A Wizard's Succession 12

Mecho was roaring at the top of his lungs, when Stan kissed him deeply. He could taste him already. And he thought, Daddy tastes much better than this pig. His deep kiss made Mecho struggle even more, but the kid kissed in such a way that every exhale from his lips garnered an exhale from the kid, making them breathe in unison. His eyes rolled back, giving in from his base desires.

Taste the pain right on my tongue …

***

The confused lad tried to look up the solid, hairy torso, past the bulge of the man's pecks. The man gripped Stan’s head and their eyes locked. The kid felt so small by comparison. The veiny snake was swelling, stretching his inexperienced mouth wider and pushing the emerging head deeper. Stan felt it grow and tried to relax his throat to accommodate.

It didn’t.

He tried to gag, but Marx held him firmly. Last night seemed easier to take with the buzz of alcohol and porn gradually working their magic. Going full on so quickly now was proving more difficult. He should have been more discreet about doing it, he realized. He'd get whatever he deserved. The man nodded at him.

'That's the way … A bit slow getting there, but you're learning. Don't keep me waiting’ …'

The AC unit hummed gently, sending cold air within the room. But to Stan, it was choking him, and the cold air proved futile because he’s sweating like a bull. Worse, it’s cold sweat.

'You just hold it there and make it nice and wet, son. Feel your dad getting’ it hard for you ...’

Marx saw the terrified look in Stan’s eyes. He looked so cute.

‘Mmmm ... This is going to be fucking’ good, I promise you, kiddo ...'

The man looked down at the soft lips encircling his mature meat right at the base, at the lad's sexy, smooth skin. What a fucking horny sight. He'd almost forgotten what it was like being with her, though the porn kept reminding him, but this was surely as good as it was ever going to get in here. Dominating a cute straight lad came easily to him: same rules as the other, just rougher. The kid was certainly tough enough to take it. Wouldn't be much fun if he wasn't. He thought briefly of his own son who he'd not seen for a long while. What the hell would he look like now?

Something like him, maybe?

His aroused manhood pressed deeper and wider still. Stan gagged for a while now, but he somehow managed to bring the reflex under control, focusing his attention back down to the man's crotch, trying for an easier angle. The man very slowly began to hump his son's face with steady, unforgiving force. The lad gripped his dad's firm, hairy legs for reassurance as he sought to keep the gag reflex at bay. He could already imagine his skin ripping apart.

'Yeah ... You fucking’ take that nice and deep, son. This is what it's all about. When your old man wants something’, he gets it, know what I'm saying’?'

Stan moaned and nodded eagerly as he watched the thick shaft being plunged repeatedly in. His well-hard dad was giving it to him all over again, just like he'd said he would. That thick meaty weapon slamming into his mouth, the grim reality of prison. He felt utterly powerless.

Desperate.

Horny.

'Feeling’ real good, kiddo. Real good. My dick’s just made to fuck your mouth. You want another load of your daddy's tasty cum, don't you?'

Another moan and nod from below. Stan's own dick stiffened some more in his crunchy boxers. He felt dirty and alive. His jaw ached already. The man was working up the speed now, fucking his son's face with serious intent. The lad kept his lips tightly encircled around the fleshy torpedo, willing the maximum pleasure for his mean dad, wanting the creamy juice to blast out and fill his gob as soon as possible.

'Take it, son. You know you fucking’ want it. You fucking take it,' the man nearly spat the words out.

Stan began to struggle under the increasingly aggressive onslaught, every inch of the monster dick now ramming his throat mercilessly. His tough-nut dad was fucking his face like an animal. This was really happening.

Have to take it ...

Somehow ...

A rough restraining hand kept his head locked in place. No escape, Stan. Was this really what you wanted? He gripped the hairy legs even harder thinking he might pass out.

Please dad, please ...

***

Mecho felt his lips going numb, his thoughts fleeting away. He couldn’t think clearly. Every sensation he felt was intensified by a deeper hunger and longing. But what is it?

Slowly riding him, Stan delved deeper into passion. He took a peek, seeing Mecho’s eyes closed shut. He could feel his buddy’s struggling has abated. He knew the struggle will soon be over.

Up.

Down.

Slowly but surely.

Hard.

Gently.

Squeeze it so that he couldn’t resist it.

He’s getting closer than ever, his cock getting more and more rock hard, throbbing like there’s no tomorrow. The lad could feel his buddy’s blood flowing his entire body, his big fat-laden body trembling in anticipation.

There was a slight shuffling of snow just right outside. That made Stan toned his humping down to an excruciatingly slow halt. Mecho was struggling madly from the intense edging sensation, when he failed to notice the lad curling up his black underwear and stuffed it in his mouth. He felt his arms freed for a moment from the vice like grip, when he felt them once more, his voice muffled.

‘Hey!’ the voice hissed, ‘Mecho! Are you alright?’

It was Yrian.

‘Mecho, buddy! You okay?’

Stan’s heart was racing.

Now what?

***

Unexpectedly, Marx stopped his assault and moved slightly back to remove his erect manhood. It glistened with saliva in the morning light, fully aroused and dangerous. Stan, dumbstruck, stared in pained amazement at his dad's slick meat. So fucking intense is the size of it. Hands free once more, he absent-mindedly rubbed himself through his pants, his dick jerking in satisfaction at the attention. Yeah, that felt good. He looked up at the auburn-haired muscle man towering over him, saw the menacing expression on the rough, stubbled face, the thick neck, the brute strength in those tattooed arms, and the huge breadth of the man's firm, tattooed, hairy chest...

Sheer rock-hard masculinity.

Submit, Stan, submit.

'Lick it, son. All of it.'

Stan, still looking up at his dad, started to do as he was told, casting his tongue all around the shiny engorged head. The man nodded approvingly at what seemed to be a pleading expression on the lad's face for affirmation that he was doing it right. The mighty shaft jerked as his tongue reached the sensitive underside, a wordless rumble of pleasure emanating from above. The lad worked his way down one side in a frenzy, under and back up the other.

His dad is definitely a man’s man. A growl of approval was all he got.

'Mmmm ... You like the taste of your dad's meat, don't you kiddo?'

Stan paused, a trail of saliva hanging from his open mouth on to the rigid tool.

'Yeah,' he muttered.

He resumed his task from hairy base to shiny head, reaching up to steady it with his hand as his tongue and lips did their duty. The man stared with intense satisfaction. He could see the lad was loving it now, worshipping his dad's hard meat as only a son could. He clenched his fists and admired his own well-worked out body. Yeah. He was the fucking man. The lad looked up, awaiting further instruction.

A finger pointing down, yet the lad knew what his dad meant.

Eagerly obeying, the lad gripped the solid tree-trunk legs once more and thrust his face to the underside of the man's crotch. The heady masculine scent again filled his nostrils, his tongue now working overtime on the hairy sacks. He caught the groove between balls and thigh and there was a grunt of pleasure from above. He repeated the action, eager to please his dad, pushing his tongue deeper still into the sweaty gap, and going for the other side likewise. His smooth face was soon covered with crotch sweat and his own saliva.

The man began to wank his dick as the lad continued to tongue around his balls. Stan imagined the spunk there ready so close to his tongue. He lapped away urgently, his entire field of vision filled with male sex. The animal heat engulfed his face.

***

He could hear the footsteps getting louder.

Stan glared at Mecho, and hissed, ‘If Yrian finds out about this, what will he say to you, eh? Want him to discover this escapade of ours?’

Mecho shook his head furiously.

‘Then make him go away!’

The lad gently removed the gag, and then Mecho spoke, ‘What the fuck are you doing, Yrian?!’

The shuffling noise disappeared.

‘I heard you screaming at the top of your lungs, buddy!’ was his hoarse reply, ‘What’s going on?’

Mecho fumbled for words, ‘I-I … I-I-I just had a nightmare, that’s all …’

Stan smirked as he saw Mecho getting nervous. He’s obviously scared beyond hell. His breathing, although controlled, he could see small spasms in between gasps.

‘I-I-I’m fine, buddy … J-just go to sleep, p-please …’

‘If you say so …’ Yrian replied, ‘Sleep tight …’

They could both hear the footsteps go away from their tent. As they listened for Yrian’s tent to zip up, Stan once again assaulted Mecho with a deep kiss that made the jolly bear moan like there’s no tomorrow …

***

The man continued to pleasure himself as the teenager nuzzled into his nuts. The kid really was into it. Too into it, perhaps...

Maybe he wasn't straight after all?

That wouldn't do.

Gazing down through an angry red mist of dominating lust, he roughly pushed Stan's head away from nut duty and back to the head of his fearsome fuck muscle, released once more from his iron grip to target the lad's face.

'You want some more, son? You fucking' want some more?'

'Yeah. Please Dad.’

The lad was transfixed by his dad's mighty tool, imagining the damage it was going to do to him.

'Fucking tell me then. What do you want?'

Stan paused. It was one thing going with the flow and letting his dad tell him what to do, it was another thing entirely to admit out loud that he wanted it. He just wanted to please his dad. He mumbled, embarrassed.

‘I want your dick, dad.'

'Do not mumble.'

'I want your fat juicy dick, dad.'

'And?'

'I want to taste your milk again.'

The lad looked as confused as he felt. He didn't really want those things. Or did he? His whole sense of identity was being crushed. He wanted his dad.

The man sensed the teenager's discomfort and belatedly remembered the hungry glow in the teenager's eyes when he read the porn mag, the immediate boner in the lad's boxers at the sight of some tits and pussy. So he was straight. Just VERY keen to please. That was fair enough. All the same, he wanted to spice things up ...

'Sure you're no homo, kiddo?'

Startled, the boy looked up. Another wave of shame ran through him. He had to deny it - it wasn't true.

'No way, d-dad ... No way.'

'So why do you want it then, huh?’

There was no response.

‘Huh?!’

The threat in the voice was unmistakable.

Stan's mouth went completely dry and fear gripped him. This didn't make any sense. He'd been forced into it. It wasn't his fault. His dick limped in terror and the vulnerability of his position made his stomach lurch.

'I-I … I don't ...'

'You just fucking TOLD me that you want my DICK! You think I’m deaf, kid?!'

Stan couldn’t bear to look straight into his eyes, so he looked back at the monster tool hanging there in front of face, taunting him. He had to admit defeat; he wanted it in his mouth again. He had to go with the flow.

'I-I-I … I-I’m sorry, d-dad … I-It’s j-just …'

‘Just what?!’

‘It … It’s j-just that … that I-I-I … I love having y-your dick … I-in my mouth …’ was his meek reply, on the verge of tears. He finally said to himself, I just went fucking homo.

He waited for a kick or a punch.

There was none.

‘Maybe you want more than that then, huh?'

Stan suddenly looked up. ‘You know what I think? I think you want to get fucked by your old man here. I think you want to take it like a bitch in heat …'

The lad's heart raced, fear and desire merging so that he no longer knew which was which. Get fucked by his dad? His imagination ran wild and hot for a moment over forbidden territory. Getting homo, for real. Nasty.

Brutal.

Definitely a rough man’s love.

'You want to go all the way with me?'

The man's question hung in the air unanswered. Stan stared once more at the enormous veiny weapon in front of his face. Imagined it sliding in ...

Deep ...

The muscular arms pinning him down ...

The heaviness of his big daddy’s breath in each thrust …