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Nonconsensual indeed. There are many types of nonconsensual. My own for example. I am not consenting to my desires, and my needs, and yet I force myself to do the most perverted disgusting things. I am a pervert of lust to my three sons. Not that they know it. As a young man, I was bi-sexual, but put aside my gay yearnings and married a lovely woman who gave me three healthy sons.
Unfortunately, she died young, and as my boys grew into their teen years, my gay urges re-emerged. My oldest boy is seventeen, my second fifteen, and my youngest thirteen. They are typical wild young jocks, their heads filled with sex and foolishness, and as their father, I am trying to be a good parent, while sexually going out of my mind. Take this morning for example.
Chris, my seventeen-year-old, came stomping into the kitchen as I was making breakfast. He was bare-ass naked. The boys thought nothing of running around the house naked as they were all typical teen boys, and proud of their young manhood. Christ walked right over to me with his big thick six-inch flaccid prick swinging over his plump, jock nuts. He was the star athlete of his high school, and his body was teenage perfection. He knew it too.
"Jesus Christ, Dad. Kenny is wearing my fucking jock strap and won’t give it back."
I tried to remain calm, and hide the hard on behind my short kitchen apron. I was a Mister Mom, a successful architect, who stayed home to raise his sons between projects.
Kenny fifteen, and slenderer than Chris, but with a snotty, punk face and a cruel sense of humor came running in wearing nothing but his big brother’s jock strap over his bulging teen prick and balls.
Kenny was hung almost as big as Chris was, and both had lots more than me.
"I need to borrow it, Dad. I have a game after school. What, do you want me to get my balls torn off?"
Chris smiled and sat down naked, waiting for me to serve him. When he sat, he spread his legs, so his big nuts dripped over the edge of the chair. He raised his right leg and rested his big, bare foot on the kitchen table.
"Chris, take your foot off the table," I said setting down the plate of four eggs and bacon and toast.
"Shit, my leg hurts from swimming yesterday," he said not removing his foot from the table at all.
His big fat dick and balls looked obscene when he sat that way.
“Kenny, where is your jockstrap?" I asked.
"In the clothes hamper, it was too rank to wear again. I’ve been wearing it for two months without washing it."
"No wonder your dick is rotting off," Christ taunted, his mouth full of food.
"Well, Kenny, it’s your fault you don’t bring the jock home from school to wash more often. But Chris, he can’t play today without a pouch, so you'll have to let him wear yours."
"Here, he can wear mine,” said Timmy, my thirteen-year-old, as he entered the kitchen wearing boxer shorts, and handing a somewhat dirty jock strap to Kenny.
"I can't wear your’s, Timmy. Your dick and balls are too damn small that the jock won't fit me."
I honestly didn’t know if I would even make it through breakfast without shooting my load.
"Tell them, Dad. Tell them my dick is fucking huge for a thirteen-year-old."
"Boys, please sit down and eat. Tim, your penis is just fine for your age. Don't worry about it."
"Yeah, it’s nice and big from whacking it all the time. All night, thump, thump, thump, thump," Chris laughed.
Chris shared a room with Timmy, while Kenny slept on a roll out couch bed in the living room We didn’t have a very big house at the moment, but things would be better when the new project came through.
Kenny roared and spat out some milk.
"Does he really beat his meat all night?"
"Shut up, you fucker! You beat off too. I even saw you playing with it while watching TV."
"Saw, Timmy. You saw him,” I contributed.
“Yeah, Dickwad, but I fuck girls too. I don’t stick my fingers up my ass like you do to get off."
“Kenny, my man,” more intent suddenly, Chris asked, "How’s that bitch Steffi you fucked last week? I wouldn’t mind getting into her snatch."
"She is a prime cunt. I'll pass her on to you when I get sick of her. She's starting in on the love shit, and the forever crap already.
“Not a bad piece for a fourteen-year-old though."
“You boys are much wilder than boys were in my day," I said, not much interested in breakfast.
"Yeah, Dad, we wear clothes instead of animal skins too."
All three boys roared at that one.
"Dad, I’m serious now," Timmy said, making his little boy pouty face. "Chris is always fucking his bitch of a girlfriend in our bedroom, and I don’t give a shit, but he leaves his used rubbers all over the floor, and the room stinks like his cum."
Kenny raised one large teen hand, "Puh-lease, I am eating."
Chris, who has a bad temper, pounded the table.
"Fucking Christ, Dad, where the fuck am I supposed to fuck the bitch, out on the back lawn? You know we can't go to her house. What the fuck do you suggest, maybe here on the kitchen table?"
"Now, now, now, calm down, Chris. Nobody expects you to fuck on the floor. Of course, you can use your room.
“I'm sorry that our living conditions are so cramped, but, it’s only until the project is finished, and our new house is built. We knew these months would be rough.
“Timmy is just suggesting that you clean up your mess after. Sometimes your bedsheets are stiff with cum and cunt juice. Can't you at least throw them into the clothes hamper?”
“He pisses on his girlfriend too. The room stinks like piss,” Timmy said.
"Yes, Chris, I have seen urine stains."
“Cool," Kenny shouted and high-fived his older brother.
“Okay, okay. I'll clean up when I have time."
I knew he wouldn’t. All three boys were the kind who just dropped their underpants and socks on the floor, and it was up to me to clean up after them. They often didn’t even flush the toilet after pissing and shitting. Their minds were on boy things.
As they left for school, I heard Chris asking Timmy to introduce him to a certain thirteen-year-old cunt in Timmy's eighth-grade class. I guess the boys were betting on who could fuck her first. Chris almost always won such bets – not only because of his enormous dick size, and killer good looks but because of his natural charm and dominant personality. It was almost impossible to say no to Chris about anything.
After they had left, I cleaned up. When I got to the boys’ room, I stood there – naked now – beating my own six-inch hard on. Timmy's dick was my size, and Kenny and Chris were much larger. I am so fucking proud of my sons when I look at their enormous cocks.
I saw the stretched out used cum filled rubbers on the floor, four of them. Chris had fucked his latest girlfriend four times after school the day before. I knelt down almost unconsciously and started to crawl across the floor with my hard dick slapping my thighs and my balls aching. I bent down my head sucking in one of the cock and cunt slogged rubbers into my mouth. I knew from the past that if I sucked with enough spit, the dried cum would get wet and runny, and I would be able to taste my son’s fuck slop. The other rubbers I would save for later.
With the dirty rubber in my mouth, I crawled over to the clothes hamper and fished out Kenny's filthy prick pouch. It was true; he hadn’t cleaned it in months. It was stiff with piss and dick drippings, and stank of teenage boy cock. I put the jockstrap over my head with the pouch on my face while thinking about my hot, teenage, fucking sons.
I crawled over to Timmy's bed and put my head down where his dick and balls and ass rested so I could lick the discolored sheet. Timmy only washed his sheets about once a month. Then, swallowing the fuck slime running from the now wet rubber, licking the dirty boy bed sheet, and smelling Kenny's jock strap, I beat my dick until I had my usual satisfying morning cum. Later in the day, for my second blast, I would suck the piss and fuck stains from Chris' dirty sheet while chewing on Kenny's filthy fuck strap.
Then I would work on the hole I was drilling in the ceiling so I could watch my boy fuck his bitches from the attic. I had to figure out a way to get Kenny to bring more of his cunts home to our house. I loved watching my sons’ naked asses rise and fall as they fucked their girls.
I fantasized about someday licking the ass cracks of my handsome boys, and sticking my tongue up their assholes. I hate myself. The sex is nonconsensual. I don’t consent to do such perverted things, but I cannot help myself. I am a prisoner of my fucking lust for my sons.
I went out to have some repairs on the car done, and to do some grocery shopping. When I returned, all three of my sons were home from school, and sports practice. I walked in on my fifteen-year-old son, Kenny, making out with some young girl on the couch. He had her cheerleader top pushed up, her bra off, and was mauling her tits while slopping spit into her mouth. When the young girl saw me, she went all stiff, and scared, but Kenny just made an ugly face at me.
"Jesus, Dad, isn't it bad enough I haven't got a bedroom of my own in this fucking house, do you have to come creeping around when I'm with my girl?"
With my girl indeed, this was an entirely different girl from the one he was fucking last week. What in God's name were fifteen-year-old boys becoming?
"Unfortunately son, I have to go through the living room to get to the kitchen."
"Not if you use the back door you don't. Now, please get the hell out. I was just getting to know Sally here. Don't mind the old fart, Sally. Now where were we? Oh, yeah, I was just telling you that I feel different about you than I have ever felt for any girl before. You are really special to me," he said this while pulling on her nipples.
I gotta say, the bitch wasn't resisting too much.
"Daaaaad, will you get the hell out of here?"
"All right son, I'll go into my office for a while, but dinner is at six."
I walked into my office, only to find my thirteen-year-old son, Timmy, bare-ass naked and jerking his teenage prick while watching some fuck videos. I know most teenage boys jerk off after school, so it didn’t shock me as much as the way he was behaving. He was bare-ass in my leather chair, his young, strong legs thrown over the arms, and he was sticking one finger up his asshole while he pumped his prick with his other hand. He was sweating and moaning, but none of that shocked me. What threw me for a loop was the video he was watching. It was a very young girl getting fucked by a big, black dog. The dog cock was almost splitting the young pussy in two.
"Tim! Where did you get that video? Shame on you."
I knew as a dad I had to say something, although secretly I wanted to stand there and watch my sexy son spank the monkey. He turned his cute face to look over the side of the leather chair at me.
"Fuck it, Dad, can't a guy even beat his meat in privacy around here? Great father, you turned out to be."
“I'm really sorry son. I don't object to your masturbating you know that, but that’s a really perverted, sick video. Where did you get it?"
"From one of my buddies at school, and I was just about to blow a really good load thank you very much. Now my boner's going down.”
Shit, why wouldn’t it? What normal, healthy thirteen-year-old boy likes to have his dad watch him jerk off?
"I wasn't watching you son, but why don’t you use your room for that kind of, eh, activity? I have work to do in here."
Now my youngest son stood up to face me, his prick half-hard and very red from being jerked so hard. His hairless nuts bounced as he walked toward me, and poked a finger in my chest.
“I would fucking love to jerk off in the privacy of my room, but my seventeen-year-old brother Chris is in "our" room fucking the shit out of this new girl in my eighth-grade class. A girl I coulda nailed until she saw him!"
I stood there helpless, looking down at my bare-ass son, wanting to kiss him, to touch his dick, to suck it, to lick his teenage asshole, and knowing I couldn’t do any of these things. It was driving me nuts.
“Eh, I'll, go into the kitchen and get dinner started."
"FINE,” he almost spat at me. "AND NEXT TIME KNOCK FIRST!"
He turned back to the chair, his hand going down to play with his balls and dick. Oh, fuck, I so wanted to smell the finger that had been up that ass. I wanted to bury my face between the smooth, hairless, well-toned cheeks of that boy ass.
While I was making dinner in the kitchen, Chris walked in absolutely naked as a jaybird and proud of it. He must have walked right by his brother Kenny making out with the freshman cheerleader.
Chris' huge dick was wet, and red looking with either cock slop or cunt slime dripping from the tip. It coated his big nuts and made them glisten.
“How's it going, Dad?" he asked, slapping me on the back.
"Where's, uh, your young friend?" I asked trying to be stern.
“What young friend?” He reached up and scratched one quarter-sized nipple, and I almost came in my pants.
"The young lady you have upstairs in your room."
"Oh, the cunt!" he smiled his killer smile. “She's sleeping off losing her cherry. Jeez her pussy was tight, Dad."
"Should be, I hear she's only thirteen."
He rested his hands on his slender hips and cocked his head to one side.
"Chris, we could get in big trouble for you fucking a thirteen-year-old girl in the house. I could go to jail."
He waved his hands and jumped from bare foot to bare foot in a comic dance.
"Oooh, then I guess I better be careful."
His dick swung when he danced and started to thicken. I couldn't take my eyes off of it. Hard it was almost twice as long as mine.
"Why don't you send her home, Chris?"
"Cause I might wanna throw another fuck into her before dinner. Shit, I'd let Timmy fuck her, but he's such a faggot."
“You shouldn't call your younger brother a faggot, Chris. He's just much younger than you boys. Remember, he's only thirteen. Boys develop at different rates. In my day, lots of guys didn’t fuck until they were nineteen or twenty."
Chris laughed his wide-grinned good-natured laugh. Shit, he was handsome.
"My balls woulda' exploded long ago."
He reached down and cupped his big nuts, and I almost shot off in my pants. God how I lusted after my sons.
"If I ever thought for even a second that Timmy was a faggot. I swear to God, Dad, I'd kill him."
Here I was, a closet bi-sexual or worse, and lusting after my sons, and hearing this.
"Don't you ever say anything like that, Christopher!"
"It's true, Dad. Jesus, but I hate faggots. There are a couple in school, and they hang around the locker room just so they can see my dick when I change. One of these days I'm gonna beat the fuck out of them."
While he talked, he fingered his huge dick, and it started to get hard.
“Chris, you shouldn’t be so prejudiced against gays. You think it’s cool when a girl loves your healthy, young body, and your penis You should be flattered that those boys admire you. They can't help being gay."
Chris smiled, “How about when I shove a baseball bat up their assholes. Will they admire that too? By the way, Dad, I need fifty bucks for some computer shit."
"Chris, I already gave you a hundred last week.”
He walked up real close to me. He was as tall as I was, and he reached out one of his large hands and took my jaw in it. The hand smelled like cock sweat.
"Yeah, Dad, that was last week. And this is this week."
He turned, his muscular ass globes rolling as he walked out of the kitchen.
"You shouldn’t walk around the house like that. Kenny has a friend over."
Chris laughed again
"Yeah, a friend – right – he’s feeding her his dick right now."
Why, why did these lovely young girls put up with this kind of treatment from boys? Did they secretly crave it? Did I secretly crave it? I took one of Chris' used rubbers out of my trouser pocket and gently dipped it into a pan I had on the burner with hot water in it. I watched the cum in the used dick sheath turn to slimy white liquid.
While my sons ate real dressing on their salads at dinner, I would be eating my own seventeen-year-old boy’s cum and savoring every mouthful.
I was slowly losing control of my family. I knew that. Part of me got turned on by it. My sons were taking over, ordering me around the house as if I was a fucking maid. I don't know who started it anymore. Chris I suspect, but soon the boys hardly talked to me father to son anymore, they just gave me orders.
Moreover, even though they are only teenagers, all three of them so fucking masculine. Such jocks and such studs with the girls, that I feel unmanned by them. I feel it’s only right that I serve them. After all, they have been deprived of a mother, and it’s my duty.
Timmy fucked his first pussy that same week. It was the same eighth-grade cunt that Chris had broken in. She had been a sweet girl, trusting Chris with a big crush on him, but now she was just a passed around piece of twat ass. Chris brought his teammates over to fuck her. If she didn’t do as he wished, he would deprive her of his big, fat dick, and like most of the girls who experienced Chris' fuck meat, she was addicted, even at thirteen. I wondered what her family would think if they could see her sucking off all three of my boys going from cock to cock. Then again, I guess in this day and age it’s just normal healthy teenage fun.
I was in my office when Timmy came in wearing only piss stained, white briefs. He had overly large feet like most thirteen-year-olds, with well-formed legs from soccer and he was a tough little stud who still had an almost too pretty, baby face.
"Dad, can you look at this?" he asked sounding like a little boy suddenly. They try so hard to be grown up studs, but often they are just little boys inside.
"Look at what, son?" I asked, taking in his great beauty and once again feeling the rising guilt at lusting after my teenage sons.
"At my dick."
He peeled down his underpants, and his teenage pecker and nuts flopped into view. My cock sprang to attention, and I had to hide it.
"What's the problem son?"
"Ever since I fucked that bitch the other day, I've had this sore here on my prick head, and it burns real bad."
I tried to see the sore clearly, but his dick was hanging down, so I reached out and lifted it in my hand. There I sat, holding the cock of my thirteen-year-old son.
"Oh that, that's nothing to worry about son. That's just a place where your dick skin got rubbed raw from fucking too hard. It’s like a rug burn. You were probably beating off a lot before you fucked her and your dick was already tender, and then you fucked her how many times in one afternoon?"
Timmy looked down at his teen prick, studying it.
"Five times. No wonder you are a bit sore. That should heal in a few days. What did the girl think of getting fucked by you five times in a row?"
"Who the fuck cares? I woulda stopped after three, but Chris kept calling me a faggot. Said I had to go again to prove I was a man. He can be such a dick sometimes."
"I do hope your older brother is giving you a proper sexual education. I know I should have talked to you about the birds and the bees, but after your mother died I just kind of lost it for a while, and besides, I feel that older brothers can do a better job. They can talk more openly to you."
As I held the boy's dick in my hands, I felt it grow thicker from my touch. My prick was leaking in my pants.
"Aw, Chris is okay. He’s a good brother. It’s just that he teases me all the time, though, even in front of my friends. He’s always saying stuff. Like I am always after him to suck his dick, and sick shit like that."
"Well, he's just kidding around son. Boys do kid around like that. Besides, you know your brother is the most popular boy in the school. He probably has lots of girls, and even some guys after him."
(yeah, like his fucking father I wanted to add but didn’t.)
"Yeah, shit, I hope I'm that popular when I get to eleventh grade. Christ, he’s not even a senior yet, and almost any girl in the school will suck him, or spread for him. He even fucks his buddies' girlfriends behind their backs. It’s fucking awesome."
"He'd better be careful. A person can lose friends that way. I remember in high school that my heart was broken when I found out that the girl I loved and had been going steady with for two years was sucking off the captain of the football team. It just destroyed me."
Timmy laughed, and lightly slapped my cheek.
"That's just because you are such a wuss, Dad. You never stood up to those guys. So your bitch was doing other guys behind your back?"
“Yes, and I loved her so much. It turned me off to girls for quite a while."
I didn’t add that that’s when I began to fool around with guys.
"Shit, this football dude that your bitch was blowing was his dick a lot bigger than yours?"
“You know, son; it’s not always the size of the dick that matters."
“Yeah Dad, you small dicked guys always say that. Fuck, if my dick doesn’t grow any bigger, I'll fucking kill myself."
"But son, you are only thirteen, and your dick is already six inches. That’s as large as mine."
Timmy made a face.
"Fuck that shit, Dad. You think I wanna go through life with a peanut dick like you?"
His prick was hard now in my hand. I don't know why, but I couldn’t let go of him. With my other hand, I reached up and cupped his young, smooth, hairless nuts. The bag felt like velvet.
“Jesus, Dad, when Chris fucks some bimbo twat she walks bow legged for a week. Everybody in school knows he slammed her. That’s what I want."
"Well son, your big brother is certainly someone to look up to. He’s a real stud all right."
I wanted to tell Timmy how much I lusted after Chris' fat slab of teenage fuck meat, but I knew I dare not. All three of my boys hated faggots with a vengeance.
Timmy smiled, and the little boy showed through.
"Yeah, fuck, you know what the fucking dude did last week. Shit, it was awesome. He had Jenny Clayborne give him a blowjob before lunch then he blows off all over her face. Shit, she was a fucking mess.
“Then he tells her that if she ever wants his dick again, she has to go into the lunch room with him that way so all the kids can see his fuckload dripping off of her face. She cried and said no way, so he grabs the bitch by the neck and marches her right into the lunchroom at school. About a hundred kids saw her and knew what was going on.
“Shit, her nipples were pushing through her sweater because he had taken the cunt's bra away from her and pecker slime covered the front of her sweater. It was all over her face too, and she was crying, and it was clotted in her hair. It was fucking hilarious."
"Couldn’t he get in trouble with the teachers by doing things like that?"
"Shit, the teachers are either afraid of him or want his bod, or are just stupid. The stupid ones don't matter, and the scared ones aren't worth shit so who cares?
“Do you know, Dad, that he didn’t even take half the tests or read the books in English this year. He’s fucking Miss Trent. That's how he gets A's. Calls her his bitch right in front of his buddies and stuff. She takes it too, cause she is in love with his cock.
“He even says if he gets that faggot, Mr. Callan, next semester, he'll let him swing on his dick for an A. Of course, Chris says he'll cripple the sick mother fucker afterward too.
“Chris says now that I fucked cunt and am old enough, I can go along with the guys next time they go fag bashing."
I released my son's rampant dick and pulled back in my chair.
"Ah, yes, well, I'm glad Chris and Kenny include you in their, ah, activities."
Fag-bashing was a pastime of my sons I hadn't known. Jesus God, it terrified me. What if they ever learned about me? About my secret desires?
"Yeah, they really got this one young fag last week. A college kid. Six of them ganged up on his queer ass and made him suck all their dicks, then they shoved a tire iron up the kid's ass, and made him dance naked for them that way, then they made the faggot fuck himself with a baseball bat while they kicked him. Kenny said it was the funniest thing he ever saw. I wish I coulda been there."
"Well, son, I'm sure you have lots of fun experiences to look forward to. You're still young. You could join the newspaper at school or the choir or maybe."
"I wanna do what Chris did. I wanna take a dump on a faggot’s face."
“Chris did that? Our Chris?"
"Christ, Dad, he does cool stuff like that all the time. He's ace, Dad, really ace. Now I'm all hot and bothered. I'm gonna go upstairs and jerk off to some porno videos."
He turned, and walked to the door, his thirteen-year-old bare-ass mounds rising and falling. At the door, he turned to me as his fat, six-inch dick bobbed and leaked.
"Thanks, Dad. And Dad, Mom’s been dead a while now. You really ought to go out and get some pussy. It’s not normal, Dad. Anyway, thanks again."
"Anytime, son. Anytime."
Perhaps my sons suspected I was a fucking pervert long before the incidents that proved it. I don't know, but I do know that they treated me more and more like an in-house slave and less and less like a dad.
Take the incident at the school that afternoon. I went like a devoted father to watch Kenny my fifteen-year-old son in a wrestling tournament. Well, that's how I lied to myself.
Part of the reason, I went was to watch those high school boys force the faces of their opponents into their bulging dick crotches. Tell me boys who choose wrestling don't like to feel other kids faces in their fuck mounds and ass cracks.
My son was the tough, brutal wrestler who almost always won, but often over did his roughness and was warned by the coaches. He would just strut around in his singlet, strong young arms in the air, his armpit hair slick with sweat, and his teenage prick, almost erect, pushing out the front of his uniform.
Sometimes I watched the faces of the girls in the stands rooting for our team. They were leaking pussy juice no doubt, and wishing they could suck on my son's huge slab of fuck meat. I didn't blame them one bit. It was my secret desire too. The difference was most of the cute girls in the school at some time, or other had sucked my son's fat cock, but I had to suffer in silence. As if he could read my thoughts, Kenny turned to the bleachers full of high school girls, smiled and reached down and cupped his huge dick and ball lump. A few teachers were incensed while others looked turned on.
After the meet, I hurried back to the locker room to congratulate my son. Well, that's what I told myself. It was also to try to see those hunky fourteen to seventeen-year-old high school boys running around playing slap ass completely naked, and soaping up their babymakers and hoses in the shower. Boys that age just exude fuck, and you know it.
My son was standing next to his locker totally naked and totally uncaring. His fat fifteen-year-old prick is swinging as he high-fived the other guys and received congratulations from other students and parents. More than a few of the fathers in that locker room were staring openly at my son's huge dick. I could see that. Fucking perverts. Why the fuck didn’t my boy at least wrap a towel around his waist? It was as if he was showing off, and flirting with everyone.
When he turned, I saw the large muscled mounds of his hunky teenage ass and the deep, deep dark ass crack. I couldn't help it. I sprang a boner over my own son's prick and ass. I sprang a huge hard fucking boner.
When had I started to think of my boys as sex objects? How long after my beautiful, loving wife died had my thoughts turned back to the kind of lust I had felt in my bi-sexual youth? I didn't want to lay in my bed at night beating my prick thinking about the bodies of my three boys. I didn't want to, but I did. I didn't want to crawl down the hall and press my ear to the door so I could listen to one of my sons fucking his girlfriend, but I did, and I tried to spy through the keyhole too. It was fucking sick.
At seventeen, my oldest son Chris, the most animal-like of the boys, had fucked much more than I had in all my life, and I hate to admit it, but my fifteen-year-old son probably had fucked more cunt than me too.
One of my son's teammates, dressed in just a jockstrap ran over and tried to snap Kenny with a towel. Kenny twisted out of the way, and his big dick swung up and slapped his thigh. Jesus, it was huge. His big, lightly-haired balls slapped from side to side.
"Cocksucker!" Kenny yelled at the other boy good-naturedly.
All the parents standing around laughed at the teenage boy roughhousing, but I almost shot off in my pants.
Mr. Clark, Kenny's English teacher who was only twenty-five and some said a faggot came closer and put a hand on Kenny's shoulder to congratulate him. Kenny was not an excellent student, and I had a hunch Mr. Clark wasn't fond of him for his mind.
Kenny smiled broadly at something Mr. Clark said, then he lifted one leg and put his bare foot on the bench. That showed me his hunky young ass, but it presented his fat fifteen-year-old prick and thick full fuck sack to Mr. Clark's closer vision.
Mr. Clark couldn't fucking help it. His eyes left Kenny's face, and he looked right down at the teenage boy's prick and sack. No wonder my son got good grades even though he seldom studied. I heard a rumor that he was fucking five or six female teachers in the school, and now I believed it.
Kenny reached over into his locker and removed a towel. His body was still wringing wet with sweat. He dropped the towel onto the floor.
"Fuck, Mr. Clark, could you hand me my towel please?"
Mr. Clark knelt down on the locker room floor and picked up the boy's towel. Kenny put a hand on Mr. Clark's shoulder and gently sat him down on the bench before he took the towel. Now Kenny was standing with one leg up on the bench, and his fat fifteen-year-old girl fucker and swollen baby makers were only a few inches from Mr. Clark's face. Poor young Mr. Clark couldn't look anywhere but at the prick and nuts of my son.
All the while Kenny received compliments and chatted away. As he turned this way and that, his teen dick swung closer and closer to Mr. Clark's face. It was only about three inches away. It was as if the swinging cock hypnotized the poor English teacher. Hypnotized by boy dick. Kenny threw the towel over his shoulder and swung his leg from the bench. Mr. Clark almost got slapped in the face by teen prick.
"Oh, Mr. Clark, is it okay if I hand in that paper a couple of days late? I've been really stressed with the meet and all."
"Eh, yeah sure, Kenny, no problem."
As Kenny turned, Mr. Clark was presented with the sight of the boy's muscular ass globes and crack scant inches from his face. I'm sure he could smell the stink of sweat coming from the ass crack. My prick was painfully erect. How could a fifteen-year-old boy control adult men like this? I knew all my sons hated faggots. That's why I was having such a hard time with my re-appearing bi-sexuality.
"Dad," Kenny shouted, seeing me standing there. The boy took one step back, and his ass went right into Mr. Clark's face. I don't know if Kenny didn't know it or what, but he didn't move right away. Well, if anything he seemed to grind his hips a bit and push his ass back even further.
Kenny slapped a fellow student aside. The kid crashed into a locker, and Kenny opened his arms and embraced me. I smelled his sweat stink. I felt his slick wet body. He pressed his teen dick right against me as he hugged me.
"Thanks for coming, Dad," he said.
Why couldn't he be this nice to me at home I wondered. I could smell his hair, and the sweat on his neck as my hands slid across his strong young back and shoulders.
"Good job, son. I am very proud of you."
He stepped back. His big nipples were like darts, and below, below the bush, his teenage dick looked thick and so big, bigger flaccid than mine was hard.
" I gotta hit the showers before those faggots use up all the soap. I'll be right back."
I sank onto the bench next to Mr. Clark, and we both watched my son’s ass mounds roll as he strolled toward the shower.
"Way to go, Kenny," some boy yelled. "You really slammed Johnson."
“Yeah, did you hear about our private bet? Now he's gotta suck my dick right in front of his girlfriend."
"You're, uh, Kenny's English teacher. How's he doing in your class?" I asked Mr. Clark who couldn’t very well hide his big hard on either.
"Fine. Kenny's doing just fine. Nothing to worry about."
One of his hands grabbed his fuck bulge as he started at my son's ass.
Another kid, who was about fourteen, and must have been on the freshman squad came running in and opened the locker next to me. He was freshly showered, and as he leaned over to retrieve his underpants, his bare ass brushed the cheek of my face.
"I, eh, I have to try to get to more of these meets."
"Oh, yes, they show real school spirit."
The boy next to me turned to a buddy of his further on down, and now the boy’s small, but beautiful prick was bobbing about an inch from my nose.
"Criswell, you motherfucker, wait up. You gotta give me a ride home."
"Well then, dry your God damned pussy and kick some ass. I got a date tonight."
I turned to Mr. Clark as the boy slid his boxer shorts up over his lean hips.
"Their language is–"
"Oh, it’s colorful. Just innocent boy talk. I kind of admire it It's so free and easy."
A boy behind us of about sixteen hurled a soaking wet jockstrap right passed our faces and it hit the boy next to me in the head.
"Hey, Cuntface, is this your twat cover?"
The boy next to me, now dressed in cargo pants but still bare chested laughed.
"Yeah it is, I thought you wanted to take it home with you to suck on."
Just then Kenny came back, drying himself with his towel as he walked. Mr. Clark and I stood up.
"Sorry Dad, but I gotta hurry. Some of us are going over to Mickey D's, and there's a chance I might be able to score with the cute cunt who works there.”
Kenny quickly slipped on his boxers and pants The younger boy was finishing up.
"Thanks for coming to the meet Mr. Clark, and thank you, Dad.
"No problem." we both said at the same time like stupid groupies.
We just stood there watching the boy dress in silence. He got into his shoes and socks, shirt, and letter jacket, and then turned to me.
"Dad could you take some of this shit home for me. I don't wanna lug it."
I smiled, happy to help.
"No problem son."
He reached into his locker and hauled out a pile of books that I had to hold in both arms. Then he put an old pair of sneakers on top of the pile. They smelled rank. Then he dug out his wrestling singlet that was wringing wet with sweat and slapped that on top of the mess before he shoved some filthy socks into the lump of clothing and books. There I stood arms full as I smiled at my stud son.
"Okay, Dad, see you later then. Get something good for dessert tonight. Not that shit that Timmy likes."
He turned to go.e
"Oh yeah, better take Chris his jock strap before he has a baby over it. Selfish son of a bitch."
He stuck the wringing wet, stinking jock strap right on top of the pile Right in front of my face. I could smell his prick and nuts. The strap belonged to my oldest boy and had been worn by him already. Now with Kenny wearing it to the wrestling match, it was even worse, stinking to high heaven of boy balls and prick. Kenny was out of there.
I stood there stupidly then took a step and almost dropped everything. I just managed to open my mouth to catch the falling jock strap between my teeth. Dick sweat dripped from it into my mouth. I stood there with my son's jock strap hanging from my mouth.
"Eh, you must be a very busy man," Mr. Clark said. "If you'd like, I am happy to help you out and wash your son's gym stuff," he said with a smile.
Looking back, it was my fault. Perhaps psychologically, I wanted them to know. My sons I mean. Maybe I wanted them to know I was a closet faggot. I was a successful architect, but incredibly lonely raising three boys by myself in that small temporary house in which we lived while my personally designed dream home sat there unfinished after my wife died.
My life was on hold, and I was starting to revert to the bisexual and gay yearnings I had put aside for wife and family. My sons who were homophobic teens with more than healthy hormones didn’t help. They were all so fucking masculine and so bursting with testosterone that I was going nuts.
I was in the laundry room when Chris my seventeen years old caught me. I was bare-ass naked, on my knees jerking off my dick into the boxer shorts of my thirteen-year-old son Timmy, while I wore the filthy jockstrap of my fifteen-year-old Kenny on my head, smelling his fuck pouch, and sucked on the piss stiff prick pouch of the jock strap of seventeen-year-old Chris.
The smell of the balls of my two older sons drove me nuts. I had photos of the three boys in their swimsuits spread out in front of me so I could stare at their hairless boy chests and nice big firm nipples. All my boys are young studs as you can see from the pics I sent with the other installments.
Next to me I had a couple of used rubbers Chris had left on the bedroom floor after he had fucked some stupid schoolgirl cunt. I occasionally sucked on these instead of the jock strap as I beat my leaking meat. I liked to go like this for hours. Bringing myself to the edge of orgasm and then pulling back, thinking about my sons fucking their various girlfriends.
My life had been so lifeless compared to theirs since I hardly fucked anymore. Chris had done more in his young life than I ever had, and Kenny wasn't far behind. Timmy had just had his first fuck, but I didn't doubt he could catch up soon. Kids today fuck young, and even if I disapproved, what could I do. I had little controls over these boys. They all had much stronger personalities than I did. I guess they got that from my wife's side of the family.
I thought Chris was at some "after game fuck party" as he called them. It was nothing more than a bunch of the guys on the high school team getting together at one guy’s house (some guy whose parents were gone, or who like me let the boys drink beer even when he was there). They would invite over their current girlfriends, or some young girl, who was all wet in the pussy, and dreamy eyed over the athletic young jocks. The boys would watch TV while the girls licked their balls and dicks for them. I once asked Chris if he wasn't embarrassed getting his balls and cock licked in front of other kids, other guys and girls, from his school.
"Why the fuck should I be. I got nothing to be ashamed of."
He didn’t either. He was hung like a fucking horse. Everyone knew it – teachers, other kids, everyone. I could even see the wives of my business friends and associates drooling over my son when I brought him to functions.
You could just tell he was all cock by looking at him. You could tell he was a great fucker by the way he walked. You've all seen boys like that. You just know from the way they carry themselves.
He fucked some of those wives of my friends too. I tried to insist that he not for fear of losing clients, and getting into lawsuits and shit, but he just laughed and told me he would fuck whomever he wanted to.
He even fucked the moms of his buddies. His friends didn’t know this of course, but he had fucked six or seven mothers of his friends from schools. The stupid bitches were always calling the house begging for his dick. He even let me listen on the phone a couple of times. As soon as husband and son were out of the house, they were on the phone, calling my son to please come over and stuff their wet cunts with his big, thick fucker.
Kenny was almost as bad. Christ, at fifteen, he was currently dating (or should I say fucking since there was little dating involved, and he was also doing it to other girls?), this one fourteen-year-old named Sally while he also was fucking her twelve-year-old sister, and her mother! What's with these kids today?
Anyway, I thought Chris was at this after game fuck party, and I was in the laundry room beating off. It had started out with me just washing my son's clothing, but the smells and the thought of their fat, young dicks leaking in the underpants and jocks had gotten me hard, so I had decided to have my little fuck party. After all, it was the only sex I was getting, so there I was grunting like a pig. My hand flogging my average sized dick into the plaid boxers of Timmy my head covered with a dirty jock strap, and another hanging out of my mouth as I sucked on Chris dick pouch. I had a used rubber shoved up my nose like a popper so I could smell my son's fuck slop. I was grunting and pumping like crazy when in walks my oldest son.
"What the fuck?"
Then he just stood there, looking down at me on the floor. He was so fucking handsome in his A and F baggy pants, his layered shirts, and his messy hair, his full young teen lips, and his flashing eyes that I shot off. However, my dick spooge didn’t go into Timmy's boxers, it shot across the room and landed on the washing machine.
I looked up at my son stupidly. His jock is hanging from my mouth with his name in magic marker showing. What could I say? How could I ever explain this? I saw tears well up in his eyes. It’s the only time I ever saw him cry. He didn't even cry when his mother died. I saw the tears, and it broke my heart. My dick kept squirting and dribbling. Then his cute face grew red with anger. Chris had a terrible temper. All my boys did.
"YOU FUCKING FAGGOT. YOU DIRTY FUCKING FAGGOT YOU!" Chris screamed at me.
His big foot kicked out, and his work boot caught me in the gut. I fell over naked on the cold cement floor.
"God damn, my own father a fucking homo! I can't fucking believe it. I should have known. What with your small dick and your sissy hobbies and shit, but Jesus Dad, Jesus."
He slammed a fist into the wall.
I spit out the jock, but my mouth was parched and wouldn't work right. I tried to calm him down.
"Listen, son; I can explain this. I know it seems strange, but I'm so lonely since your mom’s death, and you boys remind me of her. That's it, you remind me of your mother and so, so sometimes when I need—"
He was across the room in a flash. His big hand grabbed my neck and slammed my face into the washing machine. My dick slop covered my cheek.
"DON'T YOU EVER EVEN MENTION MOM AGAIN, YOU FUCKING COCKSUCKER. NOW I THINK OF IT, I SEEN THE WAY YOU LOOK AT MY DICK ALL THE TIME. I SHOULD KILL YOU. YOU, YOU..."
He had no words, poor boy. He slammed my head into the washing machine again and again. He threw me onto my back and sat on my chest with one big hand holding my face.
"Were you a fucking homo when you were with Mom? Answer me. Answer me before I fucking kill you, asshole."
"Son, I was always bi-sexual. I loved your mother very much and gave up gay sex for her. I never cheated on her. Please try to understand.
"Gay Sex. Gay Sex. You motherfucking piece of shit. That’s a fancy name for cocksucking and taking it up the ass!"
He forced three of his thick fingers into my mouth.
"Do you suck dick? Huh? Answer me before I ram my hand down your throat. Do you fucking suck cock?"
I tried to answer, but how can you when your son's fingers are in your mouth. He was not happy, so he reached back and with his other fist he slammed me in the nuts. Remember I was bare-ass naked. Now he stood up.
"Spread your legs." he said, taking off his belt.
"Son, we have to have a talk. We have to calm down and —"
"Spread your fucking legs, FAGGOT."
He brought the belt down onto my chest leaving a red welt. I spread my legs.
"I hate the day those faggot balls ever brought me into this fucking world." He screamed as he lashed my nut sack with the belt.
My wails of pain could have brought down the entire neighborhood. Over and over he whipped my scrotum and dick. If I tried to close my legs or cover myself, he kicked me until I lay there, passive, legs spread wide. I almost passed out from the pain.
"Here's the way it's going to be from now on around here. You are going to be our faggot slave."
"God Chris, please don't tell Kenny and Tim. Please for your mother's sake.
His booted foot went back and caught me right on my asshole. I slid two feet across the cold, rough cement.
"I told you don't ever mention mom again. You are going to be our fucking housekeeper faggot. If you don't do everything we tell you, if you fuck up even a little bit, I'll just call the police and say you have been sexually abusing your sons. Then you can spend the rest of your life being happy in prison getting fucked there. Crawl around the room for my asshole!"
I got on my hands and knees, my body wracked with pain and crawled around the room.
"Stick your tongue out of your mouth like the cock hungry bitch you are."
"Jesus, look how small your dick is. It’s more like a fucking clit. I shoulda known you were gay. Arch your back when you crawl. Get your ass up in the air so I can —"
"hit it with this belt.”
“Aw, is the faggot crying. Is the fucking Daddy Faggot crying? Fucking Daddy Faggot is gonna be crying a lot from now on."
Then he started to cry. It was the betrayal of my sons that most hurt me More than the physical pain. While he cried, he sat on me and made me ride him around the house. He kicked my ribs and slapped my ass with his belt when I didn't crawl fast enough. He was still riding me around the house when my other sons came home.
I kept begging them over and over to please try to understand, but it was no use. Chris made me crawl into the garage, and there the three boys took out their teenage dicks and pissed all over me, saying once again I had betrayed their mother.
"He's going to be our cocksucking faggot housekeeper from now on. We gotta punish him hard anytime he fucks up."
"Can I make him suck my dick?" Timmy asked, rubbing the front of his jeans.
"Any fucking time you want," Chris said, going over to the work bench in the garage and getting some oil and a large wrench.
"Shit, that explains why he was always hanging around the school locker room after my games. The fucking homo," my fifteen-year-old boy Kenny said.
Then he spits in my face. Timmy joined him, and they both gobbed all over my face. Teen boy spit ran down my cheeks, dripped from my nose and hung in strings from my lips and chin.
"Let's see how good his pussy is. Here old man, fuck your cunt with this wrench."
Chris threw down the oil covered wrench. It was huge.
"Boys, please, for God's sake listen to me. I've never done anything like that. I had a few gay dates in college. I had oral sex a few times, but I —"
"Kenny, go and call the police. Tell them our old man has been molesting us."
Well, even if I didn't go to prison, it would still ruin my career. My life. As if had not ruined my life already with my depraved lust for my sons.
"No, please, for God's sake have mercy on me."
"NO MERCY FOR FAGGOTS," Chris yelled.
Then Kenny yelled the same thing. Timmy joined them, and the three boys danced around me like wild natives shouting their mantra over and over like a chant.
"You got fifteen seconds to shove that wrench up your faggot pussy."
There I was, gentle reader, on the floor of my garage, bare-ass naked trying to please my three teenage sons by shoving an oil-slicked wrench up my asshole. Thankfully I had shoved my fingers and a few other household objects up my ass when beating off thinking about my boys. My balls swung as I worked the wrench handle up into my rectum. I grunted and cried as I begged them to try to understand, but then I got a hard on, and I lost the game forever.
"Shit look at that. The faggot likes it. Dad loves this shit. Look at that, guys. The faggot has a boner."
Chris laughed, kicking my hard throbbing dick. I lay there on the cold, dirty floor with the wrench up my ass with my hard cock slapping my stomach, feeling more humiliated and degraded than ever in my entire life.
"He's disgusting," Timmy said, but he was rubbing his crotch.
"He sure is. He makes me sick to my stomach," Kenny said, kicking at me with his tennis shoe. Then he too grabbed his huge fuck lump. "I am ashamed to call him Dad."
"We don't. We don't call him dad anymore. From now on he is Faggot!" Chris said, sneering and rubbing his massive hard on through his pants.
"Yeah, cool," Kenny said. "Fuck yourself with that wrench, Faggot!"
Imagine having to fuck your ass with a wrench in front of three teenage boys. Now imagine those boys were your sons. Now you get a small sense of what I was feeling. But despite the agony of the situation, my fucking dick just got harder and harder. It started to leak as I fucked my stretched, aching hole with the wrench.
"Please, boys, it’s too big. It hurts, it hurts badly.
"Fuck yourself harder, sissy boy. Come on pussy, shove that wrench up your cunt."
I forced the wrench in and out. The pressure against my prostate caused my dick to bounce and leak. My tits were rock hard, and my whole body tingled. My handsome sons were standing over me, looking down on me, spitting on me, and rubbing their teen dicks. I screamed, and my dick shot off.
"He came. He fucking came. The fucking faggot shot his load from fucking himself."
Kenny couldn't believe it.
"Oh God, oh god, oh god, oh god," I moaned over and over knowing my life was finished.
Chris put one big boot on my chest.
"Yeah, well that's the fucking last time he ever cums without permission.
“DO YOU HEAR THAT, FAGGOT?"
He kicked at my dick with his boot.
"If you ever cum again without our permission, your ass lands in prison."
Timmy rubbed himself harder
"Oh shit, oh shit, I'm blowing my load," he wailed in his little boy voice, and he shot off in his pants.
"Christ, this is going to be fun," Kenny said.
And it was for them.
After pulling myself together, my mind still numb from the treatment of my teenage sons, I began to clean the house. The first problem occurred a few hours later when I had to piss. I had waited too long, and the need to go was intense. I remembered Chris telling me that I had to get permission to piss. I know, it sounds idiotic. How can someone get permission every time he needs to take a leak? However, I called him at school.
“What do you want, faggot?” he snapped
I heard some other teenage males in the background laugh. There can be something terribly intimidating about the sarcastic laugh of teenage boys. Upon many occasions, Chris had had his high school jock buddies over to our house. They would lounge around my living room with their jeans bulging with their fat teenage pricks, and Chris would shout out to me, “Yo, Dad, get us some beers.” Of course, I would protest that some of the boys were under eighteen and therefore not legal to drink. Chris would roll his hands into fists, stand up with his legs wide and a frown on his face and shout, “Get us some fucking beers NOW!” And to avoid a confrontation, I would do as he asked. The other boys would give that sarcastic laugh, rolling their eyes at me.
“Son, I really need to piss. I know you said I had to get permission. I know this whole thing is really stupid and getting blown out—”
He hung up on me. I stood there, stark naked in my living room, needing to go to the toilet, and my eyes filled with tears. I waited another twenty minutes until my gut was busting. Then, I called him back.
“Holy shit, faggot you’re really asking for it, aren’t you? I’m here with friends and busy!”
“Son, I need to piss badly. I can’t hold it much longer.”
I was pushing my thighs together trying to hold back the need to pee.
“All right, all right, stupid fucking sissy! Go into the kitchen.”
“Son, I need to pee. Please!”
“Go into the kitchen!”
I padded into the kitchen, my stomach churning. My dick felt tingly and alive.
“Take the large lemonade pitcher from the cabinet. Now fill it with water!”
“Son, I can’t hold it any longer. I’m getting terrible cramps.”
I hopped from one foot to the other.
“If you want to piss, follow orders. That’s what you got to learn. Fill the fucking pitcher with water!”
Unable to hold back my tears and moans, I filled the pitcher with water. That made the cramps even worse. Just watching and hearing the water pour was agony. I felt a terrible cramp and wave of nausea sweep through me. Why hadn’t I just ignored his orders and gone to the bathroom without telling him? How would he ever have known? But I admit, at this point, he terrified me. Little did I know it was nothing compared to what was to come.
“Is the fucking pitcher filled with water, fuckface?” Again I heard his male friends laughing in the background.
“Yes, it’s filled.” I was in pure agony by this time. I had waited too long to call him. “I’m going to piss right here on the kitchen floor.”
“YOU DO, ASSHOLE, AND YOU GO TO PRISON! CHILD RAPER! MOLESTER!”
“Those are lies, son, and you know it. Please, I’m begging you. I can’t hold it. LET ME PISS!”
“DRINK THE PITCHER OF WATER!”
I almost collapsed. My knees felt like jelly. The pain in my kidneys was an intense, sharp and piercing pain, which was spreading.
“Oh, GOD! I groaned.
I raised the pitcher to my lips and began to drink. I think more spilled out than went down my throat, but it was enough to make the throbbing in my gut even more unbearable. My stomach seemed to bloat out. I stood there in the kitchen, rocking back and forth, holding my stomach.
“All done, Daddy?” Chris asked with the sweetest voice. I managed to groan an answer. “Okay, then you may piss. You know that large bowl in the living room that we sometimes put flowers in, the clear glass one. Well, I want you to go into the living room, put the bowl on the floor, squat over it, and piss like the fucking animal you are. And that bowl better still be there filled with your stinking animal piss when I get home from school!”
The phone clicked. I waddled into the living room, holding my stomach and taking tiny steps. From now on I would ask permission much sooner. Do you hear me? Do you understand that I’m saying ‘from now on’ as if this was going to be a common occurrence as if this was to be my life from now on? That was impossible to conceive.
I manage to set the empty crystal bowl onto the carpet. Then I carefully squatted down over it. Now it seemed as if the piss was stuck as if it didn’t want to come out. I squatted there naked, my dick and balls hanging down, crying, trying to push the piss from my bladder. Then it tore loose. I sobbed. Piss shot from my dick into the crystal bowl. The feeling of relief was so intense that I almost passed out. I squatted there rocking back and forth with spurts of strong yellow piss spraying out from my cock. I didn’t know if it was heaven or hell. Eventually, my breathing relaxed, and I felt better. The spray of piss turned to a trickle.
I glanced over at the side table and saw the photo of my thirteen-year-old son, Timmy. He was in a swimsuit at a waterpark. It had been taken a few years before. To my disgust, I felt my dick begin to get an erection. What kind of animal was I? Maybe my sons were right. I was getting a hard on over a nearly naked photo of my youngest son. Did I want to suck his cock and eat out his teenage ass? Was I that sick, that totally perverted? One hand went down, and I began to rub myself. My fucker started to leak. I stared at the tiny limp in Timmy’s swimsuit. How his dick had grown in just a year. It was now over six inches long. I smiled as I remember at the water park, how my two older boys, Kenny and Chris had stripped off Timmy’s swimsuit in the wave pool and made him walk out of the pool bare-ass naked. Timmy had just turned twelve at the time, and his dick and balls bounced in the cutest way as he ran from the pool to the changing building, crying his young eyes out. How we had laughed. Timmy had begged me to punish Chris and Kenny, and in retrospect, if I had, I might not be in the situation in which I now found myself. Thinking about Timmy coming out of that wading pool in public, totally naked in front of hundreds of people, his pink cock bouncing over his just fallen balls, I pumped my dick.
I have always found a boy on the cusp of puberty particularly erotic. I don’t know why. I remember carefully planning walking in on Kenny and Chris when they were twelve. I would “accidentally” walk into the bathroom when they had just finished showering, just to see their newly formed fuck sacks and growing dicks, and my god, how their dicks had grown. All three of my boys had dicks larger than mine. And my god, Kenny, and Chris had unbelievable cunt busters. Thick fuckers as big around as beer cans. I had no idea how the cunts could take them, especially the younger middle school ones.
Now I was thinking about the swollen horse dicks of my two older sons. The pre-fuck was leaking from my dickhead in a long slimy string. I know Chris had forbidden me to cum, but I couldn’t help myself. Just then, the doorbell rang!
For a moment, I froze. Then I struggled to my feet, with my hard dick bouncing in front of me and leaking like a damaged rain gutter in a storm. I looked around in panic. Stupid, right, I mean, what the fuck was I looking for. I ran to the door, my nuts bouncing and my prick swaying. If anything my dick got harder. I looked through the spy hole in the door to see nine-year-old Stevie Lawson from next door. Oh shit. My dick bounced and throbbed. I almost came, looking at the adorable nine-year-old. He rang the bell again.
Chris had ordered me to answer the door naked. He had been very clear about that. But Jesus, I couldn’t do that in front of a nine-year-old kid. I looked at Stevie’s beautiful young face through the peephole and jerked my throbbing dick. Holy fuck, the boy was an angel, a fucking angel. I could not let him see me like this!
“Just a minute,” I yelled as I ran toward the bathroom.
I grabbed a bath towel and wrapped it around my waist. My erection poked out obscenely, but that could not be helped. If I didn’t answer the door, and Chris found out, I would have hell to pay. I was sure Chris would understand me wearing a towel in front of the little boy from next door.
The bell rang a third time. I rushed to the door, unlocked it and threw it open. I face the darling nine-year-old, naked except for a bath towel, my hard dick pushing out the front.
“Eh…hi, Stevie. What can I do for you? Shouldn’t you be in school?”
Stevie looked up at me, and then down at my towel covered erection. A malicious smile covered his face. From behind his back, he pulled out a cell phone and put it to his ear.
“You’re right, Chris. You win. He is wearing something. He’s wearing a towel!”
My mouth dropped open. Timmy started to laugh. He gave me the cutest, nasty pouting look at me and said, “Holy Shit, are you in trouble!”
I was in a state of hysterical panic. I began to shake. I grabbed the towel and whipped it off. I stood there totally naked with my erect dick bouncing.
“Here, Stevie, here, look! See, I’m naked. Just like Chris wants. PLEASE. PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!”
Little Stevie looked directly at my dick. He studied it for quite a while. He tilted his cute young head to see my balls better. I spread my legs so the little guy could more clearly look at my genitals. I didn’t know what I was doing. Stevie raised his phone and took a photo of me standing there naked. This nine-year-old boy had a photo of me naked and hard!
“Please…please, Stevie, tell Chris that I was good. Tell Chris that I was naked. Please. You don’t know what he will do to me!”
Stevie spoke, “Jeez, your dick is so much smaller than Chris’. It’s like a peanut compared to his!”
“I don’t understand. Compared to Chris’? You’ve seen Chris’ dick?”
The cute kid turned and began to walk away from my house.
“Oh sure, he lets me play with it all the time!”
God help me I came! I had an orgasm! I shot my load! It sprayed the stoop in front of our house. What kind of family did I have?
Seventeen-year-old Chris, the naked muscular high school jock, his body covered in sweat, raised his arm and brought the leather belt down as hard as he could. Unfortunately for me, the targets were my taint and ass and ball sack.
The leather snapped against my testicles, sending waves of pain through my naked body. Nausea rolled up from my stomach and filled my throat. I knew I dare not vomit, or it would only get worse for me. This was my fault. This was my punishment for not going to the door naked. This was my punishment for not obeying my son!
“You fucking piece of shit, faggot. When the fuck will you learn that you will do what I say!”
I grimaced as I cupped my swollen, dangling nuts with one hand. To be fair, I had only been a slave to my sons for one day. The idea was still grotesque and impossible to me. Yes, I lusted after my three sons. I confess that. Yes, I was a fucking pervert. I confess that. But I had tried to be a good father. I had done everything possible to avoid my sons ever learning of my sexual obsession with them.
To my left, my thirteen-year-old son Timmy stood frantically jerking on his six-inch fucker, his still hairless balls jiggling and dancing. He had a demonic grin on his cute young face.
“Son, please...please…I can’t take any more. I’ll do better, I promise. Forgive me!”
I rolled around on the carpet, clutching my swollen sore nuts. Imagine the indignity. My son glanced over at the large crystal bowl on the end table now filled with my cold yellow piss from earlier in the day.
“Crawl over and drink your stinking piss from the bowl!”
He looked so handsome when he was furious. The way his brow furrowed and his eyes glared. The way his seventeen-year-old muscles rippled, and the way his huge horse dick swung as he walked. He went over to the bowl, his ass muscles rolling and some sweat dripping from his teenage ass crack. He set the bowl on the floor.
I had a bit of trouble crawling, as my body was so wracked with pain. My thirteen-year-old helped me by kicking me in the ribs with his bare foot. When I reached the bowl, I began to lift it to drink my foul yellow urine. Chris lifted one naked foot and kicked me in the face. My nose and cheek erupted in pain. I looked up at my handsome son.
“You don’t lift the bowl. You lap the piss from the bowl on the floor like a fucking animal!”
How stupid of me. How could I not have guessed that? I put the bowl on the carpet, bent over it, and began to lap up the foul waste liquid with my tongue.
Chris took a final sip of the beer he had been drinking, and then with a nasty grin on his face, he walked around behind me. I felt the glass lip of the beer bottle against my asshole. He began to push the bottle up my ass.
“Spread your fucking faggot legs, I’ve got a gift for Daddy Faggot!”
He worked the neck of the bottle up my rectum. Did it hurt? Fucking hell it did. My hole was still sore from the wrench I had been forced to fuck myself with the previous night. The bottle was hard and ungiving, so my rectum had to give instead.
“Can I do it, Chris? Please…please…please?” thirteen-year-old Timmy shouted, jumping up and down, his dick slapping his groin and his balls flopping around.
“Of course, you can, Timmy. Go to town on the fucker!”
Chris stepped back, and Timmy gripped the bottle and began to fuck my ass as hard as he could. I almost blacked out from the pain!
“Timmy, please, you’re killing me. It hurts. It’s too big. Please for the love of god!”
My sweet thirteen-year-old son only rammed the glass bottle up my asshole with more enthusiasm. He swung one of his slender young legs over my back and sat on me, facing my ass, and with both hands on the bottle, fucked it harder and harder up my ass. Chris large athletic foot kicked my face again.
“Shut the fuck up and lap up that piss!”
Chris walked over to the kitchen counter and opened a drawer. A moment later, he returned with a shish-kabob skewer. He proceeded to stab my shoulders and arms lightly with the steel point.
“How would you like this skewer shoved up your pisshole, Dad? Would you enjoy that?”
I lapped at the piss with more enthusiasm, my throat, and mouth filled with the acrid taste.
“Chris, I’m trying to get the wide part of the bottle up his asshole, but it won’t go in,” Timmy complained.
“Just push harder, dweeb. His cunt can take it! You know that cunts can stretch. You should ask the fourteen-year-old cunt I fucked this morning!”
They both laughed.
I finally finished the bowl of piss. Timmy got off my back, and I curled up on the floor in a fetal position, the bottle still up my ass. I just wanted to rest. My balls were throbbing with pain. Chris walked around behind me and with one bare foot, pushed at the bottle up my asshole.
“You gotta learn, Dad. We can’t have a cocksucking faggot father calling the shots around this house. It’s really pretty disgusting. I bet you jerked off every time I fucked cunt in my bedroom, and you could hear it. I caught you red-handed sucking on our filthy jock straps.
“Chris, I gotta blow a load. Can Dad suck my dick, please?”
“You heard him, faggot. Hope to it. Get your mouth around that kid’s throbbing dick! Christ, he’s only thirteen, and his dick is bigger than yours.”
It was true; the cock of my thirteen-year-old son was slightly larger than my own six inches. I got to my knees.
“It’s a sin to do this. I know I thought about it. I know that I had evil thoughts, but I would never have acted on them. I swear. I never—”
Chris grabbed my head by the hair and shoved my face into the crotch of my thirteen-year-old son. I opened my mouth and the sweaty, wet, reddish pink, teen cock entered. My lips felt the soft velvet skin of thirteen-year-old teen dick. I felt it pulse on my tongue. I smelled the boy’s balls and cock. I began to suck. I sucked the dick of my teenage son. I slurped it. And my fucking cock got hard!
“Look at that! The old faggot is hard again! He loves it!”
Chris kicked my hard dick with his foot, and the fuckmeat just became stiffer and began to leak pre-fuck. Timmy put his hands on my head and pushed his dick as deep into my mouth as he could. I gagged and received a slap on the back of my head from Chris.
“No gagging, faggot!”
I had forgotten that my sons were fag-bashers and knew how to treat faggot cocksuckers. Timmy grabbed my ears and used them as handles to fuck my face harder and faster. His boy pre-cum coated my tongue and ran down my throat. Chris squatted down with his massive dick and full balls swinging between his spread legs. He reached out and pushed more of the beer bottle up my asshole. The wide part of the bottle was now stretching the ass lips. I sucked harder at Timmy’s dick, trying to bring the nightmare to an end. The bottle rubbed my prostate, and my dick throbbed and leaked. Timmy bucked, went up on his teen toes and began to shoot his fuck syrup into my mouth.
“Oh …shit…oh…fuck…oh…Christ...I’m fucking cumming! I’m shooting Chris! Holy shit, he’s got a mouth like a cunt!” Timmy screamed as unloaded his teen ball juice into my mouth.
Have you ever seen a thirteen-year-old boy cursing up a storm as he shoots his fuck load? It is a sight to behold. Finally, the dick stopped firing, and the boy slowly pulled it out of my mouth.
It was covered in my spit and his cum. I licked it clean, knowing it was part of my duty as a cocksucking father. Small dribbles of cum kept seeping from the teen pisshole. I lapped them up. I licked the balls of where cum had dripped on them.
Just then, the front door slammed and Kenny, my fifteen-year-old wrestling star athlete, sauntered in, a huge grin on his face.
“I hope to fuck I didn’t miss all the fun!” he shouted, high-fiving Chris.
“Not at all, we’re just getting started!”
Chris kicked me so I would turn to show Kenny the bottle up my ass.
“What kind of cocksucker is he, Timmy, my man?”
Kenny grabbed my head by the hair and yanked my face up to look at his handsome fifteen-year-old face.
“He’s pretty good,” laughed Timmy, who hadn’t had all that much experience but felt suddenly grown-up.
Kenny unzipped his jeans and pushed them and his underpants down. A strong smell hit me in the face. Kenny’s thick teen dick hung limp. It was coated with something glistening and wet looking.
“Well, good. I got a gift for Dad the Faggot. That is why I am late. I just fucked Mary Lou Tenner!”
“No way, asshole!” Chris was agog. “How the fuck did you score that hot little seventh grader?”
“Told her I loved her is all. She thinks we’re dating now!” Kenny laughed and shook his dick at me.
I saw some dried blood in his prick hair and on his big balls.
“So, I brought my dirty dick and balls home for Dad to clean with his tongue. I got virgin cherry blood and cunt juice and cum all over my fuckmeat. Go to town, Dad. Enjoy yourself. When was the last time you tasted cunt that young and fresh?”
The smell and the thought of me licking a cunt juice covered dick made me gag. I almost puked right there in front of my sons. Perhaps the piss in my stomach had something to do with it.
“You gag, faggot, and you will really be sorry! Now crawl on over and have your dinner!”
My three sons roared with laughter, and I crawled over to Kenny’s big stinking fucker.
I buried my face in the ass of my seventeen-year-old son. It wasn’t by choice. Chris had ordered me to do it. My fifteen-year-old son, Kenny, and my thirteen-year-old son, Timmy, watched with glee. Now to be totally honest, it wasn’t such an awful thing to have to do. You see, I am a fucking pervert and have lusted after my three sons for a long time. However, once they found out about my secret perversion, they had begun to make life a living hell for me. So my feelings were definitely mixed.
My muscular jock son knelt on an armchair with his back facing me. He stuck out his firm, globed ass. His back arched and the tight round ass presented itself to me. His muscular legs were just spread enough so that I could clearly see his huge balls swinging between them. My god, the kid had a pair of nuts on him. He pushed his ass further toward my face.
“Get your fucking face in my ass, Dad, and start to lick my ass crack up and down!”
His teenage voice was thick with testosterone. I knew how much my sons loved to have their asses licked, sucked and eaten out from hearing them talk about the girls they fucked. It turns out most teenage boys love to have their assholes eaten almost as much or more than fucking, but most girls won’t give in to their ass sucking demands. My son was a different case, however. So many young girls were obsessed with his massive cock and wanted to suck it and be fucked by it that they pretty much did anything he asked of them just to get some of that dick. I’d never known girls to be so dick crazy as they were over my son’s fat cock. Girls still shy of the teenage years acted as if the only thing they lived for was my son’s meaty fucker. It must be difficult for you to imagine girls so young, still titless and with no hair on their cunts so in love with the massive fuckmeat of a seventeen-year-old boy. He sends the girls selfies showing his thick dick both soft and hard as the little bitches sit at home fingering their slits and dream about sucking on it. What have our teenagers come to in this modern day and age?
I started at the deep sweaty crack of my son’s jock ass. There was a slight trail of downy almost invisible hair lining the crack. I briefly wondered how many young girls had licked this ass as I brought my hands up to the hard, smooth ass cheeks and spread them, revealing the inner ass crack and the asshole itself. The boy’s asshole was a pink/brown and tightly puckered. A few asshole hairs circled the pucker itself. My breathing grew heavy and ragged. This was the hole out of which my son shit! This was the filthiest part of any human being, and my seventeen-year-old son had just ordered me to lick and suck it. My hands trembled, as I gripped the ass cheeks.
“What the fuck are you waiting for, Christmas?” Chris barked at me, and young Timmy had a giggle fit.
How could I live this way, as a sex slave to my three sons? Surely this was all some bad dream which would soon end. Kenny, my fifteen-year-old, stood to one side, watching intently and fingering his over-sized fuck slab and nuts. Little Timmy furiously pumped his six-inch-plus prick. It seemed he was always pumping it.
I brought my face to the ass and smelled the rank stink of sweaty boy hole. It made me dizzy. I was about to transfer that stink to my face. I extended my tongue and swiped the ass crack from taint to top. A salty, musky taste filled my mouth, and the smell grew even stronger. I licked the ass crack again, and Chris let out a moan of pleasure. I glanced down and saw him curl his large toes. I licked the ass crack again and again, faster and faster. The muscular teenage ass wiggled and pumped at my face. I was not only licking male ass, but I was also licking the male ass of my own son! How sinful! How perverted! How disgusting!
“Enough already, you fucking cunt, now tongue my asshole!”
Something in me dreaded this part. It was so utterly degenerate. I licked my son’s puckered asshole. I licked the hole that his shit came out of. I flicked my tongue over the hole itself, and then I slobbered spit all around the pucker. I sucked on the silky asshole hairs. And then making my tongue as pointy as I could, I thrust it up into the boy’s warm, soft rectum itself. I fucked my tongue in and out of the rectum. I spread the ass cheeks wider so I could get my face as deep into the ass as possible to allow my tongue deeper access up into his rectum. I began to make moaning noises as I tried to fuck my tongue deeper and deeper actually up into his bowels. The firm ass cheeks closed about my face and almost smothered me. I began to chew and suck the asshole itself. Chris moaned and ground his ass on my face.
“Way to go, Dad! Eat out your son’s filthy asshole. Think of the money we’re going to save on toilet paper!”
Just the thought was so dirty that I almost swooned. My three sons, however, thought it was hysterically funny. I munched and sucked on the teenage ass. I licked and sucked on the asshole lips. I worked my tongue around in the soft inner asshole skin.
My tongue grew numb from thrusting it out of my mouth so far, and my breathing became labored as I sucked my son’s asshole for at least ten minutes. Timmy, still jerking on his red, rampant, leaking prick walked to the counter and made himself a sandwich. I thought I would faint from the lack of air and the effort I was putting into eating my son’s ass.
Have you ever eaten the ass of a teenage boy? Let me tell you, there is nothing quite like it. The big balls flopped against my chin and neck from time to time. I lowered my head so I could thrust my tongue up into his asshole from a better angle. While adjusting, my nose briefly went up into the hot young asshole.
“Oh, fuck, this is the greatest feeling. This is the way you are going to sleep every night from now on, Dad, with your face in my ass!”
How delirious the prospect of that fantasy seemed at the time. I had no idea that my son literally meant what he said. I dare not object, or my sons would send me to prison on a trumped-up charge that I had molested them. Just being around my sons when they were naked had almost been too much for me to stand.
Fifteen-year-old Kenny, my sturdy little jock wrestler son, dragged a chair over and set it next to the one on which his older brother knelt. Kenny was a bit shorter than Chris’ was, and his body was a bit more compact. He knelt on the chair and turned to his brother.
“How about letting me get some of that, Bro?”
He wiggled his ass which was a bit thicker and heavier than Chris’ ass was.
Chris reached back with one large hand and grabbed my hair. He yanked my still sucking face from his ass and shoved it in the direction of his little brother. I crawled over a foot or so to the next chair and knelt between Kenny’s muscular legs and feet. My fifteen-year-old reached back and kindly spread his ass globes for me. I plunged my face into the kid’s ass and went right for the steaming, sweaty, stinking hole. I was now sucking the asshole of my middle son. A fifteen-year-old boy’s asshole is much softer than the hole of a seventeen-year-old. What a difference a few years makes in the development of a boy. Kenny’s asshole was like velvet.
Chris, still kneeling on the other chair, turned his body slightly so that he could watch, and began to pump his monster teen dick. For some reason, when I sucked Kenny’s asshole, I started to cry. This brought more laughter from my sons. I sucked ass juice and spit from Kenny’s rectum as I worked my tongue in as deeply as possible.
Would my fifteen-year-old son ever be able to have anything like a healthy father/son relationship with me ever again? I seriously doubted it. Once “good old Dad” becomes an ass-eating slut to your fifteen-year-old jock ass, things change. I know how anxious teenage boys are to have their asses eaten out. Maybe more of them should turn to family members for assistance. Think of all the delighted uncles who would willingly eat out the assholes of their teenage nephews. Of all the mothers who would eat out their sons and of the countless little sisters and brothers who would want to show how “cool” they were by sucking the assholes of older jock brothers.
Of course, Little Timmy, not to be outdone by his older brothers, dragged the third chair over and presented his skinny little thirteen-year-old baby ass to me. After sucking Kenny for ten minutes or so, I transferred my face and mouth to the ass of my youngest boy. Timmy’s ass was both the dirtiest and the juiciest. You know how careless boys of that age are about hygiene. He also giggled and squealed while I ate out his ass, whereas both Chris and Kenny grunted and moaned. My face reeked of boy ass and rectum juice. Chris called for me to get back to him, and so it went. I spent the next two hours going from boy ass to boy ass. Several times I almost passed out, and Chris or Kenny dick slapped my face to keep me alert.
Finally, all three boys stood around me and jerked off on my face. I was ordered not to wash off the fuck slop mess, but to let it dry. Then Chris announced would punish me for answering the door in a towel during the day. He slid the wide, thick, heavy leather belt from out of his jeans. I broke down in sobs.
“Please, Chris...please don’t beat my ass with the belt. I’m your father for god’s sake. I was scared to answer the door naked. It was the kid from next door who was just a little boy. What would he tell people? Please...don’t beat my ass!”
I know I sounded like a faggot sissy, and I guess that is what I am after all.
Chris smiled and cocked his head to one side in that cute way of his.
“Oh, don’t worry, Dad. I’m not going to whip your ass with this belt. I am going to fucking beat your balls!”
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