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Date: Fri, 11 Jul 2003 15:32:59 -0500
From: gloryhole JUNKIE <gloryhole_junkie@hotmail.com>
Subject: Whoring With Dad - Part 6

Whoring With Dad
Part Six: Jesus' Seconding Coming (Continuation)
or
The Father, The Son and...Hol(e)y Moly!


TrueLife tales by a denizen of the public toilets

By: Mr. gloryholeJUNKIE
gloryhole_junkie@hotmail.com
The author appreciates detailed and lengthy feedback from his readers -
especially those among you who are particularly naughty. Therefore, when you
get a chance (i.e., can wrench a hand away from your masturbatory duties
long enough in order to type), be sure to drop him a line!



Some other stories at Nifty by the author:

Dad's Private Peepshow
(MMtb)

Old Man and the Sea
(Mtttttttttttttttbbb)

Super Bowl Game Plan
(tMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM...)

Family Business
(bMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM...MMMMMMMMMMMM...MMMMMMMMMM...)

Roman Holiday (MMorgy)

Builder and His In-Home Peepshow
(MMF)



PREFACE & WARNING!

The author invites his readers to enjoy the following tale, as each lewdly
masturbates in front of their individual computer screens which will,
momentarily, be all a'flicker with salacious ideas (as one scrolls down).

Readers are welcome to use this true-life tale for "target practice".  As
you masturbate along with the story, at any point where you may need to
"bust a nut", simply rise from your chair and point your cock at those
perverse words or sentences which brought you to climax. Can you perfect
your "aim" enough to make the words on your screen, er, disappear behind
your opaque and fertile goo? If you are confined to a bed or chair, don't
let that stop you from playing. See how far you can shoot (or be sure to ask
your attendant to help you take aim).

Become a skilled marksman...practice, practice, practice!

And, heck, if your wife went out, leaving you at home...alone... with a
special someone... and you "forget" to close your door completely while
reading (and milking your thick boner) ...well, golly, gee, what more can a
dad be expected to do?

But please do not publish, re-print, copy, plagiarize or otherwise use this
tale for profit without the expressed written consent of the author ...and
his fleet of well-hung and angry copyright attorneys ("angry" because the
author keeps them that way by never allowing them to screw his otherwise
public-utility throat)!

Additionally, the author strongly encourages his male readers, who may be so
predisposed, to channel any illicit sexual energies into blowing a wad of
their warm, milky, adult seed while masturbating to this story rather than
setting out to the nearest youth soccer field (or public toilet) with intent
to commit a crime of a most decidedly sexual and degenerate nature.

More simply put, if you are over the age of eighteen, never, under any
circumstance; unzip your slacks around anyone under the age of eighteen,
should molestation, penetration or any form of sexual contact be your goal.

And this leads to an important point especially aimed at you
eighteen-year-old high school readers who indeed are, we acknowledge,
surrounded all day long while at school by under-aged, freshman boypussy
(and their fourteen year old throats). You are now legally an adult at age
eighteen (yeah, even if you're still just a clueless high school senior).
Therefore, your hormones, physiques and legal responsibilities are at adult
male levels (take a sec to look inside your A&F boxers -- that's as big and
developed as you're gunna get...woof). So, even if your well-formed builds
and fat young dicks may tempt you to cross that easy-access line, DO NOT
(without fear of the law) gang-screw the youngest kid in the frosh class
while you got him cornered in the boy's locker room. Since you're a legal
adult, that would be in violation of most statutory rape laws ...um, yeah,
even if you all ride the same bus to school every morning!

Instead, because you are legally an adult at the age of eighteen...take in a
movie! Good, adult bookstores and cinemas are within an easy drive of many
communities. Merely head to the dark back rows of any cinema house showing
moving picture pornography and there you will find many (MANY) men who
most-assuredly will be delighted to treat your hard (and perfectly legal)
high-school-senior dicks right! (And don't forget to also ask about the
arcade's glory holes while you're there)!

Now, as for the rest of our adult readers, if you are, oh, let's say, the
fifty-year-old school principal, teacher, neighbor, drooling park pervert
and/or father of an under-aged cutie...it should really go without saying:
Don't ever stick your throbbing, adult dick up the butts or down the throats
of anyone under the age of eighteen (yeah, even if your wife's been a frigid
bitch these past few weeks).  Don't fiddle, fondle, or otherwise diddle with
the bodies of the young (well, younger than the age of eighteen).

Additionally, these basic legal guidelines, although perhaps sadly you may
think, would also apply to dick-hungry adult men who seek to unzip and pull
down the pants of any young fella under the age of eighteen. (Yes, even if
its because, "I just wanted to give the kid his first good, sperm busting
blowjob...Officer.").

Listen to the Nancy Reagan in your head: "Just Say NO!" (Boy, one can only
imagine how often she said that to Ronnie whenever he popped a
Hollywood-politico bi-sexual tenter in his slacks).

Scenarios related in the following tale are all true. They are events which
happened circa 1970, Chicago (picture it!). Although syphilis, herpes,
gonorrhea and homicidal maniacs were most assuredly present back then, HIV
was basically unheard of, and, essentially, still only the far-fetched plot
device of certain sci-fi films. Therefore, as you masturbate along with us
in the 21st century, if you choose to squirt into or guzzle down semen from
other males, especially from total strangers, simply be reminded of the
current risks.

And while it may seem stunning to certain readers, as they consider the
sheer numbers of adult men who aggressively sought sex with the author as a
very young boy, rest assured, these events are more documentary than the
casual pervert on the sidelines of sex may deem possible. In fact, even the
author has always been "circus-level amazed" at the ease and the numbers by
which he got into the slacks of adult men.

But it was not until he was fourteen years of age that the author set out to
systematically record the numbers of men who sexually coupled with him in
the park toilets, woods and through both amateur and "professional"-level
glory holes. It was at that age, the final months of his being an
eighth-grader that he came to keep his "Cum Journals". Starting with
schoolboy spiral notebooks, on a daily basis, he would jot down the numbers
of men who engaged in sex with him, a very brief description of each...as
well as whether or not they ejaculated into him. He has maintained these
journals ever since and the number of penises he has serviced to scrotal
completion is astounding.

Sadly, because these official tallies did not begin until the age of
fourteen, the numbers of men with whom the author had sex during his
earliest of grammar school years remains rather indeterminate. But let it
suffice to say, as the guestimate of the author (who remains lucid even at
the advanced age of forty) remains reliable, that the number of adult men
who enjoyed him in a "carnal way" -- from the first grade until the "Cum
Journals" began an official log -- would easily tally in the range of one
thousand different persons plus. That's a whole lot of defiling pervs who
got to shoot inside one grade-schooler's body!

And due to the staggering numbers of men our child cumpig protagonist
encounters, at times the perspective of the reader may seem in conflict with
that of the author. Whereas a typical reader with more, shall we say,
"limited" sexual experiences (especially as related to children spreading
their little buttcheeks or kneeing and "opening wide" for middle-aged men),
may not be able to relate to or comprehend the sheer numbers of adults who
molest our little hero in the tale which follows, the author, in actuality,
has had to limit or narrow the focus of these, his genuine experiences, in
order to make his childhood encounters seem "reasonable" to a more polite
audience. In other words, while some well-brought up pedo-bent readers may
be capable of getting their minds around a seven-year-old boy performing
lurid sexual acts with ten men, the author knows he's fudging it a bit by
paring down the actual numbers to a only a mere couple of hundred!

A final reminder: NONE of the acts or situations in "Whoring With Dad"
should be either condoned or acted out (with the exception of, perhaps,
going to your local Zoo - I'd hate to affect tourism). In order for Society
to understand itself, Society must first look at itself (which would include
men taking a long, very hard look at the wonderfully lurid swatch of it that
follows).

___________________________________________.

Whoring With Dad
Part Six: Jesus' Seconding Coming (Continuation)
or
The Father, The Son and...Hol(e)y Moly!

TrueLife tales by a denizen of the public toilets
By: Mr. gloryholeJUNKIE


I only much later found out that Maria was having other, rather significant
problems than merely a weak bladder as she made a mad-dash to the Ladies
Room. What mattered most to me that day at the zoo was that her troubles
simply allowed me more special 'alone time' with her boyfriend, the father
of her three month old baby -- and the prospect of feeling his thick, uncut
Mexican snake inside me once again.

I don't know what such hunger for sex with men is called when applied to a
little boy but I had precociously developed an intense desire to suck the
penis of every man I passed. And my small body literally tingled as I could
still feel Jesus' and the black man's huge cocks go up my butt. It was a
phantom pang of sodomy past - a feeling of my small frame being empty. I
somehow knew only yet another adult penis inside of me could fill that
sensation of void.

But before we headed to the Men's Room, I joined Jesus, who was lugging his
son in the wicker bassinet, over to a near-by drinking fountain. While I
stood along side as he drank, I happened to look passed him and spotted the
same gang of tough-looking teenagers we'd been encountering all day long.
They were laughing and acting all gooney as they went around to the back of
the brick restroom building, apparently disappearing into the Men's Room.

Once Jesus stepped back a couple of steps, toting Tomas in one hand, he
offered to pick me up with his free arm so I, too, could get a drink.
Although I wasn't heavy, I suppose his balance was thrown off because Jesus
nearly knocked Tomas into the side of metal water fountain. So he gently set
the baby's bassinet down on the cement between his legs before attempting to
pick me up for a second time. Tomas was awake but laid there quite
contentedly as he sucked on a plastic pacifier.

It was very hot and sunny by this point in the day so, being seven, I would
take a long gulping drink, with Jesus holding me, then stop, look down at
Tomas, and then take another long sip from the cold fountain waters. Because
I already had Jesus shoot his daddymilk into me, our contact gave me a boner
inside my pull up pants. Jesus' large tattooed hand, which cradled me,
grazed the tip of it and he laughed. "We get you inside there", he whispered
as he gestured toward the Men's Room.

No one around us would have ever guessed what was meant. He then held me
more tightly to the fountain and I could feel something very hard press into
my butt. Jesus obviously was struggling with an erection inside his jeans.
"You like", he stated. "Because you are bad boy."

People started to line up behind us for the water fountain. And so Jesus set
me down and quickly grabbed for the bassinet - more as a cover for his erect
bulge than for Tomas' safety.  With feet on the hot pavement once again, and
while Jesus quickly squatted to re-arrange his son's blanket, I noticed that
Maria had neatly folded my t-shirt and little jacket before tucking them
away as extra padding into one corner of Tomas' soft-sided bassinet. Not
wanting to put my shirt back on anyway and now, after having witnessed Jesus
slightly bump the bassinet into the metal water fountain, I felt even better
about my clothes remaining where they were - providing additional cushioning
for the baby.

"We go", Jesus said simply as he rose. Then, taking a hold of my small hand,
he led me directly over to the Men's Room.

Whoever designed the bathrooms at Lincoln Park Zoo had to have been a man
(or men) into tearoom sex. Some public restrooms are just like that - they
seem clearly designed to give fellas ample opportunity to do whatever they
need to do "for relief" while once inside. The entry was hidden from sight
at the rear of the large red brick building. And one had to walk a long
stretch of sidewalk, shaded in old elm trees, to find the outer door located
on the backside of the structure.

As soon as we started down the sidewalk, it was a pleasure. The cool shade
mixed with the anticipation of seeing Jesus unzip his jeans again had me all
hard and horny.  Directly facing the outer doors was a high concrete wall
(where perhaps elephants lived on its other side), which blocked any prying
eyes from ever being able to see the comings and goings of this Men's Room's
patronage. Even as a first-grader, I could sense this might be a fun place
to play. I truly would have squeezed Jesus' bulge right there and then -
even before getting inside the concealed safety of the Men's Room - had I
realized how truly undetected our pedophilic trysting spot would be.

The moment that Jesus pushed open the outer door, we could hear -- even
through a second set of metal interior doors -- voices laughing and whooping
it up inside. At that point, since I knew what he wanted to do again, I
suppose Jesus could have changed his mind and decided not to enter. But,
hearing the din of voices inside, although his face remained rather stoic, a
new tension emanating from his body told me that his sexual curiosity had
been piqued.  He squeezed my hand excitedly as he pushed open the interior
doors where we then found ourselves inside another large, rather damp and
dimly lit Men's Room.

At the sinks were three of the teen boys --splashing water and making
something of a general mess. At the urinals, were three more of the boys
standing, purportedly all taking a piss, their frames pressed to the
porcelain. And another three boys were simply standing around, smoking and
talking to their buddies as they waited -- or merely "loitered", as a sign
over their heads would suggest.

The instant we made our entrance, one could tell that this gang of revved-up
teens, all ranging in age from perhaps fourteen to sixteen, recognized us.
But our appearance also sent a modest, although only momentary, wave of
decorum around the room. The shouting and laughing abruptly ceased; the boys
at the sinks quit their splashing and the other guys smoking, spontaneously
stomped out their cigarettes.

Jesus, although saddled down with a small boy in one hand and his baby son
in a bassinet in the other, strode right up to one of the vacant urinals -
one on a far end. The boys all seemed to scrutinize his every move - as if
waiting to see how he'd handle his precious cargo of little ones as he went
to take a leak.

Jesus let go of my hand and pointed for me to take the only other unoccupied
urinal, which happened to be between two super tall teenage boys. I
hesitantly wandered up to the old-fashioned white urinal, which stood wedged
between a beefy, mean-looking older teen wearing a vest that had a skull and
crossbones painted on the back of it and another very tall but lankier boy
who had on the same sort of white tank t-shirt that Jesus wore. I can't say
that any of these teenagers were official "gang" members. Instead, they were
somewhat typical though certainly "urban-tough" city kids most probably from
one of the rougher public high schools on the Northside.

I heard some mild mumbling and then somebody behind us laughed a bit.

"SHUDDUP, loose bowelhead!", another of the boys sarcastically chastised.

Then some more, nasty tittering bounced around the room.

"Todd come out yet?", another of the teen guys softly asked his buddies.

"What? Cantcha hear the slurpin' still?", a red-haired boy said. One could
have heard a pin drop between their comments as these boys evidentially were
scoping out the territory through their words.

"Shhhhhh!", another replied, his head nodding, acknowledging our presence.
"Ittlel-ay dik-lay vero-lay heret-lay, uckheadf-lay!"

"Whaaaaaaadisay?", the other boy responded with a laugh to his friend's pig
latin warning.

I stood at the tall urinals and yet could see passed the lanky boy to my
left as Jesus shifted the bassinet a bit so he could get to his own zipper.
He stared directly ahead at the tile work with a most serious expression on
his goateed, latin face as he tugged out his giant snake of a penis.

I then innocently pulled down my pull up pants so I could go pee. The second
that I did that, exposing my smooth and tiny butt, I heard a "Whoa,
maaaaaan!" from one of the boys standing somewhere behind me.

"Man! Shut up!" another said in a muttered tone.

I peed and then just stood there hoping something might happen. I looked to
my right and could see the beefier teen-aged boy had stepped back a bit --
no longer hiding his crotch from view. I could now see his super big penis
hanging at my face-level as he just stood there in front of his urinal. His
daring lead seemed to have gotten his friend standing at his right to do the
same. I noticed them both looking over at me and then smirking to one other.

They were having fun playing a risky game with me. The beefier guy would wag
and wave his long, fat dick at me but then he'd quickly look over at Jesus
as if not wanting to get caught by him. Yet when he saw that Jesus was not
even looking ...but that I was...he and his friend would again obscenely wag
their meaty cocks.

"Fuuuuuuck, Bri...whatyadoing there?", laughed one of his buddies who
watched from the sinks area.

Suddenly I heard a squeaky door bang open. It was one of the stalls around
the corner from the row of urinals.

"He's free. Who's next?", a sort of gangly but nice-looking teen guy with a
large adam's apple asked. As he came into the open and double-checked his
zipper to make sure it was up, I figured he must be the one they called
Todd.

"Shhhhhh!", another voice again warned, nodding toward us as to make Todd
aware of our presence.

But as the tall, gangly Todd just shrugged and went over to the sinks,
another of the loitering boys went to the back from where he'd emerged. This
teen with a blue bandana on his head took Todd's same stall and shut the
door. It was as if they were all taking turns doing something back there.

This time though, within seconds, I, along with everyone else in the room,
could hear loud slurping noises emanating from the stalls. "Listen to that
old man go!", one of the boys who had been leaning on a trash bin laughed.

At that point, the group began to get edgier as they were apparently growing
hornier. The teen toughs decided to push the envelope, since they had to
know that any male worth his sperm-count could easily recognize those very
lewd yet all-too-familiar noises.

And it was this same lurid slurping which finally prompted Jesus to feel a
little bolder. He turned his head toward the noises, which resounded from
the poorly lit corner where the stalls were tucked away. Seeing that Jesus
now had to be fully aware of the surreptitious sexual antics going on in
this literal brickshithouse, the guys all bust out laughing.

"Fuuuuck! Old toothless cocksucker can't keep the noise down, can he?", the
handsome blonde-haired boy chuckled loudly and sarcastically. "Making this
daddy and his boy here all aware of his need for hot sperm."

I had no clue as to what the boy was talking about or what had them all
laughing so raucously. Who was needing hot sperm? What was sperm? It still
hadn't occurred to me that someone other than just that teenager wearing the
bandana was back there in the dark row of stalls.

But I could sense that everyone else in the place understood what was
occurring in the stalls, which were only a few feet away. The lanky teen
standing to my left between Jesus and I suddenly stepped back a bit from his
urinal. I was shocked to see this longhaired baby-faced teenager had a huge
erection coming out of the fly of his very tight acid-washed denim cut-offs.
There was no way Jesus could have missed seeing that - and the other teens
in the room knew it.

Again, there was a moment of silence as they all seemed to wait for Jesus to
start yelling at them or grabbing for me to leave...or anything that a
"normal" parent might do.

But instead, Jesus also pulled back from his urinal, exposing the obscene
length of his wrist-thick uncut chorizo. As he held the bassinet to his far
side, he gave the teens standing beside him and behind him a good look at
his adult erection.

There was some dirty laughing in the room and then, one of the boys said,
"Go ask the zookeepers if there are any bulls missing from their pens!" The
guys all laughed, as they were no doubt shocked to see Jesus showing hard
...and huge at the urinals. But then Jesus, again without even touching
himself, let his hot boner throb and throb and throb - giving the young
punks a real clear signal he was up to play.

"Dang geeeeeeeeeeeezzzzzzz! Dad showing major fuckin' equipment on Pisser
One, you guys...cool!", another boy teasingly said.

"And with his kids in tow no less!", another of the teens blurted out in
awe.

"Looks like daddy here needs to use the toothless wonder in the stalls!",
the gangly Todd suggested as groped himself over near the sinks.

The baby-faced, long haired teenager who stood along side of Jesus stepped
back some more and showed off his own long boner, trying to make it bounce
in tandem to Jesus' throbbing cock.

"Hot fuck". One of the teens at the sinks muttered low. "Dick party at the
urinals, you guys!"

"Buncha homos!" one of the laughing boys shouted out in a sardonic tone.
"Call the zoo cops...there's a buncha homos in here!"

At that same moment, his feeling pretty sure that Jesus was cool...super
cool...I felt the tall beefy teen, who stood along side of me, reach down
and goose my little butt.

I responded to his touch by looking up at the big older boy and smiling. My
penis, bigger than most other seven-year-olds, raged at its full five
inches. This was fun!

"Whoa...lookie at Bri", the handsome blonde teen shouted for his buddies to
hear. Anyone who may have first missed it, turned to watch the big teen
again shove his hand all the way down the back of my pants and then pull my
pull up pants down to my calves.

"What the ped-fuck you doing there, Bri?", the handsome blonde guy mocked
again.

The beefy muscled teen, named Bri, just gave his buddies a look, which at
once told them to pipe down...and that this was damn fine fun he was having.

Then the handsome blonde teen called out to Jesus, "Hey, you don't mind?"
referring to his friend, Bri, who was feeling me up.

Jesus didn't reply. His silence may have meant consent - or merely that he
didn't quite understand the horny boy's question. And since Jesus wasn't
stopping him, Bri didn't stop. He grabbed my two little cheeks and cupped
them into the palm of one large hand as he said, over his shoulder,
"Look...one hand, maw!... And he's way smoother than any chick, you guys."

There was a silence in the room as the teens watched the action develop fast
and serious at the row of urinals. They then looked at one another and with
shrugs, began to unzip their jeans as they watched Jesus, Bri and their
other friends at the urinals playing. Heck, they figured at that point, that
unzipping in the john to beat off their boners was nothing in comparison to
what they saw some kids' dad and their own buddy, Bri doing. In a flash,
they had their dicks out and were group jerking as they beheld a sight that
surely none had encountered before in their young lives.

"That dad is too cool!", one of the reedier adolescents said.

"Cool?", the strongly built and handsome blonde tough replied sarcastically
and with great elation. "This is one fun twisted fuck of a dad we got
ourselves here!"

A thin, big-dicked teen, furiously jerking as he watched his friend Bri poke
and prod at my ass with his fingers, chimed in, "First, masturbating
gorillas, now this. Wasn't he the dad that was in the penis hat today?"

The guys all laughed as they stared at the action and milked themselves.

Jesus still was toting Tomas' bassinet in his left hand as he began stroking
his erection with his tatted right hand. He was purposely showing the
baby-faced longhaired teen beside him how his foreskin moved back and forth
so easily along his precum-slick shaft. It was abundantly clear to the gang
of teens that Jesus didn't much care what occurred in front of him ...or
with his "sons".

The beefy muscled Bri then spontaneously caused me to stick out my butt. I
wasn't really even thinking about the group of older teenage boys looking at
my butt, as much as I was simply trying to meet his every prodding poke. And
finally, his thick middle finger slipped into my butthole. I don't know
whether or not he felt any of  Jesus' or McGee's daddymilk that they'd shot
into me earlier and which was still coating the walls of my pint-sized anus.

"Finger fucking him?", whispered one of the boys watching incredulously.

Bri just looked back at his buddies with an evil grin crossing his face,
obviously getting a huge adrenaline rush from his illicit actions.

"Let's see the dad screw his boy", the handsome blonde kid said aloud.
"Quick, Klein...run out and check that nobody's coming."

A very tall, very skinny but handsome youth packed his really long penis
back into his bright yellow sweatpants and like any gang's lackey
high-tailed it to the main doors of the Men's Room. He then went outside.
The others remained where they were looking on in depraved disbelief as
their big buddy, Bri, continued to aggressively finger-fuck me more and more
deeply while we stood at the urinals. They watched as his thick knuckle
disappeared up into my body as it tried to probe ever more aggressively.
With his other hand, he reached around my front and began to leisurely
masturbate my rock hard seven-year-old's woody. "Kid's got a really big
cock", he said to the others. "I think he's bigger than you, Shorty!"

One of the teens in the group, apparently Shorty, blushed as he continued to
stare at us and masturbate.

"I keep forgetting you got little brothers, Bri...", Todd teased. "You
anal-probe them like that at home, too, man?"

"Shut up!", Bri tossed back. "Never play with my own little brothers, you
perv!"

"Yeah, why do that when you can molest little kids at the Zoo, right,
Bri?!", the handsome blonde teen poked back at him in jest.

"Ain't like we know him or anything...", Bri replied with increased
shortness of breath as he plunged a second and then a third thick finger up
into my tiny butthole.

Then there was another momentary silence only punctuated by moist, slapping,
milking noises as eleven cocks were being masturbated.

"I wanna see the kid's dad screw that little kid's hole", the handsome
blonde teen reiterated. "What do say, guys, we get Chicano pops here to put
on a real show."

I don't know if the gang of toughs was beginning to wonder if Jesus didn't
speak English or if they assumed he wasn't interested in talking for obvious
reasons. But suddenly the baby-faced, longhaired teen playing with Jesus
stepped back from his urinal, indicating that Jesus should swap places with
him as to be next to where I stood. As Jesus took his spot, I could see the
teen, while taking a quick, "curious" feel of Jesus' bull boner, peer into
the bassinet. I don't know if it even quite occurred to these boys what it
was Jesus was carrying but the kid seemed floored to see a half-sleeping
infant within the large wicker bassinet.

"There's like a baby in this thing!", the baby-faced, longhaired boy
exclaimed as he continued to masturbate his teen boner not four inches above
the broad opening of the wicker bassinet.

"Uh, DUH!", his strongly built blonde buddy teased. "It's called a fucking
baby carrier, you dufus!"

At the same time, the brawny Bri squatted at the urinals and put his hands
on my waist as to turn me toward him and away from Jesus. The big teen had
done so in order to offer my tight rosebud to Jesus. By spreading my
buttcheeks real wide with his gripping and molesting teenage hands, he
obscenely displayed my seven-year-old fuckhole to Jesus and inadvertently to
the other guys in the room. "You screw your kid?", the beefy Bri
breathlessly asked Jesus in a low voice.

For some reason, I immediately piped up and said, "He's not my daddy."

"He's not?", Bri whispered in my ear. "Then who is he?"

I stood up a bit and cupped his ear to whisper back. "He took me here but
isn't my daddy.", I said.

Big beefy Bri stood up and looked at Jesus, "You the kid's dad or what?"

Jesus grinned and said, "No." in a very heavy accent.

Bri just started laughing. "Whoeee...listen to this you guys", he said
turning to the pack of horny teens. "Looks like this kid hardly even belongs
to this guy....he ain't even this kid's dad!"

One of the boys laughed, "He didn't look like he'd be no kid of that
horse-dicked Spic anyway."

A couple of others laughed to the racial slur.

"Maybe he's like dragged the kid in here to rape him...and then we walked
in...yeah...that's it!", another boy jested as he watched his friend Bri
again open my small buttcheeks for Jesus' impending penetration.

"Whose in the wicker thing then?", the baby-faced, longhaired teen asked
Jesus. Again, Jesus didn't reply. Without thinking, I blurted out, "That's
Tomas - he's his baby."

"Who was that dark chick with the huge tits they were with all day?", the
strong blonde boy asked in a demanding tone.

Jesus again didn't reply.

"Is she your mother?", Bri asked me.

"No...", I replied, not wanting to tell them who Maria was. I figured it was
best not to give these boys any further information. All I really wanted to
do anyway was suck on the fat long boner that stood out straight between the
Bri's big teen's long legs -- hanging only an inch or two from my lips.

So I leaned forward a bit, stabilizing myself by gripping Bri's high
school-linebacker thighs as I was bent over. Surprising even him, I then
opened my mouth and sucked in the head of his cock. The teenager's penis
tasted fresh and yet sweaty.

"Frrrrrrreeeeeakin' HOT!", one of the other boys shouted as they all resumed
jerking off in unison while they ogled my lips wrapping themselves around
their buddy's big sex organ.

"The kid's a freakin' fucking dicksucker!", the handsome blonde guys
declared. "I fuckin' knew it the second I saw him...ram it into his mouth,
man."

I felt good hearing the older boy say that so I opened my mouth wider and
let Bri shove more of his big teen penis inside my throat. I choked only
momentarily since he bashed into my child-sized uvula too forcefully the
first couple of plunges.

Bri stood there with this mixed expression of salacious delight and
dumb-founded amazement as he looked down to see his thick sixteen year old
boner shoved into the small throat of some first-grader.

"What a fuckin' ped scene, you perv!", one of his buddies said as they all
stepped up to the urinals for a closer look.

Bri said nothing. Instead he let me suck and slobber on his meat as his
jeans dropped further down along his muscular thighs, exposing a set of
smooth nuts hanging low and plump on him.

"Screw him...screw this little kid's butt for us to see", Bri then told
Jesus. There was a new air of confidence in Bri's voice as he apparently
felt some measure of relief that I was seemingly belonging to nobody. And
his evil grin betrayed not just a little glee that at what was at first just
a nasty game had quickly become the real and hardcore thing. "Let's see you
screw this little butt." Bri repeated as he again bent forward, (making sure
not to dislodge his erection from between my wet lips), spreading wide my
buttcheeks for Jesus.

"He won't do it", the handsome blonde tough said - sounding rather like a
challenge to Jesus.

But he didn't know Jesus ...or me. I wiggled by little butt at
Jesus...inviting...begging...for him to put his huge snake back up inside of
me.

The guys were all silent as my lewd motions caused them to anticipate what
might come next. They were not expecting me to be so willing, I suppose.
"The kid seems to want it, Chico...come on!" the strong blonde boy stated
looking at Jesus.

Jesus let the tip of his uncut cock slide along the crack of my baby smooth,
spread-wide-open butt.

Immediately upon seeing Jesus' initial and degenerate contact with my tiny,
puckered butthole, and almost not believing any man would actually go
through with such a thing, especially in front of a whole bunch of
adolescents, the strong blonde tough groaned in an almost rejoicing way,"Oh,
cool...fuuuuuuck, man...this guy's gunna do it!"

Jesus let his precum ooze generously along my rosebud, making it slick for
any penetration to follow. He ran the length of my opened boy-crevice
multiple times until I was all shiny and sticky and slippery back there.

But there was a problem. Jesus was still carrying Tomas in his other hand.
There was not enough space to either balance or maneuver very well -
especially if he was to show the teen boys how a real man (even a
"horse-dicked Spic") could screw a grade-school whore in the sleazy public
toilets.

Without much thought, Jesus set down his son's bassinet just as he had done
early when we got a drink of water at the fountain. He placed it gently on
the dirty tiled floor directly in front of the urinal where he was standing
and then he straddled it. I suppose that was some nod to keeping the baby
safe or something. He then was free to grab my slender little hips with both
his hands as he aimed his big cock directly at my puckered rosebud.

"He's freakin' gunna do it!", one of the boys exclaimed as they stood in a
semi circle watching and jerking off like mad.

I relaxed my butt muscles so the cock that I knew would rip into me in a
moment's time would not feel so horrible upon entry. I nursed harder on big
Bri's cock and held on tighter to the boy's muscled thighs for support.

In one smooth lunge, Jesus entered me. The penetration seemed easier than it
had been earlier in the day. Perhaps it was all the daddymilk still inside
of me that made my baby buttcunt an easy ride. Or I guess my small anus was
slowly stretching and able to take an onslaught of big man cock more easily
the more often I was allowed to bend over for it. And with Bri holding open
my buttcheeks and all that copious precum lubing me up, the sight of Jesus'
thick snake disappearing up inside my small body cavity caused some of the
on-looking teen toughs to gasp.

Jesus got in only one or two stroking fucking when the outer doors opened
again. The tall lanky kid who had been sent to stand sentry had returned.

"Whole bunch of people coming!", he warned in a breathless way. He then
looked at the scene at the urinals and said, "Shit! Holy fucking muthas! You
guys are doing the kid?"

Jesus withdrew immediately and, like the boys all around, struggled to
speedily stuff his cock back into his jeans. He then had enough presence of
mind, at least, to pull up my pants in one quick move.

Bri gestured for Jesus to grab the bassinet and me and get into one of the
stalls. We hurriedly made our way over to the deep, dark recesses of the
vast room where the row of stalls was nearly hidden from view. The teenagers
all went back to the same positions they'd had upon our entry - some at the
sinks, some at the urinals, the rest hanging out smoking.

Just as we found ourselves in a dank mini-corridor, passing stall doors, one
of them suddenly swung open. It was the teen guy in the bandana who had gone
down there earlier ...for something. He'd apparently heard the commotion and
got nervous. As he came out and returned to his buddies, Jesus directed us
to squeeze into this now vacated stall - simply because it seemed the
handiest and voices were fast approaching.

Jesus quickly shut the door behind us, trying hard not to have Tomas'
bassinet hit the partitioned wall. As he did so, I could hear one of the
teens tell his friend who'd been in the stall, "Cool it, man. Nothing...just
some people."

I could hear Jesus' heart pounding as we all huddled together in the stall.
For a super tough Mexican guy, he almost looked a little scared. He put his
finger to his lips as to tell me to be very, very quiet. He stood listening
for whatever was to come.

In a burst of noise, a whole bunch of new voices came pouring into the
restroom. They were talking and laughing. I could hear one man say, "Stay
close to us, guys...buddy system...don't wander off."

Another man said, "Hold your horses and get in line...you can hold it until
one is free."

Evidently they were chaperones or maybe scoutmasters leading a group on
their bathroom break.

Jesus stood beside me in the tight confines of the stall, which I noticed
was covered in big, naughty drawings of enormous penises dripping in
daddymilk. Although we were relieved that the newcomers apparently weren't
cops or zoo officials, Jesus was breathing hard. But, fortunately, although
Tomas had awakened, he just lay quietly in his bassinet. He was such a
mellow baby.

We waited maybe a minute or two like that. I could hear the men tell the
boys they were to wash their hands when they were done and then to go stand
outside with a Mr. Lyons. And once outside, they were tell this Mr. Lyons to
send in the next ten boys. Slowly, very slowly it seemed, the place would be
clearing out.

Through all the din of commotion at the urinals and sinks, we couldn't tell
what the tough gang of teens was doing. We didn't know whether or not they
had decided to loiter some more or to exit.

While I looked at Tomas and re-adjusted the pacifier which had started to
fall from his lips, I realized that his father's hefty crotch was right in
front of me. So I did what I wanted and reached out to grope Jesus' hard
mound - right through his jeans. He was listening intently to the action at
the sinks -- but let me feel him up freely.

But then within only a few seconds of my touching Jesus, I gasped as I saw a
hand - a person's hand - reaching through a big hole in the metal partition
that separated the stalls. I retracted slightly as Jesus and I both watched
in silence while this big, disembodied hand came into our stall. It then
found and grabbed Jesus, lasciviously, by his well-packed crotch. I watched
as the anonymous hand slowly pawed and fondled Jesus' meaty crotch.

My mouth must have opened as I had never ever seen a hand come out of a hole
before! And who was this that was feeling up Jesus? One thing was for
certain; it was someone other than I who also wanted what Jesus had packed
inside his tight jeans!

Jesus said nothing and remained extraordinarily expressionless. He simply
stood there allowing the hand to feel him up in this most intimate sort of
way. I took the opportunity to see it was a hairy, thick-wristed hand, which
invaded our stall - one wearing a beat up old Timex watch.

I looked up at Jesus as if to say something but he quickly placed his finger
to his lip once again. My eyes dropped back down to his crotch and saw the
hand all over it. The hand squeezed and firmly held Jesus by the bulging
denim of his jeans. The hand then wandered up and under Jesus' tank t-shirt,
apparently enjoying the rock hard furry abs it found there. Jesus helped the
phantom hand by raising up his tight t-shirt, exposing his taut lower
abdomen. The big hand then traced its fingertips along those rippling abs it
could reach.

Then the hand moved off of Jesus and grabbed into the air as if "looking"
for something. It clawed into space and then clawed again finding nothing.
But then it suddenly grasped again and found the side of my face. For a
brief second, the contact had whacked my cheek but then the hand became very
gentle as it apparently realized it had found what it had been seeking. This
big hairy hand slowly stroked the side of my face and then ran its way along
my jaw. It found my mouth and gently prodded a finger at my lips.

As if by auto-reflex, I spontaneously opened my mouth and let the hand's
index finger worm its way across my wet tongue. As if by force of nature (or
new and incorrigible habit), I sucked on the thick finger as if it were a
small penis. I looked up at Jesus who just gave me a fast wink as he
continued to listen for noises from the urinals area.

The finger than slithered out of my mouth and the hand quickly retracted
back into its hole. But then an eyeball appeared in its place! There was
someone looking into our stall! It had to have been an eyeball belonging to
the hand! But who would be doing such a thing?

I leaned forward and looked right into a blood-shot yet very blue eyeball.
It then pulled away and I was able to look through the five-inch diameter
hole, which had oddly been banged out of the metal partitioning perhaps
three or so feet above the crumbling tiled flooring. Although its edges were
worn smooth, looking as if this big hole had been in use for a very long
time, it almost appeared as if someone had to have tossed a cherry bomb at
the wall to make it. It tore into the metal leaving a whopper of a hole as
only a small bazooka might! At seven, I was amazed there could be a hole
like that anywhere. And why would men want one in a wall anyway?

As I peered in, I saw an older gray-haired man, with a couple of days growth
of silver whiskers and a toothless mouth, leaning back as he sat on his
toilet seat. He looked really worn out but was smiling right at me, showing
me a wide set of wet gums. My eyes dropped slightly too see he had his plaid
Bermuda shorts down at his ankles almost covering his old plastic
flip-flops. And he had his light blue polo-style shirt, with a pack of
cigarettes in the chest pocket, raised up his trim belly. He spread his legs
wider as to purposefully expose himself to me more fully. All the while he
very slowly milked his very long but somewhat flaccid penis which was
surrounded by gray hairs.

I pulled back and the moment that I did so, the old man returned to the
hole. With his bloodshot blue eye, he looked me over and then up to where
Jesus was towering high above. He then scanned down Jesus' tight physique
where his stare clearly spotted the bassinet. Then his eye disappeared and
once again the hand came through the hole to help itself to another generous
squeeze of Jesus' big crotch.

And like an expert, the old man's hand crawled up to Jesus' waistband and
then deftly, smoothly (and like he'd done it a million times before),
unbuttoned the top button of his jeans. The old fingers then found the small
tab of Jesus' zipper and in a smooth, slow action, tugged it down. The man's
hand did this gingerly, knowing that the zipper rode along the contours of
his hung target's bulge. I watched in amazement as this hand got into Jesus'
jeans without even being able to see where it was going. Apparently the old
man had done this innumerable times before and simply knew the way inside a
guy's pants, well, like the back of his own hand.

Jesus just stood there, enjoying the attention of this aggressive hand. He
looked down to watch every move as the old man began to massage his thick,
fat boner through his underwear. Again, in a flash, the hand pulled down the
waistband of Jesus' inexpensive white underpants, pulling the elastic away
from his taut abdomen, trying to free the long, hard erection within.

I watched while the hand then seemed to bask in some joy as it gently
stroked the full length of Jesus' meaty shaft, pulling on the uncut cock
knowing the milking was getting Jesus' foreskin all slick again as it
drooled amber juices. The hand, now coated in sticky precum, dug underneath
a little to heft out Jesus' large heavy scrotum. Then the hand tugged on
Jesus' huge boner as though it were the handle of a big piece of machinery.
It pulled not hard but demandingly toward the hole and I could see that
Jesus momentarily lost his footing. He placed his own strong, tattooed hand
around the wrist of the hand telling it to stop...or, rather, to wait.

Jesus looked around the stall. Although there was a wide ledge behind and
atop the toilet tank itself, he shook his head. I didn't know why at first.
Then he evaluated the small space some more. Realizing he had no other
option, he cautiously set down Tomas in his bassinet onto the old, poorly
maintained tiled floor. Since it wouldn't fit anywhere else really, Jesus
practically wedged it along one side of the toilet bowl -- between the tank
and the partition dividing our stall from that of the old man.

Unlike some other restrooms where the partition nearly reaches the floor, in
these stalls, there was a rather high, gaping distance from the floor to the
bottom of the metal partitions - a clearance of perhaps sixteen or so
inches. Although it made the bassinet virtually accessible to the other
stall, it allowed the bassinet to be as out of the way as it could be given
the tight confines in which we found ourselves.

And it had to be done since Jesus apparently wanted to stick his big boner
through that giant hole!


To be continued...
Mr.gloryholeJUNKIE
gloryhole_junkie@hotmail.com
