Date: Fri, 9 Nov 2007 00:35:22 -0800 (PST) From: sammy garvin Subject: Little Jakie Likes Butt, Part 5 "What in the FRICK?" Coach Pritchard clapped his hamhock hands around Udo's ears and yanked his slobbering, toothless head off the hulking Center's raging dick. The beet red corona popped out of the janitor's sucking maw and The boy whined dejectedly as his constricting nutsack cramped and hung fat and low in defeat under the wet, wilting boypork. Pritchard feasted his eyes on Solomon's glistening, thickly muscled thighs, his bloated tackle and his especially his exposed, winking analcleft. He pulled the janitor out of his seat and yanked him out of the way. Expectation hung thick in the air and all four parties wondered what could possibly happen next. The 17 year old All-Conference football star/ virgin scuttled hastily back to the cinder block wall, his sweaty ass skidding on the aluminum topped table where he was the willing victim of Udo's toe-curling mouth-rape. Coach P. took Udo's place in the folding chair that functioned as service station. He leaned forward in between the kid's outstretched calves, unconsciously licking his lips at the prospect of coaxing a thick, salty load out of the boy's heaving scrotum. The kid's ass smelled of healthy unwashed boy, a familiar scent which only just now tweaked the lust stirring in his polyblend coach shorts. Udo and Mitch couldn't help but notice as Coach P.'s jockstrap cleared the waistband of those shorts which barely managed to contain the twin globes of the middle-aged man's big, fuzzy Irish ass. "I want everybody outta here. Now. Not you, Solomon. You're not going anywhere." Neither Mitch nor Udo dared move a muscle. "I'll need to clarify exactly what in hell is happening here with Mr. Solomon and I don't need any assistance from you cocksuckers." But lust got the better of Pritchard. His mouth went slack and his eyes narrowed as he bent over into the kid's lap helplessly, like a somnambulant, taking as much of the athlete's flaccid cock into his salivating mouth as he could possibly handle. The coach moaned and exhaled through his nose as he suckled like a nursing calf on the meat slowly thickening in his inexperienced mouth. Ben Solomon's eyes rolled back into his skull, as much with pleasure as with sheer shock at this wholly unexpected turn of events. Juicy slobbering noises filled the rank air of the equipment room as saucer-eyed Mitch returned to the job of fisting his tingling prong. Udo crouched down and positioned himself under the table between the coach's knees, spreading them wide for a quick, opportunistic suck or handjob ^Ö whichever the uptight father of two would allow. But it wasn't meant to be. Pritchard thumped the old perv on the top of his elderly skull and the janitor collapsed in a heap of coverall and drool. Mitch D'Amico suppressed a betraying cough and a laugh at the expense of the unconscious old knobslobber, the violent outburst had nearly sent him over the edge into a cum-splattering seizure of sudden orgasm but he pinched the tip of his cock hard to waylay a premature nutbust. He just had to see the tight-assed Catholic Promisekeeper choke on ol' stone-faced Solomon's babygravy. He wondered if Solomon was a moaner or if he would stoically seed Pritchard's tonsils like the gruff, ill-tempered soldier everyone imagined him to be. He had whimpered on several occasions as Udo worked his deep-throaty magic but everyone who had ever been on the receiving end of one of the elderly janitor's notorious blowjobs had been reduced to infantile mutterings if not outright whining and barely suppressed hollering^Åthe man didn't have a tooth in his head and his velveteen throat muscles were practically magic fingers in this larynx. Coach Pritchard's thick, sausage fingers were now lovingly massaging Solomon's peach-fuzzy testicles as he slobbered all over the quaking young newbie's taut, pulsing prick. What Pritchard lacked in terms of technical skill he compensated for in sheer amateurish enthusiasm. His nubby, white teeth preempted several searing ejaculation possibilities after three or four consecutive slick, detail-oriented passes at the kid's shaft and glans^Åbut the near-misses only served to tease the boy and would make the inevitable release all the more sweet. Coach was really going to town now and Ben was gearing up for a mind-blowing, throat-coating cumblast but FUCK^ÅCoach's teeth scraped his sensitive corona and all that momentum was lost AGAIN. Coach was practically in heat now and was moaning from sheer frustration. He need his prodigy's spunk to breed his gullet and he needed it NOW GODAMMIT! Ben decided to take matters into his own hands, literally, and he grabbed his coach's balding strawberry blonde melon, holding it steady as he proceeded to fuck the living shit out of it. Pritchard groaned 'thanks' in breathy, spit-choked gibberish and the kid's burly hips bucked and fucked like a rabbit on steroids. Mitch couldn't believe his eyes. Number 54's eyes were wide and bugged, his jaw hung and his tongue lolled as his fingers dug painfully into Pritchard's temples. His hips fucked up into the family man's ruddy, huffing face. Anytime the coach's scraping teeth got in the way of moist, tongue- fluttery pleasure, young Solomon punched his straining dong past the older man's gag reflex and the coach would retch great gobs of viscous saliva all over the boy's tensed up groinal region. "ohyeahohyeahohyeahi'mgonnacumarrrrrr^Åhereitcums^Å" Mitch fisted his pre-cum slimed up cock in the dark, deep banks of stacked shoulderpads like a boy possessed as he watched Ben Solomon's ass levitate off the table, his mighty cheeks clenching as he ground his rust-colored pubic hair into his mentor's doughy, flushed nose as it gasped frantically for air. Coach Pritchard's eyes became teary slits as thick globs of balljuice pulsed past his lap-happy tongue and flooded his adenoids. "aaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr" Solomon played the skullfuck like a fiddle, relaxing the pressure on Pritchard's pulsepoints so the coach could bob and worm and wheedle the savory remains of boyspooge out of Solomon's slackening schlong. Coach P.'s left hand curled around the still-spasming pecker pistoning lazily in and out of the neo-con's lipless suckhole. Ben Solomon shuddered like a dying giant as Pritchard tickled gentle, relaxing curlicues around his boy's damp, seizing rectum-meat. "Oh yeah, c'mon^Å finger me Coach.", the Center sighed as he took hold of Pritchard's forefinger and plunged it deep into his asshole, finger-fucking himself to a new plateau of post-orgasmic peace and relaxation. As Coach Pritchard lovingly finger-fucked his special boy, his A-Number One Pro-Ball Material Player, he spied a shadowy figure to his right cop a slight squat, wiggle just enough to slide his fitted trousers up and over his bowed, tree-trunk thighs and what was surely a ginormous hairy wop ass. Coach was riveted. Who had witnessed this anti-Christian transgression? He thrummed Solomon's prostate gland with his index finger purely out of polite, gentlemanly courtesy as he gulped at the straggling, viscid strands of semen stubbornly stuck in his throat. His hunger for dick slaked, he wanted no further homosexual action whatsoever. He poked his fat indexical finger savagely at the boy's ass-gland and then slapped at the young stud's meaty shank dismissively as he pulled his blistered poker out of the kid's pucker with a wet 'pop', which was followed by a whispery scentless fart as the strapping young buck relaxed all his muscles. Coach P. gave his index finger a fleeting, unconscious sniff (it smelled like jock-ass) and then he admonished his star athlete to put his clothes on and say nothing to nobody about any of this. Solomon agreed to do as much as he scrambled off the BJ table and felt around blindly for his jockstrap, gym shorts and sweat-stained t-shirt. Udo The Janitor groaned and moaned pathetically from the poured concrete floor underneath the table. The spinning, gloomy equipment room smelled like musky jock-butt and his ancient, pervy, closet-homo Russkie pecker responded in kind. He massaged his aching head, his coveralled package, and his nubby, dried-cranberry nipples as he spied his latest, greatest cock conquest dangle up above between the legs of the aluminum table. He reached out to the fat appendage which hung low and swung like a pendulum from up above but then, all at once, it disappeared up and over the elastic band of an X-Large Bike jockstrap and then into its ample cup, closely followed by thin, grey, threadbare Warwick HS Panthers gym shorts. No boysperm for Udo this day^Åbut cheap American Vodka would make him forget. And that mick coach would pay. Oh yes, the Irishman would pay alright. *** Jacob John D'Amico's little hand hadn't left the warm, wide-spread 'v' of Officer Trident's crotch since the two had climbed back into the NYPD squad car that was ostensibly escorting the six-year old home. Trident's freshly drained dick twitched compulsively against the binding, synthetic fiber of his uniform trousers as he gnawed at his gum intently and focused on the barren streets he hoped would eventually lead him to the little perv's address. "So^Åwheredyaliveagain?" the officer asked impassively. Little Jakie squeezed Officer's Trident's package and pulled at his zippered fly with both hands. "Your big butt is all hairy just like my dad's and it tasted like apple juice." Trident winced and humped up at his passenger's insistent squeezings. "You're really weird, kid, you know that?" Little Jakie scooted closer and fumbled with the policeman's zipper. "Hey, I don't want you doin' that, understand?" "I wanna see your peener. I wanna put it in my mouth again." Officer Trident groaned at the thought of another amazing, illegal blowjob. He gnawed thoughtfully on his sugarless gum and toyed with the radio in an effort to distract himself from all this nasty, hellfire perversion. "Okay. What we did back there was bad and if you tell anybody we'll both go to Hell. Y'wanna go to Hell? You want me to go to Hell?" Jake frowned and turned away toward the passenger side window of the squad car. Officer Trident could stand no more of this as his balls were boiling with a fresh load of scalding cum which he needed to shoot into his troublesome little passenger, somehow, someway, for the second time that day. He was a good Catholic and a good father so clearly he would take the righteous path to salvation but the thought of the kid's tight little asshole made him bone up like a monkey-fuck Neanderthal fuckpig. "Listen, kid. I wanna bang you in your butt like your Pops fucks your Mommy, okay? I really do. That tight little can of yours^Ådamn. You'd be like a rag-doll bouncin' up and down on my hog if I got a crack at that snug little shitter of yours. But that can't happen, okay? It'd be no damn good and we'd both go straight to Hell, okay?" Jake scowled and withdrew his hand from the Guido cop's gently undulating hips. Officer Trident replaced the little boy's hand on his aching, straining crotch. "But that don' t mean you can't give me a handjob, alright? Maybe put your cute little mouth down there^Å" And with that Officer Trident rose up his hips and undid this fly so the kid could access his turgid copmeat as it flexed and bounced from out of his soggy Kmart Towncraft briefs. He placed the kindegartner's soft little mitt on his rosy, flushed dong and he shuddered and sighed as he masturbated his slimy prick with those stubby T-ball-playing fingers . "Y'wanna suck me off little man?" Trident was finding it awfully hard to focus on the driving task at hand as the midget's sweaty little mitt milked his daddy dick. "I want you to screw me, like my dad does when my mommy's away." Officer AWOL was gonna have to pull over soon because all of this was getting to be just a little too much. The thought of shoving his fat dong between those pearly little cheeks and into that priceless little virgin hole was consuming his imagination. The boy's hand was making him crazy but his wet little mouth would send him straight over the edge and they wouldn't have to explore the deep, dark depths of cop on toddler homosex. Officer Trident reached over and massaged the nape of his passenger's warm, coltish little neck. "I want you to suck my big dick, you little^Åuh^Åmy little buddy you." Jake's hand fell away from his driver's stiff shaft as Trident directed the kid's head to his lap. The wet, mushy wetness of the tyke's pup-like oral administrations forced the renegade officer off the road and directly into the weed-choked parking lot of a long-abandoned White Castle drive-up restaurant deep in the heart of Queens. Officer Trident dropped his manual ride into park and then slid his trousers down around his hairy thighs and knees so the kid could have free access to his fat cock and balls. "Screw my butt, Mr. Policeguy." The horny little snot in T-ball uniform begged. "Nah. Just suck my dick one more time and then I'll take you straight home." Jakie sucked all of Officer Trident's stinky fat dink into his mouth and sucked with all his might. Trident's eyeballs rolled back into his thick, Wop skull as thoughts of the boy's tight little butt dirtied up his already filthy Roman-Catholic sanctified mind. "ohhhhhhhshit. Sorry." The pig apologized for no apparent reason as his indifferent juvie cocksucker bobbed frantically up and down on the patrolman's porky, twitching pecker. Trident was so horned beyond all rational reason he decided he just had to have a go at that pert little pooper. He removed the boy's dedicated little mouth from his aching schlong and scooped Little Jakie up in his thickly muscled guns for the purpose of putting some hurt on the bantamweight's tight little ass. With his pants down around his ankles and his erect dork poking at his fuzzy bellymeat, Officer Trident lugged Little Jakie to a grassy patch behind the dumpster in back of the seedy, abandoned White Castle deep in the heart of Queens. Trident plopped the kid down in the gravelly square-footage of weeds and ordered him to drop his leggings as the six-year-old gaped at the drooling fat cock erect and poised to do unheard of damage to his precious little butt. He removed his gun-belt for the second time that day as he leered at the little boy he was about to molest. "Get on your hands and knees, you." Jakie slipped the leggings down around his upraised legs then he flipped 'round doggy style and waggled his butt at the strangely surly cop who spit out his gum and rubbed his hands together in anticipation of what was certain to be the speediest fuck on record for Fuckmeister Trident. The stocky cop fell to his knees behind the ass-up minor and he clasped his meathooks on the tender jailbait cheeks of his prospective fuckmate. He spread the boy's cheeks wide and smirked down wryly at the brown-eye tucked deep within the crack that looked so impossibly tiny and so impenetrable. "I'm gonna screw you good and hard and you're not gonna make a sound, okay?" The boy waggled his naked butt at Ossifer Buttfuck yet again as the thickset Guinea stud nudged his drooling cockhead against the unyielding chocolate starfish that served as the youngster's shitchute. The older man's substantial thumbs stretched the tyke's buttmeat so far apart that the rugrat yelped and shuddered helplessly. Officer Trident lost all control and thrust his stout cockhead past the littlepunk's constricting sphincter and commenced to fucking his dicktip in and out of the shaver's unrelenting rectum like a frustrated jackhammer. The ass at his fingertips simply would not accept the full expanse of his grown-up porkloaf so he was left to jab at the supple knothole like a bullmoose breeding a Chihuahua. But that was okay because the pliant juvenile ringmeat was wringing his manroot like a tourniquet snuffing a throbbing artery. Reduced to animal desperation, the flatfoot gathered all his strength at his knees and lunged violently at the kid's hind-end in a reckless effort to plunge the full length of his stalk up the shrieking little boy's hermetic rectum. The youngster's seizing asshole balked at the effort and heexpelled the tumescent, adult pecker out of his tight little posterior as if the thing was a toxic intruder or a turd. In the process, Little Jakie's seizing bunghole managed to massage a load of sticky-sweet semen out of the deputy's smarting scrotum and the lawman hollered hoarsely at the heavens above as he feverishly frigged his junk, spattering what was left of his steaming load all over the kid's exposed, widespread ass. Officer Trident bucked and convulsed as he surrendered the bitter end of his scrotal glut. He sighed mightily and then relaxed on his haunches as the tot, whose snug rear end brought him to blinding orgasm, turned back to face the sodomite and said: "That was fun but can I smell your butt again?" Officer Trident squinted at the little sex-freak crouched there before him on the ground with his pants down around his ankles and then smirked. "Get on your back." Little Jakie did just as he was told and flipped over on his back. Officer Trident pushed his polyblend, standard-issue trousers down around his ankles as far as they would go and waddled over the length of the six-year-old's mostly naked body as it lay prone on the weed-choked gravel. Officer Trident popped another stick of Watermelon Twist gum into his arid mouth and then copped a deep squat over the kid's face. The boy's soft, humid rimjob felt like an assfull of fuzzy bunnies, rainbows and unicorns that evoked a third, utterly painful erection which he tended to with his meaty hand like a diabetic bleeding insulin from a turnip. He bounced lightly on his bulging haunches as the little kid's tongue painted his fur-choked anus with saliva. He squeezed two sad little pearlescent droplets of sperm from the vertex of his swollen prong all the while the boyface buried between his generous, tawny asscheeks squealed with delight while his grown-up mansphincter cinched and seized in orgasmic response to the relentless tonguebath happening below. Trident wiped his dick with his forefinger and smeared it on a nearby weed. "Stop it now okay? We're all done here. " He rose up off the kid's grinning face and pulled up his trousers. As he fastened his gunbelt around his husky hips, he shook his head at the kid in dismay and said: "You're weird, kid." Little Jakie smiled and remarked: "Your butt is big and stinky and it tastes like cranapple juice." Officer Trident was too cum-spent and exhausted to think of a proper cop-like response to the tyke's asinine comment. He directed the kid to get up and get dressed with the casual flip of his two fat indexical fingers and he motioned the kid to scoot on back to the squad car.