My mother and my sister couldnt take care of him; they had to go shopping and I dont mean for goddamn food. The two regular babysitters were busy, probably getting their cunts dicked by their boyfriends while leaving one of their best customers high and dry. Well, I cant be too mad at both of them. Anita did, after all, suggest a boy at her school who baby sat a lot. I guess she heard the skepticism in my voice, I mean, hell, so its a stereotype, but I didnt want to

Growing up, hed regularly serviced the men in his family and most of their friends, and loved every drop of cum pumped into and on him. But last week was hot. Ten-year-old Jimmy, slender, and a well-trained boy-slut. His father Mike was the assistant soccer coach for one of St. Pius opponents in the city league, and together theyd double-fucked the kid, ass priest and mouth daddy. Since then, zip. Hell, not even a decent confession to jack off to.

Sams Place was perfect for what Father Sean had set up. It was a big, old-fashioned restaurant-bar, with a lot of dark wood, and dimly lit. He was in a large booth in the back "family" area. He had fond memories of this booth. It was in this same booth that hed first learned the joys of public sex. Grampa Leo had brought him, telling him that at six he was a big boy who ought to learn other fun things about sex. Sean couldnt imagine what could be more fun than his daddy, and his grampas, and his uncles taking him to bed and fucking his boy cunt and sucking his little cock or letting him suck their dicks and swallow all their hot tasty cum.

Mike decided to try Father Flanagan. Not because of the priest-pedo stereotype, but because of what he saw when the soccer team Mike helped coach played the team from St. Pius. Father Flanagan was the coach and while he never touched his boys in any way... And inside wondering what it would be like to have this cutie suck hard manmeat, or that cutie down on all fours with a fat cock shoved up his boy pussy. It wasnt like Mike wasnt getting enough boy cunt already. Not with his ten-year-old son Jimmy, Jimmys best friend, ten-year-old Andy, and their friend, nine-year-old Chris, all eager and willing to serve Mikes depraved needs.

Father Sean finished the story of his six-year-old self getting fucked and sucked and sucking off his grandfather, great-uncle, uncle, a stranger, and two waiters in a t-room orgy in this same restaurant a bit over thirty years ago. He took a final sip of his current glass of wine. "So, what do you think?" John took a drink of his wine, more of a gulp, before saying, "Jesus, that was hot. This was one of two things hed never confessed to the priest, but, fuck yeah, hed thought about other men sexing his little boy. Teenagers, adults, old men. As long as he got to watch, and then have him when the others were all done. "Perhaps with me?" John could only nod.

He smiled as he popped the tab on his second beer, took a big swallow, and then set it down so he could finish making the poker table look like it had actually been used this bright Sunday afternoon. Not that it had been used much since that poker night a bit over two months ago when he and his best friends, Tony and Don, found out: a they were all pedos; b Tony had been sexing his three boys for almost their whole lives, although only Tony, Jr. had been fucked by his dad, while the little assholes of Marco and Eddie were still virgin, c Don had fucked a

It was the worst of times. Okay, maybe not the actual worst. After all, he wasnt about to pay a friendly visit to the neighborhood guillotine, and wave at Madame LaFarge, sitting below with her knitting basket while waiting for the Queen of Hearts to yell, "Off with his head!" But still, mixed whatever or not, Mike The boy was still quivering a little from a very large dry cum. Mike lowered the boys legs to the bed from their to-the-chest, spread-em-wide position, and then flopped down on his back beside him. He lightly stroked his cock, enjoying the slimy feel of lube, cum and ass juices. He was really horny, and in the mood for a mini-orgy.

Father Sean hadnt seen the man before he entered the confessional. The voice was a deep bass, rich, cultured. None of which fit the general image of the parishioners and others who attended mass at St. Pius, or whose children attended the parish school system in which Father Sean taught and coached a mostly-winning soccer team for preteen boys. "How long has it been since your last confession, my son?" "A month, father." "Ah.