A man's work
The same cheap logo as before, the same intro jingle. Low-quality sounds of motorcycles and race cars played in the background while the screen showed an empty set. As the audio grew quieter, a clang of metal erupted and the cameras panned to the stage entrance. With a prance, Jaxon came into view.
"Hello, darlings! Missed me?" he shouted with a high-pitched voice.
Today, his outfit consisted of a latex checkered vest, black and white alternating, while his tight booty shorts left little to the imagination. All over his skin, oil and grease marks ran rampant. Though as the cameras zoomed it, it was clearly mascara.
"Oh, I've missed you all so much. After all, this work is so fun! But I'm not the only one having fun, right? No no, you all are here with me! Let's look just what you guys think. Our lovely team handpicked three responses to the last episode again!"
Gesturing to his side, an overlay appeared on the screen. The first comment showed up soon after. A user with a profile picture of a tree-trunk-sized dick came up first. Considering how wobbly the floor was all around the genital, it was clearly edited.
"This lovely commenter said: 'More. Came three times to this episode. Hope we can get some closeups of that pink boy hole.' Well isn't that lovely! I always appreciate a man who is to the point, but not this brief," Jaxon laughed, clapping twice.
His hand waved and the comment switched to a different one. This user chose the default avatar provided by the website, leaving little information about themselves.
"Ooh, a mystery person! And a long comment too! 'I don't think the two can go back to normal after this. Have you seen how Derek's ass yields to his daddy? And Frank would be stupid to pass up on free hole. If I was in their shoes, I would take the bag after the show and run away with it, fucking nonstop.' Well, isn't someone daring!" Jaxon covered his mouth performatively, gasping ever so loud. "Honey, if you're serious and you have a hot daddy, leave us a message. Maybe it can be arranged."
After winking at the camera following his suggestion, he waved the overlay away again. Now, instead of text, a still image was plastered on the screen.
"And now for a little video message! I think you all can see the pattern we'll be having in these intros, huh?" Jaxon laughed one more time as the video blew up to cover the whole screen.
The surroundings shown on the recording were quite dirty. A room with exposed brick walls, the orange only broken by grayish paste. Despite looking freshly made, it was already covered in a visible coat of dust. In the middle of this scene, a man was crouching.
His skin tanned - a tad bit more than Frank's - and his work uniform dirty... it looked very similar to Frank's. Noticeably, the focus of the camera was on his crotch, where his exposed mast of a dick pointed upwards, being stroked by his meaty paw. Despite his hands being large, his sausage fingers could barely wrap around the shaft.
"Fuck, hello..." he said in a half-groan, half-whisper. "I'm Frank's foreman. I've just given him paid leave for a week."
A moan escaped from his throat, his other hand coming to stroke too. Rough movements blurred on the thick pole of flesh, as his hairy ballsack bounced every time his hand pushed downwards. His breathing, clearly laborious, only got heavier.
"When my bud told me about this show, I thought he was joking. But watching the first episode, I got harder than my wife has made me in over fifteen years now," he stated matter-of-factly. "If I knew Frank's boy took it this well up his ass, I would've swooped him up instead. Fuck, I miss anal so bad."
Growing desperate, sweat trickled down his temples, tempo increasing. Soles scraped against the rough floor, rising slightly from the ground; his boots bending to the steel tips when he switched to supporting himself only on his toes.
"I can't even look at Frank, or I'll imagine him coming to work from a fresh fuck session. Or worse, holding that battering ram safe until he can get home and pound his son. Ooooh..." he closed his eyes. "I couldn't have him here. Even thinking about this shit makes me so pent up. Fuck, didn't know I could get all horned up thinking about men. Oh, what all I'd try with that young lad. Oh, fuuuu-"
The lower his voice became, the bigger the twitches in his cock. Not even a few seconds after and thick cum was shooting all over the screen, landing on the exposed floor and mixing with the building materials. Despite more than six long ropes of semen shooting out of his dick, his balls were still twitching, as if trying to force out anything they could - not wanting to let this moment end.
Bleary-eyed and sweat-drenched, the foreman leaned over to the camera and the recording ended abruptly. The last still perfectly showed a few last droplets hanging from the oversized, weeping cock head.
"Well, if that wasn't a stellar review, I don't know what was!" Jaxon chuckled, clasping his hands in front of his groin.
The camera started to zoom out, getting the full studio into perspective, with Jaxon but a tiny speck in its middle.
"And that's going to be it for today's introductions, friends! I hope you're ready to see our favorite pairing again! Without further ado - here we go!"
A typical montage of rapidly changing house shots appeared on the screen, before transitioning into Derek's bedroom. It looked identical to the episode before, of course with the distinct lack of sex. Up and down - the covers resting on his body moved with each of his labored breaths. Despite not opening a single eye, his eyebrows met in the middle under a creased forehead. They fused further into each other when banging resounded from the hallway.
Warm air exited his lungs through a frustrated exhale. With a single fluid motion, he tossed the sheets from himself and got onto his feet. As he stomped, sweaty slaps formed on the wooden floor beneath him. Yet his eyes were laser-focused, walk aimed at a single point.
"Do you have to be this loud?! People are trying to sleep," Derek yelled.
Switching views to the living room, Frank was front and center in the scene. Hammer in one hand, wooden remnants of a shelf in another. Wet footprints had formed on the couch which he had been standing on - a map that his slightly-discolored gray socks left behind. His black shirt stuck to his body, soaked with sweat, while his bleached jeans strained against one massive posterior while he was in a semi-crouch.
"It is two in the afternoon, yes. But now that you're up, you could come hold this for me," Frank gestured to the shelf-to-be.
"Ugh, no thanks. You know I'm terrible at this stuff. Manual labor has never been my thing," Derek replied and went over to the fridge.
"Doesn't mean you can't learn. Could help you find a job as well. C'mon, Derek, I'll teach you."
"I'd rather be taught by anyone but you, thanks. And where did manual labor get you? A job that can't even keep the lights on," Derek rolled his eyes.
Shooting a venomous glare at his son, Frank replied, "And where did a lack of labor get you? Seeming like a - how did you put it - 'whiny fuckhole' for people to see and laugh at? Or no - jerk their dicks to?"
"Yeah, and who's fault is that?" Derek raised his voice again. "If you had a proper job, we wouldn't be in this mess. Mom wouldn't have to work! We wouldn't have to starve!"
"I am trying, Derek, okay? I've sold most of my things just so we can somehow keep afloat. Including my damn drill and screwdrivers! Which is why I have to do this shit with hammer fixings."
"Can't you just borrow some more money from your brothers?" Derek asked, pulling out the last box of milk from the fridge.
"I've already borrowed from two of them, I'm not going to mooch more. If they can function on their own, so will I."
"Clearly," Derek's reply dripped with sarcasm.
"Derek, don't piss me off more than I already am. Today is not the day. And remember, I still have to fuck you today, so don't get me mad for your own good."
Derek's mouth shut promptly at the mention of their shared predicament, a faint blush appearing on his cheeks. Slamming the fridge door, he took out a bowl and poured milk into it alongside some cereal. From the couch, a quiet 'God fucking dammit' hissed as Frank had tapped himself into the thumb.
The snicker in Derek's throat was lost in the pouring of cereal. And for a while, that was the entire soundscape - scraping of a spoon against the bowl, sporadic hammering and squeaking of a couch. Watching his dad, Derek decided to speak up again.
"I'm surprised you managed to keep your job if your bricklaying skills are as bad as your hammering skills," his lips curled upwards.
A quick, spiteful glance was all it took - swinging metal hit flesh with full force, making for a wet and loud thump. Darkening, swelling skin slowly grew on the victimized thumb, taking the color of a violet. Frank's cheeks lost a bit of their tan, before slowly turning crimson.
"FUCKING HELL," he yelled.
With a single powerful hit, he nailed the fixing into the wood in one go, cracking the shelf slightly in the process. The hammer fell onto the floor. Loudly. Silence followed, accompanied by a venomous glare from Frank directed at his son.
"You better FUCKING hope that shit heals quick or I swear to..." he cut himself off, fuming.
A jump from the couch - then a quick stride to the fridge, formed by long, yet loud stomps. Filling a small cup with half-melted ice cubes, Frank dunked his thumb into it, sighing.
"That wasn't my fault..." Derek muttered into his bowl, head bowed.
"Don't even!..." Frank yelled, before reigning himself in. "Don't even start right now, Derek. Don't. I'm already on edge as it is. And this is not helping."
"Oh yeah? Why is that?!" Derek ignored his father's request. "Too afraid you're going to have to fuck me again? Oh no! You poor thing. Hope your dick doesn't hurt like my asshole after you're done having your way with me!"
"Would you finally stop bitching?!" Frank yelled in turn.
"Yeah?! Why? Is it annoying to hear the truth?"
"No, it's annoying to hear you moan about the same thing for three days in a row now! This was your idea, let me remind you. Not to mention that you explicitly agreed to it every time so far. Hell, you even got to fuck me. And guess what? I took it like a man and didn't whimper like a whiny sissy."
"So then why don't you let me fuck you every time then?!"
"Because we already established that I'd do the fucking, not the other way around. Feel free to talk to them if you're so hot and bothered by it. Maybe they'll take pity on you for wanting to fuck your dad instead of the other way around!"
"And which dad wants to fuck his son?!"
"Not me, that's for sure! I'm starting to miss jerking off into toilet paper when I have to put up with this whining every day," Frank fixed his gaze onto Derek, his eyes narrowing.
"Then why don't you go back to that?"
"Because I have a son who won't work, and so the only option left for him was to whore himself out to his own father," Frank spat out, getting into his son's face.
"Fuck you!" Derek retorted immediately, standing up.
Frank didn't move much, just watched from the counter - same narrowed eyes, same posture.
"And for your information, dad," Derek's vitriol bubbled from his lips in the form of spittle, "if you were in my shoes you wouldn't have found work either! Everyone I know is having trouble with it, not just me!"
"That might be true, but I also wouldn't have let my own father deflower me - and here you are, giving me your virginity from both sides."
"I-" the young man tried to look for words, but instead only found tears gathering at the edges of his eyes. "Fuck you!"
His steps resonated similar to his father's, but quieter - with less oomph. The slam of his bedroom door was loud enough to compensate for it, however.
All Frank could do was shake his head. He slid the cereal closer to himself, polishing off the leftovers in three spoonfuls and one lift of the bowl. Despite his trembling hands and furrowed brow, he placed the ceramic gently into the sink, filling it with water.
The footage sped up, but even through the fast-forwarding it was clear that Derek had not left his room for a few hours. Only at around five in the afternoon did the recording go back to normal, timed perfectly with Derek's door opening.
His dad was on the couch, sitting with his legs spread, thumb bandaged, eyes fixed on the TV. Not a single muscle in him moved when Derek came into sight. The same could not be said about the young man, though.
A vein appeared on his head, his brow immediately furrowed and the reddish skin around his eyes faded in the shadow created of his squint. His fists clenched and relaxed repeatedly as he stood there, watching his father.
"Derek," Frank nodded, not taking his eyes off the sports match playing before him.
No reply.
Air bulged in Derek's throat, but got swallowed just as quickly. Instead, he opted to sit down on the couch as well. He spread his legs, mimicking his father, his knee brushing against the bigger one next to him. Muscles bulged, visible even underneath his skinny jeans, but the other leg didn't as much as budge.
"Derek," Frank tried again.
"Frank," came a curt response.
"I think we should talk about this whole thing."
"This whole what?" Derek spat.
"Do you really want me to spell it out for you?" Frank's voice harbored no discomfort, rather a suppressed annoyance.
"Yes, please! Describe to me what we need to talk about," Derek doubled down.
"Fine. We need to discuss this whole sex thing. We technically have enough money to tide us over for a bit if we stop with it now. You seem to be quite against continuing this and we risk losing it all if your mother finds out. So I think we should consider ending it here."
"What?!" Derek shouted with a bewildered voice.
"What?" for the first time Frank turned, looking confused. "So you throw a hissy fit like that and then you're suddenly fine with it?"
"Yeah! Yeah, I'm fine with it! After all, if you can take my dick up your ass, so can I take yours. Because unlike you, I can take it and don't have to rely on being a top!"
"Well, I'm glad you had that revelation. Makes things a lot easier," Frank nodded and relaxed against the backrest, focusing his attention on the match again.
"I know. And for your information, I also took one of your virginities. So I guess that makes us half even. And if we count you never being with a man, we're fully even," Derek rattled out.
"True."
"Yeah. So I guess you feel a bit pathetic now that your own son had to deflower you," a little stripe of teeth was revealed by Derek's grin.
"Hmm, not really, no. I couldn't care less, to be honest," Frank shrugged.
"What?!" a shriek. "So you gave me shit for that earlier, and you don't give a fuck?"
"Well, you certainly care about it, don't you?"
"You're an asshole!" Derek stomped. "A selfish, brutish, dumb, fat, lazy, incompetent, callous, ugly, cold-"
Frank turned to his son for a brief moment, "When you're done throwing a tantrum and actually want to talk about something relevant, let me know."
Derek's tirade stopped, his words halting like a cork was plugged in his throat. A few attempts at speaking had been made, but all ended up in a pained exhale instead of a word.
Regaining his speech, he managed only a single phrase, "I hate you."
This time, it was Frank's turn to not respond, sitting quietly in the crater which had formed in the couch from his weight. Derek was left staring.
The scraping of keys and clicking of high-heels dispelled the tense energy as Linda had come into view. She hung up her rather expensive-looking coat on one of the hangers and looked to the two men.
"Did you hang up the shelf, dear?"
"Yes, dear. I also took out the trash, dusted and vacuumed."
A smile appeared on her face, before she turned to Derek, "See? Why can't you help out like that once in a while?"
"Because I didn't choose to be born, mom! You and dad chose to marry, though. So it's only logical that you two should be responsible for the housework the most."
Frank only snorted, a cheeky smirk playing on his lips while Linda leveled them both with an incredulous stare.
"Don't laugh at that, Frank. This is the worst excuse he's given yet and you're encouraging him."
"I'm not doing anything of that sort," Frank said, spreading his legs a bit further - much to Derek's dismay. "I'm merely laughing at how wimpy of a reason that is. But he'll grow out of it eventually, honey."
"He's in his twenties, Frank. How much more is he to grow?"
"Who knows? People gain common sense at different rates."
"Can you not talk about me like I'm not here?" Derek remarked snidely.
"Maybe once you act like you live in this house the same as us, we'll acknowledge you more," Linda said, crossing her arms.
With a grumble, he sank into the backrest of the couch right next to his dad and looked away from both of them. With a sigh, his mother walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out yesterday's leftovers. She slapped herself on the forehead before she could place them anywhere, though.
"Something the matter, Linda?" Frank asked.
"I forgot to go shopping! No wonder the fridge seemed oddly empty. Ugh, damn my senile head."
"It's fine, dear. We can go right now," Frank said, heaving himself off the couch.
"Can we?" Derek raised an eyebrow and tapped his pocketed phone.
Frank side-eyed him and held up an index finger in a way that Linda couldn't see.
"Yes, we can. If we all go together I'm sure it'll be more fun, though," Frank emphasized rather transparently.
"Ugh," Derek groaned, "fine! Let's go, then."
Skipping to the part where they got into the car, the footage showed all of them dressed somewhat presentably. Linda had kept the outfit she had on when she had arrived, while the men of the family had changed. For Frank, it was a simple switch of his shirt for something less sweat-soaked, whilst Derek had fully changed into a casual, clean outfit - shorts, shirt and sneakers.
The parents sat in the front, Frank behind the wheel, while Derek occupied the seat right behind his mom. He was looking out of the window, neck craned in a way that made him look the opposite direction of his father.
Just before the ignition was turned, calloused hand already hovering over the slot with a key, two notifications chimed in at the exact same time - from both Frank's and Derek's pockets.
Silence. There was no expected purr of the engine, not even a choke. Frank had frozen, eyes widening momentarily before a shudder ran through him. An exhale. While his hand moved steadily, Derek's reached into his own pocket with great tremors, the rest of him stupefied.
Light emanated from the screen, hitting both of their eyes at around the same time. A TabooVision message.
'Hello, darlings! Enjoying yourselves? I hope you are ready to do some more work for some nice cash! You already have 75k in the pot and guess what? Today another 75k are on the line!!! You two better shape up, because you're already on the site. Now, while your wife is waiting for you in the car, you shall have sex ON the car. Where? Up to you! As long as one of you is touching the car, you're fine.
But that wouldn't be fun by itself, would it? No, of course not. So our viewers have given you an extra challenge! Don't worry, daddy, your ass is safe today. But your mouths aren't! See, we have attached a little file to this message full of phrases and words we'd love to hear you say! Each of them is personalized to the individual, so no peeking, haha! How many of them do you have to say? We'll leave that to our discretion, so you better try your best. ;)
PS: The lube is in the glove box. Good luck!'
Both the men opened their respective files, immediately getting bombarded with lists spanning longer than their phone screens. WAY longer. They scrolled and scrolled, barely glancing at the text presented to them, before Frank sighed heavily.
"What's the matter, Frank? Why aren't we driving yet?" Linda asked, sounding annoyed.
"Sorry, I got distracted. Here, let me..." he said, pocketing his phone again.
He turned the key, but his foot on the clutch looked rather strange. Very light and oddly jittery. The engine died soon after the ignition was turned.
"Damn. Old thing must be acting up again," he sighed performatively. "Let me grab the booklet and go look at this piece of work."
His bulk leaned over to the passenger side - seat croaking beneath him when his weight tested the limits of the interior - wide back blocking Linda's view as he opened the glove compartment. Just a tiny gap. His eyes strained as he peered into the darkness of the container. Glinting in the faint light, a pink packet became visible soon enough, which Frank grabbed instantaneously alongside the manual it was placed on.
With an awkward grip, he held the items besides him, lube facing the window. Heavy breaths accompanied his every movement as he struggled to move back to his side. Then a few grunts and huffs. The door was open and his feet were planted on the tarmac. His head turned.
"Derek, come join me outside. We'll grab the toolkit from the trunk and I'll show you how to fix this girl up," he said and beckoned with his head.
A nod. Another. Or perhaps it was a nervous tremor. Nonetheless, Derek's hand moved to the handle and creaked the door open, standing up onto his trembling legs, breathing in loudly. Frank had already managed to walk around.
The trunk opened with a rusty creak, Frank's knee giving it a forceful push to unfold properly. Right after the metal was between him and his window, he used his hand to aggressively motion Derek closer. His pupils narrowed, lips pulled back to show his gap-marred teeth.
Barely saving himself from a fall, the young man hurried over to his dad, stumbling on nearly every step.
"What... what do we do? She's right here," his voice came out all thin, whiny.
"Quiet!" Frank whispered harshly. "We don't have a lot of time here. Your mom is not an idiot. Pull down your pants and lie down."
"Lie down where?" Derek motioned to the cluttered space, full of dirty blankets, dusty containers and other miscellaneous objects.
"There are boxes underneath the rag. It won't be plush, but it'll work. Come on! We don't have the time."
"The neighbors-"
"The neighbors nothing! If we're quick enough, they won't catch us. Nobody will. I hope... Now come on, Derek! Don't make me repeat myself over and over!"
The booklet landed in the overfilled trunk. With one hand, Frank held up the little packet to tear away with his teeth, while the other was busy unzipping his trousers. One great struggle later, and he managed to pull the front of his jeans down. A muttered 'fuck' accentuated his clumsiness, before he managed to pull his underwear to the side.
One could see a faint hint of steam escape alongside his manhood. The sweaty dick hung down, flaccid, dripping onto the tarmac, while his balls dangled in the summer air. They swung from side to side as he positioned himself, but Derek was still not there. Frank beckoned with his head, aggressive.
"Come on, Derek! We really don't have time!" he hissed through his teeth, still biting on a piece of plastic from the packet.
Shuddering one more time, Derek shuffled over to the trunk awkwardly and started pulling down his shorts, fumbling multiple times. Every time his fingers hooked into the fabric, they slipped out with a tremor.
Frank could only roll his eyes before hiding the scrap of plastic into his back pocket.
"Here, let me do it."
A single downwards swipe of his meaty paw and Derek's ass was fully exposed. With the speed of pure reflex, skinny hands shot out to protect his backside, before catching himself mid-motion. A crimson flood spread on his cheeks.
"There. Bend over and I'll get it over with as soon as I can, alright?" Frank commanded, pouring the lube over his member.
And yet his momentum came to a halt when he looked at his son's ass. The moment Derek had bent over, it winked, showcasing a small gape in it. The longer Frank stared, the longer it kept moving. Open. Close. Open. Close. He wasn't even doing anything yet. For a moment, his eyebrows pulled back and his back slouched, but that second of weakness disappeared with a sharp inhale just as quickly.
Spreading the glistening viscous liquid all over his length, he managed to stroke himself to a half-mast. Gently prodding at the hole, his dick caught on the rim before slipping out. The hardened meat rested on his son's ass, golden skin against pale backdrop.
"Relax, Derek. I can't get in this way," Frank said as he pried the hole open with fingers.
Hiss and moan combined in Derek's throat, the mixture spilling out of him when his dad pressed up again. A long inhale could be heard from Frank, his eyes closed.
"Attaboy. That's it. Open that asscunt for daddy," Frank whispered, finally pushing his tip in.
Derek's head whipped back to glare at his father, yet the size invading his hole was too big to let him stay mad. His skinny torso lay on the old blanket completely. With practiced ease, Frank had managed to sheath himself in fully.
His eyes peered over the opened trunk, hypnotizing the back of his wife's head, before snapping back to the sight below. Just as he had promised, the rhythm was merciless from the get-go. Hips pulling away, before slamming back with a wet slap, sending the lube flying all over the place.
Pocketing the rest of the lube packet, Frank leaned over his son, who was being bracketed by strong, hirsute arms. The dad's belly jiggled with every thrust.
"Your blown-out pussy is getting bred today, bitch boy," Frank whispered again.
This time, the venom in Derek's veins was seemingly strong enough to keep him angry, eyes locked with his father's.
A snarl came from his lips, "You're way too comfortable, Frank."
"No, I just know how to act. Which you should too, since you took all of those theater classes. So play along, and we can go our merry ways again."
Derek rolled his eyes, gripping the fabric he was being pounded on. His back arched before he closed his eyes.
A shaky whimper sounded from him, "Yes, daddy."
"'Yes, daddy' what? You ready to get bred, is that it? Want your daddy's load? That's what cumdumps like you live for, right?"
"Yes, daddy," a more pained response came. "I love... I just love it when you breed me, daddy."
Running his hand over his face, Frank quickly shook his head.
"This is so fucking embarrassing," he groaned quietly. "At least the pay is proper for the humiliation ritual."
"Oh, boo-hoo, must be so hard being an ass. Try getting fucked in the ass with a thing like yours and then we can talk," Derek whisper-yelled, eyes watery.
As if on purpose, Frank's hips delivered a particularly harsh upwards thrust into his son's open hole. The young man lifted from the blanket, shaking the car when he landed.
"Yeah, yeah, I've heard. Let's just continue talking, cumdump. Keep that hole nice and gaping for me."
One pair of hairy, voluminous balls slapped into another pair of hairless, paler ones. They squelched when the impact caused lube to spread out on both of them, connecting them with what could be mistaken for a string of saliva. With the speed they were running against each other, a rich soundscape of wet noises was created.
Frank's face tensed, his feet shifting so he could stand on his toes. Rapidly pistoning downwards, his dick was starting to throb. But fate had different ideas as a voice came from the passenger side door.
"Did you two find it? How hard can getting one toolbox be?" Linda asked, annoyance palpable in her voice.
The moment Frank's ears met the sound of a car door opening, his body moved at mach speed. With one hand, he grabbed a dilapidated metal box from the trunk, its insides clinking loudly. The other hand was too busy grasping his son's shirt, pulling him out of the trunk and positioning the both of them to the side - hidden safely by the vehicle's frame.
"Yeah, we found it. Took us a bit, though. You know I've never been the most organized, honey," Frank fixed her with a smile as soon as she came into sight.
He had not pulled out. Obscured by the car, Derek was slouching out of sight. His dad's dick pulsed in him periodically, but nothing was coming out of it yet.
"Damn," the young man whispered to seemingly nobody.
"Just hurry it up, alright? The store won't be open forever," she admonished.
"Will do, dear. Go sit back down," Frank smiled at her warmly.
With a sigh, she made her way back to her seat. The father fixed his son with an annoyed gaze.
"You know, you could've used your theater skills there too. I suck at acting," he hissed.
"Oh, so suddenly you suck at it? But you know, it's hard to act when you just got manhandled and have a dick up your ass!" Derek hissed back.
"Fine! Then just get a move on and pretend it's all fine, alright? I'll open up this baby and we'll be covered again."
After many failed starts, Derek finally managed to listen to his father and stand up straight, walking slowly forward. Their connected hips were just below the windows, leaking lube and precum onto the ground as they moved. A gentle slap could be heard as their balls connected, similar to the sticky steps of rubber soles on hot tarmac.
When they got close to the front, Frank leaned in and reach over to open the hood. By doing so, he had sheathed himself balls-deep, causing his son's legs to shudder, arms reaching for support wherever they could. Though instead, Frank's free hand slithered its way to Derek's belly and propped him up properly.
"Hold on, we're almost there," dad whispered.
Derek only managed a single nod before they started walking again. Frank made sure that their groin remained unseen, pushing both of them down as the vehicle's architecture shifted lower. When they finally got to the front, Derek got bent over once more. The toolbox clattered onto the ground as both of Frank's hands gripped the slender hips before him.
"Are you ready, slut?" a low rumble emerged from him.
Derek's brow furrowed, "Yes, daddy."
"Good. We're going to pick up where we left off, alright? Brace yourself, whore."
After that declaration, Frank thrusted forward with a might swoop, setting a merciless pace. Derek couldn't do much except hold onto the car's guts while his own guts got rearranged.
Linda looked out of the windshield and her eyes met her husband's. He simply smiled at her, the skin around his eyes crinkling slightly as he gave her a nod. She answered with a smile of her own, but her eyebrows met in the middle, her head cocked. Not once did she react to the slight rhythm of the car. Seemingly no clue her son was being bred right in front of her.
"You ready for that load, slut?" Frank whispered down at Derek, leaning down a bit.
"Do we have to keep this up? We must've already said enough," a pained reply came.
With a huff, Frank uttered a calm response, "And how do you know that? They didn't say how much we need to talk about this bullshit, so just oblige, alright? Not gonna be long now."
"Okay, fine," Derek surrendered, bracing himself on the metallic innards. "Yes, daddy, please, give it to me."
"That's it, boy. You want your siblings in you?"
Looking to the heavens, Derek continued the roleplay, "Yes! Please! I want to make my daddy proud by being his little cumdump."
"Yeah? You wanna make daddy proud, boy?"
"I live for it, daddy."
"Say it again, baby."
"I live for making your proud, daddy."
"Oh, you already make me proud, little man."
The little body hair that Derek managed to grow bristled at the nickname, his grip tightening further. For a second, his throat worked and lips opened - retracting to the point of showing all his teeth. But he swallowed whatever words he had brewing with an inhale.
"Thank you, daddy. Are you going to cum soon, daddy?" he asked, sounding somewhat irritated.
"Yes, little man. And you're cumming with me."
Frank's hands shifted positions. One slid downwards, gently starting to stroke Derek's erect cock. Steady, rhythmic movements pushed the precum directly onto the faded lacquer of the car. The other hand made its way to Derek's jaw, gently turning his head to meet his father's gaze. And how their gazes met. Momentarily, the pace slowed down for a moment.
"Ready, little man? Ready to cum with daddy?" Frank asked, his voice dropping even lower.
Derek swallowed heavily, "Yes... I'm ready."
"Ready to what, little man?"
"I'm ready to..." Derek trailed off, his throat working. "I'm ready to cum, daddy."
"Yeah? Good to hear. Because daddy is ready too," Frank said, picking up speed. "Where do you want it?"
"There's only one place where it can go," Derek blushed.
"Then say it, Derek."
"I want it... I want it up my ass, daddy."
Frank grinned nigh imperceptibly, his hips lowering as he started to jackhammer. Gently caressing Derek's cheek, the bandage on his finger brushed against his son's lip.
"You make daddy really proud, little man. Always have," Frank hissed as his sack started to tense up.
"Yeah?" Derek responded with a slurred voice. "Am I good for daddy?"
"The best, little man."
"Can you repeat that, daddy? Please?" Derek asked with a thin voice, bucking his own hips back to meet his dad's thrusts.
"Of course I can. You're the best, little man. Daddy is so proud of you. You're making daddy so proud!"
The conversation ended with a stifled groan from both men. Ecstatic looks were exchanged alongside heavy breaths. A splurt of cum. Then another. Derek's pecker shot a smaller load onto the roughened car exterior. His dad, meanwhile, had started cumming earlier and was still not done. His balls pulsated - expanding and contracting - as they audibly pushed a heavy deposit into his son's ass. A load noticeably bigger than the ones from previous days.
For a moment: nothing but silence. Then, as if a jolt had hit Derek - he straightened his back and moved to the side, making his dad's dick slip out with a loud, wet plop. A thick, white stream of cum flowed out of his ass straight onto the ground, sizzling in the sun.
"We'll never speak of this again, understood?" Derek hissed and pulled up his pants.
"Didn't plan to," Frank nodded, zipping himself up.
"And don't you get any ideas of speaking that way to me again!"
Frank smirked faintly whilst pulling the hood down again, "What way?"
"Don't give me that!" Derek yelled, storming off to the back of the car.
A few chuckles came out of the old man - his smile faltering with each sound - before he stashed the toolbox away properly and grabbed the booklet.
Drip. Drip drip. One after the other, small droplets of rain appeared on the car's windows - going from few to a myriad in the span of a few seconds. Muttering a curse under his breath, Frank ran back to the wheel.
"Damn, almost caught me lacking," he said, shaking his semi-wet hair a bit, before he closed the door and threw the booklet into the glove compartment.
"That's fine, we'll be in the car for a while anyway," Linda said, settling into her seat properly. "But I must say, I'm impressed. I didn't expect Derek to accept helping you with the car."
"Well, he's just full of surprises. Catches on quick, too," Frank nodded along.
"Yeah..." Derek gave his own weak nod from the back.
"You two were really good at it. I saw you were constantly explaining something to him. Was he really that quick on the uptake?"
"You bet. A natural car maniac," Frank laughed.
"Good. That means there's some shred of man left in that boy," she said. "At least he didn't grow up to be... you know."
Frank merely hummed, letting the drumming of droplets do the speaking while he inserted the key into the ignition. The engine purred.
"Well, look at that! It works!" Linda said, in awe. "Good job, Frank. Derek, you should thank your father for finally teaching you some important skills."
"Yeah, he's a great teacher," Derek mumbled.
But unlike his usual broody responses, this one seemed different. It was colder, quieter and blunter. There was no bite or hatred perceptible in his voice or expression. Just a blank stare - the splattered window reflecting in his iris.
"Oh, leave him alone, Linda. He did great and that's all that matters," Frank looked gently into the rear-view mirror.
His wet sole connected with the gas pedal and-
"I'm gonna stay home," Derek proclaimed, opening the door on his side.
"What? Why?" Linda asked, bewildered.
"I dunno, just feel like it."
"That's no reason!"
"Maybe I just don't feel like going shopping anymore, alright?! Get off my back," he yelled, his posture tense.
"What a way to be a brat again, Derek."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever."
"You gonna at least actually do something useful while you stay behind?" she asked with an accusatory tone.
Derek shrugged. And that was all the response she got. He got out of the car without a sound - the door sending out a wet splash as he closed it shut.
Frank cracked his window open, finally speaking up, "Just get inside quickly! You'll catch a cold otherwise!"
Without looking back, Derek's hand formed a thumbs-up lasting for merely a second. He walked at a leisurely pace, his clothes soaking fully with the summer shower. But he did not seemed bothered by it at all.
Inside the car, Frank's foot finally applied pressure to the pedal, making the old thing lurch into motion. Linda stared at her husband, appearing more confused than anything.
"Why did he want to stay?"
But she did not get an answer. Instead, Frank's face remained in the expression from when he had seen Derek walk away. A halfhearted smile mixed with his eyebrows slanted downwards. His fingers drummed against the tearing leather of the steering wheel, bandage wet and translucent. He remained silent and Linda did not pry further.
All that was left at the house itself was Derek's lethargic form, looking back at where his parents had driven off. The sideways arc of his back was emphasized by the soaked fabric of his shirt. After being thoroughly drenched by looking at an empty driveway, he finally decided it was time to go back inside. To an empty home.
Colors, images and clips played on the screen, as the scene shifted back to the studio. Jaxon, his face split in two by the sheer span of his grin, stood with his hands clasped behind his back.
"Well, that was amazing, darlings! What an episode and the drama? Ugh," he fanned at his face.
Stepping to the side, he allowed for a graph to appear on the side. The outer bars are about the same length, while the middle one reaches up to half their length.
"Damn, would you look at that! Must be how Derek feels next to his dad!" Jaxon clapped. "But for real, my darlings, you love cutting it close! This time around, dirty talk won with a few hundred votes above nudity! Eight thousand, seven thousand, and then a lowly four thousand. But cum stain enjoyers, don't worry! Your time to shine will come, I know it will!"
The graphic changed to a set of three options - a familiar setup. The images of sweat drops, a red crossed-out circle and a face.
"You know the drill, people. The next three options we have are: At number one - Cum marking! Derek's gonna bust a load in his undies, while daddy contributes on the backside! Option number two - nudity! No clothes while doing the horizontal tango! And our newcomer iiiiiis-" he slapped out a drum roll on his thighs, "a facial! Yes, my dears, daddy Frank will have to mark his beloved son's face for all to see! At least for an hour, that is."
While the images disappeared, Jaxon remained on screen, adjusting his synthetic clothes. A little of his bulge slipped out, showing the base of his rather thick dick.
"Oh, I am so sorry, darlings. Today's episode is over!" he brushed away a non-existent tear. "But don't worry! Our contestants went far beyond our expectations this time around! Literally, that is. Words were slung around that we did not anticipate, my dears! So vote for the next challenge and tune in for another episode of Mothercucker! Who knows, maybe they'll give it their best again? You shall find out next time! See you in episode four, dears!"
The recording zoomed out - slowly at first, but speeding up with every passing second - before the screen went completely black. Only a reflection remained, as a replay button appeared.
So sorry of the long wait, everyone! As always, let me know what you thought in the comments or via private message! That is also a way of voting! Because yes, the vote is, as always, very much real. The comments at the start are also somewhat real - inspired by you guys' reactions! See you next time! Hopefully sooner. Thanks for reading!
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