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Many thanks to readers who've contacted me with kind words and story suggestions! I'm listening to you! This chapter is longer than others, and has suggestions from three readers (thank you RS, DS and SS), including one really HOT suggested scene with Jonas.
I have more chapters in the works, and I'll post more as I get the chapters edited and into shape. Special thanks to those readers who describe how the characters and what they do affect them and provide material for hot bate sessions. This kind of detailed feedback really gets my imagination in gear!
While elements and scenes in this story are based in reality, all of the characters and activities herein described are 100% fictional, and the story is 100% mine - please don't reuse without permission. Constructive comments are welcome at RILOBO1@yahoo.com
Melting Pot - Chapter 16 by Rilobo1
Morning came far too soon. NPR news stirred me at 6:30 AM as usual. I was in a warm dreamscape where I was holding a beautiful man -- who smelled like a man should! What a blessing it was to come to full consciousness and discover that my dream had come true. My nose was nestled just behind his neck at his hairline, and the scent of his hair and skin was the stuff of legend. My arms tightened around his chest, and my fingers began tracing the borders of his chest fur, and gently rubbing his taut nipples. Ah, those nipples; brown, about the size of a quarter, perpetually taut, and rising in the center to a beautiful peak. While I was gently rubbing each of them in turn, they became erect enough to pluck like a guitar string. I did pluck one gently, and Atul emitted a soft moan, and while still asleep, pushed his entire body back into me. My cock began rising to attention, and Atul lifted his right leg high enough to allow it to nestle itself against his scrotum before he let gravity bring his leg down again, forming a tight, warm place for me. Curious, I drew the fingers on my right hand down his chest, below his navel, through his light treasure trail, to find his hard root nestled in his bush. My fingers continued their travels from the root up his shaft to the tip -- which was already gathering moistness. With my thumb and forefinger, I gently peeled back his foreskin, and my forefinger then began to gently orbit his coronal ridge, taking the occasional detour to the tip of his glans to collect more of his moisture. I prayed for time to just simply stop
Atul must have come to consciousness at some point, as he turned his upper body and head around a bit somewhat face me and said "Is this how you plan to wake me up each morning for the rest of our lives?" He then twisted back around into full little spoon position, and press his back against my chest. My left arm was under his neck, and he grabbed my hand, lifting it up to his lips, gently kissing and sucking on my fingertips. Using his right foot, he hooked my right ankle, and pulled it between his legs. We stayed in that position for a few minutes until all my overworked senses could no longer take it: I had to worship him again. Still, I knew in the back of my mind that we needed to intercept Jason and Alex before the bus came to let them know Atul would be living with me before the neighbors noticed; this would have to be a quick act of love. I pulled back, pulling him down to lie on his back, and twisted around so that I was between his legs. Replacing my orbiting index finger with the tip of my tongue, I focused on my object of worship: his glorious, purple, plum sized cockhead.
Sunlight was now streaming through the blinds and illuminating what was there in my face. After a few orbits with my tongue, I pulled away to visualize its beauty; his glans was round -- nearly spherical, purple, and shiny with moisture. The ridge flared slightly all the way around it before dropping down to meet the bronze shaft, coming around to join the valley rising up to his urethral slit. A thin membrane of his lighter colored frenulum draped down from the bottom of the valley, and flared on each side, gradually darkening in color and eventually joining his now tightly skinned back foreskin. Yes. Confirmed. I was in love.
I looked up to his face: he was intently focused on everything I was doing to him, and I was pretty sure that he wasn't breathing either. I established eye contact with him, and he gasped in a breath. Giving him the most lustful of grins I could muster, and keeping eye contact, I put my lips at the tip of his cockhead, and established at tight vacuum seal. My tongue dipped into his piss hole, and started digging around in it. As if I were trying to rape it with my tongue, I pulled the tip of my tongue into as tight a point as I could, and ravaged it. Atul started breathing quite rapidly, and grabbed both my forearms in his hands, holding them firmly down on the mattress. Then, I slid my lips all the way down and around his glans, and very, very gently latched my teeth on the bottom of his ridge, my lips establishing an even tighter vacuum around his shaft just below his corona. His glans, entirely inside my teeth, was being softly and slowly bathed and caressed 360 degrees around it by my tongue, which tasted the ever increasing amount of delicious, sweet pre-cum he was producing. Atul was still staring into my eyes; his breathing was rapid and shallow, but he was able to whisper "I love you so much." My response? I carefully tightened my teeth around his ridge, and began an aggressive tongue lashing of the thing I was most focused upon.
The moment didn't last long: Atul broke eye contact when his eyes rolled back inside his head. He screamed my name loudly, and his plum sized glans grew in size to what felt like a peach, blasting everything his nuts had produced in his sleep into my mouth. I was ready for it this time, and began guzzling his seven or so volleys of his essence down. I was in heaven too! After a minute or too, his body started to relax, and his knees fell to each side a bit. His cockhead also decreased back to normal size, allowing me to safely retract my teeth from it (it had totally filled my mouth, and I'd have scraped him badly had I tried to remove it before then!) Keeping my lips sealed around it, I pulled back up to the tip, maintaining enough suction to clean all the saliva, pre-cum, and semen still there. A few more kisses and swipes of the tongue on the piss slit, and I detached from it. I giggled a little bit when the random thought came into my head: like Smeagol in the "Lord of the Rings", I had found "my precious" LOL. With his knees spread a bit, his scrotum, and the tasty valleys on both sides of it where it met his thighs were prominently displayed. I felt it was incumbent upon me to give praise to both of his nuts, having produced in such abundance for me. I nuzzled them, kissing them both, as well as the valleys in his crotch, before pulling up and rising to my knees in front of the altar of Atul. God! This man is beautiful. I looked into his eyes, rocked forward on my hands and knees to come face to face with him. I kissed his lips gently, and uttered something that I hadn't uttered in ten years: "Baby, I love you, and it is just one of the ways I plan to wake you up each morning of our lives."
That was a perfect moment in time. However, there were so many things that we would have to sort out to make this work. Most critical of these were getting him ready for work, catching Jason and Alex before school, figuring out next steps, and of course, getting Jonas registered for school. My face still hovering over his, I told him that we'd need to catch the boys this morning, adding "I do adore how you smell right now, but your co-workers probably wouldn't. Go get your things, put them in our bathroom," (I did very much enjoy saying OUR bathroom) "and let's take a quick shower." I leaned back so that he could pivot around to get up. He swung his left foot up and around, but I caught it in my hands as it passed my face, and gave each perfect toe a little kiss before letting him get upright on the floor. He went to retrieve his bag, and I went into the bathroom to warm up the water and clear the right hand side of the sink for his stuff. He put down his toiletry bag, and climbed into the shower with me. We lathered each other up, and very soon my erection raised its ugly head. Without a word, Atul got down on his knees, and for the first time, took my cock into his mouth. The thought of this being his first time with an adult male -- and his utter willingness to please me without either of us asking, soon got my nuts boiling. His technique was primitive, but there was love behind it. Like I had to him before, he focused on my cut cockhead with suction and his tongue. It wasn't long before I had to warn him to pull off -- but he wasn't having any of that; he grasped my hips firmly, and doubled down on his ministrations while taking my cock even deeper. I shouted at him that I was cumming, but he was determined. When I came, he seemed to choke a bit, and some leaked out, but like a trooper, he swallowed most of it. He looked up at me and grinned, saying "Baby, I love you too."
All the hormones now fully out of the way, we finished, brushed teeth, dressed, had some tea and yogurt, and were standing outside the apartment ready for the great horde to show up -- which they both did just seconds later. We pulled them into the house, and without much preamble I told them the brief story of what happened: Atul had left Rana last night, wanted a divorce from her, and would be living with me until everything got sorted out. The reaction was unexpected: both boys jumped up into his arms, nearly knocking him off his feet. They both kissed his cheeks repeatedly before Alex slid off Atul, and jumped up into my arms and giving me a big smooch. Through the cracked open door, I heard the bus's engine down the street, and grabbed both boys, pushing them out the door. They started walking to the bus stop, but Alex started singing "Ding dong the witch is dead", to which Jason, on cue, echoed "Which old witch?" Alex answered "The Rana witch" before grabbing each other by the hand, and continued singing their new anthem out loud while skipping to the now arriving bus. Thoroughly amused, I quickly turned to Atul, ready to explain the cultural reference from the "Wizard of Oz" to him, but he was nearly doubled over in laughter. I quickly closed the door and looked at him: I had never seen him laugh, and this was just a beautiful sight -- just fucking beautiful -- when laughing, he had two dimples. He stopped laughing long enough to respond to what must have been a curious expression on my face: "We have movies in India too, you know. We've all seen "The Wizard of Oz". So, I started laughing too, and took him into my arms. He's beautiful when he laughs. I must make him laugh as much as possible.
All too soon, the world rudely intruded on another perfect moment when Atul's phone began playing some Bollywood musical number. He looked at me and said it was his father's ringtone. I pulled him around to the couch to sit, as he answered the phone. I held his hand as he talked. I could hear two male voices speaking over each other, as Atul attempted to speak back. I grabbed a notepad and pencil from the side table, and wrote "Speakerphone? Rana's father too?" He just nodded in affirmation; it sounded like the shit was really starting to storm when two shrill female voices joined the cacophony. I wrote "both mothers?" and he nodded again. The "conversation" (for lack of a better word) lasted for about 30 minutes when I finally wrote out "tell them you have to go to work". Atul nodded, and then shouted something loudly into the phone, and there was a bit of silence on the other end. Atul then uttered something else, and disconnected the call. He just hung his head low, and took a few deep breaths before looking at me and saying "I'm so sorry. It's going to be so complicated and very ugly. They will all be here by the end of the week. I cannot force all of this upon you." To which, I grabbed both of his strong hands into mine, put my forehead to his, looked into both his eyes, and responded "I love you. I'm going to be beside you to support you, behind you to keep pushing you, and in front of you to defend you. I and at least two little ones will be with you through everything, and I'm not sorry about that." He pulled back a bit, stared into my eyes for a few seconds, smiled, and then very gently kissed the tip of my nose, and then my lips. Perfect moment restored.
We pulled apart, and Atul told me he would not be coming home during lunch, as he needed time to quickly find a divorce attorney. Fortunately, my college roommate and still good friend Neal Turner is one of the better family law attorneys in Atlanta, so I told Atul I know one, and would call and make an appointment for him today. Neal and I go way back -- and he owed me a couple of big favors: he'd make it happen. Atul's expression changed immediately, and it looked as if a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. I continued: "As for everything else we will have to go through, we will take it all one day at a time, together. You. Will. Not. Go. Through. This. Alone, my love, but now you are really about to be late for work. Take the car." He grabbed his keys, gave me another kiss, and left for work, pretty much like the stereotypical straight couple in black and white sitcoms.
Despite everything, it was a nice morning. I made myself another cup of tea, and brought my laptop out onto the veranda to work from there. I quickly checked my email again, and found only one easily and quickly answerable question from a client in Germany. That completed, I grabbed my phone and called Neal. He answered on the third ring, and the banter started immediately, ie: "Hey old buddy! How's it hangin' ?" We caught up a bit, and soon was inquired into my love life, asking if I'd finally found a man -- this was part of every conversation we'd ever had since a year after Pete had died 20 years ago. Neal was as straight as they come -- perhaps too straight -- with a string of former "Mrs. Turners" behind him, hence his acclaim as a divorce attorney. Anyway, Neal, Pete and I were all buddies at the University of Georgia. We were all neighbors in the dorms our freshman year, and roommates when we decided to rent an apartment together for the rest of our years in college.
Pete and I had already become a couple and shared a bedroom, but Neal had a nonstop string of visiting girls (Pete called it "the pussy parade"), so we just let him have the other bedroom to himself. For a straight boy, Neal was incredibly bright and in tune with other people's emotions. He was the first to pick up the fact that Pete and I were starting to grow close together, and just matter-of-factly told us one night to admit it to ourselves and be happy. Neal also had no problem showing affection -- especially after a few beers -- cuddling with us on the couch, or giving us hugs and saying "Love ya!" when leaving the apartment, or ending a phone call: we always responded "Love ya back!" He'd immediately end a phone call after "Love ya back!" -- we guessed that he never wanted any additional words to sully the sentiment. Even drunk, Neal never crossed the line between affection and attraction, but if he had, Pete and I might have been tempted. When it came to it, he had always been a true and trusted friend. If it hadn't been for Neal, I wouldn't have survived Pete's death... but that's another story.
Neal immediately picked up on the few seconds of silence after asking if I'd found a man. "You have, haven't you! Spill! I'm stuck in traffic at `Spaghetti Junction Atlanta" (google it.... It's a nightmare), and have loads of time!" I told him that my "new man" is the reason I was calling him, and that we needed help. I gave him a detailed summary of things (without the sex scenes, of course), that the families were flying over in days, that time was of the essence, and asked if he could meet with Atul today. Neal didn't waste a second, and asked if 1:00 PM would be good, and asked if they could meet at Kathmandu restaurant (Neal likes Indian food too). I told him that would be perfect, and thanked him a thousand times. Neal's response? "You'd have to be out of your mind if you think I'd turn down a chance to meet the man who is fixing your heart after all these years. I'm on this buddy. Just tell him to be there at 1:00. I'll call you afterward and let you know my thoughts. Gotta go! Love ya!" Me: "love ya back!" OK. I love two men, but one of them is terribly, over-the-top, abundantly straight.
After the call, I heard the balcony door open above. This was new behavior for Rana, who never ventured outside. Before long, I heard a loud, shrill utterance. I'm no speaker of Telugu, but it was plain that what I heard was cursing. Soon, articles of clothing and other things began to rain down upon the lawn and shrubs outside. She was tossing out Atul's things! Bitch! I grabbed my phone and opened Google Translate, entering a few quick sentences, and then stepping out onto the lawn. Knowing that in the 21st century, if it isn't on video, it didn't legally happen, I made a video of her antics -- it may come in useful later. Just then, both Carla and Halmoni popped their heads out to see what the screeching was all about -- they kept their windows open in nice weather, and certainly heard the noise. I shouted up to Rana: "Noru muyandi, Miru astini nashanam chestunaru. Apu, leda nenu mim'malni arestu cheamani polisulanu pilustanu." -- or something like that -- I didn't know for certain if I'd told her "Evil woman, you are destroying property. Stop, or I will call the police to arrest you," or had given her a recipe for curried goat. Whatever she heard, it had the desired effect. She clasped her hand to her breast, gasped, and stumbled back into the apartment, and slamming the door. Silence reigned once more.
Halmoni was the first to speak. Just a simple utterance: "am kay", with a spitting action upward toward Rana. I had learned a bit of Korean over the past few months, and knew that this meant something like "bitch". Then Halmoni surprised me, saying in English "She bad wife, very bad. Atul good man, need good wife," whereupon she went about collecting some of the clothes and items that were now scattered all over the place. Carla had disappeared, but very soon came down with an empty laundry basket. She looked at me and said "That woman is awful. Atul is so very kind, and treats everyone -- especially the boys -- with such kindness. He deserves someone better than that Puta. I hope he can get away from her." Strong words indeed. Carla and I joined Halmoni in collecting Atul's things, and putting them into the laundry basket. Carla wondered aloud what we should do with his things, so I went ahead and broke the news, telling her that Atul would be staying with me for a while until things got sorted out, and that both sets of parents would be visiting soon, and it is likely to be uncomfortable for everyone.
Halmoni looked at me and said. "Good. I tell her mother and father that her daughter is horrible woman. Richie (in Korean, syllables cannot end in a "ch" sound, so my name is pronounced "Richie") You take care Atul. He should take a rest. You need food, Halmoni cook." She had a twinkle in her eye. Damn, Halmoni had understood everything Carla and I had said in English -- sly old girl! She'd been pretending not to understand, and had certainly been taking very good notes. I'd have to warn Jason and Alex! Halmoni finished with "Richie, remember please. I no speak English," and gave me a conspirators' wink and smile. I responded with "Halmoni, I hae hess soyo" (Grandmother, I understand). She smiled and went back inside. Carla and I just looked at each other, and broke out in laughter. I took Atul's stuff back inside "our" apartment, dumping them into "our" laundry basket, the shift in possessive pronouns giving me a reason to smile. Giving Carla her basket back, she said "I echo what Halmoni said. If you or Atul need anything, please let us know." I love the little Melting Pot we live in.
I gave Atul a quick call and told him details about his appointment with Neal (he was elated), as well as a summary of the last few moments with his dear wife (he wasn't surprised), and thanked me for getting his things. The call was quick -- he had to get to a meeting, so I just said "Nenu ninnu premistunnanu" (take a guess what that means), and he said "I love you too" before disconnecting. A quick glance at the clock told me it was 9:02 AM -- and that Juergen and Jonas were (gasp!) late, just as I heard the knock at the door. I opened the door with a bemused expression on my face, and taking an exaggerated glance at my wristwatch. Juergen just chuckled a bit, and told me that they were "trying to acclimate to American culture." We all laughed, and I asked them to sit down, and offered coffee since we weren't on any particular time schedule -- as long as we got there sometime in the morning, all would be well. Juergen accepted the coffee, and while we chatted, I went about brewing a small pot, and getting some juice for Jonas. Juergen started the topic for discussion rather directly, telling me, in a nutshell -- that Jonas was particularly anxious about starting school in America, and the reason why they were late is that Juergen had to give Jonas "Sonderhandlung" both last night and this morning to calm him down. I brought the coffee, milk & sugar, and juice on a tray to the coffee table, and then asked Jonas if he felt better about school now. Jonas looked down and toed the floor with his shoe. His body posture told me that he was still feeling some anxiety, and then he confirmed it. "I feel a lot better now that papa gave a treatment to me, but I'm still not feeling good about it." Between sips of the beverage of choice, I asked him what would make him feel better, and his simple answer was "Sonderhandlung". Juergen then spoke up: "son, I love you so much, but I cannot do it again so soon. I wish I could help you. Perhaps you could ask Mr. Rich to help you right now? " Jonas just looked up at me pleading with those ice blue eyes, and said "would you please fuck me Mr. Rich?"
This was turning out to be another record day.
I told Jonas to go into the guest room and get ready -- he knew where everything was. Jonas ran off, and Juergen and I finished our coffees. Juergen told me that he knew what an odd imposition all this with his son was, and apologized to me again. I told him that I and Atul were happy to help the little guy out whenever he needed it, and that he shouldn't worry about it at all. Juergen then surprised me when he started telling me about what a wonderful time he had yesterday. It seemed he especially liked being fucked by Atul (no surprise there). He confessed that he asked Atul to stop fucking him because he was in danger of having an incredibly intense, hands-free orgasm just from the fucking, and didn't want his son to see it. He went on to say that what he was feeling from Atul's cock was so intense, that he was afraid he would lose his mind had he continued. I just had to laugh at that, and admit that I knew exactly what he was talking about! However, I told him that no matter how powerful the feeling was, it wouldn't kill or otherwise destroy him, and that the next time Atul fucked him, he should just go with it, and Juergen said that he was considering it.
About that time, Jonas called out and announced that he was ready. I stood up, but Juergen grabbed my hand and asked if it would be ok for him to watch the Sonderhandlung. Of course, I had no problem. We both walked into the guest bedroom to see Jonas naked, on his back, with his legs and feet splayed wide. He had placed a beach towel underneath him (good boy!) His skin was so white and unblemished that the obvious pink and red puffiness around his pussy stood out like a neon sign on a whorehouse. I quickly undid my pants and dropped them halfway down my legs in my approach to him, but Jonas stopped me, asking me to please take off all my clothes. I did as requested, and approached him again. I rubbed his pussy with a finger, and then my cockhead, testing the tension and lube -- there was little to no resistance, and I'm pretty sure I felt a bit of his father's sperm mingled in there with the silicon. He said that he was really stretched out and relaxed, and that he needed to be "durchgeknallt" (pounded). Borrowing from Atul's toolbox, I intertwined my fingers into Jonas' toes as well as I could, stretched out his legs, aligning his pussy, lined up my cock, and pushed forward, all the way in. Jonas whispered "jaaaaaaaa" all the way through the initial penetration. Jonas closed his eyes almost shut, and became a lot more vocal than he had been yesterday. "Oh yeah, Mr. Rich. Fuck me. Yeah! Harder! Faster! Stretch my little pussy more! It needs it! Try to pick me up with your dick! Stretch me!"
Good God in heaven. What was going on here? I did as requested, and pulled my body up vertically, which would have the effect of lifting him up off the mattress were my cock able to take that kind of strain. He snapped his eyes open and stared directly at me, saying "Ja! Ja! Ja!" and telling me that was exactly the kind of scratching his pussy needed right now. I looked up at Juergen, whose eyes were riveted on the intersection of my cock and his son's expanding pussy. Looking down at Juergen's pants, I could see the telltale bulge of an erection building. I pulled my cock out for just a second to witness the effect of this stretching, and couldn't believe my eyes: there was an angry, red, wet, huge gape. Sticking my cock back into him, there was no resistance. I raised up again, and started pounding and stretching him more. Jonas then surprised us both, telling his father to take off his clothes and help me. Juergen, without a word, complied with the directive, and once naked, was instructed to stick a finger inside his pussy along with my cock which was still pounding his pussy. His little cock was so hard. If it were any harder, it would've exploded.
One finger soon became two, then three. The little Teutonic cockwhore was actively opening himself up for something. Then suddenly, Jonas detached from us both and stood on the bed. He instructed me to lay down with my head toward the foot of the bed, and his father to lay down with his head toward the head of the bed. I could see where this might be going. He arranged us so that our cocks were about a foot apart, our legs spread with my right leg over Juergen's left leg, and his right leg over my left one. The tyke then deftly stood with a foot on either side of us, and squatted down on his father's shaft, impaling himself as deeply as he could. He rose up and fell back down five times before removing himself, shifting back, and impaling himself on my shaft. Five more trips up and down, and he changed to his father's penis. This went on for some time, as he each few shifts tugged on one or the other of us to get our penises closer together until both mine and Juergen's scrotum were squished together. He took a moment to re-lube both our dicks. I was wondering if Jonas would actually do what I suspected he wanted to do.
Sure enough. Jonas wiped his hands on the towel and grabbed the poppers. He took three huge hits, all the while riding my cock, capped the bottle, reached below him to pull both our cockheads together and with a combination of moan and scream, sat on both of them... at the same time. His eyes bulged. His face turned red -- as did his entire upper torso, and all of a sudden, both our cocks were inside him. I couldn't believe it. His pussy lips slid slowly over both of our cocks all the way down. He rested there for a few moments, and I could feel his muscles trying to adapt to this new experience. A few moments later, he tentatively raised himself up about half way, and then sank back down. Practicing this for a few more times, he got the poppers, gave them to his father, who huffed three times, handed them to me for a few huffs, and then took four huge hits himself before capping the bottle, lowering himself onto us, and screaming "FIIIIIICK MIIIIICH!!" Both Juergen and I thrust up into him independently. It was obvious that we would not be able to thrust in simultaneously, so we alternated: my in-stroke on Juergen's out-stroke, and vice versa. Jonas' weight was enough to keep both of us inside him, and we were certainly not able to thrust in fully, but clearly, both of our cocks were in deep enough to shatter the young prostate with double punches every half second.
All incredible things must come to an end, and this was one of the best endings ever. Jonas's pussy began twitching within a minute of the start of the pounding. I took the poppers for another quick hit, and passed them on to Juergen. We were approaching the finish line neck-and-neck, when suddenly, Jonas, dropped his full weight onto the both of us, effectively preventing us from making an in-stroke. His whole body then started convulsing, and the pussy contracted on both our cocks. Both his father and I were focused on Jonas' cock, which was hard as an iron spike, the angry little head straining to get free of its tight foreskin. Immediately, it spat out two forceful little squirts of mostly clear boycum. This was enough for Juergen, and I felt his cock pulse and felt his cum splash against my cockhead inside his son. I exploded at that moment too, and due to the fact that Jonas' pussy was unable to form a seal around both cocks at the same time, we both felt a deluge of cum drain from the boy's pussy, onto our scrotums, and down onto the beach towel. Another item for the laundry.
Jonas sat paralyzed on the two cocks inside him, and fought to regain his breath. When he was once again able to speak, he thanked us both for making his secret dream come true, and said that he was completely ready to go to school now. He raised himself up and freed our cocks. Juergen then went into full concerned father mode, and turned his son over to inspect his hole, making sure there was no damage. I too took a look at the absolutely wrecked, floppy hole in front of us. Jonas then started clenching his sphincter together, and soon, it retracted back to being a red, puffy, but otherwise functional anus. He'd feel this for a few days, but otherwise seemed ok. I got up and got towels and wet-wipes, and we cleaned ourselves up, got dressed, tidied the room, and soon were headed out to Indian Creek Elementary School with a very happy and cheerful little boy in the back seat.
On the ten minute drive (two minutes without traffic) to the school, I filled them in on what was going on with Atul, and told them that he'd be staying with me for a while. Jonas smiled at that idea, but the funniest look came over Juergen's face. That, and the way he wiggled his ass around in the car seat much in the same way Jonas did when he felt the "itch" yesterday, brought me to think that Juergen was nearly ready to get pounded to pieces by Atul. Jonas' sexual needs were behind him for now, and his questions were rather mundane: how he would get to school, how many kids would be in his class, what grade he would be in etcetera. I answered what I could, but did mention that both Alex and Jason would be there to help him navigate things. That seemed to set his mind even more at peaceful bliss. When we got to the school, we walked into the office and asked to see whomever was in charge of registering new students. We only had to wait a few minutes until we were given temporary visitor ID badges, explaining briefly the security policies of the school (Juergen appreciated hearing them) and brought in to the office of a Mr. Wilson, a young, black (possibly mixed race?) man with a disarming smile and a firm handshake. I'm sure Juergen very much appreciated that as well.
Mr. Wilson engaged Jonas in conversation immediately, letting the boy know that his opinions and assistance in the process of onboarding was very much needed and appreciated. We set about the process of registering Jonas, and sure enough, every document needed was immediately handed over. Juergen and Jonas were in the United States under an "L1" intercompany transferee visa, which would make everything much simpler. Mr. Wilson noted that children of those on an "L1" visas were automatically given every school benefit the State of Georgia made available to the children of its own citizens. After looking at Jonas' educational records, Mr. Wilson estimated that the fifth grade would be the appropriate placement for him. That prompted me to ask if it were possible for Jonas to be in the same class as Jason Cho and Alejandro Ramirez, as they were his new neighbors and friends. I noted that if so, it would ease Jonas' transition into school in the US. Mr. Wilson beamed a wide smile, and said "Jason and Alex, also known as "frick and frack"! Hahaha. I love those kids to pieces, but they are in an advanced class with enriched activities," (no surprise to me, clever little buggers) "Let me check Jonas' records and scores against our central database, and see if he qualifies. Mr. Wilson turned to his computer, entering data from Jonas' educational evaluation as Jonas sat bouncing up and down in his chair in anticipation. In short order, Mr. Wilson turned back around and told Jonas "well, it certainly seems like you are qualified for the advanced class, and that since it was advanced, there were empty seats in it. Jonas yelled a little "YAAAY!" Mr. Wilson asked Juergen if he'd like me to be listed as a responsible contact who could be called and be able to pick Jonas up from school, and Juergen readily agreed. I handed over my driver's license so that Mr. Wilson could enter it. That being completed, Mr. Wilson asked Jonas if he was ready to go meet his new teacher: Jonas nodded an enthusiastic "yes" in response. We were told we needed to wait about five minutes until 11:00 AM when a break from classes was scheduled. In the meantime, Mr. Wilson told Jonas he'd be riding bus number 14 to school, and gave him a paper that he should give to the bus driver on his first trip.
At 11:00 AM, Mr. Wilson walked us down to the classroom, and introduced Jonas to his teacher, Miss Phelps. She welcomed Jonas, and introduced him to the class, whereupon the horde (Alex and Jason) let out a huge "WHOOP!" Miss Phelps just wagged a finger at them with a smile, and both boys quickly settled down. Miss Phelps then handed Juergen a list of supplies Jonas would need, and told him that the Local Target store in Tucker would have everything on that list. Miss Phelps then started pulling out Jonas' new books and software he'd need. Jonas expressed concern, because he didn't have a bag to put the books in. I told everyone to wait a minute, and ran out to the car -- I had an older backpack in the trunk, and it would function well enough for this task. I brought it back inside, flashed my ID to the School Resource Officer in the lobby, and went back to the classroom. Everyone was deciding if Jonas should stay at school the rest of the day, and ride the bus back home with Alex and Jason, who promised high and low that they would not let Jonas get lost. A visibly relieved Juergen gave his assent to the plan, and we left the boys in the care of Miss Phelps.
On the way back, Juergen thanked me for everything today, and said that he now could drop me off at home, and go into the office to attend to a couple of important matters with the remainder of the day. I promised to watch out over the boys, who would likely be invading my home anyway, until Juergen got home. Juergen then got a very serious look on his face, and asked me for my thoughts regarding us having double fucked and bred his eleven year old son's pussy. I thought about it for a second, and opined that this was something that he obviously had been considering for some time, and certainly had planned and prepared for, so the request may very well come up again. Additionally, the fact that Jonas could now also produce semen indicated that he was in the full throes of puberty, and under the control of the hormone storm that came with it. We both decided that it seemed to have worked all the pent-up anxiety out of the boy this time, but that we should keep an eye out for any behaviors or comments that should be addressed. Juergen also planned to have a longer discussion with his son tonight.
Juergen dropped me off at home, and went on his way to the office. It was just a little after 11:15, and I had a little time to check emails and throw a rapidly growing pile of textiles into the washing machine. Coming out of the laundry room, I noticed Jin Woo walking -- no shuffling -- up the walkway. He looked like he was in some pain, in addition to the worrying fact that once again, he was home in the middle of the day. I was concerned, walked up to him and asked him what was wrong. He just sucked air through his teeth (that's a Korean thing) and told me that his back was a little sore. From the pained look on his otherwise handsome face, I could tell that he was understating the pain again as usual. This time, I called him on it, and told him that I could see the truth: he was having muscle spasms, and a 33 year old such as him should not be in such pain . I told him to come inside, and I'd massage the knots out of his back. Surprisingly, he didn't every go through the motions of making an attempt at refusing, and said "ok. Thank you." We entered my apartment, and both of us took off our shoes.
I'd taken a deep tissue massage course while I was in Germany, and quickly became everyone's favorite friend whenever somebody had a muscle ache. I finally stopped sharing information about my skills with new acquaintances, just to keep up with the demand. Fortunately, the supply dropped when Pete died: I was emotionally unapproachable to everyone but a select few (Neal), and I still give him massages when he needs one. I don't mind: he's still hot as hell to look at, and it doesn't freak him out to get "nakey" in front of me. Geez. Those boys are changing my vocabulary too.
Anyway, back to the story: I grabbed my heating pad and some massage oil from my room, and the folding massage table from the guest room closet. After it was set up, I threw a fresh sheet on it, and asked Jin Woo to take off his shirt and undershirt. I was frankly rather shocked when he did: the man was surprisingly well built! He had well defined muscles, and absolutely no hair on his torso, except for small tufts of straight, black hair that appeared from his underarms. I asked him to lay down on his stomach, with this face in the round head support unit -- which he did. I began to apply light pressure with my fingers on different muscles on his back to see which muscle groups were in most need. There is never just one muscle involved in muscle pain, it is often a whole set of them that runs down one or both sides of the body, from the head to the feet. He groaned loudly each time I touched the trapezius and erector spinae muscles on his left side.
From this, I could deduce that the muscles in his glutes and down his thighs and calves would also be distressed. I then pressed on those muscles through his pants, and asked if they also hurt: he groaned loudly as each was pressed. I asked him if he wanted me to take care of those muscles too, and he whispered "yes, if it isn't too much trouble." I then told him that since I had to use massage oil, it would be better if he took off those clothes, so they wouldn't be ruined. He surprised me by twisting himself up to a standing position -- grimacing the whole way -- and taking off his pants, underwear, and socks. I was looking at a completely naked adult Korean male. I suddenly felt like I was looking at the future Jason: the features were all there. Completely hairless, except for a narrow patch of long, straight pubic hair, a larger cock (it still looked like Jason's, but Jin Woo was cut) and a developed musculature. Even his feet looked exactly like the super-size version of Jason's feet. Despite the other events of the day, I started to feel some liftoff. Thankfully, he then laid back down on his stomach.
I had already pre-heated the heating pad, so I laid it over the left erector spinae muscle, and placed a couple of heavy books over it to hold it in place. I poured a thin line of oil down the length of both his legs, and spread it evenly over his skin. Starting with his foot, I massaged his toes, and then the length of each muscle with just enough pressure for just enough time to start to feel the tension release. This is an important note for masseurs: massage a tense muscle either too harshly or for too long, and your client will not like you very much in the morning. A couple of the bones in his foot and his toes popped a bit, to which Jin Woo simply exhaled a vocal "Aaaah" of satisfaction. I then moved up to his calf, using the oil to gently apply pressure in a constant stroke from ankle end of the long muscles to the other end at the knee, while paying specific attention to any particular tense areas. Jin Woo groaned in appreciation with every stroke. I repeated the procedure, but with less intensity on his right foot and calf, as they weren't that tense. I moved up to his thighs, following the same rubrics as the calves. During this, he did spread his legs apart a bit, allowing me access to the muscles on the inside of his thighs, as they were very much prone to ache. By doing so, he afforded me a superb view of the back side of his hairless scrotum and taint. Moving up to his glutes and adding oil there, I changed action a bit, opting for direct pressure followed by a rotating rub on both sides from just inside the gluteal crease, up along the crack, and then out to the iliac crest. Each motion resulted in a deep groan from Jin Woo, and also spread his cheeks widely enough for me to get a grand view of Jin Woo's tight, pink, virginal pucker. It was considerably tighter than his son's, because... well, Atul.
Having covered that field sufficiently, I removed the heat pad from his back, applied oil to his back, and starting with his neck, and trapezius muscles, began working down to his lower back. His groans got louder and louder until I thought I heard them echo off the sheetrock walls. The erector spinae (also known as the "tenderloin") on is left side was -- as suspected -- the primary culprit. In fact it was hard as a rock, I had to start rubbing and digging my elbow along it to provide any kind of relief for him. He was nearly screaming at this point, but soon the muscle began to relent, and Jin Woo visibly relaxed into the table in relief. I then dug my thumbs into the muscle groups just above his ass. By this time, Jin Woo's groans had become soft hums. I grabbed a towel, and wiped any residual oil from his neck, back, glutes, legs and feet, and then asked him to roll over onto his back, so I could get to the front side of his thighs. He was conspicuously quiet, for a moment, and then rolled his head to face me, and told me that he couldn't roll over at the moment. I just giggled a little and asked "because your penis is hard?" He just grunted in affirmation. I told him that it's normal for that to happen to a normal, healthy, virile man when his lower back is massaged, and that I would be surprised if it wasn't hard.
Jin Woo grew up in Korea, and went to saunas like every other Korean: being naked around other men was no issue, but being erect was. He then simply grinned, ginned up his courage, and rolled over: it was a beautiful sight. His cock was a creamy tan color, ramrod straight, about six inches in length and I guessed four inches in circumference. It was nestled in a small nest of pubes, with a pink cockhead that very much resembled Jason's cockhead with the foreskin pulled back. I had to force myself to keep my mouth shut and avoid drooling. I also purposely averted my eyes to keep from staring at it. I applied a bit of oil to both thighs, and began working those muscles on each side. After hitting the front side of his thighs, I reached between his knees, and pulled them apart to get access to the muscles on the inside of his thighs -- and the erogenous zones located there as well. I worked those muscles deeply, and to great effect: his cock and became engorged with blood, and was throbbing in rhythm with his heartbeat. In addition, his bare cockhead was bloated and glistening with pre-cum, and a small pond of the stuff was collecting under the stream drooling from his pee slit. Jin Woo looked up at me, and with a pitiful voice said "I'm sorry".
I tried to comfort him with words: "It's ok Jin Woo. We're both men, and we know how things can be down there. I'm guessing that you have not had any `relief' down there for a while, is that right?" He simply nodded yes, and told me that his wife had not felt well for some months, and couldn't take care of his needs. Poor guy!!
I asked him then if he could not just "take things into his own hands", and he seemed not to know what I was referencing, so I just mimed the universal closed-fist mime of jacking off. He got that, and said that he couldn't do that. His parents had filled him with so much shame after they once caught him masturbating, that it just didn't work for him. I then told him that his sexual tension was probably the root cause of his other issues. "A man who didn't get regular release "down there" is a man who would quickly become ill everywhere else." He could only nod in agreement, as his cock drooled out another teaspoon of slime. I took the dive then, and asked him if I could help him get relief, once again miming the closed fist gesture. He thought about it for a second, and said "I don't think your hand would work," to which I responded, "would you like me to use my mouth?" He didn't seem shocked at all by that question, but rather seemed to perk up. He asked me if I would really do that for him, and I told him back that yes. It's not my favorite thing to do (no real lie there... I'd rather get fucked, but baby steps...), but I would do it for him and for his health. He then said "yes, please. Where should I be?"
I had him sit up on the table, with his legs over the side, in much the same position I had Jason sit the first time I gave him a blow job. Before his conscious mind retook control, I grabbed his cock, and engulfed it with my mouth. Jin Woo moaned sharply, and rested back on his hands. I begin savaging his pink cockhead with my tongue, slathering the ridge with the tip of it, and alternatively deep throating his cock until my nose was buried in his pubes. The man was so on the edge, it wouldn't take much time at all. Five or six iterations of cockhead worship and deep throating later, he had his fingers tangled in my hair, pressing my skull onto his cock. He then jumped off the table, and began skull-fucking me: I just wrapped my lips around my teeth to protect him, and let him have at it. Within twenty strokes, his cock swelled up, and he began blowing -- really blowing -- a ton of pent-up cock snot into my mouth. It wasn't as much as my man Atul produced, so I could readily handle it. Still, I was impressed.
When he was finished, he leaned back against the table, and I grabbed the towel to clean the oil -- as well as cum and saliva -- off of his groin and thighs. He caught his breath, and said "thank you". Instead of feeling shame after this, he seemed to exude pure gratitude, casually noting with a grin that perhaps he should come home early more often. I told him that would be good, because he was too young to die from stress. He just laughed at that, and started to get dressed. Once dressed, he bent his back to and fro, and stretched out his legs, mentioning that he felt a hundred percent better, but needed a nap badly. With that, he gave be a big hug, said thanks again, and left. I had now had both Cho males, and was feeling good. I couldn't wait to tell Atul about my day when he got back home.