons, and Julius and his sons Anton and Francois; the love between a brother and sister like between Stacey and Colin Cosher; the love between cousins like between Nick and Davey Dawson; and the love between uncle and nephew like between Nick and his uncle Warren and between Ramon and his uncle Raphael. Ramon Carlos was the quintessence of love, loving spiritually and physically not only his uncle but also his father, mother, grandmother, aunts, sisters, brothers, cousins and countless friends, and had recently been selected the Prefect of the Congregation for Devine Love, responsible for developing all doctrines involving love for the Fane of Universal Communion.

Most of all, Cory had used his headband to promote that most cherished and denigrated love of all, boy love, in all of its forms. That meant the love between teens and preteen boys like the spiritual and physical love his good buddy Anthony felt for Benji Gilles, his nine and a half month old sons Isaiah and Matthew, and Mark Millburne; and the love between older and younger teens like the love Kenneth Ballard and Kurt Jennings felt for Dominic Halder. It meant the love between men and teens like the love between Bob Moser and the Spudder brothers, between Adrian Bone and his student Dylan Ingles, between Ishaq Khan and Alistair Simms, and between Earl Thompson and Eddie Fairchild and the boy whores at Eli's place; and it meant the love between men and preteens like the love Harrison Byford and Earl Thompson had for the cubs from Rancho Santa Ana and the love Earl Thompson and men like him had for cute young boys in the city's playgrounds and parks.

Unlike most religious leaders and politicians, Cory practised what he preached, both as the First Apostle of fuc and in his personal life as a fourteen-year-old boy. That was the type of person he was, as were his father and mother, his father's father, and from what he could tell from his journal, his mother's grandfather. Honesty in actions and words was not the only thing that ran in his family, as he discovered reading his great-grandfather's journal.

"Thursday, November 26, 1964. This Thanksgiving Day I have celebrated like no other Thanksgiving I have ever celebrated, or will ever celebrate again. Some would hail me for bringing enlightenment and that most majestic of pleasures to a young innocent. Others would stone me for being a sexual deviate and corrupting a pure, naive young mind. I suspect my son would lead the latter group and would have me hung by balls from the tree in his front yard for the young innocent I refer to is his son, my grandson Michael, a tall, handsome, big-boned, thirteen-year-old farm lad with the square chin and flaming red hair and blue-green eyes of the McFarlane's. A good four inches [10 cm] taller than other boys his age and twenty pounds [10 kg] heavier, all solid muscle, he is a strong lad and could easily be mistaken to be three or four years older than he is were it not for the sparkle in those eyes and his youthful, boyish face. I confess that at this point in time I myself do not know which side would be right, if I have been cursed or if I have been blessed.

"The day began much like any other Thanksgiving Day, or any other day for that matter. I arose at seven as has been my habit even as a child, and after seeing to my toilette and breakfast, I continued to read the new book by Professor Fenn on the dolmen along the River Boyne in Ireland, a fascinating study but unfortunately the new information so far shedding no light on the headband I found so long ago as a lad. I took a light lunch in anticipation of the spread my daughter-in-law would be putting on later in the day and laid down for a nap after my repast, finding with advancing age it impossible to remain awake much past eight in the evenings if I don't do so. My nephew Donnell picked me up at three sharp as appointed and took me over to my son and daughter-in-law's for the traditional family feast. The usual clan were there, and the usual clan were not, including my oldest son Mackenzie and his wife and children, his wife insisting they spend every major holiday with her family and my spineless son saying not a word in protest, and my brother's daughter Eunice who graced us with her presence for half an hour before going on to whatever gala event she and her rich husband were going to. I didn't bother paying attention as to the name.

"I had almost left the headband at home, but at the last moment decided to wear it despite the embarrassed looks I knew I'd get from the host of the day, my second oldest son Patrick, and that look of sympathy from my daughter's know-it-all husband who figured I was becoming senile, and for some reason along with my mental retardation, deaf as he'd made the accusation often enough within my hearing. Actually knowing I would irritate the two of them was part of the motivation for wearing the silly thing. I could not help myself. As one advances in age and the vultures begin to circle with their covetous eyes on choice belongings in anticipation of one's demise, it is helpful, not to mention entertaining, to be able to read the truth in their minds. If they only knew how ridiculous their pandering was when one could read what they were really thinking.

"But this entry is not to bemoan the ignorance and greed of my family as I've documented in detail elsewhere in this journal. The meal was lavish as anticipated, my daughter-in-law being a superb cook, and well worth the torture of listening to the inane prattle of my relatives, most of which had nothing to do with what was really on their minds. The women, as usual, were catty and jealous of each other, and the men all tried to outdo each other, also as usual. The only one among all of them that had any simple and honest thoughts was Patrick's son Michael, the thirteen-year-old eyeing his cousin Jenny, two years his senior, out of the corner of his eye and admiring her breasts and wondering if she put out, glancing at his cousin Tommy, who was the same age as he was, and wondering if he knew about the big secret of jacking off and what his dick looked like, and in moments of boredom glancing at each of the boys and men gathered around the table and idly imagining each of them naked. His image of me was not very complementary and got my Irish temper up, but his picture of sagging old man breasts and wrinkled skin I have to sadly admit was accurate, though the shrivelled, shrunken member between my legs and the withered empty sack below it that he imagined I possessed was an insult to my manhood and to me as the patriarch of the family. I considered making him burp or fart or have the irresistible urge to scratch himself where a cultured man would never scratch or to fiddle with himself there at the supper table or some like embarrassing and humiliating action, but they were all typical teenage behaviours that would be passed off and fail to humiliate him to the extent I felt he deserved. Besides, a much better idea came to my mind, one that would punish him for such disrespectful thoughts and correct his misperceptions about me, and which would bring me some pleasure and make what was promising to be a particularly boring and wasted evening at least amusing.

"So I played on his thoughts about his two cousins and telegraphed him the thought of jacking off, and of course being a typical thirteen-year-old boy, he readily picked up on the ideas I transmitted and squirmed uncomfortably in his chair as he popped a boner as a result, an embarrassing and amusing side effect I had not considered. It wasn't difficult to have him imagine being masturbated by Jenny, and then he and Tommy doing each other. Of course he tried to resist the thoughts, not because they were not appealing to him, but because he was desperate to be rid of his embarrassing condition before he had to get up from the table and such thoughts were just making it harder, pun intended. That resistance was easily overcome in that as a thirteen-year-old he found such thoughts irresistible, and it was a simple matter to have him imagine the rest of the family, male and female, reaching under the table to engage in that secret, solitary vice. By the time we were finished dessert, it was surprising I hadn't had him 'creaming his jeans' as the young people say.

"The men headed to the living room for an after supper drink and smoke and to watch the game while the women headed to the kitchen to clean up the dishes and gossip and the children headed to the family room to play games under the supervision of the elder children. Considering his state of mind, it was easy to transmit a mental suggestion to Michael that he sneak off to his bedroom to take care of what he was trying to conceal behind clasped hands held tightly in front of his crotch. I waited for a minute, and then slipping up the stairs unnoticed, I opened the door and stepped into his room prepared with the explanation that I was tired and his father had suggested I go upstairs and lay down in the master bedroom and I had mistaken his room for his parent's. Of course I found the boy spanking the monkey with his jeans and briefs about his thighs. His face red with embarrassment and shame, he grabbed his pants and underwear and drew them up but not before I'd had a good look at his package and what he was doing. His look of embarrassment quickly turned to one of apprehension and mortification when it was obvious to him I'd caught him in the act.

"My first mission accomplished, having embarrassed and humiliated him for his unflattering image of me, I quickly allayed those fears, explaining my presence and apologising for having interrupted him, and telling him that I had no objections to what he was doing and in fact had done the same when I was a boy his age, and had continued to practice the solitary vice as a young man and as a husband and father, and still did on occasion. Having been told it was wrong by his father and something dirty and secret by his classmates, my confession and positive view regarding the practice came as a surprise, and a relief to him. In his youthful innocence and natural curiosity, he invited me to join him, as I had hoped he would, and to his surprise I said I would. Sitting up and moving over, he made room for me on his narrow bed and I dropped my trousers and boxers and sat down beside him. We talked as I began to fiddle with myself and as he pushed his pants and underwear back down and began to play with his young cock which had softened in his embarrassment and likely because all the blood had rushed to his cheeks. We talked about masturbation mostly, the boy full of questions as are most boys and full of many misconceptions besides. It was not long before we were both erect. I removed my hand to give him a good look at my cock, achieving my second mission, correcting his misconception of what I had hidden in my trousers.

"I had not considered what I'd do beyond that point and had vaguely thought we'd complete the act and that would be that. However, seeing the interest and the curiosity in his eyes, on the spur of the moment I offered to let him feel mine, saying that he must be wondering what an eighty-year-old man's felt like, and what it would be like to hold a member the size of mine. I did not need a headband to know that. It was evident from the look on his face, and having been cursed, or blessed depending on how you look at it, as a young teenager with teleiophilia, sexual interest and arousal in adults, those had certainly been my thoughts at his age. I've always had an interest in older men my entire life, but I have of course satisfied my baser carnal needs with younger males besides, more and more frequently as I've grown older, not out of a change in sexual interests, but because finding men twenty to thirty years older than myself has become more and more difficult with the passing of the years.

"Those exciting and pleasurable first experiences as a thirteen-year-old with my first lover, the carpenter Connor O'Dell who had employed me as his assistant in the summer of 1897, and then a year later with our village priest, shaped my attitudes toward sex at an early age. Remembering those feelings and experiences as vividly as if they were yesterday, on this Thanksgiving Day I was determined to make Michael's first experience with an adult, for he'd confessed he'd never done anything with anyone before, just as memorable and as positive. So I encouraged him to feel my member and to examine it closely and to try doing it to me, and he took me up on my offer. I did not need my headband to encourage him to wrap his fingers about my stiff cock, the boy's natural curiosity overcoming the guilt and self-loathing already planted in his fertile young mind. Nor had I used my headband to influence him to make me the same offer, the boy being curious what it would feel like to have someone else doing him as he'd so often done himself and being naturally daring as are all McFarlane men.

"I cannot begin to describe how erotic and arousing it was to have my young grandson wrap his hot, young fingers about my stiff, throbbing cock and to bend over and examine my towering member and hairy nut sac, and despite having had it stroked thousands of times, how horny I felt as his young, inexperienced fingers began to stroke it. Nor can I adequately describe how aroused I became as I wrapped my fingers about his young, slender cock, already an impressive five inches [13 cm] long despite having just recently turned thirteen, and slowly began to masturbate him, knowing that I was the first individual to engage in that secret vice with him, the first man to see and to touch his most private and treasured part. Of course that he was well hung came as no surprise, all McFarlane men being generously endowed and Michael being a large-boned, strapping youth taller and more muscular than most boys his age.

"Advising him there were other ways two men can please each other as we lay there stroking each other, I was surprised the boy already knew about oral and anal congress although having experienced neither, and at his tender age had wondered what it would feel like to do both, both as the one doing the action to another, and as the one having it done to him. I of course told the boy if he ever wanted to try either act and as either the active or passive partner, he need only contact me and I'd willingly engage in the act with him, and that if he found whatever we were doing not to his liking, including what we were presently doing, that would be all right and we could stop whenever he wanted. He assured me he was quite enjoying what we were presently doing, which I'd deduced from the way he was willingly and eagerly stroking my member and his obvious pleasure in having his stroked by myself.

"We sat there in silence and enjoyed our mutual masturbation and when he announced he was about to cum I introduced him to one of the delaying tactics I'd learned and had him perform it also on me. Asking him a few minutes later if he wished to continue, he asked me if I'd ever engaged in oral sex, and when I replied that I had on many occasions, both as the one doing the sucking and as the one being sucked, and that I had been his age my first time and it had actually been the first act I'd ever engaged in with an adult, he commented that he'd often wondered what it would be like to be sucked, and to be the sucker and asked if it tasted as bad as he thought it would.

"I replied that at least for myself I didn't find the taste of the male appendage nor of semen offensive though many men would reply that they did, and that there was only one way for him to know for himself. It was obvious what the boy was debating, but I said nothing, wanting the question to come from him so it could not be said later that I'd coerced the boy, and in fact I removed my headband to ensure I exerted no undue influence. He hesitated, and then cautiously observed that he wouldn't mind trying it being done to him, though he wasn't sure of the other way around. Again reminding him that if he didn't like it that was all right and that I'd stop, I assumed the sixty-nine position there on his narrow bed and grasping his slender cock at the base I went down on him. I knew at his age he would have a sensitive trigger so I went slowly and tried to avoid stimulating the rim of his glans, concentrating instead on working my lips only up and down his shaft and sucking on his throbbing member gently. I did not need the headband nor to see his face to know the pleasure he was feeling. The throbbing of his member and his erratic, laboured breathing as I bobbed my head up and down and sucked on his delicious, slender wiener were evidence of his enjoyment. He squirmed and shifted in his excitement and pleasure, and I could feel his hot breath blowing against my stomach as I sucked harder and began to slip my lips up and down the length of the boy's young cock from the hairy base up and over his sensitive knob which lay exposed with his foreskin stretched back.

"Feeling the mattress give with the shifting of his weight as the boy stretched and feeling his hot breath descending to my pubes, I curved my body slightly, not having to curl that much the boy being at least four inches taller than most boys his age. As I had suspected was his intent, he slipped his thumb and first two fingers about the base of my rigid cock and raised it up as he slowly bowed his head and tentatively pressed his smooth, moist lips against the knob of my organ. Encouraged, he began to go down but he suddenly gagged and withdrew, whether because he could not breathe with the large, swollen knob of my member in his mouth or out of reflex as he thought of the perversity and filthiness of the act he was attempting to perform I do not know.

"Telling him it was all right and to breathe through his nose and to try again, and to go slowly so he could get used to the idea and to the feel of my member in his mouth, I hoped he would be encouraged and would take my advice. To my joy once again I felt the youngster's smooth lips press against the head of my prick. He went slowly as I'd advised and I encouraged him to take all the time he needed. He did, and ever so gradually his mouth slipped over my glans until he had my knob in his mouth. He paused, and I felt the pressure about my knob increase as he began to suck. The thought of my thirteen-year-old grandson laying there in his bed with a man's dick in his mouth for the first time in his life and receiving his first ever blowjob while the family partied downstairs was so erotic I leaked a droplet of pre-cum and my memories of my first taste of that sweet nectar practically had me shooting off my load.

"The boy had evidently enjoyed the taste of my initial droplet of love juice and was clearly enjoying sucking cock for the first time from the way his young cock throbbed in my mouth and from the zeal with which he began sucking on my throbbing member. I resumed sucking his young prick and slipping my lips up and down the throbbing flesh and he began to work his lips up and down over my knob as he kept up the suction. The bed creaked with the weight of the two of us as we shifted our weight and squirmed with the pleasure throbbing through our swollen cocks, and as our passions grew so did the wet sounds of slurping and swallowing and the music of lustful snorting as we sucked and blew the sex-laden air through our nostrils. Those were the sounds of pure sex and pleasure. If only the world would let young boys enjoy their virility and those natural, God-given urges that flow through a young boy's veins, and let older men share in that youthful vigour and joy, this would be a much better world.

"I paused to let our passions cool and to prolong our pleasure, and to inform the boy I would let him know when I was about to cum, and that he had the options of finishing the job with his hand or with his lips, and if he chose the latter, that he had the option of swallowing my seed, collecting it in his mouth and spitting it out later, or directing it into a handkerchief or whatever he might have handy. We then resumed sucking each other's cock, the perversity and the beauty of a thirteen-year-old boy sucking and being sucked by his eighty-year-old grandfather not lost on either of us. It was the boy who was the first to warn that he was about to come, and I eagerly drank down the boy's sweet seed as it spurted out of his throbbing organ. Being young, his load was copious and thin and fruity and I drank it eagerly as the boy shuddered and groaned with the pleasure of his release, his hot breath snorting through his nose and blasting my tight, swollen balls as he sucked desperately and eagerly on my cock. His juice still oozing out of his swollen organ and his breathing still deep and laboured, I warned him I was going to cum and I was delighted when the boy made no move to remove his lips. Seconds later I was filling the mouth of my young grandson with my thick seed, and the boy eagerly began to gulp down my thick, slimy offering. I hadn't shot such a thick and copious load for months, and it had been a long time since I'd derived such exquisite pleasure from an ejaculation.

"From the look of gratitude and pleasure in his eyes as we sat up later and glanced at each other, and from his wide, infectious grin, his lips moist with my seed and with the taste of his teenage cock and hot sweet cum in my mouth, I knew that despite what others might think, I had done the right thing."

Cory had read that entry so many times he practically had it memorized. Although he'd never known his great-grandfather, he'd heard plenty of stories about him from his mother and her brothers and sisters. His uncle, his mother's brother, lived in Alaska where he had a trap line and ran a hunting and fishing guide business so he didn't really know him, having only met him on special occasions like the funeral of his grandfather and the wedding of someone whose name he couldn't remember and one holiday back when Cory was six or seven when his uncle had spent some of it in California. Cory had taken an instant liking to him, the man having a streak of playful deviltry and that passion for life that young boys in particular admired, and some wild and fascinating stories about his life up north. After reading his great-grandfather's entry, he was sorry he hadn't gotten to know him even closer. The idea of his great-grandfather and his uncle getting each other off in his bedroom while the rest of the family was downstairs was hot, and especially since his uncle had only been thirteen and his great-grandfather eighty. He'd occasionally imagined the two of them when he jerked one off alone and fantasized about he and his uncle messing around.

Then seven months ago his uncle had written to say he had some promotional business to do in Seattle for his guide business and that he and his family had arranged a couple extra days to come down to Riverside for a visit as his business meeting was coincidently, and Cory thought most appropriately for him, just before the family gathering at Thanksgiving. His mother of course was excited to be seeing her oldest brother and her nieces and nephews, Michael now fifty-four and having two daughters ages twenty-four and eighteen, and three sons, sixteen, twenty-one, and twenty-six, the oldest married and with a four-year-old son. His father was excited too, he and his brother-in-law sharing an interest in nature, wildlife, and photography. Cory was likely the most excited, not just because of having fond memories of his uncle, but because of having read about him in his great-grandfather's journal. Over the following six weeks he'd played out various scenarios in his mind as to where, when, and how he might raise the topic of his uncle's experience with Great-grandfather Isaiah and what the two of them might do if he was able to get his uncle alone with just him, and he had debated whether to use his headband for assistance or not. When the day finally arrived, he still had not decided on which scenario would be best nor if he should wear the headband. He was desperate enough to want to learn more about the relationship they'd had and especially more about his great-grandfather, and curious enough to want to have sex with his uncle, to use the headband but like his great-grandfather, he wanted whatever might develop between him and his uncle to be natural and without any undue influence. In the end, as was often the case, what happened wasn't anything like he'd planned.

He'd had Sangha drop him off a block away from his parent's home, not wanting to flash around his new wealth nor embarrass his parents with difficult to answer questions. Although they were keeping it no secret that he had moved out and was living with the mother of his twin boys, at that time four months of age, they were not broadcasting it either, knowing that not everyone in their family was as progressive and open-minded as they were. For the same reason they were keeping their own new love interests quiet. For a husband and wife to be in love with and to be having sexual relations with sixteen-year-old twin brothers would be difficult to accept in the most liberal of families!

Cory had decided to wear his headband but had resolved not to use it regarding any sexual involvement with his uncle, having made a firm decision that if anything happened between the two of them it would be natural. Nor had he planned on using it to eavesdrop on his relatives' thoughts though that could be as revealing and as entertaining as it had been for his great-grandfather forty-one years ago. Rather, the reason he'd decided to wear the band was because he figured it might be a good conversation starter with his uncle regarding the questions he had about his great-grandfather.

Upon seeing him, his uncle had obviously recognized the band and was clearly surprised and throughout the afternoon and the Thanksgiving supper he kept glancing over at him. Cory wondered just how much his uncle knew about the powers of the headband and was beginning to wonder if wearing it had been such a good idea. All he had to go on was his great-grandfather's journal, and his great-grandfather could have been dead wrong about how his grandson had felt about their experience. The last thing he wanted to do was to upset his uncle or scare him off. After supper, which was delicious as his mother's suppers always were just like her mother's, the men retired to the living room to watch the football game and the women gathered in the kitchen while the younger kids were ushered downstairs to play, just like in his great-grandfather's day Cory observed. He was half tempted to go up to his former bedroom and drop his pants and underwear and see if his uncle followed him.

"That's an unusual headband you have there," his uncle observed in a low voice as the two of them headed for the living room with the other men and older boys. "Where did you get it?"

"It was in a bunch of stuff we were sorting out after my grandfather died," Cory replied. "It belonged to my great-grandfather Isaiah McFarlane."

"I figured it had to be the one and the same. I've never seen anything like it before or since I've seen Granddad McFarlane with it."

"Do you know much about it?" Cory dared to ask as he paused at the stairs and stepped into the stairway to let his other relatives pass.

"Not much," his uncle replied as he stepped into the stairway also. "My grandfather wore it all the time, much to the chagrin and embarrassment of some of my relatives, including my father, your grandfather, who thought poor old granddad was entering his second childhood. I noticed some of the relatives giving you some queer looks too," he added with a chuckle.

"Yeah, I get that," Cory grinned, clearly not concerned about what others thought, just like his great-grandfather his uncle noted. "And was he entering his second childhood, your granddad?"

"Far from it. He was the most astute, sharp-minded man I've ever known, right up to his last day."

"So, did he talk about the headband much?"

"Oh yes. He said he'd discovered it in a peat bog forest while cutting peat for his parent's hearth when he was thirteen. He figured it was a sixth century druid headband and spent much of his life researching the druids and trying to find out more about it. It was a real obsession for him, and at times he said he figured it was cursed, and him too," Michael observed with a smile. "Other times he said finding it had been a blessing."

"Did he say why he thought it was a blessing? Or a curse?"

"No, not really."

"I don't really know much about him," Cory said honestly, "or about this headband." That was sort of true. "You mind telling me about him, unless you wanna go watch the game."

"No, I've never been one to sit around watching TV. I'd love to tell you about him."

So they went up to Cory's former bedroom where in one of his scenarios he'd hoped they'd end up. If his uncle noticed it didn't appear to be lived in with its uncharacteristic neatness and the absence of any personal stuff a fourteen-year-old boy would have in his room he didn't show it. His uncle and Isaiah evidently had a close relationship and for the next two hours his uncle talked about the things they'd done together when he was a teenage boy and later as a young man. Isaiah may have been politically incorrect, prejudiced on numerous counts, and chauvinistic to an extreme, but he also had a brilliant mind and a kind, sympathetic heart, and was quite a prankster and had a real zeal for life from some of the things Michael said about him. Cory figured some of the pranks Isaiah pulled, like giving one of Michael's all-around hated teachers a bad crotch itch during their grade nine graduation, and irritating a crotchety old neighbour until he mooned them, just when a cop car drove by, had to have involved use of the headband but at no time did Michael give any hint about knowing its powers. Nor, Cory noticed, did he mention anything sexual between the two of them.

"At one time he considered leaving me his headband in his will," Michael observed, glancing at the band on Cory's head.

"He did?" Cory asked in surprise. "But he didn't do it?" Michael shook his head. "Why not?"

"Like I said, as much as I loved him, your great-grandfather was a moody old duck, and a strange one besides, and he'd on more than one occasion figured the headband was cursed. In a long and rambling letter-the old man did ramble on like nobody else I've ever known-he said I was too happy with a new wife and a new baby son, my oldest, Shawn, having just been born at that time, to be saddled with the responsibilities and addicted to the arcane powers of the headband and he was going to take it back to Ireland and bury it where he'd found it. He'd buried it once before here in America but had dug it up again. Anyway, he never had a chance to take it back. He died a month after he'd written the letter shortly after his ninety-fifth birthday, a few days after he'd returned from Ireland."

"You and him must have been pretty close," Cory hinted.

"Oh yes, very," Michael replied, a smile coming to his lips as he obviously thought back to happy days.

"And he went to Ireland at the age of ninety-five?"

"Oh yes. He wasn't senile. His mind was sharp and his body wiry and strong right up to the end."

"I hear when a guy gets older there's some things he can't do, like, you know, guy things," Cory observed. "You know, things like what sometimes happens to a guy at the most embarrassing and inconvenient times."

"Not granddad Isaiah," Michael said with a knowing smile. "In fact what you mentioned happened to him on his ninetieth birthday, and probably continued to right up to his ninety-fifth," he observed with a chuckle. Having made a special trip from Alaska for his grandfather's ninetieth, he'd observed first hand the old man popping a boner as he'd stood to blow out his candles, and the two of them had ended up sixty-nining in his bedroom while the others were enjoying his cake in the living room. That was the last time they'd had sex together.

So strong was Michael's memory of that event Cory picked up the thoughts without even trying with his headband and having discovered what he had he seized on the opportunity. "I heard he liked guys, and young boys."

"Where did you hear that?" Michael asked sharply, his mood suddenly turning to one of anger, self-defence and guilt, all accented by Cory's receptiveness from using the headband.

"I dunno, I think maybe it was something Grandpa said, my grandpa, your dad," Cory said, quickly thinking on his feet. "It was a long time ago and I just sortta overheard it in a conversation with someone. I don't remember who. I was pretty little."

"It was probably Dad's brother, Mackenzie, who said it. He was a disappointment in my granddad's eyes and there was no love lost between the two of them."

"Yeah, that's who it was," Cory lied, grateful for the solution and glad he'd read about his great-grandfather's feelings about his oldest son, who sounded like a real snot. "Your dad was defending your grandpa, that's what it was. Not that it matters to me if he liked boys. He must have liked women too to have had kids," Cory rambled, trying to appease his uncle for the comment that had obviously upset him, but at the same time letting him know he himself had no problems with man-boy sex.

"Actually, Granddad had teleiophilia."

"What's that?" Cory asked, pretending ignorance.

"When a boy likes older men," his uncle replied, adding after a moment's pause, 'sexually'. He loved his grandfather and no matter what others thought he wouldn't have his grandfather's desires dirtied by keeping them secret or treating them as if they were bad.

"That's cool."

"You think so?" Michael asked, raising an eyebrow in surprise.

"Sure. I like to mess around with old guys. Course, I just like messing around, you know?" Cory observed with a twinkle and suggestive look in his eyes.

Michael laughed. "Yeah, I know. Must run in the family, liking to mess around, and liking older guys."

"Have you messed around with an older guy?" Cory asked, again feigning innocence.

"Oh yes," Michael replied with another smile, thinking back to his first time, and the many times since with Isaiah.

"What about younger guys?" Cory asked, obviously offering.

"That too," Michael said, his smile widening with Cory's blatant hint. The young, he observed to himself, can be so obvious, and so honest and open. Working on the oil rigs in the frozen north and separated from wives and women for long periods of time, men took on a different attitude about sex with other men. Michael had developed that open attitude himself years ago as a young teenager, and it served him well in the north, also having to be away from his wife and from women for extended periods of time tending his trap line or taking rich guys from the south hunting and fishing. He'd had his share of warm nights in the frigid north with horny young oil workers, and with the occasional young Eskimo boy, the Eskimoes also having a sensible, liberal attitude when it came to such pleasure.

"Cool," Cory said, his smile widening also as he reached over and placed a hand on his uncle's broad, muscular thigh.

A thrill of desire beginning at his dickhead shot up Michael's dick and through his groin, the result not of the mysterious headband, but of the simple touch of a fourteen-year-old's hot, slender jerkoff hand on his thigh. Cory felt the ache in his cock and loins also, an ache familiar to the fourteen-year-old and to all teenage boys. As he began to caress his uncle's thigh, his uncle placed a large, meaty hand on his slender thigh and began to caress it too. Slowly Michael slipped his hand over to clutch his nephew's crotch and his tension and desire grew with the feel of teenage heat and the throbbing of youthful lust. As Cory pulled down his uncle's fly and slipped his slender fingers inside to wrap them about the bulge in his warm, damp underwear, he was delighted to feel the flesh stir and begin to swell.

Unbuckling each other's belt and pushing each other's trousers and underwear down, the two began to caress each other in earnest, Cory's young, slender fingers cupping his uncle's large, pendulous, hairy balls, unable to hold both in his palm, and rolling the huge, sensitive eggs in the man's wrinkled sac while his uncle's large, fat fingers gently wrapped about the boy's slender but swelling cock and began to tug on it, his large jackoff hand tugging on the young prick as it had been tugging on his own cock for the past forty plus years. He delighted in feeling his young nephew swelling in his hand and his own cock quickly responded in a like manner. His strong, muscular fingers were soon wrapped around an impressive, thick organ longer and thicker than that of many men, an endowment inherited through both the Wilson and McFarlane genes, and the boy's slender, hot fingers were similarly wrapped about a monster cock befitting the big, six-foot-six [1.98 m], two-hundred-and-sixty pound [118 kg] trapper and guide and passed down through the McFarlane genes.

Lying down on their sides on Cory's narrow bed in opposite directions, the two reached out and grasping each other's delightful, swollen blood sausage they began to lick and savour that exquisite, flavourful flesh. Pulling back Cory's foreskin, Michael ran his hot, wet tongue along the ridge of his blood-engorged, mushroom-shaped glans, sending thrills of arousal and painful pleasure through the fourteen-year-old's knob and up his rock-hard shaft. Cory did likewise, pulling back the fold of skin and marvelling at his uncle's large, bulbous knob the size, shape and colour of a large plum before swirling his tongue around it as if licking an ice cream cone. They inhaled the unique meaty fragrance of each other's cock and closed their eyes with delight and anticipation as they opened their mouths wide and went down on each other.

Michael went all the way down on Cory despite the teenager's exceptional size and began to deep throat him, sending new pleasures through the already experienced boy's cock. Cory sucked gently on his uncle's large knob and basted it with his saliva which he spread over the turgid flesh with the tip of his tongue before sucking it off and swallowing it. He trembled with delight as his uncle slipped his lips up his shaft until only the tip of his cock remained in his mouth and he teased the opening with the tip of his tongue, drawing up a dollop of sweet teenage pre-cum. Michael quivered with delight as he felt the tip of his nephew's tongue teasing the underside of his cock, running up and down the groove under his knob, and as a thick dollop of clear pre-cum oozed out of the burning tip of his cock he was delighted to feel his nephew's tongue eagerly lap it up.

The fifty-four-year-old trapper and guide taught his young nephew those and many other new tricks learned from years of experience with young, horny roughnecks in the far north and from horny, eager, slant-eyed Eskimo boys who were taught from infancy how to please the older men of their tribe on long, lonely seal-hunting trips away from female companionship. The fourteen-year-old grade nine student showed his uncle that he was no novice when it came to sucking cock, showing him new techniques he had learned from the Internet and from his own experiences, and he pleasured the older man with as much skill as any experienced roustabout or devoted Eskimo son and with the zeal and openness of a horny fourteen-year-old boy.

The boylover and the manlover took their time, savouring each delightful moment to the fullest, bringing each other to that delightful, powerful peak and then letting each other descend only to bring them back to that peak, over and over like the crashing of waves upon the ocean, each approach of that ultimate peak coming closer and closer together and each one more demanding and more urgent that the previous. That he was sucking the cock of his younger sister's son, and that his younger sister's son was sucking his was not lost on Michael and made what they were doing all the hotter. Similarly for Cory, that he was sucking the cock of his mother's brother, and that his mother's brother was sucking his cock, and that he was sucking the same cock as his great-grandfather had added to the eroticism and pleasure of what they were doing.

Even with their skill and their desire to please each other, they could not postpone the inevitable forever. There was no communication between them as they approached that peak for the last time, the two knowing instinctively that they had delayed as long as they could and to try to do so any longer would be torment, not pleasure. And so they slipped their lips up and down each other's swollen, aching cock, sucking hungrily in anticipation, their balls swollen and drawn up tight under their stiff, throbbing cocks. As their swollen flesh went numb, their minds began to spin as if deprived of oxygen, and considering the inflation and throbbing of their blood-engorged cocks perhaps their minds were.

The two came together so in sync they were with each other. The teenage boy's balls constricted, shooting his hot, thick teenage cum into the eager mouth of his uncle as the fifty-four-year-old man's massive, swollen balls constricted and shot forth his thick, hot seed into the mouth of his hungry nephew. The two swallowed each other's unique mushroom-flavoured gunk, delighting in its slimy texture and raw, masculine taste. Shot after shot of rich, thick cum erupted from the two perspiring, snorting cocksuckers, their bodies arched with tension, their minds swirling with the ecstasy of their powerful ejaculations and the higher pleasure of having brought that pleasure to the other. Locked in that profane embrace, clutching each other's naked buttocks and their cheeks sunken in as they sucked on each other's throbbing, spurting organ, uncle and nephew eagerly sucked out each other's life-giving juices, draining each other's hairy, swollen balls.

It had been awesome, and barely a night went by in the ensuing months that Cory didn't recall the pleasure they had shared that Thanksgiving evening. It was more than that he and his mother's brother had sex together, more than the superior cocksucking skill of uncle and nephew, and more than that he had sucked the same cock as his great-grandfather. Those factors had made it unique, but it had been awesome because it had occurred with openness and willingness and honesty, and out of love for each other. Cory knew even at the tender age of fourteen that sex was the most pleasurable when engaged in with love. Sex between himself and Dominic, between himself and Ben, and between himself and his buddies Anthony and Terry had all been awesome, each in its own special way, and all because of the love they felt for each other.

He could not understand why there was such a taboo and moral outrage about that most forbidden love of all, the love between a boy and his parents. There was nothing more special and wholesome than the love between a parent and child. He had been engaging in that forbidden relationship with his mother for almost a year and a half now, ever since that December the thirtieth afternoon three-way when he, Dominic and his mother had sex with each other. Even after he'd moved out and after his mother had become involved with Darien Wilson the two still got it on on occasion. It was the first Sunday of the following December that he'd consummated that special love between himself and his father, ten days after he and his uncle Michael had gotten it on.

Sangha was driving him back to the Estate from the residence of Bishop Henry that Sunday morning, after having spent two hours tormenting the good bishop with a lurid wet dream in which the boys choir had surrounded the bishop and given him a golden shower and then had jerked off all over him, ideas that he'd gotten from two bukkake slash stories about the teen pop singer Aaron Carter by Authorsix that he'd read at the Nifty Archives. The session had ended with the bishop sticky and distraught and himself with a raging boner. Feeling particularly pleased with himself, he'd decided to join his parents for Sunday morning brunch, his father traditionally serving up crisp, fired bacon, chilled apple juice, and a stack of blueberry pancakes Sunday mornings. He'd arrived to find his father in his pajamas just about to begin breakfast and that his mother had gone Christmas shopping with her sister the day before and had decided to stay overnight at her house and visit with her.

"I see you haven't lost your appetite, or your sweet tooth," Matt Wilson observed with a grin as he watched Cory load up his plate with his third helping of pancakes and drench them with syrup.

"I see you haven't lost yours either," Cory observed with a broad smile as his father reached for his third helping, "nor your pancake baking skills."

Having a healthy appetite and a love for sweets were not the only things the two had in common. They enjoyed camping and fishing and had taken many trips together and they both had an appreciation of nature though Cory couldn't work up the same enthusiasm over watching a dragonfly nymph turn into an adult as his father could. Cory admired and respected his father, especially his youthful and progressive thinking and his willingness to take risks, just as Matt Wilson admired his son's challenging of the establishment and his testing the boundaries just as he'd done as a boy. As a boy he had refused to be confined by the false rules and restrictive beliefs and mores of society and the church, often to his father's dismay and distress, and it was because of his father's reactions that he'd vowed to not be so narrow-minded in raising his own son.

"Flattery will get you everywhere," Matt Wilson joked. The two of them had a close, comfortable relationship, one that many fathers and sons would envy. The two of them sitting there at the kitchen table joking and laughing over bacon and blueberry pancakes was a Norman Rockwell moment.

"Thanks, but I don't really need anything," Cory replied with a smile, wiping the syrup from his lips with the back of his hand.

"You're happy living with the Gilles's?"

"Absolutely."

"And having the responsibility of raising a family?"

"Oh yeah! They're great boys. Life is great."

"I'm glad to hear that."

"You're still okay with that, aren't you? I mean me living with Antoinette and having the twins, and another baby on the way?"

"Of course. Your mother and I meant it when we said we were happy for you and supported your decision to move in with the Gilles's. We're very proud of your maturity and your acceptance of the responsibilities of fatherhood, and your decision to stay in school besides."

"And life's okay for the two of you?"

"Yes." Matt thought for a moment. "Actually, I'm glad that you've dropped by."

"Yeah? Why's that?" Cory asked as he reached for another strip of bacon.

"You know that your mother and I have been seeing quite a bit of the Wilson twins."

"Sure."

"And that we've become quite, well, fond of each other."

"Yeah."

"We've been thinking, your mom and I, of, well, maybe having Darien and Nat move in with us."

"Move in?"

Matt stared at his plate. "Share our bed," he said, looking up at his son.

"Isn't that going to be a bit crowded, the four of you in one bed?" Cory asked with an impish grin.

"Well, two beds. We're not that close," his father replied with a smile as he gave Cory a cuff on the back of the head. He was glad Cory was taking the idea so well.

"So, you and mom getting divorced and remarried or something?"

"Oh no. Your mom and I still love each other, very much. We haven't thought of getting divorced. We just, well, we 3;"

"Wanna screw the Wilson twins and each other too."

That was crude, but to the point, and typical thinking he'd come to expect from his fourteen-year-old son. "How would you feel about that?"

"That's cool."

"There's a big age difference between your mother and Darien, and between Nat and myself."

"I'm sure they can keep up with the two of you," Cory replied with a twinkle in his eyes.

Matt chuckled. He'd always been pleased with his son's sense of humour. "Seriously, what do you think about your dad having sex with someone of the same gender, and with someone just two years older than you?"

"That's cool. I got some friends who are bi. Don't matter to me if a guy is straight, bi or gay. And you and mom were cool about Antoinette and me."

Matt sighed with relief. He had figured Cory would be open minded about his and Marian's relationship with the Wilson boys, but then they were extreme. "Like I said, you are very mature," he said with pride. "Most boys your age are extremely homophobic. I'm sure most would go ape knowing their father was sleeping with someone of the same sex, and especially someone near their age."

"Go ape?"

"Been very upset."

"Oh. Have a cow."

"Yes."

"Well, that's their hangup," Cory said with a shrug. "Sex between two guys is very cool, or maybe I should say very hot, and a lot of fun," he added with a twinkle in his eyes.

"You've had sex with someone of your gender?"

"Sure."

"I suspected you might have."

"I've suspected you and Nat were an item too, for some time."

"An item?"

"Lovers."

"Oh. Well, looks like we were both right."

"I think that's the perfect way to be actually."

"What is?"

"To have a woman to love and to fuck and to make babies with, and a guy to love and rim and make out with."

"What do you know about rimming?" Matt asked with a surprised snort.

"Wanna find out?" Cory asked with a grin and a gleam in his eyes as he looked directly at his father.

"Yes," Matt responded without a moment's hesitation, the idea of the two of them having sex just seeming natural and right.

The two stood and stepping toward each other, they embraced, a warm, father and son hug, a hug between good friends who understood each other, and then they kissed, their lips meeting in a soft, tender kiss of love, the type of kiss a father gives his baby boy on the cheek and a baby returns anywhere, not yet having learned the taboos as to where a father and son can kiss. Inhaling deeply and more than a little nervously, they kissed a second, and a third and a fourth time, the fourth kiss more passionate than should be between a father and son. As their lips parted that fourth time, they looked into each other's eyes hesitantly, uncertainty and apprehension written on their faces. They had been told all their lives that what they were feeling toward each other at that moment was wrong. It was sinful and illegal and ranked right up there at the top of the most disgusting and depraved sexual acts that two individuals could perform in the eyes of the church and of society. Matt's eyes reflected his guilt, shame, and fear, fear what his son was thinking of him having such desires and thoughts, the result of thirty-nine years of indoctrination and brainwashing. Cory's own eyes reflected his own self-doubt and worry what his father was thinking of him having the feelings he was having. Even though he'd only had fourteen years of indoctrination, that poisoning of his mind was enough for him to question what he was feeling in his heart and between his legs.

Being young and daring and rewarded more frequently than not for pushing the arbitrary boundaries set by society, Cory fought those imposed, negative feelings and reached out and cupped his father's crotch, their eyes still linked. Feeling the familiar warmth of the cylinder of flesh inside his father's pajamas and receiving no objection, he wrapped his fingers about it and squeezed gently, only a thin layer of cotton between it and his hand. Having his headband would have made things a lot easier and part of him wished he hadn't taken it off and left it in the limo. The other part, the stronger half, was glad that he had. Just as he'd wanted with his uncle, he wanted whatever was going to happen between the two of them to be pure and honest, a decision that they shared, not one that he'd forced upon his father or even enhanced.

Taking his son's lead and still looking into his eyes, Matt reached out and slipped his hand between his son's legs, and feeling his partially swollen tube of flesh through his underwear and jeans, he curved his fingers about it and squeezed also. The instant swelling of that flesh was accompanied by a swelling of his own, and that and the look of pleasure and smoldering lust in his teenage son's eyes affirmed that he had made the right decision just as the swelling of his flesh and the look of desire and pleasure in his eyes affirmed for Cory that he'd taken the right action. Lowering his eyes as he slipped his fingers inside the fly of his father's pajamas and wrapped his fingers about his father's semi-erect cock, he extracted it and began to stroke it, gently and lovingly. As his son began to stroke his flaccid cock, Matt glanced down as he pulled down the zipper in his son's jeans, and slipping his fingers inside the fly of his pants and inside the fly of his briefs, he guided the boy's swelling organ out through the openings.

His eyes on his son's cock, he slowly drew back his foreskin, revealing his reddish-purple mushroom-shaped cap and causing him to tense with the pleasure of having his knob exposed. He trembled with arousal and excitement himself as he felt Cory slowly pealing back his own foreskin, drawing it back off his own mushroom-shaped knob and stretching it all the way down. His mind flashed back to the day his older brother Art had slipped his fingers about his limp cock and had done the same, the day his brother had taught him how to jerk off and the day he'd held another boy's cock in his hand for the first time and had drawn back his skin. Now his cock was being held by his own son and it was swelling with arousal as it had when his brother had first held it, and his son's cock was swelling in his own hand just as had his brother's. This was not, however, a matter of a young boy revealing the secret of jacking off to another, or of two horny boys messing around, common occurrences though even in this day few would admit it. This was a father and a son fiddling with each other's dick, the greatest taboo and filthiest act there was, and the hottest, most erotic thing he'd ever done.

Inhaling nervously as he unbuckled his son's belt and unsnapped his jeans, more nervous and anxious than even that first time with his older brother, Matt pushed down his son's jeans and then his briefs, pushing them off his hips and turning them inside out as he pushed them down and off his semi-erect dick. Placing his hands on his father's shoulders for balance as his father crouched down and pulled off his socks and continued to draw down his jeans and underwear, Cory stepped out of them with his father's help and as his father stood he unbuttoned and removed his shirt and dropped it there on the kitchen floor to stand there naked and unashamed in front of his father, all doubt and guilt stripped away with his clothing.

Matt admired his son. At five-foot-two and a hundred and five pounds his lithe body was trim and muscular, being athletically active and still a growing boy at the brink of his growth spurt offsetting the rich meals he was eating. His chest, arms and legs were firm but still boyishly contoured, lacking the angularity and definition that would soon come with adolescence, and still smooth and hairless except for the thick bush of curly, reddish-brown hair that matched the thick, tousled hair on his head. He was darkly tanned and lacked any tan line, his smooth, compact buttocks the same dark tan as his chest. He was a handsome boy, having his mother's fine, fiery hair and seductive green-blue eyes with long, fine eyelashes. His pendulous, hairy balls beginning to develop a darker shade with his puberty and the generous pork sausage dangling between his legs were his father's genetic contribution.

Stepping up to his father he slipped his open pajamas tops off and dropping them on the kitchen floor beside his clothes, he slipped his hands under the elastic band of his father's pajamas bottoms and slid them down and helped his father step out of them. Matt Wilson stood there with his arms at his sides, revealing his nakedness to his son and just as unashamed as Cory stepped back to admire him. He had thick, solid thighs and arms and a broad, muscular chest, his chestnut brown hair spreading over his pecs in a thick mat and then narrowing into a V as it formed a narrow trail down the centre of his muscled upper torso, spreading out again over his stomach, not quite a six-pack but still muscular and flat despite pushing forty, the result of looking after himself and the physical nature of his work, and then narrowing once more into a V of thick, curly chestnut brown hairs over his pubes. His chest, back, arms and legs were darkly tanned from being out in the California sun most of the time, his stomach and firm, compact buttocks a contrasting white, reflecting his modesty and accenting them. Dangling between his legs were a pair of dark, huge, hairy, pendulous balls and his long, thick, semi-erect sausage, the skin drawn back halfway over his ruddy knob.

He knelt before his son and slowly began to stroke the boy's rapidly swelling cock, once again slowly and gently pulling back his foreskin which had crept back up over his knob to reveal the ruddy-tinged cap the same colour and shape as his own. He stretched his son's skin right back and then leaned forward and ran his tongue along the rim of the exposed knob and along the sensitive skin of the shaft below it, causing his son to tremble with arousal and his already rapidly swelling cock to swell all the faster. Holding the foreskin back, he slipped his lips over his son's young pecker and gently sucked on it, delighting in the raw, gamey taste and musky mushroomy fragrance of his young teenage meat and delighting in feeling it swelling and becoming firm between his lips.

He continued to suck on the boy's sausage until the boy was hard, and then turning Cory around, he spread apart his compact, smooth cheeks to reveal his tender, tight pucker. Leaning forward once again, he stuck out his tongue and ran it up his boy's salty, smooth crack. Stopping at his puckered asshole, he forced the tip of his tongue against it forcefully and Cory eagerly relaxed and pushed out with his abdomen to open his sphincter, revealing his knowledge and experience despite his tender age. He squirmed with delight as he felt his father worming the tip of his tongue into his asshole and he pushed out all the harder. He discovered his father was well versed in rimming himself, and Matt soon had his fourteen-year-old son squirming and anxiously opening and closing his sphincter in eager anticipation of being penetrated by something thicker and longer than his father's hot, wet tongue.

By then Matt was fully aroused and his long, thick cock was aching for attention. As he stood, it was Cory's turn to turn around and squat down. Slipping his hands up the backs of his father's thighs and gripping them for balance, he slipped his lips over his father's massive salami and clamped them down behind his swollen knob. He closed his eyes in delight as he savoured his father's raw meat, allowing his mouth to fill with spittle. Slipping his lips off his father's large, thick cock, he held the massive organ at the base with his thumb and first two fingers and raising it he drooled his bubbly spit over the broad mushroom-shaped cap and allowed it to ooze down the thick shaft. Emptying his mouth, he smeared his spittle over his father's knob with his tongue, the delightful taste of his turgid cock causing more spittle to flow out of his mouth and over the blood-engorged knob. Standing and turning once again, he grasped the edge of the kitchen table and bent over and spread apart his legs, offering his young, tender boy hole to his father. He braced himself and inhaled deeply as he felt his father grasp his ass and spread open his cheeks, but instead of attempting to penetrate him his father squatted down and gave his trembling asshole one last hot, moist rimming. His mouth quickly filled with saliva as he sucked and licked his son's musky anus, and fastening his lips tightly over Cory's asshole, he blew his spittle up his rectum.

Standing once again and stepping up behind his son and placing the tip of his aching cock slick with his son's spit against his son's asshole, slimy and slick with his own spittle, he pushed forward. Father and son grunted and snorted openly and lustfully, the father inhaling and exhaling deeply as he strained to insert the knob of his thick cock up his son's tight ass, and the son panting and gasping as he strained to accept the thick cockhead of his father. Both were randy as fuck and experienced at anal sex, both as the dominant and as the passive partner, and ever so slowly Matt's broad, slimy cockhead began to stretch open his son's tight, eager teenage sphincter. Cory grunted and snorted with renewed energy and hope as he pushed out with his abdomen and strained to accept his father and his father inhaled deeply and loudly and grasped his son's hips tightly as he pushed forward with all his strength, encouraged as he felt his son's sphincter widening as he inched forward.

At last he felt his father's thick knob pop inside him and Cory sighed with relief as his sphincter closed behind it, still stretched open wide with his thick shaft but no longer needing to strain to dilate further. Matt paused to savour the delight of having the head of his cock securely inside his young son's hot, moist rectum, and to allow both of them to recover from strain of their union. Gradually their laboured breathing began to return to normal. Grasping his son's slender hips once again, he slowly pushed his own hips forward, easing his long, thick cock deeper and deeper in his boy's body until he had it thrust up his rectum to its hairy hilt. He paused again, enjoying the delight of having his stiff, aching cock surrounded by hot, moist, throbbing ass flesh and giving his son time to enjoy the delight of having his rectum stuffed and stretched by a thick, hard cock. Both were familiar with the pleasure they were feeling, but the tightness of Cory's young asshole and that it was his son's ass that he had stuffed with his cock made it especially hot for Matt, and the length and thickness of his father's cock and that it was his father up his asshole made it all the hotter for Cory.

Grasping his son's smooth, slender hips still once again, Matt slowly drew back, easing his long, stiff cock back out of his son's rectum until the rim of his knob began to stretch open his sphincter once again, and then he slowly sank his cock back up the boy's asshole. He eased his cock in and out slowly, fucking his fourteen-year-old son's ass with just as much delight as he'd fucked the boy's mother's cunt in making the boy, and had fucked her thousands of times since. Cory's asshole was tight and hot and moist and throbbed just as his mother's cunt did. That it was his son whom he was fucking made the pleasure all the greater. Feeling Cory begin to work his sphincter in time with him, tightening it about his cock as he withdrew it and then dilating it as he sank it back in, he knew the boy was enjoying the fuck as he was, and that made it still more awesome.

Cory inhaled and exhaled deeply as he concentrated on the burning pleasure of his stretched rectum and the throbbing of his hot, moist rectum and his father's stiff cock buried up his ass. He knew that the pleasure he was enjoying was a pleasure most boys were deprived of experiencing in this sick, cruel society he was living in that saw fathers and sons engaging in that most intimate and powerful act of love as something sinful and illegal. As he felt his father's long, thick cock rhythmically pumping in and out of his asshole and throbbing with pleasure deep up his rectum he could see only pleasure and beauty in being fucked by his dad. Knowing the pleasure his father was feeling, having fucked ass hundreds of times himself, doubled his own pleasure. He tightened his sphincter about his father's thick bone as he withdrew and then relaxed as his father sank his hot, hard cock back up his rectum, working his sphincter in time with his father's thrusts and withdrawals just as his mother worked her cunt as she was fucked by the same cock that was presently up his ass. He trembled violently with that thought and his stiff pecker jerked with the eroticism of the idea that he was being screwed by the same cock as his mother and that he was bringing his father the same pleasure as she did. He thought back to the hundreds of times he'd snuck down the hall and opened the door a crack to spy on his father and mother fucking and how his father had grunted and groaned with pleasure as he humped her and how she had squirmed and thrust her hips against him as she was being fucked. Now that long, thick cock that he'd admired and dreamed of having was up his ass and his father was grunting and groaning with the same pleasure as he humped him, and he was squirming and working his boy pussy along with his father just like his mother. He closed his eyes and sighed deeply as a dollop of cum oozed out of his throbbing cock and hung in a long, clear pendant as a second took its place at the burning tip of his pecker.

Matt's breathing became more laboured and his thrusts and withdrawals more irregular as he approached his climax, and though he wanted to slow down and to pause so he could enjoy the pleasure pulsating through his cock and so they could enjoy their fuck longer, he was too hot to delay that ultimate pleasure of ejaculation and he knew his son was ready to cum too and that he did not have to wait for him as he usually had to with his mother. He inhaled and exhaled deeply as he concentrated on the building pressure in his loins and the throbbing pleasure of his swollen, numbed cock. He had his pecker up his boy, the fruit of his loins, giving him the same pleasure as he gave the boy's mother. That was so erotic. His large, pendulous balls were swollen into a tight, hairy knot the size of a tennis ball and his cock throbbed and pulsated with an unimaginable pleasure and the desire to shoot off a load multiplied with each thrust and withdrawal. At last he felt the familiar twang deep up his groin and his semen shot up the core of his swollen, numb cock and spurted out the burning tip and into his son's hot, moist, throbbing rectum. He grasped the boy's hips tightly as he lunged forward, filling his son's rectum with his hot, thick seed just as he'd filled his mother's cunt that night they had made him, just as he'd filled his wife's cunt thousands of times since, and his boy squirmed and gasped with the same pleasure.

As his father lunged forward, driving his hot, throbbing cock up his rectum as far as he could until his hairs were pressed against his battered backside, and as he felt his father's hot, thick, slimy load begin to spurt deep up his rectum, Cory shuddered and gasped with the unique pleasure and clamped his sphincter tightly about his father's throbbing bone. His father's seed was flooding his rectum just as his father's seed had flooded his mother's cunt the day they had made him, just as it had flooded her cunt those countless times he'd spied on them from the hallway. His father's tight, hairy, swollen balls were pressed up tightly behind his own as they pumped out his juice, his muscular, hairy arms and legs holding him in a vicelike grip as he emptied his nuts. His rectum throbbed in time with his father's spurting cock and his asshole burned as if the skin had been chaffed off. Never had he felt such pleasure.

Matt threw back his head and groaned openly in ecstasy as he filled his son's rectum, his climax just as powerful and just as pleasant as any time he'd come up his wife's hot, moist cunt. His hairy chest heaved as he sucked in the sex-laden air, the nutty fragrance of fresh cum and the sharp scent of sweat, his and his sons, replacing the distinct aromas of bacon and blueberry pancakes and maple syrup. They stood there like that, Cory bent over and grasping the kitchen table with a long dollop of pre-cum dangling from his stiff cock and his father bent over him, his hairy, muscular arms wrapped about his slender waist, his crotch pressed against his smooth, compact ass, and his stiff cock deep up his son's tight, cum-filled rectum, for the longest time as the two savoured the delight and the awe of their first fuck.

Matt finally straightened and slowly drew his hips back once last time, drawing his still stiff cock out his son's slick, cum-filled asshole. Cory immediately turned and dropped to his knees, and grasping his father's stiff cock by the base, he leaned forward and took it in his mouth, slipping his lips over the blood-engorged knob and down the thick shaft coated with cum and his ass slime. He eagerly sucked on that marvellous, long, thick prick that had just been up his hot, moist asshole and that he had watched fuck his mother countless times, ignoring the cum and ass slime and shit smeared over it as he worshipped it with his mouth and tongue, delighting in its strength and power and rigidity. He sucked deeply, drawing out his father's remaining slime and swallowing the thick, tart ball snot, delighting in its slimy texture and sharp cheddar flavour and that he had come from slime just like it.

Turning his father around, he fastened his hot lips, wet with his own ass slime and with his father's thick, sticky jizz, to his father's anus and he sucked deeply on his dank, musky asshole and eagerly forced his tongue inside and twirled it around, hungrily licking out his father's foul honey pot in his love and his lust for his father. His tongue darted in and out of his father's dank asshole, tongue-fucking his rectum until his mouth filled with saliva. Pressing his lips tightly against his father's asshole, he blew his spittle up his father's rectum and then sucked it back out until his cheeks were swollen like a chipmunk's, filled with his spittle warmed by his father's rectum and his father's ass slime, only to blow his spit and father's ass slime back up his rectum. Never had Matt been rimmed so and the vulgarness and the eroticism of what his filthy-minded fourteen-year-old son had done caused his still-stiff cock to jerked and throbbed with unbelievable arousal as lust filled his loins. The son was as expert at rimming as the father.

Standing and bending his father over the kitchen table just as minutes earlier he'd been bent over, he stepped up behind him, his stiff, aching teenage cock jutting up in the air rock-hard and ready. Although the boy was only fourteen, his prick was already two and a half fingers thick and six inches [15 cm] long, the result of the combination of the McFarlane and Wilson genes. Grasping his father's hips and pulling apart his asscheeks to reveal his hairy, spit-dripping asshole, Cory shuffled into position and wedging the tip of his rock-hard, aching young cock in his father's asshole, he pressed forward. Feeling his son's hard, hot cockhead pressing against his asshole, Matt Wilson pushed out with his abdomen, opening up his sphincter for his son. He inhaled and exhaled deeply and grunted as he strained to accept his son just as his son had earlier to accept him, and Cory grunted and snorted as he tried to penetrate his father just as his father had done earlier, the two sounding like two rutting pigs.

Cory's battering ram was not as thick as his father's, and his father's hole was not as tight as his, and ever so slowly his slopehead stretched open his father's sphincter until it popped inside. Matt grunted and sighed as his sphincter closed behind the rim of Cory's swollen, blood-engorged knob. His fourteen-year-old son had inserted the knob of his cock up his asshole and was about to fuck him and never had he felt so eager to be screwed! Ever so slowly Cory pushed forward, easing his stiff, aching cock up his father's hot, moist rectum until it was buried to the hilt just as his father minutes early had buried his cock up his asshole. His thick, curly, reddish-brown hairs pressed against his father's compact, hairy backside and his long, pendulous teenage balls bumped up against his father's nuts, still swollen and drawn up tightly under his still stiff cock. Grasping his father's hips, Cory drew his hips back, pulling his cock back out of his father's rectum until the knob reached his sphincter and then he sank it back in again. He inhaled and exhaled deeply as he fucked his father rhythmically and eagerly, delighting in the heat and moistness and tightness of his father's rectum, in the way it throbbed in time with the throbbing of his own cock, and in the combined aroma of bacon and blueberry pancakes and maple syrup and their pungent, sour sweat, his and his father's, and his father's recently ejaculated cum. He worked his hips to and fro rapidly, fucking his father's ass furiously out of pure, teenage lust and the desperate need to get his aching nuts off.

Caught up in his son's teenage frenzy and passion, Matt found himself breathing deeply with arousal also as he alternately constricted and dilated his sphincter as his son furiously fucked him from behind. Never in his wildest and wickedest dreams had he ever imagined anything so erotic. His fourteen-year-old son was fucking him furiously like a snorting, lust-filled bull, driven by the throbbing pleasure of his swollen cock, and boy's teenage eagerness and open lust was a delight, and contagious. Despite having shot off a load only minutes earlier, Matt felt the tension begin to build once again in his own loins, causing his stiff cock to wag and itch with the burning desire to shoot off another load and his still swollen, tight balls to ache painfully as they drew up even tighter beneath his raging hardon.

For thirty-nine years he'd been told that everything he was doing at that moment, having sex with another male, having sex with his own son, and having sex with an underage boy, was sinful, illegal and the most morally reprehensible acts a man could engage in. He had never bought into that totally though it had discouraged him from following his impulses from time to time. Now from what he was feeling in his heart, from the pleasure hotly throbbing between his legs and up his ass, and from the obvious pleasure and delight of his young son, he knew that what he'd been told was a load of shit. The pleasure and love between him and his son that he was feeling could not be wicked. Only minds poisoned by the teachings of a false faith and taboos prescribed by a warped society could feel guilt and see something dirty in what it had taken his son to shown him to be something awesome and beautiful.

He was a respectable, upstanding citizen with a solid job, a loving father and husband, a Venturers Scout leader, and at the moment he was stark naked and bent over the kitchen table with his son up his ass, the two of them supposedly engaging in three of the worst vices known to modern man, homosexuality, incest, and paedophilia. He felt like a sex-obsessed fourteen-year-old boy once again, the inexhaustible lust and uninhibited horniness of a teenager throbbing through his veins. He was openly and unabashedly grunting and snorting with pleasure and working his sphincter in time with the hot, throbbing cock thrusting in and out of his ass, and to him it was the most wonderful moment of his life.

Cory thought so too as he stood there fucking his father, his young balls swollen and drawn up tight below his now numb cock thrusting in and out of his father's hot, moist rectum. He'd had a lot of experiences in his fourteen years, more than many men have in a lifetime, all of them awesome, but this, engaging in the most intimate act a father and son can engage in, was the best of them all. Feeling the familiar twang deep in his loins, he grasped his father's hips and pumped his own furiously as he came, his hot, thick teenage cum spurting up his father's rectum and flooding it as if he hadn't come in a month. His stiff cock slid in and out of his father's rapidly filling asshole with a vulgar schlucking, sucking noise as spurt after spurt of his slimy juice shot out of the burning tip of his once again throbbing cock.

Feeling his son filling his rectum with his hot, teenage jism, Matt threw back his head and arching his body he groaned in unbelievable pleasure. To his surprise and delight his tight, swollen balls constricted even further and he felt a second load of thick, white cum gush up the core of his numb, swollen cock and spurted across the table to land in thick, white blobs on the remaining stack of blueberry pancakes.

The two gasped and trembled with the pleasure not only of their own orgasms but with the pleasure of having brought the other off, the son filling the father's rectum with his young, hot seed and the father spraying their breakfast with his. Sweat trickled down their naked bodies and their chests heaved as they sucked in the humid air rich with the musky, nutty fragrance of their hot cum. Finally Cory withdrew, and as he stood there sweating and stiff-dicked, his young cock smeared with his father's shit and still oozing out his young teenage cum jutting up in the air proudly, his father turned and the two embraced, their stiff, sticky cocks trapped between their flat stomachs and pressed tightly against each other and their gaping assholes burning pleasantly and leaking each other's thick cum as their lips met in a long, lingering kiss of love. As their lips parted, Cory spotted the cum-laced pancakes out of the corner of his eye. Picking one up, he held it between them, his green-blue eyes sparkling impishly and invitingly. His father's eyes crinkled and they leaned forward together and bit into the blueberry pancake and the fresh creamy topping Matt had provided, celebrating the consummation of their love.

They celebrated that love many times since then over the past five months, over the kitchen table, in his parent's bed, and out in the wilderness under the open sky on father and son hikes and photography expeditions. In the new year Cory met with his mother and father and suggested the marriage ceremony that was ultimately performed at the Fane of Universal Communion, and although his parents had young, new lovers, he knew he'd always have a place in their hearts, and between their legs.

"Somebody is having happy thoughts," Ben observed with a grin as he glanced down at Cory's throbbing, jerking cock, bringing Cory's thoughts back to the present.

"Very happy," Cory replied with a smile. "You want to help me do something about this?" he asked, nodding down at his stiff cock.

"Sure," Ben replied eagerly. "What would you like to do?"

"I read about this technique with soda pop I've been eager to try out," Cory replied with a grin and a sparkle in his eyes.

After supper the two had retired to what Cory humorously called his Sanctum Sanctorium, the Holy of Holies, leaving Antoinette and Anna to talk and get acquainted as had been the plan. It was his own private place, a place where he could study and work on his school assignments, where he could be alone to think or amuse himself, and where he could entertain his guests privately. It looked like the typical room of a fourteen-year-old boy with a desk cluttered with his school work and upon which sat a computer and printer; a bookcase containing his school books, the latest Harry Potter sci-fic, a couple books on Satanism, of course his great-grandfather's journal, his Walkman, music CDs by Wyclef and Kool G Rap, and a few odds and ends that had caught his fourteen-year-old imagination or that he'd received from relatives and friends; a small dresser and night table, and a small bulletin board with sticky note reminders and pictures of friends and family pinned haphazardly. Less typical was the presence of a mini-bar containing sodas, juice and snack food; a microwave; a quarter million dollar entertainment centre including a fifty-inch flat screen TV for watching porn videos from the Internet or which could be switched over to the house network with its multitude of hidden cams throughout the mansion and estate; and an extra large bed.

Getting a couple cans of Coke from the minibar and removing the straw from one of the juice boxes, he returned to the bed and took out a syringe from the drawer in the night table containing his modest collection of sex toys. Opening the can, he grinned over at Ben and told him to lie down on his back. Although apprehensive, after all that Cory had done for him including just helping the love of his life, Ben did as Cory requested, totally trusting his host.

Cory had a big job ahead of him spreading this new faith he'd dreamed up not just around the country but around the globe, especially considering how contrary the teachings were to other faiths and the beliefs and practices of present society. Although other faiths and cultures professed to believe in the precepts of charity, compassion, temperance, fortitude, prudence, justice and love, they certainly didn't practice it as evidenced by the declining church memberships of the major faiths and the killing and wars around the world. Cory was determined though that this new faith he'd conceived would teach people of every nation and every faith around the globe how to really love one another and would eliminate even the most entrenched prejudices and taboos, even those against boy love. While many great teachers in the past from Jesus to the Buddha to Mohammed have tried and failed to unite all people under their particular religion and beliefs, and while the leaders of the leading religions on Earth and the most powerful politicians today were floundering and ineffective, Cory knew that unlike them, he would succeed. As Ben had revealed to him that evening he had his hands on the crown of the greatest god of them all after all, the Father of All Gods, the Teacher of Men, the Teacher of Gods, and he knew how to use it, sortta anyway.

Saving the world would have to wait however. At the moment he had something more pressing to do. Grasping Ben's semi-erect cock and squeezing the knob to open up his peehole, he carefully inserted the juice box straw and then filled the syringe with Coke. Inserting the tip of the needle in the straw, he grinned down at Ben as he began to depress the plunger. As the fizzing soda entered Ben's cock and began to flow up his peehole, Cory gently squeezed and rubbed his shaft with firm, downward strokes, milking the soda further up his ureter. Ben squirmed with the unique sensation and inhaled sharply as he felt the Coke fizzing down the core of his cock and entering his groin. He looked up at Cory admiringly, marvelling at the things his buddy's filthy teenage mind came up with.

The First Apostle of the Fane of Universal Communion smiled back as he felt the cock of the fourteen-year-old future Prefect of the Congregation for Divine Canon begin to swell, and he refilled the syringe and injected more Coke up the swelling organ. He could hardly wait to do it to himself and his stiff cock jerked and throbbed with anticipation. This was going to be so fucking awesome sucking a can of Coke out of Ben's swollen sausage and having Ben do the same to him, especially when they came to the end and mixed the last ounces of Coke with fresh, hot cum.

Ben was thinking the same thing as he felt the soda fizzing down the core of his rapidly hardening young cock and his bladder swelling with Coke, and he looked on with the wide-eyed wonder and the horniness of a teenage boy, eager to learn all there was from the greatest Teacher the world would ever know.

The End

This brings us to the conclusion of Teacher. My sincerest thanks to those who have contributed ideas and characters who have become part of this story, and to those who have written to offer support and praise for my ideas and writing. A very special thanks to the moderator of ancss and to Langston for posting this story in their Yahoo Egroups and to the moderator of the asstr.assm web site and Céladon of the asstr-pza web site [That's me! Thanks Daemon] for posting this story on their sites for others to enjoy. Perhaps someday there will be a Teacher to bring us into a more enlightened world where today's fantasies are tomorrow's realities. In the meantime, I hope my fantasy has entertained you and brought you as much pleasure reading it as writing it has brought me. If it has, I would be delighted to hear from you and would relish any dreams and fantasies you would care to share with me.