Chronos/Garrett

From All The Fallen Stories
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Garrett’s eyes devoured the text on the screen before him. He knew his young eyes were not meant for such things, but he could hardly resist the sweet naughtiness of the story he read. He furiously stroked his small stiff member without any semblance of finesse, just the fury of carnal need. His shoulder was cramping from the action, but he dare not stop until he felt the bliss of orgasm. He came at last from his action, and slumped heavily in his chair.

He noticed something different as he rested. His cum, once clear and viscous, was now thick and white. From his internet reading he knew what this meant. He was finally a man. He could make babies! He felt very proud of himself in that instant. He was only 10 years old, and was already a man.

He heard the hardwood floor creak as someone came down the hallway toward his room. He quickly cleaned himself off and pulled up his pajama bottoms. He had barely closed the browser window when his mom entered the room.

Heather O’Leary had been an absolute stone-cold fox in her prime. Even at age 34 and after bearing an astounding fifteen children she still turned heads. She was a bit on the tall side for a woman, standing 5’ 8” with a firm, athletic body and b-cup breasts that were just beginning to show the effects of gravity. She had been pregnant almost constantly from the time she had married her husband after they graduated high school, until the birth of her youngest, Alison, three years past. The process would have likely continued had her husband not been shot in the line of duty eight months before Alison’s birth.

She looked at her darling boy, sitting in front of his computer. She scanned him with a mother’s knowing gaze, recognizing the slumped posture and avoidant expression; and knew instantly that he had been doing something to feel guilty about. The musky scent in the air was intimately familiar to her. The evidence was staggering. Her little boy had been masturbating.

Heather was not as surprised as many mothers would be. Garrett had always been a precocious child, and it made sense to her that he would develop physically more quickly in the same manner as he had mentally. She thought for the briefest of moments before deciding that now was not the time to talk to the boy about such things as masturbation and sexual relations, as it would most likely embarrass him unduly under the current circumstances. She took a mental note to have “the talk” with him at the appropriate time.

“You should be in bed young man,” she said with a smile as she brushed his nearly jet black hair from his freckled face. She gazed lovingly into his deep green eyes. He looked more and more like his father with each passing day, and she sighed emotionally as she took in that reminder of her lost love.

“Awww . . . five more minutes, mom?” pleaded the young man.

“I’ll have none of that.” She replied sternly. “Tonight is a school night, and I still have to see your sister’s to bed. You’re the man of the house Garrett, and you need to start to take some responsibility.”

“Oookay,” he said, sliding from the chair, and slumping toward his bed. He hesitantly climbed into the bed, pulling the superhero emblazoned comforter up around him.

As his mother tucked him in, Garrett clandestinely gazed down her shirt. Her breasts were milky-white orbs dusted with a cinnamon sprinkling of freckles, damnably covered with a lacy bra that reminded him of the frosting on a wedding cake. She kissed his forehead, and bid him good-night, lightly shutting the door as she left. Garret began to rub another one out thinking of his mother, but drifted off to sleep before he could finish.

Garrett woke to the hustle and bustle of a house full of women getting ready for the day. He had learned from experience that the best thing to do was simply stay out of their way. The hardest part about that solution was the obligatory morning piss. Getting into the bathroom was the hardest thing Garrett needed to do in his morning routine. After the first time he accidentally pissed himself, Garrett discovered the answer to this as well.

He quickly got dressed, and ran downstairs. He flew past his mom with a quick, “Going to the station”, and was out the door. It was only three blocks to the closest filling station, and a much better option than trying to get into one of the house’s four bathrooms. He waved at Mrs. Schultz as he trekked his morning route. She was one of his favorite things about his morning ritual.

Mrs. Schultz was an aerobics instructor at the local gym, and always went for a morning run. She was of average build with a firm, toned body and huge knockers. Garrett didn’t know a lot about cup sizes, but he imagined she had to be at least a g-cup. Garrett watched appreciatively as she jogged down the sidewalk, her breasts bouncing despite their sports bra covering. Her cinnamon brown pony tail swished back and forth, occasionally pausing for a moment as it contacted the cord connecting hear ear buds to her MP3 player. She smiled, and waved back at Garrett as she jogged by. Garrett stole a quick glance back at the woman’s firm flexing ass before continuing his way to the gas station.

There was nothing remarkable about the gas station. It was a small, four-pump station with a small convenience store. The store attendant was a small, attractive lady with small breasts, a small waist, and a large broad smile.

“Hey Gary,” she beamed as the young boy dashed into the store.

“Hey Cyn,” he replied, pronouncing it “sin”, as he made a b-line to the restroom. The very pretty attendant’s name was Cynthia. She insisted on shortening Garrett’s name to Gary, so he returned the favor. Garrett had never liked the name Gary and had started calling the young woman “sin” as a return insult. They had become casual acquaintances over the last year however, and now the names were more like pet names between them. Garrett didn’t even mind so much that she called him Gary any longer.

After dealing with his business, Garrett washed his hands and went to talk a while with Cynthia. He did find the girl very attractive, despite the fact that he preferred large breasts on a woman. She had a fair complexion, and as far as Garrett could tell was a natural blond. She wore her hair very short and had the palest blue eyes that Garrett has ever seen. They were the kind of eyes that made a man almost forget to look at the breasts below.

Cynthia casually flirted with Garrett in the condescending, patronizing way adult women flirt with little boys as Garrett took in her figure and form; caressing her body with his gaze, outlining her beautiful face, to finally fall into the icy orbs of her soul. This continued for a few minutes then Garrett pulled himself away to return home for breakfast.

Outside the filling station Garrett noticed something out of place . . . or rather someone. A man was leaning against a light pole across the street from the filling station. There was something about him that just didn’t fit. He was tall and handsome, in a girlish way, immaculate and exquisitely groomed. He was far too well dressed for the area with a fashionable suit that appeared to be silk. None of this caused Garrett to notice him. Rather it was the nature of his gaze; cold, calculated, and unblinking even when the slight wind whipped his jaw-length auburn hair across his steel gray eyes. Garrett stopped to look at him when an SUV passed by quickly. Once the SUV had passed, the man was nowhere to be seen. Garrett shrugged off a chill, and quickly made his way home.