Buggering the Burglar Boys
Caution: This Pedo Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/mt, Consensual, Reluctant, Gay, Group Sex, Oral Sex, Anal Sex,
Desc: Pedo Sex Story: Chapter 1 - A happily married man nabs a teenage boy and an accomplis burglarizing his garage one night. A repressed boy-lover, in the heat of the moment he realizes the potential advantage of the situation to fulfill a lifetime fantasy and finally make it a reality. Later, falling for the kid who has eventually endeared the family, the man believes he can only reap the best of both worlds and satisfy his carnal desire as well as keep an unsuspecting wife. After all, what could go wrong?
About fifteen years ago; I was thirty at the time and living in a suburb of Toronto. It was around midnight, my wife and daughter were sleeping and I was in my den downstairs working on a sales presentation I had to deliver the following morning. The room was dark except for my desk lamp and thought I noticed movement in the darkness outside the window that looked over my backyard. One of those situations where you're not sure and brush it off as an over tired, just seeing things kind of imagination after peering out and finding nothing.
Minutes later the faint sound of breaking glass made me realize that I hadn't imagined things. Carpentry was a hobby and my garage served as my workshop which had been broken into a few months earlier and wood working hand tools stolen. There was no doubt in my mind that another burglary was in progress, probably the same thief. There was no time to call the cops and await their arrival, I wanted that fucker caught red handed and detained to be handed over to them on a silver platter!
I was not overly muscular but the life long passion of power swimming, and my three times a week regime at the local Aquatic Center kept me fit and trim other than a slight beer belly that I found impossible to shed due to my love of the suds. Armed with a baseball bat and a six-cell flashlight, I quietly made my way to the garage door which was ajar and the same small window pane shattered.
At the front of the garage where my tools were hung, the soft glow of what appeared and sounded like a Bic lighter being flicked pin pointed the two thieves exact position. Barefoot, I was afraid of stepping on nails or shards of wood amongst the saw dust as I inched forward, sleek as a cat. Just far enough from the only exit in order to block a hasty departure, I illuminated the powerful light.
"Hold it right there, assholes!" I screamed.
Frozen in place like two deer in the headlights of a car, stood two young boys of about fourteen or fifteen. I recognized both from the neighborhood but didn't know their names or where they lived. Once they gained their senses they attempted to run. Each stopped dead in their tracks when I took a threatening stance and they noticed the menacing bat.
I knew there was no chance that I could secure both kids and make my way to the telephone ahead, one culprit would be sufficient. I grabbed the shoulder length hair of the eldest, allowing the other to escape when he realized the opportunity.
His face contorted in pain as I dragged him to the front of the garage, turned on the florescent lights and picked up the phone to call the police.
"Please, Sir, dddon't call the cops." he plead and sobbed, tears streamed from the corners of his hazel eyes. "Please, --they'll send me to juvenile this time cuz I'm fourteen now!"
I snickered, "Like ... tell me, why the fuck should I give a shit?" he yelped as I forced his head down and back up, "You broke into my garage and were going to steal my stuff ... like ya did a few months ago, right?"
"Ouch, ooowie ... please? Just beat me up!" he continued to plea, "But don't call the cops ... okay?"
"So, you've been in trouble before..." that much was obvious, he was now a teenager and would face stiffer punishment in juvenile detention. "and you still haven't learned anything from it! --Sorry, but you're going to jail, kiddo!" I laughed and reached for the telephone's touch pad.
"Please, please, please? I ... I ... I'll do anything you want, ya know? Like yard work, maybe or..." he rambled on other odd jobs as his penance, but I wasn't really listening.
I had a secret that was suppressed all my adult life. I liked pubescent boys. The forbidden fruit that I lusted after at the pool, clad in next to nothing, the material of wet bathing suits clinging like saran wrap and exposing their goods. The occasional, immodest naked boy in the showers or change room, just at that magical advancing stage of development that fueled my fantasies of taking one to bed and doing everything imaginable to him. They were far and few between, this generation of kids were all so hung up on being seen naked for some reason. Mostly all I saw was a bare ass, that is of course if they didn't use the 'towel wrapped waist technique' to change into or out of bathing suits!
I drempt of sex vacations, those places where boys of any age can be bought and used for a man's carnal pleasure at a price. Countries where the laws were either lax or nonexistent and a means of survival for many kids. I wasn't prejudice, but only Caucasian or Latino boys appealed to me and I had no idea where to even begin finding promoters of such lurid vacation spots. Those Mayan lads that I secretly drooled over while vacationing with my wife in Mexico held possibilities, but again, finding someone to broker the deal was as foreign to me as the country.
Suddenly, that very night as I held the very vulnerable cute boy by his auburn hair, the opportunity was much too irresistible. The stirring in my track suit pants at the mere thought of the situation superseded any other thoughts about calling the cops ... but the fearful prospect that cops could eventually come to pick me up also weighed on my mind.
"What's your name?" I commanded, tugging his hair.
"Sean, ... ouch!" he grimaced.
"Sean Ouch, ... now that's a funny name. How do ya spell it?" I teased.
Sean didn't see the humor and replied, "Sean Miller."
"Well, Sean Miller, you haven't convinced me not to turn you in yet. Your promise of coming back and doing chores for me just doesn't cut it, I'm afraid."
"I'll do anything, you name it, I swear!"
By that time my cock was as hard as any 2X4 in my shop, I could feel the gel oozing from it and see the darker pigment absorbing into my gray flannel pants. I was literally trembling in desire for him debating as to exactly what it was I was going to do and how I was going to proceed. I had waited a lifetime for that moment, jerking off or fucking my wife while thinking of it. She was never enthusiastic about giving me blowjobs and they all but came to a halt the day we were married! His mouth was becoming more inviting by the second!
"Anything, I say?" I said more as a statement than a question, "I guess that a tough, street savvy, career criminal like yourself knows what a blowjob is. You'll be giving lots of them where you're going, trust me!" I laughed at him for emphasis. "Perhaps you've already sucked cock in a similar prison for delinquents."
He nodded, eyes bulged staring up at me and his jaw had dropped exposing the pink, wet tongue flush against the inner side of his bottom ivory white teeth.
"Is that a yes that you know what a blowjob is?" I persisted, he nodded. "Or a yes that you've blown guys?"
"Nooo!" he exclaimed emphatically, searching for more words that never escaped his trembling lips.
"Maybe we can make a deal after all, ya know? Think of it this way, ... you will be sucking off a whole lot of guys and certainly be taking it up the ass in jail this time around; that comes with the territory, by the way." I eased the pressure to his scalp maintaining a grasp of hair for assurance and replaced the receiver on the cradle, "or you can cut your losses and get on your knees and only have to suck one cock! --That is until you fuck up again and someone not as kind as me sends you away. Look on the bright side, ... at least you'll have the experience then!" I paused a short while for effect, "Your choice, Sean Miller."
The moment of truth arrived when I reached for the phone again and he slowly got down on his knees. He surveyed the scene before his eyes, closed them and sighed. I pulled the draw strings and once the waist band was free of my wood, gravity sent them to my knees. With the back of his head secured with one hand and my cock held in the other, I basted his puckered lips to a glistening sheen before applying some pressure between them only to meet the disappointing barrier of his clamped teeth, but something told me that he wouldn't resist for very long and accept his fate.
I felt his warm breath exhale before his mouth allowed full access to the even warmer confines within. Four out of six inches wasn't bad to begin with to let him adjust to the thick girth and length that my wife joked, looked like a perfect replica of an Italian sausage complete with the slight curve!
After some minor coaching, I was gliding over his tightly wrapped, saliva soaked lips, the odd scrape of teeth forgiven in lieu of the earnest effort he was making. He learned to use his hand and tongue when pausing for air in order to assure continued pleasure, not much caring to lick inside of my slit that was steadily seeping precum, but a prerequisite, nonetheless. He learned to manipulate and knead my balls with his free hand, then how to gently take a testicle for a spin around in his mouth, rolling it over and under his tongue.
Yes, Sean was a quick learner. A lesson in sucking cock that even I had no prior experience or qualifications to be teaching him. It was merely the way I perceived a blowjob should be performed, nothing more, nothing less and he was a good student. If I didn't know better at the time, I'd swear that he was enjoying it as much as I was. And I certainly was!
In the heat of the moment, I gagged him. Too much, too fast. He sputtered and heaved, but didn't throw up. Quickly gaining his composure, I urged him to continue and minutes later he was gagging again as I unloaded an unprecedented orgasm. I've read a lot stories about it hitting the back of their throats as they buried their cocks to the max and ejactulated, perhaps that wasn't a myth, who was I to judge, all I knew is that he comfortably bobbed on four to five inches and it was the volume of semen that built up and clogged his air ways as I held his head in place to recieve it. He did spit up a combination of green and white bile and cum onto the floor the second I released him.
He looked up at me and I saw sheer hatred in his eyes, "Can I go now?" he said with scorn, rolling his eyes in disgust and slime being wiped away from his mouth by a forearm.
No, I decided.
"Stand up and take off your clothes." I ordered, "I wanna see you naked first, --then you can leave!" In for a penny, in for a dime, I had nothing to lose.
Sean stood up, but he was developing a cocky attitude, "That wasn't part of the deal, man! Ya made me blow ya and ... I did, so now I'm outta here ... ya fucking faggot!"
He was very correct. I should have been satisfied, and I was; don't get me wrong! But I yearned far too long for more than to let him just slip away. I wanted to suck his cock! The old adage, 'opportunity only knocks once, ' prevailed in my thoughtless thought process.
Mind games were warranted again, I picked up the phone.
"Look, mister! You call the cops and I tell them what you did to me, and..."
"You think they will believe you?" I laughed, "A kid with a record, just trying to get out of trouble and making up lies?"
He was no dumb kid, he pulled off his t-shirt just as I faked punching in the last digit in the 911 sequence. I had dialed 411.
Sean hesitated undoing his buttoned jeans. I fell to my knees and relieved him of the burden. Pants and underwear down in one swipe, I stared at his beauty. Three inches of chubby, uncut boy cock hung below a spattering of short brown pubic hair. He was barely thirteen, I determined. My cock responded in kind to my mental state; perversion!
Not satisfied that he was naked to his knees, I pulled off his shoes and socks and struggled to free him of his tight jeans. The Adonis boy of my dreams stood in front of me totally naked! I lost every ounce of dignity, licking his arm pits, nipples and belly button. My downward quest had my nose buried in his sparse foliage, then biting and sucking the skin above his cock and leaving a tell tale, purplish red mark in my wake before the main event.
Fondling his member, I concentrated on his pink, satin sac first. Both orbs easily occupied my mouth with room to spare, my tongue darted over that tender spot between his scrotum and his cherry bud, that was next on my list of self degradation, I wanted to eat his asshole! Turning him around and spreading his cheeks I found he wasn't clean. Particles of whatever were evident; underwear lint, toilet paper, shit or all of the above didn't inhibit my shallow excavation of his rectum. Anyone whose eaten pussy knows where I'm coming from! Right? I licked his hole, I know that I heard him purr and I could feel his anal muscles throb in response to the stimuli. Another, larger hickey was planted on his inner left cheek. Where that sudden urge derived was beyond me! Maybe some sort of subconscious branding to warn others that he belongs to me! I chucked in self amusement. Then sadly, I realised the implications! However nothing mattered other than the matters at hand, it was like an addiction. I couldn't stop doing it, no desire to stop, only wanting more! I knew full well it was wrong of me and that I took full advantage of the boy, blackmailed and coerced him against his will. I justified everything in a heart beat, he attempted to steal from me. The jury was still out on whether or not he executed the last theft, but he didn't deny it when I confronted him earlier.
Sean's cock began to expand in my mouth, the main course saved for last. Delicious is all I can say. Remarkably, he grew to at least five inches and thick as my thumb. I supposed that I forgot what my own developing body looked like back then. I wasn't foolish enough to think that he gained an erection because he was horny. It was merely a natural male response to stimuli of the genitals, he was bored and he showed it, hands on hips and sighing, the ever rolling of the eyes. He was denying himself the pleasure, and I wouldn't be able to make him cum under those circumstances for all the tea in China!
My jaw ached in relentlessness, my erection full bore. I honestly contemplated fucking him, the last objective on my list of perverted things to do to a boy, but without lubricant, I surmised that the task would be rather difficult and very painful for Sean. Incriminating proof of rape, his cherry taken would be sore and swollen, my DNA planted inside him, the final evidence to bring me back to reality.
He looked relieved when I pulled up my pants and told him to dress. His carnage was over. He paid the price for his indiscretion of the law by my virtual indiscretion of his body. I felt truly sorry for him. He was a very nice looking boy, somewhat intelligent, I gathered. I wanted to know more about him. I offered him a beer from my fridge which he refused, obviously anxious to get the fuck out of Dodge, lest I molested him again.
I couldn't resist asking, "Why did you want to steal people's things, Sean?"
"Oh! --Because I want to be a carpenter too and had no tools!" he said facetiously, "Why the fuck do ya think, --for money! Are you an idiot?"
I let the insult go when I would never have tolerated it from a kid before, but I didn't want to lose him and wanted him back for selfish reasons.
"If it's money you need, well ... I can help you out. You scratch my back, I'll scratch yours!" I bluntly advised.
Sean was even more blunt and pompous, "Ya mean you'll pay me to have sex with you, right?"
"You're a very, very smart boy, Sean! Nothing slips by you, does it?" I responded with callousness, not wanting him to get the upper hand.
"Let me think about it, okay? he cowered, my approach set the tone. "How much?"
"Sixty!" he counter offered.
"Fifty, and if you cum I'll throw in another ten."
The deal was struck. We'd always rendezvous at MacDonald's, then I would take him to cheap motels at least twice a week, sometimes three. I couldn't get enough of him. I was like a junkie, he became my drug of choice. I had his phone number and an agreed cover story that he was doing odd jobs for me in my shop, that appeased his mom not only to justify where the kid got money from, but also calling him at home when I wanted him.
I think it was the second tryst at a motel when I convinced him into anal sex, for a nominal fee, of course. The routine never varied after that, first he would give me a blowjob which he excelled at performing, then he was treated to a fifteen or twenty minute rim job that he loved receiving, followed by a very long cock sucking session, sometimes forty-five minutes or an hour to coax his young balls into surrendering their nectar. But the time was well spent and allowed me to recharge and fuck him long and hard. Sean never did get used to be fucked, but he soon stopped complaining and accepted it.
I had covered my tracks well. Evenings spent with Sean were my regular workout nights. My wife was satisfied during the off days. The only problem was the depletion of our bank account. I told her that I was buying tools, getting my car repaired, "damn lemon of a money pit" suddenly, and anything else I could think of under pressure.
Eventually forced to abandon the comforts of a motel room, the loft of the garage was cleaned out and added an old mattress, it substituted as our love nest. Sean reluctantly accepted a pay cut of half of what he was accustomed to. I had to forfeit bum fucking him unless I paid an additional twenty for the privilege What he did with his money was none of my business, but I was certain that he wasn't taking drugs. He did buy electronic gizmos, I saw those in his possession as well as the latest teen clothing accessories that I enjoyed removing from his body.
After a few months, Sean had become a fixture around my shop, we discovered he had knack for carpentry. I was more than happy to teach him. He learned the use of lathes, band saws, plains and various hand tools. He mass produced bird houses that he sold door to door, it seemed nobody could refuse his entrepreneur, handcrafted work. His biggest seller of various designs was what he called "Bird Nestominiums, a multiple family housing facility."
His sales spiel said it all, "So many homeless birds looking for housing. Because of the shortage, they're forced to live in your eaves and attics! Did you know that the more birds living in your yard, the less bugs you'll have?" He named his business "Miller's Avian Real-estate Sales," acronym, MARS, and made flyers illustrating his available designs that I photocopied for him at work. I was so proud of him. I was also falling in love with him!
His "fees" for sex were reduced substantially and bum fucking was thrown in gratis, compensating me for my materials and equipment used in his business venture that I brought to his attention after one of our 'unbored room meetings.'
Dianne, my wife, grew accustomed and fond of Sean, his presence around the house became regular. He ate meals with us often and he was always the perfect, polite young man around her. "The son you always wanted!" She would say. If only she knew.
My marital bed was a welcomed change of venue on occasion. My wife worked Saturdays and my young daughter spent most of the weekends at her grandparents home. One day Sean and I were showering together in the en suite. Dianne came home early. The bedroom was strewn with discarded clothes, the ever meticulously made bed was wrinkled. An uncapped bottle of lubricant sat on the bed table. Five minutes earlier, she would have witnessed what caused her mother's hand made quilt to be disheveled.
She entered the bathroom just as Sean and I were exiting the shower, embarrassed, she made apologies and made a hasty retreat. I was fucking paranoid! I didn't have to tell Sean to dress quick and get the fuck out of the house. Second thoughts had me instruct him otherwise, stay for dinner as usual and act like normal. His abrupt departure would only add suspicion. A very wise decision, I thought.
Relieved that Dianne wasn't banging pots and pans, slamming dishes on the table as she usually did when angry, she only smiled at us and asked how Sean's micro business was. Random conversation followed and we had a nice pasta dinner. Afterward, Sean bade farewell, kissed Dianne and shook my hand with a manly hug.
Shortly after his departure she began to question things! "Why were you two showering together, don't you think that's a little odd?"
"Ohhh, --Dianne, ... the fucking heat today! ... I mean the garage was like an oven, as usual, and we were covered in saw dust. I told Sean that I needed a shower before you came home, he said he needed one too!" I tried to reason.
"But don't you think it a little odd ... ya know, to shower with him?"
"Dianne! ... like ... we're both boys!" I shrugged, chuckled and peered at her quizzically, an academy award performance. "I shower with boys all the time at the pool! --I mean, he just followed me ... guess maybe I could have told him to use the hall bath room and mess it up, --but as I said, we're both boys, no big deal!, really!"
She smiled, accepting my plausible explanation without question, and joked, "He must have been in an awful hurry, cuz he left a trail of his clothes up the stairs!"
"Boy stuff, honey, --that's all" I forced a laugh, slapped my knee. I recalled his strip tease that he knew I loved. His provocative, sexy dance as he hummed the famous stripper tune, slowly undressing as he climbed the stairs. "We're lucky," I chuckled, "we have a daughter; ... girls tend to pick up after themselves, --hooray for us!" She hadn't noticed the bottle of lube, thank God, and she didn't comment on her crumpled quilt. I put both out of my mind and changed the subject.
My payments for sexual services rendered ceased. It was taken out in trade instead when I made him realize the expense of materials. He had branched out and was creating beautiful oak plaques, the sir names of families creatively routered amidst leaves burnt into the wood and shellacked to a shiny resin finish, to be mounted by his clientele at their front doors. At only thirteen, Sean displayed a natural carpentry skill, not to mention a superb business aptitude that I admire to this very day! He was always thinking ahead of fresh, new sell-ables, knowing that his limited community market place would eventually dry up in the need for what he had to offer.
Sean's body literally and rapidly developed before my eyes over a six month period. I adored each new sprouting pubic hair, every millimeter increase of genital maturity. His semen became thicker and whiter and ejaculated gobs of it as far as his neck, or more deliciously, to the back of my throat! He reached orgasm sooner and sooner and I learned to read every twitch and pulse of his cock, the slight retraction of his testicles and his breathing to know exactly when he was ready. I enjoyed making him squirm, prolonging the inevitable and torturing him as long as I could, until he would shutter and shake like he was having an epileptic seizure!
Although he would never admit it, Sean was enjoying the sex the further he blossomed through puberty. I believed that at some point, he reached the magical stage of sexual awakening and awareness and the pleasure derived from letting himself experience the wonders of it. I also think that he finally understood the pleasures he had been providing me the many months of our relationship.
He had always refused my attempts to kiss him passionately, "that was too gay," he insisted. Stressing all to often after the sex that he wasn't gay, and naming girls at school that he wanted to fuck, in order to satisfy his straight persona in his own mind. I promoted bisexuality as simply an alternative sexual diversion, "the best of both worlds!" After all, I was married, and what better role model for him?
A new sexual act was added to our itinerary, Sean was fucking me thereafter. Initially, I couldn't refuse his curiosity to explore new things, thinking it was a passing fancy, but it wasn't.The role reversal was difficult for me to accept. In all my wildest dreams of boys, never had I entertained the thought of a young boy fucking me. Sucking their cocks or eating ass was not considered demeaning to me, but anal intercourse I believed to be the man's role in order to maintain his dignity and have the balance of power in his favor. Not that I didn't like the new experience, I loved it! But for whatever inane, physiological reason, it shamed me!
However, in order to keep Sean's interest, I ended up submissive to him and that soon led to his assuming the dominant role in bed. He became selfish to his own needs, knowing full well the power he held over my perversion for him. Seldom did I savour the taste of his sweetness any longer, instead he humped me like a dog in heat, wasting it in the depth of my innards and then collapsing, sprawled over my back.