---
title: '6 Riley Part 3'
pp_protect: '0'
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## 6 Riley Part 3

Date: Mon, 14 Aug 2017 22:47:27 +1000
From: Taylor Foxx <taylor.foxx.author@gmail.com>
Subject: New Chapter | Gay Incest | My Son's Friends - Riley Part 3

Here's the next part for you guys out there.

As always, thanks so much for all the contact and support. Please note this
story is TOTALLY fiction and I have no interest in any of this stuff
happening in real life. So you don't need to ask that.

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My Son's Friends | Riley Part 3

Two more thrusts. If I had just gone two more thrusts in Riley, that would
have done it. That woulda pushed me over the edge, and I would have dumped
my load in the tired little boy then and there. Then, when I finished, I
would have snapped two, kicked out the two Middle Eastern strangers in the
room, and carried Riley to his own bedroom down the hall. I would have
tucked in the tuckered out little slut, then hit the hay myself.

But instead, I didn't cum. Mal's phone call threw me off, and instead of
ending it then and there, I withdrew the length of my tool and once again
let Riley collapse down onto his parents' bed with a squelch.

Almost immediately, another argument broke out. Mal stood at the end of the
bed while Youssef and I still knelt on it, the little redhead once again
forgotten as the men in the room argued about what to do.

This time, though, it was two against one. And Mal and Yousseff kept
jumping in and out of some shared language I didn't understand.

Maybe I wasn't giving it my all. I mean, my cock was still hard - and both
of them had returned to full hardness as well. So even as we shouted at
each other, somehow debating whethr or not I should let two more strangers
into this house that wasn't mind, into this boy that wasn't mine, all three
of us were stroking our cocks.

"Fine," I said, crossing my arms. "They can come in for some quick blow
jobs, but that's it, ok?"

I turned to Mal and Yousseff, seeing if they would agree to my terms, but
before I could, Riley piped up.

"I-I can't..." he moaned from the bed. "I'm-it's too much."

All three of us looked down at the writing little boy, our cocks in
hand. Once again, in our adult discussion, we had totally ignored the boy
who was going to have to do the sucking. And now he was protesting.

I should have been happy. After all, this had been the plan all along - to
see if I could actual tire out the "unsinkable cock whore" that was my
son's friend.

"Shit," I heard Yousseff mutter. Shit indeed. Looking down at Riley, it was
clear the kid was down for the count. As he was lying on his stomach, I
could see his little hole - so tiny and pink before - was now stretched
open, gaping, leaking cum, and swollen beyond belief. His lips were in a
similar state.

At that point, I was ready to call it quits. In fact, I was about to tell
Mal to call up his friends and call it off when I heard the doorbell ring.

"Oh, fuck!"

Once again I found myself stuff my hard cock into a pair of Riley's dad's
sweatpants, then rushing down the stairs to get the door. And once again,
my curious little son who had been sleeping (or trying to) on the couch all
night beat me to the door just in time.

I suppose I shouldn't have been so surprised to see the...quality of the
men standing on the doorstep, given what I had learned about Mal and
Youssef. But still, standing there in the dim light, towering over my son,
both of the men looked so damn...trashy.

I took them in quickly as they leered down at my son.

The guy closest to the doorbell was probably around Mal's age--early
20s. And like Mal, he had dark skin, though much closer to black. He looked
like he was probably from Angola or maybe even Haiti--so dark that were it
not for the light on the porch I was sure he'd be invisible in the
darkness. Save for his hair--he had a tight, wiry mohawk that he'd dyed
blonde. That, combined with his lean, lanky build, made me think he must be
a soccer player. Well, that and the fact that he was wearing a pair of
soccer shorts that did absolutely nothing to conceal a boner that looked
ready to snake out the bottom of his shorts near his knees.

The guy next too him, while also lanky and around the same age, could not
have been more different. This guy, Clem, looked like your classic trailer
trash. Not the "country boy" type--we weren't in the right part of the
country for that sexy look. No, he had more of the "I'm going to rob your
house after I'm done fucking your son" kinda look. He wore baggy jeans and
a white t-shirt that showed off the ugly and poorly done tattoos snaking up
his arms and even over his hands. Though his tats screamed "white trash",
his scruffy beard and wild eyes were clearly the scariest part of this one.

"I think we came to the right place," the first guy said, grinning down at
my son.

"D-daddy? Who are these men? Where's Riley?" my son stammered, sounding
like he was on the verge of tears.

"Go back to bed," I muttered, grabbing my son by the shoulders and turning
him back to the couch where he had been sleeping (or trying to) a few
moments ago. Then I turned back to the men at the door.

"This way," I said, letting the two new strangers into the house. I was
sick of pretences. I wasn't feeling shocked and appalled and angry that
these guys were here, as I had been when Youssef arrived.

In truth, I was fucking horny. I still hadn't busted a nut yet, and knowing
I had now introduced four adult strangers into this house, with a horny
little boy upstairs, made me more curious than ever to see how Riley would
handle this new invaders.

Unfortunately, when I got the two new guys up to the bedroom and opened the
door, we weren't greeted by an enthusiastic little slut boy. Quite the
opposite rather. The three of us stood in the doorway for a moment, taking
in the scene in front of us.

Riley looked impossibly small propped up against the big pillows and tall
headboard of his parent's king-size bed. He was further dwarfed by the two
Arab men on either side of them, holding their hard and fat cocks in his
face.

Riley was bobbing back and forth at their direction (and by direction, I
mean their hands in his red hair, yanking him). There were only a few
seconds of air time between Riley's dual-knob-polishing jobs, but each of
those seconds was filled with breathy, whiney complaints.

"My jaw hurts!" he cried at one point..

"I can't feel my lips."

"Not so deep! My throatmfmgmgmff."

"Please, if I gag again I'm gonna..."

At one point, Mal reached down between Riley's legs and said, "Maybe this
hole is ready to go again."

At just the gentle's touch of Mal's thumb against his hole, Riley let out a
scream like he'd been shot.

"What's wrong with him?" the black man behind me asked. I didn't even know
his name yet, but I stepped inside, leading him and his companion into the
room.

"Um...he's been through a lot. Hold on, guys, stop, stop," I said to
Yousseff and Mal. Thankfully, they reluctantly extracted their cocks from
Riley's sore mouth and stood up.

I walked over to the boy on the bed and sat down next to him, smoothing his
somewhat slimy hair.

"What wrong, buddy?" I said, trying to ignore my cock still throbbing in
his dad's pair of sweatpants.

"I can't. I can't do anymore!" Riley said with a sniffle.

I had to smile at that. So the boy did have a limit. I knew he more than
deserved to be exhausted, but I couldn't help but tease him a little more.

"I thought you said you could handle two dicks!" I laughed, punching him in
the arm a bit.

"I said two, not three!" Suddenly his eyes grew wide as he peered to the
end of the bed. "And definitely not five!"

I turned to look at the end of the end of the bed and saw our two new
guests had taken the liberty of stripping naked. All four of the men I'd
just met stood there in a line, Mal and Yousseff flanking the ends, the two
new guys in the middle.

I took a moment to take them in.

The black guy was pretty much exactly what you'd expect. His lean body and
flat abs seemed to be just a framing device for the insanely huge black
cock that hung down straight between his legs.

Though he was uncut, he didn't have as much foreskin as Mal, and so his
enormous pink helmet was on display. It hung there, like a lure on the end
of a thick, black pole. It was almost comical how bright that head was
compared to the rest of the cock, which was as black as everything else.



The white guy's dick, on the other hand, stood straight up in the air, hard
and flat acainst his abs. While he was nowhere near as thick as the
anaconda next to him, his hard cock stood up all the way to the top of his
abs, nearing his sternum.

The long, white, cut cock was curved like crazy about two thirds of the way
up, hooking to the left in an ugly way that suited this guy
perfectly. After all, while he exuded horniness, he was far from your
"classic attractive" man. Rather, he was more like a disgustingly trashy
horndog with long fingers and ugly tattoos. And a cock that looked like
wanted to do damage.

I totally understood where Riley was coming from. He'd already been through
the most intense night of sex that any of my son's friends had
experienced--and now he was being asked to up the ante by about 20 inches
more cock.

And in some ways, Riley was brave to speak up. It must have taken a lot of
courage, in this situation, to speak up to a room of mostly unfamiliar men,
all naked and hard, all strangers, all pretty intimidating for a boy his
age.

But the situation also put me in a pretty big pickle. I had just welcomed
two more strangers into the house, and they were both here, naked, hard and
horny as hell. Not to mention, both Mal and Youssef had just had their cock
heads teased while I answered the door, and I myself had yet to bust a nut
that night.

"Ok, look, maybe everyone here needs a break."

I heard a few grunts from Yousseff and the new white guy in the room, but
it's not like any of them were really in any position to protest. They
should all thank their lucky stars I was willing to welcome them into this
situation without knowing any of them for more than a couple hours.

I told the guys to wait there, and made Mal promise me he'd keep them all
corralled in the bedroom. Then I bent down, picked up Riley in my arms, and
said, "Let's give you a bath and see if that makes you feel better."

I carried him down the hall to the bathroom next to his bedroom. I pressed
my ear to the door to make sure Niall was still asleep. Somehow that little
guy had slept through all of the insane noises his brother had been making.

Once I had Riley in the tub and the water the right temperature, I handed
him a sponge, a bottle of shampoo, and this rubber dinosaur that was either
his or Niall's. He accepted all of them gratefully.

My heart almost broke when he looked up at me and said, "I'm sorry. I tried
my hardest."

"No need to apologize," I said, smiling at him. I almost leaned in to kiss
him on the forhead, but then noticed that there was something--spit or
precum or throat gunk or his own anal juices--that was coating his pale
skin. I decided to give him a pat on the arm instead.

"You relax and clean yourself up. I'll be back in a few minutes."

I was relieved to see that all the men were still in the master. bedroom
(and still naked and stroking, though less enthusiastically). They all
looked at me expectantly.

I paused for a moment, then clapped my hands. "All right. He's gonna
rest. Why don't we head downstairs to have a beer."

That seemed to cheer all the guys up.

Once again I grabbed the sweatpants, and as I slipped them on, the black
guy made a comment that they looked comfortable. The next thing I knew, the
guys were riling through the closet and dresser, each finding something
from Riley's dad's wardrobe to wear.

The black guy, whose name I still didn't know, came out in first in a
ridiculous powder-blue pair of basketball shorts that looked like something
out of a 1970â€²s porno flick. They came up to the top of his
thighs, which means all but a couple inches of his fat dong was still on
display down his thigh, hooking left just above his knee.

I cringed when the white guy came out of the back of the walk-in closet
wearing a pair of suit pants with suspenders. He looked equally ludicrous,
his amateur tattoos and mangy reddish hair paired with what I guessed were
a very expensive pair of pinstripe suit pants. It was then I noticed that
this white trash guy was a real precummer--he'd already left a sizeable
stain on the front of the pants. "Shee-yit this is nice," he said, snapping
the black suspenders against his flat torso.

Yousseff, being the largest man in the room, managed to find himself a thin
cotton bath robe. I stifled a laugh as I watched him struggle to tie the
robe around his girth, then give up and simply settled for tying one string
around his cock and balls, effectively making himself a cock ring.

I actually did burst out laughing when I turned around to see what Mal had
put on. Apparently, in his rush to the bathr, Riley had forgotten his own
undies. Mal had somehow managed to fit them on--well sort of. The little
white and red briefs were stretched obscenely, as were the cartoon faces on
them. The elastic wasit band was stretched to breaking point around Mal's
bony hips. He'd fit one of his long, slender legs through the lef thole of
the briefs, but he'd had to rip the right. That's because that hole had to
accomodate both his adult thigh and the ugly brown cock hanging out as
well.

And just like that, I led the parade of obscenely dressed men out the room,
down the hall, and down the stairs. But just as I came down the stairs, I
remembered something.

"Shit! My son!"

The guys all paused and looked at me. Evidently, at least the two newcomers
thought that the reason we were going downstairs was to get my son
for...dark purposes.

"No...no hold on. Hold here."

I rushed down stairs to find my son sitting up, staring at me. "Dad! What
is going on up there? Who are those men?"

"You need to be in bed," I said, ignoring his questions. How in god's name
would I explain it all?

"I can't sleep with all the noise!" he whined. He could be so annoying
sometimes.

"Well, good. I have a treat for you then." And I swooped down on him,
picked him up, and rushed him upstairs.

I can only imagine what my son saw as he looked behind me over his
shoulder. How many of those clothing items did he recognized from long
afternoons playing at Riley's house? Did he even notice them, or was he too
distracted by the various ways these strange men were displaying their
erections?

I'll never know, because I basically rushed my son down the hall, opened
the door to the now-vacant master bedroom, and tossed him onto the big bed
where his friend had just been defiled over and over.

"Dad!" I heard him yell just before I shut the door and headed back
downstairs.

These men were fast. By the time I got back down, they had already moved
into the kitchen and found the beers. Youssef had even found half a
sandwich somewhere, and they were all talking loudly and joking around.

The quited some as I came in, but seemed to relax when they saw me get a
beer and join in the conversation.

Pretty quickly I learned a bit more about our two new visitors.

Turns out my assessment of Elijah, the black guy, had been pretty spot on,
it turned out. He was indeed a soccer player--that was how he had met Mal
in the first place. They both played on a team of immigrants from different
countires--something set up by some of the refugee counsellors. He was
Angolan, after all, but had been living here since he was a teenager.

Jax, the white guy, was more cagey about who he was. When I asked what he
did for a living, he just said in his mumbled voice "You don't wanna know."
Mal stood behind him when he said this, and put his fingers to his lips to
mimic inhaling a joint. Great, so it looked like I'd brought a drug dealer
into this mess.

And it did get a bit messy. We stood around chatting and having beers for a
long time--we even had to break into a stash Riley's dad had in the garage
I'd have to remember to replace it.

When Jax started offering to bring out some weed, and the birds beginning
to chirp outside, I knew it was time to start making some
decisions. Riley's bath was probably cold by now.

The thought of the boy upstairs shivering in the tub, with all these men
here still expecting to fuck him, made me start to feel anxious again.

The men seemed to notice the shift in my thoughts, as they grew quiet and
once again looked to me.

"What is it, man?" Elijah asked, stroking his cock as he cocked his
eyebrows. "Time to get started again?"

"I...I don't know. I don't know if he can.." I mumbled.

Immediately there was outrage from all of the men. I could barely make out
what anyone was saying with the various languages and curse words flying
around. But Mal, who was quickly becoming just as much an organizer of this
whole thing as I was, quieted them down.

"There is another option..." he said. Then he turned to look through the
kitchendoorway into the living room, where the couch was. Still on that
couch were my son's blanket and teddy bear.

"Oh no!" I cried out. "No. He doesn't join in. That's my son."

The men all looked befuddled. It struck me too, how strange it sounded, but
I was happy when I heard Youssef speak up, placing one of his big paws on
my shoulder.

"I get it. I have son too. Love to fuck boys like him. Just not him."

"But there is...another option..." Mal said again.

This time we all looked to him, every man in the room hanging on his words,
including me. But then, just before he said it, I realized what he was
going to say.

"No we--" I called out, but Mal spoke over me.

"There's another one. The little brother of the boy we were just porking."

I had no idea how Mal even know about Niall, but then I realized he must
have seen him when he was here working on the internet installation. Fuck.

Niall. Sweet, quiet little Niall. Niall who faded into the background
behind his energetic brother. Niall, who as far as I knew, had no idea what
his brother (and most of his brother's friends) got up to when they were
alone with me. Niall, who had probably never seen a grown man's penis
erect, unless he'd caught his dad in a rushed, inopportune moment.

It should have been out of the question immediately. Intorducing Niall to
dick on a night like tonight would be disasterous. Sure, I'd thought about
nailing Niall myself once I'd seen him. But I figured I've give him some
time, get bored of his brother and move on to him when he was a bit
more...ripe.

The first time with any of my son's friends was always important to
me. Though I wasn't always rough and gentle, I did use the first time to
gauge what the boy wanted and was like. I enjoyed the variety of sluts my
son seemed to attract to his inner circle.

But introducing Niall to dick with four other men would make that
impossible. If I did that, there would be no slow caressing and loving make
out sessions. It would be five big, colorful cocks of different shapes and
sizes, all weileded by blue-collar men drunk on his dad's beer. Men who
were outrageously horny and hungry for tiny holes. Men who had unknown
fetishes and fucking styles, even to me.

But it wasn't off the table. Instead, I found myself downing two more beers
as the men and I debated the issue. We weren't debating whether or not we
were going to do it--we were debating whether or not it could be
done. While it seemed Jax and Elijah were newer to this scene, Yousseff and
Mal both had plenty of opinions on what was and was not safe. Maybe because
Mal was the only one who knew just how small and shy Niall was, but he
seemed to be the most cautious about the whole thing.

As we were discussing the concept of introducing a boy to the world of
adult sex through a surprise five-man orgy, I began to zone out. I realized
that we had completely stopped talking about Riley and the idea of taking
him out of the bath and using him again. All of the men, even the skeptical
ones, seemed to be unable to talk about anything other than the untapped
little brother..

i, however, began to feel some serious guilt. How could I do this, go
through with this, while Riley was there?

Sure, it's not like I had asked RIley's parents' permission to use their
son as a sex doll. That wouldn't have gone over well. But some part of me
wanted to get Riley's permission to make a move on his little
brother. Don't ask me why, but it just felt right to do so. I have a
feeling my night of drinking and edging probably contributed to that
feeling, but in any event, I told the men we could go forward if I got
Riley to agree.

And with that, I left them to their beers and headed back upstairs.







I found Riley still in the tub. The bathroom was extremely steamy--clearly
Riley knew how to draw the bath water and had made the room hot, humid,
almost like a spa.

When I got closer, I could kind of see why. Riley was sitting in the tub,
splashing around quietly, his knees drawn up to his chest, his head resting
on his chin. He hadn't heard me come in, and I could see he looked so
beaten down and tired. I wondered if he was running such a hot bath because
he felt dirty. He should--what he'd done with me, Mal, and Yousseff had to
be the nastiest act I'd ever seen one of my son's friends pull.

"Hey, buddy," I said softly, and Riley looked up at me, giving me a half
smile. I'd never seen the boy so down in the dumps--we clearly had
succeeded in fucking the spark of horny energy in him.

"Something wrong?" I said, keeling down so I was at eye level with him.

Riley let out a heavy sigh, then looked up at me. "I'm sorry. I just... I
can't do anymore." He paused again. "Are you mad at me?"

"Oh, no, tiger. Not at all." I smiled as warmly as I could at the kid, and
now that he'd scrubbed himself clean, finally gave him that peck on the
forehead. "I'm not mad at you. I'm so proud of you. We had so much fun. The
guys loved you."

I saw the sadness in his eyes disappate a bit. "Really?"

"Really." I tapped the tip of his pointed noise. "You made all of us really
happy. And you don't have to do any more if you don't want to."

Instantly Riley's body relaxed, and he stretched his legs out in front of
him. "Oh good. So are they all gone? Can I go to bed now?"

I paused, staring him in the eye. "Well, no. They're still here. See, those
two new guys didn't get to cum. And you know how men get when they don't
get to cum. Remember that time your Mom interrupted us?"

Riley giggled quietly. "I remember. I couldn't walk straight for weeks when
you finally got me in that bathroom at her office."

"That's right, tiger," I said, giggling along with him.

"So...are they gonna jerk off or something?"

I reached into the tub and scooped up a handful of warm water, letting it
run gently over Riley's thin, white thighs.

"No. They want to fuck."

"So what are they gonna do?" he asked, clearly enjoying the water treatment
I was giving him.

"Well, that's what I wanted to talk to you about." I stood up
suddenly. "Hey, mind if I join you? That water feels good?"

I yanked down the pair of Riley's dad's sweatpants I was wearing and
stepped out of them. As always, Riley fell silent when my dick entered the
room. But this time, he was still so sleepy he stayed silent, even as I
dragged my heavy nuts across his head while climbing into the tub.

In no time, I was settled down in the hot water with him, my back against
the back of the tub. Riley naturally nestled down between my legs, laying
back so that his head was on my stomach and my semi-hard cock was pressed
down the small of his back.

I felt him relax into me, as many boys like him were want to do. I know he
felt safe and warm in my arms. That's a big part of the reason boys like
Riley and the rest of my son's whorish friends like getting fucked so
much. It's a chance for them to feel safe, secure, and wanted.

I reached down into the water and pulled out the fuzzy sponge I had tossed
in on my way out. I poured a tonne of soap onto it, way more than needed,
and a bit of baby oil to boot. Then I began to soap up the boy in my arms,
caressing his body while I quietly interrogated him about his little
brother asleep down the hall.

Riley was tired, but his naturally chatty nature made it pretty easy to get
all the info I wanted. Niall was two years younger than Riley, and though
he thought it was annoying that Niall was so quiet and shy, Riley loved his
little brother dearly. He clearly felt protective of him--a trait, I
gathered, that Niall naturally caused. I bet both of his parents felt the
same way, that he needed to be protected more than most people out there.

The fact that Riley didn't hate his little brother was gonna make this
harder, so I decided to turn on the works. I grabbed a handful of shampoo
and began to massage it into Riley's red hair, knowing that I had a chance
to do a little bit of hypno work on him if I could massage his scalp.

"Riley," I said as I felt the boy lay back even deeper against me. "Riley,
the men downstairs want to fuck Niall.'



Riley didn't respond immediately, just moaned. Then what I seemed to say
registered, and he shot up like a bolt.

"Niall! No way! He's not like...me. He's not into that!"

I almost wanted to laugh at the alarmed look on Riley's face, but I knew
that wouldn't help. So I just pulled him back into me and continued to rub
his yead.

"Yes, he is like you Riley. We can make him be like you. The men really
want to."

"N-noooo," he moaned, clearly loving the scalp massage..

"Y-yeesss," I teased back. "And I do too. I want to give your little bro my
cock, and I want to watch him take the cocks downstairs, too. Tonight."

"But-but..."

Slowly I removed one hand from Riley's head and began to snake it down his
body gently. I don't think he noticed, even as my hand went under his thigh
to rest against his ass crack. I kicked my legs up under Riley's, lifting
his little knees on my big hairy ones until his ass was propped up a bit.

"No buts," I said. Then I gently, ever so gently, pressed my thumb against
his hole. I felt him take in a sharp intake of breath. "The men want to do
this tonight, and I want you to tell me it's ok with you. I want you to
tell me to do it."

"I can't....no..." he said, now clearly aware that I was probing at his
hole. I took this as a sign to back off a bit, but only for a
second. Because soon, I had replaced my caressing thumb with my cock head.

"Riley, you can. You can give me permission to fuck Niall. Because if you
don't..." I let my cock head throb against him, knowing he could feel me
pressing at his entrance. "Then we'll all have to do you instead."

And with that, I popped the cock head into him. Just the head. For two
reasons.

First, I didn't want to kill him. I just wanted to remind him what it felt
like to have adult cock in his hole.

And second, I knew where Riley's g-spot was, and knew the only way to reach
it was with tiny, little mini thrusts of just the tip.

And that's exactly what I did, while giving him a scalp massage with one
hand. I gave him those mini thrusts as I ran down what we wanted to do to
Niall.

"For starters, all of us are going to want both of his holes. Probably more
than once," I explained, pushing Riley closer and closer to a boygasm with
each thrust of my cock head. "I know I"m definitely eager to find out if
that little quiet mouth of his can deep throat. And I know some of the guys
were tossing around the idea of a DP," I said, knowing full well Riley had
no idea what that was.

Not that he would have, either. Riley was far too distracted by what I was
doing to his hole. I tried to remember if he'd ever had one before, and no
memories came to mind. I knew he'd be capable, though--a boy that in love
with cock would have no problem having an anal orgasm.

"So tell me, Niall," I said, feeling the boy begin to tremble. "Who's it
gonna be? Niall? Or you?"

And as I said you, I gave him one final jab--this time every inch of me. It
had the exact effect I wanted. Riley had his very first boygasm there,
while simultaneously screaming out in pain:

"Niall! Oh god, please! Take Niall!"



More to cum on this one of course.



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