Oliver's Special Secret

Mb, anal, oral, inc

I wouldn’t say my thoughts about Oliver had ever been entirely pure, but until my supposed wife deserted us for her boss (or, instead, his bank balance), I had always assumed it would be a case of “look but don’t touch” with my son. However, it was in the weeks following her departure last summer that my true feelings for little Ollie began to emerge.

It was not just seeing Ollie naked every day that began to stoke my lust but also those little things that go with looking after a five-year-old boy. Easing down his brightly colored underpants as I got him ready for bed, gazing between his legs as I tied his shoelaces, surreptitiously watching his hand slip down to his crotch when he was bored during our shopping trips—the list could be endless. But it was the erections that tipped me over the edge. Every morning as I helped him out of his pajamas he’d blithely fondle his stiff little “tinkle,” completely unaware of how urgent the sight would make my erection and how desperately I yearned for his evening bath. All day, every day, I would count down the hours until I could soap his tiny body with my bare hands, lingering just a little too long as I pulled back the foreskin on his cute rubbery hard-on and lathered his shiny red glans.

Even then though, I thought I could resist the temptation by relieving the tension myself. I’d lie naked in bed, masturbating to the brink of orgasm again and again while I pictured Ollie holding my cock in both hands as he sucked furiously on my dribbling glans. His slim pale body would be crouched between my knees as I ran my fingers through his fair hair. As my semen erupted, he would start to swallow noisily until he had to break off for air as my last jet of sticky cream plastered his freckled cheeks while a trickle of cum oozed from the corner of his mouth. The thought of Ollie then looking up from his task, his hazel eyes glinting as he flashed his cute gap-toothed smile at me was usually enough to send me over the edge.

Before long though I was using Ollie’s underpants to soak up what seemed like the torrent of cream in his honor—everything from his Jurassic Park cotton briefs to the Barney nylon y-fronts found their way from the laundry basket to around my shaft. I still remember the exact moment I realized that fantasy would not be enough.

Standing naked over the laundry basket in the dark I felt my pulsing cock and pictured Ollie’s hot breath on my glans as he opened his mouth wide to take it. Beginning to shake with lust I switched the landing light off and crept towards Ollie’s door. I could easily make out his sleeping form in the half-darkness. He was on his side facing me as I crouched by the bed and whispered “Ollie” four or five times. Then, with my heart pounding, I slipped my right hand under the duvet and fumbled for the waistband of his pajama bottoms. As my fingers crept under the material, he stirred slightly. I froze for several seconds and then eased my hand out. Still kneeling on the floor, I drew in several large silent breaths and tried again. This time Ollie stayed still. As my fingers reached his limp little pecker, I felt a surge of excitement, my swollen dick jumping as if it was on a lead.

Almost not daring to breathe, I found the tip of my little boy’s cock and began gently rubbing with my thumb and forefinger. Slowly, imperceptibly at first, Ollie’s cock grew stiff to my touch. Increasing the pace slightly, I felt him stir and begin to turn on his back. A sudden intake of breath told me he was awake.

“It’s okay, Ollie. It’s only Daddy,” I whispered as soothingly as I could.

“Daddy? What are...” murmured Ollie, trying to sit up.

“Everything’s okay, Ollie-bear,” I said as I eased him back down with my free hand. Still pulling his foreskin back and forth, I added, “Daddy’s giving you a special tinkle-tickle.”

For several seconds, there was silence, but then I felt Ollie’s body relax slightly, and his prick began to stiffen again. Sounding more confident than I was, I stopped masturbating him and whispered, “Why don’t we go to Daddy’s bed? There’s more space there, Ollie-bear.”

“I can sleep in your bed, Daddy?” came the reply.

“Of course, you can. We’ll keep each other company.”

“Can I sleep in your bed all night?” he asked, seemingly oblivious to my hand down his waistband.

“All night,” I reassured him. “Just stay still a little while,” I added.

I removed my hand and pushed back the duvet. In silence, I eased Ollie’s pajama trousers down, away from his ankles and then picked him up as his stiff little pecker bobbed against my lower stomach.

As we entered the light of my room, I lay Ollie on the bed, aware that his eyes were glued to my erection. Sitting beside him, I leaned forward and planted a long kiss on his lips, exchanging a smile with him as my fingers reached his dicklet once again. For, at least, a couple of minutes, I worked on his little dicklet, pausing only to fondle his balls and kiss him as his hips began to push at my short downward strokes. As his cheeks started to flush and his breath became more rapid, I increased the rhythm. Moving my fingers down the base of his two inches as I repositioned myself, I brought my lips down to his bobbing glans. Several long sucks and my tongue wrapping around his knob were all it took to set Ollie’s shuddering, his body rigid as the spasm of bliss elicited a tiny whimper. Finally, he subsided as I gave his little tool one more suck.

“Did you like getting your tinkle tickled, Ollie-bear?”

“Yes Daddy,” he said quietly, his right hand already resting on his glistening, hairless genitals.

“Good. Now I’ve given you a very, very secret special tinkle-tickle will you give me one?”

“Yeah, Daddy,” came the more positive response.

Barely able to contain my lust I positioned Ollie on the floor and used my hands to guide him to my aching shaft. After I’d showed him how to masturbate me, he gave a few hesitant rubs and then quickly found the rhythm I wanted. He gazed intently at my knob as his tiny hands ran up and down my shaft. As my hands guided his lips to my knob, he opened his mouth wide and started to suck noisily. His wanking was inevitably out of synch with his sucking, but the feel of his teeth and tongue were ending pulses of bliss through my prick while his warm saliva was teasing my tool as it trickled down to my balls. Now, it was my turn to start pushing my dick up at his mouth, upsetting his rhythm but bringing me closer and closer to the brink.

I was desperate to shoot my wad down his throat, but I knew he wouldn’t be expecting it. Still bucking my hips, I toyed with the idea of forcibly holding his face down while my cream erupted but had visions of him choking. With an effort of willpower, I told him to stop and eased his head up with both hands. Ollie looked up at me quizzically but broke into a cheeky grin as I leaned forward and kissed him on the nose. He did not even ask what I was doing as I got him to kneel over the edge of the by the bed and moved behind him.

“Just relax, Ollie-bear,” I whispered. “I’m just going to give you a bottom tickle.”
He jumped a little bit as I began to run my glans up and down the cleft between his small rounded little cheeks but then relaxed as I smoothed his hair with my left hand. Almost at the brink, I eased his small buttocks open and spread my knees further to get to the right height. Looking down, I gently guided my prick up and down until I felt his scalding little anus around the tip. Breathing as shallowly as I could to avoid blowing my wad immediately, I prodded very delicately at his puckering anus, all the while squeezing and nursing my erection. Just a few strokes of my hand and the feel of Ollie’s buns on my glans was all it took. As the ecstasy began to erupt in my loins, I held my little boy’s hips and gave one final prod that made him catch his breath. For several blissful seconds, I rode the incredible spasms for as long as I could. And then the spunk flew from my rigid cock and straight into the entrance of Ollie’s hot little hole. The surprise of my hot wad made him jump, but I held him in place as jet after jet of thick, sticky semen plastered his hole and began trickling between his legs and down his thighs.
“Good boy, good boy,” I soothed, squeezing the length of my shaft for the last few drops of goo.

After letting my bloated member fall from between his buns, I sat on the edge of the bed and cuddled him in my lap. With a long, lingering kiss on his lips, I looked down into his slightly bemused eyes. Stroking his hair, I wondered what to say next. But it was Ollie who broke the silence.
“Daddy, can you tickle my tinkle again?”

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