The doctor returned to the exam room a few minutes later, his footsteps measured against the quiet hum of the monitors. Angelo remained exactly as positioned: on all fours on the padded table, his tiny 5’1” frame trembling faintly with the slow, relentless pressure building inside him. The short boy’s massive bubble butt was still fully exposed, the plump, smooth cheeks quivering around the tube as the warm fluid continued its gradual, teasing flow. The thin hospital gown had bunched uselessly around his narrow waist, offering no modesty whatsoever. That hairless pink teen hole stretched visibly around the intrusion, smooth and flushed.
Riley sat frozen in the plastic chair, his white tank top remained tight across his broad, freckled chest. This is insane. I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t be looking at my boyfriend’s barely legal cousin like this. That innocent little brown boy…
The doctor adjusted something on the monitor and nodded approvingly. “The slow fill is giving us excellent baseline data for the gastro-narcolepsy link. Riley, as guardian, you’ll need to be fully comfortable assisting with these procedures at home. The internal massage is non-negotiable. It distributes the fluid, prevents cramping, and helps us assess tolerance. I’ll demonstrate briefly, then you’ll take over while I step out to consult on another case. Gentle but firm circles, pressing deep into the rectal walls. This is a must for anyone responsible for Angelo’s care during observation periods, especially during narcoleptic episodes when he may be asleep or unresponsive.”
Angelo let out a soft, shaky breath, his petite body shifting slightly on the table. The movement made his massive bubble butt jiggle enticingly, the plump cheeks rippling. A tiny, involuntary whimper escaped him.
Riley’s mouth went dry. I should say no. Tell the doctor I’m not qualified. Walk out of this room and never think about this again. But his body stayed rooted in the chair, cock throbbing harder than ever.
The doctor gloved up and stepped close. With clinical precision, he slid a finger alongside the tube, demonstrating the slow, deep massage technique. He worked in luxurious circles, pressing firmly against the inner walls. Angelo’s response was immediate; a long, breathy moan that rose in pitch, soft and needy, vibrating through the small room. The boy’s short frame trembled, his massive bubble butt clenching and relaxing around the intrusion in rhythmic pulses.
“See how he responds?” the doctor said matter-of-factly. “The moaning is normal from nerve stimulation. Keep going deeper. Really work the area. You’ll need to replicate this at home, even if Angelo is fast asleep. Now, familiarize yourself with the tools on the tray while I’m gone. The graduated dilators for progressive stretching, the retention bulb for longer holds, and the curved probe for targeted prostate massage. Practice with them. I’ll be back in thirty minutes.”
The doctor placed the soft black eye mask over Angelo’s eyes once more, securing it gently. “This will help with any remaining self-consciousness, young man. Just relax and let your guardian assist.” With that, he nodded to Riley and slipped out of the room. The door clicked shut with quiet finality.
Silence descended, thick and electric. Riley stood slowly, his towering 6’4” frame casting a long shadow over the tiny 5’1” boy. His hands shook as he gloved up. This is wrong. So fucking wrong. He’s eighteen. Diego’s cousin. Innocent. I can’t touch him like this.
But the temptation was already winning.
“Easy, Angelo,” Riley murmured, voice low and rough with restraint. One big, calloused hand rested on the small of the boy’s back, steadying the short frame. The contrast was obscene: Riley’s large, powerful hand against that smooth, warm brown skin. His thick finger traced the stretched rim slowly, teasing the delicate skin around the tube before pressing in alongside it.
Angelo let out a long, breathy moan — soft and needy. “Sir…”
Fuck… listen to that little whimper. This fresh, hairless pink teen hole is so smooth and tight. Virginal. Perfect. So tiny, so delicate, with that fat juicy bubble butt just begging to be spread and ruined.
Riley worked the finger deeper, massaging in slow circles. Every deliberate stroke drew out another moan from Angelo; longer, breathier, more desperate. The boy’s massive bubble butt quivered, the plump cheeks rippling with each internal caress. Riley added a second finger, stretching the tight ring further, pressing deep as the doctor had instructed, curling to massage the sensitive walls.
Angelo’s moans grew louder, more broken. “Sir… ahh… so deep…”
That’s it, little brown boy. Moan for me. This hairless pink teen pussy is clenching so perfectly around my fingers. Diego has never taken me this easily, but you… you’re swallowing them like you were made for it. Such a good, little slut.
Riley’s free hand dropped to his zipper. The temptation was overwhelming. With Angelo blindfolded and moaning helplessly, he freed his massive big white cock. The thick ten-inch shaft sprang out, heavy and veined, the head already slick with precum. He stripped off his tank top, revealing his powerful, freckled torso glistening with a light sheen of sweat, and started recording with his phone in one hand while his other continued the deep massage.
He angled the camera to capture everything — the way his thick fingers disappeared into that hairless pink hole, the way Angelo’s massive bubble butt jiggled and clenched, the broken little moans spilling from the boy’s lips.
Look at this perfect little brown teen hole stretching for me. So smooth, so pink, so fucking tight. Built so small and delicate with these fat, juicy bubble butts just so big white daddies like me can chase them down and own them completely.
The slow, edged rhythm continued. Riley’s fingers plunged deeper, curling and rubbing, drawing out more and more whimpers and moans from the blindfolded boy. Angelo’s petite body rocked subtly, pushing back against the intrusion without realizing it. His own small cock hardened fully against the table, leaking steadily in a thin, continuous stream.
Riley stroked himself in time with his fingering, long slow pumps, eyes locked on the sight. The doctor’s instructions echoed in his mind, but all he could focus on was the temptation in front of him — this innocent, barely legal brown boy moaning for his touch.
The gentle giant was losing the battle. Riley's white dom daddy side was taking over—one finger at a time, inch by filthy inch.
