My son, My trade

The following is a work of erotic fiction meant to be enjoyed by a mature audience. 

Friday night and Ralph's bar was hopping.  All the regulars, and others, were present.  The juke box was playing a mixture of classic rock and country.  A highly competitive game of darts was in progress.  Every seat along the bar and at the two tables was occupied.  Others stood around in klatches, beer bottles in hand, shooting the shit. The air was thick with cigarette and cigar smoke.  Blue collar workers from the various factories along the water front mingled with truckers, bikers, business men and the town locals.  The old and middle age were represented, with a minimum of twenty-somethings in attendance.  They were a raucous crowd.  It had been a long week and they were rarin' to go.

Ever since school resumed Buck Hauser had limited his son's "work" schedule.  Although their joint venture had proved lucrative over the summer, and despite the fact that Marc had fucked his way into a college scholarship, Buck figured his education was more important.  He didn't want his son stuck in this unprogressive industrial town.  Marc was a good looking boy with athletic prowess and unlimited potential which would never be reached if he remained saddled to this place like the others.  The twink showed mild disappointment at the idea of not entertaining his many clients in the basement of the dive bar, but Buck felt certain his son would be getting more than enough dick at school to keep his hungry asshole satiated.  Still, Marc eagerly counted the days to week's end when he would be back in business servicing all those old men and common laborers.

It was a bit after nine-thirty.  Although the joint normally closed at ten, if business was this good owner Ralph Hilliard allowed Buck to remain open at his discretion.  By local ordinance bars were allowed to operate until two a.m.  From the looks of things this would be a very late night.  The booze was flowing, the register drawer was piling up, Buck's tips were good and his seventeen year old money maker downstairs was showing no sign of exhaustion.  Currently he was getting fucked by cross-country trucker Denny Burkhardt, a big paunchy Kentuckian with an ultra-fat dick.  Good ole' boy Denny had picked up after the Italian duo of muscle bound Dickie Amalfatano and his buddy, Dom Marino double fucked the teen.  Before that was Sammy Hodges, beer-bellied fork lift operator from over at the cannery and the father of Marc's friend, Bryan.  Sammy had followed Frank Warren and his son Billy, Marc's closest buddy, who Frank sent home immediately following the engagement.  Earlier in the evening the golden agers had their time with Marc.  Sixty-year-old Clyde Clemmons, Hank Rochester, pushing seventy, and garage owner Joe Stankowitz all had their fill of the early bird special.

Between customers Buck monitored the activity from his cell, via the app and spy cam secreted in the basement.  The sight of big, beefy Denny atop his son, mugging it up with the kid as he fucked him, was entirely obscene.  Buck wondered if Ralph, wherever he was tonight, was watching the feed from his phone.  Both of them had access to the app.  It was somewhat surprising the proprietor wasn't present this evening.  Ralph was always hot for a piece of Marc's ass. 

Buck resumed his bartender duties.  Two new faces sidled up the bar.  Buck figured they were late twenties, not the type to normally frequent an old men's bar.  Since word about Marc had slipped out there were all sorts coming through the front door these evenings.  These two looked Middle Eastern, maybe Arab or Turkish descent with dark, good looks and the prerequisite three-day, but tidy, no shave.  As they paid for their drinks they each slipped Buck a fifty, the going rate for his son's ass.  Their eyes locked, Buck considered and then covered the bills with his paw and slid them from the bar top.  These two would be a change from what Marc had been entertaining thus far.

"Gonna be awhile," he advised them, "You've got a few ahead of you."  The two were all pearly white toothy smiles.  Buck thought sure they would high-five or fist-bump each other.  He moved away, shaking his head.  Arabs, Turks and who-knew-what-else had invaded his childhood town.   

As Buck poured Tommy Hadley another one he looked out and saw Otis Williams shouldering his way through the crowd.  Williams was a black ex-wrestler who Buck had to bounce from the bar on more than one occasion.  They had gone to school together, although Otis was two years ahead of Buck.  Buck didn't like him then, and he liked him he even less now.

"Lemme have a beer," he ordered in his commanding tone, squeezing between Tommy and Bobby Bonerz.  Otis was fine with beer.  It's when he started drinking the hard stuff that he became rowdy.  Buck drew Otis' usual from the tap, set it before him and looked at the fifty the black had laid out.

"Don't you have nuthin' smaller than that?" Buck asked.

Otis looked him square in the face.  "You know what that's for."

Buck paused, meeting the challenge in Otis's eyes, and then pushed the bill back at him.  "Shop's closed for tonight, Otis."

Otis's piercing eyes narrowed.  "Just seen the handoff from them two young'ns over there," he said, nodding in the direction of the mid-easterners. 

"They're the last," Buck told him pointedly.

Otis hoicked his eyebrows and smiled unpleasantly.  "We both know what this really be about, don' we Buck?"

Bobby and Tommy, well aware of the exchange, knew that Otis was difficult to manage when he became violent.  And they smelled trouble brewing.  Despite the odds, they had Buck's back and would engage if it became necessary.  The two opposing men stared each other down.  Buck's nostrils flared, there was a tic at the corner of one eye.  He leaned on one muscular forearm across the bar, practically in the black man's face.  Otis breathed heavily, big tendons throbbing at his temples.  His fists clenched and unclenched at his sides.  He knew the score.  They all did.  This was one heavily racist town, at least on this side of the dividing highway.  Prejudice had been handed down from generation to generation.  The handful of blacks who resided down by the factories had lineage extending as far back as the rest of these local yokels. On the surface it appeared they were equally accepted.  But inclusion only went so far. 

It was fine for old white men to fuck the whore in the basement but when it came to nigger dick Pimp Daddy drew the line.  At the height of their stand-off Otis was tempted to brag about the times he'd already fucked that white boy's pussy, how he'd seeded him with scores of black babies.  Rub his bigoted face in it.  What Otis didn't know was that Buck was already fully aware. Marc had confessed his liaisons with the black man, much to Buck's dismay. 

If questioned about his prejudice Buck wouldn't have a clear answer.  The few who stopped by the bar were as amiable as the rest of the clientele.  Gene Taylor, a paper mill laborer with a penchant for Asian twat and a bit of trouble every now and then, was otherwise a good-humored, knee-slapping, happy-go-lucky type of guy.  Old white bearded Rufus Carter, who must have been pushing eighty, enjoyed sipping his Mad Dog and telling tales about the not-so-good old days.  When he wasn't being aggressive Otis was okay, too, although Buck remained somewhat wary of him.  The entire Williams family, father and sons, weren't above getting themselves involved in physical scrimmages.  Still, that didn't make them any different from some others in town.  The Brambles, Rick and his delinquent son Gage, were far worse.  No, Buck couldn't justify his attitude.  He just knew what he'd always heard from his daddy, who heard it from his.  Maybe it was a good thing Marc was immune to such judgments.

Denny's re-entry into the main area served to break the deadlock.  Big as he was Buck figured it took some effort to hoist himself up all those rickety-ass steps.  The trucker was all off three hundred-plus pounds and, even sideways, barely made it through the doorway.  Looking entirely pleased with himself he slapped another trucker buddy on the back and that man hurriedly man his way to the door of rapture.  He was next up.  Not quite as heavy as Denny, that one still looked like he'd just pulled in from a few days on the road and could do with a good cleaning up. Generous Denny had paid for them both. 

Otis drained his mug, his eyes still locked with Bucks.  Smacking his thick lips, he licked off the froth, said, "I'll be seeing you, Buck," and then turned to make his way out of the bar.  Although he had made a non-confrontational retreat this was far from over.

It was several days later when Elijah Williams approached Marc with his problem.  It seemed that he wasn't doing very well in Trigonometry, whereas Marc had a natural aptitude for figures. While they weren't exactly friends, both were on the basketball team.  Marc agreed to help him out.

"Great, dude!" the tall, trim boy smiled widely.  "How 'bout tonight?  Say around seven, after dinner?   My mama, she's working the second shift so she won't be around.  I kinda don't want her to know I'm not catchin' on to this stuff."

"Yeah, seven's good," Marc replied.  "But I've got to be home by ten.  My Dad doesn't like me out late on a school night."

Promptly at seven Marc pulled his father's Ranger up in front of the Williams house.  Buck was working the closing shift at the bar so was in no need of it.  He had told him he was going to tutor another classmate in Trig, but failed to mention it was Otis Williams' son.  The Williams home was a decent looking two story with decorative beds of flowers, courtesy of the lady of the house, in the small front yard.  Marc had been there before.  While Elijah probably didn't know it, he and Mr. Williams were well acquainted.  

Elijah answered the bell almost immediately.  Like Marc he appeared ready to shoot hoops, dressed in satin athletic shorts, tank top and sneakers.  He quickly ushered Marc to the finished basement.  Marc had also been here before.  Part of it was cordoned off into a makeshift gym, complete with barbells, bench press, heavy bag and wrestling mats.  It was where Mr. Williams had first fucked him with his big black dick.  Elijah led him to a family room area with sofa, chairs, coffee table and wide screen mounted to the wall.  Marc found it curious how excited the other boy was to have him there.  He figured Elijah had probably given up hope of passing the class and was grateful to receive assistance.

"So, like, where's your text books?"  Marc inquired.  Their antiquated school system still used them.

"Oh, yeah, right!"  Elijah appeared to have forgotten.  "They're upstairs.  Let me go get them.  Be right back!"

Marc watched the other boy trot off up the stairs and took a seat on the sofa to wait.  He was only there a matter of moments when something heavy dropped across his right shoulder, startling him.  Shooting his head to the side he was stunned to see a thick, flaccid cock dark as midnight resting there.  Looking up he saw the piece belonged to Elijah's father, Otis Williams.  No one had come down those stairs after Elijah's exit.  Mr. Williams must have been waiting there in the shadows all this time.

"H-hey, Mr. Williams," he stammered.  "Elijah, he asked me to help him with some school stuff. H-he'll be right back!"

Otis smiled toothily and moved around the sofa.  Marc's eyes flared excitedly when he saw the man was stripped bare.  A nude Otis Williams was a formidable sight.  Shaved head, goateed beard and all black muscle he looked every bit the champion wrestler he was in his younger days.  "Elijah needs no help with his Trigonometry," Otis announced as he moved to take a place on the sofa next to Marc.  Throwing a heavily muscled arm across the back of Marc's shoulders and tweaking the lad's closest nipple he confessed, "My son was doing what his daddy tell him to do.  Lurin' you here to my crib.  Been awhile Marc.  I been missin' that sweet pink pussy of yours."

"And my jock pussy's been aching for your big black cock," Marc replied sexily.  If only the kid's bigoted father could hear him now, the muscular stud thought.

Otis smiled and slipped a big dark hand up under Marc's shirt to lay his fat fingers directly on those pert nubs.  "Get you out of them clothes and get me hard," he commanded.   From the looks of that black beast he was already on his way but Marc dutifully shucked his garments and went to work on Otis' prick.  It was a black beauty, its heavy arteries already filling with blue blood as it rested against his powerful thigh.  Marc took it in hand, aroused by the heat which emanated from the throbbing meat.  Leaning down he swiped his tongue over the meaty head once, twice and then took it into his mouth.  Otis' strong hand was on his head, running fingers through his silky hair as he sucked on his glans.  Only thing better than seeing black cock in a cracka's mouth was when it was pumping in and out of white pussy.

Otis quickly grew rigid and thicker, his majestic prick projecting upward and ready for action.   In its fully aroused state Otis' rod was better than ten inches of thick, veined meat capped by a bulbous, jaw busting head.  Marc's tongue swirled over and around the meaty helmet and teased the bundle of nerves just under the thickly ridged head.  He licked and sucked for all his worth, digging the tip of his lapper into the gaping piss eye.  In short order Otis was leaking salty pre-cum into his cum-thirsty mouth.  Positioned on his knees on the sofa perpendicular to the brawny stud with face in crotch his ass was propped up in the air behind him.  While he received excellent head Otis slid one hand into the rear of Marc's basketball shorts, showed appreciation to those glorious globes and worked a sausage-like finger into his moist asshole.  Marc moaned with pleasure.

Tugging on Otis' hefty ball bag Marc engulfed more of the thick prick with his wet, hungry mouth until he had taken better than half of it.  That fat knob was knocking on his front door and Marc was eager to answer.  In one fell swoop he went down on it, swallowing the entirety of Otis Williams' manhood.  Otis sighed huskily and tossed his bald head back against the sofa. Marc's lips and throat did all sorts of enticing things to his meat before the boy began a full-length face fuck.  The boy was snorting like a pig from flared nostrils and oozing mouthfuls of saliva from his widely open mouth as he ravaged himself on black cock. Otis' working finger shoved in and out of the jock's clutching rectum, prepping it for the next phase of their assignation.

"Hey Pop, when I gettin' some of that white boy?"

Otis could have sworn he felt a "huh?" reverberate around his meat.  From the corner of his eye Marc was stunned to see Elijah standing there observing them.  Elijah was as bare here as he was in the gym locker room and stroking a nice piece.  He was tall, smooth and lean-bodied with slim hips, a concave belly, long legs and big hands.  His kinky hair was short-cropped, his lips were thick and nose broad.  Elijah was definitely his father's son, sans the muscular build.  Although not quite as long and slightly less thick that Otis', Elijah sported an admirable chocolate-hued cock.  His brown eyes were sparkling with desire as he stood there observing his teammate deep throating his father.

"What you waitin' for, boy?"  Otis spoke sternly.  "Get over here and prepare that pussy for some fuckin'."  When the boy looked at him with puzzlement Otis clarified, "You know, like we done with Tawana 'afore we fucked her."

"You mean, like, eat his asshole?"  Elijah asked incredulously.

"That there's a pussy!"  Otis snapped.  "Now get you down there and make it all nice and wet so's we can fuck it!"

Marc nearly choked on Otis' big beef.  Tawana Jones was a nappy haired, chubby black girl from the other side of town who was in their class.  Elijah and his Dad had fucked her?  And Otis was now commanding Elijah to eat his ass?  The same Elijah he had a scrimmage with on the basketball court the other day resulting in both of them being benched?

"What'sa matter with you, boy?  I gotta teach you everything?" Otis declared testily.  "Before you fuck, you gotta eat.  Now get to it!"

Elijah looked to where this father was skinning down Marc's shorts, exposing his bare hinds, and swallowed hard.  He hadn't been all that crazy about licking Tawana's pussy.  It was hairy, clammy and smelled kind of funny.  Sticking his dick into it was another thing; that felt good.  But putting his mouth on it was another thing entirely.  Marc's asshole didn't look anything like Tawana's twat.  His ass cheeks were smooth, hairless and tempting, parted just enough to reveal the puckered pink hole.  After a moment of indecision Elijah dropped onto the sofa behind his teammate, yanked his shorts down farther and spread his black hands across Marc's butt cheeks, squeezing the fleshy mounds.  Marc had a great butt, much better than that fat ass on Tawana.  As he kneaded those heavenly spheres Elijah's thumbs ran down either side of the other boy's bald crack, his fingertips touching the surprisingly tiny little pucker.  Marc seemed to like that.  Those ass lips pulsed against his touch.  Deciding this might not be so bad after all Elijah spread those buttocks wide and moved in for a taste.

He was first aware of the heat emanating from Marc's asshole.  Sniffing, he was pleasantly surprised by the lack of rank, nasty odor.  It was a shitter, after all.  Marc's pouting jock hole smelled clean and fresh.  Sticking out his tongue, he touched the tip to the bull's eye and felt the folds of flesh quiver against him.  Growing bolder he began to lap at the target.  This wasn't so bad, after all!  Dad had said to get him wet, so that's precisely what Elijah did.  He spit-soaked that bud, getting it ready for some hot fucking action.  The anticipation of slipping his dick inside Marc's pussy was almost unbearable.  He had heard whispered rumors around school but thought, nah, not Marc Hauser.  He was a hard playing junior athlete, always walking with one cute cheerleader or another down the halls at school.  But when the talk was confirmed by his own father, seeking revenge for a slight by Marc's father, Elijah desperately wanted a piece of the action. 

"Get your tongue up in there, boy!" Otis huskily commanded. "Gotta open him up for big Williams family dick!"

A quick convert to eating boy ass Elijah began probing right into the pucker.  He wriggled his way through the pulsing folds and popped into the tender hole.  There was a tart taste, but Elijah was too far gone now to let anything deter him.  He shoved his tongue deep inside Marc's shit chute and ravenously ate him from the inside out.  Elijah was far from a scholar, but he figured he was doing something right by the way Marc was squirming around on his tongue.  The more Marc bucked into his face, the more aggressive Elijah became.  As he latched his lips around Marc's tasty hole noisily sucking the pucker while delving into its murky depths, he reached between the boy's parted thighs and grabbed hold of Marc's throbbing prick.  Damn if that white boy didn't have a dick big as his own!  Marc's mama or grandma or someone down the line must have taken black cock on the sly for Marc to have one so large!  Wrapping his ebony fingers around the impressive piece Elijah stroked it as if it were his own while he munched away on his teammate's sweet ass.

Otis was thoroughly enjoying having his masterful meat devoured by the Hauser boy.  Whereas his wife refused to suck dick Otis had others who had accepted the challenged.  But not a one of them could go beyond their limits like Marc did.  That cute white boy could gobble down dick like none other.  His mouth moved up and down the massive ebony prick from heavy glans to thick root, sucking the meat along the way.  With his face smashed in Otis' rich man bush and the cock buried down his throat he sent waves of tantalizing vibrations through the succulent organ, causing the black man's thick lips to quiver and his heart to palpitate.  Marc had the talent to get a lesser man off in seconds.  But Otis was tougher than the rest..  Hanging on was the challenge.

He directed his attention to his youngest son.  Elijah was slobbering all over that pretty little hole now.  His initial reluctance had turned to outright desire.  The boy was lapping away like a sloppy pig, invading that hole with his tongue with much more enthusiasm than he had for Tawana's lunch box.  Young Elijah had his mouth, nose and full face in that lush ass crack while he stabbed his tongue in and out of the hot hole.  Otis wasn't often proud of his troublesome sons, but at the moment Elijah was his pride and joy.  Like father, like son.  Glancing at his watch his heavy brows knitted and cursed the other son under his breath.  As usual, the hooligan was late.

Otis was itching for some of that ass himself.  Deciding Elijah had taken enough pleasure he directed his son to change places.  The boy's 9.5 inches was leaking heavily and in need of some special attention.  He quickly fell into the place his father had just abandoned and quivered all over when Marc went down on him.  Otis got behind Marc, pausing a moment to admire those glorious twin globes before fully pulling off the jock's shorts and briefs.  Instructing Elijah to get rid of the lad's shirt, his son dutifully complied.  Otis wanted the boy fully undressed when his eldest son finally showed up.  If he didn't that son was going to get one hell of an ass whooping.  It would have ruined everything.

Rather than indulging in a bit of ass munching Otis dug between the cushions of the sofa and extracted the plastic bottle of lube he secreted there.  He smeared it over his dark cock, making his staff glisten with the slippery stuff.  Squeezing some onto Marc's twitching hole he penetrated the orifice with two thick fingers, smearing it inside and along the outer rim of the white whore's pussy.  Marc's ass lips grasped his fingers, anxious for something more.  Otis got up on his feet so his big muscular body was crouched over the boy, planted his thunder thighs to each side of Marc's trim hips and directed his truncheon down to the awaiting fuck hole.  The huge dong broke through and plowed forward into the greasy, sucking channel until completely enveloped by Marc's warm, moist sheath.  Otis released a masculine sigh once he bottomed out while Marc whimpered around the cock in his throat.  Father and son had him impaled from both ends and it felt awesome!

Otis got right to the fucking.  He fucked with his hips, relentlessly pounding Marc's hole with the full length.  Elijah was wide eyed, partially from the superb blow job he was getting but more from the sight of his father buggering his teammate.  Otis' glistening club ceaselessly pounded Marc's ass, royally reaming out his hole.  It seemed almost like a grunge fuck which, in a way, it was.  Otis had been denied by the boy's father; now, he was taking retribution.  And the full scope of his vengeance had not yet begun.  Where in the fuck, he thought, is that other good-for-nothing boy?"

As if on cue heavy footfalls sounded on the basement stairs and Kareem Williams arrived on the scene.  Twenty years old, with features more representative of his mother's side, Kareem was often involved in unlawful behavior.  He hung with a dangerous crowd of juvenile delinquents, often causing trouble and engaging in petty crimes.  More than once Otis had to collect him from town lockup.  Barely graduating high school, his poor attendance and smug attitude made it difficult to hold a job.  Was something of a pity because along with that rough attitude he was a good looking boy with smoky, heavy-lidded (although that could be from all the weed he smoked), long-lashed eyes and seductive, full lips.  He kept clean shaved except for the soul patch below his pouting lower lip and above his strong chin.  An always-present doo-rag scarf was worn low on his forehead and over his very closely cropped scalp, tied in the back with its ends dangling nearly to his shoulders.  He dressed in over sized clothes and owned a seemingly vast selection of expensive sneakers, presumably lifted from one shop or another.

"Where the fuck you been?" Otis growled angrily as he looked over his shoulder at one of his biggest disappointments.  "You was s'posed to be here a half hour ago."

Kareem couldn't help but be amused by the scene of his muscled father riding the ass of some pretty white boy while his baby 'bro had his hands atop the kid's head as he impressively bobbed up and down.  Shrugging his shoulders and unsuccessfully attempting to appear sheepish, he replied, "Could'n hep it.  Me and my boys had some bizness to attend to."

Otis could figure what kind of business that was.  It was certainly nothing good.  "You're here now, so get to it.  You know what you got to do.  The way we talked about."

"No worries.  Gotchya covered, Pops," the tall young man reassured him.  Stripping out of his light fall jacket and carelessly tossing it aside he reached into the deep back pocket of his overly large jeans and retrieved his cell.   A smile played at the corners of his thick, luscious lips as he put it into camera mode and stepped closer to the fornicating threesome.

Marc heard the exchange but he was too cock stuffed to engage.  He figured the new arrival was the eldest Williams boy, Elijah's thug brother.  Hadn't seen Kareem in many years, not since they were both much younger.  Wasn't sure he'd know it was him if he bumped into him on the downtown streets.  Seemed to him he was going to get to know this other one very well.  Looked like Mr. Williams had set this whole thing up as a family event.  Far as Marc was concerned, the more the merrier.

He barely heard the click of the camera as Kareem moved in and took strategic shots of the action.  He was careful to avoid the faces of his father and brother, although that could easily be repaired in the edit.  He got in so close behind that he could practically feel the heat coming from the kid's asshole as he took close-up shots of his father's monster dick ramming in and out of the kid.  Stepping back he took a few long views where one could see the three of them going at it on the sofa.  With that one he would later have to pixel out Otis and Elijah's faces.  He moved in for short distance shots of his brother's nicely sized dick in the cute cocksucker's mouth.  But....waitaminute!

Kareem's face registered shock.  He knew this kid.  Had seem him before.  Downtown.  After dark.  At the train station.  It was late last winter.  Almost Spring.  There was a bit of a chill in the air, but it wasn't uncomfortable.  He and his boy Rashawn went down there to score some weed.  They wound up coming upon the dealers, five or six of them, fucking some white boy on the platform by the tracks.  They made their buy, smoked a little and got high enough to join the others.  Rashawn went first, praising the pussy on that boy.  When he shot his load Kareem jumped in.  The pussy was sloppy from all the loads it had taken but the kid sure knew what he was doing.  Even after taking all that dick, he clenched, milked and massaged Kareem's cock until he busted his nut and added to all the nikka spooge.

This was the same kid!  Kareem's cock had instantly sprung to full attention.  Freshly adrenalized he switched to video mode and shot live footage of the teen deep throating Elijah and then, with the camera still running, swung around to capture his father's ebony cock slamming the cracker's pussy.  The plan had been to put the boy's racist father in his place but Kareem was already considering more lucrative possibilities for this material.  There were pay sites on the internet where subscribers would eat this stuff up.  Why shouldn't he take advantage of the opportunity?

From the corner of his eye Marc saw the doo-ragged brother with his phone. "Smile for the camera, li'l white boy," Kareem encouraged flirtatiously.  Marc realized he was being photographed but there was little he could do about it.   He mumbled a garbled protest around Elijah's big prick, eliciting a chuckle from the older brother. 

Otis knew if he went on at this pace he'd be busting his nut soon.  He wanted this game to play out a lot longer.  Resisting the urge to continue he pulled out of Marc and stumbled away.  "'Lijah, get you up here and fuck this white boy," he gruffly ordered his son.  Elijah was more than ready to get some of Marc's ass.  While they were rivals on the basketball court, this would definitely get him one up on the other athlete.  Quickly he extracted his dripping cock from Marc's mouth and scurried over to the other end of the sofa.  Otis had stepped over, his big cock still throbbing, and effortlessly flipped Marc onto his back.  The teen slut automatically raised his legs and presented the pink puckered target to Elijah.

Elijah was all eagerness as he climbed into the driver's seat.  His first strike missed, resulting in a blunt jab to the other boy's perineum.  The second struck the bull's eye.  Elijah's teen dick sunk into Marc and slid up his pussy until it could go no farther.  Overwhelmed by the sensation Elijah sighed and shuddered.  Otis had flopped back into a nearby easy chair to casually stroke his dick while he watched his boy fuck the bigot's son.  Kareem continued documenting the event from his seated position on the armrest behind Marc.

Like most over-eager teens Elijah fucked as if he was running a race.  Marc laid there on his back and stroked his teen meat as Eli repeatedly drove his long dick all the way to the balls into his asshole.  He was glad Otis had brought the boy in on his ill-kept secret; now they could fuck all the time.  Marc devilishly clamped down on the pistoning shaft, heightening the sensations for both of them.  Marc's insides were soooooo hot and squirming around Eli's pounding shaft.  He hadn't that much experience, but Eli couldn't imagine anything else feeling so exquisite.

Fully aroused, having had enough of merely playing photographer and, with Marc's mouth currently unoccupied, Kareem opted to jump in before his father got any ideas of his own.  Placing his camera phone on the back of the sofa he rose and quickly stripped.  Kareem had a nicely muscular, but not overly built body.  His was all long, lean and smooth musculature:  a tightly cinched waist, etched abdominals, flared pecs and melon sized biceps.  His cock closely resembled his father's, a black beauty of proud dimension.  He slipped in behind Marc directly across from his younger brother, took him by the sides of his face to angle his head backward and introduced his meaty piece to the kid's panting mouth.  One look at the thick dick hovering over his face was all it took for Marc to scarf it down.  He held his jaws and throat wide open, allowing Kareem to sink into the wet hollow.  Kareem's fat ball bag was like silk nestled on his snorting nose.  At Shonda's (his sometimes bitch) request the thug man scraped his privates.  Although used to the abundantly hairy crotches of his bar clientele, smooth goods provided a nice change. 

Marc's mouth was so hot on his cock that Kareem had to savor the sensation for a while.  Although his brother was looking at him Kareem didn't think he even saw, for Elijah was lost in fuck ecstasy.  His eyes were glazed with lust.  The kid was fucking like a wild rabbit and would surely blow his load soon.  Not that it mattered.  At their age both Elijah and Kareem could cum and easily continue on to the next release.  Kareem had gotten off a record five times in Shonda's twat one night.  He wondered if he could exceed that with this Hauser boy.

Kareem pumped his meat through Marc's bulging gullet, impressed with the ease with which the kid took it.  Marc nuzzled the whole engorged length, nibbled on the thick underside and gulped it down with each forward thrust.  All sorts of obscene sucking and snorting sounds came from the athlete as he devoured every inch of thug meat while his asshole was being savagely drilled by another.  Marc's lips clawed at the base of his prick, as if he was trying to eat more.  The lad was insatiable!  Kareem wondered if he recognized him from that night at the train station.  Probably not.  It was dark and there were a lot of big black dicks taking turns at his pleasure holes.  But Kareem remembered him.  It was a fuck neither he nor his buddy Rashawn would soon forget. 

Marc's wet throat and warm tongue on his prick quickly had Kareem thrusting harder with his hips.  With each shove the huge head bore through the heated tightness of Marc's throat.  The teen's gullet was a thing of wonder, capable of stretching to accommodate the proportions of any dick.  Nearly eleven generous inches of black meat plunged through, making the boy almost light-headed.  Euphoria swept through him.  Two beautiful black brother cocks were causing him to squirm with ecstasy.  He heard the faint click of Kareem's camera as the young man held the camera down to his face, capturing memories of his dick buried in Marc's mouth.  And he didn't care.  He was beyond gleeful sucking on the prick sliding deep into his throat while the other skewered his pussy.

Regenerated, Otis was ready to get back into the action.  To the immediate dismay of all three he pulled his dogs off Marc, shoved the white boy aside and lay across the sofa.  Propped up on his elbows he instructed Marc to perch.  Needing no further encouragement Marc hastily climbed into the saddle.  As the sons lecherously watched Marc teased his own hole with the meaty, flared head before dropping dead weight upon it.  All of Otis' massive girth disappeared between the teen's tender ass lips in a flash.  The juicy shapely butt began bouncing on the black cock, butt lips pulled out every time he rose and stuffed back when he dropped.  He was fucking himself with the full ten and a half inches, from head to bushy base.  Hearing the click of Kareem's cam he casually looked back over his shoulder at the younger Williams brother.  Marc's emerald eyes were smoldering and his cute face radiated innocence. 

That single shot was enough to raise dicks everywhere.  It certainly wheted Kareem's already enhanced libido.  Circling behind the sofa he swung his long legs over the high back, rested his chocolate globes against the cushion and thrust out his randy tool in offering.  Marc swooped down on the ebony dick and swallowed it whole.  Kareem dug his fingers into the sofa, nearly losing his phone in the process.  Felt beyond incredible having his entire unit engulfed in tight, suctioning warmth.  Expert at multitasking, Marc continued to romp on Otis' meat while he bobbed on Kareem's handsome dick. 

Stroking himself while watching the others have all the fun wasn't enough for Elijah, who stepped onto the edge of the sofa facing his older brother and shoved his cock into Marc's face.  Not one to leave a dick unattended for long, Marc came off Kareem and sucked down Elijah's meat.  His nose burrowed into Eli's pubic patch as his throat and larynx muscles worked to siphon cream from the dick.  Soon he felt the other cock prodding at his cheek and he went back to work on it.  His head pivoted from one black dick to the other, slovenly gnawing his way down the throbbing pieces and embedding them deep in his caressing throat.

Otis got an underhanded grip on Marc's hamstrings and raised the boy's bouncing ass.  Holding him steady he began pumping his dick up into Marc's hot hole with short, fast strokes.  Otis was a strong man so it required little effort.  At the same time Marc had gobbled up both pricks and was swirling his wet tongue around and between the leaking crowns.  His lips were stretched to the point of splitting but Marc took a good portion of those black brother pricks into his gaping mouth while he man-handled their bloated ball bags.

Once again taking control of the play Otis directed Kareem to take a position behind Marc.  At the same time he grasped Marc by his trim flanks and pulled him down closer to his prone frame.  Kareem squatted above the boy, took his dick in hand and pressed it against his father's. With their thick underbellies touching he slowly and carefully slid himself into the already crowded hole.  As Marc's eyes rolled blissfully upward he let out a long, low wail.  Both black dicks pushed into his asshole simultaneously.  Deeper and deeper they ventured, stretching him impossibly wide.  Of course, it wasn't the first time he'd been double penetrated.  Marc was a teen slut, after all.  But there was something about these two that was deliciously different.

When their nearly-twin dicks were fully submerged Otis drew his back, paused and then slid in again.  Kareem picked up on the technique and began to do the same.  As his father pulled out, he shoved in; as he retreated, Otis penetrated.  Their movements became well synchronized and the tempo increased until they were literally pounding in and out of Marc's pink pussy.  Every few strokes both cocks dove in together, making Marc breathlessly gasp.  Elijah had taken over photography duties and was expertly capturing it all with his brother's phone cam.  His dick was leaking a steady stream of youthful pre-cum.  He wanted some more of that ass, too.

After a few moments of pondering Elijah got down on his side next to his lying father and nuzzled his dick up to Marc's gaping hole.  Squeezing a generous amount of lube from the nearby bottle onto the pistoning cocks, as well as his own, he pressed himself against them and rode them through Marc's ravaged sphincter.  The Williams men proceeded to fuck Marc in tandem.  There was never a moment when at least two dicks weren't gut deep in the boy at the same time.  Marc was in a fuck nirvana, hardly believing that his hole was handling three major sized cocks.  He shuddered whenever all of them crammed themselves nut deep inside.  For the Williamses, the sensation of father, brother and son cocks gliding along each other in the super tight, pulsing hole was hugely erotic. 

With his prostate repeatedly ravaged it was little surprise when Marc was the first to climax.  Lost in absolute bliss his tortured frame tingled all over, flashes of white light flashed before his eyes and he went into frenzied spasms as liquid fire erupted from his teen dick.  Cum spewed from his throbbing meat and coated Otis' muscular, heaving chest.  The three failed to relent, fucking Marc even harder through his orgasm.  His spasming asshole was doing all sorts of salacious things to their pumping cocks. 

The room was filled with husky moans as first Elijah, then Kareem followed by Otis exploded deep inside Marc Hauser.  Powerful jets of thick spunk exploded from each black dick to flood Marc's fucked-out hole.  Each of them groaned with pleasure as they unloaded their pent-up seed.  Otis was especially proud to be impregnating the bigot's son with black Williams babies.  His sons were chips off the old block, amply hung and full of cum.  What father could be prouder?           

   

Once their ejaculations ceased the brothers moved off Marc.  Otis wrapped his arms around the boy, who had fallen atop him with exhaustion.  His hands tenderly caressed the teen jock's panting frame, one venturing down between Marc's numb ass cheeks to finger his dripping hole. Shaking his head in wonder Kareem took a few final pics of three loads of cum oozing from the slut's wrecked asshole. 

Otis ordered Elijah to bed.  It was a school night, after all.  Before Otis retired for the evening he instructed Kareem to see Marc safely off.  Once he heard the basement door close Kareem hastily speed dialed a number.

"'Shawn, get da fuck over here right now, nikka.  Don't aks no questions.  What?  You with you brutha-in-law?  Tha's awright, bring him, too.  Use the side cellar door.  Hurry da fuck up."  Disconnecting the call he looked over at the cute white boy, all aglow in aftersex bliss.  A sinister smile spread across his handsome face.  The hole might have thought his evening was over but, in fact, it had only just begun.

Three days later Buck Hauser found the large manila envelope stuffed into his mail box after he completed his day shift at the bar.  Curiously, there was no return address.  Retrieving a beer from the fridge he kicked off his boots, plopped down on the sofa and opened the package.  His eyes went wide as he perused the collection of 8 x 10 glossies of his beloved son sucking and fucking three black men.  Their identities had been concealed but Buck instantly knew it was Otis Williams and his derelict sons.  Buck was both repulsed and aroused at the same time. He spread the photos across the already cluttered coffee table, shaking his head in disbelief.  Groping his crotch he leafed through them again and again.  Marc with two black dicks in his mouth.  Marc with two, then three big black dicks up his ass.  Marc leaking volumes of spooge from his gaping hole.  Had he been forced?  Or was his son a willing participant?  Buck thought he already knew the answer to those questions. 

There was after school practice today but Marc should be home shortly.  Buck unzipped his jeans, slid them down to his knees and sat there stroking his hard cock.  Waiting.