Bryce, Brian, and Brady

I’d never touch my son. I’m not sure why - I’ve always been attracted to younger boys, ever since I went through puberty. And the idea of playing with my offspring turns me on in theory, but when I think about actually doing something to my son - ugh. No.

However, I have been steadily making my way through my son’s classmates over the past 13 years. He goes to one of those schools that runs all the way from pre-school up to senior year in high school, with the same handful of kids pretty much from start to finish, not counting those who moved away. (On that note, I was very fortunate that my son always told me about when his classmates were moving away - such a sensitive kid, always so sad about that. Of course, I saw it as a happy thing - it meant I had every excuse to move quickly on that kid before he left.)

I remember the first time I really saw his classmates, way back at their very first Holiday Pageant. They were so damn cute - almost all of them looked totally fuckable. There were a few I wasn’t really that into, but after a while, it sort of became like a trophy thing. Though in this case, the trophies were a pair of undies from each boy. I actually repurposed those undies and would slip them into my son’s drawers, though I don’t think he ever figured that out.

He did figure out something was going on pretty quickly though. To be honest, I’m not entirely sure how he figured it out. Maybe one of my little fuck buddies at school brought it up. Maybe it was the amount of times he woke up to the sound of me hustling one of his little buddies out the door in a hurry before the school bus started making its rounds. Maybe it was the fact that when he had playdates over at the house, he’d end up spending a good few hours in his room, alone. Maybe it was the time he walked in on me in his childhood bed nailing Hayden, the new boy, to the mattress. Shame - that boy never reappeared after that. Must have switched schools or something.

In any event, we’ve had several good, long chats about it, and we’re in a good place. He’s not exactly happy that every boy in his class is swinging on my dick, but he has accepted it. He felt a lot better when I promised never to “start” anything with his three best buddies, Bryce, Bryan, and Brady.

That’s because I didn’t have to start anything with them. Bryce, Bryan and Brady, the three B’s, the BareBackBoys, came on to me. In fact, they’ve each told me on separate occasions that the only reason they hang out with my son is to get a crack at my giant cock, floppy nuts, hairy ass hole, and most of all, my dick nectar.

But my son doesn’t have to know everything.