By Reading this, you acknowledge that it's intended for adults only, like the rest of the work of tinafosteruk@gmail.com
Now, please do remember this is just adult fantasy, if you're not old enough to read this, or if this sort of thing isn't for you, "why are you here?? Go away..."
To those who enjoy reading these, thank you for your attention. It's appreciated...
Mereside Cherub
I had been using my eyes to frame a shot for the digital camera in the left pocket of my capacious shorts. Then a few moments later, as I was sitting on the wall round the Mere, trying to ignore the people up the hill feeding the ducks, I suddenly felt a small hand slip into mine.
Looking down, I'd seen this cherub of a child, all blonde hair and wide blue eyes.
He'd been about all of eight, or nine, maybe even ten. And, I couldn't help but smile.
His hand in mine felt so darn small and his eyes so wide and appealing.
"Aye thanks for keeping hold of him for me," said a voice from behind me.
`His Father, evidently,' I'd thought as he'd approached.
"No problem fella," I told him in answer. Then next second the boys hand had slid up my shorts, searching for something; and finding what he had, the boy turned to his Father, his hand now clutching me tight.
"He's wearing knickers," he said to the man who now stood to my right, who took his hand out of mine and, placed it into his.
The father, a slim man in a yellow jumper, looked up from his son to me, then grinned at the boy, "Well, so will you when we get home honey."
"Will I Daddy?" the boy had asked his father, one hand in his, the other on my rapidly growing erection.
"Uh huh babydoll," the fellow assured the lad, "we've Uncle Joe calling round later."
"Jo-Jo?" The boy queried and I'd smiled at the way he'd said it.
"I like Uncle Jo Jo, he plays nice!" The boy exclaimed.
"Come to the car and we'll have our juice and leave this man to his photographing," the man told his boy, then turned to me and said, "Nice to meet you."
I shook his hand, then watched both man and boy walk up the hill walk and across the road to their car, which they'd got into.
Then, as they settled down to drink their juice, I looked away from them and back towards the Mere to watch the ducks and the people feeding them.
And time passed by, until I had taken several pictures, counted a few clouds and then enjoyed two one-skin joints; and, suddenly I heard from their car, the sound of a phone ringing.
A few minutes passed by, then I heard their car door open and feet running across the tarmac, to where I sat on the wall, just watching the world go by.
"Mister, mister!" The young lad was calling out.
I turned my head to look down at the little lad, who looked at me smiling.
"Daddy says will you come and have a word, pwease, pwease?" I could see why he'd sent the boy across the talk to me; he was definitely persistent.
Swinging my legs round, I stood and walked across the road to the car where the fellow sat behind the wheel, staring at his phone.
He threw it to the passenger seat, opened the door and made to shake my hand, which I took, "Mind getting in to have a chat? I need your assistance."
"Huh?" I queried.
"My names Andrew and this is little Andrew," he said to me, indicating the lad, looking at me very closely.
"And erm, we need your help..." as he was speaking, Andrew was looking at the camera I held in my hand.
"And, if you don't mind getting in the car, I'll explain the rest, okay?" He finished.
I hesitated for a just a moment, then followed him back to his car, `After all,' I'd mused, what else do I have to so?'
I went round to the other side of the car, as the lad opened the door and got in the back of the car himself and then, I got in the car myself.
"So how can I help you?" I asked curiously.
"Well, it's like this," he started enthusiastically, "my lad was looking forward to his uncle calling round tonight. We were going to do a photoshoot and he was going to take the pics for Little Andrew. Now something's come up and he can't make it."
Looking down at my camera, I already had an idea where this was going.
"I watched you out there and you do seem to know what you're doing..." he continued, then finally paused.
"Yeah, I guess I do," I acknowledged.
"Well, you seem to get on okay with my son and myself," I said to me with a smile, which his son added to, as he looked at me from over the seat, where he looked at me, he chin on his crossed arms, that rested on the back of his father's seat: "My question is, do you have any time to do a set, for us?" He asked.
"Pwease mister?" The lad entreated, "I wanna play dress-up."
Once more, I was curious.
"Dress-up?" I queried.
Andrew, a slim fellow with strong looking face, just grinned.
"We have a small circle of safe friends and some of the young-uns like to play dress-up for us," he explained, "Joe was going to take some pictures for the group album. It's a big thing to some of the young-uns, like Little Andrew here."
And now, I was intrigued and I guess the fact that I was still there was all the assurance that Andrew Sr. needed, to carry on with his proposition.
His right hand reached out and gently squeezed my right thigh.
"I'll box you off a few quid for your time. And, maybe you'll get a thank you from Little Andrew when he's dressed up?" At that suggestion, he'd turned to his son, just inches from his face and kissed him softly on the lips, right in front of me.
Now the word intrigue was not applicable. I was aroused, surprised at myself. The kiss broke and Little Andrew turned to me and said, "I'd like that, maybe sit on your knee and we could kiss, like I'm your girlfriend, like I do with Uncle Joe and the others."
The phrase `the others' interested me and the hardening taking place inside my jeans told me that I was going to agree to go with them.
"Do tell me about your group?" I asked, filled with curiosity.
"Just a group of Fathers who appreciate their kids and share that with like-minded others," he informed me, not taking his eyes off the road.
And boy, did it sound interesting: yet, though I wanted to ask more, I didn't. Instead I chose to do as I'd done so far and go with the flow.
"So, I'll give you fifty pounds for the pics on a disc, when you're finished. Alright?" He enquired, still looking straight ahead.
And though the deal was good, Andrew could do better.
"I want to know I can get home, once we're finished," I told him, "After all, I was only out for the walk. I've no money on me, nor travel ticket."
And, there's quiet in the car a minute, except for that little Andrew is making in the back of the car.
"Okay," he drawled, taking a left turn; "you get your money today: and I'll take it on trust that I'll get the disc. Happy?" Happy? I get to produce imagery, through what I capture through my lens, and my lecherous eyes, and he asks if I'm happy!
"Does a bear shit in the woods?" I ask with a grin.
And, Andrew laughed, slowing the car at some lights at an intersection.
"Not far now," he told me, looking briefly into the rear-view mirror, to check on little Andrew.
The youngster was bouncing on the back seat, his hands on it's back, as he looked out of the window.
"He's good boy," the boy's Father said to me with a light smile on his face: "And boy, does he like playing to the camera lens!"
I couldn't help but grin on hearing this, as I began to turn my camera around and around, in my hands.
"This one can do short films," I said looking at its settings, to see how much life was left in the batteries: "It all depends on how much memory is left on the card."
I continued, "Bugger is, that it eats up the batteries. Yet that said, it does produce a good image."
"Nearly there Andrew," the driver told his son.
In answer, the lad turned round placing his hands palm down on the seat, between his thighs, as he dangled his legs, "Gonna play dress-up!" He announced suddenly to all present in the car.
"So what do you have in mind for him to wear?" I asked quietly, as he continued to demonstrate his childish exuberance.
"It's not a matter of what I choose," he clarified, "it's up to the young-un's to choose something themselves. And young Andrew is generally very specific about what he chooses..."
"Like what?" I asked, as he pulled off the road and onto a gravelled driveway.
"He likes to wear pretty things, lingerie, that sort of thing..." he told me, as he switched off the engine.
Abruptly he turned round in his seat and Andrew told his son, "We're home."
And beaming the widest of smiles, the young lad leaned in between the front seats, "Can I open up and go get changed Daddy?" he asked, his hands outthrust, waiting for the keys.
"Here boy," Andrew told him, placing a bunch of keys in his hand.
And, as the lad opened a car-door and Andrew turned to me with a light smile on his face: "He likes the games we play in fact, I'm sure that he'd play dress-up more often, if he could."
With one hand on the door handle, which he was about to open, Andrew added, "Me? I just think he learnt to enjoy his subbie-side, real early on."
Andrew got out of the car first and I'd followed him to the front door. Then entering the house, I found myself in a long hallway.
To the immediate left and right were rooms that had a view of the front of the house. The hall itself led off to other rooms; and a set of stairs, just beyond the first room on the right, which we entered.
I looked around the room, decorated mainly in deep reds and plush-looking gold features. There were two walls that were book-lined, a television against another, with a stereo-system and a p.c. to it's left.
And, the drinks cabinet of course, which Andrew steered straight for.
"What would you like?" He asked me with a warm smile.
`Besides young Andrew?' I mused but momentarily, before telling him, "Whiskey, straight, please?"
The fellow was quickly grinning at that.
"Uh-huh," he acknowledged, with a look on his face that suggested he could read minds. Or, was it the evident bulge in my jeans.
As it was, he handed me my drink, then said to me, "You said it could do films?"
Uh-huh? Back to planet Earth!!!
I'd been thinking of what Andrew had said, just prior to us entering the house, `...he learnt to enjoy his subbie-side, real early on.'
Just how old had he been? After all, he currently looked and acted like he was perhaps six or seven, maybe younger.
And, here I was, drinking with the Father of the young lad I was to photograph, as he dressed in lingerie. Well nearly: I accepted the whiskey and settled back into my seat and said to him, "Yes it does."
"Well, if thing's go as I'm hoping, maybe I'll do a short film for me?" He asked thoughtfully, as he took his own seat.
"Yeah, whatever you like. After all, it's your commission." I said to him with a smile.
"Whatever I like?" he said to me, salaciously licking his top lip. And, suddenly I was very aware that he was staring at the erection evident in my jeans.
And, I got harder still; while his eyes lifted upward to look to my face.
I returned his gaze, with a smile: and as I did so, Andrew reached forward with his free-hand and, with a certainty that surprised me, he caressed my left cheek.
"I almost wish it were just you and me," he said with a wink of his right eye.
And, as I began to deliberate on that one, Little Andrew knocked on the door before entering the room.
His Father turned to me with a smile reaching from ear to ear: "This should be interesting," he whispered, "like I said, he likes the lens; an showing off; an company; an wearing girly-clothes. I guess he's my little sissy, an I like it..."
We'd both sat in armchairs and, noticing that he'd turned to face the door, I did the same, quite intrigued now.
"Come in," Andrew called out.
And the door opened slowly: so it was quite apparent Little Andrew knew how to make an entrance.
But,' I reminded myself, this isn't his first time, posing like this...'
An there he stood, his right hand on his right thigh, the leg crooked forward; his left hand on his left hip, as he batted his mascara-coated lashes and, licked his top lipstick coated lips seductively.
If I'd not known who I was looking at, I'd have sworn it was a blonde Bridget the Midget, the diminutive porn-star.
First off was the make-up, which was looking good, but there was also a shoulder-length dark wig.
He wore a purple baby-doll, with matching panties; self-support hose, and high-heels. Grant you, the black heels weren't too high, but they were high heels.
And, watching him close the door and walk toward us I couldn't help but wonder how he'd become a practised wearing them.
He turned to look at me, with wide eyes, left hand on his left butt cheek, right hand on his bare right cheek, his toes turned inward.
Abruptly he turned and walked to his father, "I miss Jo Jo."
"C'mere baby girl," Andrew said, patting his thigh's.
Smiling, his arms out, little Andrew crawled up and straddled his fathers thigh's, as the fellow looked to me and the lad leaned forward and wrapped around his neck.
Then Andrew Sr. opened his thigh's, so as Andi leant forward, his bottom jutted out: and the little sissy, almost whimpered, as he buried his face into his Father's neck.
The fellow looked to me and smiled: "I told you he likes his Uncle Jo Jo. He likes the way he plays, with him."
I must've looked puzzled, as he then added; "He likes the way he plays, with him."
And, watching me study his movements, the man slid his hands up the nighty's hem and the back, then down his panties, to cup his pert, young buttocks, which he spread gently, easing the tip of his left thumb into the lads rosebud.
"He's already well-lubed," the man informed, as he slid the thumb in and out, ever so slowly and, the lad moaned aloud his frustration, pushing against the invaded digit, rocking his hops back and forth. It was like he was possessed, with lust.
"He wants more, than just this," the fellow informed me, then grinned: "why don't you take a few shots now and come give him what he wants?"
I took the camera out and lined it up for the shots that I thought he might like, but instead, I just let it run on as a film, as it was so arousing to see this man finger-fucking his squirming son, much to the lads delight.
And, after five minutes, I turned the camera off and set it down, safely, at the side of the chair and I stood, aware how aroused at the way the day had gone, since I'd first risen and changed into a fresh pair of panties, before getting on with my day.
I walked across the small space between our two chairs smiling but nervous, slowly undressing, until by the time I got to just behind young Andi I was naked, bar the lilac panties, with lace edging.
I've got a slim build and they looked good on me, I know that.
Obviously young Andi agreed, as he reached over grinning, saying to his father, "See Daddy, I told you he was wearing knickers!"
"Yes you did little one," Andrew told his little sissy, stroking the lad's hair with his left hand, as he reached across with his right hand and stroked the evident growth in my panties.
And, at first I didn't know how to react to his touch, but he was good enough to share his little sissy with me, so why not accept more what was going on. In fact, to quote one of my best friends, `Go with the flow.'
"C'mon fella," Andrew said to me, with a little impatience in his voice, "you know what he wants..."
And, as he spoke, the fella continued to ease his thumb in and out of his sissy-son's taut sphincter.
So I looked at Andrew, as I placed my hand on Andi's left shoulder, stroking gently. And as I did so, the lad turned round, placing his hand next to his Father's who sat back a little, with one arm round his neck still as his son held him, looking up to him with a wide, wide smile.
"Will he play with my like Unca Jo Jo?" He asked his Dad.
And, withdrawing his thumb from the lad's asshole, the fellow kissed his sissy spn's forehead lovingly and smiled at me, "Oh I'm sure he like playing with you, little `un."
The boy turned back at me, a wide smile on his face, as continued my caress: and I wanted to take him then and there, so inflamed was my passion; my need, for this sissy boy, more femme than some girls I've known.
And, I looked at his father, over his left shoulder, hoping he saw the question I asked with my eyes: `Can I fuck your son?'
And, as if he were reading my mind, the fellow withdrew his thumb, much to the lads disappoint: and he murmured in the boy's ear, "My friend here is going to make up for it."
`My friend here?' Did he not know my name? Here I was, about to take his son's ass and, the fellow didn't know my name. That just seemed wrong, somehow.
"My name's Robert," I told Andrew, leaning over his son's left shoulder, pressing my lips to his, as I cupped the lads small, pert buttocks in my hands.
Andrew took y face in his hands and returned the kiss with passion, while I used my left thumb, to ease the Andi's panties gusset aside once more.
And, as Andrew and I duelled tongues, I eased my right thumb into the lad's already well-lubed and well-used pucker and he had pushed against the penetration, groaning.
I eased the thumb in and out a little, then as Andrew's lips parted from mine, I stood a little, to look down and see what I was doing better. His pucker looked so inviting, widened around my thumb and, as I withdrew it I watched fascinated, as of held agape a few seconds before closing slowly.
And I held my shaft, directed it toward his ass-pussy, pressing the crown against his sphincter, pushing forward ever so-slowly.
"Oh-Daddy," the lad cried, pushing back against me, holding his Father tight; "He's filling me up.."
Andrew stroked his sissy-son's hair, as he trembled with pleasure, his face against the man's chest.
I drove in and out, looked down, at the lingerie-wearing sissy-boy, revelling the feel of his tight ass-pussy around me, as he tensed his muscles around my red-hot member.
"Man, he's good," I told Andrew, as the lad rocked back and forth, stocking-clad legs draped over his Father's thighs.
And lil Andi looked up to his Father, "Will Robert come visit again??"
The trembling in my thigh's dictated that I was to cum soon and knowing that I picked up speed, kinda jackrabbiting my thrusts into the small sissy-boy's pussy-ass that I was eager to fill.
Andrew reached over with his right hand and, caressing my cheek, smiled at his son and said to him softly, "Hunny, he can cum visit whenever you want to see him."
That was all I'd needed to hear; and suddenly I felt my thigh's trembling, that rippled down to my toes, such was the ferocity of my orgasm.
And I came hard, thrusting deep, shooting my seed deep into the young sissy's bowels and he lowed it, mewling with pleasure and holding his Father tight.
That was when Andrew had smiled the widest.
Then, breathing hard I withdrew my wilting, dripping shaft from the lads warm wetness slowly, causing him to groan with disappoint.
I stood back, breathing hard, my eyes flickering, as I tried to find my sense of balance once more.
"You know what to do baby," Andrew assured his sissy-son, his hair.
And scrambling down and onto all-fours, the sissy's eager tongue began to clean me as Andrew sat back smiling, fisting his erection, pumping it faster and faster.
His breathing was fast and rapid, eyes glazing over: then he began to climax, shooting his seed all over his belly.
So looking down, I ruffled Andi's blonde hair, much as his father had done, then said to him softly, "I think Daddy needs cleaning, now.."