Part 3

Date: Mon, 16 Sep 2019 16:23:17 +1000 From: Taylor Foxx [email protected] Subject: Chapter 3 - Piglet - Gay Incest

Hello men! Now that I've revived this story, I'm obsessed with it and can't stop writing it. I hope you're enjoying it.

Fair warning, this story involves sex acts between adult men and younger boys. If that's not your thing, turn back now. You won't like this story. You definitely won't like it if you are disgusted by the idea of little boys slurping down loads of semen like it was lemonade. You'll hate it if you are reviled by a father investigating his son's sperm addiction with disgust and horror. You shouldn't read this if you don't want to read about a little boy searching for cock in an insatiable quest to taste ball juice.

Now that you've been warned, read on, if you dare. And please, get in touch. I make lots of announcements on my Twitter, and always love to hear from horny fans.

Twitter: @TaylorFoxxWorld KIK: TaylorFoxxAuthor Email: [email protected] Happy reading!

Piglet Chapter 3

At first, Al thought it was an animal. He rubbed his eyes and stared again into the darkness on the side of the road ahead, just out of reach of his headlights. Was it a fox? No, too big. A dog? Maybe.

Al's headlights finally caught up with the figure, and he let out a gasp. The high-beams illuminated a reflective strip on a backpack. But the backpack was far too low to the ground.

It wasn't an animal. It was a little kid.

"Goodness," all muttered to himself, his heart suddenly racing. His eyes darted to the little green numbers on the radio console next to him. 12:34am. What the hell? What was a little kid doing out here all alone on the side of the highway at midnight?

Slowly, Al pulled his RV over to the side of the road. He was just behind the kid, but he didn't want to stop too quickly. He didn't want to wake up his wife or the baby, who were fast asleep in the bedroom at the back of the trailer. They needed rest after the long road trip they'd been on.

Damn, Al thought to himself. They were less than an hour from home, and he'd been dreaming of their big bed back at home. He'd hoped the missus would be up for a little bit of late-night stress relief once they got there and the kid was asleep. She'd probably say no, like always, but a man could dream...

But there was no way he could just pass by this kid walking all alone. He was a Christian man with Christian values. He'd never forgive himself. So finally, he slowed to a stop, and hopped out of the car to meet the boy, who'd stopped and turned, squinting into the headlights.

The kid was even smaller than he'd thought. How had he gotten here? This was so dangerous.

"Hello," the man said. "What are you doing out here? Are you all alone?"

The boy stared up at him, a blank expression on his small face. He didn't say anything.

"Are you ok? Are you hurt? Do you need help?"

The boy stared back at him, and Al began to wonder if the kid was deaf. But finally, the boy squeaked out, "I'm running away."

"Running away... from what?" Al asked.

"My Daddy!" the boy said, staring at the man. He looked tired, poor kid. At least he wasn't running away from a killer or something. But how had this kid gotten out here? What kind of father let his boy just run away in the middle of the night?

"I see," the man said. "Well, it's pretty late for a little boy like you do be out here alone. Where are you headed?" Al said gently. He desperately wanted to grab the kid, put him in his vehicle, make sure he wasn't hurt and get him somewhere safe. But he knew being too aggressive would scare the kid away.

The boy just shrugged in response.

"Well, you're not very close to anywhere. Why don't you let me give you a ride?"

The boy took a cautious step backward. All fingered his phone in his pocket, ready to call 911 if the kid started to freak out.

"My daddy says not to take rides from stranger," the kid said.

"Well, yes, that's probably good advice. But... I'm a dad too. Did you know that?" Al said, trying to give his friendliest smile. "My son's asleep in the back of the RV right now."

The kid looked at him with a puzzled look on his face. If Al had to guess, this kid wasn't the brightest bulb in the box. He felt a pang of guilt, knowing the technique he was using to get this kid to trust him was exactly the same some sick predator might use. But he wasn't a sick predator. He just wanted to get this kid to safety before someone actually dangerous came along.

"Really?" the boy said finally. "You have a son like me?"

"I do," Al said, nodding. "And if you want, you can come ride with us, and I'll get you somewhere safe."

"You're not gonna take me back to my daddy, are you?" the boy said, still squinting in the light.

"No, I promise," Al said. "There's a place not far from here, and I'll take you there and there might be some people who could help you." He stopped short of saying that this was a police station. He thought that might freak the kid out.

"Well..." the boy said, then rubbed his eyes. "My feet are kinda tired."

"I bet they are. Why don't you come rest in my RV, and you can tell me what brought you out here."

The boy looked around for a moment, then shrugged again and started walking toward Al. The man let out a sigh of relief, knowing he was going to be able to rescue this kid. His bed would have to wait.

Once the boy reached him, he took the kid's hand and walked him over to the passenger seat.

"You just need to be quiet, ok? My son and wife are sleeping and I don't want to wake them up."

"I can be quite!" the boy said in a loud whisper that almost made Al laugh. He put his finger to his lips, then helped the boy buckled up and shut the door.

They were back on the road in moments. Al drew the thin divider across the driver seat and passenger seat to close out the noise. The last thing he needed was his wife waking up to find some strange little boy in the seat. He'd just get this kid to the police station first, and not worry her about it until then.

"So you wanna tell me why you ran away?" the man said as they cruised through the darkness.

"Cause my daddy's mean!" the boy said.

"Is he? How so?" Al said.

"He won't feed me!" the boy whined.

Al's heart stung. This poor kid. Some trashy dad probably neglected the kid and was starving him. Maybe too high on drugs to feed the poor little guy. If it wasn't so complicated, he'd want to adopt the kid.

I tried to extract some more information out of the boy, but the kid grew quiet and just stared out the window. So Al eventually gave up and focused on finding his exit.

He had just found it when suddenly the kid spoke up again.

"I gotta go pee," the kid said.

Al looked over at him. "We're almost there."

"I gotta go now!" the kid said loudly. Al thought he could hear stirring in the back.

"Now? You can't hold it?"

"Ah-ah," the kid said. "I gotta go really bad."

Dang, Al thought to himself. This night was never going to end.

Fortunately their exit was just here, and he knew there was a rest stop just off the side of the ramp. They could stop there quickly, so the kid wouldn't wet himself, and then they could just drive another 10 minutes to the station. The last thing he wanted to do was show up with some sopping wet, sobbing kid in the middle of the night at the police station....

The rest stop looked mostly abandoned, thankfully. This could be quick. Come to think of it, Al had to piss pretty bad himself. So once parked, he went around and helped the kid out of the high seat of the RV, then held his hand to lead him to the squat little building where the bathrooms were.

The musty smell of the bathroom and its bright fluorescent lights assaulted Al as they stepped inside. It reeked, but that was to be expected of a scuzzy truck stop like this one.

It wasn't a very big bathroom--just two urinals next to a dingy sink, and two stalls. He felt the tiny boy's hand leave his as the kid made his way over to the smaller of the two stalls. He watched for a moment as the boy pulled down his pants, letting his tiny little butt hang out in the night air. Al smiled. His own son did the same thing--it took little boys a while before they learned that they didn't need to drop their pants just to pee.

Al turned toward the urinal closest to the sinks and unzipped his fly, then hauled out his soft meat. As soon as it was out, he started pissing in a heavy stream, and he let his head back at the relief. He had to go worse than he thought.

He was still pissing when he heard the toilet flush behind him, then the shuffling sound of the boys small steps as he made his way to the sink. He pushed his bladder, trying to piss faster, but it just kept coming.

"Just wait by the door," he said, not looking over at the kid. He didn't want to seem like a pervert. "Inside. Don't go out just yet. I'm almost finished."

He waited for the kid's response, and when he heard none, he glanced sideways to see what the kid could be doing.

What in the world...? The boy was staring at him. No, not staring at him. The kid was obviously staring at his cock in his hand.

"Go wait by the door!" Al said more forcefully, trying to will himself to stop pissing.

But the kid didn't respond. No, much to Al's horror, he instead stepped towards him.

"Wow..." the boy said. "You have a big one."

Al grunted at this, finally feeling the end of his piss stream coming. It couldn't come fast enough. This was beyond weird. It was true, he did have a big one. He was a shower, not a grower, and the fat, soft cock in his fist was a testament to that.

"It's not polite to stare. Go wait by the door. NOW!"

But the little brat ignored him and took a step closer to the man. And then the worst thing possible could happen. With an almost inhuman speed, the little boy reached out and grabbed Al's cock by its base.

"Hey!" Al cried out, stepping back. But the boy's iron grip stayed on his cock, and the little kid stepped forward to stay clamped on. "Let go! That's not right!"

"It's ok," the little boy said. "My daddy' showed me..."

"Enough!!" Al shouted, and grabbed the kid's arm, yanking it from his member. "I don't know what your daddy taught you, but that's not ok!"

He stuffed himself back into his jeans. He looked back to the boy once he was tucked away just in time to see the boy's face crumple, and then he started to wail.

"Hey! Hey... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell..." Al said, putting his hand on the boy's shoulder. It did nothing to quiet the kid. "Stop crying, it's ok."

This only seemed to make the boy cry louder. Afraid his wife might wake up, he kneeled down to look the boy in the face.

"Why are you crying?" he said forcefully, hoping his tone might stop the boy's sobs. "Tell me what's wrong."

"N-n-no-one will let me... sob sob eat!"

"Eat? Eat what?" the man said, trying to meet the boy's bloodshot eyes.

"The stuff! The stuff that comes out of..." the boy's sad eyes looked down toward the ground.

"Out of what?"

The boy lifted his hand, his tiny index finger extended. "Out of there! Your penis!"

Oh no... Al said. This was worse than he thought. This kid's dad hadn't starved him--he'd been abusing the kid. What should he do now? He couldn't take this sobbing kid back to the RV... and the kid wouldn't shut up.

He rose to his feet, running his hands through his hair. This was seriously bad news. He just wanted to be back in his bed.

"I just... want sob sob to eat it!" the kid said.

What the heck? What was this kid saying?

"It-it- tastes so g-g-goooooood!" the boy sobbed even louder.

"Stop talking like that!" the man said. "That's not right. Your daddy wasn't right to teach you that."

"H-he-he didn't!" the boy said. "He won't l-l-l-et me either!!"

"What do you mean, he won't let you? Where did you even learn... hey!"

Suddenly, the boy's sobs had stopped, and the kid had leaped for him. The kid was fumbling at his fly. Al jumped backward, and his foot stepped in something wet. It slipped out from under him, and suddenly he was falling. Al heard his teeth clatter as his head hit something hard--the sink. His vision filled with stars, and then everything went black.

Al let out a groan. He was dreaming. Everything was wet. His back was wet, his head, his feet. He was in bed. His wife was with him. She was... tugging at him. They'd made it home and they were in bed, and his dream had come true. His wife was actually going to get him off for once... and it felt amazing.

Al kept his eyes closed as he enjoyed the feeling of his wife's skilled hands on his member. When was the last time she had stroked him like this? Certainly not before the baby...

Al opened his eyes and immediately shut them again. The lights were so bright. Far too bright for their bedroom...

Where was he?

Still keeping his eyes closed, he struggled to fight through the swimming feeling in his head. His head--he'd hit his head. His head wasn't wet, it was cold. He was lying on the floor, not on a bed. But the floor of where? Tiled... the bathroom.

Al shot up, almost crying out. He blinked at his surroundings. Yes, the bathroom. The roadside rest stop. The little boy... oh god.

"NO!" Al cried out as he looked down. What he saw in front of him was by far the most horrific scene he'd ever witnessed.

His pants were down--somehow the kid had gotten them off and around his knees. The kid was sitting on his thighs, straddling him. And in the kid's hands was his own tower of dad cock, erect, throbbing.

Perhaps it was because of his mild concussion, but for a moment, Al wasn't able to focus on the fact that it was this strange little boy who was working him over. Instead, he could only stare at his own cock. He'd never seen it before.

Al was always big down there, especially when he was hard. But not like this. It could have been that the little hands deftly working his cock shaft and head were so small, but he could swear his cock was bigger than it ever had been by several inches. He could actually see his thick veins throbbing. He was cut, and used to seeing his cock head an angry red color when he was really horning. But now the helmet of his cock was purple with blood as it throbbed almost painfully. And the precum, oh lord the precum. Al was a big shooter, but his wife always complained about his inability to lube himself up before he slipped into her. But this kid had somehow coaxed what seemed like a lifetime supply of precum out of his cock in just a few minutes. The clear slime was everywhere--his shaft glistened in the harsh light, as did the boy's tiny little hands.

"Y-you have to stop!" Al said. "Let go of me right now, young man! OOOoooh!" Al tried to stifle his moan as the boy's hand moved up to his sensitive head.

"Shhhh," the kid said, looking up at him. Al felt real terror wash through him as he met the boy's eyes. Before, on the side of the road, the kid had looked dumb and sheepish and scared. But now, the boy's eyes held an unmistakable evil. The kid knew exactly what he was doing.

"You wouldn't want me to cry again, would you?" the boy said, smiling slightly.

"You're a very... oh... oh lordy... very bad boy! Stop!"

But the boy didn't stop. Inestead, he did something even worse. Al let out a low groan as the kid slowly leaned forward, his mouth open. And then he watched his obscenely purple head disappear into the little boy's mouth.

"Oh god, noooo," Al said, trying not to think of all the sins he was committing. No one but his wife had ever touched his cock, and here he was getting a head-job from some strange little demon he'd picked up out of the kindness of his heart.

But there was no more protesting. Al was still too dizzy to move, and besides... the boy's mouth felt like an iron grip. The kid still worked his shaft as he sucked hungrily on Al's head, still working the shaft.

"You better stop that..." Al said, feeling his balls start to churn. "That's... oh goodness... oh that right there... NO! Stop!"

But the boy didn't stop. He just kept suckingon the head of Al's cock like a lollipop as he stroked and stroked.

"Stop! You don't know what... what will... OH NO!" Al said. He couldn't stop himself. Lurching forward and kicking his legs out, Al felt his balls rise up again, and then it happened.

The stars in his vision returned as his orgasm finally arrived. He kicked his legs wildly as a full-body orgasm the likes of which he'd never experienced with his wife overtook him. He could feel the cum spurting up his shaft, and sure enough, the boy started to snort as his hungry little mouth was flooded with straight Christian daddy sperm.

The boy held on for dear life as Al road out his orgasm, but the boy's oral clamp around his cock didn't let up. Even still, some of his sperm escaped. He watched in horror as the boy snort-coughed, a few obscene globs of his sperm escaping the boy's lips and dribbling down his throbbing shaft.

Al almost passed out again as his orgasm subsided. But still, the boy kept going. He could vaguely feel the boy's little tongue working up and down his shaft, slurping up the runaway sperm.

It was by far the most intense and long-lasting orgasm of Al's life, more than his wife had ever given him by a lot. As his head swam back into reality, he lifted his head and once again was greeted with the terrible site of the tiny boy suckling his extremely sensitive head.

Al shuffled, pushing his feet flat against the tiled floor to push himself up. But as soon as he put weight on his knees, they collapsed under him, as if they were made of jell-o. With no purchase on the tiled floor, he could only lay there helpless as the cock demon he'd picked up stay latched on, torturing his sensitive head.

"Please..." he moaned, "No more. It's sensitive!"

The kid didn't listen. Al laid back again, wondering what he'd done to deserve this. He was a good man. He was just trying to help. Why had God sent him this hungry little whore out of nowhere? He just wanted to be back in his house again, alone, with his wife, where he could sleep off this nightmare.

But the nightmare didn't end there for poor Al. Because after a few minutes, he felt the horrible feeling of his cock going turgid again. For most of his life, Al had been a "one and done" kind of guy. Shooting a load left him feeling drained and relaxed, and often he could go a few days without needing his next orgasm. He could only think of one or two times when he'd had two orgasms in less than an hour.

But Al had never had someone dig so deeply and hungrily into his piss slit, and it was clearly working wonders on his cock. In less than two minutes, his cock was hard again. Not the kind of careless, semi-hardness he'd experienced during his other multiple-orgasm experience. His cock was at least as hard, if not harder than it had been when the kid had first started sucking him.

"Nooo, no more. I don't want to!" he cried out, trying to get the boy's attention. It was useless. The boy only looked up at him, and his wide eyes as he sucked clearly said one word: More.

More was what the kid got. Soon, Al felt his daddy balls rear up one more time, and soon his cock was throbbing again, preparing to shoot another sizable (if not quite as insanely huge load).

But Al was ready for it. He wasn't going to let this one mobilize him. With his final ounce of strength and sanity before his orgasm took over, he reached down and pulled his cock out of the kid's mouth with a loud, wet POP.

"Hey! NO!" the boy protested, right before he was splattered with the first creamy shot of Al's second orgasm.

The child chased the cock head around, trying to get it back into his mouth, but this proved a difficult task. Al only heald his cock loosely by the base, letting it spray wildly like a firehose. He watched in amazement and horror at the size of this second orgasm. He could literally hear the sound of his heavy, wet ball-juice droplets splattering on the tiles.

This one, fortunately, didn't last as long. By the time he was done, his head was still swimming, but he forced himself to rise to his knees. Fortunately, the kid was distracted. He was still protesting in anger, but he'd let go of Al's cock. Since Al was no longer actively shooting, the boy was no longer interested in the dick. Instead, he was laser-focused on the semen now settling into the grout of the disgusting public restroom floor.

"Dear god..." Al muttered as he watched the boy on all fours, face down, little tongue out without hesitation. He felt nearly sick as he watched the kid snorting, gobbling up any cum he could find.

"You're a freak!" Al said as he got to his knees and began stuffing his cock back into his pants. The boy clearly didn't hear him. He just kept licking the vile tiles.

Al saw his moment to escape and was quickly back in the night air. His mind was racing as he climbed back into his RV. His balls ached, feeling more empty than they ever had in his life. And yet, even has he pulled back onto the highway, he couldn't stop thinking of the little boy so clearly hungry for cum. He'd been raped, violated by someone the same age as his own son. It was a day that would change his life forever, but that's a different story.

We're here to talk about Piglet, who finally finished up his cum-hunt in the bathroom. He came out of his own trance, looking up and for the first time realizing that he was indeed out on his own. Now that he'd had a couple creamy loads, he was feeling more relaxed, less zombie. And suddenly scared.

Where was he? He had no idea. He'd just picked a direction and started walking, and he couldn't remember which way Al had driven him. He'd never been to this rest stop, and now he was all alone. Or so he thought...

Hussein was driving slowly on the shoulder of the highway, using

his headlights to search in the darkness. His heart was still pounding, and he was sure this was a fruitless effort. He'd been driving for over an hour now, searching for his son with not a single sign of the kid. How far could the boy have gotten?

He'd driven around his own neighborhood, combing the silent

streets. He was terrified of a nosy night-owl neighbor spotting him, confronting him. What would he say? My son ran away in search of some cum to drink. See, I showed him a porno of myself, and it didn't go quite as expected...

"You fucking idiot," he muttered, admonishing himself. He had to be

the worst father on the planet. Being a single dad was no walk in the park for anyone, but most dad's had better control over their own boys.

There was really only one place for the kid to go, assuming he'd

stuck to the roads and not ended up in someone's house or a building... or worse... What if someone found him? Snatched him? Some man who...

Hussein shook his head. He couldn't think that way. Not

yet. Panicking now would be pointless.

Not knowing what else to do, he took the only option he could

imagine--the ramp onto the highway. He prayed the boy hadn't ended up here. It was so dark, and cars rushed by every few minutes at top speed.

He didn't have to go far before he noticed something in the dirt on

the side of the road. Small, and pink, and... fuzzy?

He slowed his car to a stop and got out. As he approached the item,

his heart sank. He was overwhelmed with emotion as he picked it up. He almost felt like crying, something he hadn't done in years, but he wasn't sure if they would be tears of joy or anguish.

It was unmistakable. It was a small plush pig, bright pink, with a

cartoonish face and a fat little body. Out of the top of the pig's head was a small chain, broken. He knew this little creature so well, yet he couldn't remember when he'd bought it for the boy. Probably some point when he was throwing a tantrum in the store. He often bought the kid a toy to keep him quiet.

This stuffed-piglet keychain had hung from the back of the boy's

backpack for years now.

So the boy had been here. It was dumb luck that he had chosen the highway. Or maybe some innate sense in him, being his father. Either way, at least he knew his boy had made it this far before...

Oh God. Looking down in the dirk, Hussein saw two sets of footprints. Small ones that had to be his son's and...gulp. Yep. Those were definitely men's footprints. Too big for a woman or child. Which means his son had met a stranger. An adult male stranger.

Hussein put his face in his hands, trying to banish the images from his mind. His brain flashed man after man, of all shapes and sizes, who might be spending time with his little boy right now. His son could be hurt, or far, far worse. He had to save him.

He followed the tracks until he found another clue--an oil stain. Whoever had pulled over to talk to his boy also had a leaky undercarriage. Which meant he now had a trail to follow.

Grubber hadn't expected tonight to be so exciting. He was expecting another boring night in his normal spot, curled up on his "king-sized" flattened cardboard box behind the tall bushes. He was thankful it was still a warm night, but he knew that any kind of excitement was pretty rare.

Usually he was thankful for that. In Grubber's perspective, no

action was good. He'd been through enough. He had the scars to prove it. And more. Sure, he missed the days when the rest stop had been a hot bed for late-night sex. Those years were over, though, since the neighborhood around here had cleaned up most of the riff raff. But not Grubber. He'd been on the streets too long to get swept up like that. Grubber know how to play the game.

Besides, he wasn't exactly the type of guy who got lucky every day,

even when there were men at the rest stop. Even desperate men were turned off by him these days. He wasn't a spring chicken anymore, and he knew he looked scary with his big reddish beard, his torn and dirty jeans, his filthy bare feet. Lately he'd taken to wearing a ripped and torn green army jacket he found in the dumpster, and nothing underneath, showing off his furry and tattooed, tanned skin. At least he was still skinny--living on the streets could do that to a man.

This night wasn't boring at all, though. In fact, Grubber had never

been more excited in his pathetic life. He'd seen the whole thing from his secret spot. In the back of the men's room, Grubber had discovered years ago a brick was loose. Whenever he thought there might be hot action to watch, he would sneak up and pull out the brick, staring in to get a free show. It was the closest thing he could get to watching porn, since he didn't have a phone or computer (or a house for that matter).

He'd seen everything. The man and the little boy at the urinal. The

man falling. The little boy hurriedly pulling out the man's cock, sucking the man back to life, swallowing his cum not once but twice. He watched the boy greedily lap at the disgusting floor of the bathroom, then squat there alone, tears in his eyes as he came back to his senses.

He was massaging his own boner through his jeans, not wanting to

pull it out for fear of cumming at the hot scene. But he knew now was his chance, and he had to take it.

"Hey, little boy."

The boy's veins filled with ice at the sound of the deep, gravelly

voice. He couldn't see where it was coming from, but it scared him. It sounded like the boogie man.

"Over here. In the wall."

The kid was shaking, almost too afraid to turn around. But slowly

he spun, wiping tears from the eyes. He scanned the wall before he saw it. One of the bricks was missing, and all he could see through it was two wet, red lips in a big, bushy beard.

"It's ok, kid. I'm not gonna hurt you."

"Wh-wh-who are you?" the kid squeaked, slowly backing away from the

wall where the man's mouth had appeared.

"My name's Grubber. I live here," the man said.

"You live... here? In the bathroom?"

"Well, sorta. I live behind the bathroom. I can show you if you

want..."

The boy took another step back. "I don't think so. My daddy told me

not to talk to strangers."

"But I told you my name. Grubber."

"Grubber is a silly name," the boy said cautiously.

Grubber just grunted at this comment. "Why don't you come around

where I can talk to you better? Behind the bathroom."

"I... I don't know..." the boy said, looking around. This was

starting to feel really scary.

"Well... I guess you don't want any cum then, do you?" the mouth

said.

The kid stared blankly, blinking in the light. Had the man said

cum? He felt his tummy rumble.

"Yeah, you like the sound of that, don't you, little guy? You want

some more hot cum? I can give you some if you come out here. Don't be scared. I know you want it."

The boy didn't say anything, but after a moment of contemplation,

he gathered up his backpack and wandered out the door. In a moment, he appeared around the corner, now face to face with the man who had been talking to him.

Run! the boy thought when he saw the tall, scary-looking man

grinning at him. The adult had scary eyes, and the way his crooked, yellow smile showed through his bushy beard made the kid's heart stop. But he couldn't move his feet, and before he knew it, the man had closed the gap behind him and placed a firm hand on his shoulder.

"You don't have to be scared. I'm gonna help you out. Just come

with me."

The boy was too scared to say anything, but the man's firm grip

made it impossible for him to resist following the man. His tiny heart was pounding out of his chest as they walked away from the bathroom and toward a nearly pitch black semi-wooded area a few yards away.

The man led the small boy through the bushes and into a clearing,

where the kid finally got a look at the man's "home." It consisted of a shopping cart filled with old clothes and boxes. That cart held up a blue tarp like a tent, over a dirty flattened piece of cardboard. Aside from some food wrappers and other trash, there wasn't anything else.

"This is where you live?" the boy said, a disgusted tone in his

voice.

"That's right," the man said with an angry tone. "I suppose you're

used to something a bit nicer at your house?"

"Uh, yeah," the child said. "My house has beds and a kitchen and

stuff."

"Well, we can't all be as lucky as you. Now have a seat," the man

said, pushing the child forward so that the boy landed on his knees on the cardboard. Soon the man joined him, standing over the boy.

"So you wanna tell me what was going on back there?" the man said,

scratching at his chest.

"I was just... having some fun..." the boy stammered.

"Is that what you call fun? Drinking a man's sperm?"

The boy shrugged. "I think I wanna go home," he said.

"Well, you're a long way from home. And you don't wanna go before

you get this, do you." Then, Grubber grabbed his bulge through his jeans and lewdly shook it at the boy. He'd never been with someone so young--he was easily old enough to be this kid's grandfather. That idea had him hard as a rock.

To his surprise, the boy didn't get up and run. Instead, his eyes

fixated on Grubber's adult cock through the denim. Damn. He'd seen some cock-hungry men in his day at this very rest stop. Was it possible a boy this young could be the same way?

He didn't have to ponder that question long. Without saying a word,

the little boy sat up on his knees and scooted toward the man, his hands outstretched, reaching for the bulge. But before the boy could reach him, he put out his dirty hand and placed it on the boy's forehead.

"Ah ah ah, I think you owe me an apology first, little boy."

The kid looked up at him with a scrunched up nose. "For what?" he

said crossly. What a brat.

"For insulting my lovely home. I'm not gonna give you cum if you're

so rude."

"Oh..." the boy said. "Well, I'm.... sorry. I guess it's nice." The

look on the boy's face said otherwise, but the man let it slide.

He moved his hand off the boy's head so it was cupping the child's

face. Then he slowly started to rub his thumb, it's fingernail black with dirt, against the boy's pink and somewhat swollen lips. He smiled bigger when he saw the disgusted look grow even deeper on the boy's small face.

"What's wrong, little boy?" the man said lecherously.

"Your finger... it's kinda dirty and gross," the rude little boy

said.

"So?" the man said. "You didn't seem to think licking a bathroom

floor was gross. Do you have any idea how many men have walked across that floor? Hell, I've walked across that floor with these." To demonstrate his point, Grubber stepped back and lifted one of his filthy feet up. He pressed it against the kid's forehead, nudging the boy backward.

"Ugh!" the boy cried out, disgusted by the dirty foot.

"Don't be such a priss," the man said, still slowly kicking the boy

back until the child was laid out flat on the cardboard. He stood on the boy's face and asked him, "If you think I'm so gross, you probably don't want me to feed you my cum."

"Wait!" the boy said from his position beneath the man's

foot. Grubber lifted his leg to let the boy speak. "No, it's ok... you're not..."

"I'm not what?" the man said, stepping forward so he was standing

over the boy, his feet on either side of the kid's small shoulders.

"You're not too gross."

"Not too gross for what?" the man dropped to his knees now, still

straddling the boy's chest.

"To uh... give me that stuff. Cum."

"Good," the man said. "Though this might change your mind."

With that, the man unzipped the fly of his jeans and hauled out the

third adult cock the boy had seen in his life. And it was nothing like his father's beautifully sculpted cock, or the helpful man's humble dick.

Grubber had a cock that matched his personality and lifestyle. The

best thing you could say about it was that it was utterly huge. But the cock didn't have much else to offer in terms of aesthetics. It had a thick layer of foreskin that hung over the head, until Grubber pulled it back, revealing a glistening purple cockhead. The rest of the cock was thick and veiny, with blue veins running through the foreskin. It had a mean right hook to it, making it truly the ugliest cock Piglet had ever seen (though he hadn't seen too many.)

Still, the boy seemed to inherently know that this cock was

particularly disgusting.

"You still want it?" the man said, lewdly tugging on his meat just

inches from the boy's face.

"D-do you still... shoot the stuff?" the boy asked, wincing as the

cock came ever closer.

"Oh yes," the man said. "In fact, it's been a while since Grubber

came. I'll have a big load for you. If you want it. Do you want, it little boy?"

"I... I think so..." the kid said shakily.

"Hmmm... I'm not convinced. You know, if you're gonna suck me, that

means you're gonna have to smell my crotch. And it's been a while since Grubber had a shower. Maybe you need to sniff me to make sure. You wanna sniff me?"

"Do... do I have to? Can't you just cum?" the boy said.

"Nah, I think you have to. Here," and then he scooted forward while

fulling undoing his jeans, letting his heavy, low-hanging Grandpa balls out into the night air. "Sniff these. I think that should give you an idea."

The homeless man scooted forward again so that his balls were now

dangling over the boy's small face. He lowered himself slowly, until just a few of his gray ball hairs touched the boy's upturned nose.

"Now let me see you sniff. Ten sniffs, and I'll let you suck me."

"And... you'll give me your stuff?" the boy said, looking close to

tears.

"Oh yes. Now sniff. Come on. Let me hear it."

Gruber knew his stench was probably going to make the boy squirm

and want to run away. It had happened before with other sluts. But he got off on a bit of sadism, and besides, it wasn't like the boy could get up and run away.

The sound of the bratty little boy taking deep inhales through his

nose was music to Grubber's ears. But to his surprise, his odor didn't seem to make the boy squirm at all. Instead, it had the opposite effect. By the time he'd counted out ten sniffs, the boy was clearly more relaxed, no longer tense under the man.

"Damn," he muttered. "You kinda like that, don't you?"

The boy didn't say anything, but nodded. "All right, that's

enough," Grubber said. "I'll let you have my cum. But I need to fuck your face, ok? You all right with a little skull fucking, kiddo?"

"What's... what's skull fucking?" the boy said.

"Oh, you'll find out," Grubber said back. "Now open up."

He let out another smile as the boy obediently opened his mouth,

welcoming his groaty cock. He didn't need any more of an invitation. Grubber leaned forward and groaned as he felt his slimy cock head meet the boy's lips.

"Open up," he commanded in his gravel voice, and sure enough, the boy complied.

"Yeahhh, guess you learned a few things, huh boy?" the homeless man grunted as felt the warmth of the little mouth beneath him envelope his cock.

"I saw what you did back there. Ung. That's it. Saw how bad you wanted it. Now take this cock while I teach ya a few things." Fucking the boy's face was incredibly easy. With the kid flat on his back, all Grubber had to do was lower himself down. Gravity did most of the work. The child's face hole was no match for the weight of an adult, even if he was a skinny guy.

He only stopped when he felt the boy spasm and felt his first gag against the glands of his head. He held it there, letting the boy breathe heavily through his nose.

Grubber looked down at the kid as best he could ,managing to make eye contact.

"You got a lot more to learn though, kiddo," he grunted. "Can't be going around stealing loads from men who don't wanna feed ya. Plenty of men who do. But you gotta learn to ask... nice!"

On the word "nice," Grubber dropped himself down onto his forearms. He heard the boy give out a panicked little Mmph! as the back of his mouth made acquaintance with this scary man's penis.

"See kiddo, ever man is different. Like snowflakes. You can't treat `em all the same." Grubber knew that was true. He knew that stealing a wallet off some dumb tourist was a different game than conning some runaway teen to pay him too much for some drugs.

"Some men will let you suck it out on your own. Like your friend tonight. Was that your daddy? Hope not. He left you behind if so."

Grubber lifted up his hips to give the boy some air. His cock head popped out again into the night air.

Once the boy was done coughing and spluttering, he managed to say, "Please! Just give me the cum!"

That was the only thing he said, though, before Grubber's grubby cock was back in his mouth, pushing more forcefully now.

"Oh, don't worry baby boy, you'll get some of my butter. But first you gotta learn how some men like you to take their cum. And me? Well, I like to face fuck."

And right then, Grubber taught the boy the meaning of that term. No longer able to be patient, he began to thrust into the kid's mouth, each time going deeper and deeper, until he busted through the gateway to the child's throat.

Once in there, the going was easy. All he had to do was hold the little kids shoulders down with his knees while he humped into his mouth. Before long, Grubber had worked up plenty of that delicious throat slime that made it so easy to rape a face like this. He could hump and hump as long as he wanted, because he wanted to savor this moment. When would he ever get a chance like this again?

By the time he pulled into the empty, dark parking lot, Domingo already felt like he was going to vomit from nerves. The trail ended here. He could see from a larger oil stain that the vehicle had stopped in a parking lot. Then he saw the same two sets of footsteps leading toward the bathroom.

"Fuck. No, no, no..." he said as he made his way toward the glowing, ugly little building. It seemed like the only light around was coming from there, and he didn't like it.

He knew what went on in these bathrooms. He wasn't an idiot. Before he'd started starring in porno, he'd even visited a few of these spots himself. He'd learned early on that women were afraid of the... volume he could produce. But he knew he could count on some fag to swallow his cum anonymously when he got too horny to think straight.

He'd seen all types of queers swallow his jizz at stops like these. Old, married fags looking for a quickie. Young, curious boys in over their heads. Tourists swinging through town. The number of guys who seemed more than happy to drink cum with no reciprocation was practically endless.

But he'd never seen anyone like his son at a place like this. Was it really possible? Could his own little boy count himself among the ranks of cock-hungry cum-suckers who would spend hours on their knees on dirty bathroom floors?

Domingo shook his head. This kind of thought process wasn't helping. He needed to focus on finding and rescuing his son. He could deal with the boy's cum addiction once he had him back under his own roof.

The parking lot was silent, but as he got closer to the restroom, he heard sounds that made his stomach lurch.

At first, he thought perhaps he was hearing an animal in the bushes. A racoon, perhaps, or a fox. But as he walked closer, he could tell the sounds were human. Grunting, groaning, moaning. There was no doubt about it--someone was getting their cock serviced.

It can't be him, Domingo thought. There could be any number of men out here having some late-night fun. His son had probably gotten back into the car and driven off. He should turn back now, go follow the oil trail some more.

But it was almost like he was hypnotized, drawn on toward the back of the restroom building, where the sounds were coming from. Once he was around back, he didn't see anything, but he could still hear the sounds more clearly now. Underneath the sound of the grunting and groaning was a rhythmic slap of flesh on flesh. Oh god.

He looked around, tormented by the sound for a good thirty seconds, before he saw the trampled branches and bushes leading deeper into the dark woods. His body screamed at him to stop, to turn around, but he knew he had to investigate. If that was his son back there, he needed to save him.

As he made his way into the darkness, he started to make out some words between the grunts.

"Yeah, suck it," came a deep and creepy voice. "Suck that cock, boy. Grubber's gonna teach you all about face fucking, you little faggot."

Face fucking? Did he hear that right? Could someone really be talking so lewdly and openly about such an act? Somehow, it put his heart at rest slightly. If there was face fucking going on, there was no way his son was involved. The kid hadn't even sucked a cock, so a skull fuck was too much. Right? But then...

"Hungry for cum, aren't you, little bugger?" the man's voice said. "Out here all alone, looking for jizz. Don't worry, Grubber's gonna feed you soon. But first just need to fuck... ugh.. that tight little throat a little more."

Domingo was only a few feet away from the sound, and now he could hear another disgusting part of the chorus. Underneath the man's voice, the thrusting and slapping, the grunting and groaning, he could hear tiny, pathetic little gagging noises. They matched the slaps perfectly--this wasn't some perv jerking himself off in the woods. There was someone on the receiving end of that abuse.

Finally, Domingo was upon them. He parted a bush in front of him and was met with the most terrifying sight he'd ever seen in his life. At first, he thought perhaps there really was only one person back there. From this angle, all he could see was some scrawny white ass, hairy and mature, bent at a 45-degree angle over the ground. Thrusting rapidly. He almost gagged at the site of the man's filthy bare feet, black with grime, pushing against the dirt to get more leverage.

But then he saw it... and he cried out in shock and anguish. Coming out underneath the man's spread thighs were another pair of... well, thighs. But unlike the man, these thighs belonged to someone much, much younger. And cleaner.

There was no denying it. Those legs sticking out from under the man like the Wicked Witch crushed under a house belonged to his own baby boy. It was his kid, for certain, getting face fucked by this evil man.

"Here it comes, baby," the man said, picking up his thrusting. "Oh fuck... you're gonna get a drink little boy... right... n--"

"AHHHHH!" Domingo let out a roar and rushed forward, tackling the creepy old man to the ground. But it was too late. The man was already cumming, and as he wrestled the man to the ground, he felt the warm spray of the disgusting guy's cum going everywhere.

He didn't have time to think about whether his boy was getting sprayed down. All he could do was grab the man and thrust him into the ground, raising his fist.

"Hey! You can be next!" the man said, just before Domingo punched him in the face. He saw the man's eyes glaze over for a moment, and then the guy started panicking.

But Grubber was a street-smart little bastard, and he'd been attacked many times before. Domingo felt the man write and wriggle until suddenly he was out of his grip, and just like that, the homeless man was off running into the woods.

Domingo started to give chase, but he stopped when he heard the sounds coming from his still-splayed-out little boy. The kid was coughing wildly, gasping for air. Looking down, he saw the kid flopping there on the dirty cardboard like a fish. He was covered in slime--and there was no denying some of it was from the man who had just fled. Would he ever see the man who had abused his son again? He was still filled with rage, but he had to push it down to drop to his knees and cradle his little boy in his arms.

"Oh, son, why... why?" Domingo moaned, rocking his sputtering little boy back and forth. And then a terrible thought came into his mind.

Maybe this will teach him not to go hunting for cum.

Domingo was furious at himself for having the thought, but he didn't have time to berate himself too much. Because right at that moment, a loud sound scared both him and his little son.

WHOOP WHOOP

He looked up through the trees and once again felt his stomach drop out. There were lights. Flashing lets. Red and blue. The cops.

FUCK!

"Come out with your hands up, pervert!" a loud and deep voice came over the intercom. "We've got you cornered."

End of Part 3

Don't worry, guys, there's lots more to cum. I will be planning out the next chapters and love bouncing ideas around with horny readers, or just chatting about pervy stuff. Hit me up:

Twitter: @TaylorFoxxWorld KIK: TaylorFoxxAuthor Email: [email protected]