The Wayward Gene
                                           By
                                     Little Dan




Dr. Marco Velho gazed down through the eyepiece of his new
digital microscope and again studied the wayward gene he had
isolated more than twenty years ago.  The ‘aging’ gene, or
the ‘non-aging’ gene to be more precise.  The little devil
that caused severe arrested development in young children.
The years would move forward, but their minds and bodies
would forever lag behind, ceasing to progress any further.
They would be toddlers their whole lives, until after the
age of fifty when their skins would wrinkle and their hair
would turn grey.  A peculiar apparition- aged babies and
infants.


He stood up from his chair and donned his white coat.
Outside in his waiting room was a new family who had heard
of his work, and brought their child to him, not that there
was much that could be done.   The simple truth was that a
few people carried the gene latently, and if they married
non-carriers there would be
no problem. However in the rare case that two carriers
conceived a child, the gene would activate, and the child
would therefore be affected.


He opened the door into his waiting room and welcomed the
Abbots.  Mr. And Mrs. Abbot, along with little blond Timmy.


“Won’t you come in,” he welcomed them.  As they passed him
he tousled little Timmy’s hair, and Timmy promptly giggled.
To all outward appearances Timmy seemed to be a normal child
of two and a half or three.   But this was far from the
truth.


Sitting across from Dr. Velho,  Bill Abbot studied the
doctor.  He had heard Dr. Velhol was the world’s leading
expert on Timmy’s bizarre condition.  Before him sat a tall
distinguished wise looking  man in his early fifties, with
thick black hair just starting to go grey at the temples.
The doctor folded his hands on the desk and smiled at him.
He had perfect white teeth, and a straight well-formed nose.
Above his thin upper lip was just the hint of a neatly
barbered black and grey moustache which gave him a dapper
look.


Dr. Velho on his part studied the Abbot family.  The father
was a blond blue-eyed rugged looking man who had probably
been a high school football hero. It seemed he had married
his high school sweetheart who looked as if she might have
been the head cheerleader in her teenage years.  She also
was blond and blue-eyed, and she seemed sweet and cheerful.
And there was Timmy, little Timmy, with his big blue eyes
and his thick thatch of yellow hair, wearing a spotless
little white outfit.  White pullover shirt, white pants,
white sox.   His parents obviously took very good care of
him.


“Say hello to the nice doctor, Timmy,” Bill Abbot urged.


“Hello, doctor,” Timmy said in his high-pitched voice,
reaching out his little hand to take Dr. Velho’s large hand
and shake it.


“Hello there, Timmy.  I’m very happy to meet you.”  Dr.
Velho said, grasping the child’s tiny hand.


“Me too,” said Timmy.


“Why don’t you tell me about Timmy, Mr. Abbot,” the doctor
urged.


“Well, he’s what you see,” Bill Abbott said.  “A cute little
three year old boy.  He’s been that way for years and
years.”


“I see,” the doctor pondered.  “And how old is Timmy?”


“Well tomorrow’s his birthday and he’ll be of legal age.”


“You don’t say,” said Dr. Velho.


“Yeah.  Old enough to vote, not that he ever could.”


“Oh I don’t see why he couldn’t,” Dr. Velho stated.  “He
probably has more natural intelligence than three quarters
of the people who are voting now.”


“You don’t understand,” interjected Sue Abbot.  “Timmy has a
memory problem.”


“In what way?” asked the doctor.  This was a new twist.


“He never remembers anything for more than eight hours.


“Yes,” Bob Abbot said.  “You wake him up in the morning and
he has no idea what happened the day before.  He remembers
his mother and me. He remembers how to brush his teeth,
bathe and take care of himself.  He remembers how to speak.
But events---forget it.   Nothing.    Yesterday we took him
to the circus.  Watch.”  Bill Abbot paused and addressed his
son.  “Timmy.  Do you remember what we did yesterday?”


Timmy thought and thought.  “No,” he finally answered.


“Don’t you remember we went to the circus?”


“What’s a circus?” Timmy asked very interested.
Bill turned his attention back to the doctor.  “You see?” he
asked. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing.  And he just loved the
clowns.”


“Interesting,” Dr. Velho commented stroking his moustache.
“Very interesting.”


“Up until the time he was about three years old, everything
was fine,” Bill Abbot explained.  “We thought we had a
perfectly normal child.  And then time stopped in its tracks
for him.  He never grew again, he never aged, and even his
mind stayed at that three-year old level.”


“I guess he’s always going to be my precious baby,” Sue
Abbot said.  “Maybe I’m really lucky and just don’t know it.
I just love babies and now I’ve got one for life.”


“That’s a wonderful way to look at it,” said Dr. Velho.
“Other parents might have put the little fellow in an
institution.”


“Oh, how awful,” Sue Abbot replied.


“Yeah,” said Bill Abbot.  “He’s our little boy.  And we love
him.  We’ll take good care of him till the day we die.”


“We’ve finally come up with a name for this condition.
We’re calling it Juventudatude,”  said Velho.


“Jueventudatude?” Bill repeated.


“Yes.  It’s a Latin derived word for the state of being
perpetually very very young.”


“Too bad I didn’t get it when I was twenty-one,” said Sue. .


“At least now we can go out and raise money to study it,”
said Doctor Velho.  “Maybe someday we’ll come up with
something and another child will be spared the sorrow of
being always a baby.  Why don’t I take Timmy into my
examination room, and have a little look at him.”


“Fine,” said Bill Abbot.


“You two just sit here, and I’ll bring him back in a little
while.”


“Sure.  Timmy, go with the nice doctor, okay?”


“Okay,” Timmy happily agreed.  He put his little hand in Dr.
Velho’s big hand and they went into the examination room.
Dr. Velho locked the door behind him.


“All right, my little man.  Let’s get you undressed.  Raise
your arms.”  When the boy raised his arms, Dr. Velho lifted
the white pullover over his head.  “Okay.  Now the pants.”
The doctor unbuckled Timmy’s small belt and opened two
buttons.



The boy’s pants dropped to his ankles, and the doctor helped
him step out of them.  Then he gently lowered the child’s
little white jockey shorts.  “Child?”  he laughed to
himself.  “This child was almost out of his teens.


When Timmy stood there naked, the doctor looked down on him
approvingly.  What a perfect little body.  So very well
proportioned.  Hairless.  Angel soft skin.
A cute little rear end, and in front a teeny weeny little
appendage for making pee pee.  Dr. Velho gently lifted Timmy
onto the examination table and began by checking his heart
and lungs.


“Aaggh,” yelled Timmy when the stethoscope touched his
chest.


“What’s the matter, little guy?  Is it cold?”


“Yes.  Cold,” Timmy answered.


“Well, we’ll just blow on it a little to warm it up.”   He
blew hot breath on the instrument as he watched Timmy.  Then
he put it back on the boy’s chest  and began to listen.
Everything seemed just fine.  The pulse was good. The blood
pressure was fine.   “Okay, just one last thing I want to
do?”


“What’s that?” asked Timmy, smiling up at the doctor.


“I have to take your temperature.  Just lie face down on the
table,”


“Okay,” said Timmy as he lay face down on the table.  The
doctor went to a little table and took a thermometer,
squeezing a little lubrication from a tube on the tip of it,
and then he came back to Timmy.  He looked down.


“Ye Gads” he thought.  “What a gorgeous tiny little ass.  So
round.  So firm.  He squeezed a luscious cheek
appreciatively with his left hand as he inserted the
thermometer into the tiny opening with his other hand.
“”What a sweet little hole,” he thought, his mouth going a
little dry and his eyes glazing. Oh, to examine that a
little more closely.  But now was not the time.  First visit
and all, and both parents sitting in his office.   After
three minutes he removed the skinny glass instrument from
the boy’s warm rear and read it.  He marked the  numbers on
Timmy’s new chart.  Then he helped the boy get dressed and
they returned to the office where the Abbots were waiting
for him.


“Did Dr. Velho examine you?” Bill Abbot asked his son.


“Yes,” said Timmy.


“What did he do?”


“I forget,” the boy answered.


“That’s okay,” his father said.  “We’ll go home now.   What
do you think, Doctor?” he asked.


“Well, of course, there’s nothing we can do for him.  But I
would like to follow up on Timmy. Reexamine him every two
weeks if that would be all right with you. Kind of keep a
record.”


“Fine,” said Bill Abbot.


Dr. Velho looked into his appointment book.  “How would
Wednesday the twelfth be---say around eleven a.m.?”


“It’s up to my wife.  She has to bring him.  I’ll be
working.”


“That would be fine,” Sue said.  “It’s not like I’m busy
picking him up at school or anything.”   She laughed a
little sadly.  They said their goodbyes and left, with Dr.
Velho giving Timmy a big hug and letting the little man kiss
him on the cheek. The Abbots walked to their car, got in and
drove off.


“There’s nothing he can do.” thought Bill.  “Well, he had
really known that even before they went.  His baby was going
to be a baby forever.  And he loved his baby.  He loved his
baby so much he really didn’t want him to ever change.  He
was so precious and adorable.  He would always be precious
and adorable.  Bill’s teeth ached, wanting to grab Timmy and
squeeze him to his chest, planting wet kisses all over his
face.  But he was driving and had to suppress that urge.


Tomorrow they were having a birthday party for him.  The
other neighborhood kids were coming over for cake and ice
cream.  Even little four year old, Mandy, his little
girlfriend from down the street.  And there would be
presents.  Lots of presents for his little guy.  There was a
special present Bill was dying to give his son.  He had been
waiting for years.  All these years, to show the little guy
how much his daddy really loved him.  And tomorrow was his
birthday.  He would be legal.  He was coming of age.  Maybe
not physically and mentally, but certainly chronologically.
Nobody could be sent to jail for inappropriate behavior.
According to the law, tomorrow Timmy would reach the age of
consent, and could consent to whatever any disgusting lecher
might propose.  Absent mindedly, Bill stroked his cock and
noticed that it was erecting.  One more day.  One more
fucking day.   Ever since he himself had been a small boy,
he had felt the appeal of other small boys.  But that was a
no no.  You could go to prison for a no no.  So he
suppressed all such desires and married a fine woman, and
they had had a beautiful little boy.  A beautiful little boy
who would never change.  He would always be beautiful and
little.   And tomorrow –legal.
Bill smiled happily.  And that night after tucking Timmy
into bed he and Sue retired.  But there was no sex.  Bill
just couldn’t contemplate sex with Sue tonight. Not when
tomorrow he might possibly be playing around with Timmy  ---
-----He was so excited he had trouble falling asleep.
After he saw that Sue was totally unconscious, stealthily he
moved his hand down to his large turgid member and gently
began stroking it, thinking of fine blond hair, and a firm
little rear end, and his boy’s sweet mouth.  “Ugh, ugh,” he
tried to be as quiet as possible as the seed gushed out of
his pecker, sliming the clean white sheets.  Tomorrow Sue
would wonder about the stiff patches on the linen, and he
would tell her he had had a wet dream.  First one since he
was a teenager.


The next day, while Timmy played on the floor with his
blocks, Bill and Sue decorated the house for the three
o’clock party, they put out party hats, and snappers, and
balloons.   They set the table for the sweet goodies, and
they hung a  ‘pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey’ game on the living
room wall.


Around three o’clock, all the others kids showed up.  “Happy
birthday, Timmy.  Happy birthday. “  Mandy gave Timmy a big
kiss on the cheek as she handed him a present.  Then she
looked up at her father, Hank Casey, the hunky twenty-five
year old dad who had brought her.  He reached down and
ruffled her hair affectionately.


Bill came over and shook hands with Hank.  He offered Hank a
drink, something a little stronger than the Coca Cola the
kids were going to have.


He and Hank went into the dining room where Bill poured him
a glass of scotch.


“So how old is Timmy today?” asked Hank.


Bill told him.


“Yeah.  Sure,” Hank laughed.


“No. It’s true,” Bill protested.  “I’m not kidding you.
Today Timmy is legally an adult.   He has this medical
condition called Juventudatude.”


“Juventudatude?  I never heard of it.”


“Yeah.  It’s a rare disorder.  It’s genetic.  He’s always
gonna look and act three years old.  Even when he’s as old
as I am now.”


“You,re kidding.  Right?”


“I’m not.   He’ll look and act like this for most of his
life.”


“Wow,” said Hank.  “I had no idea.”


“But just forget what I told you,” Bill said.  “In his heart
and mind he’s just a little boy. And that’s how we’re always
gonna treat him.”


The party went off smoothly, and Timmy actually got closest
of anybody to pinning the tail on the donkey.  He was just a
half inch off the donkey’s rear end.  Everybody cheered.
After the guests left, Sue washed the dishes, as Bill took
down the decorations.  Then Bill sat down on the living room
floor and began to roll marbles with Timmy.


Around nine o’clock Sue said she was tired and went to bed.
SI’m not sleepy yet,  hon,” Bill said.  You go to bed.  I’ll
stay up a while, and I’ll put Timmy to bed.”  Sue smiled and
climbed the stairs to their bedroom.


“Come on, little guy,” Bill said to Timmy.  “It’s time to go
upstairs and get ready for bed. Okay?”



“Okay, daddy,” the boy answered and took his hand.  They
went up the staircase and down the hall to Timmy’s small
bedroom.  Gently Bill stood the tiny child in front of him
and began removing his garments.  The shoes, the socks, now
the shirt, now the pants, and finally his underpants.


“Where’s my jammies?” Timmy asked his father.


“I’ll get them in a moment.  Meanwhile come over on the bed
here and sit in daddy’s lap.”  He patted the location.
Timmy approached the bed, and Bill lifted him easily onto
his lap.  He put his hand under Timmy’s bottom as he was
lifting the boy, and almost broke into a cold sweat.  What
a perfect little rear.  Round,  firm, like two beautiful
bubbles side by side.  And the boy’s whole ass almost fit
exactly into his big palm.   He sat the boy down on his lap
with his arms tightly around the boy’s body, pressing him to
his chest.  The kid was so delicious he could have eaten him
up.  Of course, he wasn’t really a kid any more, but given
the circumstances it was hard not to think of him as a kid.


“Daddy, you’re so strong,” Timmy breathed, luxuriating in
the gigantity and warmth of his daddy’s body.


“I have to be strong to take care of my baby boy,” he
answered.  “Come on, let’s play a little game.”


“A game?” Timmy asked. “What kind of a game?”


Bill lifted Timmy’s small foot and grabbed his big toe.
“What’s this?” he asked.


“My toe,” Timmy giggled.


“And what’s this?”


“My next toe.”  He was laughing now.  Daddy was tickling his
foot.


“That’s right,” Bill said proudly.  His little boy was so
smart.  “Now we’re gonna play ‘this little piggy’.”


“’This little piggy’?”


“Right.  You remember.”  The kid didn’t remember, but so
what?  He took the boy’s big toe and worked down his foot
till he got to the littlest toe.  “This little piggy went to
market.  This little piggy stayed home.  This little piggy
had roast beef.  This little piggy had none, and the last
little piggy, the littlest little piggy,”  he tickled the
boy’s littlest toe,  “This little piggy went wee wee wee wee
all the way home.  And his tickling fingers ran all the way
up the boys leg.  All the way up.   Timmy was laughing and
laughing.  This game was so much fun.


“And what’s this here?” Bill asked rolling the little finger
of flesh in his fingers.  “Is this another little toe?  Is
this another little piggy?”


The boy laughed.  His daddy was so silly.  “Daddy.  That’s
my pee pee.”


“Is that what it is?” Bill joked.  “Such a cute little pee
pee.”  He kept rolling it in his fingers.  The boy wasn’t
getting hard.  “Must be another effect of Juventudatude,”
thought Bill.   But Timmy was enjoying it anyway.  He was
gazing into his father’s eyes with adoration.  He really
loved his daddy.  He loved his mommy too of course, but he
really really loved his daddy.  The very most.



Bill couldn’t restrain himself any longer.  He lowered his
tongue to the boy’s body and began licking the fragrant
skin.  The arms, the legs, the chest, the pee pee.
Then he turned the boy around and licked his back, and then
down to his firm little butt.  He let his tongue wander
between the two cheeks and lapped between the sweet bubbles.
Timmy laughed delightedly.


“That tickles, daddy,” he said.  Silly daddy.  Bill’s tongue
strayed down and soon he was mouthing the little set of
testicles, he wanted to swallow them whole- they were so
succulent.  The little boy’s face was getting flushed and he
started making little noises of delight.  He threw his arm
around his daddy’s neck. “Oh, daddy.” He moaned.


“You like that, Timmy?  You like what daddy’s doing to you?”


“Yes, daddy,” the boy breathed hoarsely.


“I’ll tell you a little secret.  You wanna hear a secret?”


“Yes, daddy,” he said eagerly.


“Daddy has a pee pee too.”


“You do?” the boy asked.


“Yes I do?  Would you like to see it?”


“Yes, daddy,” he answered.  “Let me see it.”


“No.  You have to say please.”


“Okay.  Please, daddy, let me see your pee pee.”


Bill maneuvered the boy so he could open his pants and pull
down the zipper.  He reached into his boxers and extracted
his large stiff penis, now displaying it before the amazed
little guy.


“Daddy!  It’s so big!”


Yes.  Daddy’s a big boy.  He has a big pee pee.”


Can I touch it, daddy?”


“Of course you can, baby.”   He put his hand on Bill’s thick
rod.  He was filled with wonderment.  “It’s so hard, daddy.
Why is it so hard?”


“Because it’s excited, baby.  Daddy’s pee pee is excited
that you’re holding it.  Daddy’s pee pee is so happy.  Are
you happy that daddy’s pee pee is happy?”


“Yes, daddy.  I’m very happy.”  Timmy smiled up at him.


“You can make daddy’s pee pee even happier, Timmy?”


“How?”


“Remember just now when daddy licked your pee pee?”  The boy
nodded solemnly.  “Well, if you would lick daddy’s pee pee
it would be so happy.  Would you do that for daddy’s pee
pee?”  The boy nodded again, and lowered his dear little
face so that his lips were touching Bill’s big prick.  Then
his tongue appeared and he began washing Bill’s dick with
it.


“Oh, baby.  That feels sooo goood.  You’re making daddy’s
pee pee sooo happy.”


Timmy was delighted he was doing such a good job.  He would
do anything to make daddy’s pee pee happy.


“Put your mouth over the end of it, honey.”  The boy tried
to follow instructions, but the pee pee was so big and his
mouth was so small,  “That’s it.  Get the tip in and lick it
with your tongue.   Oh, that feels so nice.”   His hand
reached down and his fingers soothingly began to stroke
little Timmy’s bottom hole.  “That’s it, honey, you can get
a little more in now.  Nice and slow.  Nice and slow.
There. That’s it.  That wasn’t so hard was it?”


“Uh Uh,” Timmy mouthed around his cock.


“What a good boy.  What a very good boy.   Now lie down on
the bed here.  Daddy’s gonna just go get something.  I’ll be
right back.”  He quickly tiptoed to the bathroom and found a
tube of lubricant in the medicine chest, then he hurried
back to Timmy’s bedroom.  The boy was lying obediently on
the bed waiting for him.  He undressed himself, and sat down
at the edge of the bed.  Now he began to apply the lube to
the boy’s ass.  He was anointing the little hole with sacred
oil.
Timmy lay there passively accepting his daddy’s finger
strokes, liking his daddy’s finger strokes.  He spread his
legs a little so that daddy could get in deeper.  And daddy
did.  The finger was now spreading the tiny opening,
massaging it, opening it, massaging it, opening it.


“You know what, Timmy.  Daddy’s a little tired.  He’s gonna
lie down on the bed next to you.  I’ll take off all my
clothes, just like you.  So they won’t get crushed.”


Timmy liked seeing his daddy’s big naked body.  He didn’t
think he had ever seen it before.  Daddy’s big strong hairy
arms and legs, and his big warm furry chest.  And his
powerful smooth behind.  Daddy was very handsome.  And his
big pee pee was so hard and stiff in front of him.  He
almost looked funny.  Now daddy was lying down behind his
back, and Timmy could feel the big pee pee pressing into his
sit-down place.  He liked the feeling.  The warmth and
hardness of it.  And even though he was too little to get an
erection, he was getting excited.  Daddy spread some of the
tube stuff on his pee pee and moved it between Timmy’s back
cheeks.  His daddy was rocking him gently back and forth
now, kind of spinning him on the end of the big stick.
Daddy pressed and pressed.  Then he took it out and put on
more tube stuff, then he put it back, and little by little
it was going in.  Going into Timmy’s virgin behind.  “Oh, my
daddy is making me feel so good,” Timmy thought.



Bill spent the better part of two hours opening his son up,
slowly and carefully, so if he ever remembered anything, he
would always remember this as a beautiful experience, not
one of pain.  Finally he worked the whole thing in. He
didn’t see how such a big penis could ever fit inside such a
small body  (the penis was probably one quarter of Timmy’s
whole size)—but in it went and in it was.  Bill began
working his rod back and forth in Timmy’s passage.  It was
soooo tight.  So incredibly warm and tight.  “This must be
heaven,” he thought.


“Does it feel good, Timmy? “


“Yes, daddy.  It feels so good.  Don’t stop.  Please don’t
stop”


Bill tried to oblige the boy, but it was such a hot scene,
the culmination of years of wild fantasy, and it felt so
incredible that soon he felt the hot scum boiling in his
balls, getting ready to explode inside the little man.  And
then it came.  Blast. Blast. Blast.  “RRRAAARRR,” he
screamed as softly as he could, not wanting to wake Sue.
Heaven forbid that he would wake Sue.  The boy felt the hot
liquid gushing up his insides.  What a nice feeling.


“Did you pee, daddy?”


“No, baby.  That wasn’t pee.  That was daddy’s love juice.
Daddy’s juice means daddy loves his little guy.”


“Oh.  I’m happy, daddy.  I like feeling your juice.  Can I
have some more?”


“Daddy is tired, baby.  He has to get to sleep and so do
you.  He helped Timmy into his pajamas and tucked him under
the covers.  “Nighty night, sweetheart. See you in the
morning.  Daddy will try to give you some more love juice
tomorrow, honey.  Just be patient.”  He patted the child on
his curly blond head, and kissed his cheek.  Then he turned
out the light, closed the door and tiptoed down the hall to
his own bed and his sleeping wife.


The next night Sue went out to play some Bridge with the
girls. Bill did not waste the opportunity to give his boy
some more love juice.   They did it in Timmy’s room again
with both of them naked, the only different thing was that
tonight he didn’t get behind the boy.  He stayed in front
and raised the little legs high until Timmy’s bottom touched
his hard prick, and then he very slowly fed it in again. It
was so much easier tonight.  It didn’t take nearly as long
to get all inside the kid.  The boy looked into his daddy’s
deep brown eyes, and reached his arms down around his
daddy’s thighs to help him stay on top.  If Timmy could have
remembered the previous night, he would have known that the
feeling was just as wonderful this way as the other way.
Daddy was moving in and out, in and out and his pee pee was
massaging Timmy’s hungry bottom hole.  And just when it was
getting fantastic, the pee pee got very wide inside him, and
the love juice came out again.  The hot soothing love juice
coating his insides.  He vaguely remembered that the hot
liquid was love juice, though he didn’t know how he knew
that.  But who cared?  Could anything else ever be this
wonderful?


On Wednesday the twelfth, Susan drove Timmy over to Doctor
Velho’s for Timmy’s examination.


“Oh, here’s my little Timmy,” the tall good-looking doctor
said when he came out into the waiting room.  He said to
Susan,” I’m going to want to spend a little time with Timmy
today.  Do you have any shopping you’d like to do?”


“Yes.  As a matter of fact I would like to get over to the
stores.  But I might not be able to pick him up for two or
three hours.”


“That’s fine,” said Dr. Velho. “Timmy and I have a lot of
getting acquainted to do.  You just take your time.  I’ll
take care of Timmy.”  When Susan left, Dr. Velho took Timmy
into the examination room and locked the door. “Now you take
off your clothes, Timmy.  The Doctor is going to examine
you.  Do you remember when the Doctor examined you two weeks
ago?”


Timmy searched his memory trying to recall, but there was
nothing.  “No,” he said.


“That’s all right.  You don’t have to remember.  I’ll just
examine you.”  When Timmy was naked Doctor Velho lifted him
onto the table and after blowing on the stethoscope, he
listened to his heart and lungs.  Then he took his blood
pressure.  He weighed and measured the boy, marking
everything down.  Then he said, “Turn over on your tummy,
Timmy.  I’m going to take your temperature now.”  The boy
lay on the table bumbum up.  The doctor greased the
thermometer and slipped it in.  After the thermometer came
out, the doctor’s finger went in.  It was moving around top
to bottom, right to left, in and out.  “How does that feel,
Timmy?” he asked.


“Okay,” the boy answered.


He kept moving first his finger, and then his fingers in
there for a long time.  “You know, Timmy,” he said.  “The
glass thermometer isn’t very accurate.  I think we need
something better to take your temperature with.”


“What’s that?” Timmy asked innocently.


“Well I have my own personal thermometer on my very own
body.  I can use that.  Okay?”


“Okay,” Timmy answered.  The doctor gave a sigh of relief.
This was going to be even easier than he had anticipated.
“You don’t mind that the doctor has to get naked to take
your temperature, do you?”


“No,” said Timmy.


“Oh, darn it. Doctor’s thermometer isn’t hard enough yet to
go inside your little behind.” He came to the side of the
table so that Timmy’s mouth was near his big thick floppy
warm penis.  He moved the boys face till his tool was
against Timmy’s cheek.  “Doctor needs you to put the big
thermometer in your mouth and suck on it.  That way it’ll
get nice and hard, the way we need it.” Timmy lifted his
face and let the doctor guide his mouth onto the big soft
lump, which was now becoming a very large thick stick.
Timmy sucked and sucked, feeling it get very stiff in his
gaping jaw.  The Doctor was moaning, as he thrust it in and
out.  “That’s it, son.  Suck that big thermometer.”  After
about fifteen minutes the Doctor withdrew the thermometer.
The oral reading had not been good enough, so the Doctor
decided to get a more accurate rectal reading.


He turned Timmy back over on his tummy, and climbed on the
table, looming directly over the boy.   He spread some of
the grease all over the big thermometer, and started feeding
it into the boy’s hole.  It was going in so easily.  Too
easily.  “Someone’s beaten me to the punch,” the Doctor
thought, and sighed in resignation.  He had really wanted a
virgin asshole, but still this was awfully nice.  He worked
his cock in and out of the small body under his own on the
examination table.  He flexed his ass cheeks, as he worked
his medical instrument inside the aperture.  It was really
tight enough.  Any tighter might have been too much.
Anything tighter would have choked off the blood supply
flooding into his ten incher.  No. This was a perfect poke.
Definitely a perfect poke.


He plowed mercilessly into Timmy who didn’t remember ever
having done this before even though his daddy had been
plugging him every day for the last two weeks.  But it felt
very good.  Doctor Velho was a really good doctor.  His
treatment was just what Timmy needed.  He didn’t want it
ever to stop.  Unfortunately after an hour, the doctor just
couldn’t hold off any longer and he shot his big wad way
down inside Timmy’s rectum. After catching his breath, the
doctor got them both cleaned and dressed and had half an
hour to spare before Sue got back.  He was forced to read
the child ‘Little Red Riding Hood’ to keep him amused.


Sue really wanted some time to herself to try on the new
dresses she had bought, so she sent Timmy outside to play.
Timmy happily ran down the street to Mandy’s house.  He
remembered where that was.


When he got there, he rang the bell. Mandy opened the door
and let him in. She put her finger to her mouth and said,
“Sshh.  My daddy’s sleeping.  He worked very late last
night, so he’s sleeping today.  My mommy told me I had to be
quiet before she went to work.”  They went into the living
room, and Mandy showed Timmy how to play house.  He was the
daddy, and she was the mommy and the big doll with the red
hair who made sissy was the baby.  They played for a half
hour, and just when Mandy was trying to decide whether or
not she was going to divorce Timmy, Hank Casey walked into
the living room.  “Who’s here?” he asked, rubbing the sleep
from his eyes.   “Oh, it’s Timmy.” He ran his hands through
the boy’s thick blond hair.  “How ya doing, champ?” he
asked.


“Fine,” Timmy said.


Hank beamed fondly on the boy.  “What a nice kid,” he
thought.  And then he remembered Timmy wasn’t really a kid.
He was as old as an adult even though he wasn’t quite an
adult.  But in this state and country he was legally
considered to be an adult.  Hank mulled over this
interesting thought.  He had always enjoyed looking at
younger citizens, but never dared go beyond that.  Now here
was a little boy was wasn’t a little boy.  What an
interesting conundrum.


If he fucked the kid, as he was thinking of doing, he might
be morally on shaky ground, but legally his ground would be
as solid as the Rock of Gibraltar.  He could fuck this
little kid’s ass and the authorities couldn’t touch him.
Age -wise the kid was a grown-up.  The more he thought about
fucking Timmy the more he wanted to.


“Mandy.  You go out in the street and play awhile.  Daddy
and Timmy want to have a little talk, man to man.  Right,
Timmy?” he fluffed the kid’s hair again.


“Right,” said Timmy happily.  “Man to man.”


“I’ll see you later, Timmy,” Mandy said sadly as she went
out the front door.  She had really enjoyed playing house
and wanted to continue.


When she had gone, Hank walked over and locked the door.
Just to be safe.
“Come on, Timmy,” he said “Let’s go up to the bedroom.”  He
and Timmy got up on the bed, and he put his arm around Timmy
as he told him the story of ‘Goldilocks and the Three
Bears’.  As he was storytelling, he let his hand wander down
into Timmy’s pants.  He began stroking the kid’s little soft
penis, which wasn’t getting any harder. Maybe he wasn’t
digging it. Or maybe he just didn’t get hard.   Hank
continued, and as he raised Timmy onto his lap he let his
hand wander over Timmy’s backside.  He felt the hot hard
bubbles of the kid’s ass cheeks, and then his finger strayed
between, and touched the little hole, and damned if it
didn’t slip right in all the way.  And it was wet in there.
Wet and slimey. Hank began to finger the hole.  “Timmy,” he
asked.  “Did someone put something in your behind?”


“The doctor took my temperature,” he remembered.  It had
just been a little while ago.


“I see.  And what kind of thermometer did the doctor use?”


“It was his own thermometer. “  Timmy frowned trying to
puzzle it out.  “I think it was his pee pee.”


“You don’t say,” Hank nodded and smiled.  “Well a pee pee is
certainly the best way to take someone’s temperature.  Would
you like me to check it for you again?”


“Okay,” said Timmy happily.  He liked having his temperature
taken.


“Get undressed, Timmy,” Mr. Casey said beginning to strip
off his own pajamas.  Soon the two of them were naked on the
bed.  Hank folded Timmy in his arms and began deep kissing
him, sticking his thick tongue into Timmy’s mouth.  Timmy
sucked on the man’s tongue.  He liked it.  Then Mandy’s
father crawled higher on the bed, standing on his knees and
raised Timmy’s mouth to his stiff cock.



“Suck on that, Timmy.  That’s a big cherry lollipop.   Oh,
yeah. That’s it, kid.  You really know how to make a guy
feel good.  Suck it. No teeth now.”  He pulled the kid’s
head down on his dick until it hit the very back of the
kid’s throat.  But he didn’t want to cum just yet.  He
worked his cock in and out of the kid’s mouth, and then
withdrew it, seeing strings of saliva falling from his
lolly.




“Okay, Timmy.  Now I’m gonna fuck you.  Do you know what a
fuck is?”



“No.  What is it?”


“It’s a rude word for taking your temperature.”  He turned
the boy over and plunged into the slick hole, without any
further lubrication.  Since this was his second time today,
Timmy was getting the hang of it.  He started working his
little ass up and down milking the big cock that was
violating him.  He squeezed his little rectal muscles around
the flesh tube as hard as he could, trying to squeeze the
hot liquid out of the tube and into his ass.  He remembered
the doctor’s hot juice fondly and wanted more.


Hank was delirious with joy.  The kid was a real pro.  A
thousand dollar hooker couldn’t have done such a good job on
his prick.  He fucked as Timmy’s little behind hungrily
sucked at him.  He fucked and felt the juices rising.
“Ooohhh,  Oooooooohhhhh,
Ooooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.
AAAAAAGGGGGGHHHHHH,” he screamed as the hot milk shot down
his itchy tube into the narrow squeezing asshole beneath
him.  “What a cum!  What a great cum!”  He thought.  His
face was sweating from the totality of the experience.  He
grabbed his pajama bottoms and wiped his forehead before
putting them back on.   Then he helped Timmy get dressed
before unlocking the door and sending the boy out into the
street to play with Mandy.  He went back upstairs,
whistling.  He felt really great. No more headache.  No more
tension.  Thank god for Juventudatude.


When Timmy was finished playing he went home.  Mommy was in
the kitchen making dinner, and just then he heard daddy’s
car in the driveway.  His beloved daddy was coming home from
work.  After dinner mommy did the dishes quickly because she
had another Bridge game, and Timmy was left at home with
just his wonderful daddy.


Bill led the boy upstairs to resume their adventures.  He
undressed the boy, then himself and they lay down on the bed
together.   Bill’s hands lovingly strayed over his precious
angel’s body.  When he got to Timmy’s asshole, his finger
plunged in without him hardly even pressing.  And it was wet
in there.  Wet and slimey.


“Timmy,” Bill asked cautiously.  “Did anybody put anything
in your behind today?”


“Well first the Doctor took my temperature,” he happily
related.  “I think he took it with his pee pee thermometer.
And then,” he struggled to remember. “”Oh yeah, and then Mr.
Casey took my temperature again with his pee pee.”


Bill sat for a moment, trying to process this information.
“When they took your temperature, did you like it?”


“Oh, yes, daddy.  I loved it.”


“Would you like me to take your temperature with my
thermometer?”


“Oh, please, daddy, please please.” The boy was practically
jumping up and down on the bed in anticipation, so of
course, Bill took his temperature.  And the temperature was
rising as the thermometer was rising and falling. Bill was
thinking how nice it would be for the little guy to have
three hot thermometers one after the other.  The Doctor’s
and Hanks, and his own big monster.  It would be fun seeing
little Timmy getting this much needed treatment from two
other handsome big guys.  Maybe they’d all fool around
together in a free for all.  That sounded exciting.   His
hips rose and fell, slamming against the clasping bubbles,
as his mind coped with the problem of arranging a grand
medical convention.  Yes. Between the three of them, they
could blast a lot of medicine into his angel’s luscious
behind.


Clearly his precious angel loved getting dicked.  More than
anything else in the world.  And Bill decided there and then
to spend the rest of his days making sure the little guy
would get the biggest and best dicks in the world as often
as possible from this day forward.