Tanner’s best days 3 – Marathon
A father helps his disabled son in an unusual way.
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Tanner’s best days 3 – Marathon
“How long has Tanner been watching porn today?”
Brett turned to answer his wife.
“It’s just coming up on two hours. I’ll go and turn it off in a few minutes.”
“Are you sure it’s healthy, masturbating for that long Brett?”
“Well, I can’t see any reasons why not from a physical point of view, and I don’t think he’s ever been so happy in his life.”
“No, I’ll give you that! But do you think it’s right,” she asked, “just seeing other boys as sex objects?”
“I don’t think there’s any need to be a social justice warrior about this honey,” Brett said, gently chiding his wife. “What’s he going to do, go out and start raping other boys?”
She smiled, accepting his rebuke in good humour.
“No, I don’t suppose he is, and IS nice not to have to worry about soiled sheets or underwear anymore.”
“That’s the spirit. In fact, he’s asked me to leave him hooked up overnight some time.”
“You’re not going to are you darling?”
“No, no, of course not. I wouldn’t leave him that long without checking up on him. But I think he’s going through that normal phase that all teenagers go through, of wanting to experiment. To see how far he can push it. I remember when I was a kid, I wanted to see how many times I could jack off in a single day.”
She grinned, imagining her husband as a boy, sitting with his legs crossed, hunched over and jacking himself stupid like a horny monkey.
“How many did you manage?”
“Eleven,” he said, returning her smile. “Then my nuts were completely bone dry!”
She chuckled at this hitherto unrevealed insight into his youth.
“Anyway, there’s no way we can leave him hooked up all night,” he continued, “but if he wants to go for a marathon, who are we to stop him? In a way, I’m happy that he has the same drives as any other teenage boy. So what I suggest is he can do it during the day. That way I can look in on him every couple of hours, and make sure he’s okay.”
“Well, if you don’t think he’s going to wear away his pecker, it’s your call as always.”
At 4pm Brett looked in on his son for the second time.
“Are you okay Bub?” he asked.
Tanner didn’t answer. He was staring at the screen as though hypnotised. Brett entered the room and glanced up at the screen, four boys in their late teens dressed in Scout uniforms were lying in a circle noisily giving each other blowjobs. Tanner’s cock was rigid in his lap, his glans bloated. He was breathing in deep, shuddering breaths.
Brett put his hand on his son’s shoulder.
“You okay Bub?” he asked again.
“Unnn,” his son grunted “G… go away dad!” he said, irritated at being pulled from the fantasy in which HE was part of the circle.
Brett backed away.
“Sorry Bub.”
At 6pm Brett looked in again and tiptoed up not wishing to disturb his son this time. His son’s penis was still standing up stiffly. Tanner ejaculated and Brett recognised the ecstatic writhing his son had displayed earlier. He didn’t squirt as much as formerly, but still, the fact that five hours after he had started, the boy was still squirting at all was pretty incredible.
Brett grinned. He couldn’t believe that his son was still horny after so long. He was unaware that his son COULDN’T lose his erection, even if he wanted to. Which he most certainly did. The root of his cock had started aching just after the 4pm check up, and his remorselessly drained balls had started to hurt soon after. And still he felt desperately horny.
He was unaware that his father was in the room, and he had long since ceased caring about what was on the screen. Now he simply stared straight ahead in an effort to get through this. He realised he had been too ambitious.
Brett shook his head and tiptoed out amazed.
At 8pm, Brett entered for the final time.
Cheerfully he said, “Well Bub, that’s it. Time’s up! If you go any longer I think your balls will disappear.”
He looked at the floor in front of his son. It looked as though someone had spilled a bucket of hand soap. Squirt after squirt of boy-cum formed large puddles on the floor near to the chair, and further away long streaks, more energetically launched, striped the floor up to five feet in front of the boy.
“Sss… sss… sss… sss…”
His son couldn’t form coherent words. Stress had robbed him of his vocabulary. He wanted to scream “STOP! TURN IT OFF! ENOUGH NOW!” But he couldn’t say a thing.
Brett looked at his son’s face.
“What that Bub?”
He waited for his son to speak again. Tanner simply looked at him, hoping that his father would understand in time.
Then against all his hopes, he started to ejaculate yet again. Although he hadn’t been counting, this was in fact his 77th orgasm in 8 hours. For the past two hours, he seemed to squirt only every third or fourth orgasm, as his testicles and his prostate recharged his reservoirs. This was one of the times he did squirt.
In his peripheral vision, his father noticed the small jet of cum, leaping a few inches from his son’s twitching cock. He looked down and grinned. Amazing, after 8 hours the horny pup was still squirting!
He assumed incorrectly that his son had been trying to warn him of his impending orgasm. He stepped back towards the door.
“You’re still going. Shall I give you a last half an hour Bub?”
He was just reaching for the door when Tanner mustered his senses for another effort.
“NNNOO!”
Tanner never raised his voice, but Brett recognised the panic in his son’s voice now. He returned to his son’s side.
“Are you okay Bub?” he asked, not thinking to turn off the buzzing equipment working on his son’s genitals.
His son’s voice trembled and gasped as he tried to speak.
“Hhhuh.. huh… hh… hh… ee… enough now. T… t… tuh… too many times.”
“Shall I turn I turn this off now then?” his father clarified.
“Huhhhh,” Tanner whined in a high pitched tone.
His father reached down and turned off the vibrator. He slid it carefully from his son’s penis. There were purple marks in the tender skin where the nipples had been pressing. Tanner could feel pressure growing in his balls as the testicle vibrator continued to work. His father seemed to be moving agonisingly slowly. He was unplugging the vibrator and putting it back in its box. Didn’t he know how urgent this was?
For the first 5 hours, Tanner’s orgasms had come fairly regularly – every five or ten minutes at first, then decreasing to about every fifteen minutes. But hours of repeated forced orgasms short circuited something in his brain, and for the past hour and a half, Tanner had been orgasming every 90 seconds.
He looked down at his father as his father put the wand box down and reached for the testicle simulator. But he was too late. Tanner came again, this time dry. He writhed in the chair as the testicle stimulator kept him aroused. His father frowned, and reached for the wand, lifting it off his son’s incredibly hard cock. The stimulation was finally gone, but the orgasm, once started, needed to play itself out.
Brett placed his palm against his son’s tummy to calm him as his final orgasm subsided.
“Alright Bub?” he asked.
“Nnn… no. Too many!” his son repeated, his face sheathed in sweat.
Tanner paused and thought.
“No more than f… f… four hours nnn… nnn… next time!”
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