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Date: Wed, 18 Aug 2004 19:38:57 -0500
From: MyDad's MyJohn <m_g_h_j@hotmail.com>
Subject: Whoring with Dad Part 10 (in gay/adult-youth

Whoring With Dad
Part 10: The Saga Continues (thank god!)
By: Mr.gloryholeJUNKIE
m_g_h_j@hotmail.com


Disclaimer & Warning:

The true-life tale, "Whoring With Dad" is copyrighted to the author.
Readers, and others, are therefore asked not to repost, re-publish,
plagiarize or in other similar manner appropriate the story for either other
public or for-profit use.

This masturbatory tale, based on actual events which occurred in the
author's own childhood, is intended strictly as a personal sexual aide for
adult men wanting and needing to delve into their most secretive and
lascivious lusts. That is their prerogative and their Right.

The objective of relating such a story is, of course, for simple lurid
arousal but more importantly with the aim that adult male readers will
satisfy their darkest and most intensely illicit drives without acting upon
those drives. Therefore, the intent of the following written material is to
have men "read" rather than "sexually act out" with an individual --
especially since that individual would clearly need to be someone who at
this very moment is probably watching "Bob the Builder" and wearing
"Spiderman 2" underpants (and, yes, let's hope we don't mean your
ninety-two-year-old grandfather who's quickly losing it).

It is the author's fondest desire to see his adult male readership unzipped,
masturbating and cerebrally fulfilling their most salacious fantasies
without ever once needing to haunt the baseball park, scout camp, day care
center or that nursery right down the hallway.

Readers are strongly encouraged to never act upon their depraved desires
should those desires be of an illicit nature. Instead, it is urged that men
read the following erotic literature, ejaculate (thereby diffusing their
need to "act") and get on with their day, whether as mechanics, attorneys,
ministers, childcare providers, uncles, dads or strangers in the park.

The author welcomes and encourages written e-mails from his readers. Be
graphic, be truthful, be detailed, be open since the author trusts that his
male readership realizes he understands their deepest, most secret
yearnings. But please take special note that unless they are of legal age
males, the author does not solicit or welcome photographic images to be
included with messages from his "fans". The written word, at last we heard,
is protected while images of a certain nature are not.

Readers are further encouraged to follow any additional laws and mandates
for their particular locale whether these pertain to age, erotic materials
or anything else the uptight can think of.

The author thanks you and wishes each of you a pleasant masturbatory
session.




Preface:

Thanks to all who over these many months have so patiently awaited the
continuation of "Whoring With Dad". Gosh golly, some of you men seemingly
have remained unzipped and drooling precum for the last six or seven months!

You must all know that the author hates to leave men, er, hanging in such a
state. Or as the father of the author, who would take his then
seven-year-old son into a variety of public toilets in order to service the
strangers inside, might say, "Hold your mouth open...just like that. And let
the nice man squirt in your mouth so he can get back to work." With that
sort of constant guidance, rest assured, your author, since little up, has
been trained to not let a man - any man - go away in such a condition.

And so, it is with this goal that the saga continues -  so that such readers
can finally wash down their monitors as they find out what happens next to
our little cumpig hero, Kevin, and the even littler Tomas.

It's quite interesting and, even to a lecher's mind, startling to note the
obvious: that so many men out there share this same deep, dark secret. The
legions of men out there, men who have written, men busting a pants zipper
wanting to do some awfully nasty stuff which makes one question if there is
any man walking the planet who might not do something if left to his own
devices. One wonders how a kid gets through a coloring book session with the
antics some of you dads out there have shared with the author. "I didn't
mess up, mommy. I went out of the lines on this picture when daddy's hard
pee-pee kept bumping into my elbow."

Yes, that secret we men all seem to innately know about certain other men
apparently remains alive and well in many homes. Whether as an adult they
were on the 'giving' or, as a boy, on the 'receiving' end of such depraved
homosexual unions, it's that secret which, for generations, most all men
have maintained in silent consent.

There's little mystery as to why. Surely, the givers aren't going to blab
(they're depraved, not stupid). And even decades later, the guys who had
fifty cocks in them by age five, well, notice how few ever seem to complain
unless there's a money settlement dangled in their faces?

Yup, its just the way of men. While wives fret about their widening hips or
the safety of their teenaged daughter's pussy, fathers and other men have,
for centuries, been taking the little guys out back to teach them how to
suck'n'swallow that big thing that daddies make babies with.

It's long been the perfect ploy for men to allow their womenfolk to bask in
their own feminine vanity. It's a convenient distraction from what men are
really doing if nothing else. As women spin the universe around their own
ego, men get their jollies with the slutty little scamp putting out for
every cock in the Zoo toilets.

While busy worrying about what the lanky fratboy babysitter might just do
while changing little 'Samantha's' diaper, women virtually disregard what
the Tri Epsilon hunk actually is doing while changing little 'Samuel's'
diaper. Sure, his dad senses what the college kid they hired for the night
has planned, but like he's going to blow the whistle when he's doing the
same to little Samuel the rest of the week? Instead, as such a dad tells a
male babysitter "We'll be home by midnight, Josh", one really has to wonder
if that's simply informational or, as is more likely, a dad's way of warning
Josh to make sure to have his semen all wiped up before then. It all goes
over the mother's head, of course, as she darts about more concerned about
phone numbers and juice bottles.

And that's the way guys like to keep it.

Then there's the "nice retired man next door" who fully understands and
appreciates the neighbor ladies' concern about him inviting their
nine-year-old daughters to swim in his pool. After all, he watches "Oprah",
too. In fact, he goes out of his way to assure the mothers that he admires
their concern for their daughters...the entire time knowing he's got their
nine-year-old sons at his pool - their swimsuits pulled down while he sucks
and finger fucks each one of them.

Double standard? Naively ignorant females? Sneaky and sexually depraved men?
It's a combination of all of it which has permitted men to sexually couple
with male children from the dawn of time.

Some such men just shrug it off as, "Hell, that mother asked me somethin'
'bout her acne-ridden fourteen-year-old daughter...the bitch didn't mention
nuthin' 'bout using that plump lil'rump of her two-year-old son."

Yeah, there are some men who actually think that way. They relieve
themselves of responsibility or "rationalize" by deferring to some
"technicality" of semantics. And although we other guys know they may be
wrong, one can see how men like that get away with such thinking. After all,
what's such a man to think (and therefore do) when he sees a mother at the
local mall keeping a close eye on her daughter (who no one but teenaged boys
are looking at anyway) while at the same time, that same mother has lost
track of how long her eight-year-old son has been (sucking six men) in the
john near the food court?

So, we have the con artist approach like the retiree mentioned above.

Yet, most other times, you have men with the same nasty agenda employing a
more common and direct approach. An approach often favored by "macho
straight dads" who do more with their three-year-old sons than they do with
their own wives...sexually, that is.

They're the married, even semi-homophobic, masculine men who get all in a
"mood", even a rage, if the little woman even hints that it seems a bit odd
to her that he wants to take their three-year-old son on a week long fishing
trip with ten men she's never even met.

"What the fuck's your problem?", this sort grumpily shouts as his heart
beats hard and fast while packing his son's underoos, "We're going
FISHING...it's me and Dan from the plant and his brother-in-law, Stan
something...and a bunch of other guys...hell, they all got kids, too. What
do you think? I'm going to lose Mikey? Or worse, one of the guys is going to
curse in front of him? What the fuck do you think? I'm bringing my one and
only son into something dangerous? Or WORSE? Fuck, you watch too much t.v.!
Hell, Bunny, I'm his DAD! You gotta TRUST people, babe!"

Of course, the whole time he knows exactly what he and all his "fishing
buddies" are planning to do to Mikey once they're at the lake. But he
remains the sort of nasty dad whose ploy it is to be all "insulted and
offended". Of course, that type's wife then backs down, feeling bad she got
his blood pressure up. In fact, she assures him that she knows he's a great
dad and she'll be just fine on her own with the girls for the week. Hell,
she even APOLOGIZES to him.

Yeah, its long been such a devious man's proven-affective strategy. And sure
enough, a day later, Mikey's naked in a pup tent, on his stomach, his chubby
little buttcheeks held open wide by two men as nine other "straight" dad
have their fun with him for a whole week at Lake Hidicocka.

And then we also have the gracious granddad types. That's the sort of
gentlemanly man who leaves everyone guessing - more than guessing, not even
thinking to guess. They're often the handsome, fit men, with time and money
now, who have "proven" over the past forty or fifty or sixty-some odd years
that they're straight pillars of society (cough). The relatively affluent
and jovial men who are "more than happy" to watch the kids for the weekend
at their retirement villa in North Carolina. He's the well-hung widower
whose daughter and son-in-law never dreamed that "granpapaw" uses his new
web cam the way he does! In fact, they have no clue that the very same night
they drop off the kids and leave, granddad, using that web cam, is going to
have the boys put on a full, hardcore sex show with him from his hot tub!
Heck, and here his daughter thought dad was just learning how to use e-mail!

And, yes, we have the new dads out there, too. The newlywed, first-time dad
sorts who just seem to "spontaneously discover" this weirdly intense sexual
compulsion of theirs to do something "nasty" between the slats of the Eddie
Bauer crib. Maybe he's a guy who has sensed yet always denied that he's
harbored such fascinations. Or perhaps it's a compulsion that comes to such
a dad only after he realizes how well that little guy down the hallway can
suck on a bottle or a man's thick index finger. His unzipping to "check out
the suction power" might only seem a natural conclusion to a man's logical
thinking.

Additionally, we all know there are other men out there who wanted to become
dads for just such depravity. Yup, plenty of dads out there knew exactly
what they were up to as they wooed and married some nice lady. These men
know exactly what they were doing and hatching the night they squirted sperm
into their wives. This sort of dad knows the dark thrill he was feeling the
day that she told him they were "pregnant". This type's heart raced with
lascivious elation when they saw it was a boy on the sonogram. Of course,
these men also never, ever give a hint of what their objective was all along
(except, perhaps, to like-minded dads on the 'Net or that they find in some
XXX). And then nine months later, they got themselves a plaything - one they
planned on and set out to create. Sure, it's the shockingly eye-popping
reality of some dads out there, but a reality none-the-less.

Added to all this, there are lecherous strangers in alleyways ready to
pounce. And chickenhawks who still loiter around mall toilets waiting for
any unescorted lil'guy to go in. And big brothers that offer their baby
brothers as a cumhole for massive gang initiations. And priests in
confessionals with altar boys beneath their robes. And psycho-sexual
kidnappers and penny-a-print orphanage pornographers and XXX parking lot
kiddy-pimps and mother's bi-sexual boyfriends and boarding house drunks and
all sorts of other assorted men pushing their thick cocks down little boys'
throats.

And, yet, despite wide disparities in ages, power and social or economic
dynamics, we must also recognize it is not always only the adult men who
perpetrate such illicit sexual encounters. It must not be denied that there
are many boys who willingly explore their daddy's body while the man is
showering or even napping. These little guys scoot onto the sofa while mom's
at work perhaps and, in their open naivete, roam their small hand into their
daddy's Jockey shorts. They're curious and horny as they want to feel the
big, fat hairy thing daddy has hidden in there. As men, we know that many of
us, as boys, thought or did similar things with our dads or adult men
without provocation or seduction - and sometimes, without even their
awareness.

For there are certain boys who take it upon themselves to become sexual with
men. Often times with his own father perhaps because, indeed, the man is his
daddy and he feels close and secure in his play. Or sometimes only because
such a man, his own dad, is a convenient physique to be played with. After
all, few four-year-olds have a driver's license or could get into a XXX
theater on their own. Therefore, their father is their first piece of trade,
if you will -- he's there and has a cock. And if the father takes to napping
in just his underwear whenever the wife is out, to his child, he seems to be
a compliant sex buddy (even if a sleeping one).

Some of it is simply the curiosity of any little fella as he realizes his
daddy is sexual. He may or may not even be old enough to fully understand
that the semen coating his little fingers and that he's innocently tasting
is the very same that made him. Its just the act of playing with a man's
body, his hot, hard erection, his heavy, hairy scrotum and all that milky
stuff he shoots which fascinates these precocious tykes.

After all, some of their precociousness can certainly be attributed to the
fact that certain boys are born cocklovers. And that is not hopeful,
projective thinking. The author was just such a lad. From earliest
recollection, he desired the bodies and penises of adult men. There was no
questioning his desire from earliest memories onward - for there was no
moment of awakening or choice or even hesitation as he'd reach up to suck
the erections of various men who stood before him. As a child, his skills in
pulling down men's zippers, fellating huge penises and swallowing numerous
loads of thick, warm testicular fluid would have been legendary even within
the boy brothels of ancient Rome.

How a child has such strong sexual urges only for men over thirty - and
seemingly "skips" attraction to boys his own age (or even teenagers, still
years his senior), may remain a mystery. In a similar vein, why do some men
love blondes while others love brunets? It's the same for the five-year-old
boy who instinctively prefers a hairy-chested forty-year-old man to other
kids anywhere near his own age.

Or perhaps it's a blipping glimpse into the effects of reincarnation?
Perhaps just such a little boy subconsciously recalls his skills and
appetites when he was a wanton cum whore servicing the troops in Caesar's
army? Or perhaps its prompted by memories of being a very busy little
blowjob boy in 1910 New York City, when street urchins earned their keep by
shining shoes, selling newspapers and sucking any man who pulled them into a
darkened alleyway.

Or, maybe the author's innate desire for sex with men while as a toddler had
nothing to do with past lives or anything that anyone anywhere implanted
into his mind...

...Unless, of course, perhaps his father placed subliminal audiotapes to his
sleeping mother's belly while the author was in gestation. Yes, perhaps his
father placed headphones to his snoring wife's navel and played a tape from
the 'Nasty Parenting Audio Series': "You will have an easy birth... and a
hunger for adult cock....you will be healthy, have ten toes...and an
unquenchable thirst for daddymilk...you will grow big and strong...and you
will crawl from your crib and into daddy's tented lap whenever your mother
leaves the house...you will have a natural desire to be a boy slut...you
will seek out strangers in the public toilets by the first-grade and not
know why...."

Others have argued that the author must have been sexually "abused", and
seriously so, from the crib onward. There are some who suggest (as they
furiously masturbate) that the author has no recollection of what must have
actually occurred in that nursery of his. That either he was too little to
recall such hardcore sex or blocked it out (why he'd block out such happy
memories eludes the author, of course). Some readers have written to suggest
that the author's father "obviously" introduced him to cock and semen from
perhaps the earliest hours home from the maternity ward. That the author's
father must have brought strangers home to feed him "special milk" when it
was bottle time. Some readers have asserted that there may have been
elaborate webs of porn and videos made of the author, depicting numerous men
gangbanging him as a baby and toddler.

All these readers are trying to be helpful in ascertaining the 'hows, whys
and whens' that this particular author became such a young and deliberate
cumpig. That all may have happened but it's unlikely. With all that the
author's father had him do sexually as a grade-schooler, it seems unlikely
he would not have revealed to him the fact he was a baby cum whore as well.

Yet, one never knows.

Instead, the author asserts, that for better or worse, there are simply
certain individual boys who are born cocksuckers, born cumpigs. And there is
little to be done about it. As a child, one could barely have kept the
author away from a man's zipper. In fact, the author, at that age, would
have unzipped whatever man was pulling him away from the other man's zipper.
Call it crazy, call it hot, its simply the reality of being a child cumpig.

It's often overlooked in open dialogue about men getting bjs from their sons
or other little boys, that sometimes it's the tot who is the instigator.
Yeah, sure, there are those men who are "rationalizers" and try to spin
things where it seems that every little boy is drooling to get fucked or to
suck men off. We see that in a lot of what the author refers to as, "roll
your eyes" sexual writing:

'Lance, Tommy and Jeremy left their fifth grade soccer game early in order
to have secret sex talk in the tall grasses where the teenaged boys would
all gather to get blowjobs from them after school. "You as hot to blow that
nice man down the street as I am?" "The one who just moved in? With the
slight potbelly and glasses? You bet! I haven't sucked a man's cock since
yesterday when the plumber came over. Mum never knew." "Hey, me, too. I
sucked off our cable man and the ice cream man but the Fed/Ex man shot his
load on the pavement cuz he had to run." "Yeah, I mean, I like the Cubs and
sports and all but nothing is better than when some man pays me $5 to let
him fuck me." "Me, too, I have $5600 in my cumpiggy bank right now!" "Me
too! $6700 ...I got $1000 after I did all my dad's poker buddies and now my
daddy said I could take HIM to Disneyland this year!" "Hey, you guys get
fucked like Tony and Kenny and Billy all did by that man at the park
yesterday?" "Sure did, he's old but I love getting fucked by Rotary Club
members!" "Did Mr. Simon at school fuck your butt, yet?" "He sure did and
he's huge, isn't he?" "Sure is, he's been fucking all the boys who want it"
"And SPERM! Don't you guys love SPERM?" "Yeah, it's better than milk and
Oreos!" "Hey, I even heard that Charlie's three little brothers eat sperm
all the time from the men who buy stuff at the local hardware store!" "Wow!
Cool! I wonder if we could all suck and eat sperm from them, too?" "I don't
see why not since the man who owns the hardware store can't keep the boys in
our class away from his cock!" "I heard that, too! He lets all the fifth
graders suck it. But they have to ask him nice." "I wonder if he has enough
sperm in his hairy nuts to feed all of US?" "Let's go find out. I think our
dads are all down there now buying lawn mowers anyway!"

Yes, it all gets to sounding a little like the most perverted episode of
"South Park"...EVER, doesn't it?

But we're not talking about adult men's rationalizing fantasies that all
boys want to get fucked by or suck mandick all the time. In fact, that's the
same warped perspective some men use when defending the idea that "they just
knew" that their (female) rape victim loved it... and was fingering her
pussy while she waited for him to break in and hold her at knife point.
Yeah, right. She was juicing her panties while waiting to be jumped,
hogtied, fucked and left for dead. Every girl's fantasy!

Instead, the following true tale is the reality as shared by a man who was
just such a boy. How can it ever be fully explained, the hunger and sexual
drive that a little boy has to suck strangers and his own father's penis? Or
by age four, to play in and ingest adult men's semen?

How does one relate such truths without risking doubt? Not an easy thing to
answer. One has to simply trust that there are enough men out there who
shared a similar childhood or who have personally encountered such boys
themselves. Its those men who know that every word is true.

But, still, by and large, the sheer numbers of little guys who have their
pants pulled down or who are told to "swallow it all like a good boy" are in
the company of someone close to them - very close to them. When that someone
close has the added fascination to see the kid with all sorts of strangers
as well, we have the author's childhood, "Whoring With Dad" and the
continuing perversion in the Lawson Y.M.C.A..


Whoring With Dad
Part 10: The Saga Continues (thank god!)
By: Mr.gloryholeJUNKIE
m_g_h_j@hotmail.com



My breaths grew shorter as yet another man I could not see took his turn
fucking me. He stepped behind me the very moment that the man before him had
ejaculated and withdrew. Knowing that one of the first men who had cum in me
had left and was now standing watch in the corridor, this new man wasted no
time pressing his big mushroom cockhead directly onto my red, swollen anus.

While two other men spread and held open my small buttcheeks, which is what
all the men had been taking turns doing for one another, it made easier for
this big man to find and penetrate my tiny butthole. It also helped me since
I was only a quarter the stature of any of these men. If they hadn't helped
by holding my small frame in place, I'd have slipped on the wet tiles or
been crushed beneath the weight of the various men as they aggressively
fucked my butt. Oddly, although they gangbanged me and didn't seem to give a
second thought to cumming in me, they also were taking care as not to hurt
me.

In one smooth and determined move, this man shoved his very thick cock all
the way up into me, forcing me to stifle a yowl. I was filled with his very
thick erect penis and even after having had a train of men stretching me
open, his very big cock felt as if it had entered my abdominal cavity.

Hearing my muffled yelp, one of the men holding my buttocks open laughed and
urged the man to make it a good one since he seemed to be the last cock in
the room needing to unload. "Unload your bull balls fast, buddy, so we can
get this kid back to his dad."

"His DAD is here?", the man said sounding shocked although he didn't miss a
stroke as he rammed his cock in me. "Fifteen or more of us fucking him in
here and the kid's dad is somewhere around here? Fuuuck, just knowing that's
going to make me cum."

He may have found it easier to fuck a little kid than he might have ever
expected. Apparently none of the men had a mental block or "moral dilemma"
taking a turn fucking me after seeing so many others doing the same. They
seemed to grow bolder together, figuring there was safety in numbers,
knowing the whole place was crossing that same line with a little boy.

But the man in me also seemed to physically know he wasn't screwing just an
ordinary seven-year-old. He knew what he was fucking since he had to have
been in the steamy room the whole while watching all the other men before
him as they took turns like lecherous cohorts in what was perhaps the most
depraved act committed in any of their lives -- and that's saying a lot when
speaking of men who spent a lot of time having sex at the Lawson.

I recall thinking years later: Which man in such a situation would be
considered the more depraved? The man in a room who'd unzip first to
gangbang a child or the man who'd wait until the very end? Without doubt,
they both earn a medal for perverse decision-making. Sure, one the one hand,
it could be argued that the first man is more perverse - starting the ball
rolling, as it were. While the last man may have hesitated and done the deed
only in the end and only because it seemed the thing to be done.

Or, conversely, it could be said that the first man was simply, wildly
over-wrought with lust and pumped seed into the kid before realizing the
significance of what he was doing. While the last man was more calculated,
having the time to watch all the other men, never stopping anyone, counting
the cumloads shot into the tyke before taking his turn adding more seed.
Therefore, more than the others, perhaps it could be said that the last man
would really know what he was doing as he'd step up to the child's
cum-filled butthole,

And, sure enough, this final man found my hole widened and lubed it in
plenty of goopy loads of the mixed semen shot into me by the others. And
just as he muttered the words, "...'Kids loaded...just fuckin' loaded...in
cum, you guys...so many guys in this kid...maaaaan, whadda fuck...and his
dad leaves him on his own in this place...what a fuckin' idiot! Man, gunna
cream in his little kid...some fuckin' little slut kid...damn...here it
cuuuuuuuuuum, kid...another load for the little cum slut...". At that, the
man's knees virtually bucked beneath him as he ejaculated, washing my
innards in his hot semen.

At almost the same time, my own legs, long feeling achy and dripping in
streams of cum leaking from my butthole, finally gave out. In the intense
heat of a steamroom, my body had grown weak by the constant fucking of all
these men.

And as the man pulled his cock out of me, I passed out.

I don't know how much later it was, but I was roused back to consciousness
by a cold splash of water to the back of my neck. It couldn't have been too
long a time that I'd been out yet it was long enough for all but two of the
men to have fled the steam room.

"You okay, kid?", a naked, thin man with a mustache asked in a very
concerned but nervous voice.

I don't recall answering him but I suppose opening my eyes gave him some
relief. Looking at him, I did recognize him as having been one of the men
holding my buttcheeks open for all the other men.

"Fucking hot", another man, the last man to have fucked me, in fact, said.
"The kid passed out from so many dicks fuckin' him." He squatted down along
side me and asked. "We didn't kill ya or nothin' with all our dicks, did we,
you little slut?"

I smiled and turned around to sit down.

"No, no, not in here", the first man said. "Its too hot in here and a little
kid like youse been in here way too long. Let's try to get this little guy
out of here without anyone seeing."

The other, big man chuckled. "Why? I think everyone in the place took a turn
unloadin' in the little slut's ass."

"Come on, help me out here, guy!", the other man said. "Before the kid
passes out again or barfs or something."

The men opened the door to the steamroom and peered out. Nobody seemed to be
around.

They half carried me down to the locker room and seeing the place was pretty
quiet, brought me into the shower room.

"Hey, what you got there?", a well-built, hairy-chested man in his late
thirties asked as he shampooed his hair. He was shocked to see the men
toting around a naked and ashen little half-pint. "He okay? Fuck, what
happened?"

"He's fine!", the big man stated firmly. "Little too much heat, that's all."

The man under the shower padded over, still soapy, and looked at me. "You
okay, son?"

I nodded and grunted "Yeah, I'm okay...I think."

"Shit, you guys", the hairy-chested man said to the two others. "I got kids
this age. They can't be in...what...the sauna? For more than a couple of
minutes when they're this young."

"We just found him", the mustachioed man said as the big man looked at him
in a conspiring way. "Thought we better get him under some cold water."

"Yeah, smart thinking", the hairy-chested man said in an annoyed voice.
"What the fuck...?", he then said as he could smell and feel slick streaks
of semen on my back and thighs. "Damn, you guys...what you been doing to
this kid?"

"Nuthin'. Absolutely nuthin'", the big man said as he turned to leave the
shower room. "Welp, I done my Good Samaritan act for the day. Hose 'im down
and he'll be fine." The man then disappeared to return to the locker room or
perhaps the steam room.

"Is that guy for real?", the hairy-chested man asked.

"Yeah, I know" , the other man asked. "I think he thinks you think we were
like screwing the kid. We weren't."

The hairy-chested man looked at him with suspicion. "Well, somebody's been
fucking this boy...fuck, look at the goddamn semen all over this kid!"

"Yeah", the other man said. "I can see. We, me and that other guy, we found
him in the steam room. We heard some noises and went to see and found him
lying there. Seems a bunch guys were doin' him."

"Doing him?", the hairy-chested man asked. "You mean fucking him? Sheesh."

"I know, its pretty weird", the other man said. "But pretty good thing me
and that other guy rescued him, right?""

"I guess", the hairy-chested man said as shampoo ran down his pecs and
stomach. "Hey, son", he then said to me. "I'm going to turn on a
showerhead...the one above your head...so don't be startled."  He then stood
and turned the shower on to a cool setting. It felt great and I found myself
immediately feeling much, much better.

"If he's okay now", the other man said nervously, "I'm leaving. He'll be
okay."

"Yeah, I'm okay", I said to the mustachioed man as I looked up through the
jets of water. And with my words, the man raced out of the communal shower
room leaving me with only his cum in my butt.

"Let's get some of this gunk off of you", the hairy-chested man said
referring to the copious amounts of semen that had poured out of my small
butthole. "My name's Philip, by the way. I'm a doctor...which seems lucky
for you, huh?" The man also rinsed himself off as he spoke to me in a very
fatherly manner.

"Cool", I replied. "My name's Kevin." I looked up and was feeling so much
better that I wanted to suck Dr. Philip's very hairy, very thick and very
long cock which swung back and forth between his legs as tried to help me.

"Hi Kevin", the man said with a smile. "I think you're going to survive. You
know, you can't spend a lot of time in those steam rooms or saunas, son.
They're much too much for a little boy like you. How old are you anyway?"

"Seven", I replied.

"Seven", the doctor said almost under his breath, clearly shocked. "Seven?
And men were doing that to you in the steam room? Do you remember how many?"

I nodded with a smile. "About fifteen or maybe more", I replied proudly.

"You don't seem too upset by that, son", Dr. Philip replied.

"I'm not. I know men like it", I replied.

The doctor shook his head in disbelief as he said, "Then I take it its not
the first time you've been with men when they're like that...naked...erect,
I mean?"

"Nope.", I said with a shy but very mischievous smile.

"I didn't think so", the man said as he turned off the water and helped me
to my feet. "I know that my own seven-year-old wouldn't be reacting the way
you are, that's for certain. Did you let those men do this to you? All that
cum, I mean?"

I nodded again as I stared at the doctor's handsome frame and big equipment.
Leave it me, even as a kid, I could have risen from the grave...to suck once
again!

Seeing where I was looking, directly at his hairy torso and between his
legs, the man got flustered and quickened our pace. "Well, we better get you
out of here. Are you here with anybody? Your daddy? An older brother?"

"With my daddy and Tomas", I replied innocently.

"And where are they?", Dr. Philip asked, seemingly nervous to be so close to
a naked little boy while he himself was naked, especially if the boy's dad
was anywhere about.

As two men entered the shower room, Dr. Philip pointed for me to continue
our conversation out in the locker room. He grabbed a towel on a shelf next
to the row of sinks as I found an empty bench.

"So, where are they? Your daddy and Tomas?", the doctor asked out of earshot
of any of the men as he put the huge towel around my shoulders.

I shrugged and said I didn't know where my daddy went to but that he might
have even gone back to the rooms we were staying in.

"Your daddy has you staying HERE? At the Lawson?", the man asked in a
startled tone although he was slowly putting the pieces together.

"Uh ha", I said. "It's our super special overnighter! My daddy's room is
Room 503 and me and Tomas are in Room 519."

"And who's Tomas? Your brother?", the doctor asked in a low voice. He looked
about suddenly less comfortable than before.

"Yeah, my baby brother", I lied.

"Your dad has you and your baby brother here for the whole day?", the man
asked as he sat, naked, beside me.

"And the whole night, too!" I added in enthusiastically innocence.

"And how old is your little brother?", Dr. Philip asked as he again looked
up and down the aisle hoping no one was around.

"Eleven months old", I said simply.

The hairy-chest Dr. Philip looked at me and frowned. "Eleven months old? And
your dad had him HERE at the Lawson?", he asked in a slow, shocked manner.
"Is your dad having an argument at home or going through a divorce from your
mother or some such thing?"

I shook my head and opened my small, cocksucking mouth wide. I was startled
to hear such a suggestion. "No! My mommy and daddy love each other. Why did
you ask that?"

"Sorry, Kevin", Dr. Philip responded, trying to diffuse the emotional
conflict he might have started. "I don't know them so I'm sure they're fine.
It's just that its not often...ever, if you want the truth, that a dad takes
his sons here for an overnighter. Especially such little sons like you and
your baby brother."

"He made it our special treat because he knows I like it here", I said.

"You've...you've been here before?", the doctor asked.

"Uh-ha", I replied. "I was here and had a lot of fun then, too."

"Same kind of ...fun...as today, you mean?", the man asked as he spread his
legs a little wider.

"Yeah, sort of but not in that steamy room", I replied.

"And your daddy let...or you let...men do things to you that time as well?"

I looked around knowing I wasn't suppose to talk too loudly about secret fun
men had with me. I smiled and said, "In the bathroom by the swimming
pool..."

"Yes?", the doctor asked in a similarly quiet voice. "Did men do something
to you in there?"

I nodded.

"How many...how many men that time, Kevin?", the hairy-chested man asked.

I shrugged my shoulders not quite remembering. "Maybe, six or nine. I don't
remember too well how many."

"And your daddy has his own room upstairs", the handsome doctor said. "And
then put you and your eleven-month baby brother in a different room? Why is
that?"

I again shrugged my small shoulders. "I guess so he could have room and me
and Tomas would be in a room alone, too."

"And aren't you afraid in a room all by yourself ...or do you like that?",
the man asked, half-knowing already.

"I like it", I admitted. "I was sort of scared at first but its okay. It's
not a pretty room but its fun."

"Fun?', the man asked. "Other than what I've heard many men do up there, how
can one of those dark, little rooms upstairs be much...fun...to a
little...guy...like...you?", the man stopped his sentence since he recalled
to whom he was speaking.

I looked into Dr. Philip's eyes and smiled. "Me and Tomas already had secret
fun this morning."

"Secret fun?", the man asked. "What do you mean?"

"You can't tell anybody!", I said emphatically. "Promise?"

"Not even your daddy?", the man asked, still trying to figure out what was
going on.

"NO! Not even him.", I responded. "You can't tell ANYBODY...promise?"

The doctor crossed his heart within his muscular, hairy chest as he said, "I
promise."

"Me and Tomas were in our room, room 519, and I let in some men who wanted
to play with us", I confessed.

"US?", the doctor asked. "Us as in you...AND...Tomas?"

I nodded.

"And so, did you?", the man asked in a breathless voice. "Let them in, I
mean?"

I again nodded.

"What were they looking to do with you and Tomas?", the doctor asked,
already knowing what men in the Lawson would be in search of at all hours of
the day or night.

"For me and Tomas to play...like big boys play...with their dicks", I
replied.

"And did you?", Dr. Philip asked. "Let them play with the BOTH of you?"

I nodded. "Tomas likes daddymilk almost as much as me."

"Daddymilk?", the doctor asked. "What's that?"

I pointed at his penis, which hung free and hairy between his legs. "You
know", I giggled. "The stuff you daddy's make." Then in a whisper, I added,
"The stuff that makes babies...you know."

"The stuff that was all over you back in those showers, you mean", Dr.
Philip said. "Daddymilk...semen. Its called semen."

"I know", I said.

"But I presume your daddy has raised you to call it daddymilk", the doctor
said. "Your daddy has this all figured out, doesn't he?"

I looked at the man with a quizzical look. "What do you mean?", I asked.

"Nothing, Kevin. Nothing", the man replied. He could see more men had begun
to mill about as it was fast approaching noontime when many area businessmen
would spend their lunch hour at the Y - to run some laps around the track or
to swim, but mostly for some quick sex.

"So you don't know where your daddy is now?", Dr. Philip asked.

"No", I replied. "He might be playing basketball -- or swimming because he
like that. Or he could be in his room upstairs. I don't know."

"And he left you alone while he's got your brother with him?", the man asked
in a displeased voice.

"No, I don't think he's with Tomas.", I replied.

Now Dr. Philip was really confounded. "He's not with Tomas? Where is your
baby brother then?"

"The man who works the towel room has him", I said casually. "At least I
think so. My daddy gave Tomas to him this morning."

Dr. Philip's jaw nearly dropped as he asked, "Your daddy left an eleven
month old with the towel attendant? You mean that thin one...with the big
sideburns?"

"Sid!", I replied. "Yeah, my daddy gave Tomas to him."

Dr. Philip shut his eyes tightly since he apparently knew something about
the towel attendant. Or perhaps it was simply hearing that a father would
leave his baby son in the care of any strange man. "And where did he leave
him with this Sid guy?", the doctor asked as he quickly stood up, still
naked and not even bothering to look for a towel at that point.

Mimicking him, I, too, jumped up, but with my big white towel still around
me. "Over there", I said pointing to the dutchdoors of the towel room.

Dr. Philip took my small hand into his large one and quickly led me over to
the towel room. "I think we better find your little brother."

The door was closed but had a clock sign on it reading "BACK AT 12:00". Most
men ignored the sign and helped themselves to the stacks of fresh towels
left on a rack outside the towel room. But Dr. Philip knocked. And then he
knocked again.

I said, "I don't think they're back there."

"Oh I bet someone's back there", the handsome, hairy doctor stated as he
knocked a third time.

Suddenly, the dutchdoor fully opened and four or five men, I could barely
catch a glimpse of, quickly exited and went in as many different directions.
  Their abrupt departure caught Dr. Philip and I off-guard as we were nearly
knocked over.

Then, tucking his white t-shirt into his white trousers, Sid came up to the
open door and in a very friendly way asked, "Yeah? What can I get for you
fellas?"  He took the clock sign off the door as he spoke. "Need a towel?
Out of soap? What do you need?"

"We're here for Tomas", I said with a smile.

Sid was very uptight and tense but remained super friendly in his demeanor.
"Oh, yeah, yeah...the baby...Tomas...that's right", Sid replied. "Oh, I
think his dad got him about fifteen minutes ago...yeah, about fifteen
minutes."

"You sure?", Dr. Philip asked as he peered over the man's shoulder trying to
see more deeply into the towel room.

"Yeah, positive", Sid replied with a grin. "No babies back here...just four
loads of towels whining like a babies."

As if courtesy of either divine intervention or a Marx Brothers' routine, at
that exact second, we could all hear a baby's gurgling sounds and then a
baby's voice as if trying to say something. Whatever Tomas was trying to
articulate, it was coming from the office within the towel room.

"No baby?", the doctor said flatly to Sid. He then turned to me and asked,
"I presume that's your baby brother's voice?"

I nodded. "That's Tomas. It has to be...how many babies are at the Y today?"

"Exactly", Dr. Philip said. He then turned to Sid who was now red-faced.
"Mind if we collect this boy's baby brother? Since it seems he's here after
all."

Sid said nothing, he just lifted his hands in resignation as he let the
doctor and me through the door. We then opened the door to the inner office,
with Sid right behind us. Dr. Philip, and even I, stopped in our tracks at
what we saw.

In the middle of the linoleum tiled floor was sitting Tomas, completely
naked, gurgling and giggling...and completely drenched in what looked to be
copious amounts of something very thick and very sticky. Beneath his bare
bottom was a pool of more of the thick, sticky stuff.

As one could smell it permeate the room, the mystery liquid wasn't a mystery
for long.

As Tomas put his tiny fingers in his mouth and smiled at us, Dr. Philip
dashed to his side, squatted and picked the baby up and out of the puddle of
semen.

"What the freak has been going on in here?", he asked in a shocked,
although, surprising, very low, quiet voice. "This baby is saturated
in...in..."

Sid came into the office with us and then shut and locked the door. "Yeah,
its pretty cool, ain't it?"

"Cool?", Dr. Philip said in a defiant tone although never raising his voice.
"This is like the cum of fucking twenty men, you freak! What's been going on
in here?"

"Hey, hey, man", Sid said. "Calm down, man! Ain't nothing the little guy
didn't want. Hell, he loved it! He'd tell ya that...if he knew how to talk
that is", Sid said as he laughed.

I laughed, too, since I thought it was pretty funny and I, too, knew that
Tomas sure did seem to like sperm.

But Dr. Philip wasn't laughing.

"Is that what those guys who ran out of here were doing in here?", he asked.

Sid laughed again as he replied, "Well, yeah...those guys? Yeah, they were,
shall we say, just the last to go a round on him."

Dr. Philip was torn and confused. On the one hand, he'd uncovered two of the
most depraved situations he had ever come across in his ten years in
medicine...and in his thirty-eight years of life. Situations that he'd
report in a flash without a moment's hesitation if they had come through his
office or into the ER.

Yet, in the hallowed halls of the lascivious Lawson, he had to acknowledge,
that on the other hand, neither of these two little boys were exhibiting any
adverse reaction to what was being done to them. In fact, as he watched
Tomas happily slurp up another big splat of someone's semen off his fingers,
he had to agree with the towel attendant - these two apparently enjoyed it.

"Come on, man" Sid urged. "No big deal...have some fun...door's
locked...nobody knows he's in here...or cares...do anything you want to
him...its all been done to him already anyway. Come on ...you know you want
to...when else you gunna have this opportunity, man?"

Despite his gut-reaction and his words, it was true that Dr. Philip wasn't
bursting through the door and reporting Sid and his cohorts. He had to admit
to himself that for reasons he didn't understand, he wasn't as outraged as
he thought he'd be in such a situation. And that scared him almost more than
anything Sid was egging him on to do.

"You're saying you and those men not only came on this child but you did
other things as well?", the doctor asked in a confrontational tone.

"Fuck, yeah...the little ones always love the big ones", Sid smirked as he
groped the long snaker in his trousers. He then grabbed my hair and said,
"Ain't that right, kid? You little fellas can't get enough of the big dicks,
can ya?"

"You had your erect cocks in this child's mouth?", the doctor asked
seriously, as he put his fingers into and then looked into Tomas' toothless
mouth. "Abrasions, redness...that will be a bruised uvula..."

"Fucked 'im too", Sid said as he forcefully pulled me down to his crotch
where he grinded his crotch into my face. "You gotta give these kids what
they want...what they're begging for...", Sid said with an evil grin.

"Wanting? Begging for?", the doctor challenged. "Are you kidding?"

"That one there", Sid said, as he nodded toward Tomas. "He was begging for
it. You can always tell those little ones are looking at men's
cocks...wanting them inside of them...begging for it. Every suck on a
pacifier, they're begging for it."

Doctor Philip laid Tomas on his back upon the steel desk and raised his
chubby, little legs to examine him. "This baby has been sodomized...", he
said in a quiet voice of disbelief.

"Oh think so?", Sid said sarcastically. "My guess is he's been fucked more
times than my ex-wife. And that fuckin' whore bitch grew up turning tricks
in truck stops out near Calumet City."

"It might have been the men in my room this morning", I innocently said as
my left cheek remained pressed against the hot, thick bulge in Sid's white
uniform slacks.

"More dudes got his baby bunghole? How cool is that!?", Sid said almost
rejoicingly. "Fuck, so worried about all of us doing him down here when they
were all doing him up there before we got to him. Hell, we couldn't have
popped baby cherry even if we wanted to!"

There was a commotion in the locker room suddenly and Sid went quiet. He
pushed me away from his crotch as he listened closely at the door. Hearing
what the muffled voices were saying he got nervous quickly. "Fuuuuuuck,
fuck, fuck!", he said as he turned red and ashen at the same time. Suddenly
the black phone sitting on the desk began to ring loudly. It rang and rang
and rang until, seeing that Sid was going to ignore it completely, Dr.
Philip picked it up.

"Hello?", he said calmly. "Uh ha. Yes he is", he said as he shoved the
receiver at Sid. "They want to talk to you."

Sid was in a near panic. "Who? Who wants to talk to me?", he said as he
continued to clearly hear whatever it was going on in the locker room.

"I don't know", the doctor said. "They just said they need to talk to you."

Sid picked up the receiver and his voiced cracked as he said, "Yeah? Who is
it?"

The towel attendant listened and listened to whoever was on the other side
of the line. His face tightened and the veins in his neck popped and
strained. "Yeah? And so what am I suppose to do?", he asked like a little
boy. "What am I suppose to do?"

Right outside the towel room, stood two burly Chicago cops. Between them
stood the Lawson manager, Ted, who was on a black phone mounted to the wall
in the locker room. "Come out because these guys need to talk to you. Come
on, Sid, no one's going to harm you."

Without responding, Sid placed his receiver down on the desk and shrugged as
he started to cry. "Fuckin' shit, they got me...fuckin' shit."

Dr. Philip and I stood there dumbfounded as to how Chicago cops could have
found out so fast about what Sid had just done to Tomas. And although he
hadn't done anything but try to help, Dr. Philip also was quite upset and
nervous as well. After all, it was he who was naked with a naked little boy
and holding a baby saturated in semen. In the days before DNA testing, the
doctor knew there would be no way for experts to eliminate him from being
one of the many men who ejaculated in this baby.

But he was courageous and picked the baby up again as he looked at Sid. In a
measure of disbelief, surely seeing his entire medical career going down the
toilets in a "Lawson YMCA Baby Sex Scandal", as he knew headlines would
read, he said, "You better open the door."

Sid unlocked the door and exited first. Before I could even get through the
door, the cops in the locker room had grabbed Sid, forcefully handcuffed him
and dragged him about twenty feet in the opposite direction and out of the
main locker room area. Seeing what was happening and happening so quickly,
Dr. Philip grabbed my shoulder before I could make an appearance at the open
dutchdoors of the towel room. He pulled me back and then to the back of the
towel room, near where the industrial washer-dryers were whirring noisily.

Although he had Tomas cradled in his left arm, Dr. Philip put his right
index finger to his lips, indicating for me to remain silent. We waited like
that for a minute of more. Then, when we heard some men in the locker room
laughing and getting back to their activities, we cautiously approached the
dutchdoors again. Dr. Philip looked out and about. Some men saw us and asked
loudly, "Man, you guys SEE that?"

Dr. Philips said no and the men immediately went into a boisterous telling
of how the towel attendant had just been handcuffed and dragged off for
raping... his five children. It seems that Sid's ex-wife, back in Phoenix,
had finally caught up with Sid. She accused him first of non-payment of
child support and when it became apparent he had no money, she slammed him
with the cops. Seems he'd been raping their five kids since the very day
they were brought home from the hospital.

Dr. Philip stood there, shocked and clearly relieved that the appearance of
the cops had nothing to do with what had just happened to the baby in his
arms. As he took a deep breath, one of the men talking to us, as he slowly
toweled off his big, heavy, genitals, said, "That's kind of funny. You know,
ironic. Some guy gets dragged out of here for raping his kids...and here are
two kids! Sorry, if we offended you, man. I apologize for being so graphic
in front of your kids.Its just that it was pretty wild in here a couple of
minutes ago."

Clearly the man mistook Dr. Philip for being my and Tomas' dad.

Dr. Philip cleared his throat, aware we must have made for quite the sight,
a boy barely wrapped in a towel and a hairy, naked man holding a very sticky
baby. "Oh, no problem", the doctor replied, glad to get away with having
these men think he was our father, at least until he could put some jockey
shorts on.

The men went back to dressing and Dr. Philip directed me to follow him to a
quieter spot. "I better get you two back to your room.", he nearly
whispered. "What room number was it again?"

"519", I said.

"Good, good", the doctor said. "I think I better take you two up there.
While things settle down a bit here."

Naked he carried Tomas as I walk along side. He had me press the elevator
button and we got inside with two other men, one in white undershorts and
the other naked, who watched our every move.

As the old elevator slowly ascended, one of the men said with a grin. "Hi
again, you", looking right at me. I didn't recognize him but smiled and
looked at his uncircumsized penis.

"I doubt you know me", the man said slyly. "But I sure know you."

"Didn't I see you two upstairs earlier...this morning?", the other man, in
the underwear, asked.

I nodded. "Uh ha. Me and my little brother are in room 519."

"Yes, I thought I remembered seeing you." the man replied as be very
casually and quickly squeezed the bulge in his underwear. "But this isn't
your daddy, is it?"

The elevator car went silent.

"No, I'm taking them back to their room", Dr. Philip said calmly.

"Oh, its your turn now, eh?", the naked man kidded.

"Yeah, I didn't think you were the same man", the man in underwear said with
a pleased tone to his voice. "Maybe everyone can play papa to these two
before they leave?", the man joked.

Dr. Philip nervously laughed.

"What's all over this one?", the naked man asked as he wiped a finger along
Tomas's thigh. "The man sniffed his finger and looked at Dr. Philip closely
as he chuckled. "Oh, you sure are filling in for papa, aren't you?"

Just then the elevator doors opened and we all exited onto the fifth floor.

Dr. Philip looked up and down the corridor and then I pointed in the
direction of my room.

As we started down that way, the two other men, both in their early fifties,
stayed close, tailing us a little.

"Hey", the naked man whispered as we all walked. "Hey, buddy..."

Dr. Philip stopped and turned. "Yeah?", he replied.

"Uh, seeing you ain't their dad", the man asked with a smirk. "And seeing
what's all over that one...me and my buddy...we're wondering if you all
might not like some more company?"

"What?", Dr. Philips asked although he knew exactly what the men meant.

"We can help you give that one, you know, another special bath", the man
nearly whispered.

"I don't think so", Dr. Philip replied as he walked off leaving the two men
where they hovered at their doors right across the hallway.

As we got to our door, the doctor asked me, "Have your key I hope?"

I nodded and took the key from the bracelet, and inserted it to open the
door. Dr. Philip, Tomas and I went inside.

And although he closed the door firmly, I noticed that Dr. Philip didn't
lock it.


TO BE CONTINUED...
m_g_h_j@hotmail.com
