blove-max-and-peter-3

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Ağu 21, 2022 // By:analsex // No Comment

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Subject: Blove-Max and Peter Chapter 3 Blove- Max and Peter � St. Willie This is the story of young brothers desperate for stability in their lives in a time where everything they knew as normal suddenly fell to pieces. Strange truths are uncovered as the boys rebuild their lives. In the story you will find characters of Blove, a small seaside resort town. Like many small towns, this place has its characters; some enjoyable, some serious and some simply tolerable. “Max and Peter” is a tale of men and boys. If you want to, please read the story of “Blove Vic and Tony”, to see what the characters of Santa and Willie had to endure before they met Max and his brother Peter https://www.//gay/adult-youth/blove-vic-and-tony/ and https://www.//gay/adult-youth/ben-storm/ to see all that lives in the town called Blove. “Max and Peter” was written pre-Corona, aka, Covid-19. Meant to be published at the time that winter starts in the country where Blove is located. The fictional town of Blove is in the Southern hemisphere of this big, wide world. It is a story of unquarantined characters who freely visit, play and enjoy the beaches and wide horizons. Though the virus has caused us to recede from our full lives in fear, we don’t need to stay isolated or fearful. Let your imagination roam Blove with Max and his brother Peter as you enjoy their extraordinary experiences. St. Willie ail Your donation to Nifty is for your fty/donate.html CHAPTER 3 Peter let the old man lead him down stairs, too scared to say anything, he started to rub his butt for the ass-whipping he is bound to get, if not from Santa himself but from his mom. She always threatened them with a good hiding if she ever found out they stole. “What you rubbing your ass for?” Santa asked turning to the right when they exited the building. “For those big hands of yours,” Peter did not look up “I think for the one that’s named `Naughty.'” Took Santa a few seconds to work out what the boy said. “O, the tattoo.” Santa smiled, “No my boy, I am not into punishment like that. I would hate it when someone strikes me, even if only on the butt, so why will I want to do it to a other?” “So, you not going to give me a hiding with the one marked `Naughty’?” Peter said relieved, “You going to phone my mom now, right?” “Let’s get to my house first.” Santa said opening the gate. “I think we need some privacy first, and NO, I will not punish you, it’s not my place. We hardly know each other from a bar of soap.” Peter walked on the cobble stones towards the front door, rose bushes empty and bare, but the grass was green and freshly mowed, the smell of it filling the air. Peter looked at the front door, a big wooden one with a lion carved into it. Santa opened the door and immediately punched in the security code for the alarm system, Peter could not help to notice it was 12345 even thinking that it’s a stupid code. They walked into the entrance hall with a mirror on the far wall, a small table with a praying boy in front of it. They turned left in to a wide hallway, white walls and gray carpeting, a portrait of a young man against the wall in old wrestling gear, looking as if he is ready for a match, the short curly hair reminded him of Willie, but the green eyes attract him the most. It looked like he was looking right into your soul. They stopped in front of the painting. “That’s Tony.” Santa said and Peter could see the deep sorrow in his eyes, “He passed not so long ago, hell I miss him.” He looked down at the boy staring at the painting, thinking the boy wanted to know more. “Met Tony when I was about your brother’s age, he was my wrestling coach. The photo was taken a day after he received his national colors, I just had it painted a few years ago.” “Thought he was your boyfriend?” Peter looked up into the blue eyes of Santa. “A coach isn’t the same age as you.” “Indeed, he was my coach.” Santa started while guiding the boy in to his home office, “And yes he was my boyfriend as well.” “Like in that magazine you found?” Peter asked innocently. Peter was guided to a luxury leather chair in front of the old oak office table, a laptop and two pictures as decoration. Behind the desk was one big book shelf filled books, the book on the end of the right side had a boy with a chicken on it – “Farm Boys” written in big white letters on the right top corner. Peter giggled. Santa just looked at the book the boy was looking at and had no idea why he giggled. He sat down in the huge chair behind the desk. “As I was saying, he was my boyfriend.” Santa said looking at one of the pictures on his desk, Peter could only see the back of it. “For 36 years, beautiful years, but we had our ups and downs as well, but in the end, they were beautiful years.” “That’s long?” Peter looked up from the boy and chicken book again, “How old are you now?” “I am 50,” Tony placed the photo back on the table, “He would have been 71 this spring.” Peter started counting on his fingers, Santa looked on and smiled, he could have helped the boy by giving the answer that he was looking for, but he didn’t. It is fun watching a boy working out a puzzle. “That means you were 14 and he was…” Peter started counting on his fingers again, gave up. “He was very old” “Yip, 34.” Santa smiled recalling his youth, “Pretty much the same ages as those men and boys in that magazine you had.” “Think so, yes.” Peter felt he was in trouble about the book and not the stolen diaper. “Are you going to phone my mom now?” Peter looked on as Santa placed his mobile phone on the desk. “Do you want me to?” Santa no longer smiled turned into a serious face. “No.” Peter said looking down on his swinging feet, “She will not like the dirty mag or the stolen nappy.” “I am not worried about the nappy Peter.” Santa wondered out of what angle he must proceed. “That dirty mag as you call it, do you know how much trouble you can get in if found with it?” “Mom will ground me for a life time.” Peter stop swinging his legs, feeling the need to pee out of anxiety. “Your mom will be the least of your problems.” Santa knew the boy did not know the book was illegal. “May I ask where you got it?” “Max found it…” Peter stopped as he just outed his brother being the real owner of it. “So, its Max’s. Not yours.” Santa sat back in his chair, deep in thought. “So where did he find it?” “Not going to say.” Peter crossed his arms as if telling Santa he is taking a stand. “That’s our secret.” Santa looked at the boy with the crossed arms, he just knew that he will have gain the boy’s trust first. But how? Maybe he must tell him a secret as well, but that will not be good for him if the boy talks to his mother, being to direct will also not be good. He leaned forward looking into the blue eyes, wondering what to do next. “You will not beat me with the staring game.” Peter said proudly, “Max always tries and loses every time.” So it began, man and boy staring at each other, no one willing to blink an eye, the puppy-eye faces of Peter did not work as it did on Max. “If I win, you tell me?” Santa did not move an eye lid. “If you win, I will tell you a secret about me.” “Deal.” Peter tried pulling his face in different ways now, not working. The two of them refused to blink even one eye, this was a standoff, one that both of them wanted to win. “Why did the chicken cross the road?” Santa tried making the boy laugh as his new strategy “To cross to the other side.” Peter barely moved a muscle “Lame. Try again.” “Your turn.” Santa said wanting to know the boy finds funny “Do you want to hear a construction joke” Peter smiled, eyes wide open. “Yes” Santa replied. “Still working on it.” Took Santa a few moments, wanting to laugh but he just smiled. That joke told him that Peter is a very intelligent little boy even if his innocence made him look stupid at times. “I ate a clock today.” Santa realized he was not good at jokes, ” It was very time-consuming.” Peter knew he was trying to beat a master as the staring game, one with lame jokes but he just needed to win. He thought for a second. “Why is my mother me the least to worry about if they find that dirty mag?” Peter asked. Santa almost stopped the game just there and then, by the knew what the boy was trying to do, if he blinks the boy wins. “The police will lock sakarya escort you in jail.” Santa said with as much seriousness as he could with dry eyes. “What?” Peter was surprised, blinking his eyes not caring about the game anymore, “What you mean?” “It’s the law, I am afraid.” Santa sat back again relieved that he can blink his eyes again, but feared that he stirred the pot too much. “In our country as in most other countries, it’s illegal to have porn of boys. And what you have is just that, they call it `child porn.'” “Why?” Peter did not understand. “Your boyfriend was old and you were only 14, and David’s brother is only…” Peter felt he could kick himself, he just outed himself and the games he and David played with his brother. “Because they do not understand our kind of love,” Santa was thinking that Peter was involved with an older boy. “They say men only abuse the boys and that does happen, but there are men like Tony that truly loved me as a boy.” “Max found a whole stash of those books the last time daddy was away for work.” Peter confessed, the fear of being locked up was over whelming, “he wanted to put it back, but never did. Daddy didn’t even miss it.” “So did you and daddy…” Santa knew he had to tread carefully now, “Ever do things like they did in the magazine?” “No, never.” Peter looked at Santa with scared eyes, “I was not allowed to even see him in his undies, never mind seeing his chicken.” “Chicken?” Santa looked at the boy, “Is that what you call it now days?” “Every one says a penis is a cock.” Peter explained, “A cock don’t sit on eggs, only the hen does. It will sound stupid to call it a hen so I call it a chicken. A man has chicken sitting in a nest of hair with two eggs in it, well not you, you have no nest.” Santa looked at the boy and was amazed on how his little mind works, in a way it made sense as well. He could not help as to burst out laughing, a laugh that came from inside his stomach, tears staring to role from his eyes. Every time he wants to speak, he couldn’t as he will just start laughing again. Peter started relaxing, joining in on the laughter, had no idea why though, as it made perfect sense to him that a penis can’t be called a cock. Santa stood up and unable to speak with his laughter he showed Peter just to wait for him as he disappeared into the long hall way again. Peter could hear his laughter growing fainter the further he went. Peter took the photo frame that Santa looked at earlier, turned it around and looked at the boy and man standing with his other, one was the same man as in the portrait in the hall way, the boy he did not recognized but the eyes was the same friendly blue eyes as Santa, the two of them seemed happy. He recognized the look they gave each other as the same look his mother and father had before all hell broke loose. He took the other photo and looked at it, Santa and an old man with a boy he recognized immediately, it was Willie with his curly dark hair and blue eyes. If he did not know better, he would still say Santa is Willie’s father. The old man looked very sick, same height as Santa, but not a single hair on his head, not even any eyebrows. The green eyes were the same as the young man in the hallway and on the other photo, must be Santa’s boyfriend Tony. He heard the toilet flush and the laughter appeared again, still fading away as the footstep went further in to the house. Peter was still a bit freaked out that he might go to jail for books that was not his, but he felt relaxed, for one or other reason he knows Santa will not phone the cops nor his mother. He stood up and walked to the bookshelf, straight to the chicken book, taking from the shelf and reading the back of it. It was a book about boys growing up on the farm and that the boys were gay, he replaced the book and started scanning the other books. Titles like “Two Boys Kissing,” and “Gay” and “A Boy’s Own Story” were among the many books but it was one that caught his eye, “Mom, Dad, I Am Gay.” He took the black book with the words printed in multi colored letters. As he turned the book over to read the back Santa spoke from behind him, startling him so much that he threw the book to the other side of the room. “Interesting book to read.” Santa said putting the sodas he brought on the desk before picking up the book. “How does one know they’re gay?” Peter asked shyly, “I mean, how did you know?” “That answer can’t find in any book.” Santa said taking out an ashtray and cigarettes from the top drawer of the desk. “You can read all about it and books can guide you, but only you will know the answer to that question.” Santa lit two cigarettes and gave on to his young guest. Peter just looked at the gray man for a bit as he took a few deep draws of his smoke, Santa could see the boy is not new to smoking as any other boy would have coughed inhaling the smoke so deep in to his lungs. But it was Peter whose brain was in overdrive. Can he trust this stranger? Will he phone his mother or even the police, but yet here he is sitting and smoking with a grownup man. Their eyes met and for some strange reason Peter felt if he can talk to this man, tell his deepest thought just like he would do with the real Father Christmas, the real Santa. “Are you sure you will not tell my mom?” Peter asked one more time, “Or even Max.” Santa sat back and looked the smoking boy in front of him, there was no hint of a smile on the little one’s face, just a serious but yet scared look in the eyes. He felt sorry for the boy as he remembers the struggles he had to endure before he could come out to himself, let alone to others. “I give you my word.” Santa smiled as he looked into the innocent blue eyes of Peter. “I know what you going through as you sit there, for I to had the inner demons to fight with. Now, here you sit with all that is happening with your parents, your dad’s second family and I’m won’t even mention you moving all the way here to live in a pink room. I want to help you but only can if you trust me that I will not tell a living soul what you tell me.” Peter looked down at his dangling feet, taking a few more drags from his smoke before killing it in the ashtray, sipping some soda afterwards. He looked at the back of the photo of a young Santa and his boyfriend as if he could see right through the back of the frame. “Why do you smoke?” Santa asked to get the boy to talk, “I mean how did you start?” “I stared last year.” Peter looked at Santa seeing that his short answer was not enough “I had a sleep over at my best friend David’s house over winter vacation last year. His mom and dad had to go to some dinner for work and David’s brother had to baby sit us. It was his 15th birthday the next day, that why I was there because David was allowed one friend. David and I was playing games in his room till he asked me if I want some hot Milo. As we walked in to the kitchen we caught his brother James smoking and drinking one of his dad’s beers.” Peter looked at the packet of cigarettes on the desk, took one and lit it up. “Too much ain’t good for you.” Santa regretted his remark instantly as he received one foul look from the boy, that’s what was written in his eyes. “James was scared that we will tell his mom and dad,” Peter continued, “so he said that we must smoke as well, even handed us each a beer. We did not want to, but then he started saying if we did, he will show us things only big boys know about. So we took a few sips of beer, it tasted shitty in the beginning but it was nice after a while. The smoking was really bad, James showed us how to inhale and we coughed so much we started feeling sick. But we wanted to see what only big boys know about, so we smoked and drunk our beers. Soon we started feeling very happy as if we were floating, so we forced him to show us. He did not want to in the beginning but David said if he does not show he will tell his dad everything.” Santa saw that the boy is starting to struggle to go on with his tale, he already knew what was going to happen next, but as soon as he wanted to talk Peter continued. “He showed us pictures on his mobile phone.” Peter looked down to his feet before continuing “First it was only girls with bikini’s, then it was boobs. David and I liked it, so did James, he told us to samsun escort take off our pants, but we did not want to at first. James continued showing us the ladies on his phone, soon they were totally naked. I have seen my mommy naked a few times, but those looked so sexy. James took his pants off and I saw a real big chicken right there in front of me. David and I did the same and James learned us how to wank, you know how to play with ourselves. We enjoyed it, but it felt wrong, we wanted to stop but James did not let us. He said if we do it with him, he will show us how his chicken, or cock as he said, will puke white milk. We said he lied as only pee will come out, but it was not pee in the end. His chicken did puke white milk from the small opening where pee comes out. James told us it’s called cum and that we, one day will make it ourselves.” Peter fell silent and looked at Santa that was deep in thought. “Did it happen only that once?” Santa asked, “More important, how you feel about it?” “David and I did feel very guilty about it.” Peter took a few more draws before taking a sip from his soda. “We always thought that our moms will know, but they never did find out and we did not stop either. We wanked every time we were together, we wanted the have the white milk puke as well. James body went all stiff when he puked. I started to have sleepovers at David’s place, every time he had to baby sit us.” “You do know that boys can only cum, or puke white milk as you know it when they’re about 13?” Santa said when Peter stopped speaking to kill his second smoke. “Max is 13 and his is still like pee.” Peter looked at Santa if he told lie, “It’s just sticky and thick.” “Yea, but soon it will become white.” Santa saw his error, “Some boys start at 11 or 12 and some only start much later, like 15 or so.” “We started playing games,” Peter continued, “first we had to see who’s was the biggest. James always won, but that was unfair, he was 15 and we, only 8 and 9. Later it was playing baby-baby. Me and David had to wear just nappies, James would feed us chips and tea and we had to suck dummies. He was always hard and the same stuff that Max have now was leaking from his chicken as if it was drooling. He told David to start sucking his chicken as if it was a dummy. David did and said it was nice and I must help him, I did and I enjoyed it as well. Strange how the hard chicken felt, so hard but yet so soft in my hands. It puked in my mouth and it was real bad, the taste made me sick.” “Do you want him to play that game with you again?” Santa stared shifting his erection to a more comfortable position. “I mean did you like the games?” “I know what you mean, duh.” Peter said with a grin on his face, “I am 9, not 5 you know. Yes, I loved it but not the puke taste in my mouth. We had to pee in the nappies and then James would clean us, sucking on our chickens, that was so much fun. But one time David pooped in the nappy. It was so funny as all 3 of us stood round one toilet and puking from our mouths, never again did David poo in the nappy. James then started a new game and said it will stop us to poo while we playing. He would give us an enema, but I knew it was only his finger up our bums. Fuck, that felt awesome. One day he wanted to give us an enema with his chicken, David was first, but started crying and said it was very sore, we did not try that again. James said that we will try it again after he bought some stuff. But now I am here and James did it with David on Friday night. He showed me with a pic that he sent. James’ chicken was all the way inside of David till his balls was against his butt.” “Wow!” Santa did not know if the boy hated it, but it did sound like he rather enjoyed it. “Can I see the pic?” Santa asked, feeling that he was leaking. He never liked the nappy thing, but the way the boy told it, so innocently, it was something special. “So, I take it you took the nappy so you can wear it again?” “Duh.” Peter said seeing Santa’s discomfort with his erection, “I like to play those games, it’s fun. David said once we are gay because we do dirty things with his brother. I do not like to wear nappies that much, David loved it, he showed me he came once to school wearing one” “Let me guess.” Santa said in a soft voice, “If you did not wear nappies James said you can’t play?” “Yip.” Peter felt his own groin pushing against his tight undies and jeans. “But I did like peeing in them and to be cleaned and the enema to stop us of pooing.” Santa looked at the time, it was almost noon and he decided to do something he had never done before in his life. He looked at the boy and then of the pictures of Tony, softly saying sorry to his old boyfriend. “If you want to,” Santa did hesitate a few moments, “We can take that nappy and if you want to, I can try and do the same as James did, but you do not need to wear any nappy to feel the same pleasure.” Santa was nervous as hell looking at the boy, never before in his life was he so blunt as he was now, but he was horny and lonely. Ever since the passing of his old mentor, his boyfriend he never even thought about masturbating, not even with Willie that slept in his bed for the past 6 months. “Hmmm.” Peter wanted to say yes, but he is an old man and he knows how big that chicken is, “Okay but swear you will tell no one.” “I swear.” Santa swallowed, “Are you sure?” “Yes, dead sure.” Peter said stripping his clothes from him, his almost 3-inch cock standing at attention. “You must get nude as well.” Santa did not want to, so nervous was he, but the boy was one step ahead of him. Peter walked around the desk and started helping Santa to take his jacket off. As Peter helped, he saw more and more of the big man bare flesh, the wolf tattoo on the back with the word WOOF inked just below it. On his right upper arm was a tattoo of barbed wire with a small red rose in the middle of the wire, the left chest had a heart tattoo with Tony written inside of it. Peter took his finger and followed the barbed wire tattoo, seeing the old man sweating. “You wanna do it with the nappy?” Santa asked before stripping his red and white stripped undies that was tenting ferociously. “You say it will feel the same?” Peter asked and his eyes grew wide to see a 7-inch smooth uncut cock sticking up in the air, pushing against the overhanging tummy of Santa. Santa picked up the boy and placed him on the desk, his fingers slowly following the contours of the smooth body of the boy, right down to where skin met the oak wood of the desk, he wanted to feel the little dick, touch it, play with the small balls that tucked in so nicely, bit of loose scrotum hanging. He listened to the boys breathing that was filling up with lust, his own not far behind that of the boy’s. His hand started stroking the upper legs, his cock rubbing against the one knee, sending pleasure to the rest of his body as his dick head felt the smooth skin under it. He slowly lowered his head, kissing the inner thighs of the boy. It must be ticklish as the boy started giggling but even that sounded like it was filled with lust. He lifted his head to see if the boy is still okay with what is happening. “You better than James.” Peter said while pushing Santa’s head back down towards his waiting chicken, that was so hard it started feeling sore. Santa’s lips met his balls and the warm feeling around his balls did let him forget about the pain his erection was causing, he wanted more, needed more and he pushed down harder on the gray white head between his legs. He felt as Santa pushed his upper body down to the desk, sending the two pictures frames to the ground, but no one took notice as Santa lifted up Peters legs, placing the feet on the desk, Peter had to shift a bit back to almost letting his head go over the edge on the other side, his knees was in the air. Santa started licking just below the silky soft scrotum, smelling the sweet smell only a boy can make, arousing him even more. His tongue went lower and lower, closer and closer to its final destination, his nose touching the soft skin of the ball sack. Santa started licking the small and tight love blossom, feeling each small little bump it had to offer. He started pushing his tongue against the blossom feeling it opening just a bit, ankara sarışın escort retreating a bit and pushed at it again, deeper with every push he gave. Peter wanted to ask why he was being licked down there, thinking how disgusting it must be, but the thoughts quickly escaped out of his mind and was replaced by the feeling like none other pleasure that James ever gave him. His breathing was now shallow and he closed his eyes and felt disappointed as the licking stared back up, over his balls and along his small shaft, but that feeling was replaced with more pleasure as he felt the tongue moving around his chicken’s head and something else pushing against his hole at the same time. He felt Santa’s mouth opening and covering his whole hard chicken who was now moving itself inside the mouth of the man, fighting with his tongue. The pressure on his hole increasing feeling a short sharp pain as it slipped in, he closed his legs and started pushing away, but Santa hold him there, playing with his tongue on the underside of his chicken, pushing between his foreskin and head, the pain he felt was short lived and he felt the finger going deeper in side of him, touching a little button, sending shock waves through his body. His whole body reacted to it and he was shaking feeling like he wanted to pee, but he didn’t pee, his body relaxed soon after he stopped shaking. Santa sat up and looked at him. When their eyes met Peter wanted to say that it was awesome, but he couldn’t, his lips did not want to move. He looked down at his chicken and his eyes grew even wider, it was thicker almost puffy-like. Santa looked at the spent boy feeling his own orgasm building inside him, he stood up and pulled the boy’s body towards him till his legs was dangling over the side of the desk, their erections meeting. Santa took hold of his pulsating hard, thick dick, starting to masturbate with his smooth hanging balls rubbing against the smooth, puffy dick of the boy. He took a deep breath smelling the sweet, musky smell only a boy can give to a man. He looked on as Peter reached for his hard dick, taking a finger full of the leaking pre cum and tasting it. The look on the boy’s face said he liked it and the boy pushed him back onto the chair he was sitting on earlier. Peter slid from the desk, looking down at his own puffy hard dick, it felt very sensitive as he touched it, but he knew what he needed to do, wanted to do. He wanted to give this lovable teddy bear of a big man the same pleasure that was giving to him. He picked up the sack with one hand, feeling the weight it had and the mere size of the balls, he played with it before licking it, only after he had the whole sack wet did he move up the shaft making sure to do it from the underside of it, same as Santa did to him. Lingering at the top, twirling his tongue around the exposed head, giving special attention to the v at the bottom where foreskin met head, the moaning of Santa increased and Peter decided to place his lips around the big fat head of his teddy bear. The warm feeling around his head made Santa arch backwards trying to push more into the open mouth, but he had little success as the boy could only fit most of his head before gagging, but it was enough to send Santa over the edge. He withdrew his cock from the boy’s mouth spraying his small body with load after load of his cum, 6 months’ worth of it. “I am so sorry.” Santa pleaded, feeling guilty that he just covered the boy’s front torso with his cum. Peter took his finger and started fingering the cum that was covering his body, feeling smooth and warm, darker in color that James’s ever been, he smelled it, tasting it, not liking it. “Your thick pee tastes much better than this milk your chicken just puked.” Peter said pulling a face. “Let me help clean you up.” Santa said but it looked like he wanted to cry. “I’m so sorry I have done this with you.” “Why you sorry?” Peter asked taking a second lick of the white milk dripping from his left nipple, “I loved it and wanna do it again.” “You sure?” Santa said but the tears were building up in his eyes as he saw the picture of Tony on the floor. “Why are you crying?” Peter asked, “You’re much better than James, and I loved it, you big, old teddy bear.” “Go take a shower.” Santa said but the words of Peter did strike a very sore wound. Tony used to call him his teddy bear. “The last door on your left, please go.” Peter could see the man wanted a private moment, unsure why, but he knows it’s got something to do with the old man in the photo. He heard the soft sobbing coming from the big man as he picked the photo of Tony standing there, no hair and with big welcoming green eyes. He left the room and walked in the direction Santa told him where the bathroom was, hearing the sobbing still in the background. Peter walked in the bathroom, immediately making sure the window is closed, he did not need his brother to know he taking a shower of Santa’s home. It was closed. He looked around, seeing not only the old man’s clothes but that of the Willies as well. There was a used nappy in the bin as well, but it was clean. He could still the faint sobbing of Santa in the back ground as he stepped into the shower, he remembered that his clothes were still in the study. He opened the water and it was way too cold at first. Jumping back and then only adjusted the water and only got back in when the water was perfect temperature for him, he could no longer hear Santa sobs, he rather liked that. He looked around and could only find a body wash hanging from the tap, he smelled it and it reminded him not only of Santa but his father’s smell. He did not want to use the sponge laying there, putting a heap of the blue gel in his hand and started washing his torso, looking down he could see the spunk being washed away. He smiled as he recalls the pleasure that he received a few minutes ago. He wanted to do it again, if he had his way it would be right now, but he knew Santa was not in the mood. His thoughts dwelled on why Santa is crying though, was he also feeling as guilty as he did when he did it the first few times with James. He remembered how he wanted to tell Max about it and even his mom, but he never did. He did not want James to get in trouble for something he likes being done to him. He must speak to Santa before he says something that would bring them trouble, he had to rush. He quickly rinsed the soap from his body before he closed that taps, he decided there was no time to wait and dried himself while walking back to the now silent room. He walked in to find Santa sitting dressed, behind the desk, eyes blood-red from crying, but he was relaxing with a smoke. “We need to talk.” Peter said sitting down, towel on the floor, “I know why you crying.” “You do?” Santa said, smoke escaping from his lips, “Let me hear what you think you know.” “Okay.” Peter gave the big man a once over, “You feel guilty about what we did, you think it’s wrong as I did with James. Am I right?” “Yes, I do,” Santa answered holding the packet of smokes out to Peter, “I feel guilty for using you to get my load off, I feel guilty for using your trust and most of all I feel guilty that I broke a promise to my boyfriend, Tony. I promised him that I will only sleep with those that I truly love and I really like you but, but I don’t love you. If you can understand that?” Peter took a few deep drags from his smoke, thinking on what to say next before he answered. “We did not sleep together” Peter said grinning. “We only had some fun, you gave me an enema. I don’t understand why you need to love me to have fun like that, I don’t love James like that. I like you but you’re not my family so I don’t love you.” “You’re not mad at me?” Santa looked at the boy, “You not scared of me now?” “Nope,” Peter jumped of the chair and walked round the desk, “I am scared that you will tell my mommy about our fun, even tell her about James.” Peter stroke the big man’s arm, giving him puppy-eyes. “You want to keep it a secret? Santa looked into the blue puppy-eyes that was bigger than normal “But I am scared you will tell, little one.” “Deal.” Peter smiled, “Our secret.” Peter spit into his right hand and offered it for a handshake, Santa did the same before shaking the little boy’s hand. “Deal.” Santa said knowing that it will happen again, even if every bone in his body screams NO. To Be Continued. Xxxx Please feel free to comment by emailing me on ail positive or negative comments welcomed, even if only to say hello. I know how lonely a lock down can be

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