Late afternoon, humidity rising. Exercised enough, Sike lay on his bed, idly thumbing through one of his bike mags, enjoying the familiar bitter-sweet escapism. He was speeding in his mind, eyes fixed on the road ahead. One day he'd be out there riding again. One day. He could just picture taking the lad out for a spin somewhere in the hills. Wild desolate country, just the two of em, no-one else for miles around. Yeahhh. Good times. He grinned, something almost resembling happiness flickering into his head. One day... He paused for a moment, stock still but for a few deep slow breaths, then quickly turned the page and glared at the words with forced concentration. Don't start gettin fuckin sentimental. Won't do you any fuckin good in here.
The lad was late back. Very late. Strange. He downed a half empty glass of water and shoved the magazine away with the rest. Lay flat in the dull heat of the cell.
About twenty minutes later, there came the sound of the door. His boy slouched in, looking paler than usual, shoulders hunched. None of the normal post-match nonchalance.
'Where the fuck have you been?' The man glared, angry at everything and everyone, but most of all himself for caring more than he should.
'Don't wanna talk about it.' Jack sullenly sat on his bed and kicked off his trainers, deliberately not looking over. He brought his legs up on to the bed and hugged his knees, back to the wall, staring into space.
Sike considered the refusal, tapping at his unshaven chin with a meaty finger. He wouldn't shout at him. Yet. Something had happened and he needed to know who was responsible. He stood up and went over, sat on the lad's bed, voice low and quietly insistent. He noted the red marks on the lad's wrists. Knew what that meant.
'That's not good enough, son... You know it isn't.' Still the blank fixed stare to the opposite wall. 'You gotta tell me stuff, yeah? That's the deal. I'm gonna look after yer, remember?'
A long pause. Jack eventually nodded in weary acknowledgement.
'So tell me.'
All the long trudge back to the cell, Jack had been determined to remain emotionless, even though his head was still spinning. He'd persuaded Harry to give him a few minutes time out to clean up along the way (free of those fuckin cuffs finally) and staring into the small scratched mirror near the sinks he'd found himself wondering just who it was staring back at him. Cold water had helped his resolve, but walking back in to face his dad he realised he just didn't have the strength to fake it. Now he was close to tears, but no way was he gonna fuckin cry in front of the big guy. Be strong, Jack. Be a fuckin man. He angrily wiped his face with the back of his hand. Best not tell him everything, Jack. He'll go mental.
'One of the screws don't fuckin like me much. Decided to give me a grillin after the footie. Down in the basement somewhere.'
'Who?' The man suspected immediately though... Have I gotta teach yer another fuckin lesson, mate? Wasn't the first warning enough?
'Ummm... Think his name's Phil. Right chunky geezer. Looks like a bouncer. Acts like one... Arrogant cunt.'
Sike gave a derisive snort.
'Yeah, I know him. Fuckin bender. Not as tough as he likes to make out. Anyone else there?' There ought to have been, thought the man, otherwise he wasn't doin it by the book.
'Some younger bloke. Don't remember his name. Didn't do or say much, just wrote shit down. It's Phil who's the fuckin problem.'
'Kept askin questions about you, but I wasn't tellin him anythin he wanted to hear. He hit me round the 'ead quite a bit. Had me hands cuffed behind so not much I could do bout it. Pushed me off the fuckin chair in the end. Fuckin arm still hurts.' Another determined wipe of his eyes, remembering the fear and humiliation. 'I int no fuckin pushover, dad. Fuckin int.' Jack finally turned his head to stare at the man, his cute features set in stone, the grey-blue eyes two pools of hurt. 'I haven't let you down, have I?'
Sike was breathing deeply, sparks of revenge filling in his head. He had a sudden fierce urge to hug the lad. He pushed himself more fully on to the bed so that he was sat right next to him. Threw a lazy muscled arm round the young man's shoulders.
'You're fine kiddo. You're fine.' He rubbed the lad's short hair affectionately. 'Listen. I'll deal with him. Might take me a little while to sort it, cause of who he is, but I promise yer, I will.'
The lad looked at him, jaw ground tight. He really wanted to believe it, and yet... What could his dad do about a fuckin screw? A sudden replay of the harsh degradation he was keeping secret made him shudder inside. A bitter pill with worse to come.
Sike felt his fury for the bent officer welling up from deep within. How dare he? How the fuck dare he? He should have known what was good for him and stayed well clear: the lad was his, and no-one else was gonna fuckin mess with him if Sike had anything to say about it. If Phil tried any of his queer shit on the lad he'd be a dead man walking... But still, dealing with a screw was always much harder than dealing with a fellow con. Gonna need some careful plannin. Might even need another favour from the guvnor. Tricky. Didn't want to overplay his hand there. He squeezed the lad's shoulder reassuringly; Jack grimaced and made a painful noise as the bruise was caught.
'Take yer top off, let's have a look at that.' Jack stood up and did as he was told, feeling a dull pain as he lifted his right arm. Sike got to his feet to inspect the damage. The area just below the shoulder was colouring up, the bruise spreading. He pressed carefully around it, feeling into the shoulder, working his way around the affected area. The lad grit his teeth.
'Any shootin pain in the bone?' A shake of the head. 'That's good. You tell me if you feel any. We'll go easy on yer upper body trainin for a few days, do some other stuff.' The man went over to his bed and rummaged around underneath, coming back with a small bottle of painkillers. 'Here. Take some of these now, and more later.' He rubbed the lad's head again momentarily and stared down hard at him. 'You'll be OK.'
'Thanks.' Jack felt a whole lot better already. After what had happened that morning, he really hadn't expected the scary fucker to give him any care and attention at all. He got himself a cup of water and dosed himself up, eyeing the tall muscleman reclining back on his bed again.
SIke nodded at the lad's bed. 'Rest.' It wasn't a suggestion.
Jack was feeling mentally exhausted and gladly did as he was told, lying carefully on his uninjured side, body facing the grey wall, eyes closed, mind racing. Events and emotions of the rollercoaster day sped past in no logical order: Squaring up to his tough-nut dad in numb terror, cursing his stupidity... Being shoved off the chair on to the cold floor, head spinning, the roar of his ugly captor... The bull mounting the young matador... Scoring a goal under the darkening sky, the approval of his team echoing around the courtyard... The fit young officer's wedding ring there on his steady hand as it gripped the long cut prick, Jack watching it take aim in disbelief... Resistance gone... The insidious threat of gangrape, no knowing when... Evil piss flooding over his tongue... Sitting at his dad's feet where he belonged, tonguing the juicy meat which had fed him so many times already, gazing up in relief and awe at the tower of muscle above... You like yer dad's big straight dick, don'tcha son?... Fuckin hell, yeah... And doin' what yer fuckin told... 'll be a good boy, dad, promise, just let me show yer... The strong arm around his shoulders, pulling him close... Serious action to come tonight... Instructions to be obeyed... The two of em locked up n horned up... Again, his dark twisted wank fantasy, reflected in the porn mag, the impossible becoming real... His dad boning that sexy bird on the double bed, iron shaft rhythmically working her hot, tight pussy, her moans of delight... So fuckin horny... Imagining what it's like... You want some o this son?... Yeahhh dad...
His rock hard dick throbbed painfully in his jeans, desire and guilt duelling for supremacy in his puzzled mind. He saw again the facefucked straight lad in the scratched mirror, familiar and yet unrecognisable; seriously screwed up now, intcha Jack? Where the fuck is your life goin? It's OK. I've got me dad back at last. Fuckin sweet. He's lookin after me, me him. Nothin queer bout it... Why didn't you tell him everything that happened today? Scared to... What if he finds out? He won't... You sure? What if he does?... He won't. His uncertain thoughts ever so slowly scattered into a fitful doze.
Sike sat up on his bed, watching his son from across the cell, working his fists into each other and feeling spiders of tension running through his arms. God he needed that fuck later... His violent frame of mind had not subsided, if anything, it had intensified; the aggressive mood he'd felt upon waking had been a mere forewarning. He felt like seriously beating someone to a pulp. One thing was certain: Phil was gonna learn the meaning of regret. But all in good time.
Some hours later, the long threatened storm finally approached for real, warning rumbles invading the prison building. Jack had struggled to play pool properly with his mate Rob because of his injury and was feeling a bit despondent about it. He'd not seen the nasty officer at the meal, thankfully, but Harry had been down there chatting to some other screw. He'd caught Jack's eye briefly and nodded once, unsmilingly. Jack hadn't responded and had looked away immediately as a vivid flashback filled his mind with unwanted images... The madness of him welcoming the violation he'd instigated... Feed me yer fuckin load mate... The tight grip of the married man's firm hands as he shot a torrent of tasty nutjuice straight down his defenceless victim's throat... Shiiiiiiiiit.
Wrong place, wrong time. Nothing more. Vacant stare into space, the clatter and chatter of the assembled crowd seemingly distant, until his mate nudged him.
'Oi. Dreamer. You eatin that?'
'Nah. Not hungry.'
'Right, don't mind if I do then...'
Another furtive glance in the officer's direction. Harry didn't see it.
Back in the cell, it got no better. His dad was being ultra gruff and uncommunicative as they played cards once again on the small table, tops off, the air stuffy, ominous intrusions from the dark sky outside. Jack racked his brains to think if he'd done something else wrong, but his mind drew a blank. They were once more on the hard stuff (not that the he'd been asked: an oversize measure had simply been thrust on the table in front of him) and fuckin hell did he need it today of all days. Some welcome escape from the oppressive fear slicing into his bones.
He forced a grin every now and again across the table when either of them won, trying to encourage some of the warmth he'd been shown earlier, or at least the undercurrent of sexy banter that often ensued other nights, but the big guy was being oblivious and distant. His mighty muscular frame seemed more menacing than usual in the heavy punctuated silence; hunched shoulders, furrowed brow, glint of something truly frightening in his dark eyes.
Flashes of lightning from the small window pierced the room with associated cracks of thunder, increasingly aligned as the storm approached. The light flickered. Jack felt the buzz of alcohol making his head swim more than usual; he hadn't had enough to eat to soak it up. Why the fuck was the big guy ignoring him all of a sudden? It was all too fuckin weird. He finally found the courage to say something, putting his cards face down on the table.
'Son.' Sike looked up from his cards, seeing again the bruise on his son's upper arm and mentally strangling the perpetrator.
Sike's glowering look spelled trouble, and he sounded irritated at the interruption, but Jack couldn't back down now.
'You've hardly said a fuckin word tonight. What have I fuckin done?'
Sike regarded his boy, the picture of youth on the edge of manhood. Old enough to fuck n fight; young enough to still be feeling things for the first time. Hurt, cute face staring at him imploringly... Needs his dad, don't he? You promised to look after him, dintcha? Sike's mind was a haze of vodka, pent-up aggression and suppressed emotion: the first two were familiar enough, the latter was fucking with his head bigtime. He hadn't felt anything about anyone for a long time. Not like this. And for the first time in a long time, there was a sliver of fear. Fear of things being out of his control.
' 'm thinkin.'
Jack paused. 'Thinkin what?' It was an innocent enough question.
The man continued to glare at him fiercely, swigged down his drink and slamming the cup down on the table. When he finally spoke, it sounded slow and deliberate, as if he was making a great effort to hold himself back. 'Thinkin you shouldn't ask fuckin questions when I can't give you any fuckin answers.'
The lad stared back, mute and fearful. What the fuck was that supposed to mean? He had no idea how to respond. An extra brilliant flash appeared at the high barred window. He glanced up, on edge. A couple of seconds at most, then a sharp crack of thunder. Rain suddenly began to hammer down outside, a barrage of noise.
He returned his worried gaze to his dad, only to find the man grinning mockingly at him all of a sudden, like someone had flicked a switch.
Jack eyed him suspiciously. 'Course I int.'
The moment hung suspended as the cacophony of rain moved up a level. The two stared each other out, one wearing an almost malicious grin, one an adolescent scowl. Another bright flash and almost instantaneous whipcrack of thunder, the light flickering once more. Jack jumped slightly, glancing up again at the window, cursing himself for being unnerved. His dad was gonna rip the piss outta him. Sike laughed.
'I'll hold yer hand if it helps.'
'Fuck right off, I ain't fuckin afraid of a storm.'
'Yeah, right...' Sike was still grinning evilly, provoking Jack into defending himself. The lad finally relented, breaking out into a demented grin of his own. Alcohol and adrenaline pushed his inhibitions aside.
'I'll fuckin show you who's got the fear.'
He bounded up from the chair and shoved the man hard in the chest. Sike laughed again. Jack shoved again, harder still, so much so that Sike fell backward on the bed, but this only made the man laugh more.
'Come on then, you wanna have a fight about it? Yeah?' Jack bounced lightly on his feet like a boxer, ready for action, drunkenly aware that this was the almost exact reverse of what had happened this morning. Kinda funny. The alcohol blunted his senses, making him feel braver than normal. Sike was up on his elbows now, his angry mood temporarily vanquished. The kid wanted to play. Sweet.
Jack gestured at his dad to get up and face him. 'Come on, big guy, show us what you're made of.'
Sike, mightily amused, realised the parallel with the morning's events too. I'll show you what I'm fuckin made of, son. Just you wait. He got up slowly, placing his cards down as he did, and stood before Jack, casually rubbing his bristly chin with a meaty hand. 'Really?'
Another flash, another whipcrack and boom, the sound echoing through the building.
'Yeah, come on dad. Give it to me.' The lad's mood had jack-knifed from despondency to exhilaration. He'd got the reaction he'd been craving. Sike laughed again. Oh, I'll be fuckin givin it to yer alright. Don't you worry.
'Right then. You fuckin asked for it.' In one swift movement he lunged and grabbed the surprised boy at the waist, hoisting him high into the air and over his shoulder, the bulging muscled right arm holding the smooth body firmly in position. That'll teach yer.
'Oi. That's fuckin cheatin that is.' Pain partially anesthetized in the heat of the moment, the lad thumped hard at the top of his dad's tree-trunk legs with his good arm and tried to knee him at the same time, to no avail. The man's grip had him well secured.
'Sez who?' Sike was enjoying himself now, suppressed anger morphing seamlessly into horseplay. He paced around the cell a bit as Jack struggled in vain. 'S'not cheatin. I'm just bigger n stronger. Fact.'
'Fuckin put me down.'
A little taunting never did no harm, thought Sike. 'What's the magic word?'
Cheeky fucker. He whacked the lad's rear hard with his free hand. Flash. Boom.
Jack yelped in hurt surprise. 'Aghhh. What the fuck was that for?'
'You bein a mouthy cunt.'
'You will be.' Sike was still grinning broadly, not that Jack could see of course.
'Please? Please dad.'
Sike paused. 'OK' He carefully dropped the human load from shoulder to bed, the boy landing flat on his back with a fair thump.
'Ow.' Jack, face red from the blood rush, grimaced briefly at the inevitable pain in his arm, then laughed, adrenaline high. He could see his dad standing above him, tattooed arms folded, clearly in better spirits now. Result. 'Alright, you win.'
'Now there's a fuckin surprise.'
'Hey, you two, keep the noise down'. An unfamiliar voice at the door grill, to Jack at least.
Sike knew exactly who it was: one of his main men. No problem. He addressed the unseen officer. 'Kid's takin liberties... 'm just puttin im in his place. Not exactly quiet tonight tho, eh?' On cue, another flash and slightly delayed rumble, the rain continuing to bucket down outside. A vertical flood.
'Yeah, well, it's lights out in ten all the same.'
Sike looked back at the lad, lolling out on his dad's bed like he owned it, eyeing him cockily, good arm stretched back behind his head, a smooth skin line from elbow to hip, broken only by a small burst of dark armpit hair. You after somethin, son? Wanna sleep there, do yer?
'Come on, let's finish this fuckin game off shall we?' He gestured at the table, sat himself down in the chair and swapped the hands around on the table.
'Sure thing, dad.'
Jack sat up on his dad's bed, knocked back the rest of his cup. Sweet intoxication. Thunder reverberated in the heavy night air. It wasn't very long before Sike won once more, the run of luck firmly on his side for the night. The victor shoved the table to one side and reclined, hands behind head, legs spread wide, displaying his confident manliness for the lad to admire. Two can fuckin play that game, son.
'Not your lucky day is it.'
'I dunno... S'not over yet.'
Jack stared back at the topless tough guy, daring him into action, his eyes tracing out the menacing curve of the tattooed biceps. His reckless heart was pounding; butterflies shivering in his gut. Dark eyes glinted and locked on his, obvious sexual superiority trampling over his natural instincts. No escapin it, Jack. You know what's comin.
The man coolly assessed the lad's anticipation, sexy brutal thoughts playing tug of war with his self-control. The downpour hammered away at the roof outside. 'You remember what I said this morning?'
Only too well, thought the teenager. Fuck yeah. It was gonna happen all over again, just like he'd been promised. He wet his lips. Unable to fight the urge, his eyes dropped down the solid fuzzy tank of a torso to the man's scruffy jeans where the beast lay in wait for him. Your dad's a real fuckin hard-nut, Jack. You do what he says... The headfuck of the early morning came rushing back unbidden: the highwire between dream and nightmare, bull-dick domination, lust into violence into surrender. He swallowed nervously, before looking back up again. He nodded eagerly, more bravado than conviction.
Sike nodded back slowly and wordlessly, the sight of a straight lad eyeing his dad's crotch with trepidation giving him a nasty buzz. He loved being in such complete control. Perhaps a bit more mindfucking was in order... Yeahhh. He narrowed his eyes and felt the electricity of enforced lust crackle in the air between them even as the sky outside once more split with light and the thunderous soundwave followed. His meat twitched. Restless.
'You wanna feel yer daddy's big straight dick slidin up there again, don'tcha?' A dry swallow and a heartstopped nod from his son. 'Get fucked like some sexy bitch... Gonna make yer old man happy? Hmm?' Jack savoured the seductive effect of his dad's dirty talk, his young mind tormented by what he did and didn't want. Prison rules... Power rules... Gotta tell him how much you want it, Jack, remember? That was what you agreed to do. He said what he knew he must.
'Yeahhhh. Been waitin for it all fuckin week, dad...'
Sike nodded again, his predator gaze pinning the teenager firmly in place. 'I know.' His deep voice spoke the truth: he knew what Jack really needed.
'Five minutes, lights out.' Barked orders battled the din of the storm. Darkness approached.
The man stood up. 'LIke last time. 15 minutes, yeah?'
Jack nodded up at him. 'Gotcha.'
He watched the man quickly sort the room out, enthralled by the assured muscularity of him, the animal vitality. All too fuckin real. He removed his trainers, socks and jeans, becoming aware that his dad was now sat across the cell, observing him. Jack had on some plain black briefs he'd changed into that afternoon after his nap; he'd felt dirty after taking the officers' abuse and these were all he had left that were clean. Preferred boxers as a rule, but laundry wasn't til early next week.
'Leave em on.'
Sike liked the dark sleekness of them, set against the lad's pale skin. They seemed to accentuate his youthfulness somehow. Jack nodded, watching the man hunker down to undo his chunky boots. He waited for instruction.
The shaven-headed hulk looked up at him again, expression deadly serious. The uncharacteristic burst of horseplay a short while back had given him a glimpse of something he couldn't totally deal with yet, and his mind had instinctively gone on the counter-attack, as with any threat. Easy, familiar aggression coursed through his veins, feeding his will to dominate. He jabbed a finger.
The young man, excited but fearful, did as he was told. He wanted to see his dad fully naked, but realised he was being made to wait for some reason. Don't ask questions, Jack. Do as yer told. He could feel the thud in his chest and the haze in his bloodstream as he stared at the blank grey ceiling. Thunder rumbled again, becoming more distant now; the torrential rain subsiding slightly to a less insistent roar.
In the sudden darkness that ensued, Jack pictured the scene as if stood observing from one side: the fierce imposing figure in the red light, chunky hands gripping his son's tense shoulders, hard shaft sliding in where it belonged, showing his lad how it was done, teaching him the nature of endurance. Twisted perfection. Young meat pulsed expectantly. He lightly stroked it through the fabric. A more distant flash lit everything for an instant. He could smell his dad's presence in the cage.
The man lay in the dark, thinking, angry with himself for feeling things he shouldn't. Get a fuckin grip, man... Nothin fuckin complicated bout it, is there? You're toughenin him up. Makin him like you. What he needs. What you need. Course you're gonna care about him, and so you fuckin should. What'd be the fuckin point if you didn't? You're not goin soft. No-one's as tough a fucker as you, everyone knows that. Phil's gonna fuckin regret messin with you again.
He thought about the porn, how he'd come to rely on it banged up in this place. Thought about how many years it had been since he'd last fucked a woman, the one who'd betrayed his trust... As always happened when he strayed anywhere near the topic, his mind saw red. They were all the same, deep down: lying, scheming bitches, always demanding stuff you couldn't give. No one was gonna tell him what he should and shouldn't do. Ever. The lad knew the score: knew how to do what he was told, knew how to let his strong dad dominate him good n proper, knew the way things oughta be... Knew how to work his old man's thick meat... The man grinned into the near darkness. Yeahhhh. Fucked up, for sure, but then so was life, full stop. Fuck what anyone else thinks. Make the best o what yer got, eh? He waited.
Time crawled, summer incarnate. Brief chaotic illuminations lit the cell, becoming less intense. Finally, Jack heard the quiet but definite command to get up. His eyes flicked open to see the expected red glow from across the cell gently filling the room. Just like before, the man had covered the small lamp on the table with something. He swung himself onto his feet in an instant. Reporting for duty, sir. He marched over.
Sike stood before his lad, fearsome arms folded, all muscle and shadow, eyes dark, hefty jaw set, bristled face inscrutable, down below his substantial tackle ready to be awakened. He eyed the youth with severe approval: the dark buzz cut hair, well-proportioned face, slightly cocky expression, eyes betraying his nerves, pure smooth skin down his torso, lean young muscles developing well, the narrow waist halved by a trail of dark hair leading down from his bellybutton, those dark tight briefs. Mmmmm. I'm gonna make a fuckin man of you, kiddo, but you're always gonna answer to ME...
Almost imperceptibly, he made a terse nod of his head and glance downward, an indication to Jack to get to the floor. The lad lowered himself down in a daze. Every time like the first time. The hunger to submit to his thug of a dad overpowering his natural inclinations, making what should be wrong into something impossibly right. He sat on the cell floor, one leg bent double underneath, the other bent in front of him, his forearm resting on it. Snaking meat dangled teasingly before him, heavy nutsack lurking behind, framed by dark fuzz and solid hairy legs. Fuck. This is what you need, Jack. What you need is what you want...
The man gazed down at his son, proud ego soaking up the lad's admiration. 'You wanted to know what I was thinkin earlier, dintcha?' The lad numbly nodded in reply, still transfixed by his fate. 'Right. Well, I was thinkin about how to get Phil off yer back without necessarily breaking every fuckin bone in his body. But... I was also thinkin about how you and me need to take this to the next level: this is a fuckin journey we're on, son. Think you deserve a dad like me? Hmmm?'
Racing heart. A shiver up the spine. 'I... Yeah... I think so.'
The thrum of rain.
'You do, do yer? OK. So what are you thinkin then? Right now. Answer me.'
Jack cast his eyes up over the aggressively intimidating figure. Another distant flash illuminated them both for a second. He felt small and vulnerable, the sheer size of the man seeming more deadly than usual in the unreal half-light, the cold stare drilling holes in him... The next level? What did that mean? What the fuck did he want to hear? Could he just tell the truth? Would that be enough? He could feel the accelerated thud from within. Thunder, everywhere. Unable to bear the pressure, he let his eyeline drop back down. The fat juicy snake was right there in front of him. So close.
'What am I thinkin?...' Find the fuckin words, Jack. Just tell it how it is. 'I'm thinkin... I shouldn't want this. I really shouldn't. But... Yer know what? I fuckin do.' He gave a sudden sharp exhale of breath and a half-smile of disbelief that he'd actually stated it so boldly. Say it again, Jack. 'I fuckin do. Even though I'm fuckin straight, I still fuckin do. You know I ain't no fuckin homo, dad...'
'Yeah, I know that son. Carry on.' Sike unfolded his crushing arms and let them hang by his sides, eyeing his lad with intrusive curiosity, arousal starting to unfold.
'What you gotta understand is... I ain't had no dad in my life for years. Not since I was small.' Jack had never admitted this to the man before. 'Always hoped he'd come back. Do stuff with me. Show me the ropes.' He stared in awe at his long-lost father's prick as it began to stir and grow. Yeah. Oh yeahhhh... Just look at that, Jack. Dad's gettin it ready for yer.
Sike felt a bullet of pure emotion pierce him as the lad's words sunk in. You fuckin what? He blinked and absent-mindedly clenched a fist. Blood surged. Fuckin unbelievable. That was too fuckin perfect for words. He breathed heavily in and out, nostrils flaring, suddenly moved to rub the lad's short dark hair in genuine surprise and affection.
'Is that right? Well... He's here now. Yer dad's here.'
Jack relaxed a little at the man's rough reassuring touch, and gently nodded, with another half-smile of sheer amazement. Yeah, he's here. That was the simple truth, right there. He stared in dreamy submission at his dad's manhood as it came to life in the red gloom, the dark shiny head emerging, the thick veiny shaft lifting toward him, inexorably swelling and lengthening to its glorious prime. Sexy threat and promise merged into one: straight motherfuckin bull-dick, under the tough guy's total command, inches away... He licked his lips, the intimidating close-up of rising male arousal sending a fearful thrill of taboo pleasure sliding up his spine. Gonna do yer duty, intcha Jack? Gonna do what he tells yer...
'Yeahhhh, fuckin get an eyeful o that. That's the real fuckin deal.' Jack hardly realised he'd spoken his thoughts aloud
The deep voice confirmed it for him. 'Yeah. It's the real fuckin deal, alright: it's yer dad's motherfuckin meat, son. Yer mouth was fuckin made for it.' An eager nod from below. 'Imagine how fuckin good it's gonna feel later... Gonna do yer like a real sexy bitch. You're gonna fuckin love it.'
'Yeahhh...' Jack's vivid imagination needed no prompting. The early morning vision of torture had him by the nuts again, the victorious bull ready to inflict it's size and power. Resistance futile. Penetration imminent.
'Bet you been thinkin bout it every day this week, huh? When's the old man gonna fuckin bone me again...' Sike was taking immense delight in his horny build-up and the sweet, dazed look of surrender on the young man's face.
Jack, inspired by his dad's proud display of strength and graphic promises, felt the emotional rollercoaster of the day coming to a weirdly beautiful high, soothing his troubled mind. He wanted to admit all his dark horny thoughts to his dad now.
'Fuck yeahhhh. Can't wait. Made for fuckin action, innit?' (Ain't that the fuckin truth, Jack...) 'Way I see it, dad, straight blokes with big dicks deserve to get em seen to, don't they?' He looked up briefly for agreement and Sike grunted deeply, seriously turned on now by the undeniable logic of everything his lad was saying and what they were doing. 'Only right n proper, yeah? And if there ain't no pussy around. Well... Any lad with a hard fuckin dad like you should know the score. Don't matter if he's fuckin straight. So fuckin what? Should just be fuckin grateful... Like I am.'
Sike nodded his slo-mo approval. Jack paused. Being made to articulate the raging conflict in his mind was strangely liberating, but at the same time he knew that once these words were out, they couldn't be unsaid. Reckless speeding into unknown territory. He looked up once more to the man's fierce features, the thick scarred neck, the hefty bristled jawline, the shaved head, the dark watchful eyes: his violent unpredictable dad... He could wipe you out in a fuckin instant, Jack.
'And I'm gonna keep doin it for yer, dad. Every day, just like you said. That's a fuckin promise.'
Again, the man roughly rubbed the lad's short hair as the teenager's passionate gaze locked with his; a wild animal tamed. Their pact was now stronger than ever, Sike felt sure. Look at him... Smooth cute face silently urging his father to show him some true authority, to pack his gob full. Yeahhhhhhh... That was what this was all about. Sexy, aggressive control. We're hittin the road to pure fuckin heaven, lad. I'm gonna make you want it so bad...
'Yeahhhh. You know the score, son. You know the fuckin score. I'm well proud o yer.' Sike saw the relieved grin below and matched it with a sly one of his own. 'How about you take another good hard look at yer old man's tackle before we hit the road, hmmm?'
A breathless nod from the teenager. Jack sensed how his dad was teasing him by drawing the moment out, felt the wire of tension tighten. Nervous excitement hammered in his skull. He obediently lowered his gaze back down the muscled torso to where the tapering trail of fuzz led down the man's firm stomach. Down. Down to where... Stiff young meat filled his briefs with proof of his acquiescence. No escape. He absent-mindedly stroked it through the fabric and felt the good sensations spread out from his groin. Fuck yeah.
Sike confidently compared the size of his meaty weapon to his son's mouth, remembering the desperate look on the lad's face the first time he'd forced it in real deep, even though the lad had quickly shown a natural ability to deepthroat his dad's full length. Apart from this morning, of course... Hmmm. Still had some learnin to do. A further surge of blood and his aroused meat twitched in response. He remembered how tight that pussy hole was gonna be. Fuckin ace. He loved the feeling of giving some bitch more than she could handle. Fuckin loved that. Takin em to the edge...
'Fuckin massive, innit? You love getting yer gob round that motherfucker, don'tcha?'
'You said it yerself, straight blokes with big dicks need to get em seen to. What it's all about, innit?'
The lad stared in a hypnotized horny trance at the virile member, ready for pleasuring, potent symbol of his dad's rightful dominance. His straight instincts slammed into the floor of the ring, defeated all over again by the simple force of the man's masculine superiority. Reality check, Jack: you know exactly where this is goin, don'tcha? That thing's gonna fuck you. Hard. You know he likes it rough. He remembered the previous time and a bolt of fearful lust shot through him... Gonna fuckin hurt, you know it will. And you gotta tell him how much you love it, yeah? Why the fuck do you want this? You're fuckin insane... Yeah, so I am. Fuckin insane. SO FUCKIN WHAT?
The man caught a glimpse of the turmoil in the lad's eyes. He spoke softly and seductively. 'Nothin complicated bout it, son... You're doin it for me. Doin it for yer dad.'
Jack pushed his unwanted confusion aside and nodded. 'Makes perfect sense, dunnit. You're the fuckin man.' The truth, and nothing but the truth...
'Go on then, son. Start workin that meat. Let's get some fuckin action goin.'
Permission at last. Jack shifted his weight slightly and leant forward, the sexual magnetism of the forbidden drawing him in, his dad's raging arousal dimly illuminated. His eyes were wide open to bear witness once again to the terrifyingly profound act, his lips already parted in anticipation.
Sike let the lad take his time. They were in no rush. The stormy summer night was theirs for the taking. The lad's well-practised lips enclosed the waiting prick head and an eager young tongue began working instinctive magic on ultra-sensitive skin. The muscleman let out a deep groan of grateful release. The warm mouth slowly enveloped more of his engorged sex, skillfully performing its necessary duty.
'Oh yeahhhh. You're gettin better n better, son. I fuckin swear you are. Feels sooooo fuckin nice...'
Jack moaned in horny contentment at the strong man's approval. He felt certain that every straight lad with a proper tough dad must have this shadowy fantasy buried deep within them, and here he was living that unspeakable dream. He took the mighty beast further in, feeling the serious weight of it there in his mouth for a moment. Slowly, he began to start up a smooth steady rhythm. Out and in, out and in, out and in... Hypnotic.
'Mmmmm. You can fuckin keep on doin that, kiddo.'
A sudden undeniable hint of nutjuice sent the lad's tastebuds wild and saliva flowing freely. He reached up and caressed the dangling hairy sack, knowing exactly where the tasty stuff was made. But he wouldn't be getting a load pumped into his gob tonight... Oh no. The big guy gave another deep groan of sexual pleasure, and Jack felt a shiver of passion at the sound. He knew how to do it right for his dad. Seemed to come naturally to him. His fate.
'Just you and me now, son. Always knew I'd find yer. I've waited fuckin years too, y'know.'
The man's gruff voice rumbled in Jack's skull: yer dad's been waiting for yer too. All this time. Fuckin amazin. He grinned madly inside himself, the knot of confusion unravelling further. This isn't roleplay any more; this is reality. He really IS yer dad, Jack. Believe it.
'But I'm gonna fuckin look after yer from now on. Y'hear me, son? You're fuckin MINE.'
The lad's stretched lips clamped tight as he kept up his slick action, the man beginning to gently thrust his groin in time. Jack felt his whole body tuning in to the sexy sensuous motion, the two of them synchronized perfectly. He gazed ahead in wonder, his vision filled with wiry fuzz, rugged masculinity and unstoppable muscle, the animal heat swamping his face, breathing in the scent of his dad's crotch sweat, pungently familiar and essential.
Sike again rubbed the lad's short dark hair vigorously, domination firing him up. He watched the youth's soft lips working back and forth as he thrust in time, thick mature tool stretching his son's mouth into a wide O. Just like that porn pic his boy had homed in on the very first night... Yeahhhh. You knew what was in store, dintcha? Pure sexy violation. His meaty hand moved to the back of the lad's head and he began to take the control he required.
'Yeah, yer dad's a proper hard fucker, son. You know the fuckin score, don'tcha? Big motherfuckin dick's gonna sort you out. That's what you fuckin need.'
Jack felt the shift and moaned in submissive acknowledgement. Fuck yeahhhhh. This was where he truly belonged: at his well-hard dad's feet getting his gob fucked. Like a fuckin bitch. Who'da fuckin thought it? Prison was the best fuckin thing that had ever happened to him... He felt his head locked into position and the pace stepping up a gear. He sucked for all he was worth as the sexual assault on his mouth increased in pace. One hand again caressed his dad's nuts and the area around, the other rubbing again at the hardness in his briefs. Yeahhh. Oh yeahhh. Fuckin give it to me, dad.
Sike was breathing heavily now, the perfection of the moment making him almost close his eyes as waves of intense pleasure rippled out from his groin. With his free hand, he gripped his own bulging right pec and squeezed the muscle hard, before running the hand down and up his torso firmly and repeatedly. Fuckin nice. The lad was fondling his nuts in just the right way: he obviously wanted more of em. He released his grip on the lad's head slightly and withdrew his slick meat, holding the mighty weapon up with his other hand.
'Fuckin lick them nuts, son. They fuckin made you.' He brought the lad's head firmly in to the source of his heat. Jack went for it, lapping repeatedly at the heavy hanging sack and the deep darkness around, buried himself between his dad's solid thighs, mind on a wild ride to beautiful oblivion. He tasted the heavy scent and sweat of the man, felt it covering his face, chewed gently at the balls which had so often unloaded into him, and would so many more times again. The man gave a deep groan of approval.
'You're fuckin firin me up, son. Makin yer dad feel real fuckin good intcha?'
Jack glanced up, nodding in earnest. 'Yeahhhhh. I'll do anythin you fuckin tell me to dad.'
Sike grinned at his conquest, the pleading look in his son's eyes turning him on still more. He brought his monster tool back down to target the lad's mouth. 'That's right. Anything I fuckin tell yer.'
The lad looked at the thick juicy prick he was bound to serve and opened his mouth in unquestioning acceptance. Anything. Fuck yeah. His dad resumed the horny facefuck, Jack's sweat-coated tongue working overtime to please the veiny cylinder as it demanded total satisfaction. The rhythm of it pounded in his head: a primitive drumbeat of male domination. Timeless. Relentless. Pleasing his tough-nut dad. Don't ever fuckin leave me again... Please... He pressed again at the bulge in his briefs, and gripped one of the man's rock solid legs with his other hand.
'Fuckin like that do yer?' A nod and a moan. 'Course you do. Yer dad's givin you what you always needed... Shame it took so fuckin long, huh?' Another vigorous, heartfelt nod. Sike looked at the cute straight youth through the dull-red gloom, the soft lips gladly receiving the ritual offering. Yeahhhh. You're really doin it for yer dad, kiddo... 'Let's fuckin step it up a gear, yeah? Come up ere.'
The man released his grip and his slick weapon slid out. Jack took one last close-up view of it before standing back up as instructed. One of his legs had gone a bit numb and he rubbed it quickly to get the circulation going again, then stood straight and proud before his dad. Another roll of distant thunder.
Sike regarded him in silence for a moment, the cute eyes locked on his. He wanted to try something and gestured for the lad to come closer still.
'Stick it between yer legs, son.'
The man spread his legs and bent his knees a little to get the right height. Jack, excited by this new development, did as he was told, placing his slightly trembling hands on the man's fuzzy chest, kneading into the tough muscle like he so often wanted to do. The thick veiny tackle slid between his thighs under the dark briefs, rubbing gently against the tender underside there, smoothly back and forth. Fuckin sweet sensations. He felt his hole aching to be filled by it.
'Fuckin look at that son. Looks like you've got a pussy and I'm fuckin it, don't it?'
Jack looked down. Deep red shadows played with the image, turning it around and around in his mind, making it seem just like his dad said. A seriously hung dick sliding into a smooth dark pussy. Slivers of straight porn fantasies from the magazines danced around his skull, the impossible made real, him getting fucked. His hushed reply betrayed his awe. 'Yeahhh. Fuckin does.' He gripped the man's pecs harder. Sike spat copiously into his hand and spread the spit over his dick, Jack watched the tattooed arm at work for a moment and then looked back into his dad's serious face as the psychological fuck continued. The lad instinctively squeezed the man's hardness between his legs, feeling the powerful crotch being pushed into his. So. Fuckin. Hot.
'You like the feel of that, son?' The lad nodded, eyes wide in the red gloom. 'You wanna get fucked for real?''
'Yeah, please dad. So fuckin horny now. S'what I fuckin need.'
Sike gave a mean half grin and nodded back. 'That's my boy.' He stroked the lad's cute face, rough skin on smooth. Close range. Jack's mouth hung lightly open with gnawing desire as he felt the touch and stared deep into the man's dark eyes. The man pushed a finger in up to the gnarly knuckle and Jack sucked and chewed on it. Another finger went in.
'Anything else you wanna fuckin chew on?' Jack moaned, mouth full. 'What?' The man removed his fingers to let him speak.
'Let me show yer dad...'
Sike pushed his groin in hard and held it there pressed up against the lad's concealed stiffness. Jack slipped his arms around the man's chunky frame and let his forehead fall on his dad's shoulder, the man's tough muscle against him, strong arms wrapping around his body, one of em sexily stroking his back. He squeezed the hot hard weapon between his legs, totally lost for words; began to urgently chew on the man's muscled shoulder. The man grunted and leaned back slightly to indulge his son for a moment, watching him intently.
Jack worked his way quickly down the shadowed side of the man to work on the bulging curve of his upper left arm. He tested the powerful muscle there between his teeth. Fuckin good stuff; he'd wanted to do this so many times. A firm hand took the back of his head and pressed it in.
'Yeah, you like that? Like a bit o muscle in yer gob?' The lad moaned in affirmation.
'If it's fuckin muscle you want to chew on, how about some of this?' The man forcefully moved the lad's head to his chest, his prick swinging free again as he moved back. He really can read my fuckin mind, thought Jack, gratefully sinking his teeth into the solid hairy mound. His tongue found the man's nipple and lapped at it, savouring the man's obvious arousal. He chewed softly at it. Sparks flew in Sike's head and he groaned.
'Yeahhhh, fuckin chew on that, son. Feels reeeeeal nice.'
Jack reached down to find the beefy man's monstrous weapon as he worked, knowing he shouldn't leave that unattended. His hand grasped it - like a fuckin thick iron bar it was - and slid the foreskin gently up and down. It pulsed in his hand as he continued to stroke it. The horny teenager knew the fuck had to be gettin close now.
'And the other one, son.'
'Yeahhh. Anything you say, dad.'
Sike continued to watch, the bad desire charging through his veins. The eager lad was chewing away on his dad's muscle like there was no tomorrow. But of course there fuckin would be, and they'd fuckin do this again. And again. And again. He lifted his boy's head up sharply to look at him.
'Right, enough o that. Yer old man's big dick ain't gonna wait any longer. I'm gonna fuckin do yer.' He let go, and Jack stood up straight, letting go of the man's massive shaft and staring down at it expectantly, nodding slowly as if to help convince himself that this was what every straight lad secretly wanted: their thug dad's monster dick sliding inside them. Yeahhh. Here we fuckin go.
'Fuck yeah. This is gonna be fuckin amazin, dad.' He sounded more confident than he was, especially as his hole had already been invaded once today and was bound to be a little tender. A flash of recollection sent a shiver up his spine. The married officer sliding in his smooth long prick. Yeah, do me like yer do yer missus... Being slammed into the desk. Fuck. That should never have happened. He tried to blank the memory and looked up again into his dad's face. A serious stare greeted him.
'We're gonna do it standin. Lean over the bed.' The man reached across for his bottle of massage oil as the lad assumed position. Smooth youthful vulnerability in the shadow of his criminal dad. Prison domination. He grinned with an all-conquering lust, swiftly oiling his raging tool then pulling the lad's briefs down a little and applying some to the waiting hole, gently pushing into the tight ring of muscle with a searching finger.
'Oh fuck.' Jack bit his lip and leaned further forward, placing his fists on the bed, feeling a twinge from his injured shoulder and the oiled finger opening him up. This was gonna be intense.
'Yeahhhh. Gonna fuckin loosen you up real good son. Remember what I said this morning?'
'Don't fuckin forget.'
Two fingers now worked the lad's hole, preparing it for the beast to follow. Sike didn't care if it was fuckin dirty, it was gonna feel sooooo fuckin good. Nice tight fuckin hole for his motherfuckin dick to fill. He removed his fingers and brought the shiny head of his shaft into position. He nudged, testing the resistance.
Jack closed his eyes, the striking image he'd pictured in the darkness earlier - dad and son engaged in a masterful fuck - was about to happen. He moaned in a horned-up trance as the slick torpedo of male desire pressed again, this time more insistently. He swallowed his nerves and pushed back into it, grinding his rear a little, sexily encouraging the man to penetrate him. Sike liked this a lot and let out a low growl.
'Oh yeahhhhhh. You fuckin want it up there, don'tcha son?'
'Yeah. Fuckin do.'
'Well here it fuckin comes.'
The man gripped the lad's waist, steadying him for the onslaught. The fat head of his prick began its irresistible push and the lad pushed back on it again, inviting the man to take full possession. Oh yeah. Oh yeahhhh. I fuckin love you dad. And then Jack felt the man enter him... He froze, mouth dumbly agape, eyes wide. Fuck. Fuuuuuuck. He let out a small strangled cry.
Sike was in fuckin heaven, his delayed satisfaction making it all the sweeter. Yeeeeeeahhhhhhhhhhh. He gave another deep growl of pleasure at the amazing sensation, and the hot, hot sight of his manly thickness forcing itself in between those tight white cheeks.
'There you fuckin go, son. There you fuckin go... How does that feel?'
Jack felt his head swim. His body was almost starting to accept the idea of being taken like this, but it still felt fuckin extreme. His mind reeled with thoughts and fantasies, colliding with one another in a chain reaction of tumbling horny confusion. His dad, the bull. The terror of the matador. The woman in the porn fantasy arching with delight... He rubbed at the hard meat in his briefs.
'Ugghhh. It's good dad. It's what I... Ughhhhhh... Fuckin need.'
He looked round on the side of the light to see what he could. The man's tree trunk leg bent slightly and touching his, higher up a densely tattooed arm holding him in place. Crushing muscle and masculine authority being exercised in the warm red glow. He felt his dad starting up a gentle rhythm, workin the fuckin beast steadily inside, bit by bit, inch by inch. He continued to grind back on it a little, sensing that the man liked this, and that somehow it would help him take it better. Show him how much you want it, Jack...
'You been waitin for this all week, intcha? Yer dad's motherfuckin meat workin yer like one of them porn bitches.'
An eager nod of affirmation. 'Yeah. I can fuckin take it just as good for yer, dad.'
Sike drove deeper still. Three quarters in now. He heard another sharp intake of breath from the lad and grinned nastily.
'Well, we'll just have to test that out, won't we?'
Jack clenched his jaw tight in anticipation and pushed back again, determined to do his duty properly. His mind wanted this so fuckin much, probably more than he had ever lusted after anything before: wanted to have that straight meat filling him, to accept his tough-nut dad's brutal passion. He'd fuckin take it good. Had to or else...
'Get it right in there dad. Wanna fuckin feel it all.'
Sike obliged with a firm insistent push, the full nine inches. Jack gasped again in shock.
'Ughhh. Ughhhhh. Yeahhhh. Like that.'
Sike regarded the powerful porn scene before him, the cocky straight lad completely submitting to his bad dad's twisted need for satisfaction. His substitute bitch. Fuck yeah. He was the fuckin man around here. No one fuckin doubted it.
'Stand up for me.'
Jack carefully raised himself to stand, fully impaled. He felt the press of his dad's body against him from head to foot, the man's muscular arms wrapping themselves around him, the hot meat gently pushing part way in and out, a slow deliberate action. The gruff voice spoke quietly in his ear.
'What was it you fuckin said? You ain't had no dad for years?'
Jack tensed. 'Yeah. Long, long time.' The knife in his heart twisted suddenly.
'Ever thought he'd come back?'
The lad paused for thought. He'd stopped believing her in the end. Useless promises.
'Fuckin wanted him to, but... '
'But no fuckin way?'
The rain drummed on and ever on; the world turned.
'Nope.' Jack's jaw was tight with emotion.
'And that's why you want this chance so much, even though you're straight.'
It wasn't really a question. Sike continued his slow, deliberate thrusting, the wiry fuzz of his muscled groin sensuously pressing into the lad's welcoming rear. The revelations of the night had set cogs whirring in his frustrated lust-crazed head, overcoming his normal suspicious defences. He was starting to realise that what he'd initiated for his simple gratification was becoming something much deeper, for both of em. The kid was fuckin special. He was gonna fuckin show him how special he was. He was gonna be the best fuckin dad in the world...
Jack remembered his confession, made as he'd sat transfixed by the awesome sight of his dad's thick veiny snake slowly coming to life in front of his face, rising up to be serviced. It reminded him, as if he should need it, of the significance of this fuck compared to the callously abusive one he'd endured earlier in the day. This was the real fuckin deal.
'Yeah. I know I shouldn't want this, but I just fuckin do.' The lad paused, feeling the strong embrace and the press of the wide muscular chest into his back. He stroked the hardness in his briefs. His real dad... 'Yeah, I fuckin do alright. Don't fuckin understand it tho.'
Sike hugged the lad tighter still. 'Oh I do. I understand what you need son. You need a good strong dad. One who don't take no shit from anyone. One who'll do stuff with yer. And you've fuckin got him now, haven't yer?' An eager nod in response. 'Tell yer somethin else, you fuckin got him for life...'
Jack tensed. The low words in his ear feeding him as surely as the man's engorged sex unloading seed on to his eager tongue. 'Yeah?'
'You fuckin better believe it. One day when we're both outta here, I'm still gonna look after yer, just like I'm doin now. It's like I told yer right from the start: I'm gonna fuckin own you. You're fuckin mine.'
Jack felt the massive arms around him, protecting him, the press of his dad's bristly face rubbing against the side of his neck and the deep insistence of his sexy weapon. The words circled round and round his head. He dared to smile at what the distant future held.
'Fuckin hell dad... D'you... D'you really mean it?'
'Course I fuckin mean it. I don't say stuff I don't mean, son.'
Jack felt the force of the man's promise and his heart exploded with emotion on top of the fierce pounding lust. Complete reality shift. When had he ever felt this good? Maybe there was a point to life after all...
'You're the fuckin best, dad.'
'I know. And now I'm gonna fuckin show you why.'
Jack felt the desire rush within him; the overwhelming need to give his dad the total satisfaction he deserved. 'Fuck yeahhhh. Show me.'
At that, the man began to reaffirm his rightful authority, his meaty thickness starting to make longer strokes, building momentum. He let the lad lean forward again to take it better, but continued to hold him at the shoulders, partially upright. Jack, head still buzzing with his dad's words, arched more by pushing back once again with his behind, feeling it being seriously ploughed now for the man's aggressive pleasure.
'Nnnnnnghh. That's the way I like it, dad. Yeahh.'
He could see the explicit image again in his head: well-muscled dad intimately bonding with his son, showin him how it should be done, might makin right... Fuck yeahhhh. He reached back to feel the side of the muscular body that was driving its raw masculinity into him and moaned in horny abandon, his other hand lifting his own meat out of his briefs to wank himself properly. His well-hard dad was fucking him like some sexy bitch... Filling him... Filling him with brutal intensity... So... Fuckin... Amazin...
'Yeah, you said it yerself son... Straight blokes with big dicks deserve to get em seen to. You know the fuckin score. I'm doin your pussyhole good n proper.'
'Nnnghhh. Fuck. Yeahhhh. Feels so. Nngh. Fuckin good.' Jack was breathing hard and fast now. His dad was a hard fucker alright: massive meat driving in again and again, owning his hole. An invasion of rough male virility, testing his levels of endurance to the limit. His body jolted with every thrust.
Sike felt the sweat trickle down his face as he went to work on the lad's tender backside. Yeahhhh. He was a fuckin machine. His son's smooth back was arched in ecstasy between the grip of his rough hands and the thick mature shaft below doing what it did best. Sexy forced submission. Loosenin that hole up real good. Drivin him to the edge.
'Mmmmmm yeahhhh. Feel this motherfucker workin yer tight hole. You're fuckin takin it good now, intcha? '
'Fuckin right. Fuckin am. Nghhh.'
Jack felt the fire in his hole growing, but the feeling from his own aching dick transformed it into a burning desire that only his dad's king-sized meat could ever satisfy. He stretched his neck to look round at the incredible sight, the monstrous muscled thug in the red gloom, outstretched tattooed arm holding his body in place, moody face in furious concentration. Fucking hell. A shiver ran through him, and his hand moved faster over his own hardness. Sike saw his son looking round, the horny desperation written across his disbelieving face. He growled at him.
'This is what it's all about, son. This is how straight blokes with big dicks give it to their bitches. S'what they fuckin love, innit? S'what you're fuckin gettin..'
'Yeah, I fuckin love it too dad. Fuckin do.'
'Course you do, son. I'm the fuckin best, int I?'
'Yeah, fuckin right. Nnngh. The fuckin best.'
The image lodged itself permanently into Jack's mind and he looked back in front to the dimly lit wall. He shut his eyes tight and concentrated solely on the feeling of dominant manhood slamming into him. His long-lost dad's hard shaft screwing his hole to perfection. So this is what you wanted, Jack. Yeah? Yeah. Fuckin is. It's what I need. And what I want... Me dad's fuckin givin it to me.
Sike sped on toward the finish line, a furious demon. His powerful lust was absolute, locked on target and readying to fire.
'Feel that kiddo. Feel yer daddy's motherfuckin prick. Takin it like a bitch, intcha?'
'Aghhh. Fuck yeah. Fuckin do me. Nnnngh.' Jack was submerged in his dad's virility, his straight instincts no match for the terrible beauty of what was being done to him. His hole was being drilled to a numb throb, the man's iron weapon plunging relentlessly on. Totally merciless. Driving male heat deep inside him.
'Yeahhhh. That's what you want, innit? Yer dad's big straight dick. Tell me how much you fuckin want it...'
Jack was in a state of trapped arousal and overwhelming physical pressure, prepared to say anything to please his tough-nut dad now.
'Oh I fuckin want it dad. Nggh. Want it real... Bad. Fuckin dream about... aghhh... yer big straight dick... ngh... every fuckin night, I do. You know I'm...hhnnghh... fuckin straight, dad. Fuckin am. Hnnngghh. But I fuckin love suckin it... uuughh... every day, gettin that... nnnngh... fuckin hot load in my gob. Nnngh. From my real dad.'
'Course you do, son. Fuckin tasty, innit?'
You're so fuckin... nnnghh... awesome... Uuuurrrgh. And then... Feelin you fuck me with it... nnghhhh... like I'm yer... hnnnggghhh... fuckin sexy bitch. Can't fuckin get enough... Please... Uuurrrghhh. Don't stop... I'll be a good boy... Nnnghh. Yeah. I'll... Argh... do what I'm told.
Sike grinned with grim satisfaction. Perfect. He had him on the edge now, he knew it.
'You got it. Doin it for yer dad, intcha? You're a good boy. Fuckin feel it right inside yer son.'
Jack's youthful face contorted in a state of pained ecstasy. Yeah. That big straight dick was inflicting the sweetest fuckin torture on him. Fuckin insane. Dad, please...
'Yeah. Nnnnngh. So good. So good. Nnngh. So fuckin good.'
'Gonna fuckin shoot in a minute.'
'Oh yeahhhh. Right up me dad. Ngh. Shoot it right... Up me.'
Jack's breaths were coming in quick sharp bursts now, his body fiercely jolted by the aggressiveness being channelled into his rear end. Then the thought of his dad's hot seed sent him completely over the edge. He teetered there for a moment, trying to comprehend what was happening, the huge hard torpedo of male sex pummelling his tender hole. Then the wonderful rush of ecstasy as his dick begin to spurt in his hand, scattering his cum on to his dad's bed. He moaned in unbridled delight.
'NNNNNNNNNGHHHHH. Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Yeahhhh. Want your fuckin load so much. Please dad. Fuckin shoot it.'
Sike felt the fury of his desire reaching a glorious climax. His son had done him fuckin proud. Eyes narrowed, grip tightened, he slammed in a last few fearsomely powerful strokes with his poised weapon, breathing fast and furious.
'Aggghh. Here it fuckin comes lad. Here it fuckin well comes.'
'Yeah dad. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Ngh.' Jack was frantic now, eager for his dad's nuts to unload inside him. He reached back again to feel the hard fuzzy muscle thumping against his body and pushed back one more time with his rear, back arching in the half-light. A slave to the rhythm pounding into him. Total submission to his dad's rightful dominance.
Sike could see his son showing him how much he wanted it. Sheer fuckin pleasure overload. His nutsack tightened. Fuck yeahhhhhhh. He looked down one more time at his brutal size sliding unstoppably between those sweet smooth cheeks. The aggressive perfection of it. Doin his son like a bitch. He buried the meat deep and held it there. Felt the breaking of the wave...
The violent release shook him to the core, and the cum shot out from the head of his buried tool. Jack heard the guttural cry and felt the pulsing within. He closed his eyes in amazement, his body shaking slightly. He knew what was happening: the man was giving him the load he'd craved. Claiming him for his very own... He heard his dad groan deeply with satisfaction.
'Nnnnnghhhh. Yeahhhhhhh. Fillin you up, son. I'm fillin you up...'
Jack, drunk and high on emotion, could barely speak. The feeling was so right. So fuckin right. The rest of life faded into insignificance. 'Oh yeah dad... Yeah.' The entire length was in there, his dad's meaty groin pressing into him, the massive motherfuckin dick possessing him, pumping out the juice. 'Fuckin. Incredible.'
Sike pulled the lad toward him, his mighty weapon still in deep. That was some fuck. Don't come much better. Jack stood unsteadily. He felt the muscular arms being wrapped around him, trapping his own arms and body in their strong embrace; felt the press of sweaty fuzz against his back. He looked down at the tattooed muscle holding him, dimly visible in the red shadow. He felt wanted.
'I'm the fuckin best, son. Dint I tell yer?'
'You're a fuckin pro, that's what you are.'
Sike gave a short, knowing chuckle and nuzzled into the side of the lad's neck with his bristly face.
'Yeah. I know what I'm fuckin doin, don't I?
'Fuck yeah. Anytime you want it dad, I'll be ready n waitin.'
Jack closed his eyes and savoured the moment. This was how it was always gonna be from now on, whatever other shit happened out there... The two of em together. His unavoidable fate to give pleasure to his dad's big straight motherfuckin dick whenever it was demanded of him; their secret arrangement. Nothin homo bout it, just might makin right... What life's about, innit? His mind revisited the image from earlier, the juicy dangling snake there before him in the hellish gloom, slowly expanding and lifting to target his awestruck face. Yeah dad. I'll be a good boy. Promise.
The aftermath of the storm faded into the night.
Outside the cell door, the figure stood silently watching through the grill, transfixed, hand in pocket gently squeezing good sensations from the head of the long hard prick hidden inside his uniform. He understood now. Forbidden knowledge, impossible to unlearn...