In 'Toon 





























 Illustrations by Michael Kirwan  
 Story by Scott Miller   



Previously published in Inches magazine - June, 2001


When Fucking a 'Toon, Fuck Like 'Toons Do


My first time fucking a cartoon was so much better than I'd expected. I'd been working at the Studio for about a month and I'd been watching him every chance I got. When I'd first seen his movie--before I got the job--I couldn't believe it myself. Who knew I could get a hard-on for a cartoon character? I mean, sure the Prince in that mermaid flick had been a looker, but actually getting a stiffer for a 'toon? Yet here I was, head over heels in lust with an animated guy. Though I watched him everywhere he went, I never got to talk to him until one night when I was working the graveyard shift.

I was passing the chief animators' offices when I caught something out of the comer of my eye stirring in the shadows. Reflexively, my hand went to my pistol.

"Somebody out there?" I called. Just because I'm twenty-four years old doesn't mean I don't get scared.

And then he stepped out of the shadows. "Didn't mean to scare you like that," he said with that self-effacing smile that had made me fall for him in the movie. "Just wandering around my old stomping grounds. It's been a while." He came closer, his thick dark hair falling casually down into his eyes. "Must get awful lonely out here at night, nobody to talk to ..."

"To tell you the truth," I said, "it does get pretty creepy. Sometimes I wish somebody was on duty with me."

"Somebody young and handsome?" he grinned again, this time a grin of seduction and youthful self-confidence.

I grinned back. "Absolutely," I said.

"Well, I'm not doing anything tonight," he said. "The genie's got a date tonight and the princess is at some charity dinner. That's why I came down to the studio; I'm just looking for someone--I mean, something--to do."

"I sure would like the company," I said.

"Great! You almost done with your rounds?"

"Yeah. This is my last stop."

"Then why don't we go over to the props department. They've got a lot of comfortable furniture over there. We can just relax and ... well, whatever pops up ..."

The walk to the props department was torture. For the most part, before tonight at least, I didn 't get a chance to talk with many of the 'toons. The few I did talk to were pretty loopy--you couldn't really hold a serious conversation with any of them. And as a guard, I was supposed to leave them alone unless they needed me for something. By the smoldering look in his eyes tonight, this dude definitely needed me for something. And I was gonna do my best to make sure he got what he needed. Generally, I'd found that 'toons had the same sexual preference as their main animators, and since we had a lot of queens running around the animation department, it was obvious that my companion was queer.

As we walked, I got a chance to see up close all the things that I had been whacking off over for the last few years. His shoulders were broad and muscular, narrowing down to a small waist and a deliciously tight little butt. The pants he was wearing were pretty loose, but when he walked, those butt-cheeks were perfectly outlined--all muscle protecting a hidden core and just waiting to be eaten. He was wearing a vest but no shirt, and I could see his massive, hairless chest--the chest that had been bared through most of his movie, the chest that I had dreamed about for so long. His eyes were dark and deep, gentle and also mysterious. And below his strong Roman nose, full, sensuous lips framed a toothpaste commercial smile.

When we got to the props department, we walked through the aisles of props from so many of my favorite films. We laughed as we pointed them out to each other. We finally got to the larger furniture pieces and sat down on a worn, overstuffed couch. He put his arm around my shoulders and smiled that beautiful smile.

"You've been watching me since you came to work here," he said.

"Yeah, I have. I couldn't help it. You're a very attractive guy."

"You're quite a man yourself," he said. At six-one and a hundred and ninety pounds of solid muscle, I was a better-than-decent-looking young guy. I worked out regularly and hoped one day to be an actor. I had short dark hair consciously cut like I was the star of a big-budget thriller. I'd had my guard's uniform cut snug. It fit me like a glove, showing off my, er, frame to its greatest advantage.

So I leaned over and kissed him. It was the first time I'd ever kissed an animated guy. It was so unlike kissing a real person, but it was so exciting I threw an instant woody. I ran my fingers through his thick mane of hair as his mouth moved from mine, smearing over my chin and down my neck. Already this performance has moved beyond a "G" rating, I thought to myself. He loosened my tie then unbuttoned my shirt.

"You don't waste any time, do you?" I asked.

"I'm a fuckin' animal. Let me know if that becomes a problem." His mouth gave my chest a bath as he opened my shirt. He sucked greedily on my left nipple, then bit down hard on it. I let out a yelp of pleasure and pain. As he was doing the same to the other nipple, I slipped his vest off, revealing the chest and shoulders that would put Olympic gymnasts to shame, completely hairless and sculpted like some Greek god. The guy who first drew him had to have been a lonely homosexual with a great imagination.

My hands roamed across his chest in awe and I whispered, "Jesus."

He smiled proudly. "The guy who drew me must've been queer." I laughed at how similarly our minds worked. "And horny. But what the straights don't know won't hurt 'em. And I haven't heard any complaints so far."

"And you'll hear none from me," I said. I licked him all over. His skin was unbelievably smooth, much smoother than a real man's but just as hot. And I could feel the muscles working under his skin--definitely a twenty-first century 'toon. His nipples had become as hard as his biceps, and as I sucked on them, he groaned loudly.





"You're a fuckin' pro, man!" he growled.

My mouth made its way down his granite stomach to his belt. Below it, he was pitching a sizeable tent in his pants. I unbuckled his belt, opened his pants and out sprang his cock--to a height of at least three or four feet. I screamed and my jaw hit the floor. Slowly, his dick returned to a less abnormal size, although still huge by human standards.

"Hope that didn't scare you," he laughed. "You know how it is--everything that's important is bigger in the cartoons!"

Even after it returned to a more realistic size, it was still easily eleven inches long. He had a generous growth of black pubic hair at its base and thick veins running the length of the shaft. The most unnerving thing was that it visibly throbbed with each beat of his heart. It was like a living animal.

I squeezed his cock and whispered in his ear, "Three wishes, master. What'll it be?"

"Suck my fuckin' cock 'til I bust!"

"Your wish is my command, you gorgeous hunk." I leaned down and took him in my mouth, just the tip at first, then more and more as my throat relaxed. Meanwhile, he reached down and opened my pants, freeing my aching dick at last. He grabbed it and started pumping.

"I've always wondered what a human cock felt like," he leered. "I think I could get used to this."

I stopped my sucking and looked up at him. "You mean you've done this with other cartoons?"

"Whaddya think I'm a fuckin' monk?" he laughed. "The princess is on the chilly side. Fact is, I wouldn't fuck her for all of Hollywood."

"Are there a lot of gay 'toons?"

He laughed out loud. "Give me a break! This is showbiz! I've done more men than the Army--animated men, that is. How do you think I got my own feature film? Now quit your loafin', slave. I'm still waiting on that first wish!"

I eagerly went back to his cock, now easily deep-throating him, squeezing his wacky wand with my throat muscles. I heard his breath quickening as he started chanting, "Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck ..." Smoke started pouring out of his ears--literally--and I heard the sound of a train whistle. His eyes turned into giant spirals. I took my mouth off of him and pumped him with both hands. And then he came--faster than a speeding bullet, more powerful than a locomotive.

He just kept shooting joy juice in a geyser reaching four or five feet up to the ceiling. His dick swelled up bigger and bigger, then turned into a huge stick of dynamite and exploded, making a huge bang. When he finally finished, his dick turned back into a dick--or a convincing facsimile of one--and I leaned over and licked him clean. I collapsed onto his chest and he put his arms around me.

"Damn, you're good!" he said cheerfully.

"Any more surprises I should know about?" I asked.

"Oh, there are always more surprises. I'm a 'toon! That's why you love me!" he said. "How'd you like to be personal assistant to a movie star?"

"How's the pay?"

"It pays great and the benefits are dynamite!"

"So I've seen," I said.

He got up and took my hand, leading me to a big four-poster bed a few feet away. He pushed my shoulders down until he was pinning me on the bed. He leaned down, and before I knew what was happening, he deep-throated me without the slightest difficulty. He squeezed my rod for a while, then looked up at me.

"There are advantages to being a 'toon. Everything's stretchable."

I smiled. "Everything?"

"Oh, yes." He sucked me for a couple of minutes. Then he climbed up onto my lap and lowered his ass onto my stiff cock. Again, with unreal ease, my entire eight-and-a-half inches slid up his rubbery butt. As he slowly moved up and down on my dick, he licked his forefinger and reached around behind him. I felt his finger poke my asshole, even as my prick poked his. The finger probed gently at first, then more aggressively. It moved into me. Then it seemed to grow in girth as he started to finger-fuck me. And as it got thicker, it also got longer. It felt like it was reaching up into my stomach! As I fucked his ass, he fucked mine in perfectly synchronized rhythm. He would raise his ass until the head of my cock popped out, then smash himself back down onto it. It was so good it almost hurt. He increased his pumping speed until his body literally became a blur. Again, I heard the train whistle.

I felt myself cumming, and just as the moment hit me, he thrust that magic finger into the deepest regions of my ass and I came with the force of a Saturday morning superhero. Just as I let loose, he began spurting again, all over my face and chest. I licked the cum that landed on my face and he leaned down and licked it off my chest. When it was done, he rolled off of me, breathing like a racehorse.





After a few minutes, he sat up, facing me. He pulled himself up against me so that the bases of our cocks were together. He put his hand around our two dicks and started rubbing them. To tell the truth, mine was getting a little sore after that last train ride. Then my eyes bugged out--he wrapped his dick around mine like a snake, like a stripe on a barber's pole, his dick spiraling up around my own. On a real guy that would've hurt like a son of a bitch, had it even been possible. But my fuck-buddy was a 'toon. Lucky him. Lucky me.

He jacked us off together and I noticed my own dick starting to grow bigger and bigger. It was as if having his huge 'toon cock wrapped around mine made my cock work like a 'toon, too. Soon, our two dicks were towering over us, and the feeling was out of this world. It was like the best hand-job I'd ever had several times over. We were both getting close to shooting. Suddenly, I heard the sound effects coming out of him--engines, beeps, an announcer doing a countdown, radio static. It was like we were at Cape Kennedy waiting for blastoff. When he got to "ignition, lift-off," we both shot--in perfect unison-- the biggest load of cum I'd ever seen. It shot straight up into the air and then formed a giant heart of jism that hovered over us. An invisible hand wrote "I love you" in the heart. My 'toon stud smiled, proud and shy at the same time.

He was covered with sweat, and it occurred to me that he hadn't sweat until now, even though I'd been soaked with perspiration since we'd started. I asked, "Why are you sweating now, but not before?"

"Is it a problem?" he asked.

"God, no! I love a sweaty man after sex," I assured him.

He shrugged and smiled. "That's why." He scooted up next to me on the bed and we fell asleep in each other's arms.

The next morning, he woke me just before the morning shift would start arriving. "I have a present for you," he said. And he handed me what looked like a rubber sheath just the size of my dick.

"I'm almost afraid to ask what it is," I smiled.

"It's something to remember me by until we see each other again. Put it on." I looked at it, unsure of what exactly to do with it. He took it from me and slid it on my dick.

"Now what?" I asked.

"Think of what you'd like to be doing with me." I pictured his mouth around my cock and all of a sudden I could feel it. I could feel his lips, the inside of his mouth, his tongue, his clutching throat. But he wasn't touching me.

"It's your own personal 'Toon Dick Buddy. Whatever you want, it'll give it to you. Of course, it's not as good as me, so you'll have to come back for the real thing once in a while."

"You know I will!" I got dressed and kissed him goodbye, knowing I'd see him again in another fifteen hours. As I walked away, I felt a hand grab my ass. I spun around, but he was standing nearly twenty feet away, with a shit-eating grin on his face. He blew me a kiss, which fluttered through the air and landed on my cheek with a big splat. It was going to take some time to adjust to, but I decided I was going to like fucking a 'toon.




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