Date: Sun, 8 Apr 2007 00:19:08 -0700 (PDT) From: sammy garvin Subject: Little Jake Likes Butt. Jake D'Amico was obsessed with two things: Yuh-Gi-Oh! and his big brother's great big shovel butt. Whenever Mitch D'Amico, 17, came home from a wrestling meet or baseball practice his baby brother Jakie would hover around him, trying without much luck not to stare at the twin cantaloupes straining at the fabric of his beat-to-hell Warwick H.S. sweatpants. The hyper six year old munchkin's eyes would widen at the mere hint of his brother's jock strap or tightie-whities and if Mitch would squat to pick up a dropped ketchup bottle cap or to swipe a dollop of jelly from up off the floor, Little Jake would imagine his big brother's butthole barely kissing the threadbare cotton of sweatpant or underwear, and he'd have to stop a sec to catch his breath. He had never had an opportunity to see that butt up close and barenaked but he felt as if he knew it like the back of his hand. He had memorized those globes when tightly encased in Mitch's orange wrestling singlet at home meets, his bro's thick, squat hairy legs slightly bowed to draw Jake's eyes, and everyone else's eyes, up to those lush, obscene mounds that seemed to trap whatever material that crept it's way up into his deep crack. What especially unnerved Warwick Panther wrestling fans was that attached to that unhave-able ass was a compact, thickly muscled torso, lightly coated with black short n' curlies and a big dago head that frequently cracked a dimpled, gap-toothed cockeyed grin below deepset, flashing brown eyes. Bushy black eyebrows hooded those eyes giving Mitch a slightly thuggish glower which served to intimidate opponents in his 185 lb. weight-class. His hair was jet black, high, tight but thick. At 5'6 this guy was a fireplug, a pitbull, who wasn't too bright, never said much, and who pretty much kept to himself and his girlfriend, silly bitch Jill McDonough. Little Jake hated her as did everybody else, except for Pops D'Amico who drooled like a rottweiler whenever the little snatch twitched her pert little can at him. However nasty she could be, she was a sweet piece of ass and she put out for Mitch whenever he needed pussy, which was all the time. Jake definitely had a crush on his big brother's bulging ass. He would try to draw it in a notebook he kept hidden away in his junior-sized desk but his doodles always came out looking like two big circles hugging each other. He just wanted to touch his big brother's butt or sniff it and he came sooo close to asking Mitch if he could...twice he came sooo close...but he chickened out at the last minute. When Mitch wasn't around Jake would rummage through his brother's dirty laundry hoping to find a skidmark in his underwear or something...some kind of evidence of Mitch's colossal ass but oddly, his brother's briefs never betrayed poor ass-wiping skills. They were always (relatively) spotless with a short n' curly left behind to tease frazzled Little Jake. Things were getting drastic. He would settle for sub-Mitch butt, any butt at all in fact. Jakie D'Amico would ask his little friend, Henry, to join him in the backyard woodshed so as to drop his shorts and unders and bend over for him but Henry just laughed and smacked him and ran off to clobber dogs with sticks. Jake didn't know the word for it yet but he was horned-up out of his mind and he had to do something about it even if it was "bad". Finally, one morning... He heard running water in the upstairs bathroom which meant Pops was scraping away at his heavily shadowed beard with a razor. He bolted up the steps and quietly tiptoed up to the bathroom door and he peeked around it. There was Pops' huge, hairy dad-ass, pooching out at Little Jakie in time-worn Fruit Of The Loom briefs. Pops D'Amico was oblivious as he listened to the Mets game on his little transistor. Jake's heart was beating like a rabbit's. Pops' butt was big and sturdy, but definitely built for comfort. His thick, impossibly hairy legs were crossed, trapping the underwear between his buttcheeks. Jake just had to touch it. He reached out towards his dad's bulbous ass-hams but only just a little. Pops spied the boy's wide-eyed stare in the mirror out of the corner of his eye. `What's this kid gonna do?' he thought to himself. He was just about to spin around and clap the snot out of the little shit but his twitching dick got the better of him. That little hand lightly tickling his big burly ass. Might feel pretty good, actually. Deb's not around. Let's just see what happens here. Pops shifted...gently...so as not to scare the kid off. His tree-trunk legs were now spread, his nuts at eyelevel to his youngest son's gaze. Will he go for the nutsack? C'mon Jakie my boy, feel up them lowhangers What if the kindergartner did start feeling him up? How far would he let the game progress? All at once, Leon D'Amico felt tiny little fingers brush lightly against the fabric that bridged the hairy crack of his ass. Not exactly touching anything, not yet. His thickening dick leaked in the pouch of his briefs and his razor hand began to shake just the tiniest little bit. I have to get to work, what am I gonna do? Aw fuck, I've never been late getting to a site. Then he felt two fingers creep under the waistband of his FTLs. He barely jumped. He had to fake like he couldn't feel a thing. He kept right on with the task of shaving, careful not move below the waist. He couldn't let this opportunity pass. Little Jakie was shaking to beat the band but he managed to pull his daddy's unders down to the smiling crease that separated hairy ass from hairy thigh. There it was! A hairy, grown-up butt! And Pops didn't even seem to know what Little Jake was up to back there! What do I do now?, Jake thought to himself. He cautiously stepped closer to the furry moon in his face. He wanted to kiss his dad's big, meaty butt. Down kid, lower. Cup them nuts with those soft, tiny little mits! Damnit!, his dad swore to himself as he anticipated his boy's pudgy little fingers exploring his throbbing nether-regions. After a hot, breathless moment he felt his youngest boy's wet lips smooch just outside the crack of his own ass. Leon D'Amico couldn't help but breathe loud and hard. This was just so fucking dirty. His wife would murder him if she ever walked in on this. A cat couldn't scratch his dick it was so fucking hard. Seemingly against his will, he bent over the sink and spread his legs. He wanted the worst to happen, and yet he didn't. He wanted to feel that small, wet tongue trail on down to his nutsack. He had to fight the uncontrollable urge to scoop the kid up and throw him down on his full-sized double bed. To do what? He felt a teeny tiny waft of coolness on his hairy asshole. That cute little freak was sniffing his ass! He had to put an end to this now! But too late, those gentle, shaking little hands were spreading his asscheeks wide and he could sense something moist and ticklish just a butterfly kiss away from his rank hole. Then it came, just as he sensed it would. That wet little tongue was tickling the shit out of his bunghole. His tight brown-eye cinched uncontrollably much to Jake's delight. Was Pops liking what he was doing to him? The sweaty little hole tasted bitter, tangy and the hairs tickled his nose. He stabbed at it playfully with his stiff little tongue. He didn't think what he was doing was wrong, it was just fun. Pops decided not to say a word. He needed that little kid to end this by sucking the cum out of his aching fuckstick. He would tell no one. He had to end this and get to work. All of a sudden, he turned around to show Jacob John his fat, blood-engorged dick in the hopes that the toddler would want to lick it or jack it off for him with his chubby little fists... something. His dick bounced and jerked at the little boy. Jake looked absolutely terrorized. He started to blink tears out of his squinched up eyes and off he ran. Fuckfuckfuckityfuck! Pops scowled as he submitted to fisting his drooling cock. Five swift pumps and great gobs of cum sprayed the door and the rug on the floor. What a waste! This stuff should be flooding that hot, nursing little mouth! Just the thought of that made him convulse and groan as he did so. He took a moment to pull himself together. This must never, ever happen again. But he would jag off in the port-a-john three more times throughout the day just thinking of that wet tongue worming it's way into his sweaty butthole. For mornings after The Asslick, he would hump his mattress helplessly, imaging a tiny, wet suckhole relieving his bruiser of a shlong of its creamy load. He could barely bring himself to look at his own kid, his head was swimming with awful, lascivious thoughts. He had to get that button mouth on his fat cock somehow. After all, the kid started it. Little Jake was on fire for ass. Whenever he remembered his daddy's enormous, pale hairy ass his knees buckled. He could still smell the tang of hot sweaty daddy-hole. In the middle of the night, whenever he humped his pillow with his jimmies down around his thighs, he imagined rubbing his ding-dong up and down in his daddy's furry buttcrack. But it was big brother Mitch who really made his little wang hard. It was Spring now and baseball season was underway. On unusually hot evenings at Warwick Memorial Field, Mitch squatted behind homeplate in snug baseball leggings as catcher for the always unbeatable Panthers. Jake concentrated so hard on that wide-spread ass that seemed to just about touch the dirt, his glutes dipped so low between his thighs. He imagined himself lying face-up under his big brothers squat, smelling the faint, musky stink of Mitch's shovel-butt. He licked his lower lip at the thought of other big boys' glistening naked butts showering after the game. He wanted to sniff them all, just like Apollo, the D'Amico family's pet German Shepherd, liked to do. His own ass didn't satisfy his curiosity. At bathtime, he'd stick his middle finger up there as far as it would go but his hole and the inevitable gushiness inside of it was all too familiar. Plus, it was hairless. He liked fuzzy, grown-up butts. He had an idea. He would do to Mitch what he did to Pops, only he hoped Mitch wouldn't scare him with his huge angry, twitchy peter. When Pops' weiner practically poked his eye out that day, he thought he was in for a major spanking. The stern look on his face, the way he didn't smile at him after he tickled his dad's sensitive rump with his own fluttery little tongue...it all added up to `trouble' and he had run away like a baby. His Pops still seemed mad at him so he stayed away from him. He would try to keep his tongue out of his brother's butt...he would only look at it, maybe touch it. He would do it Saturday morning when his brother slept in until the Mets game started, usually around noon or so. Pops D'Amico couldn't stay off of his wife. He banged her twice a day at least. He would close his eyes and imagine that her squishy, wet cuntmeat was his little boy's mouth. The swollen folds of her puss were tongues as far as he was concerned. He even asked her if she would rim him one Sunday morning in bed before church and she made a face. The excitement of his son risking life and limb to bury his cute little round face in his dad's ass would send him straight to a shattering orgasm every time. Early one weekday morning when he was having at her, he could sense Jacob John standing just outside their bedroom door, peering in at the two of them violently fucking. Leon reached behind himself, threw the sheets off and feverishly yanked his underwear down past his thighs so the boy could get a good look at his grinding, flexing ass and his heaving nutsack. He hoped the sight of all that ass on top of Jake's beloved mommy would inspire more adventures in the bathroom. But the boy never showed his face even though Pops made certain the door was cracked just enough to invite the little guy on in. It was driving him mad. Now that the seed was planted, he needed that evil little blowjob. Saturday morning rolled around and Deb had gone shopping in the city. Leon's cock was throbbing at full attention. He marveled that at 52, he was as randy as a 15 year old farmboy. He needed his five-year-old's full attention and he was going to get it, goddamnit. He got out of bed, slipped into some fresh briefs, pulled on his faded, blue and orange Mets t-shirt and made his way down the hall to his baby boy's bedroom. He decided he was gonna teach that kid what to do. By example. He marched into the darkened room, threw off the covers and yanked his boy up by his arm, dragging him into his own bedroom. "It's okay, you're not in trouble. Calm down", he reassured his youngest. He shut the bedroom door with his leg, his fat prick bouncing around in his Jockeys like a ferret in a gunny-sack. "Shhh!" The little boy sniffled and cringed in his Spongebob underpants as Pops tossed him on the bed like he weighed nothing at all. "We're gonna have a little fun now, okay? You like daddy's butt, right?" Little Jake nodded `yes', his chin trembling. "Okay well now I'm going to sit on your face...not hard...with my undies on...t-shirt on...it's gonna be real fun. Just like the other day." Jakie lay back, disbelieving what was happening. Pops straddled his son and gently eased his massive butt down onto the boy's head, mashing the kid's adorable monkey face into the fabric of his taught tightie-whities, easing down just enough so that the boy could still breathe a little fresh air. He wiggled his big, muscley butt around comically so that all of this seemed like play. "lick wherever you can, Jakie...don't be afraid to move my unders so you can get at stuff." Jake did as he was told, giving little licks here and there. His dad groaned deeply. It was all he could do not to slide out of his briefs and bury his aching cock in the boys mouth. Those little licks were driving him crazy as the tot's wormy little tongue grazed his taint, the crease by his nutsack, and the super-sensitive flesh just outside his asshole. Finally, when he could take it no more, he rolled off the boy and yanked off his FTLs. "Don't be afraid of my weiner, son. It ain't gonna hurt you." After he shucked his underwear off of his meaty thighs and calves, he rose up, faced south and straddled his son's head, his plump nutsack grazing the boy's impudent, upthrust chin. Pops D'Amico gripped his own buttcheeks, spreading them wide between huge splayed fingers, at which point the middle-aged man eased his ass back down on the little boy's face. Little Jacob John opened his mouth and thrust his tongue at the ginormous butt that threatened to smother him. He lapped at that winking hole as if it were a cherry Jolly Rancher. Leon was loving this. It felt cute and small, like that time five years ago in the shed, when he unzipped and dropped his shorts when nobody was home and proceeded to squat over the family's newly purchased puppy's searching, lapping snout. Goddamn, that tiny little sandpaper tongue felt good on my itchy asshole! He dragged his nutsack across the boys licking mouth. Oh yeahhhhhhh. His testes shifted and heaved as they fought for attention. "Okay. Now I want you to do to me exactly as I'm gonna do to you. We're gonna take turns now. Do what daddy does, make the sounds that daddy does, and then we'll change places, `kay kiddoe?" Jake was having fun now. His peepee was rock hard inside of his unders. Pops slid them off the boy's hips and roughly spread the boys legs. He buried his face in the boy's hairless crotch and took his little dink into his mouth, sucking and groaning like an animal. Jake couldn't believe it! It felt so good (although his daddy's perpetual 5 o'clock shadow scratched his thighs) his eyes rolled heavenward as he clutched at his handsome daddy's sweaty, balding head. His tongue was all over that boy's twitching pecker. Jake could take it no longer and he started whimpering as if he had to pee. But Pops was having none of it. He pulled off the boy's tiny throbber with a wet `slurp' and reached for a bottle of handlotion on his wife's side of the bedstand. He pumped a glob of the stuff onto his index finger, reached around and shoved that finger up his own ass. He was so horned up, he was out of his mind. Then he climbed aboard his little boy's dick, settling down onto it until it cleared his mucked up sphincter. "Now listen, I want you to sit on daddy's dink when we're done here okay? But only after you put daddy's peter in your mouth. Got that?" Jake nodded wildly, his eyes bulging. His dad's creamed up asshole felt like nothing he had ever felt down there before. In no time at all, Leon was bouncing up on down on the boy's underdeveloped penis as he held it in place between his flexing cheeks. Jake laughed at the bouncy, grown-up dink which peeked out from under daddy's t-shirt. Pops was making funny, growly faces as he panted and bounced. Suddenly, Jake's tiny little peanut stretched and strained against the walls of his daddy's gooshy rectum. His own little walnuts climbed back into his quivering little body. The boy whined as a massive tremor wracked his body. He had cum but of course nothing squirted up into his dad because there was nothing to squirt. His burly chest heaving and coated with sweat from all the exertion, Pops relaxed his clenched, tensed-up ass once he realized his boy had some kind of Romper Room version of an orgasm as he settled back on his haunches, preparing himself for his well-earned and much-needed reward: a weird, juicy blowjob courtesy of the fruit of his very own loins. But Little Jake blinked up at his dad blearily and announced that he had other plans... "Can I go play Yu-Gi-Oh! over to Henry's house?" Leon's dick pulsed as he gaped blankly in disbelief at a) the fact that he had just fucked himself on his own son's teensy babydick and b) his own apparently gay kindergartner had grown tired of his dad's fat dick and/or massive man-ass. He just couldn't wrap his brain around the fruity, fickle mentality of today's gay kids. And now he had to deal with the fact that his very own son was a gay kid. He really needed a beer. He rose up off his kid's flaccid peter and rolled over off the disheveled bed, now shame-faced and hot with embarrassment. He fished up his discarded underwear with his size-12 foot and passed them on up to his meaty right hand. "Look down." He rose up on his left leg as he used his briefs to wipe his slimey asscrack . "Go take a shower, get dressed and wait in the car. And don't you say a thing about our little game here to your mother. Got that?" "Un-hunh." Jake didn't seem to have a clue what Pops was referring to as he scooted bare-ass out of his mom and dad's bedroom. Sure that the kid was out of eyeshot, he applied his fist to his aching, throbbing cock and feverishly rubbed out a rope of thick, pungent spooge. He wiped his load off into his dirty briefs, tossed them into the hamper and made his way out of the room and over to the bathroom, his healthy, furry ass-orbs jiggling just under the hem of his Mets shirt as he crossed the hall. What the fuck is going on with me? He wondered as he mindlessly juggled his freshly exhausted nuts.