The Squake

©2007 Herb Cat. Do not reproduce or distribute this story without the author's permission.

As an author, I welcome feedback from readers. Please send any comments about this story, positive or negative, to Herbcatwriter@yahoo.com. Thank you.

.oOo.

I know why you're reading this story. You saw the title and you asked yourself what is a squake? Did he mean "squeak"? Well, I could tell you a squake is an animal. Or I could tell you a squake is a game. I could give you the one paragraph Reader's Digest explanation. But that would be a disservice to both of us. A disservice to you, because then you wouldn't get to hear how the squake developed, and you wouldn't appreciate what a wonderful thing the squake is, and you wouldn't get to meet my amazing nephew, and mostly because nobody ever got their rocks off from Readers Digest! And a disservice to me because, as a writer, I love to tell stories, and maybe if you like this story, you will read some of my other stories, and also I love to talk about my nephew.

Be warned, it will be a while before I get to the part where I actually explain the squake. Please be patient. Don't go using the "find" function to locate the next mention of the word. That would ruin the story, but of course you know that.

My sister's boy Jordan is 9 1/2 now, and no one could ask for a better nephew! He is 4 foot 2, 71 pounds dripping wet, with a brownish red head of hair that refuses to stay combed. The red he inherited from his father, along with a beautiful array of freckles. He has all his big boy teeth now, some big boy muscles on his arms, chest and belly, and an amazing smooth 3 inch big boy cock. And his ass; well, I'll tell you about that later. Jordan is smart, active, fun-loving, extremely friendly. He can meet someone — adult, teenager, a kid his own age, or even younger — and in five minutes he has won that person over with his amazing charm. He has a delightful sense of humor. Two of his favorite things to do are making up stories and playing tricks. And best of all, Jordan loves to spend time with his bachelor uncle, Me!

Each week, I pick him up at school Friday and he sleeps over at my house. He has his own dresser so he can keep some clothes there, as well as toys and games and sports equipment. He's like the son I never had. When I bring him back home late Saturday afternoon, my sister Marge always thanks me profusely for being so generous with my time, and then insists I stay for supper. Over roast chicken, Jordan always weaves a much embellished story of what we did together, and delivers it so convincingly, that his parents are none the wiser.

Jordan and I play games, go to the parks and zoos, and take in a movie now and then. When he has more than just a weekend free, I take him camping and fishing in my pickup with the camper cap. And a couple times, I've brought him to Disney World. These longer periods are plain wonderful! I know he loves our times together as much as I do, but believe me, no more than I do.

So, you are asking, if we do all these great wholesome activities together, why does Jordan need to embellish the chronicles? Well, you see, he has to add other activities to account for the hours we spend sucking and jerking each other off, and the time my cock is up in his wonderful, welcoming little asshole. We've been having sex for over two years now, and he knows he can't let on to his parents about it. Wonderful, mischievous, naughty, horny little Jordan has a boy-ass to die for, and he knows it. Two delicious hemispheres of boy muscle, not too firm, not too soft, framing an anus that seems to be constantly begging for penetration. After a day of shooting hoops or catching flies, as soon as we get back in the house, the lad can't wait to get his pants off so he can feel my fingers, my tongue, and eventually my cock up inside his chute.

I started babysitting for my sister when Jordan was just a toddler. I especially loved giving him his bath, spending long minutes lathering and rinsing each precious little part of his body. By the time he was four, we were taking our baths together, and his little hands were lathering and rinsing my parts. We had long talks about our body parts, and I realized my sister and brother-in-law never talked to him about such things. When he asked where babies came from, I explained and drew pictures.

When I put him to sleep back then, he always got a bedtime story, not the kind in a book, a canned story, but a tale his uncle would weave for him right on the spot. A tale about monsters and castles, or about rockets and spacemen, or about cowboys in the wild west. But every story involved a hero, a boy Jordan's age who saves the world from injustice.

In Kindergarten, Jordan began sleeping over at my house on Fridays. His parents appreciated the opportunity to have some grown-up entertainment in the evening, and to sleep in on Saturday. I had a guest room but almost immediately Jordan began sleeping in my bed, an arrangement we both preferred. After our bath, we wouldn't bother putting on night clothes. We'd just sit together on the pillows, eat ice cream, and spin a bedtime story. I say "we" because now Jordan was adding his own creative details to the stories. We were co-collaborators. I marvelled at his imagination. I'd have my arm around his shoulders, his hand would be rubbing my hairy pecs, and the story would just flow.

Like all little boys, Jordan of course played with his boy dick. He quickly discovered that, unlike his parents, his uncle never scowled at him or urged him to "stop doing that." On the contrary, whether lying in bed, eating hot dogs on the patio, or watching TV, whenever Jordan felt the need to masturbate, he just proceeded to do so, and most of the time his uncle joined him.

By first grade we were jacking each other off, and comparing erections. He always enjoyed watching me cum, and after checking the goo out with his fingers, and giving it a tentative taste, he was soon taking lessons in oral sex. In return, of course, I sucked his little dick which made him scream in delight. The same reaction came when I rimmed his pretty pink asshole. Jordan knew instinctively that these were not topics to be discussed with his parents. What happens at Uncles, stays at Uncles.

Every week, while we cavorted on the bed, wrestling, tickling, and jerking each other, Jordan would beg to feel my tongue invade his hole. He loved it, and soon was enjoying my well-lubed finger in there as well. So, soon after his seventh birthday, I knew his hole was ready for deflowering. We had long talks about it first. I drew more pictures. I explained what it was going to feel like. I allayed his fears about getting pregnant (LOL). I assured him he could say "Stop" whenever he wanted. So when the big event happened, he was ready.

It was a very special night for both of us. I know Jordan thinks of it as special, for he frequently reiterates the event. He loves to talk about his "first time" and after all, there is no one else he can talk about it with. With each retelling, in typical Jordan fashion, the story becomes more fatntastic. This is his latest version:

"It was a beautiful, warm evening. Uncle and me had finished our bath and were laying on the bed. I ran my fingers through his chest hair and whispered how happy I was. He rumpled my hair and said he loved me. I was just a little kid then, but I knew what love was. I moved my hand down to his cock and began massaging [I taught Jordan that word] it. His cock grew and grew before my eyes, until it was a mile tall [I told you the kid had a great imagination]. He whispered in my ear that I made him feel special. His hand reached down and felt my butt. His middle finger soon located my virgin rosebud cherry [he loves mixed metaphors]. 'Do you want this?' he asked. 'Yes, very much,' I told him. He turned me on to my back and smiled at me. Gently, he took my ankles and lifted my feet up to my head. I grabbed my knees. I was shaking from excitement. This is what I had been looking forward to. He got above me and looked into my face. He asked again if I was ready and I nodded. Soon I felt his huge cock pressed on my hole, begging to come in. [Jordan the author has decided to leave out the part about the lubrication. Of course, I used lots of KY on his innocent little hole, but he thinks that interrupts the flow of the story. And he's probably right. I probably shouldn't have included these brackets.] I stared at Uncle and blew him a kiss. Then I closed my eyes, and pushed out as he had told me to. My asshole opened and pulled him in. [Jordan makes it sound smoother than it was, but who am I to argue with the author about truth.] I was a man, I was in heaven, I couldn't believe how wonderful it felt to have his huge cock inside of me. He pushed and pulled. We both cried and groaned and shouted. Suddenly, he stopped. His whole body stiffened. That is when I felt it. My insides were showered in his mancream [I taught him that term too.] My own body tightened at the same time. I later learned I had an orgasm. I will always remember my first time."

So, for over two years, I have been fucking the shit out of the boy. We've used every position our varied body sizes permitted. Sometimes, we do it fast and rough like the men we both are. Sometimes, we prefer to be little boys and do it slow and gentle with lots of foreplay. Our sex is never boring.

Jordan understands my pedophilia. "Appreciates" might be a better word. He's thrilled that he is the primary object of my lust. But he also knows I don't object to an occasional piece of fresh boy ass. He loves me and wants to make me happy. What's more, he wishes every little boy could feel the way he did that "first time." That's why last summer, he helped me invent the squake game. Jordan loved the game immediately because he discovered he was such a natural born player. He insists we play it once on every visit. You see, I did get back to the squake. Aren't you glad you waited? Rather than simply explaining the game, let me illustrate by relating how we played last Saturday.

I drove the pickup to Greensville about thirty miles away, Jordan riding shotgun and giggling in anticipation. Each time we play, we choose a new location. I knew Greensville had a large county park with acres of trees, two or three playgrounds, and a number of small parking lots set up by picnic areas. In short, it was a good place to play the squake game.

It was about noon when we pulled in, the sun blazing hot overhead. Not too many people around though; most families had probably taken off for a beach. This park didn't have swimming. We sat in the pickup a while, scoping out the prospects on the playground. After a while, we spotted our victim climbing off the monkey bars and heading over to swing by himself. About seven by my guess, he was a cute towheaded lad, shorn close to the skull. He wore cut off denim shorts, a nondescript t shirt and sockless sandals. Jordan and I agreed where to meet. He climbed out and I repositioned the pickup in the next parking lot, got my jacket from behind the seat [even though it's hot, the jacket is an important element in this game], climbed out and waited at a picnic table.

Jordan told me later how it all went down. He went up to the boy, and asked if he wanted to play on the seesaw. The kid was delighted, first because he finally had someone to play with, and second because an older boy was giving him attention. In no time, Jordan learned his name was Brian, he indeed was seven, and his family was off getting lunch ready. They'd told him to play a while and when he got hungry, the food would be ready. Jordan and his new friend had soon exhausted all the play equipment and began chasing each other in a game of tag. Then Jordan suggested they take a walk to hunt for bears! Brian giggled, almost sure that there weren't any bears in Greensville, but just to be safe, he grabbed Jordan's hand and off they skipped.

In a few minutes, Jordan whispered to Brian, "Look over there. See the guy sitting at that table?" Brian nodded. "Look, he's got his jacket over his lap and his hands are under it. There's something moving under there. I think he's got an animal in there."

"No, he don't." Brian countered.

"I bet he does. Come on, let's ask him." Brian shrugged and the pair approached me. "Hey, mister!" I took one hand out of my crotch and put a finger against my lips. Jordan had played the game dozens of times and took his cue. He whispered, "Hi, there, mister. What you got under your jacket? Is it an animal?" I nodded. "See, Brian, I told you."

Now Brian's eyes were bugging out of his head. "What kind of animal, mister?"

"What are your names, boys?" They told me, Jordan acting like we were complete strangers. "Well, Jordan, Brian, you try to guess what animal I got under here."

"Is it a bear?" Brian blurted out. He immediately started laughing at himself, but ever since they went into the woods, bears were on his mind. "Hehe, no, I mean is it a b-b-beaver? That's what I meant." I shook my head. The boys took turns guessing a while. Puppy? Kitten? Chipmunk? Bird? Frog? All the while, Brian kept staring at the wriggling hidden creature, while Jordan and I exchanged winks.

"Come on, mister," Jordan insisted. "Tell us."

I took one hand out again and motioned for them to come close. They did. I returned my hand beneath my jacket and whispered, "It's a squake."

In unison, they asked, "What's a squake?"

"What? You boys never heard of squakes?" Both lads shook their heads. "What the hell are they teaching kids in school nowadays? Well, a squake is a marvelous animal. It's half squirrel, and half snake." Jordan and Brian looked at each other wide-eyed. "You see, it's hairy like a squirrel, and yet it's long and shaped like a snake."

"Wow," sighed Brian.

Jordan waited for Brian to ask the inevitable. Most often the little kids do, but if it seems they aren't going to, Jordan pops the question. He's impatient like that. "Can we see the squake?"

Immediately then Brian asked too, "Yeah, please, mister? I ain't never seen a squake."

"OK, but you boys have to be real quiet, so it doesn't get frightened. Now, Jordan you take hold of my jacket on that side, and Brian you take the other side, and together you lift it up real slow." The boys followed my orders and soon were staring agape at my lap, my pants pulled down to my knees, my hands slowly massaging my 39-year old cock.

"Wow," whispered Jordan.

"Yeah," echoed Brian. That's what I love about these clueless innocents. My guess is that Brian, like so many other boys who have lived a sheltered existence, had never cast his young eyes on an adult dick before, not even his own father. He had grown up in a world without nudity, and without any discussion of human anatomy. For all he knew, every male had a little hairless weenie like his own between his legs. Shit, some boys even figure females must have weenies too. The only visible difference between the sexes in their eyes is boobs. So it was really no great feat to convince Brian it was an animal I had cradled in my lap. He stared at it silently.

Jordan spoke up, "That sure is a beautiful looking squake. I never knew squakes looked like that. Ain't it pretty, Brian?"

"Yeah." Again, Jordan waited for the next question. Would Brian speak up this time, or would he have to go the next step himself. Thankfully, Brian came up with it with no coaxing from my young shill. "Uh, mister, can we pet the squake?"

"Sure, Son, if you want to. You see how I'm petting him? You do it the same way, OK?" Brian tentatively reached his hand over and gave my cock a light touch. Jordan then began a more expert jerkoff, like he'd done so often over the years, and guided his young friend to do likewise. Soon I had four little hands working away on my squake's shaft, as well as its hairy egg case. I was in ecstasy. Twenty tiny fingers walking up and down my stiff cock. "Oh, yes, boys, you are making the squake very happy. Look at how content he is." I waited a minute, drinking in the wondrous feeling. "See, he's not frightened at all now. In fact, I bet he'll let you kiss him." Brian looked a little hesitant, so Jordan bent over and pressed his lips on what must be the squake's mouth. He also kissed the squake's long neck a couple times, and for good measure, licked the squake's moist lips. Brian seemed to be more at ease now and so gingerly put his mouth on the squake as well. I closed my eyes as his tiny innocent lips were pursed on my cockhead. "Brian, do you know how to suck a candy stick?" The lad nodded. "Try sucking the squake that way. I think he'll like that." With no further coaxing, the little seven-year old took my cock in his mouth and began sucking me off like a downtown whore. Shit, I'm going to hell for sure, but it'll all be worth it.

Brian came up for air and said, "Mister? The squake has water coming out of its mouth. What's that mean?"

"Oh, Brian. That's too bad. That means the squake is hungry. I better be heading home. The boy next door can feed him."

"No! Please don't go." Brian was begging. "Maybe I can get something for the squake to eat. Momma is making lunch. What do squakes eat?"

"Boyshit," I whispered.

"Ugh, gross, that's dirty."

The scene plays out in almost the identical fashion every time. Jordan knows his next line by heart, "My father taught me that shit isn't dirty until it comes out in the toilet. He says when it's still inside, it's clean and white, like mashed potatoes." Like I said, that kid could tell the most incredible stories and have his audience believe him. Brian looked at him like he was a mountaintop guru dispensing truth.

"Well, that might be true, Jordan," I confirmed. "I can't say for certain. All I know is the squake likes to go inside my neighbor boy and feast on his boyshit.

"He can eat mine, mister. I don't mind!" Jordan pulled his shorts off and bent over.

"Oh, no, I can't bother you boys like that," I protested. "I'll just take my squake and drive home." I started to stand.

"No, no, mister!" Brian was begging again. "Please don't go. Your squake can eat the shit in me also!" Brian got out of his cutoffs and his lovely Spiderman briefs. This is where the game varies a little. Some tots are still a little reluctant, in which case, I fuck Jordan first. But Brian was so enthusiastic, I couldn't keep him waiting any longer.

"You are such a nice boy, Brian. So kind and generous. Come here, and let me sniff your shithole." Brian came close. "Oh, you smell delectable, Brian." I lathered his precious cherry in spit. "Oh, that tastes delicious," I told him in all honesty. "My squake will love your boyshit." I guided little Brian to squat above my lap, facing me. Out of Brian's sight, Jordan opened the KY and put some on my finger to add some grease to my spitlube. "Now, pretend you are going to the bathroom, Brian. But instead of shitting in the toilet, the squake is going to eat all your shit." I pulled the little lad down on to my pole. For a moment I let him balance there, his anus pressing on my cockhead. "You ready?"

"Uh huh."

I gave him a big smile, spread his tiny buttocks, and pushed my cock inside. He gave a quick shrill squeak, but I kept talking to him. "Oh, wow, look at that squake go. He smells that good food. He can't wait to get in there. Hehe, you feel how he is pushing inside you."

"Uh, yeah!" Brian choked. He was half crying. I knew he wanted to scream, but he was probably afraid of frightening the squake. He kept squirming around. I love how little boys squirm when I fuck them, their tight sphincters rubbing on my shaft.

"Yeah, he is so hungry. So fucking hungry. You feel how he's wiggling and pushing in there? Yeah. Brian. The squake is going to love this lunch. He thinks your food is even better than the boy next door." By now, Brian is all excited. He's sweating and bouncing on my cock and making loud grunts. I'm screaming, "Yes, Brian, Yes, Yes."

Jordan is cheering from the sidelines, "Wow. That must be so great, Brian. I can't wait to have the squake in my ass. What does it feel like? I bet it feels real good." Of course, poor little Brian in the midst of his deflowering can hardly utter a word. Big tears are running down his face. His little arms are clenched around my neck. His ass hole is getting torn open, because even with the ample KY, his virgin sphincter is still small and tight for my big mantool. But he bravely holds on, wanting desperately to feed the cute squake he had been petting and kissing.

Suddenly, the inevitable: I let loose a volley of cums right in Brian's sweet boyhole. He knew something was happening and opened his eyes wide. I let out a long, "Ahhhhhhhhhhhh," then told him softly, "There now, the squake is real happy." I held Brian as he collapsed against my chest. Shortly, the exhausted "squake" went limp and flubbed out of the boy's asshole. I set Brian on the ground and steadied him as Jordan helped him dress again.

Jordan put on his disappointment act. "Shit, I wanted to feed him also."

"That's all right, I'm sure he'll be ready to eat again real soon." It didn't matter what Jordan and I said to each other. Brian was too dazed for anything to register.

Jordan tenderly wiped Brian's face, walked him back to the playground and left him sitting by himself in the sandbox. I pulled up in the truck and Jordan hopped in. We glanced one last time at the kid who had satisfied the squake with his luscious asshole; he was just sitting there looking down at the sand, probably wondering if he had just woken up from a weird dream. I looked at Jordan and we high-fived each other. Another round of the squake game had ended successfully. We drove home, where Jordan got his chance to feed my squake.

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As an author, I welcome feedback from readers. Please send any comments about this story, positive or negative, to Herbcatwriter@yahoo.com. Thank you.