WARNING: More graphic sex between a man and a boy. I'm getting bored of saying so, but don't read it if you don't think you'll like it.

xxxxx

I woke at dawn the following morning, and gazed lovingly at my sleeping delight. We were both still naked, having not bothered to get back into our pyjamas following last night's exertions. I ran a hand over his hot chest and pulled him into a hug. Half asleep, he entwined his limbs in mine, close and warm and cosy. I breathed in the tantalising boyish musk of sleep and, secure and comfortable, I dozed off again.

I awoke again some time later to find him kneeling over my chest, masturbating. He had a gloriously intense frown of concentration as he gazed at me, and it gave me untold pleasure to see him exciting himself at the mere sight of me. His face flicked into a brief smile as he acknowledged that I was now awake, before returning to the unbelievably enticing frown. The view of this child pulling so intently on his hard little prick was so enthralling that I made no attempt to intervene – watching was enough.

Every now and then, he would slightly adjust his position, or arch his back, or lean to one side, and I found these slight movements caused the most delightful changes in the skin and flesh of his torso. The skin would stretch here or wrinkle there, or I would see the faint shape of a muscle as it tensed or relaxed. It was beguiling.

As he neared climax, he leant forward, propping himself on the headboard of the bed with his left hand, his right furiously pumping on his dick. His whole body began to buck and writhe as he repeatedly pulled his belly right in then pushed it out, in a movement that had the rhythm and pace of a sexual thrust, though his hips and groin stayed almost stationary. As he passed the moment of orgasm, he let out a funny groaning, snorting sound as he exhaled through his nose.

He sat back on my belly with a smile of smug contentment, and said, "Morning."

"Good morning Bart," I replied. My bladder was uncomfortably full, and this was not helped by having the boy rest on my belly. I told him this, but his only response was to playfully bounce where he was, in order to heighten my need to relieve myself.

"I want to see you jerk off," he said.

I replied, "I have to pee first," and moved to get up, but he insisted. Who was I to refuse this charming seductor? Bart slid off me to allow me access to my cock and, ignoring the insistent pressing of my bladder, I began to masturbate. The boy watched with curiosity as I pleasured myself for him, noting how I periodically altered my technique, sometimes fast, sometimes slow, sometimes one hand, sometimes two, sometimes gently tickling, sometimes using force. The sight of him watching with detached curiosity was certainly alluring, but I felt I wanted to make better use of him. I got him to lie with his head propped up on pillows against the headboard, then knelt over his waist as he had done over mine.

My cock now hovered in front of his face, and it was this angelic visage on which I now concentrated. Again, I found small unconscious movements he made absolutely tantalising. He 

might scratch his cheek, or wrinkle his nose, or bit his bottom lip, all the while looking up at me with large, longing eyes.

Presented with this nonchalant beauty, it did not take me long to climb to orgasm. In the seconds before I ejaculated, I once again became aware of my bladder, and was suddenly seized with terror lest I accidentally urinate onto him. Thankfully, semen was the only fluid to spurt from my dick. A thick rope of the stuff sprayed diagonally across his slightly surprised face, from his chin, across his open mouth, up to the corner of his eye. I was surprised myself by the bestial satisfaction that was to be had in seeing the base product of my sex sully the innocent beauty of the child. This satisfaction was crowned when he stuck out his tongue to taste a globule suspended from his upper lip, and then swallowed all that his eager fingers could transfer to his mouth.

I kissed his forehead, and then was finally permitted off the bed to savour the glorious release of taking a piss. Bart followed suit, and then we both stepped into the small cubicle shower in order to clean ourselves off. Soapy and slippery, we wriggled and writhed together in the confined space, and I revelled in the slick feel of his body as he squirmed and pressed and thrusted against me. As was customary for Bart, he very quickly regained the magnificent two inches of pointed flesh that signalled he was ready for more. With soaped hands I stood behind him, reaching round to massage the small, keen hardness of his undeveloped boyhood sexuality.

The lubrication afforded by the lather allowed me to be far more inventive that the simple jerking I could have achieved without it. Every tug, every twist, every squeeze slipped effortlessly over the silky skin, bringing Bart to orgasm more rapidly that I had yet seen. I pulled him against me with one arm, his butt against my groin, my lips against his neck, and I delighted in the shuddering I could feel through his whole body, as he throbbed his orgasm into my hand.

When we stepped out of the shower, Bart allowed me to dry him. The act of towelling his body dry I found intensely erotic, tinged with a hint of something protective and paternal. This contradiction in feelings only served to heighted my arousal. After teasing the boy by gently grazing the rough towel over his still sensitive dick, I moved round to his bum, and kept pawing and rubbing at his almost edible buttocks long after they were dry. I eventually abandoned pretence and dropped the towel, nuzzling and licking the rounded cheeks, before pulling them apart to allow my tongue to dip into his crack, prodding at his asshole.

This concentration on his bottom caused Bart to ask, "You know when two men have sex, don't they normally do it up the bum?"

I quelled my desire to prove him right there and then, and replied, "That's one of the things they can do, yes."

"So why didn't we do it last night?"

Oh, how I wanted to! "Because," I told him, inserting a finger by way of demonstration, "you have a very tight hole, and it would hurt you. Nothing would induce me to cause you pain, Bart."

"But that doesn't hurt, with your finger up there."

"One finger is considerably narrower than a penis."

"Can we at least try? I want to see what it's like."

My heart leapt. "Of course, as long as you tell me if it hurts too much and I'll stop."

Some ten year old bravado showed through and he replied, "I can take it."

I laughed, and tried not to get over excited. Very likely, he would not cope with more than two fingers and I wouldn't even get my dick anywhere near his ass. It was best to reign in my expectations to avoid disappointment later on. But still, the mere prospect had me drooling.

I went to the bathroom to look for something slippery, and came back with a tub of Vaseline. Bart was on the bed lying on his front, propped up on his elbows. I paused to admire the graceful curves from his bunched shoulders, down the gentle concave of his spine, and over the perfect hillocks of his backside.

"You are quite, quite exquisite, Bart. I am entranced by your physicality."

He blushed and giggled, and said nothing. I climbed onto the bed and pulled him up onto all fours, spreading his cheeks. Between his legs, I could reach his balls with my tongue, and from here I moved over the tender flesh until I reached his ass crack. I ran my tongue over his hole, tickling him and teasing him with gentle exploration, before putting my whole mouth over it, making a seal with my lips. I sucked and licked, causing the boy to moan with pleasure.

I opened the Vaseline and greased my fingers, smearing lube onto, around and into his anus. One finger slipped in much more easily than it had done when unlubricated, but even so I was again taken aback by the sheer pressure exerted on it. Once more I wondered if I would ever get my dick in there.

"Two fingers now," I told him.

As I pushed them in slowly but firmly, I could see the muscle shape itself around them. Bart's breathing had quickened, but he made no complaint. I slowly twisted them, and pushed in further, pulling almost out and re-entering a couple of times.

When I pulled out, Bart looked round with a grin.

"OK so far?" I asked.

He nodded.

"Alright to try three?"

"Go for it."

I kissed each bum cheek, reapplied the lube, and worked out what to do. I discovered I couldn't get three fingers of one hand close enough together, so I used my index and middle fingers on my right hand, with the index from my left. This time the muscle looked stretched almost to breaking point, but Bart made no noise.

I didn't mess about with three fingers for long because I was too impatient to try it with my cock. I knelt behind him, and allowed my rock solid boner to rest on his bum, lightly rubbing along his crack and nudging against him. Using my hand to direct it, I grazed the glans across the hole, savouring the glorious anticipation of what I was about to do. It didn't seem quite real. My penis looked enormous against the small round dimple of his asshole. The feeling of power I had had when I ejaculated across his face returned. My strong, animal lust was about to tear the petals form a pristine white flower, and I was relishing the prospect.

I smeared my dick with lube, and put a little more on to his hole.

"Are you ready Bart," I warned.

"Yes."

Guiding with my hand, I pushed firmly against him. At first there was resistance, but suddenly he opened up and took in the head. The muscle tightened again once over the bulge of my helmet, holding me tight. I let out a cry. The sensation of pressure, hot and strong, was far more intense than I had imagined. It almost hurt, it was that tight.

I pulled out again, as much for my sake as for Bart's. I regained my breath and pushed in the same amount, this time keeping enough composure to listen out for the boy's reaction. He grunted slightly under his breath, nothing more. Holding onto his slim hips, I pushed in about half way, then back, then all the way in. As I brought my hips fully against him, he let out a slight whimper. I was hurting him.

I pulled all the way out, and told him, "I want to be able to see your face while I do this. I can't tell if you're in pain if you're facing away from me."

Even as I said this, I realised it was not quite true. The reality was, I wanted to hurt him, just a little. I wanted him to squirm at my touch. I wanted him to quake beneath the power of me.

I directed the boy to lie on his back, and pushed his legs apart, his knees up by his chest. I knelt over him, my dick rubbing over his, my hands trailing over his chest, resting briefly on his flaccid penis.

I found his entrance by touch, and with our eyes locked, I pushed in to the warm embrace afforded by his asshole. With slow, gentle movements, Bart appeared to experience nothing more than a slight discomfort, even gaining an erection as I pushed myself repeatedly into the constrictive confines of him. In this position, I could admire the small adjustments his torso made in response to the rhythm of my movement, and enjoy the changing expressions that passed over his face, ranging from lust to pain, to resignedness, to admiration. I leant forward to kiss him frequently, his eager lips striving upwards to catch against mine.

As my excitement grew, I increasingly abandoned restraint. He was trying to hide the mounting pain he was experiencing, but a particularly strong thrust from me would show in a twisted expression on his face that lasted a fraction of a second each time. This excited me further, and it became a game, a challenge, to draw this from him.

In the unbelievable tightness surrounding my cock, the rush experienced in the seconds before ejaculating was drawn out to almost unbearable length, as the vice-like grip he had of me actually restricted the physical act of releasing semen. In these tantalising moments, my desire to release led me to thrust with considerable force into and against the frail body of the child. He cried out in pain as I emptied myself into him.

I collapsed next to him, unable to move. He made no move towards me for physical contact, and I realised he was gently easing his legs back down to the bed. He had an abstracted look in his eyes, which gradually dissolved into a slight smile.

I was suddenly overcome with remorse for having harmed the angelic creature.

"I'm sorry Bart, I got carried away. Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'll be alright. Just a little sore is all."

"Are you badly hurt?"

"No, it's alright. I told you I could take it. It just hurt more than I thought it would. But I can take it. I'd have told you if I couldn't take it."

He rolled towards me with a smirk, and kissed my forehead and pinched my cheek, as an adult would to a child. He was restating his superiority over me. I made no objection, and looked up at him with a look which I hoped showed submission.

He stuck his fingers into the jar of lube, and coaxed his limp dick into an erection, smearing both it and his balls with the lube as he did so. They looked good enough to eat, shiny and glistening, standing proud.

He slapped me on the thigh and ordered me to turn over. I obeyed, getting onto all fours, and he immediately began inserting fingers. He was too rough for it to be pleasurable, seeing how many digits he could get in at once, and pulling and twisting them around.

I felt his hands, still slippery with lube, grasp me around the hips, and he pushed his small but well-used erection into my hole. He was deliberately energetic and forceful in this rhythm, in an effort to get revenge. I was surprised to find that he succeeded in hurting me a little, even with his prepubescent genitalia. He dug his nails into my hips and virtually threw himself against me on each stroke, with exaggerated grunts and cries as he thrusted. When he orgasmed, he wrapped both arms around my body and squeezed against me, his legs trembling as they pushed against mine to force himself as deep as he could go.

When he pulled out he gave me a lazy smile and kissed me on the mouth, and then I was allowed to hold him again, hold the boy I loved, close and warm and mine.