Naked Ain't Always Pretty

It was the biggest, longest, thickest cock I’d ever seen. And the ugliest. It appeared gnarled and angry, purple with frustration, as if it hated the world and everyone in it. It was brutal and unforgiving. It also belonged to my boyfriend’s dad.

“For God’s sake, dad, put some clothes on!” Ryan sighed as he saw what had stopped me in my tracks. “You’re not at home now. You could scare the neighbors.”

“Looks like I scared that little fag boyfriend of yours,” Zef muttered as he pulled the towel back around his waist. “I thought the slut would have seen plenty of cock in his time.”

“Da-ad!” Ryan warned.

Zef had been baiting me ever since he arrived, in front of his son and even worse behind his back. I’d complained about his obnoxious taunts but the sternest reprimand Ryan ever managed was to split the word ‘dad’ into two syllables. My boyfriend was so piss weak sometimes.

Up until now it had been verbal abuse, displaying his cock was something new. Okay, it appeared like an accident, his towel falling off as he walked back to the guest bedroom while I was coming along the hall, but I suspected it was an effort to belittle me with the size and girth of his schlong. If Ryan hadn’t come along right behind me, who knows where it might have led.

I don’t mean physically. Zef repulsed me. In his fifties, he looked more like a battered suitcase than a middle-aged man. His body was wiry and muscular, from his job as a landscape gardener, his hair peppered with some gray around the temples, but it was his face that seemed lived in. The wrinkles were more than skin deep, they seemed to be scored right into his soul and, with his piercing brown eyes, I always felt he was looking into depths I didn’t know existed. His constant sneer coupled with the unshaven stubble on his cheeks and chin gave him an otherworldly appearance. I hesitate to say he always appeared the personification of ‘evil’ because I don’t believe in the concept, but he definitely had a nasty quality to him.

That he was also an arch homophobe who constantly belittled me and his son’s relationship meant his stay was a visit from a hell. Fuck, why not say it? Zef was the personification of a suburban Satan.

So I wasn’t surprised when his prick looked like something from the paintings of Hieronymus Bosch.

I’m studying art history at university, a useless subject according to Zef, who is far from pleased his son is supporting me while I study. He thinks I’m a gold digger because Ryan has a small business that allows us to live comfortably although, with the downturn in the economy forcing him to let half his staff go, he has had to put more hours in. That, in turn, means more time alone with his dad. I was on summer vacation and even though I could spend time at the uni library or visiting friends, I wasn’t going to allow Zef to force me from my own home.

Extra worry was the last thing Ryan needed as he worked hard to pull the company out of the doldrums, so I kept the more outrageous examples of Zef’s barrage of abuse from him. I’d handle it myself although the slurs had become so monotonous and so irritating on a couple of occasions that I’d bunched my fists up in preparation for a physical solution to the problem. That had merely encouraged Zef to smirk. “Bring it on, fag boy. Think you stand a chance against a real man?”

“When I see any real men around here, I’ll let you know.” My response was hardly the stuff of Oscar Wilde but it put him in his place. For a moment.

Then he laughed. “I hope you don’t mean that ball-less wonder that’s my son. The fag lover who won’t even stand up for his boyfriend.”

That one hurt. Ryan was just sweeping it all under the carpet hoping it would go away. Well, it wouldn’t. Zef, however, would eventually depart. He was staying with us until his wife forgave one of his periodic transgressions. She’d caught him with his conscienceless dick up a neighbor and had thrown his out on his ass. With no money and no job, landscape gardeners were in even less demand than the goods Ryan’s company produced, he ended up in our spare room with an open-ended invitation to stay.

Ryan took me aside after the unveiling of the ugly family jewels, pleading, “Try and get along with dad please, Grant. I just don’t have the time or the energy to deal with all that shit right now. Okay. He’s just angry over being out of work and how things are with mum.”

I agreed, promising to try harder while knowing that Zef’s antagonism was much more deeply ingrained. All I had to do was hold on until uni returned after the break and I wouldn’t be forced to live with his macho superiority day in and day out.

After I waved Ryan off to work from the front door, our daily ritual, I went to the kitchen for a coffee.

“For God’s sake, Zef,” I complained when I saw him seated at the glass-topped breakfast table still dressed in the towel that was now flopped open to reveal his cock in all its hideous glory. He scratched his balls as he drank his coffee and read the morning paper. “Put some clothes on.”

“Why, fag boy. Does the sight of my big juicy cock turn you on?” he sneered.

“Hardly. I’ve had much bigger than that for breakfast.”

“Not from my fag son if what I’ve seen is anything to go by.”

He was right. Ryan’s cock was considerably smaller than his dad’s but was still ample for me. And it was not ugly like his dad’s. “How would you know?”

“I’ve watched you two fuck. I’ve seen you blow him.”

I was horrified. “When?”

“You don’t think I hear the noises you make when he fucks you like a pig slut? You’re both too engrossed in your little fag games to hear me watching through the crack in your bedroom door.”

My stomach did a violent turn. I would have thrown up my breakfast if I’d had any.

“Get your rocks off, did you?” I replied as I helped myself to coffee.

“No more than you do.”

“What’s that mean?”

“It means I know you have to get yourself off with your toys after my fag son’s fucked you. Not satisfying, is he? Small dick. Told you, you need a real man’s cock.”

I walked right into it. “Like yours, you mean?”

Smug bastard actually smiled.

“So that’s why you showed me your ugly dick this morning?”

“I knew it would turn you on. You fags are all the same. Hungry for cock. Bet you’re out getting that hot ass of yours boned every opportunity.”

Did he just say ‘hot ass’?

“I know why you’re angry, fag boy. I’m cramping your style. You can’t have your fuck buddies over to fill your slut hole in case I tell Ryan all about you. Well guess what? I don’t give a shit what you get up to, how many toys or cocks you ram up that ass of yours, but you’ll never get your hands on mine. I know you want it, you haven’t been able to take your eyes off it since you’ve come into the kitchen. So much for loving my son. I bet you’d be down on your knees with your mouth around it if I let you. No way, fag!”

With that he pulled the towel across his lap hiding his tackle from view.

He was right, I had been staring at his cock. Yeah, it was ugly as sin, if I believed in sin, and nasty as hell but it was thick and long with a yummy mushroom head.

I slapped myself mentally. Whoa boy. This is your boyfriend’s dad you’re thinking about. Plus he’s a frothing-at-the-mouth homophobe. Don’t even think about it.

I hadn’t been consciously aware of any of it. It was my natural propensity to fantasize when confronted with a cock. My common sense kicked in and I was revolted by where my libido was leading me. I really did have dick for brains.

I found the whole episode disturbing so I went into town to take in a movie but I couldn’t concentrate. I was anxious, pent up and for a few seconds considered going to the adult bookshop to get relief through one of the glory holes in the porno booths. Nah, Ryan and I had been faithful during our two years. I didn’t want to jeopardize that relationship, but I also didn’t want to go home and beat off to internet porn as gratifying as that sounded.

Fuck! My life is a mess.

If I couldn’t have promiscuous sex then at least I could have a drink to calm my agitation. There was a gay bar nearby and I ducked in for a beer but the atmosphere inside was so cool and calming, I stayed for a second and then a third. The bar was fairly dark and I sat alone in a corner luxuriating in the fact I wasn’t being hassled by my homo-hating father-in-law. I could have remained here until Ryan got home later tonight but I knew I had to face up to whatever demons were awaiting me at home. One demon, at least.

I chugged down the last of my warming beer and was getting my act together to leave when a new brew was slammed down on the small wooden table at which I sat. The bartender looked me over then dismissed me with a curt, “We don’t appreciate hustlers in this establishment.” He nodded toward the gentleman seated at the bar who had obviously paid for my drink. Raising the bottle in salute to my benefactor, secretly delighted the barman had mistaken me for anyone who could possibly attract a paying clientele, I knew Ryan would get quite a chuckle out of the misunderstanding. Until I realized Mr. Generous was making his way to my table.

I may have thought he was a gentleman from a distance but as he plonked his portly body on the chair opposite, I saw that he was very much a blue collar worker. I’m no snob but this guy was all love handles, stubble and beer breath. If he lost one hundred and fifty pounds and got himself some decent clothes he’d pass as pretty respectable rough trade. As it was the word he conjured up was ‘slob.’

“What’s a good-looking boy doing in a place like this in the middle of the day?”

Oh, brother.

“Just having a quiet beer before I head off home.”

“Ned.” He offered his hand.

His grip was cold, clammy and limp. “Grant.”

“What do you do, Grant?”

I kept my answers brief. “I’m a student.”

“You must be in need of money,” he said, leering at me.

“Not really, I have a wealthy boyfriend.” I hated myself for saying it and it sounded much worse than I imagined.

“A sugar daddy, eh? He knows you’re out talking to strange men in bars?”

“As a matter of fact, he does,” I lied.

“Doesn’t mind you making a little extra on the side?”

He grinned like he was onto a good thing. I almost looked forward to disappointing him.

“I think you have the wrong…”

“Oh, I don’t think so,” he said, startling me when I felt his hand creep up my thigh to cover my crotch.

I was so surprised I stood up, knocking my beer over so that it spilled across the table and onto the floor. He looked around the few other patrons in the bar at this time of the day as if he might be identified. He opened his wallet and pressed a card into my pocket. “There, that’s my number. When you change your mind, ring me. I’ve got a dick that’ll make you cross-eyed,” he boasted as he fled the bar. I wondered if he was someone famous or important. I examined his card but his name was not familiar.

I headed for the exit as the barman came over with a cloth to mop up the spill. As I passed him, he muttered, “You guys are always trouble.”

On the scale of abuse I’d received recently that was so mild as to not even register.

I cursed myself for not using the back entrance in case Ned was waiting for me outside but once my eyes got accustomed to the glare, he was nowhere to be seen.

On the bus on the way back home I wondered what I had done to deserve my life the way it was going. I was incredibly frustrated. It was unbearable at home with Ryan’s dad and his snide comments all the time, his presence also inhibiting my personal life as Ryan didn’t want to rub ‘our lifestyle’ in his old man’s face.

“For Christ’s sake, Ryan,” I screamed at him one night after he’d turned me down yet again over sex. “You’ll never please the old buzzard, I don’t know why you even try. If he was my dad, I would never let him disrespect you the way your dad does me. He’d be tossed out on his ass quick smart.”

“Ah, you don’t understand what it’s like to be brought up in a family that’s half-Italian. We have more family loyalty.”

I seethed over his continual excuses for his dad’s vile behavior.

“Being half-Italian doesn’t excuse rotten conduct in anyone’s culture.”

Zef must have overheard our argument because he had a triumphant smirk on his face for the rest of the day. Bastard!

Sex had been an occasional rushed option for three weeks now, squeezed in when we thought Zef was out. It seems we were wrong. I was going crazy. To my mind it’s not unreasonable to expect that, in a relationship, sex should not be furtive and should occur on a regular basis. If Zef remained at our home for much longer, forcing Ryan into continued guilt-ridden hair-trigger coupling, I would have to seriously consider a blow-up doll or rampant infidelity. Or else I would crack.

My determination to have my wicked way with the reluctant Ryan was thwarted in the worst possible way when I got home. It wasn’t just that Zef was slobbing all over the couch in the living room still clad only in a towel which did nothing to cover his cock and balls, or that the coffee table was littered with empty beer cans, it was mainly his message as I came through the front door.

“Hey, fag boy,” he yelled so that it was impossible to sneak in and avoid him. “You missed Ryan by about twenty minutes. Said he couldn’t wait any longer for you. Bit upset he was. Thought you should have been home instead of out whoring that pretty little ass of yours all over town.”

There was no point in contradicting him so I let it slide.

“Is there a problem?” I asked, worried that Ryan may be sick or injured.

“Only that my son is a faggot and his boyfriend is a cock slut.”

I sighed loudly enough that he even someone as thick as him would get the hint.

“Said he had to leave town for a week to ten days. Got a heads up on a great new product that will mean big bickies for the company and untold wealth for the two of you.”

“Did he say where he was going?”

“Nope. Just that he’ll ring you from his hotel when he gets there. He’s given his employees the week off so whatever it is, it’s gotta be big. Unless he’s just out getting himself some fresh faggot ass.”

I thought he would have got sick of all the fag references he was making constantly but I noticed the more he used the word the more blood seemed to pump into his hideous prick. It was like some somnambulistic creature slowly waking from its doze. It was at once horrifyingly repellent and hypnotically seductive.

“Like what you see, fag?”

“Put some clothes on,” I snarled, tearing my eyes away from his engorging cock. If I thought it was large when I’d seen it semi-tumescent earlier that day, I was amazed at how much it grew when fully aroused as it was now. I couldn’t imagine anyone taking it for pleasure.

“Makes your eyes water just thinking about it, doesn’t it?” he suggested as he gave it a half-hearted tug, smearing the slippery pre-cum across the knob with his thumb.

“It might if I did give it a moment’s thought,” I replied.

He was so fucking superior I wanted to smack him. “Oh, you will. In fact, it’ll haunt your every waking moment and then it will invade your dreams until you’re begging me for a taste of it.”

I laughed at him but even to me it sounded false.

Wondering if I could persuade Zef’s wife to forgive him and take him back out of my hair, I dreaded spending the next week or so alone with him. Ryan wasn’t much of an intermediary but he was a hell of a lot better than none at all.

It wasn’t fair. I was horny as fuck and I’d have to rely on my small collection of sex toys and my fantasies to get off. I was constantly on edge sexually, not helped by Zef’s ugly genitals on open display. Not that I wanted them but when you’re not getting any even the ugliest examples on view add an unwelcome temptation.

That, of course, is what Zef was after. How could I be so dumb as not to have seen that before? Zef wanted me to make a play for him so he could report my slutty behavior to Ryan and split us up. Whether he thought I was a passing phase and he could then turn his son straight I didn’t know but it was the sort of devious plan he would come up with. Either that or provoke me to the extent I moved out or, even better, physically attacked him.

Paranoia was not a good look. I shook the conspiracy theories out of my head and, in an effort to mend fences, cleared the beer cans from the coffee table. He replaced them with his feet which meant the towel flapped open even wider.

Deep breaths. Don’t look at his prick. Don’t look at his prick. Oh, crap, I looked.

He didn’t have to say anything, I heard him chuckle. That was enough.

“You want something for dinner?” I asked.

“You cooking?”

“Yes.”

“Faggot food or real food? I can call for pizza if it’s faggot food.”

I gave him a rundown on what I intended. He appeared genuinely surprised.

“You can cook that?”

“Try me.”

Try my cooking he did although he didn’t exactly dress for dinner. He merely wrapped the towel around his waist a little more tightly before he sat down at the table. To my surprise, he managed a compliment.

“I gotta hand it to you fags. You know how to suck cock and you know how to cook.”

Well, it was sort of an insult compliment but it was the last time he used the F word during the meal for which I was grateful. However, that could have been because he hardly managed to string a coherent sentence together while we were eating. I think, like me, he sensed the game plan had changed with Ryan’s absence and he hadn’t quite worked out a strategy. I was sure it wouldn’t be long before he did.

It was difficult not to stare at the bulge in his towel and when he noticed he managed to open a flap so his cock dangled tantalizingly in view. I’d made the mistake of having the meal in the kitchen at the glass-topped table and as he was seated directed across from me I had limited choice as to where to look: my meal, his face, his cock. In my frustrated state it was obvious where my eyes would tend to focus.

I wondered why he hadn’t passed on the thick cock gene to Ryan. I’m not a size queen and Ryan’s cock is a comfortable assfull but a boy sometimes likes to have his horizons stretched and Zef’s monster would certainly do that.

Shit! I need to have a good wank and get the idea of cock out of my head. 

It was around eight o’clock when we finished the mainly silent meal and I was stacking the dishwasher when the phone rang. I raced to grab it, pleased to hear Ryan’s voice on the other end. I walked upstairs with the hands free to take the call in the bedroom hoping he might like to indulge in a little phone sex which was a better prospect than doing it solo even if he were countless hundreds of miles away.

I lay on our bed, shucking my jeans and undies down to my knees to play with my dick while I listened to his explanations. Sometimes I wished he loved money a little less and me a little more but that was ungrateful as he was doing it to secure our future. Then his curiosity turned to why I wasn’t home when he’d come back to pack a bag for his trip.

There was no use antagonizing him further about his dad so I lied and told him I’d gone to the library for research. I already had my courses lined up for the new semester and I wanted to get a head start, I told him.

“I dropped into that gay bar near the movie house, you know the one,” I explained. “I had a few beers to help clear my head and guess what? This fat guy at the bar sends over a free beer, then comes over to my table and offers me money for sex. He thought I was on the game. So did the barman.”

We both had a good laugh at me as a sex worker although I found it much less amusing that Ryan who used sex for relief while I used it for pleasure. He was strictly vanilla, whereas I was not averse to a walk on the wild side. I loved cock while he didn’t like anything near his ass, not even my tongue. It made lovemaking with Ryan a very one-sided affair.

“Guess what I’m doing while I’m talking to you?” I purred down the phone.

He didn’t have the imagination to guess or the wherewithal to understand why I would need to be doing what I was. The idea of stroking his cock while I talked dirty to him on the phone was a concept so alien I gave up trying, my cock withering under his lack of understanding. Yep, I did beg, telling him of my needs but it made no difference. He didn’t comprehend sexual needs.

I could have jerked off just to the sound of his voice but he was sprouting such inanities it was counter-erotic.

He said he’d ring me when he could but he expected to be incredibly busy for the next week or so asking me to be patient if I could[DC1] n’t raise him on his mobile phone. I wasn’t to worry as the deal was so hush hush that he couldn’t afford any of his competitors to get wind of it. It was all gobbledygook to me as I don’t have a mind for business so I didn’t take it all in. I was bored now. If he wasn’t going to help me out and he was going to be almost certainly uncontactable in the Twilight Zone for the best part of a week then I was on my own.

Zef would make a big deal out of it, suggesting all sorts of nightmare scenarios of infidelity, but I knew Ryan’s appetites almost as well as my own and he was never hungry enough for sex to go to such a subterfuge. Besides, he’d done this sort of thing before.

“I’ll miss you,” I said.

“Me too.” He sounded sad.

“I love you, hurry back.”

“Love you, Grant.”

Sighing, I gave my limp dick a few dispirited tugs but it refused to get hard again so I tucked it away. A sound in the hallway outside the bedroom disturbed me and I wondered if Zef had been listening to the phone conversation. Fuck him! What did I care?

Pulling the bedclothes over me, I thought I’d try to nap. There was no way I wanted to spend the evening downstairs with Ryan’s dad, the butt of his jibes. Besides, I was more exhausted than I thought. The stress of holding my natural sarcasm in check, plus the attempt to be friendly to Zef had taken it out of me and I fell into a deep sleep. I didn’t dream of Zef’s cock in particular but my head was full of suggestion so that when I awoke a few hours later, my cock was hard.

The house was still and I heard no sound from downstairs. I reckoned it was safe to get myself a juice to quench my raging thirst. If I was quiet enough I might watch a bit of telly undisturbed by Zef’s inane comments about the state of the world today and how young people are taking the country to the brink. The brink of what, he never quite explained. I used to respond to his goading but now I just let it wash over me like a polluted ocean tide.

Soft groaning coming from the living room made me hesitate on the stairs. Had Zef brought home a sex playmate? He was game as I could easily let the information slip to his wife and she’d keep him banished for longer. Ah, I could see now why he thought I wouldn’t report him. I sneaked toward the open living room door to peek at what was going on. The lights were out, the room’s only illumination coming from the flat screen mounted on the wall but it was enough for me to see a fully naked Zef stroking his prick slowly as he watched a porn movie, recognizing it straight away as one of my favorites, a bisexual gangbang movie in which a young couple are ravished by a gang of burglars who break into their house on their wedding night and proceed to have their way with both bride and groom.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m as gay as Disco but straight men in porn are so hot particularly when they are eager for wet holes and don’t care who they fuck. I guess I identify with the women in gangbang porn and fantasize about taking on a tag team.

Ryan found my taste in porn movies rather distasteful, he was probably jealous that one of him wasn’t good enough to satisfy me. I tried explaining it was all in my head and that it would be bloody uncomfortable and quite painful in real life but that sometimes the good old missionary position just didn’t do it for me when I was handling my own tackle. On those occasions I wanted the full Monty: widescreen, Technicolor fantasy with as many hot men I could conjure. Ryan admitted he never fantasized. Not about sex anyway. I expect when he wanted to get hard he dreamed about money.

Wait a second.

I kept my fetish material in a special drawer in the bedroom so as not to rub Ryan’s face in my unfulfilled fantasy. How the fuck had Zef found it? He must have been going through the house when I wasn’t home. What the fuck?

Now, of course, was not really the time to confront him as I had my own real-live porn experience happening a few feet from me. I know, I was watching a scraggy middle-aged man working over his meat but in my state of frustration his wiry body and taut musculature was as desirable as anything Hollywood could create and his ugly prick was a mouthwatering beauty that I wanted to feel up my ass.

By standing in the darkened hallway I could watch Zef working his stiff rod, eyes glued to the movie, his breath catching in his throat. I hauled out my own dick and milked it quietly while I watched the scene unfold before me, Zef encouraging the tough fuckers in the porn to ‘rip the bitch open’ and other profanities that made my balls tingle.

Who would have thought I’d be jerking off over the sight of a jerk jerking, a homo wanking over his homophobic dad-in-law’s purple-headed prick? I almost chuckled, wondering how Zef would act if he knew he was being used as fantasy fodder by a fag. I didn’t need to wonder because I knew: he’d feel so fucking superior he’d be unbearable.

My attention was equally divided between the screen and Zef pleasuring himself but as time passed and Zef seemed in no hurry to bring on his climax I began concentrating on his cock. If I tried to be objective, ignoring the bastard’s hatred for all things gay, it was a mighty impressive piece of meat. On anyone else, I would have been tempted with Ryan away and having not had my lips, anal or facial, around anything even approximating what I was watching in…well…ever.

Now that I looked, really looked, examining his prick from a distance with forensic impartiality, I could see why women found Zef desirable.  His craggy good looks, his tight slim body without an ounce of fat, and that mammoth appendage – what’s not to like?

The moral part of my brain kept intruding with the obvious answer: his poisonous personality.

I slapped a lock on morality and just wallowed in the sheer excess of what I was watching. It was almost too much and I had to stop tugging on a number of occasions I was so close to losing my load, prolonging the delicious ache in my balls. Zef’s breath was more ragged, his instructions to the actors on the screen more violent when he jumped to his feet, thrust out his hips and blew an arc of spunk across the coffee table.

OMG! I thought his squirts would never end. He was in danger of drowning a small Pacific island with the amount of spooge his balls produced. Unconsciously, I poked out my tongue as if to catch the drops to taste for myself.

Shit, I was a sick and faithless fuck.

I fled back to my bedroom, my cock bursting, my ass twitching. I slammed open the drawer beside the bed, greased up, and inserted my favorite dildo in my ass before I lost the image of what I’d just witnessed.

I tried to imagine it was Ryan’s hand on my cock and Ryan’s dick in my ass but Zef’s image kept swatting him aside. The battle was brief and Zef won out in the end, fantasies can’t be cheated. I relaxed into it, wondering what Zef’s weapon would feel like wedged in my butt, my dildo a poor excuse in comparison.

I erupted all over my stomach and chest, murmuring ‘Fuck me Zef’ as I slammed the rubber cock as far up my anal canal as it would go, my sphincter clamping it in place.

Wild. Fantasy rocks.

I heard movement in the hallway again and wondered if someone had been watching me. Someone? I was becoming paranoia central. The only other person in the house was Zef and he must be downstairs cleaning up his messy spunk from the coffee table. Before that image could make me hard again, I brought my morality shield back up and fell asleep superior in the knowledge that what happens in your fantasy, stays in your fantasy. It doesn’t encroach on real life.

Right! What a smug bastard I was. And how ripe for a fall. Not long in coming either.

The next morning I awoke to the delicious smell of coffee wafting from downstairs. I bounded out of bed prepared to take on the world, anxious to give Zef the opportunity to turn over a new page. Forget it. He as good as took the whole volume and ripped it to shreds with his greeting, “Morning, fag,” as I entered the kitchen. He was dressed, if you can call it that, in another towel which somehow seemed even skimpier than the one he wore yesterday, his cock and balls dangling below the hemline.

I shook my head to dislodge the image although it clung on tenaciously.

“Put some clothes on!” I snapped.

“Snappy fag, this morning. Missing our boyfriend, are we?”

“I don’t know if you’re missing yours, but I’m missing mine.”

Touché. A goal to my team.

Or it would have been, had he understood the semantics. He looked at me blankly. It wasn’t worth explaining to him.

“And just where is the man who rocks your boat?”

I wish I knew.

“He never tells me,” I admitted reluctantly. “It sounds awful, but I don’t have a head for business. I ask to be polite but I’m really not very interested. Just as he’s not interested in my field, so it balances itself out. You probably know more about his dealings than I do.”

“Nah, we don’t talk much, him being a fag—”

“And you being a fag basher.”

He ignored the putdown.

“He’ll ring me when he gets a chance. Meanwhile, I’ve got his mobile number if there’s an emergency at home. It’s usually turned off because he’s in meetings but I can leave a message.”

“What if there’s an emergency at his end?”

“I guess he’d phone.”

“What if he can’t? How would you know what had happened?”

“Way to bring a guy down, Zef. I’d ring Derwent if I didn’t hear from him. Derwent is his personal assistant.”

I saw the beginning of a smirk twitching at the corners of his mouth. I felt the need to squelch it.

“Don’t even go there, Zef. I trust Ryan. Before you ask, Derwent is the cutest young twink you’re ever likely to lay your eyes on. Ambitious as fuck and has come on to Ryan on numerous occasions but Ryan always tells me about them.” I played my ace. “Besides, Ryan is not that much into sex.” Oops, I played my Joker. I wanted to slap myself for blurting that out.

“That must be why you can’t take your faggy eyes off my cock.”

I’d had enough. “Look, I don’t like you or your fuckin’ comments—”

“You just like my cock, eh?”

“On anyone else I’d be on my knees sucking it so hard his brain would cave in. On you…” I spat.

“So you’re with Ryan for the money?”

“You can find something nasty in everything, can’t you?”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Truth?”

He nodded. I wasn’t about to let him get under my skin.

“You can turn your little recording device on or take notes now if you want. I have nothing to hide from him. Yes, of course, the money is good. I’m a fuckin’ student for Christ’s sake. If I hadn’t met Ryan I’d be sharing a room with some cretinous fag basher half your age…” I looked him up and down and put the boot in, “A third your age, on campus and working my ass off in a burger joint just to have enough to barely survive. I didn’t have much experience when I met Ryan—”

“And you still don’t by the sound of it. This is definitely one case of unlike father, unlike son. Maybe you need a bit of training…” He grabbed his cock, waving it in my direction. I noticed it was semi-tumescent.

“If I need training, I’ll hire a professional.”

“Save your money, go straight to the best.” He opened his arms wide as if advertising his credentials.

“Think I’d need a few references before I took your word for it.”

He handed me his mobile phone. “Call any of them. They’ll vouch for me.”

I attempted to squeeze as much sarcasm into my voice as possible. “Think I’d prefer a reference from a male if it’s all the same to you.”

He grabbed his phone back and scrolled through his phone book, selecting a number before handing it back to me. I was so tempted to dial.

“Go ahead. Test me.”

I put the phone down on the table. “I thought you didn’t like fags as you persist in calling them.”

“It turns some guys on. Calling them fags. Know what I mean?”

Before I had a chance to stop it, my head was nodding.

Shit! I’m so transparent.

“You, too, eh?”

“In some situations,” I admitted. No use attempting to lie my way out of it now.

“Now you haven’t answered the question.”

“My cock has no problem at all with fags.”

“But you wouldn’t want your son to marry one?”

He shrugged. “His mother and I did have other plans for him.”

“How about you?”

“Me what?”

“Would you marry a fag?”

“Nah,” he said. He got up and heading for the door, informing me he was going to take a shower. He turned at the last minute to add, “Wouldn’t marry one but I’d sure fuck one, especially if he was as cute as you.”

Then he was gone.

I sat down in surprise, so many conflicting emotions running through my head.

He has an amazing cock. 

But he’s your father-in-law. 

He said he’d fuck me. 

He’s Ryan’s dad, are you listening? 

Remember, he said your ass is hot. 

You’re in a relationship.

I wonder what it would be like to be trained…fucked by a guy who really knows what he’s doing?

You think his cock is ugly.

Not when you divorce it from his personality.

You’re in a monogamous relationship.

I need more experience to please Ryan.

Sex isn’t everything.

With Ryan, it’s close to nothing. I want to see if I’m missing out?

And if you are?

I’ll rethink my relationship.

Fidelity is more important than good sex.

Did you hear what you just said?

You think he’s a dog.

You’re beginning to repeat yourself.

…I win.

The argument in my mind took a matter of seconds and I knew if Zef were to come on to me, my hold out would be extremely short lived. Amazing how the prospect of a big cock up your ass can make someone look more attractive than you first thought.

I wandered into the living room to have my coffee stopping, open mouthed, when I noticed Zef had not cleaned up his mess from the previous night. It was enough to make me forget how much I was attracted to his cock until I noticed he hadn’t cleaned up his spunk either. It was no longer a puddle of man juice but had dried out leaving a small scab of spooge adhering to the table.

Seething, I went to the kitchen to get a garbage bag for the cans and other rubbish he’d left plus a cloth to wipe away the tell-tale deposit. I’d give him a piece of my mind when he was out of the shower. I left the dried sperm until last, careful to clear the detritus from around it. Had you asked me why, I would have been hard pressed to answer. I kept glancing at it, there seemed to be so much, wondering what his slime would taste like.

When I dumped the bag of rubbish in the kitchen I went back to clear away all traces of his solo action. It had the appearance of a salt slick as I kneeled with my damp cloth determined to erase all trace of his appalling behavior. I bet he wouldn’t have done it if Ryan had been home.

Ryan. I suddenly felt guilty because I hadn’t given him much of a thought since I’d been seduced by the sight of Zef’s cock though in the glare of his personal habits he was becoming less appealing. Unconsciously I ran my finger across the slick and then tasted it. Damn. Not enough of it adhered to my finger to have a flavor. I stared at it as if mesmerized. Again, I don’t know what made me do it but I leaned forward and ran my tongue across the subject of my fascination.

Mmm, salty on my tongue. I stared at it again, determining whether to sample it again when I was interrupted. “That’s it, boy, lick it all up.”

Startled, I was about to jump to my feet but Zef held me in position on my knees.

“Don’t waste it, son. Good spunk is hard to find and this is the best, dry or not. Lick it up!”

I resisted but he forced my head down onto the coffee table, rubbing my nose in the dried patch. 

“You know you want to lick it all up like a dog. Go on, boy. No one will know. I won’t tell Ryan you sucked my dried spunk off the coffee table. Or what a disgusting little fag you are.”

The feel of his powerful hand around the back of my head plus the close proximity of his towel-wrapped body heated my blood. I could always say that he forced me if the story ever got out. I justified it on the grounds that it was against my will even though I had willingly taken the first taste.

He yanked my head back by the hair, making me look up into his nasty eyes, flecked with what I read as the most disgusting, the filthiest thoughts imaginable. This was his method of letting me know his orders were not to be toyed with, that I was in real physical danger.

I flicked out my tongue in compliance and he patted me heavily on the head. “Good faggot, I knew you were nothing but a gutless slut.”

He pushed my head back to the coffee table rubbing my face in his dried spooge until the smell filled my nostrils and my tongue licked the surface clean, all the while he abused me as ‘filthy faggot,’ ‘cock whore,’ ‘cum slut,’ and much worse. I was strangely aroused by the verbal humiliation and Zef’s dominant personality, more excited than I ever had been with Ryan. Maybe I was all the names Zef called me.

When I’d finished cleaning up his mess, Zef yanked my head back and, without hesitation, I opened my mouth as instructed. I wondered at my obedience. Zef tilted his head forward and spat into my open mouth. Under normal circumstances I would have been disgusted and spat it out immediately but I was so aroused I swallowed, perilously close to shooting a load in my pants.

“Good faggot,” Zef cooed, and I was exhilarated by his compliment.

He pushed his thumbs into my open mouth, stretching my lips, opening my jaws before pushing three fingers as far into my throat as he could. I gagged. I tried to push him away, but he was stronger than me.

“Arms by your side, boy. Don’t try to fight it. Relax and you’ll be okay. Struggle and it will be much more unpleasant.”

I did as I was told.

“Good slut.”

Why am I trying to please this man?

“Do as I say, boy. Open your mouth wide, as wide as you can. That’s it. Now just relax, don’t fight it. Be a good faggot, do as daddy tells you. Open wider.”

My jaw ached but I did as commanded.

“This is what you want, isn’t it, slut?” He removed his towel, his cock standing deliciously close to my face. “You want my cock, boy? You want to feel your boyfriend’s dad’s big juicy prick in your throat, sucking all the spunk out of his balls? That’s right, hold still. I’m going to ride your mouth, boy. Fuck it like it’s nothing but a cum dump. All you have to do is keep your mouth open and take everything I dish out. Don’t try to suck my cock, don’t try anything at all. Got it?”

I nodded my head.

“Good boy.”

He pushed his cock roughly into my gob. “Take a deep breath, fag.”

I just had time to gulp in a lungful of air before he grabbed the back of my head and rammed his cock all the way in. I felt it reach my throat muscles which attempted to hold it back then the sheer force opened them wide and he was in to his balls. My eyes must have opened in sheer terror as my oxygen supply was cut off.

“Don’t fight it, boy. That’s the worst thing you can do. Just let it happen. I’ll take care of you.”

He was so reassuring, I knew he wouldn’t let me choke to death on cock although the idea of having that on a death certificate was somehow appealing. I couldn’t relax completely so he withdrew his prick far enough for me to take another breath at which point I was so relieved I did relax. That must have been his signal because he rammed back in pushing the tardy breath into me as he blocked my throat. Zef pushed in and out slowly until my gag reflex gave up in disgust and his mammoth weapon felt comfortable.

“This is it, boy. You’re gonna get the face fuck of a lifetime. I bet my faggot son doesn’t ride your lips like I’m gonna. Your pretty face was made to be fucked like a whore’s cunt.”

Did he just call me pretty?

Oh, shit!

He held my head so firmly in his grip it was as if I was totally constrained. He’d lulled me into such a passive state I took the first few slams comfortably, and then my panic reflex kicked in. He was fucking my face like it was just a hole for his entertainment, of use only for his cock to spew its junk in. That was confirmed by the tirade of abuse he heaped on me.

I couldn’t help but gag as he pierced my throat savagely time and time again until his cock was covered in drool, long strands of gag juice dribbled from my chin, attached to his slimy cock as he pulled it from my mouth to give me seconds to breathe before he plunged back in again.

It was intense, and it was frightening. Why was I so turned on?  This ugly man could use my mouth for anything he wanted because, among the demeaning epithets he threw at me, there was also a stream of encouragement and compliments.[DC2] The small part of my mind that wasn’t concentrating on the mouth battering I was receiving did a quick calculation on how many compliments Ryan had given me over the years we’d been together. For all his supposed care and love, Ryan had never once offered even the most basic acknowledgement of my worth to him while his dad, regardless of the brutality of his fuck, was treating me with more humanity than his son.

He was also unleashing something inside me that had lain dormant all my life.

I was so aroused by his sexual humiliation that I ejaculated into my trousers. I didn’t fucking care. I felt so liberated as I took Zef’s cock down my throat, overjoyed I could please this ugly man and his even uglier prick. If I could have smiled around his engorged cock, I would have.

It seemed like hours, but it must have been less than a minute or two that Zef stopped his violent face fuck, allowing me to breathe normally although my throat was coated with gag slime and felt as raw as a whore’s ass. I gulped in air, coughing up phlegm as Zef smeared the excess off his cock across my upturned face. That evil smile seemed a lot more benevolent than it had previously. He was breathing deeply as well.

“Fuck, boy. You sure can take punishment. I knew the first day I saw you that you were a natural.”

A natural what? 

“Wowee, that was some ride. You’re a fuckin’ Grade A fag. No wonder Ryan keeps you around.”

He had to go and spoil it.

He must have seen the look of disappointment cross my face.

“Hey, fag, I’m no snitch. I won’t tell your boyfriend,” he said by way of placating me.

He didn’t get it.

When I didn’t smile, a cloud crossed his face.

“That’s not it, is it? I know you’re a fuckin’ slut so it can’t be the language. I know how much you enjoyed that. I know you love cock. I know Ryan doesn’t treat you like you should be treated. Like you want to be treated. Dominated. So you must be getting it outside the relationship or else Ryan is bringing home extras for you.”

I guess my shock registered.

“You and Ryan don’t play around?”

I shook my head.

“Let me guess, you don’t play up on the side?”

I shook my head again.

“Fu-uck. Then Ryan is truly no son of mine. If you were my fag you’d be on your back taking cock all day and night.”

I couldn’t believe I moaned at the thought.

“I knew it. If you were one of my boys, oh the fun we could have.”

His boys?

As if to demonstrate, he slid his cock over my tongue allowing me to pleasure him, suck, lick and nip his huge shaft as he poked it gingerly into my tormented throat.

“Mmm, you do gentle just as good as rough,” he said, a slight whimper to his voice.

I licked and sucked his balls as he towered over me before returning to his cock, taking it all the way down.

“You can’t get enough, can you, boy? That’s it. I want you to taste my nasty cock phlegm. I want to see that pretty face of yours covered in my spunk. I bet you’d love to drown in ball juice.”

He increased the pace but not enough to cut off air flow and I matched him all the way. I forgot everything except pleasing this man.

“Shit, I can’t hold off,” he panted just before he pulled his cock from my disappointed mouth and aimed it at my face giving it a last few tugs. The first squirt spattered across my cheek and forehead. I opened my mouth wide and was rewarded with a warm string of spunk which tasted like nectar as I swirled it around on my tongue. I was sticky when he’d shuddered to completion, opening his eyes to look down on my spooge thickened face, rubbing his cock across my cheek and forehead and then feeding me his cum-coated cock to clean.

He shivered a few more times as I ran my tongue around the still leaking head of his prick. When he withdrew he lifted me to my feet, ran his hand down the side of my face and suggested a shower was in order. I wanted to beg off because I would have gladly worn his dried cum on my face all day as a badge of honor.

In the bathroom, I peeled off my clothes, contaminated with my infidelity. Ryan wasn’t likely to be home anytime soon so I dropped them on the floor. I’d put them in the wash when I’d cleaned up. Turning on the water, I scraped some of the drying cum onto my finger and sucked it clean. My cock twitched. Ryan had never had that effect on me. Then again, Ryan had never shot his wad all over my face, he was too much the neatness freak.

As I stepped under the warm spray, hoping Zef would join me, I wondered what this would do to my relationship. Relationships?  How would this impinge on my marriage to Ryan? What did Zef expect now? Would we return to our old sparring? Would he want a repeat of what we just did?

Yes, please.

Would he want to take it further?

Dear God, please.

It didn’t escape my notice I was concentrating on my relationship with Zef rather than his son. If I wasn’t still basking in the glow of my sexual indiscretion, I would have realized I had a serious problem.

Zef didn’t join me in the shower. In fact, he gave me a wide berth for the next two days. There was no antagonism which I actually began to miss. I didn’t like the new introspective Zef. He was a bore. I’d look up sometimes and catch him staring at me across the table or the room. Not a nasty stare because I’d learned by now the sneer and the Mr Nasty were an image. Sure, they were an exaggeration but still part and parcel of what went to make up Zef’s complicated personality. I won’t say there was a teddy bear underneath his gruff exterior but there was a rather nice man beneath the several layers of aggression if you just peeled them away.

I was so frustrated with Zef’s lack of follow-up I began to act as slutty and accommodating as possible by following his example and wearing a revealing towel around the house as often as possible. He surprised me by snapping, “Put some clothes on,” after I’d parade near nude for only a few hours. He had gone back to wearing street clothes as soon as we’d finished our short oral escapade.

Something was wrong.

By the second day after our bit on the side, I was screaming for it. He was as agitated as fuck, prowling the house like a caged panther. I decided to go out just to get some air. I felt in the pocket of my trousers for my keys and my fingers touched something familiar. I extracted the card. It was the bear from the bar. My butt twitched at the thought of ringing him. Zef must have been watching him because he reacted angrily.

“Just where do you think you’re going?”

“Out!”

“Going to see one of your boyfriends?” His sneer was like a bug being wiped across a car wind screen.

“Up until our little adventure, I was totally happy with Ryan. Totally monogamous as well. No outside boyfriends. And if,” I emphasized the word, “if I was to have a boyfriend, you’d be first choice.”

I slammed the door on the way out. It was only later when I was seated in a café that overlooked the main shopping street of the town that I realized what I’d said in a moment of pique. Many a truth and all that.

Yes, I had been happy with Ryan in our cozy suburban existence but less than half an hour of Zef’s aggressive form of lovemaking showed me the bubbling dissatisfaction eating away at my soul. But had I really told an ugly old man that he was my ideal boyfriend? Shit, I was in so much trouble. My life was unraveling faster than I could stitch it back together again.

I needed a fuck and I needed it now. I hadn’t heard from Ryan in almost four days. That was unusual enough on its own. The thing that worried me was that I didn’t care. He’d treated me in such a cavalier manner for so long now that I’d finally woken up to it, I was seething. But not enough to go on the hunt for a revenge fuck. Maybe later. I had one man in mind and I would give it my best shot. I’d show him how much I wanted him in case it was my relationship with his son that was giving him pause.

If I wanted to be treated like a slut then I’d have to act like one. I conjured up a number of scenarios by which to seduce Zef, though seduction was not quite the word. I wanted a rough, aggressive fuck from a very large cock that would have me whimpering. Once satisfied with Ryan’s lazy fuck, now all I wanted was to be thrown on the floor and ravished. I snorted my derision. I was acting like the heroine of the trashy romance erotica everyone talks about.

When I arrived home I was disappointed that Zef was not about. There was plenty of evidence he had been as drawers and cupboards had been opened and pillaged, their contents scattered like innards at an abattoir. What on earth was he looking for? Surely it wasn’t porn, as he’d already found my stash. I know he didn’t need money because Ryan had offered, Zef turned him down. He’d seemed more concerned with lack of contact from Ryan than I did which was odd considering he continued to call him ‘my faggot son.’

I wondered at Zef leaving the evidence of his anger, obviously uncaring of my discovering his snooping, unless he intended tidying up before I returned. I had come back much sooner than I’d intended.

His being out took care of seduction scenarios one through five. I’d get myself ready for number six so I could be in position on his return. As time dragged on, I began to lose impetus. If he was much longer, I’d have lost it altogether. I tidied up the bedroom, Zef could tidy up his own mess downstairs although I despaired that he’d ever get around to it. I did clear the living room, because that the center of operations for my scenario, piling the mess of papers, DVDs and books on the dining table. Maybe the mess was a blessing. Now I would be forced to go through the accumulated junk and toss out anything we didn’t need or hadn’t used for a year or more.

When I heard his car pull into the driveway, I was so fucking nervous I was shaking. Shit! I’d left one of the major essentials upstairs. No time to get it, I’d have to improvise. I clicked the DVD on, ran to the kitchen and grabbed the first thing I could find, before throwing myself onto the couch. Still shaking, I reached for the Dutch courage, hoping to time this right. I snorted two hits of the poppers I kept hidden at the back of the drawer under the flat screen, the only drug I used now and then to help me get off while watching porn once Ryan had finished unloading in me, leaving me unsatisfied.

Shit, he was taking too long, the effect of the poppers was wearing off. I doubled the dose and soon I was flying. The visuals on the screen plus the sound of hard group fucking addled my brain. I pushed the zucchini I grabbed from the fridge crisper into my pre-lubed ass. It was cool but it felt so good. So good, in fact, that if Zef resisted the temptation I could still have a whole lot of fun on my own.

I had to slow down, I was in danger of bringing myself off too soon. I had admitted to myself long ago that my ass was the center of my sexual universe but no one had ever taken that claim seriously, planted a flag so to speak. I was hoping Zef might show me the way.

I had the sound level on the porn loud enough to attract Zef’s attention but it also meant I couldn’t hear him enter. I had to continue my self-pleasuring so he could catch me. Third time lucky, I hoped when I sniffed the poppers again, anchored my legs over my head on the lounge and began the relentless pounding of my hole with the very large vegetable.

When he did announce his presence by coughing loudly at the door to the living room, I was genuinely startled, turning crimson with embarrassment but also hyped up enough that after my initial reaction I went right back to what I was doing. There was no way I could stop even if he’d brought Ryan with him. He hadn’t, he was alone. I was pleased to see a bulge filling in his crotch.

He just stood watching, his eyes flickering from the screen to my live action performance. He was going to make me instigate the first move.

“See something you like?”

He shifted uncomfortably. “I see lots of things I like,” he said, nodding toward the screen and toward me. “You like that sort of porn shit?”

“It’s my favorite.”

Group of rough auto mechanics working over two gay lovers whose car has broken down in Nowhere, USA, and who have to give up their asses and their mouths as payment. I always pictured myself in the film, though never Ryan.

“You like group stuff?”

“Never had it,” I replied.

“You like your slut fag ass worked over though?”

Good, he was using the F word again. Meant he was getting into the mood.

I thought I could afford to sneer for once. “What’s it look like?”

“Didn’t get enough from the friend whose name is on this card?” He held it aloft. It must have fallen from my pocket and he found it.

“Just some old cunt even uglier than you who tried to pick me up in a bar. Thought I was hot enough he wanted to pay me.”

“Looks like I was right about what a whore you are.”

“I only take payment in cock and spunk.”

Was this really me talking?

“You had me fooled for a while,” he said stripping off his clothes. “I thought that routine about loyalty to Zef and the happy homo life was genuine. More fool me. That’s why I haven’t touched you again. But now I see you’re just a cheap fuckin’ hole for cock, well, who am I to pass up such an inviting invitation?”

“You like to work over fag sluts, eh? Makes you feel like a real man, eh, you ugly fuckin’ old cunt. Think you can get it up long enough to fuck me, old man?”

He ripped the substitute cock from my ass to replace it with three of his fingers. It burned as he plunged them in and out, twisting and turning as if he were kneading dough. It hurt like fuck.

“God, you’re so tight, I don’t fuckin’ believe it.” He looked at me uneasily. “You really a slut?”

“Believe it,” I boasted bravely.

“Hmm, I know a few guys who would really love to work you over like those whores in the movie. How would you like that?”

“Bring it on, fucker,” I swore, excited to the point of orgasm by what his fingers were doing to my ass.

“You man enough to take my cock? Lots of fags think they can handle it but scream when they find out how big it is stretching their guts. Once I’m inside you, slut, I won’t be stopping for begging, pleading or seismic seven earthquakes although that’s what you’ll think had hit you when I’ve finished with your ass.”

“You think you’re man enough to satisfy me?”

The dare was on.

I wasn’t stupid, I’d left a plastic bottle of lube on the coffee table so he could grease up his weapon before he lunged into me. Zef flicked the lid while he still had his three fingers in my ass, drizzling the gel along his shaft, then rubbing it in with his free hand.

“You want foreplay? I can take it gentle till you’re comfortable.”

“Skip the foreplay,” I said. “I’ve had bigger and not even felt it.”

“Oh, you’ll feel this you little fuckin’ slut. I’ll make sure of it.”

My mouth was running away on me. If it didn’t shut up soon, it’d be responsible for doing me a serious injury.

“You might like to take a hit from your drug bottle there because when I meet a real fuckin’ slut whore like you, I like it extra rough.”

Okay, there’s brave and there’s stupid. After a promise like that it was wise to tread on the cautious side. I took an extra-large sniff or five and placed the bottle back on the coffee table. Before I had even let it go, Zef had extracted his fingers from my stretched ass and positioned his cock at the entrance. He waited until he saw I was away with the pixie fumes before he slid his mammoth cock right down to his balls in one smooth action. I watched as it entered my asshole, stretching me wider than I ever dreamed possible until I took every inch of it.

“Holy fucking Christ!” I moaned.

Zef’s cock filled every available space in my bowel. I felt so full I never wanted him to pull back even though the burning pain of my ass muscles stretching to accommodate him screamed for mercy. He was having none of it. Pausing just long enough to see I was still conscious I presume, he withdrew the full length and plunged again. The friction against my sphincter was intense but I could endure it, even get to like the way the bulbous head of his prick scraped my prostate.

“You fuckin’ little cock tease,” Zef sneered as his face loomed over me, doubled up on the lounge, my legs in danger of snapping. “I’ve wanted to bury my fuckin’ pole in your ass since that first day, fuck you into oblivion like you deserve. Shit, your ass is so tight, I could fuck it forever and never get sick of it. I love your whore’s ass, want you to be my cock puppet. Want to breed your sloppy asshole, son. Steal you away from my useless fag son, treat you like the slut you are. Farm you out to all the ugly old fuckers who want to breed your raw ass. You like that idea, boy?”

“Yes, daddy. Anything to please you. I’ll be your whore, your slut, your fuck hole, your cum dump.”

“What about Ryan?” he said, momentarily bringing reality into the sexual equation. It almost threw me until I realized he wanted permission to cuckold his own son.

“Forget him, daddy. You’re ten times the man he will ever be.”

“Slut!” He grabbed me by the throat and squeezed so that I opened my mouth to cry out. He spat savagely on my face, some of his spit dribbling into my mouth. “Fuckin’ whore. Take it like the back alley slut you are. You’re not good enough for Ryan. You’re just a common cock craving cunt, like all the other fags. Your ass is there to be fucked and abused, I told Ryan what sort of crude fag you are. He didn’t believe me. If he could just see you now.”

Zef kept up his rhythm as he screwed me into the lounge, grabbing my mobile phone from the side table to film us fucking. I didn’t care. I knew he wouldn’t dare send it to his son because it would implicate him as well. I decided to make sure of that.

“Fuck me, Zef. Ram me with that pole between your legs, split me open, Zef. I’m a slut for your cock. Fill my ass with daddy spunk till I can’t take any more.”

Zef kept one hand tight round my throat while he banged my butt filming as much as the mobile phone would take. Then he put it down to concentrate on getting his rocks off. If Ryan had little regard for me and my needs, Zef was much the same, concentrating on his cock in my hole. He watched it slide through my ass lips admiring the vision. I know because he verbalized his appreciation. The major difference between father and son was that Zef could keep the action going long enough that it brought me to the edge.

With a string of expletives that were way outside even a sailor’s league he slammed into my guts one more time and I felt his spunk flood my anal passage. It set me off and soon my cum was spurting across my belly, my ass twitching to clutch the cock embedded inside me.

 “Fuck, boy,” he panted, struggling to catch his breath. “Fuck.”

He pulled out, sitting on the coffee table as I lowered my legs, my back aching from the cramped, doubled-over position, his cum dribbling out of my ass.

“I need a drink,” I said standing unsteadily, heading to the kitchen. “You want something?”

“How about some juice?”

I didn’t bother to dress as I hoped there might be some cuddling or even a repeat involved. I took my mobile with me to see the action that he’d shot. I was engrossed in the footage of Zef in my ass, cursing me, while I poured a juice for the two of us, when I noticed he’d sent the video to two numbers in my address book. I shuddered. He’d sent evidence of my infidelity to his own phone, maybe to upload it to X-Tube, and also to Ryan. I was fucked. Well and truly. I was about to storm into the living room when I was stopped by loud knocking on the front door along with the constant tone of the bell. I heard Zef swear vehemently as he scrambled for his clothes. Whoever was at the front door was impatient and the hammering did not let up.

Zef yelled, “Hold your horses, I’m coming.”

As he passed the kitchen he tossed my clothes in to me. “Here, get dressed quickly.”

It almost sounded as if he knew who our visitors were.

I wiped my butt on a cloth in the sink and quickly pulled on my trousers. I was just slipping into my shirt when two belligerent looking men appeared in the doorway asking for me by name.

“That’s me,” I said

They identified themselves as police and asked me to accompany them to headquarters for questioning.

“What’s this all about?” I asked as they manhandled me toward the door.

One of the men snorted. “As if you don’t know.”

They didn’t give me much choice in the matter of accompanying them as both of them held an arm each. I looked to Zef for help but he merely put his finger to his lips which I assumed meant keep my trap shut. About what?

“Is Ryan all right? Has there been some sort of accident?”

“I’d like to come with him,” Zef said.

“Afraid not, sir,” one of the cops replied. “This could take quite a while.”

The last I saw as I was driven away in the police vehicle was Zef watching from the front door, his mobile in his hand.

I’m normally the calmest of people when up against authority. There’s no point antagonizing people who hold all the aces, so I was mute for the car ride to the city, wondering what had happened to Ryan and why Zef had encouraged me to be silent.

I’ve never liked cops, except as sex partners on an irregular basis, not that I’ve done that but it’s a fantasy to fulfill in later life. If I have one.

I was put in a room and told to wait, all the cops beginning to blur in my mind, their hostility was of such similarity. When a cop opened the door to the interview room and I looked out, I saw a group of them with my mobile phone watching the screen. I didn’t need to hear my voice begging to be fucked to know it was me they were watching. Their comments were ribald, vulgar and homophobic although one cop said, “Shit, I’d fuck him. He’s a cute slut and look at the ass and the lips on him. Bet he’s be better than most of our wives, eh?”

He looked up and his gaze met mine. He winked while his mates gave him hell.

I forgot Zef’s instructions as soon as the taped questioning began.

“Has something happened to Ryan?”

“You tell us,” one of the cops said.

“Well, I haven’t heard from him for a week.”

“Isn’t that unusual?”

“Yeah. When he’s away it’s normally only a day or two before he calls.”

“But you weren’t worried?”

“Sure, but…”

The cop questioning me turned to his mate and chuckled, “But you had other things on your mind. Or should I say in your ass.”

The cops would tell me nothing but it obviously had to do with Ryan and, from what I gathered, he had to be alive as they were chasing his whereabouts. I didn’t know where he was any more than I knew the maneuverings of his company. They didn’t seem to believe me. My answers mainly consisted of ‘I don’t know,’ until an older gent turned up informing the cops I would no longer answer any of their questions and if they had any evidence they should charge me.

Tom Gadd was my lawyer it seems although I had no idea who hired him let alone how much he would cost but by the looks of his expensive suit and accessories he was way out of my league.

“Who hired you, Mr Gadd?” I asked as soon as we were out of earshot of the cop questioners.

“Not permitted to say, lad. The Good Samaritan wishes to remain anonymous.”

“Thanks for getting me out.”

“Not a problem, though I suspect they’ll be on to you again. Just give me a call when they are. We’ll sort it all out. Above all, don’t say anything at all without me there. Got it?”

“Got it.”

As he returned my confiscated mobile phone, we both looked up at the sound of shouting coming from one of the offices along the hallway. We couldn’t make out the exact words but the tone left no doubt as to the anger involved. We did hear the barrage of expletives as the door opened and, to my surprise, Zef walked out screaming at the person inside, ‘He’s got nothing to do with it,’ before slamming the door so hard the pictures on the wall in the corridor rattled precariously.

“Well, good day to you, Grant, I hope I don’t see you again but the chances are that I will.”

I watched him walk toward the front door and if I hadn’t been watching forensically I would have missed the curt surreptitious nod of recognition that Gadd and Zef gave one another. Why would he hire a lawyer for me after his brutal betrayal? Curious.

Zef indicated that I should follow him and the foul tempered look on his face brooked no argument. Besides, I wanted to get to the bottom of what was going on.

“Did they give you a hard time?” he asked when I caught up with him.

“Only over a certain video which seemed to amuse them.”

He laughed. “It’ll probably reap rewards for you in future now that…”

I finished the sentence for him. “Now that Ryan’s not coming back any more.”

He appeared surprised. “You knew?”

“I took an educated guess. I may be a faggot slut, but I’m not stupid.”

“Listen, about that.”

“Save it until we’re away from here, then let me give you my few surmises and see how good I am at playing detective.”

“Okay.”

“Then you can tell me where I fit into all this in relation to you.”

He didn’t seem quite as pleased when I said that.

On the car trip back to the house, Zef attempted to start the conversation but I shooshed him. I was still formulating it all in my mind so by the time we entered the house, I had half a good idea about what was going on. We picked up pizza and beer on the way back because I did not feel in the mood for cooking or even brewing a coffee. What I wanted to do was talk.

We settled in on the lounge, the one we’d fucked on earlier, the accoutrements of that explosive sexual adventure still evident as was the cum that occasionally oozed from my butt. We sat at opposite ends, careful to avoid contact. I was sorry because I genuinely liked Zef. Liked him more than I’d ever liked his son.

“Tell me what you think you’ve worked out,” he said patronizingly. I hoped we weren’t going to go back to the fag references.

I took a swig from the cold stubby bottle. “First up,” I said, “I think Ryan’s got himself involved in some scheme that’s gone wrong and he’s skipped the country so no one can find him. Maybe money, maybe drugs. I’m not sure, but whatever he was involved in, it’s big. Now, you either assumed it was my doing and not Ryan’s or that I’d led your little boy astray and that’s why you turned on the, and I quote here ‘little faggot slut whore.’ The whole homophobic redneck was an act because you were angry at me for my perceived involvement in whatever was going on. Don’t interrupt. You can apologize all you like when I finish. If you knew about what was happening that makes you either a cop or a private investigator.”

“Or one of the bad guys,” he interrupted. “Did you ever think of that?”

“You’re too fuckin’ ugly to be a bad guy,” I teased. “I couldn’t work out why you were spending so much time in the house instead of going out looking for work. A guy like you doesn’t bludge off welfare. When you played that DVD I knew you’d been through the house searching for something. It couldn’t have been money because Ryan was always careful not to leave any large amounts lying around. I checked the closet in the bedroom and, sure enough, things had been moved, rearranged. Ryan was an anal retentive when it came to his drawers and his closet. Everything had its spot and I’ll give you credit, you almost got it right. But I have a trained eye for any slight variation, it comes from living with him and his meticulousness for two years. I knew you’d been searching through the house.”

“Not bad for an amateur,” he smiled.

“When Ryan didn’t ring again, I started to worry. I hadn’t seen him come home, I had to take your word for it. I had to assume he hadn’t been taken away by the cops or whoever the bad guys are and forced to make that first call where he couldn’t get off the phone fast enough. You would have been a little upset if Ryan had been disposed of. It stands to reason then, he’d done a bunk. I came to that conclusion much later. I couldn’t work out what you were searching for, except maybe some sort of evidence to connect me to whatever he’d done though I would have thought it obvious that I’d have gone with him if I had been involved.

“When Ryan left and you searched the place but couldn’t find whatever it was you were looking for, that’s when you tried the really dirty tricks. You were convinced I was a slut so you decided to get me onside by treating me like one. Maybe get me to fall for you and reveal any little secrets that you thought I could divulge. That’s the one thing I can’t forgive you for.”

My voice cracked and I stopped to clear my throat.

“Look, I’m really sorry for the abuse and the slut business. I can’t apologize enough.”

“That’s not what I can’t forgive you for,” I said, my eyes clouding. “I thought you liked me. That’s why I played the slut for you.”

“Played? You’re not what you said you were?”

I laughed. “I thought the inexperience would have given me away. I wasn’t kidding when I said Ryan was vanilla. When it comes to positions, he’s a missionary man. Poke it, jiggle it about, blow a load, go to sleep.”

Zef looked aghast. “Shit, man, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“You didn’t hurt me, at least not like that. I loved it. Every rough fucking moment of it. I wanted you to keep on doing it. Through you, I finally learned something about myself.”

“How did I hurt you then?”

“I was starting to develop feelings for you.” I wondered if I should correct myself. “Am developing.”

“Oh, shit. What a cunt I am. I pulled away after that incredible blow job because I thought you were a good kid and I didn’t want to hurt you. It was only when you admitted to being a whore and a cock slut that I took advantage of you.”

“My fault then,”

“Listen, there’s something I’ve got to tell you,” he said looking at the clock. “Um, I don’t know quite how to say this, but…”

He was interrupted by loud knocking at the door.

“They haven’t come to arrest me, have they?”

“No,” he admitted. “Look, I’m sorry, it’s my fault. I told them you were easy. Let me handle this.”

He went to the front door and I could hear arguing. The visitors sounded slightly drunk so I went out into the hallway to see if I could help. I recognized the cops at the door from the station as they pushed their way in carrying a slab of beer.

“There he is,” the first cop shouted. It was the guy who’d winked at me while he was watching the video of Zef fucking me.

The second cop looked me up and down before he added, “Yeah, sweet cock sucking mouth.”

Zef looked appalled, trying to drag them back to the door but there was no way they were taking any notice of him.

“Come in, guys,” I said, to Zef’s obvious discomfort. “Make yourselves comfortable in the living room. Break out the beers. Let me get a porno I’m sure you’d like and we can make a night of it. Hey, Zef. Grab the leftover pizza and see if our friends want any. Get them in the party mood.”

Zef grabbed me by the arm and took me into the kitchen while the other two yahooed as they made themselves comfortable in the living room.

“I don’t think you understand,” Zef said.

“I understand perfectly. Those two in there are here to fuck me. What I can’t work out is whether it’s a present or a punishment. They’re cute fuckers, I’ll give you that. And I did say I liked groups even though I lied. I’ve never been involved in one.”

“I’ll send them home,” Zef said.

“I doubt you’d get them to leave now. Besides, I may not have ever had the pleasure of three guys to gang bang me, but the idea certainly has appeal. Too late to turn back now, even if I wanted to. But I don’t.”

“Three guys?”

“You don’t think I’m letting you off the hook.”

I piled the pizza boxes into his arms and led him by his shirt front back into the living room where I shoved on a bisexual gang bang movie that most straight guys seem to love and away we went. The small talk continued for a little while after the movie began but eventually everyone’s breathing slowed, trousers tented and the sexual frisson in the room was such you could cut it with a knife.

“Any of you guys mind if I make myself comfortable?” I asked as I stripped off my shirt and began to unzip my trousers.

There was mumbled assent.

“Why don’t you guys get comfortable as well? We’re all guys here. Nothing to be embarrassed about.”

There was a flurry of activity as Hal, the good-looking cop who winked at me, and his mate, Neil, peeled off their shirts and their jeans, sitting back down in their jockey shorts. I was seated on the floor between them, my head at cock height. Zef reluctantly stripped but I yanked down his briefs before he could sit down. His mammoth hard cock sprang free.

Hal and Neil were too frightened to start anything so I was about to make a move on Zef’s gorgeous schlong when Hal picked up the bottle of poppers that I’d left on the coffee table.

“What’s this?” he said unscrewing the lid.

“Careful,” I said. “That’s mighty powerful stuff. If you sniff it, it breaks down all moral barriers. Makes you so horny you would fuck anything that moved.”

“You mean I might want to stick my dick in Zef there?” Neil laughed.

“It’s not that powerful,” I joked. “But if there was a sweet cocksucker nearby you might find you want to stick it in his mouth or his ass even though you’re one hundred per cent straight.”

God it was tedious playing games with straight men.

“So, what you’re saying is, if say Hal and me take a sniff then we’ll be so horny we might want to fuck your face or your ass?”

“Yeah?”

“And you’d like, um, let us?”

“Hell, yeah, especially if I took a sniff or two. You guys are hot. Any fag would love to get his mouth or his ass around your hard cocks.”

I looked over at Zef who was looking at the ceiling in wonder.

“It, um, won’t turn us gay, will it?” Neil asked.

“Nah, it just makes you super horny for a while. No side effects. Helps you enjoy yourself.”

“I want to try that.” Neil held it to his nose and sniffed.

I kneeled between the two men to show them how to do it and Neil tried again. It wasn’t long before he reddened in the face and sank back in the lounge.

“Oh, fuck. Sweet.”

I took advantage of the state he was in and pulled down the front of his jockeys, his cock was already a nice seven inches hard and wet on the tip. The window of opportunity was short so I leaned over and took him in my mouth.

“Holy Mother of God,” he stammered.

Hal watched then he, too, took a giant hit from the bottle waiting for it to kick in. When it did he lifted my face off Neil’s cock and pushed it on to his. He closed his eyes, muttering some incoherent prayer to the deity of cocksucking I assumed. Neither of them was expert, having a tendency to shove their cocks roughly in and out of my throat rather than allowing me to do the work.

Zef took charge. “Guys, let me show you how it’s done, okay?”

They didn’t look too pleased to have their cocksucker taken away from them.

“Watch this guys. I guarantee you’ll never have another blow job like it. Okay, boy?”

Zef gave me time to take a giant hit before I licked my tongue along the underside of his shaft to his balls, sucking them gently before making my way back to the head. Licking it to taste his pre-cum I opened my mouth wide, sheathed my teeth and began to slide along his hard thick pole until I felt him hit the back of my throat. I withdrew a little to take a lungful of air then continued to push his cock down my throat.

“Shit, he’s taking it all,” Hal said admiringly.

“I don’t believe it. This guy is one cocksucking genius.”

“He deep throats,” Zef said. I noticed a certain amount of pride in his voice.

I bobbed about on his cock until I needed to come up for air.

“There you go guys. Let him do all the work. You just sit back and enjoy it.”

“Why don’t you direct the action, Zef? You know what you’re doing. Don’t hold back.” I hoped he got my message.

“The little fag loves spunk down his throat, all over his face and in his ass,” Zef encouraged.

“I don’t think I could do his ass, that’s faggot stuff,” Neil said.

“You don’t have to do that if you don’t want to. But one sniff and I bet when you see Zef plug my butt you’ll want a piece of the action.”

The look of wonder on Hal’s face said it all. “You’re gonna take that up your ass?”

I wanted to encourage him without scaring him “And yours as well. If you want.”

“Fuck, yeah. That stuff has really turned me fag for the night. I’ll even let you lick my ass.”

Hmm, a little bird told me Hal was no virgin when it came to gay sex. The little bottle of poppers had done the trick. Feed a bi-curious guy any sort of bullshit to cover his behavior and he’s into it. Neil would take more convincing but I was fine with just blowing him if that’s all I could get. Couldn’t be too greedy for my first group grope.

“Why don’t you grab your ankles, hoist your legs in the air, Hal, let the fag eat your shit hole now.”

Hal didn’t need to be instructed twice. He had his legs hoisted in the air, his sweet mouthwatering butthole on view. He pulled his ass cheeks apart to give me better access and I lapped my tongue from the end of the crack up past his hole to his balls. He squealed like a stuck pig as I reversed direction, taking my time to slip my tongue into his tight hole.

“Man, you have the kiss of an angel,” Hal said. “You should get him to do you, Neil.”

“No one gets near my butthole,” he griped.

“You don’t know what you’re missing, dude.”

Zef judged Neil was the weak link in the activity and commanded me. “Give Neil a taste of your mouth, slut. Suck his balls dry.”

“Yes, sir,” I said with too much enthusiasm to be submissive.

I didn’t think Neil was into the finer points of fellatio, he seemed more a dump and go man. I swirled my tongue around the knob, then placed my mouth over his shaft and moved down toward his balls. He bucked as my tongue slid along the underside, tickling his sensitive prick. I didn’t want him to come too quickly but then Hal said those magic words, “We both took Viagra earlier.”

That was all the encouragement I needed. I went all out to show Neil what a good cocksucker could do and soon he was writhing beneath my mouth like a time bomb ready to explode. Hal had lowered his legs and was slowly stroking his nice sized prick that I definitely wanted to feel in my ass. Neil was not a stayer and soon his cum was bubbling up his shaft shooting into my mouth. I took it all keeping it on my tongue, vacuuming every ounce of the warm salty fluid. He pulled out when the sensation got too much, stumbling out of the room telling us he needed to take a piss.

“If it had been anyone but Neil, I would have told you to drink his piss, slut. Would you do that for me, boy?”

I nodded my head eagerly. Nudging Hal that I wanted another go at his ass. He obeyed instantly and I shoved my tongue in as far as it would go opening him up.

“That’s it, fag boy. Eat my fuckin’ asshole. Suck it clean.”

I opened up to show them both I still had a mouth full of Neil’s spooge. Zef got the idea at once.

“Shit, boy, you sure have a vivid imagination. He hoisted Hal roughly so he was almost on his back, his asshole upright, then he tried prizing Hal’s ass lips open so I could dribble the spunk down inside him.

“How’s that feel, mate?” Zef asked.

“Well, I’d rather the spooge belonged to someone other than Neil but God, it feels so good. Why don’t you put a load in there as well fag boy and you can suck it out later.”

“You heard him, fag.”

I was grateful for the release because I wouldn’t last much longer. I aimed my cock at the stretched opening and started to jerk off.

“Don’t even think about putting your cock inside me, fag. I don’t do that.”

Not at the moment, maybe, but give it time.

It didn’t take long for me to blow a huge load most of which oozed into his bowels. I pushed the remaining spurts in with my finger, taking the opportunity to push inside Hal’s butt. There was no complaint, just the firm grip of his sphincter muscles. I cleaned him up by licking away any of the traces of spunk that still spattered his crack.

Hal flexed his legs for cramp as he lowered them. “This fag is one in a million, Zef. Where’d you find him?”

“Around,” Zef said smiling. “Just around. I’m training him.”

“Doesn’t sound to me like he needs much training.”

“It’ll take a lot for him to match me when it comes to sex,” Zef boasted.

“I’ll do anything, sir.” I said modestly.

“We’ll see, son,” Zef said, ruffling my hair.

Neil looked a bit sheepish when he returned.

“Ah, look guys. I think I might head off. Wife’s expecting me at home so…”

“No problems mate,” Hal said. “And what we did here tonight stays here, okay.”

Neil looked relieved. “Yeah.”

“See you tomorrow,” Hal called.

“See you, Zef.” Then Neil was gone.

“Let the real party begin,” Hal said pulling my face down onto his cock.

By the time Hal finally left some three hours later, I’d eaten two loads out of his ass, drunk his beer piss, swallowed a load of his cum and taken two up the ass. Zef had been no slouch either but I’d copped just a mouthful of his juice.

“I’m saving some for later,” he whispered.

Hal was very eager for a return bout.

“How about it, fag?” he asked as he dressed after wiping his ass and his cock on my face.

“You’ll have to ask Zef. He’s the boss.”

I could see Zef was taken aback. I wanted to see Hal again, I enjoyed his twisted sex needs but I wasn’t about to step out of line.

“You serious?” he asked.

“Definitely,” I replied.

“Any time you like, Hal. Just let me know.”

“Will do. You want I should bring some other guys who are, um, more into it than Neil?”

I looked at Zef.

“Yeah, why not?”

“They can be rough.”

“The fag loves it rough, don’t you?”

“Yes, sir.”

After Hal left I went into the kitchen to make coffee for the two of us.

“That was a test, wasn’t it?” I called.

Zef brought the empty pizza boxes with him, crunching them in his strong hands until they fitted in the garbage.

“And a present. It was never meant as punishment. How do you feel?”

“Like a new man,” I chirped.

“How about an ugly old cunt?”

“I guess that’ll have to do.”

I rode his cock for almost an hour in his son’s bed, until my asshole felt like it had been rubbed raw. I would be sore tomorrow but for now I was content, full of warm cum that I wished I could siphon out of my ass with my own mouth.

I had lots of questions still unanswered but they would have to wait, I was too tired. I lay down and Zef held me in his arms. I wondered what he thought of me. As if anticipating the question he turned me over and clamped his mouth against mine, pushing his tongue between my lips, tasting the salty spunk of the men I’d sucked tonight.

Ryan had never kissed me like that.

I fell asleep, Zef spooning me, hoping it was not all a dream.

When I woke up, Zef was gone. It may sound dramatic, but my heart broke a little. I choked but forced myself out of bed, put on a pair of briefs and headed downstairs for a  heart starter. I smelled coffee. Fresh coffee. My heart did a little skip and I raced down the remainder of the stairs, bursting into the kitchen where Zef was reading the paper, the usual towel around his waist.

“Morning sleepy,” he said without looking up.

“Morning,” I replied in as neutral a tone as I could manage but as I went to the bench to get myself a drink I leaned over and pasted my lips on his. I didn’t try to tangle tongues, just a lip smack that lasted longer than a good morning kiss.

He grabbed me and sat me sideways on his lap. “Someone’s frisky this morning.”

I squeezed his hard-on which was poking through the towel against my butt. “Does this thing never go down?”

“Not when you’re around,” he smirked.

“How long will you be around?” I asked, unsure whether I wanted to hear the answer.

“Depends on you,” he said.

That was what I wanted to hear. Then he spoiled it by adding. “I don’t have a home to go to. Ryan’s mother threw me out for good. Doesn’t want me back. Found herself a younger feller who loves her and won’t play around on her like I did.”

“Oh.”

“And there’s one distinct advantage to staying here.”

“We won’t be. I can’t afford it.”

“That was the one nice thing my bastard son did before he went on the run. Not that he meant it as a nice thing, just protection for his financial ass. The house is yours. Has been for close on two years. He cooked the books so it looks like most of the money came from you. Somewhere along the line he would have got you to sign it back to him but, legally, the house is yours.”

Fuck. I’m landed gentry.

“What was it? Drugs?”

“Nothing so glamorous. Just plain embezzlement. He was taking all the money out of the company without supplying the goods people ordered. Close to three million dollars’ worth. There’d been rumors for about a year that the company was about to go under but he kept up the pretense, sucking every dollar out of his contractors that he could.”

“He didn’t do it alone, did he?”

“What do you mean?”

I shrugged. “When I went out that day, I thought it was time to check up on Derwent. When the message on his cell phone said the number was disconnected I went over to where he lives. Dead giveaway really when there’s a For Lease sign on the front lawn. Neighbors said he left a month before.”

Zef hugged me. “Cops think Derwent left early to smooth the way for Ryan.”

“They were fucking, weren’t they?”

Zef admitted it reluctantly. “Yep.”

I waited to feel the sting. When it arrived it surprised me by its mildness. However, the sliver of pain must have shown on my face.

Zef commiserated. “You’ll get over it. Give it time.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Give me five, ten minutes. That should be enough.”

He laughed. I liked it when he laughed.

“Cop or PI?”

“Ex-cop. True, I’m a landscape gardener now. Had enough murder and mayhem and being a gardener gets me a lot of pussy and ass. Hal told me the cops were investigating Ryan. I couldn’t believe a son of mine would be so corrupt and so stupid, so I decided to do a bit of investigating on my own. That’s why I turned up here. You know the rest.”

“Not all of it. Bi-curious or bi?”

“You want the truth?”

I nodded.

“I’d fuck anything with a hole in it.”

“You sure know how to make a fag feel wanted.”

“I’m way too old to change, even if I wanted to, which I don’t.”

“I was joking, grandpa.”

“Why did you send Ryan the video of us fucking?”

“Two reasons. One, I thought he might get so fucking’ angry he’d call and we could at least trace what country he’s hiding in. Two, to show him what a fuckwit he is leaving you behind.”

Did I dare spoil my mood? Yeah, I’ve always hated uncertainty. “So, where does that leave me now?”

“On the end of my prick, I hope.”

“Not much of an answer.”

“I’m a selfish cunt,” he said.

“Check.”

“As old as Methuselah.”

“Check.”

“Ugly as an asshole of piles.”

“Double check.”

“That’s not enough?”

“Nope. When are you gonna start listing your bad points?”

“Okay.” He took a deep breath. “My tastes are not what you’d call mainstream.”

My eyes opened wide. “Really? I never would have noticed if you hadn’t told me.”

“You don’t know just how far from mainstream.”

“Do they include any of the usual illegal activities we read about in the paper?”

“God, no,” he said. “I’m not a pervert.”

“That’s good enough for me. I’ll try it, if I don’t like it you’ll have to look elsewhere for those jollies.”

“You don’t want exclusive?”

“Fuck. No. How boring is that?”

“Stupefying,” he laughed. “Mate, you could be just the fag I’m looking for.”

“Mate, you could be just the dominant I think I need to broaden my horizons.”

“I can be a bastard,” he warned.

“So can I.”

“What’s say we try another little test?”

“Like yesterday’s?”

“Much worse.”

“Bring it on. As long as it’s not another Neil type, nice as he was.”

“Exactly the opposite. No, this will really test your limits and your commitment. This is real nasty.”

“You want to see me be a nasty fag for you, Zef? I would love to do that for you. I’m up for it.”

“Make or break?”

“Make or break.”

“Right, you asked for it. Three o’clock this afternoon. On your back on the coffee table, legs in the air, ass greased and ready, no poppers, I have to see that you can do this without being off your face. And that means no alcohol either. Your ass should be facing the front door. You should have a pillow under you head to watch as I enter. You can change your mind and back out up until the moment I’m naked.  Then it’s too late. Understand.”

“Uh huh.”

To change the subject, he asked, “What do you want for breakfast?”

In answer, I kneeled under the table, unwrapped his towel and took his cock in my mouth.

Zef went out an hour or so later to clear up a few loose ends and to have his mail redirected to his new home. We hadn’t discussed the sleeping arrangements but Zef had his own room for when he entertained others and I had the same. Yes, there was a twinge when he suggested it but he did protest it was more likely than not, me that would be taking advantage of the arrangement as I was young, hot, and up for anything. As well as having the best ass he’d ever fucked. That was enough to make the twinge subside.

I was nervous all day, wondering how gross the test would be. I was prepared for just about anything. I ran some of the most gross ideas through my mind from family pets to masquerading as a human toilet. I was amazed how many times my cock got hard. Seems I did have a few qualms so I just hoped they weren’t on the agenda that day.

As the appointed time approached, my stomach did a few flips but I was more aroused than apprehensive. I loved the idea of being slave to Zef’s whims, to laying myself open to whatever he wanted of me. I heard the key in the door, pacing my breath so I wouldn’t have a panic attack. Hoping it was going to be something along the lines of the group experience of the previous night, I suspect my face gave me away when Zef came into the house, hesitating on the threshold of the living room.

“Hey, fag,” he called. “You remember Ned?”

The grotesque slob from the bar who’d given me his calling card lumbered into view, a lewd grin plastered across his face. My stomach lurched and I was in danger of upchucking my lunch.

I can do this. I can do this. I can do this.

Zef was obviously into humiliating his partners. Okay, the guy was grossly overweight but I’d concentrate on his cock. After all, he told me it was so large it would turn me cross-eyed. Slowly, I turned my disgust around. Not too slowly as Zef was awaiting my response. Hell, two giant cocks, I’d be in paradise. Maybe they’d do my ass together.

I smiled widely.

“What are you two waiting for? For fuck’s sake, get your clothes off.”