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A Man and His Boy, Chapter 7

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I felt strangely empty for the brief moment in between Daddy removing his fingers and then inserting the tip of his fat cock. And then I felt a screaming pain as his girth strained my small asshole. I groaned and started to protest, “Sir, this–“

He shushed me and held my legs tightly on his shoulders. “I know, boy, you just gotta let it open up and then you’ll feel right.” Each second, though, felt truly agonizing and I just wished he would pull out. I knew he was moving at a glacially slow pace for my benefit, when probably he just wanted to fuck my brains out, and I appreciated it, but there was no way this pain was going to turn into pleasure.

He kept going deeper and I kept breathing, trying to keep my pulse from accelerating into infinity, trying not to panic as I envisioned my anus tearing, and what would I do if I bled on his cock? And oh god I definitely needed to take a shit, and this was going horribly wrong. And then he finally got the whole head inside. It felt so strange having this massive object inside me. His fingers were thick, but they were flexible and long, so they had room to breathe. The head of Daddy’s cock seemed perfectly matched to the diameter of my ass, like it was designed to fill me up. I stared at the ceiling in wonderment, my jaw slightly slack.

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