Buggering the Burglar Boys - Cover

Buggering the Burglar Boys

Copyright© 2012 by Rob Loveboy

Chapter 3

Pedo Sex Story: Chapter 3 - 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?

Caution: This Pedo Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/mt   Consensual   Reluctant   Gay   Group Sex   Oral Sex   Anal Sex  

I escaped by the skin of my teeth. That was a close call that should have taught me a valuable lesson, and it did until Dianne informed me that she decided to stay over night in Toronto at her sister's place and return Sunday after picking up our daughter at her mother's house. The house would be mine, alone to enjoy Sean and Zack in comfort for the evening. There would be no rush, no use for the loft. Time was on my side to nurture Zack, take him to bed and further his sexual education, mold him into the perfect man pleaser that Sean had once been. I wouldn't make the same mistake with Zack, it would be made clear who the boss was in the bedroom, boys were supposed to be submissive to men, that's how nature meant it to be. Somehow I didn't think that would ever be a problem with Zack.

The boys were busy, Sean was routering then burning names in pre-cut plaques and Zack was weather treating them. Believing that people bought the handicrafts assuming they were created by Sean himself, I insisted on him that my role was only that of technical advisor when necessary. He was on his own to market and manufacture his products. I doubted that he was compensating Zack, his sole employee, but he made me proud to watch him and knowing that I changed the direction in his young life. That's what Dianne always said. So what if I was fucking around with him in the process, the end result is all that mattered, I justified to myself.

Upon entering the shop, the first words out of Sean's mouth were, "Did she see my boner? -- How fucking embarrassing was that!"

"Yes," I teased, with a solemn look, "she thought it was, well, ... cute, --that was all, ... small, but cute she said!"

"Fuck off!" he scoffed, "She probably wants me now! --I'd fuck her, ya know, and like ... you'd never find out about it!" he boasted. "Or maybe she'd want a three way and..."

"Trust me," I laughed, "the only thing she wants you and me to do together is keep our fucking clothes on around each other from now on!"

Sean smirked and giggled, "Like that's going to happen." he then appeared serious, "Are you in shit now? --I mean, see didn't see anything ... really."

"A boned up man and two boned up boys? --Nah, ... that's kewl, happens all the time, right?" I said facetiously, "It's just that we were using her good guest towels. --She'll get over it!" I joked and tousled his hair.

Zack, not being the sharpest chisel in the shop, said all too serious, "Ohhh, --that would piss my mom off, too!" causing Sean and I to go into hysterical laughter.

I saw that Sean was frustrated, he was falling behind. He had a lot to do and a short time to do it. I had stressed the importance of quality versus quantity in his workmanship and to never sacrifice it under pressure. I chipped in to help and we soon had a production line happening. Before we knew it, having labored well past the dinner hour, Sean's outstanding orders were left to dry for the night and we went into the house to order Chinese food.

Earlier, I had told Sean that Dianne was gone for the night and that I wanted him to spend the night. Since he never seemed to have a curfew and was, for all intents and purposes, unaccountable to any adult supervision at home, my invitation was unconditionally accepted with an added bonus. He called Zack's mom and told her that the kid would be sleeping over at his place, a common occurrence that she readily agreed to. I was in seventh heaven, although I was fully aware that his scheme was orchestrated not for my sexual pleasure alone, but a self centered plot to encourage his protege and hand him off to me on a silver platter.

While we waited for our food, the boys played my daughter's video games on the family room big screen TV. Sean bellyached that games were "lame" in comparison to his own, but Zack was enjoying the simplicity of it all. His giggles were heart warming, not able to sit still on the floor and flopping around, excitedly maneuvering the hand held controls to and fro, as if positioning was crucial to the space battle at hand.

Our stomachs full, the food devoured as only boys can manage to put away in record time without coming up for air, the fortune cookies followed. The little strips of paper were read aloud by all. Sean's read that he would "prosper in his business ventures," Zack's claimed that "a man's wealth is not measured in gold, but by how many friends he has," and mine read "you fucking pedophile pervert, send those boys home, forthwith!" Not really, it was something about love, and life, but it should have read exactly that!

The kitchen table looked like we hadn't bothered to use plates, my cock decided the mess could wait, but it, itself couldn't! Upstairs we went, the boys taking them two at a time, then decided to slide down the mahogany railing, giving me a near heart attack at their dare-devilish antics that were replayed twice more! Once in my bedroom, Sean turned on the stereo and tuned it to some station that I often heard emanating from my daughter's room. Hardly would I call it a tune, but both boys, obviously familiar with it, began a synchronized dance routine that I had to admire and joined them to teach me the moves. Inept and cumbersome without the agility of youth, I failed miserably to impress and sat upon the bed and watched instead.

Sean began to strip, prompting Zack to follow his lead. Once again, he had assumed control of events, a control freak that had me wrapped around his little finger. Socks, shirts and jeans were slowly and sexily removed until they danced only in their underwear. The bedroom was littered in clothing that some of which was playfully tossed to find its intended mark, a sock looped atop the dresser mirror, another two draped each bedside lamp-shade.

I undressed slowly, leaving my own clothes in a heap at the foot of the bed and sat with my cock in hand, lusting as their final garments were removed and chucked to dangle from the candlestick-shaped bulbs of the overhead chandelier, much to their elation and glee. Both were flaccid, which excited me all the more. It was like a sudden epiphany to me, so natural and boyish was their beauty, each at his own wondrous stage of puberty that I am certain nature intended throughout history to tantalize and woo men, and even today, centuries later, still holds some kind of suppressed, primal male instinct to appreciate and rightfully avail oneself of those carnal sexual pleasures if only he could recon with his misguided, societal indoctrinated, moral subconsciousness and express what was meant to be!

Sean, of course, kept the erotica in motion while Zack, naive to the sexual overtone that was driving me wild, only giggled trying to mimic the seductive moves of his cock teasing idle. I decided to take a more active role and verbally encouraged them into sexual touching and watched on as their softness was stimulated to life at the hands of the other. Standing belly to belly, cock against cock with fingers jointly entwined, a short, heated session of mutual masturbation ensued.

Apparently welcoming the experience, Zack had lost his giddy demeanor and took on a more serious composure which thrilled me. His relaxed, comfortable state of mind would be essential in my quest to take him on his maiden voyage to orgasm. But first, my boy-harem would have to service their man before anything else, the visual erotica was taking its toll on me, and had it continued much longer I would have dropped a load over the teal-blue carpeting at my feet.

Spread eagle on the queen-size bed, I motioned Sean to my beck and call with just a nod of my head. No instructions necessary, the two lads assumed positions straddling each of my legs, their boy boners pressed against my thighs. As expected, Sean took control over Zack giving him the finer, experienced details on worshipping my genitalia. Surprising me, he played an active roll whereas I thought certain that he would make Jake be my primary source of pleasure.

Down the hall from the master bedroom stood a Grandfather clock. The night after its arrival, I disconnected the hourly chimes that drove me crazy and kept everyone awake. Even still, the tick-tock of the pendulum was quite audible and nerve wracking enough if the bedroom door was left open. For the very first time, I found a use for my wife's family heirloom. I had once read about a gay orgy sex game called, "Russian Roulette Blowjobs." The rules were simple, each participant had ten seconds to vigorously suck one lucky guys cock, the person whom was fortunate, or unfortunate enough, depending on how you looked at it, to be on the receiving end of the orgasm was declared the winner and entitled to receive any sexual act of their choosing, performed by any one individual, or all other players if desired. Usually, it was a repeat performance of the game.

I decided to implement the game for several reasons, 1) because I could; 2) make it a game kind of thing for Zack's sake; 3) prevent Sean from his habit of eventually using his hand to speed up, and prematurely end his involvement, hence, 4) making the experience a lasting one for me!

The game was explained and the rules put forth. Every 5th rotation of the pendulum was to be their improvised stop watch, which equated to ten seconds of warm, slobbery wet mouth action only, no hands allowed. I would hold my cock upright at the base and place a pillow over my face so as not to know which boy was competing. Knowing that neither boys participation would be motivated by returned sexual favors alone, I threw in what I knew for a fact did motivate Sean, a monetary prize for the winner.

I can not begin to describe the gratification of continuous tag-team oral stimulation. There was no interrupted need to capture breaths or cases of dry mouth, ample air and saliva was recouped during his allotted ten-second reprieve. Only a well lubricated, constant piston motion went on and on with slobbery sound effects, all of which I had to struggle to prolong the inevitable result. Even though I was blinded, characteristics separated and identified each player. Sean took more length and frequently used his tongue, whereas Jake was more cautious of choking himself and less cautious of his grazing teeth, however, I wasn't complaining in the least!

All good things must cum to an end and I chose Jake to be the official winner. My hand shot down to secure his head and my hips arched, driving my cock deeper into his unsuspecting mouth to depths I could only guess to be recessed somewhere in the upper throat judging by the narrowed expansion that I could feel surround my crown. Jake responded in a natural reaction to having the air passages obstructed, he panicked Surprisingly, he didn't bite me, although his eyes bulged and arms and legs flailed. An eerie, throaty gurgle sounded as the thick spray coagulated with no where to go. What followed was a watery whiteness of either snot or cum, or likely a combination of both that streamed from his nostrils and over his upper lip. I admit, it was an unfair advantage of power that I abused in the heat of the moment, but he was in no danger for the thirty-some-odd seconds it took to experience the hottest fucking orgasm of my life!

After puking up cum laden phlegm over my groin, Jake regained his composure. Sean laughed and then winched pointing at the small mess, "Yuck! ... Fucking gross, dude!" he said, embarrassing Jake, whose eyes darted around the bed area, frantically in search of something to wipe up his innocent blunder.

I ruffled his hair and laughed, "It's okay, little buddy, ... not a problem." and got up to wash away the evidence in the bathroom.

It was close to eleven o'clock by then and we had all night left to party, so I felt a fine bottle of wine would be nice to savor in the hot tub. Enthusiastic to the suggestion and leading the way, three pairs of bare feet pitter-pattered down the hardwood stairs. The boys horsed around, slapping each other's bare asses and screamed in stinging pain whenever one would get the jostling advantage over the other, locked in an arm to shoulder dance like scuffle.

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