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Window Boy [mm/pedo/young]

All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
Window Boy

He shuffled along the sidewalk and watched pebbles skitter into the
bushes, dragging his dingy sneakers through the grime.

I had been watching him for a while now. He performed for me several
times a day. No one to play with. All alone. I didn't know where he
lived or who was watching him, but they weren't very attentive. Once,
he had turned toward the bushes down the street, barely still within
my sight. My heart fluttered as he pushed his shorts and little
briefs all the way down to his ankles and emptied his bladder. My
excitement was piqued by his apparent lack of shame. He was still too
young to be forced to conform.

I stood at the window trying to catch his gaze, without actually
beckoning him. He saw me once and stopped, for a moment. His brief
look was only of curiosity. I smiled as he turned away. He probably
hadn't seen me giving him my best "come here little boy" look.

All later attempts at "willing" him to stop in front of my window to
pee, failed. It wasn't as though I expected him to hear my mental
begging, but it was all I could do to lure him to me.

I formed a plausible version of his life in my mind - single parent,
other kids, inattentive mom, low income. He was always dirty. Kids
get dirty, but not all the time. Nobody combed his unkempt hair in
the morning. Nobody washed it at night. This wasn't so uncommon
here. Two blocks down the street, the rent plummeted.

I left the curtains open all day. When the kids came laughing and
running home from school, I could sit and watch them play in the
street. Nothing gave me more pleasure than the smile of a child.
Well, almost nothing.

I caught him watching the TV through the window the other day. We
startled each other. I had just turned the corner at the bottom of the
staircase and there he was.

Pure fear.

His expression told me everything I needed to know about him. Not a
guilty child who was caught doing something he shouldn't. Not the
surprised look that I had.

Terror was not a look I often saw in young children. People usually
try to protect their kids from things that cause such a reaction.

I moved quickly to the window as he backed away.

"Don't worry, I'm not mad at you," I smiled at him.

His fear turned to curiosity at the smiling man in the window. He
knew I couldn't hurt him from behind glass.

He stuck his tongue out at me and I laughed. A surprised look crossed
his face when I stuck my tongue out and pressed my face to the window.

We made faces at each other for a minute, and then just stood staring.
I had him undressed in my mind, and was getting interested in the

I pointed towards the entrance to my building and motioned for him to come
in. He didn't hesitate at all in turning towards the entrance and
running up to the gate. He knew I was safe.

I flew down the staircase to meet him. Wild, evil, exciting thoughts
ran through my brain. I saw him with his tiny hands grasping the wire
of the fence. I had to force myself to slow down to a walk. Fuck the
neighbors! I had come too far to turn back now. I wasn't going to
let this boy down after I had tempted him.

"Hi," I said through the fence.

He didn't answer.

"You want to come in?" I offered.

He nodded shyly.

I opened the gate and he slipped in beside me. Not too close, though.
I urged him to follow me back up the stairs, and he did. I ushered him
into my home and he stopped to look around. I made sure that I didn't
get between him and the door. I wanted him to feel at ease here.

"You can watch cartoons, if you want."

I positioned him on the floor in front of the TV and sat down behind
him, on the couch. He watched "Tom and Jerry", and I watched him.

He was filthy.

"You hungry?"

He shrugged.

"Peanut butter and jelly?" I asked.

He nodded.

I got up and made him a sandwich and some chocolate milk. I pushed it
across the rug to him and started to hand him the milk. I looked at
his hands as he reached for the glass, and pulled it back.

"Go wash your hands first!"

I pointed towards the bathroom.

He pushed himself up and ran down the hall. I heard the water - for
only a second - and he came running back.

"Let me see," I said.

Still wet, he extended his hands towards me. Muddy brown streaks were
still evident. I turned him back towards the bathroom and pushed him
along. I ran the water and held his hands under while I scrubbed them
with the soap. For good measure, I cleaned up his face.

"You're a good looking kid under all that dirt," I said, smoothing back
his knotted hair with my wet hands.

That got me a shy smile.

He really was a good looking kid. Dark, dark eyes, but light brown
hair and skin. I could see some mixing of races in him, but nothing
stood out - he was a "mutt". I dried him off and slapped his little
butt, sending him running off to his snack. I followed him and sat
back on the couch.

He started to look back at me every few seconds. I smiled at him each
time. He smiled back. I stuck out my tongue and he replied by
showing me a mouthful of half-chewed sandwich. I couldn't keep from
laughing. He was thrilled at my reaction and came up to me with his
mouth open - drooling food down his chin.

"Yuck, yuck, YUCK!" I said, catching pieces of the sandwich as they
fell from his mouth. He thought that was even funnier. I picked him
up under my arm and brought him into the kitchen. I washed his face
in the sink and cleaned him up again. He squirmed and laughed and
tried to keep me from doing anything useful. Just another game to
him. I didn't mind at all.

Semi-respectable again, I pushed him back towards the TV and he clung
to my leg this time. I walked to the couch with the boy welded to my
calf. I sat down and he stayed put, giggling. I released his grip
with a few well-placed tickles, and he squealed with delight. He
turned back towards his food, but only to get a running start at me.

While the laughing, smiling boy was airborne, a thousand thoughts
went through my head - not the least of which was that he would do
whatever I wanted. I had shown him a little attention - the smallest
affection possible - and I knew he would repay me however I asked.

I caught him and wrestled him to the floor. My hands roamed freely
under his t-shirt. I felt his smooth skin and tiny ribs. My
fingers traced along his spine and touched the fine, delicate hairs
at the base of his neck. He scrunched up his shoulders, trapping my
hand behind his head. I stroked his sides with the back of a
fingernail. He played with abandon. There was nothing to fear here;
he could do anything he wanted, be anyone he wanted, and escape from
reality for a few hours. Nothing else mattered while we were together
- not to him, and not to me.

I lay back on the floor with the boy on top of me. He bent down and
rubbed his nose across mine. He pulled back a few inches to focus and
I stuck my tongue out at him. He stuck out his tongue, and licked my
nose. My first reaction was to lick him back, but I waited for more
of a sign from him. He sat up on my stomach and looked at me for a
reaction. I didn't betray any feelings one way or the other.

With a very deliberate gesture, he licked his finger. Slowly, he
brought it down to my face and wiped it across my cheek. I could feel
the moist boy-spittle cooling on my skin and I broke a slight smile.
He did this again and again, never getting his expected "stop that"
command from the adult. He squashed his face into mine again, rubbing
saliva over both of us. I pulled his face back an inch or two and
playfully nibbled his nose. He threw his arms around my neck and
started kissing me all over my face. I started to return his kisses,
trying to maneuver myself closer to his mouth.

I sat up and the boy slid into my lap facing me. I stroked back his
hair and caught the knots in my hand. Would his mother notice if I
gave him a bath? She didn't seem to notice when he was dirty. I
licked his nose, leaving a shiny spot on the tip. He smiled a perfect
little smile at me and buried his face in my chest. I turned his head
up towards mine, letting his chin dig into my sternum, and kissed him
on the lips. I licked my lips and did it again. He stuck his tongue
out at me and I licked it.

He pulled back a little, wondering what this new feeling was. I
lowered my head again and stuck out my tongue. He leaned forward and
sniffed at it. I curled up the end and licked his nose. He
giggled and gave my tongue a long, slow lick.

The sensations were great for both of us. I was familiar with this
pleasure, but it was certainly a new treat for the boy. We stuck our
tongues straight out and "fought" them across each other's faces,
ending up covered with spit.

I pushed myself up straight again and looked down at my friend. His
eyes sparkled with happiness. I pulled up my sweatshirt, exposing my
torso, and pulled it down over his head. He squirmed up to the neck
and popped his head through. I could feel his excited heart beating
against me, and his breath came in short, hot blasts against my neck.
He pulled back down inside my sweatshirt and started to contort
himself against my stomach. It took me a moment to realize what he
was doing, and then he pushed his shirt off. He replaced his head
next to mine and I felt the luxuriant softness of his hot, little body
against mine. I began to grow anxious for release.

His hands explored the hot recesses of my underarms. He plucked at my
nipples and stroked my flesh. I held him close to me and closed my
eyes. My mind wandered, while he prodded and poked me. I reached
down and removed one of his shoes. He looked up at me, puzzled.

I gave him a reassuring smile and pulled off the other shoe. I stroked his
back lightly and allowed my hands to wander towards his belt-line. I
felt the short ridge of elastic that held his briefs tightly against
his body. My hand traveled between his briefs and pants. Too tight
to go very far, I stopped after a few inches, stroking the cloth into
the cleft of his cheeks. His eyes, trusting and happy, looked into
mine for a way to make me happy - to ensure that I wouldn't leave him;
wouldn't stop touching him.

He reached down and tugged off his socks. Moments later, I felt his
feet walking up my chest and then appearing on each side of my neck.
He was bent in half up inside my shirt. I pondered what this
position would be like if both of us were naked. I imagined his happy
smile still there while I was inside of him, happy because he was
making me happy. I pushed the vision away - for a while.

Holding this boy close to me was the first human contact I'd had in a
long time. I guessed the same thing about him. I pulled off my shoes
and socks and leaned back flat on the floor again as he moved his legs
down below his waist. He looked into my eyes as I tried to read his
thoughts. Do you want me to keep going? Can you even conceptualize how I
feel about you? ...Or the things I want to do to you?

Terrible, terrible things, they say. I can understand that, but it
doesn't make it any easier for me, or this boy. Was this the only
happiness he would look back on? Would he fondly remember a fuzzy
image of a gentle man who cared and loved him or would his therapist
twist my feelings into reasons for the future antisocial actions of an
angry young man?

I didn't have to answer these questions. The boy did that for me.

After a moment, he slid away me and stood up. I stared at his small
tummy with its slight "outie" navel. His tan nipples barely pointed
out from his chest. He stood there, with my eyes locked on his,
thinking. I waited for something, anything. I tried to project my
love out to him. I wanted to convince him that I needed him as much
as he needed me.

He adjusted his genitals inside of his pants and his hand lingered
there. My eyes darted to the spot where he kneaded himself. I looked
back up at his face and he seemed to understand. He unsnapped the
fastener at the top of his pants and lowered the zipper. I watched as
a v-section of white underwear was revealed. My heart pounded in my
ears. The anticipation could be the best thing of all. He pushed his
dirty pants down to his knees. His stained briefs clung at the base
of his penis, but had slid easily down his backside. He pulled off
his pants completely and stood there, waiting for me to say, or do,

My hands moved towards him and I slowly lowered his underwear. Tiny
creases pointed towards his small genitals. I gently lifted the
elastic band away from his body and removed his last remnant of
clothing. He nibbled at one of his fingernails, as he scratched his
butt with the other hand. Completely naked and unafraid, he looked
at me curiously, wondering what I had in store for us next. I
wondered too.

His scrotum held his tiny testicles close to his body. The shaft of
his penis was a small, white finger between his legs. He was a
beautiful, uncircumcised little boy. I patted him on the leg, just
above the knee, and kept my hand there, massaging the flesh. His penis
was more developed than usual for a boy his age. The shaft, though
unaroused, was an inch and a half long with another half-inch
of foreskin. This was not the normal, barely visible button of a
child. This kid had something going for him!

He reached down and tugged at his foreskin, stretching it out to an
inch or so. He rolled the soft skin between his thumb and forefinger
for a moment before giving it another tug.

"Do you gotta pee?" I asked.

He nodded.

I stood up and he reached for my hand. I allowed the boy's fingers to
clasp my hand and I walked him to the bathroom. I looked down at the
naked boy and watched his body move across the room. I lusted after
his body, but my heart went out to him. He'd had so much pain in his
short life; did he really need another person taking advantage of him?
He tugged on his penis again as I directed him towards the toilet. I
raised the seat and stood behind him. He rocked his head back and his
hair rubbed my crotch, and my straining erection. I pointed for
him to start peeing and he concentrated to make sure he loosened the
correct muscles. A clear, powerful stream of urine exited his tight
foreskin and sprayed everywhere but in the bowl. That got me a
fearful look from the boy, but he got a smile and shoulder shrug from
me. I lowered my hands to his and helped him adjust his aim. I could
feel the rushing liquid just below the surface of his penis as I
brushed up against it. I concentrated on helping him empty his
bladder and didn't think about that lovely organ so close to my hands.

He motioned that he was done by flailing his penis wildly to free the
last droplets of urine. I used a small wad of toilet paper to dab him
dry where he'd hit himself and then leaned down to quickly clean up
some of the larger puddles on the floor.

On my knees, I was no more than six inches away from his penis. I
could see the tight ring of skin at the tip that made a sensuous
pucker of pink flesh. I could make out his tiny glans hidden safely
deep inside. A tiny drop of urine leaked from his orifice and I
dabbed it off. He giggled and tugged at himself again. I playfully
dabbed at him again and smiled. He laughed and pulled at his penis
more deliberately - and slowly. He worked himself over, feeling some
kind of sensation building, but not sure what. I watched, fascinated
by his masturbation. He stopped and moved closer to me. I wanted to
grab him and take him in my arms, but waited, hoping he would lead me in
that direction. He placed a small hand on my shoulder and pressed his
genitals into my chest. Then he slid down the front of my body until
our faces were together and kissed me on the lips. I opened my mouth
slightly and allowed my tongue to wander towards his mouth. Slowly,
very slowly, I explored his teeth and felt their pearly smoothness.
He opened his mouth to meet my advances and firmly pressed his face
against mine. His small tongue wormed its way into my mouth and we
explored each other.

My legs were trembling under me. I didn't want this to ever end. I
took my cue from the boy. As he ground his penis into my sweatshirt,
I caressed his perfect, smooth butt and back. He moved around,
constantly trying to get more sensations out of his young body.

Finally, I felt like I would topple over. My heart was pumping blood
into my ears and my need for oxygen couldn't be met through my nose.
I pulled gently away from him. He kept moving closer and closer, not
wanting to break the contact. Finally, I had to hold him firmly by the
shoulders while I backed off. He looked at me like I had wounded him.
I smiled back at him and ran my hand over his hair again. I looked
down and was greeted by a stunning boy-erection. It pointed straight
up into the air, against his flat tummy. I could barely make out the
pale, pink head peaking out from the stretched sheath. His glans was
easy to make out now. The step down from the rim was outlined
perfectly and I had to catch my breath. His penis was easily two inches
and as big around as my little finger. A perfectly formed little man.

"Let's go upstairs and clean you up a little bit," I said.

He nodded and I stood up. Instantly, he clamped his hand to mine and
we walked up the staircase never looking at anything but each other.
I stood him on the sink and ran a washcloth through the hot water. He
stood in front of me, completely at home with his nakedness and
totally trusting anything I did. His erection had started to subside,
but the fullness of his genitals was still evident, and driving me
slowly insane.

I sponged off the covering of dirt on his body. At his age, I could
have gotten this dirty in one day, so it was hard to tell how long it
had been since he'd had a bath. I didn't want to get him too
clean and raise suspicions in the mind of whomever he belonged to. I
cupped his testicles in my right hand and dripped soapy water onto his
penis. He giggled at my touch and my hands trembled at finally being
able to caress him there. I wormed my little finger into the tube of
flesh covering his glans. He jumped back slightly when I finally
bumped into the small, pink tip. He had never been unsheathed - his
foreskin was too tight for that. I cleaned him as best I could and
tried to stretch the opening of his sheath slightly. That wasn't in
his plan and he whimpered slightly when I tried too hard. I removed my
finger and patted his rump reassuringly.

"Don't worry. If you don't want me too, I won't."

He smiled back, relieved that I wasn't going to force him into
anything. He didn't have to worry about that. My manipulation of
his penis had brought him to full erection again. He glistened with
the slick, soapy water and I slowly began to masturbate him, pulling
back his foreskin as much as I thought he could handle and then
bunching it back up to the tip. He certainly enjoyed the attention,
but I couldn't tell if it was just from being touched by me, or having
his penis rubbed that made him smile. I dried him off and spent some
extra time examining his tiny package. He really was well formed and
I salivated at the possibility of sucking him off. I wrapped the
towel around his shoulders and slid it down his back to finish drying
him off as he scooted closer to me. He placed his hands on my
shoulders and leaned forward. His face was in mine again and he stuck
his tongue out, signaling that he wanted more action. I obliged and
we tongue-wrestled again as I caressed his tight butt.

I dropped the towel and he took that as the signal to jump on me. He
tightly wrapped his legs around my chest and pulled my face into his.
I cupped his ass in my hands and began to lightly tickle his hole. He
moved in my hands, unable to stand the feelings of that most tender
spot. He laughed into my mouth as his little tongue danced across my
lips, and then finally settled down. I slipped a finger into my mouth
and began to rub it across his anus. He immediately became
comfortable with my movements and pushed back against me. I felt him
open slightly, in an attempt to increase his pleasure.

It was time for me to finish this off before I exploded all over
myself. I carried the boy into my bedroom and sat down with him on
the bed. I reluctantly broke our kiss and placed him next to me. He
stretched himself out completely and yawned. I began to remove my
sweatshirt, which caught his interest immediately. He sat up, keeping
one hand in his lap, manipulating himself. I quickly removed my
shirt and my pants, leaving only my straining briefs. My aroused penis
was obvious through the tight cotton and he grabbed for it with his
free hand. He tried to gauge my length by moving his hand up and down
the shaft. He yanked on me, trying to pull off my underwear.

"Wow, little guy! Don't pull me, just the cloth!"

I held out the elastic band for him to grab onto and he pulled it down,
freeing my erection.

For a moment, he stared at my dripping pecker, and then he moved his
other hand over to grab on. Using both hands, he explored me, pulling
my pubic hair, squeezing my glans, and testing my shaft. I decided to
shuck my shorts completely and moved back from him slightly. I
wriggled out and lay back, spreading myself open for him to look at.
He moved right in and started pawing at me with his tiny hands. The
feelings, though rough, were incredible. I grabbed his wrists and
pulled him up along my body until our penises touched, and stroked his
head as it pressed against my chest. He slipped his penis against
mine, searching for pleasurable feelings. I basked in his warmth and
softness. My sensitized glans was on the verge of triggering an
orgasm, and I wasn't ready yet - I still had fantasies to fulfill.

I pulled him up to a sitting position on my stomach and started to
kiss him. I moved from his face to his chest and nipples. I lightly
sucked each tiny point and licked him all over. I puckered my lips
and made wet, farting sounds on his stomach. He laughed out loud,
loving the feeling and the sound. I continued on his back as he
kicked and squealed with delight. I moved down to his delicate ass
and sounded off another blast. He twitched and screamed. I moved
closer to his anus with each noise and quickly reached my goal. I
planted a particularly loud, wet one right on his little hole. He
thrust his ass back into my face, begging for more attention. I
started from the back of his scrotum and took a long, slow lick at his
ass that ended at the base of his spine. The taste of that boy is
indescribable. It was the essence of his being. He looked back at me
curiously - as if realizing what I had just done was forbidden. I
smiled and raised an eyebrow to inquire if I should continue. I
stroked his side and he smiled. I moved my face away from his ass and
he slid back to keep me close. I nipped at his buttocks and he
giggled again, spreading his ass cheeks wide open. I drove my tongue
straight into his beautiful hole and licked for all I was worth. He
sighed loudly and jiggled his ass to make the most use of my tongue.
I ate out his butt for five minutes straight and then sat back to

I leaned back on my elbows as the boy turned around to look at me. My
penis flopped to one side of my stomach and drizzled a small amount of
clear fluid. He noticed it immediately and wiped it up with his
fingers. He tested the stickiness of it by touching his fingers
together and then pulling them apart. Little silver strands of my
juice connected his fingers together as he flexed his hand.

I took his hand and pulling it to my face, licked his fingers. I made
a yummy sound and smiled. I placed his hand back in the puddle on my
stomach and wiped more onto him. I coaxed his hand to his mouth and
he eagerly licked it. He cleaned his fingers and then wiped up more.
When he finished licking his hand clean again and started back for
more, I stopped him. I pulled his head down and he understood
immediately. I felt his tongue licking up every bit his could find.
He cleaned me off and then looked up. I slowly milked my penis until
a drop formed at the tip. I held it there for him to see. He looked
into my eyes and I looked back at him. I knew he would do it, but the
thrill was still great when he took that first, tentative lick at my

I wanted to shove my whole cock down his throat and ejaculate straight
into his belly, relieving myself of the teasing torment I was feeling.
I knew that I could never do anything like that to a boy though. My
utmost interest was still in making him happy. If I didn't come with
him, it wouldn't be the first time I'd had to finish myself after
pleasuring a boy. If he went away happy, that was enough for the
first time. But if there was any way I could climax with his help, I
wasn't going to pass it up.

His licks became bolder. More of his tongue covered me with every
pass. My penis glistened and I continued to milk myself for his
pleasure. He finally popped his mouth over the whole end of my rod.
I tensed for a moment, forcing back my orgasm for a few more moments.
His teeth grazed at my most sensitive parts as his tongue searched for
more of my tasty liquids. It hadn't been so long that he didn't
remember what a bottle was for and he reflexively began to suck. He
opened wider and wider and my penis slipped inside of his mouth. His
cheeks puffed out comically to make room for me. I softly placed my
hands on the back of his head and moved him up and down. On each down
stroke he took a tiny bit more flesh into his greedy mouth. As far as
he was concerned, this was solely for him. All he wanted was that
good tasting stuff and this was where it came from. He coughed and
sputtered after two and a half inches were inside of him and I backed
off slightly. I used one hand to make sure he kept his rhythm up and
the other to stroke my lower shaft. I relaxed completely, letting the
sight and sound of the boy working on my cock fill my mind.

My orgasm built again and I waited for it to billow forth into the
kid. I wondered how he would react when I sprayed semen inside of
him. Hopefully I would be able to keep myself from forcing his head
down further on my hard-on, choking him. I always thought that one of
these times I would pull out of the surprised boy and watch the jets
of my load splatter across his startled face. I thought it would be
worth the loss of momentary pleasure to have that picture indelibly
etched on my mind. Unfortunately I had always chickened out at the
last moment and chosen the pleasure, only being able to see the small
rivers of goo trail out of their frantically slurping little mouths.

This time wasn't any different. I wanted to come in his mouth,
because I knew he wanted me to. He was doing this because he wanted
more of what I had to give and I was more than willing to satisfy both
of us. I removed my hand from the back of his head, in anticipation
of my impending peak, and grabbed a handful of sheets. I wasn't going
to take any chances on freaking him out by accident.

I came quickly, before I actually expected it. I hadn't been this
excited for a long time. My chest was flushed scarlet and I gasped as
each spurt pumped out into the little boy. Seven, ten, fifteen
productive squirts. Each delivering a jolt of pleasure to me and a
gob of sperm to the kid. My semen streamed out of his mouth and down
my shaft, like every other time I'd initiated a boy into the wonderful
world of oral sex. He didn't seem as surprised as most of them
and he proceeded to clean me up with his tongue, somehow
knowing that nothing more was coming out.

He licked up and down my softening shaft and cleared the drops out of
my stringy, sweaty pubic hair. I felt the softness of his tongue
against my scrotum and I relaxed, drowning myself in the feelings.

I finally looked up at the boy and watched him licking his fingers to
make sure he had every last bit. He didn't look sad, angry, hurt,
scared, or worried one little bit. He sat up straight, rubbed his
stomach, and smiled a self-satisfied smile at his job well done. I
rubbed my hands up and down his arms, smiling back at him. He scooted
closer, pulling himself over my wet penis and planting his ass on my
chest. He leaned forward, as if to kiss me and then stopped. His
face looked puzzled and he wriggled his stomach. Barely inches from
my face he belched loudly. His hot breath, smelling of my semen,
flooded over me. He laughed and smiled, his eyes twinkling with
mischievousness at his prank. I pulled him down to me and smothered
him with kisses and tickles until he stopped squirming and lay still.

I watched the boy sleep for a long time. His rhythmic breathing
hypnotized me. His little body sprawled across my bed, dreaming happy
dreams, for once. How could I say that my pleasure had been greater
than his? Maybe he had taken something from me that I could never get
back? This would be the last time I would ever see him - if that's
what he wanted; or this would be the first of many loving times ahead,
but it would be his choice, as much as he could make a choice. His
world wasn't as complicated as mine. He lived for pleasure and pain.
There was nothing else for him, not yet. Why not provide him with as
much pleasure as he wanted?

The boy stirred and stretched. He gazed at me with his dark eyes and
smacked his lips. He crawled closer and cuddled under my arm. I
curled my body around him and rested my hand lightly on his stomach.
He placed his hand on top of mine and pushed me towards his penis. I
lightly stroked his genitals as he rubbed against my hand. In a
moment he was asleep again. I idly fingered his tiny penis and pulled
at his foreskin. With his hot little body against me I could feel his
slowed breathing and wondered what his dreams were about. I hoped
they were about me. I knew that mine would be about him.



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