Subject: the-devil-lives-in-paris/the-devil-lives-in-paris-1 This story contains graphic sexual scenes between males under 18. If material of this nature offends you then you should not read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age in most states, the state may have forbidden you from reading this story by law. Please understand this is a work of fiction. The actions described in the story are not real nor encouraged or condoned in real life. It’s fiction, folks, and remember that, please. While most of the locations are real places in the real world, all the characters are absolutely fictional and any reference or resemblance to real people, living or dead, is purely coincidental or just functional to the plot. Feedbacks welcome at ail. I’m not native English speaker, so please be kind to me! You might wish to give a look to my other stories on Nifty: https://www.//gay/young-friends/little-alex-friends – A spin-off adventure among Alex’s friends https://www.//bisexual/incest/little-alex-jenny-and-the-machine – A Bisex variation with a little sister https://www.//gay/incest/grampa-will-journey-to-arkansas/ – The story of Grampa Will, Little Alex grampa. https://www.//gay/sf-fantasy/a-romanian-in-paris/ – A dark fantasy packed with young, nasty boys.. https://www.//bestiality/little-alex-furry-friends/ – Little Alex experiments with his furry-lover side. Thank you! *** The Devil Lives in Paris *** Part 1 – A Bright Future Ahead Paris, France � 24 October 1960 My name is Oguzan Dragoul, all my friends call me Drago: they say it sounds much better than Oguzan. I’m Romanian, 32 years old and quite good looking, if you ask me. I was born in Wallachia, homeland of Vlad Draculea, “The Impaler”: that’s why I called my only boy Vlad, to cherish the name of our national hero. Today it’s his ninth birthday but my little love won’t have a party, at least not today: I have an important business meeting with my publisher (yes! Guess it: I’m a writer), and my wife has gone to Geneva, Switzerland, for a meeting at the UNO. Ten years ago, I met my French wife, Amanda, in Bucharest, where I was a student at the State University, and she was a cultural attach� at the Ambassade de France. Romania is tightly ruled by the Communist Party, under the iron fist of CCCP… cultural events are welcome and seen as a powerful means to convey propaganda. I met Amanda in one of these events and we immediately fell in love… When she got pregnant, I married her and, as the husband of a French citizen, I got a French passport: I’ve never been prouder of my dick’s achievements! When Vlad was 4, we finally got all the papers sorted out and we all moved to Paris. Fucking time to, if you ask me… Amanda is working her career in the diplomatic world and I’m trying to become what I’ve always dreamed of being: a novelist, a writer, the “Romanian Hemingway”. Today I’m closer to get my dream become true, as I have finally to meet with my publisher. There is only one problem: I can’t take little Vlad with me. I’m going to ask our neighbour Thomas, a penniless musician from the USA who lives in the basement of our building and good friend of mine, to babysit him. Thomas is in bed when I enter his miserable, smelly apartment. Thomas acts uneasy, and I think that he may be sick. He lies with his knees drawn up and the covers bulked around them and apparently intends to stay in bed all day. I ask if he’s feeling well. Oh yes, he’s fine, just a bit tired … and he fakes a yawn. Well, I tell him, I need a favour … and just then something moves under the bedcovers, at Thomas’s knees. I’ve seldom seen a man look so sheepish as Thomas is now … When I see what he’s been hiding I have to laugh. “Which şişli travesti sex is it?” I ask him. Thomas pushes back the covers and a boy of eight or nine climbs out from beneath his knees. “Another two minutes and you’d never have guessed it,” he says. “But now look, Drago, Jesus Christ, keep quiet about this, will you? You know how it is.” The boy pushes back his straight black hair and wipes his forehead, on the sheet. He complains that it was too hot under there. He sits on the edge of the bed and stares at me. “How the hell long have you been keeping this around?” I ask him. “What do you do? Give him candies to get him up here?” Joel, that’s the name of the little bitch, is the son of the people who keep the bar next door, Thomas tells me. And, he says defensively, he doesn’t visit him only … everyone in the neighbourhood knows about him. “It isn’t as though I just picked him up somewhere,” he says. “Shit, there isn’t a fucking thing I can teach him … he knows everything already. I’m not shitting you. It’s only that he’s learned to fuck a little earlier than most boys do.” The boy spreads his legs and shows me his hard, 3-inch-long dicklet. He even pulls its hood down to be certain that I get a good peep at his pointy, little head. “You can… baise moi (fuck me) … if you want to,” he pipes up. “Only let Mr. Thomas to… uhmmm… baise moi… first!” Does Mr. Thomas fuck him very often, I ask him? No, this is only the third or fourth time he’s been here. He was just ready to fuck him when I came in… “Go right on,” I tell Thomas. “I don’t want to spoil anything.” The boy has begun to play with himself with one hand and he’s using the other to shake Thomas’s cock up. Thomas thinks that I don’t understand. He’s not doing anything that anyone else might do, etc. etc. On the other hand, I do understand, I assure him. I came close to doing the same thing myself… So, Thomas feels better. “By God, Drago, ” he says, “you ought to try him once. I never thought I’d see the day when I’d admit it, but it really does give you a kick.” He pushes the bedcovers back with his feet and sits up. He gives the boy a pinch on his ass and sets him shoulders straight. “Look at him. Isn’t he a little beauty? He’ll be a fine ass when he grows up. And he’s filthy as hell . . . you ought to hear the line of gab he can toss out at you when he gets sore. And Christ, the stories he tells me! I don’t believe half of them, but the half I do believe is bad enough.” The boy stops playing with himself and grabs Thomas’ dong with both of his small hands. He knows enough about pricks to understand what makes them big… He bends over and lets his long, black hair tickle it while he slides his fingers up and down. “It’s not like this was all I liked to fuck,” Thomas goes on. “Shit no! I’m only trying this as a change. And he’s big enough… it doesn’t hurt him or anything. Jesus Christ, Drago, he’s getting laid anyway… I might as well try it and find out what it’s like.” He’d be singing the national anthem in a minute, but the boy has him so excited that he’s begun to stutter. Joel brings his mouth very close to Thomas’s cock time after time and then draws away just as his lips are about to touch it. Eventually, he dives forwards and swallows half of Thomas’s fat prick. “He wants to charge extra for sucking you off,” he explains, “but he always forgets about it and does it anyway.” “Charges extra!” I shout. “Do you mean that they know enough to sell it at this age? By God… when I was a kid…” “Sure, he sells his ass and mouth. But that doesn’t make it any less of a good fuck …” The boy stops playing with his dick and starts to fingerfuck his ass, defiantly looking straight at my eyes. beylikdüzü travesti “You see that?” Thomas says. “He’s nuts about that boy-cunt and the feeling he gets out of it. The money part doesn’t have anything to do with it, some dope probably gave him a few coins once and he found that he could get money too. But Jesus, Drago, when you get your prick into that little ass hole, when he starts to wiggle under you and rubs that little belly against yours . . . I’m telling you, it’s like nothing you ever tried before.” “I don’t want to talk,” the boy complains suddenly. ” Je veux �tre bais�.” (“I want to be fucked”) “That’s the way it is, Drago … just like that, just like he said. Now watch him when he feels it between his ass’s bums. Shit, you’ll think he’s going to kill himself getting onto it. But he’s plenty big enough inside. It’s just the way it looks … he doesn’t take it in his ass, he wraps himself around it …” Joel lifts his ass a good six inches from the bed and seems to throw himself downward. It’s amazing, but he has half of Thomas’ dick into himself with just that one movement. “The first time he did that I thought he was a goner,” Thomas declares, “but that’s how he seems to like it … can you see it? Christ, I used to hold a mirror behind his ass just to watch it. You can see the whole machinery with this little ass, not a hair to hide the facts of life. And you ought to see …” Whatever it is that I ought to see, Thomas forgets it. The tiny boy has begun to wiggle, and each time he gives his ass a shake it squeezes Thomas’s dick in a little further. Thomas wasn’t cheated when they were handing out pricks, either, with almost 9 inches of solid meat; and it really does begin to look as though the boy might do something to himself that can’t be repaired without some fancy hem-stitching. His boy-cuntlet stretches and stretches, until it’s more than twice the size that it ought to be able to reach. But never a squeak out of the little boy … he shakes his ass and tightens his legs around Thomas like a veteran. When it stops going into him it’s because there isn’t any more… all that he’s left outside of himself… except Thomas… is a mop of pubes and a pair of balls. “AHHHHHWWW FUUUCK! Just take a good look at it now, will you, Drago, ” Thomas begs me. “Just as a personal favour to me. I want you to take a look at it and then tell me it’s possible. Christ, I have had bad dreams about it at night, but I can’t leave him alone. AHHHH FUCK, you little bitch, that’s it. Wiggle some more! JESUS.FUCKING.CHRIST. I never had anything that was more like fucking a snake…” “I’m not the only one that fucks him. Look, Drago, you wouldn’t believe it if I pointed out some of the guys he tells me he’s been fucked by.” He lies there with his huge cock shoved into the little boy’s ass and argues with me about who in the neighbourhood is fucking him. Go figure! But Joel gets tired of hearing us talk… he wants to be fucked, he says, and if Thomas isn’t going to fuck him the right way, he won’t come to see him anymore. “Get this,” says my friend. “See his dicklet twitching, sort of? He swears he’s coming when he does that. Do you suppose he really goes? That’s all that happens…” He goes to work fucking him again. “But Holy Jesus, when I come in the little bitch…” He grabs his ass and half lifts him off the bed. His dong drives in and the bed groans… or perhaps it’s Thomas. The boy keeps his legs far apart to help him go in as far as he likes, and I imagine that I can see his belly filling out… “God, he takes gallons,” Thomas gasps. “Imperial gallons… UUUAAARRGHHHH” He noisily cums into the boy’s overstretched ass, shooting volley after volley of thick spunk istanbul travesti into him. I’m actually shaky on my legs when it’s over. I’m in worse shape than Thomas, and he doesn’t look exactly like a daisy. The boy passes the whole thing off with innocent nonchalance. He wants to know if I’d like to fuck him now! “Go ahead, Drago, ” Thomas advises me from the bed. “You won’t find anything like it again. But you’ll have to do it on the floor or someplace… I simply can’t move an inch from the spot I’m in…” I tell the boy that I don’t want to fuck him just now… some other day, perhaps, but he comes over anyway and rubs his baby ass against my knee. If I’ll feel him up a little, he tells me, I’ll want to fuck him. “They all do after they’ve felt me,” he informs me. “Put your hand between my legs… you can feel Mr. Thomas’s… sperme… coming out of my poo hole now…” But I don’t, I insist, I don’t want to screw him, and I don’t care to feel of Mr. Thomas’s sperme. Then would I like to be sucked off? He slips between my knees and presses his belly against my cock… I have a painful hard-on by now, he can feel that and, probably, even smell my precum. But no, I don’t want to be sucked off, I have things to do today, important things, life changing things… Maybe next time… So, a pissed off Joel gets dressed and leaves stomping his little feet on the floor and cursing in French, leaving me alone with my exhausted pedo-friend. I tell him I have great news. My publisher called me this morning and I have to meet him in a couple of hours at Gal�rie De Vil, in St. Germaine. It seems they are willing to publish my first book… since I moved from Bucharest to Paris two years ago, this is the first time that anyone is willing to publish something I’ve written… Fucking time, I’d say… He can’t say no, can him? We have had so much booze schmooze together that we are closer in life than many blood brothers are. Hell, we even shared a few chicks, excluding Amanda… she doesn’t know about my sexual escapades, and it better stay this way, I guess… Thomas says no… he blabbers about having to meet a chick to drain his nuts because little Joel left him with a hefty load that’s still waiting to be shot from his balls. “I’d probably end fucking Vlad’s chubby ass if you were to leave him alone with me…”. He grabs his dripping cock and pumps it a couple of times, just to emphasize the concept… as if I were a dumb American like he is! Hell yes, Vlad at nine-something is a chubby boy, with a mop of red hairs on his head (from my family’s side), green eyes (from his mother’s side), adorable boy titties and a round, fat ass. But I’m not risking Thomas to get under his pants… he’s my son, not an anonymous bitch. And as my son, I want to be the first to open him up to incest love… and sex of course… Just tinking about his pudgy ass wrapped around my thick cock makes my mini-me stir in my pants… Focus… I need to focus on my next visit to the Gal�rie, I’ve time to plan my son’s cherry pop! I go back to my apartment and have little Vlad dressed and ready in less than 10 minutes… well, I had to promise him an ice-cream to speed things up a little… he keeps glancing at my noticeable bulge with wide eyes… la petite putain glouton… It’s just after 1 in the afternoon when we finally move out and take a taxi, heading to the Gal�rie De Vil. Heading to my bright future! ********* Now that I’m a “junior” author I understand how important it is for a writer to receive your feedbacks, kind reader. So, everytime I read something on Nifty that I like, now I take my time to reach out for a “thank you” to the author: please do the same everytime you like a story. Emails are for free and we authors live (almost) for your appreciation. Thank you to all of you that have provided a feedback! Please keep Nifty alive, donate to http://donate./donate.html … Seriously, do it. My stories on fty//bestiality/little-alex-furry-friends/

Bir cevap yazın

E-posta hesabınız yayımlanmayacak. Gerekli alanlar * ile işaretlenmişlerdir