("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._ `6_ 6 ) `-. ( ).`-.__.`) (_Y_.)' ._ ) `._ `. ``-..-' _..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,' (((' (((-((('' (((( K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N _________________________________________ WARNING! This text file contains sexually explicit material. If you do not wish to read this type of literature, or you are under age, PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! _________________________________________ Scroll down to view text Archive name: turner.txt (b/toddler, inc, oral, necro) Authors name: Todd Sayre (dream_writer_2001@yahoo.com) Story title : Turner's Fifteen Minutes -------------------------------------------------------- This work is copyrighted to the author © 2002. Please don't remove the author information or make any changes to this story. You may post freely to non-commercial "free" sites, or in the "free" area of commercial sites. Thank you for your consideration. -------------------------------------------------------- Turner's Fifteen Minutes (b/toddler, inc, oral, necro) by Todd Sayre (dream_writer_2001@yahoo.com) *** Little pervert Turner likes sex, any kind of sex. He'll fuck anything with a body, animate or inanimate. *** I never thought it would ever happen to me, but it did. Mom hooked up with her local pussy-of-the-month-club (That's what I secretly called the local "Woman's Club.") and they decided to have a cook-off. I imagined that some of those trophy wives would concoct some form of botulism that would turn everyone green. You see, my mom and dad are a part of the yuppie class where Mercedes, Lexus, BMW autos decorate their front lawns and degrees from the elite Harvard, Yale and Princeton class hug the walls of every home. If you weren't part of that club-scene you weren't human. Anyway, that's beside the point. What is to the point? The chance to be alone with my baby brother Jason. Mom had spent the better part of her day shopping for the cook-off buying all sorts of crap that would keep her busy-giving me time to have a little fun. "You'll have to watch the baby," she told me. "If I don't get this dish prepared the girls will just laugh at me!" Who gave a rat's ass? Mom is a brown-noser. She'll do anything to gain favor of people that would stab her in the back at first chance. But, like a fool, she follows close behind. My dad. What can I say about him? The prick is never home. He lives his life in the courts, therefore, as always, law is pure bullshit, so I won't bother you with his story. As for me, I'm Turner Boyd, son of Ruth and Harold Boyd. I'm thirteen-years-old with a dick that lusts after release and my lusts seems to grow more fierce by the day and my only way to quell my unhealthy urges is to sit on the john and yank my brains out. No matter how bad things may get, whether I'm in school or at home, once my dangling, hairless partner (for life) awakens, it needs a massage. It's fun to dream up scenarios where I get to do anything I want: rape, beat and perhaps even murder the victims in my mind; but always returning from the scene of the crime with no real victims and no manhunts for predators. But now that mom was up to her eyeballs in all kinds of food ingredients, I'd have my chance with my baby brother... and I don't mean in my mind's eye. Jason is about to turn one in a week, so his inability to squeal on me makes him perfect, and what's more, he'll never remember the good time he's gonna give me -- although it may only last just a few minutes. I figured it was better to do my little brother than some small boy or girl out on the streets. I'd been riding around on my bicycle looking at all the helpless little kids in my neighborhood and wondering what it would be like to take one of them. But I always stopped myself at the last minute. In order to make her dish (God only know what it'll be), mom needed black olives and when she went on her shopping trip, she forgot them. "I'll be back in a short bit," she had said. Well, that should be plenty of time to have a little fun with my baby brother, but not enough time to really let myself go. I know, I know. You're probably thinking to yourself, what the hell can you do in ten to fifteen minutes without getting caught? I could try butt-fucking Jason, but that would leave evidence of sperm and a swollen rectum... or I could cock-feed him and make him drink several squirts of my jizz. I'm sure Jason could handle my spunk in his belly with no ill effect. As mom backed her Lincoln sedan out of the drive, I fingered my bulging crotch. Even though my dick is uncut and small, it should be just perfect for Jason. The extra foreskin on it would make for a tantalizing treat in a baby's mouth. Babies love to suck anything that'll fit between their lips and I think my brother just might enjoy me inside him. Quite frankly, I would enjoy the fact that he would have some of my come in his belly. Once mom got home, she may just smile at her baby son who has just swallowed her eldest son's seed. Once the Lincoln was out of sight I wasted no time. Baby Jason lay quietly on the family room floor, squirming and cooing happily. I pulled my shirt off and unbuckled my belt, sliding my pants down to my knees, letting my stiff penis jut out. My cock already knew what I was going to do for it, so my little one-eyed fellow was eagerly awaiting, throbbing excitedly to my heartbeat. I leaned over my brother, positioning my groin over his head, then letting my cockhead touch the soft slippery lips of a willing baby. The moment my foreskin made contact with Jason's mouth, I shuddered in pleasant surprise. Jason took me into his small mouth and began sucking on me like a bottle, but he only had an eighth of an inch between his lips; that is until I started to apply a little pressure. I inserted as much of myself as I could-short of gagging or choking the little shit. That little mouth of his tightened on me, and I could feel a gentle, but soothing sucking coming from him. I began to thrust ever so slightly, allowing my flesh to just slip in and out fractionally until my lust grew. Jason seemed to be a great sport. He never fussed about having his big brother in his mouth, but once the feeling of perverted hunger began to overwhelm me I entered an altered stated where every sound or vision ceased, only the sensations between my legs mattered. Jason allowed the gentle rocking, but after a minute or two of thrusting my dick down Jason's throat, I began to feel the persistent need to rock in and out more aggressively. And the more aggressive I became, the more uncooperative Jason grew. I'm only glad the little bastard didn't have teeth, otherwise I'd be a tad more Jewish today. Once I got a rhythm going, I didn't stop. I fucked Jason's little mouth with such a sublime enthusiasm that even Jason's cry failed to reach my ears. I was breathing hard, gasping and moaning-my asscheeks clenching uncontrollably -- toes flexing and beads of sweat glistening in the diffuse sunlight entering from the window. I was in heaven with every thrust. I vaguely noticed that the force of my ramming hips was slowly pushing the baby forward, causing me to lose contact with Jason at times. Had I placed the little turd's head against the base of the couch or some other piece of furniture, Jason was apt to be bruised and the top of his skull redefined by my persistence. Every time he shifted forward, I followed. I simply kept up with him as I continuously filled his mouth (which was now emitting an angry shriek). The feeling was glorious. My little brother had no choice but to pleasure my loins. It was fun. It felt so right and so good. Jason cried as if I had just poured sulfuric acid over his face or something, but despite his displeasure, I continued fucking him until that tiny excess of cock- flesh started to gag him, making him spew digested milk. I would stop for a few seconds, cleaning the mess with my t-shirt, then entering him once more. I rammed my cock forward once more without caring, pushing as deep as I dared for several minutes, thrusting away in a crazed ecstasy, taking in the belly- shuddering reverberation that flowed through me, while reminders of my not-so-distant-past came to mind. * I bet you're wondering where I got this perverted little game from. To be honest, it didn't get etched upon my brain by my dad the lawyer or some horny uncle seeking some Saturday night thrills; instead it was my best friend Lucas. Lucas, a fairly decent student at Jefferson Jr. High, just couldn't settle the fire that was blazing in his pants. He was always talking to the guys about pussy or some ripe asshole belonging to some girl that he could poke, but I learned differently on one visit to his home. By the way... did I mention that Lucas's father is a mortician and that their house is above the mortuary? No? Silly me. I guess I'm so wrapped up in my own pumping perversion that I failed to mention Lucas to you all. Franklin Abbot (Lucas's dad) always had business once someone died. And it turned out that once his mom and dad and the little sister went to bed, Lucas would creep down the stairs into the embalming room where he would have some fun. On a late afternoon in the fall of that year, Lucas showed me what he enjoyed. I joined him in the basement of The Abbot Brother's Mortuary while everyone was away. His dad-that day I believe-was most likely out scraping up some poor bastard off Highway 74 just off the turnpike, or out picking up a stiff at the county hospital. I was totally scared when Lucas took me down the stairs and into the embalming room. There, under a white sheet, lay the body of a young girl no older than maybe five. Lucas showed me the file of her death: Drowning. The old rock quarry had claimed her-and she wasn't the first. She had been a cute blonde with blue lifeless eyes and a thinly form. Lucas pulled the sheet off of her and he spread her legs wide and said, "Watch this." Although grotesque... and sort of enticing, I watched Lucas climb up on the stainless steel table. He splayed her legs even wider exposing that dead girl cunt. It was a thin line of pink paleness. Lucas unzipped his pants-pulled down his boxers and exposed the stiffest cock I'd seen to date. I thought at one time that his dick would burst from the girth of his erection, but instead Lucas turned to me-grinning an evil grin-then turned to face that dead moppet on the slab and stuffed his cock into her and fucked her so hard that I was certain she would sit up and scream, but she didn't. He pounded her lifeless body with impunity until I could hear his labor making the cold steal table creak with every push of his body. Goddamn... if I were some moralist, I would have picked up the phone and dialed 911, but I am no moralist. Lucas taught me that sex, with anyone is fun, especially if they're dead. Lucas raped that dead girl and he didn't stop until he blew his load in her. After he was done, he offered me a chance to take the same ride, but instead, being a pussy about exposing my dick size for Lucas to make fun of, I passed on the offer. But I never forgot that incident. There were times when I spent the night at Lucas's house, waiting for THE RENT to fall asleep, so we could sneak down to the dead. Lucas and I made our way downstairs, passing two separate chapels on the way toward the basement. This time the corpse was a twenty-two-year-old male that had been killed riding a motorcycle. He'd broken his neck, which had been repaired with unpainted mortician's wax to hold everything at the right attitude. Since there had been no pussy to fuck, Lucas made use of the late Darryl Morgan's mouth, which had not been wired shut or cemented. He fucked that man stuffing his cock relentlessly in and out of his throat until he blew his wad and the sperm drained freely down the dead man's throat; then Lucas would work up another erection and repeat the adventure. Once my friend, a goodly boy of the school of necrophilia, finished squirting, he offered me a chance once more. Rather than stand by and watch, I decided to take a chance at being heckled. Why not? What would Lucas do? Run around school telling everyone that my cock is small and I have no hair around my nuts? Fuck no. I don't think he would. After all, everyone in school would truly believe me if I told how Lucas Abbot liked to fuck dead bodies in his father's embalming room. I could spell out the entire ordeal if push came to shove, but it didn't. I boldly climbed onto that cold table and took my position over the late Darryl Morgan and allowed my cock to slide between his cold lips. I jerked in terror when those lips and teeth took hold of me that I nearly fell off that body and table; nearly shitting my pants in the process. Lucas had pressed the dead man's jaws together to give me the feel of a real blowjob. After recovering from the scare and continued on, I must say that it was rather convincing having Lucas pushing those lips together. I stuffed that corpse's mouth all the way, riding him in uncertain jerks, but once my lust grew, I was oblivious of Lucas and I was now confident that he or the late Mr. Morgan would not give me grief over my size. I began thrusting with confident fervor, focusing on the darkened embalming room wall ahead of me, and forgetting all about my best friend beside me, who was making Mr. Morgan's mouth wrap around my flesh. It was weird as hell, being on top of a dead man, shoving my cock into his mouth, having his cold, dead lips sliding around my shaft. I don't know how long I was thrusting into that body, but the feeling of pleasure killed the fear that I had, and not even Lucas could pry my concentration from the glory I was experiencing. I pumped fast and ruthless, never caring once at my reckless speed. I banged away: thrusting, hammering, pounding until I discovered that I was capable of actually producing an intermittent streams of sperm. I could feel the pearly strings hitting the congealing pool that was already backing up in Morgan's throat. It was like pissing in his mouth. I went full force, thrusting and fucking non-stop until Lucas had to pull me off that corpse. When I finally was forced to stop, I realized that Darryl Morgan's mouth was flooded and trickles of semen leaked from the corners. I had enjoyed it so much that I fucked that corpse without noticing an hour had gone by and that my friend had watched me while he masturbated. To this day, I still can't believe that I enjoyed sex with the dead. Since then, I made frequent stops at the Abbot house and sometimes I'd score, and other times I went home unsatisfied; only to jerk-off to the fantasy. Nevertheless, Lucas taught me that no matter who or what, fucking was priceless. Whether it was your family dog or a little brother or sister: all provided great satisfaction. Since those days of sex with the dead, I've had dreams (both day and night) of getting laid by a body or a real person, and now that mom had to run to the market, Jason was my first, live source. * I rammed much the way I had fucked the dead bodies of the past, thrusting without care into my little brother's mouth, shoving my organ deep, stifling his cries until the orgasmic urge continued to assault me, but each time I nearly came, I withdrew-making sure that I would save my climax for the grand finale. I pumped Jason's face, breathless with each barrage of my hips, determined to unleash the hell from my balls and just as I could hear the sound of mom's Lincoln pulling back into the driveway, my cock began to pulse; the tingling of electricity surging through my dick so fierce that when the sperm came flowing into Jason's mouth, the front door opened. It would have been worth getting caught just to feel warm lips (for a change) around my dick, really sucking me off. Mom walked into the house carrying a bag of groceries. She didn't bother to inquire about us, so I allowed my cock to deliver the creamy-white fluid into my baby brother while mom laid the bag on the kitchen counter, and I continued on. The strings of life spurted out like string cheese, coating Jason's tongue and throat. It was fantastic. Every squirt that shot into him was shoved down into his throat, but as the last of my orgasm faded, I pulled myself out of Jason and I grabbed my clothes. Jason made a furious clamor when he managed to work the gooey come down; then again, Jason always bawled for the tiniest of reasons. I had enough time to get dressed and to pick the little spawn up-making it look like I had been trying to quiet the little bastard down. It was close. Just as I picked him up, mom walked in, "Is everything alright?" "It sure is." I said. "I guess he didn't like the milk he got." "Really?" She said. She picked up Jason's plastic bottle, unscrewed the top, and then smelled it. "Smells alright to me. Maybe he's just full." "Maybe he needs to be burped," I said. If only mom knew that the baby had just had a meal of brotherly DNA, she'd freak. Oh well. Mom is a fucking egghead. She never had a clue. I guess that's in my best interests. Hopefully, in the coming days, mom and dad will trust me to watch Jason for longer spells, allowing me to have better pleasures; and I'm quite sure Jason will get used to the flavor of my seed. Maybe next time I'll piss down his throat and take a shit on his face. That would be interesting. Of course, I'd have to wipe the shit from that cute face, but the mere thought of what I could do would later send me to the bathroom where I would unload more sperm on the cool tile floor. It makes me think back to an old quote where Andy Warhol said, "Everyone has fifteen minutes." Today, I had mine, and as of this hour, in mom's arms, Jason is being patted on the back, burping the sperm that he swallowed. I'm glad it was mine. I can hardly wait for the next time I have Jason, and I hope that it's soon. For now, I'll have to visit Lucas Abbot's home until my babysitting services are required, but until then, I'll be thinking hard about my next fifteen minutes. The End Comments to: dream_writer_2001@yahoo.com *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* The author does not condone child abuse, this story is meant as an erotic fantasy not "real life." Anyone acting out such scenarios in "real life" can look forward to many unproductive years getting it up the butt by a fellow convict in their local prison. *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* Kristen's collection - Directory 20