Date: Sun, 5 Feb 2012 12:56:40 -0800 (PST)
From: sammy garvin <troublefunk101@yahoo.com>
Subject: Armenian Dad

DISCLAIMER: The use of the word `retard' in this story in no way reflects
my attitude toward the differently abled.  Also, this is fantasy.  Don't
try this at home.

Armenian Dad
By Sammy Garvin, troublefunk101@yahoo.com

Brian Conley stood at the door of the Hartunian residence, a tidy 2-story
mission-style house situated on Fountain and Harvard in the Little Armenia
neighborhood of Los Angeles.  He had responded to the Craigslist posting
searching for a caregiver for a 15 year old mildly retarded boy who lived
with his recently widowed father and was home from school for the summer.
Brian needed this job.  As a morbidly obese gay man living in Hollywood
work was hard to come by. He was considered singularly unattractive: a mop
of curly auburn hair topped off his cabbage patch head, framed with a
copper-toned beard which tended to obscure his lush, cherubic mouth.  Piggy
little eyes peered out at the world under quizzical bushy, untamed
eyebrows.  His face was constantly flushed and huffing as his pudgy fingers
tugged at his whiskers.  At 41, he had never had a boyfriend and he still
lived at home with his mother. Much of his days were spent surfing the web
on a never-ending quest for porn.  He was a fat, nasty little man.

He rang the bell again and soon enough the door opened.  There in the
doorway stood Tigran Hartunian, the father of young David.  Brian literally
gasped.  Mr. Hartunian stood 6'3" and was 230 lbs. of rugged, beefy,
hirsute Armenian man.  Perpetual stubble covered his swarthy, handsome face
practically up to his hooded, flashing-black, piercing eyes.  Wavy, thick,
jet-black hair combed neatly and parted to the side and the bushiest
eyebrows Brian had ever seen on a man took his breath away. Hartunian's
upper lip disappeared under a massive black moustache worthy of a Russian
dictator and the rest of his cruel mouth seemed permanently set in a scowl
as his jaws worked assiduously.  Brian found that he was simultaneously
intimidated and turned on by this vision of brute masculinity clad in a
snug Men's Wearhouse business suit.  Tigran waved him inside with his
massive meathook of a hand.  Brian smelled cheap aftershave as he scuttled
past the big man on into the cool comfort of the house.

Tigran urged Brian to sit at the dining room table alongside young
sleepy-eyed David who sat organizing baseball cards with unwavering
concentration.  An Angels cap was perched and cocked jauntily atop his
non-descript, standard-issue Opie-style haircut.  Tigran explained in a
thick Armenian accent that the boy could not be bothered with anything that
didn't have something to do with baseball.  Baseball was his life.  Brian
barely heard for he was busy raping the boy with his piggy little eyes.
David was too wholesome to be believed, as if he had stepped directly out
of a 50's sitcom.  His slow, deliberate movements, his cock-eyed smile as
he picked a card he particularly liked, his tight little boy-body flush
with transformative testosterone, those sweet, damaged brown eyes...it all
worked for Brian Conley.  He just couldn't wait to molest this hot little
critter.  Nothing serious of course, just a casual hand down his underwear
and/or a peek at his ass.  From what Tigran was saying, David didn't speak
but rather mumbled gibberish or squealed with delight.  Brian nodded and
smiled like a good little applicant and much to his surprise he was hired
on the spot.  He could start tomorrow if he liked.

He liked.  Oh yes, he definitely liked.

The next day Brian waddled from the bus to the Hartunian residence only to
find that Tigran was in a foul mood and David was in tears.  Apparently
David had wet the bed and although this was nothing serious, Mr. Hartunian
had rolled his eyes and expressed exasperation which had hurt the young
boy's feelings.  David's dad had stripped the bed and had the boy change
into a fresh pair of underwear.  Could Brian do a load of laundry?  Of
course, Brian acquiesced with false sporting good cheer while he mentally
tongue-fucked Tigran's musky, hot, hairy asshole.  The way those slacks
framed the sturdy haunches on that man made his evil little dick throb in
his FTLs.  Hartunian felt Brian's eyes devour his ass and then he turned to
face him Brian, scanning him head-to-toe, as if he noticed his new
caregiver's faggoty fat visage for the very first time.  He knit his brows
in a scowl of sheer judgement then he snatched his briefcase from off the
couch and hustled on out the door.

Brian hauled his fat ass up the stairs to look for David but only after a
little trip to Mr. Hartunian's hamper to hunt for some well-worn underwear.
He made his way down to the room at the end of the hall, a lair fit for a
Lion King, a stud-duck of Tigran Hartunian's formidable stature.  His
feeble heart raced as he scoured the room for a hamper or a casually
discarded pair of briefs.  He bee-lined it for the closet and rummaged
through the wicker hamper and sure enough -- Tigran was a briefs man.
Hanes tightie-whities in fact.  But alas, after a deep, investigative
sniff, Brian figured that Tigran must rotate briefs daily for there was
virtually no scent, no pube, not even a ghost of a skid, just bleached
white purity.  Curiously annoyed, Brian knew now that to satisfy his lust
he would have to depants the boy and check out his cock and ass.  His
photographic memory would serve him later when he got home for a heated pud
tug.  He shuffled back down the hall and found David sitting indian-style
in the middle of his room, baseball cap askew on his head of course, once
again organizing his baseball cards on the carpet -- in underwear and a
plain white t-shirt.

Brian's eyes bugged.

The boy's legs were surprisingly sturdy, tawny and dusted with fine hairs.
His Hanes For Boys cradled a man-size package.  Brian's mouth watered and
his fat body jiggled with lust as David looked up at him with those
heavy-lidded moist, brown eyes from down there on the floor.  He waved a
little three-fingered wave at him and smiled a cock-eyed smile.  Brian knew
right then and there that he'd have to get this kid out of his underwear
now or he'd simply die of sexual frustration.

"David. I'm doing a load of laundry right now.  Why don't you take your
underwear off so I can wash those and we'll get you into a fresh pair."

David inadvertantly displayed his plump, cotton-swaddled nutsack as he
followed orders and clambered to his feet.  Without hesitation, he slid his
briefs down his thighs and calves and ankles and stepped out of them.  His
prick bounced and swung as he stood there shyly in front of his brand new
caregiver in only a t-shirt and baseball cap.  Brian Conley was so fucking
horned up he lost all sense of professionalism and propriety.

"Turn around.  Let me see your butt." Brian commanded.

David giggled a little and turned around.  His asscheeks were two handfuls
of baby fat and dimpled muscle but his crack was lined with manly fuzz,
especially around the deep crevice of his asshole.  Brian stepped over to
collect the underwear, never once taking his eyes off that ass.

"Get on all fours on the bed.  Like a dog."  Brian was dead serious and
David sensed that.

He did as he was told and as he did so, his scrotum hung and swung
buoyantly between under his hairy asscrack as it spread naturally and
revealed itself for Brian's delectation.  David grunted and squealed a
little while smiling to himself: They were going to play a naughty, fun
game.  Brian marveled at how easily this all seemed to sit with young
David.  He gasped for breath and dropped to his knees, knee-walking to the
vortex between David's feet and calves.  He was going to stick his tongue
into David's gaping asscrack.  He was going to mouth-rape his hole.
Nothing was going to stop him.  He grasped the cheeks and spread them with
his opposing stubby little thumbs.  The pucker was brown and glistening,
collared with hair and tight as a drum.  It winked at him as David balked
at whatever invasion was about to occur.  Seeing that the ass before him
was relatively clean he set to lapping at the perimeter with his fat
tongue.

Upon feeling the wet warmth fill his cleft like a Wet-One wiping his ass
but infinitely softer, David yipped like a puppy and then settled into a
gentle, humid rimjob with cooing "ahhhs".  Brian's pudgy mitts spread the
ass wide as his whiskers tickled the boy's hind end and his tongue painted
the relaxing hole with saliva.  David steadied himself with one arm as the
other hand shyly muffled embarrassed chuckling at the fact that his nasty
butt was in this man's face.  The hot mouth lapping at his quivering poop
chute felt good alright but his dad never did this to him, nor did anyone
else so this had to be pretty weird.

The boy's butt smelled musky and lived-in and sat-on and lightly sweaty but
not at all shitty.  These Hartunians were a clean people.  Fat-ass Brian
Conley couldn't predict when an opportunity like this would present itself
ever again so as he licked and tongue-fucked with gusto his mind scrambled
and plotted: should he insert his evil little pecker in this tight hairy
ass?  He figured his ginormous pale gut would prevent successful entry. He
could stick a fat little finger or three up this boy's tight little ass and
approximate the experience.  He decided he would make this boy cum.

"Now get on your back, David."

David did so without question and instinctively drew his knees up to his
chest, once again presenting his hairy hole to the stranger.  Amazingly,
the baseball cap remained perched on his round little head, bill skewed to
the side.  Brian took his place on his knees between the boys upended
thighs.

"No, no.  I'm going to put your weiner in my mouth and I'm going to suck on
it until you squirt."

David nodded a curt manly little nod and touched the bill of cap, pointing
it outwards and forward as if he was signaling to the third-base coach.

"Spread your legs wide, David."

And so David rose up to his elbows on his stripped bed and splayed his legs
into a `v' with his heels on the edge of the mattress as his new caregiver
leaned forward to suckle the tumescent boy-pork into his fat, wet mouth.
David squealed with delight as the tongue tickled the shit out of the tip
of his dick.  He had never felt anything like this before.  His poppa never
sucked his dick until it squirted.  Brian shoved two sausage fingers up 15
year-old David Hartunian's furry, clenching asshole roughly as the kid
yelped in protest.  David's sphincter clenched convulsively and tried in
vain to expel the unwelcome invaders but all at once his caregiver
discovered his prostate as he prodded and poked it causing the twitching
penis in his porcine, drooly mouth to pound and pulse to full throbbing
erection. The sensation up David's ass was warm and familiar so he relaxed
and let it happen as the fat man's warm wet tongue assaulted his cockhead
with ticklish little flutters.  He helplessly moaned and coo-ed and mumbled
gibberish while the man on knees between his legs bobbed his head up and
down on his thing.  His hips bucked and rocked at the fat face that seemed
so hellbent on tickling the fuck out of his ding-dong.  Suckling, slurping
noises filled the air as horny, out-of-his-mind Brian Conley attempted to
coax and wheedle a thick load of teen-jizz out of this retard's nutsac.  He
rammed his bare ring-finger up the boy's asshole eliciting a shriek and a
sphincter-cinch so now three fingers stretched his hole.  Finally, at last,
David's pulsating, straining cock spasmed and flexed as his balls retracted
into his pelvis and his semen splattered into Brian's humsucking
mouth. David bucked as his cock spewed astringent sperm in great pulsing
gobs.  Brian couldn't believe the sheer volume of this kid's goo package.
He struggled to choke the viscous batch down his gullet and he moaned
through his nose at the sheer perversion of sucking off a hot, sexy teenage
retard with an incredible ass to orgasmic release in his mouth.

Brian sucked the dick dry as it went limp in his now thickly-coated mouth.
David was a whimpering, quivering mess on the mattress, his asshole still
shuddering snugly around the fat man's thick, probing fingers.  Brian
withdrew them all at once leaving David's hole slack and yawning.  He
sniffed them and -- yup -- they certainly reeked of boy-ass.  He gulped
and swallowed the lingering slimy remnant of cum that coated his throat as
he struggled to his feet. He patted the boy's shank and urged him to get up
and into the shower.  David nodded sportingly and heaved himself up and
onto his feet athletically as though nothing at all had happened.  Brian
watched as that delicious, undulating bubble ass ambled all bow-legged and
duck-footed down the hall to the bathroom.  He once again took a whiff of
his ass-y fat little fingers and sprang an evil little chubby once again.

The rest of the day unfolded uneventfully.  David studied the sports page
at the dining room table and then watched an afternoon game on television
in the living room and Brian beat off in the washroom while re-living the
morning's blowjob in his feverish evil little brain.  Then he folded
laundry and sat around until Mr. Hartunian returned home from work.  Tigran
looked grave as he set his briefcase down on the couch, shucked his suit
jacket and rolled up his sleeves.  His jaw was set and his black eyes were
flashing fire.

"Can I talk to you for moment in the kitchen?"

Brian nodded in accordance as his thundering heart sank to his shoes.  What
did Mr. Hartunian know?  Was he psychic?  Brian followed him into the
kitchen, his eyes glued to his majestic ass.

"You are faggot, yes?  Don't you lie to me."

Brian tugged nervously at his whiskers but stood his ground.  Of course he
was a faggot.  Just look at him!

"Yes, I'm queer as hell, Mr. Hartunian.  Is that a problem?"

Tigran seethed and clenched his jaws.

"You touch the boy?"

"No, sir."

"Step into laundry room here."

"Are you going to hurt me, Mr. Hartunian?"

"Shut up."

Tigran stalked into the laundry room and waved Brian in with the wave of
his huge hairy, meathook hand.  Brian followed his directive, scared out
his wits.  The Armenian scanned the fatman, head-to-toe, and sneered.  He
then reached for his belt buckle and unfastened it.

"Get on your knees and suck my cock or I fucking fire you."

Hartunian was obviously agitated as he unzipped and tugged his snug slacks
down past his swarthy, tree-trunk thighs revealing cock-swaddling
tightie-whities and the erection barely contained therein.  He'd been
thinking of blowjobs all day at the office.  That, or he simply had a bad
day.  Fat fucking Brian Conley was shocked out of his shoes and MORE than
happy to oblige.  He dropped with some effort down to his knees, relaxed on
his haunches and sat there with his mouth agape, ready to receive cock.
Tigran hooked his thumb inside the waistband of his briefs and yanked them
down to reveal his flushed, angry dink.  He gripped himself and pointed his
tool at the fatman's juicy mouth and as he did so, Brian leaned forward and
engulfed the flared cockhead into his moist, gaping pie-hole.  Tigran
shuddered and bounced on the heels of his Thom McAn loafers as the tongue
lapped transparent ooze from his piss-slit.  The cocksucker reached behind
the Armenian and tried to feel up his meaty, flexing asscheeks but to no
avail.  Hartunian wasn't having that kind of faggoty foreplay so he swatted
those hands away.  Instead he grabbed Brian by his hair, braced himself by
spreading his legs shoulderwidth-wide and forced the mouth up and down on
his cock.

"Suck me, you fucking faggot."

Brian slurped and tongued frantically as the fat cock rammed itself past
his gag-reflex.  His shaft-veins throbbed mightily as Tigran withdrew his
pecker from the throat and threw a bunny-fuck to the skull at his
fingertips, stimulating the fuck out of his taut cockhead.  As Tigran
grunted and huffed and his face went flush with blood and heat, David
wandered in from the living room to investigate what all the racket was
about.  Tigran panted to the point of hyperventilation as the fatman teased
and edged the throbbing fat cock in his mouth.  He sensed that a certain
someone was watching.

"Get out.  Go on, get out of here, David."

David shyly guffawed as his dad flexed his mighty asscheeks and grunted
like a wild animal for he knew exactly what was happening inside his
father's scrotum.

"Ohshit.  Ohshit.  Not yet."

Brian felt the tension in Tigran's thighs and proceeded to nurse on that
cock like a suckling calf.

"DAVID GET OUT!"

But it was too late.  Mr. Hartunian's sac contracted and his dick strained
urgently inside the humid confines of the cocksucker's unrelenting mouth.
The Armenian dug his fingers painfully into the wheezing faggot's skull as
he unleashed a torrent of scalding cum into the wet suckhole.

"AAAAAAARRRRR FUUUUCKKK!!"

David was transfixed by his father's clenching, shuddering buttocks,
partially obscured by his pinstriped dress shirt.  His dad was his hero and
seeing him this vulnerable as the stranger tickled his weiner was
fascinating.

Never before had Brian Conley been force-fed such a tremendous load of
semen.  He practically gagged on the clot of sperm so forcefully disgorged
into his mouth.  He struggled to gulp it all down.  It was as if Hartunian
hadn't nutted in years.  He wanted more and more but his new boss'
sensitized cock couldn't handle any more tongue action or sucking sensation
so Tigran pulled his flaccid cock out of the soft wetness and shook off the
excess drool and cum onto the tile floor as he supported himself on the
dryer, utterly relieved and depleted.  He glanced behind him to see if his
son was still there.  He wasn't.

"You know you are phenomenal cocksucker."

"I know."  Brian huffed as he struggled to his feet.

"I have many, many women but never had blowjob like that before."

Brian just wanted a little less conversation and a glass of water to chase
all the cum clogging his throat but he didn't know how to ask for it --
what with all that semen clogging his larynx.

Tigran tucked his slack cock back into his underwear and yanked up his
slacks.

"Since my wife die, when I need a tight hole or a mouthfuck, I fuck my
retarded son."

Brian gazed up at the tall, strapping Armenian as he loosened his tie.  He
couldn't believe what he just heard but then again he just sucked the man's
cock so anything was possible at this point.

"What I'm gonna do.  Catch the crud from a hooker?"

Brian shook his head `yes' in disbelief.

"You want see me have sex with my son?"

Brian couldn't believe his eyes or ears but nodded enthusiastically
regardless.

"um, sure, why not?"

Tigran gazed at him with those piercing black-eyes, his arms folded across
his heaving chest.

"I take him aggressively.  I stick it where I like but I don't hurt him."

Brian's fat shook with horny intrigue.

"I believe you."

"You come by here after church, Sunday at eleven and you'll see.  I leave
the front door unlocked."

Brian agreed to stop by to pay witness to this most egregious of sins with
a curt nod and a smile.  He had to excuse himself to go home and rub
himself raw at the mere thought of this proposal.

Sunday.  Brian Conley lingered at the bus stop waiting to spot the
Hartunians as they returned home from church.  Sure enough, as the eleven
o' clock bells rang out, Tigran and his son, still with a California Angels
baseball cap perched on his head, strolled down the street in white dress
shirts, ties and black slacks.  Tigran glanced around and spotted Brian at
the bus-stop.  He gave a high-sign, waved him off and then indicated ten
minutes with all of his meaty fingers before he rounded the corner and
bounded up the porch steps.  Brian waited a bit and then some more hoping
to walk in on some hot action, mid-scene.  Eight minutes later he crossed
the street and huffed and puffed his way up the porch steps.  The front
door was unlocked so he knew at once that this was really going to happen
right in front of his piggy little eyes.

There was movement upstairs so he silently creeped up to the second floor.
He heard voices coming from David's room so he waddled halfway down the
hall to where the door was cracked just a hair.  He peered around the door
and into the room.  There stood Tigran, arms akimbo, legs spread
authoritatively as David sat on the edge of his bed thumbing through a
baseball game souvenir program.  It sounded as though Mr. Hartunian was
reprimanding his son for whatever reason.  And then Tigran reached down and
unzipped.  David glanced up and then down at his dad's member.

"Put this in your mouth."  Brian plainly heard.

David shook his head `no' but then let his mouth go slack as his eyes
squeezed shut. His dad stepped forward and waggled his dick at the boy from
his open fly.  Tigran put his right leg on the bed, thrust his hips forward
and guided the boy's mouth to the business at hand by gripping his neck and
pulling him forward.  The souvenir program slipped from the boy's lap as he
focused on following his dad's directive and allowing his mouth to pleasure
his fat, thickening dick.

"Unnhhhh."  Hartunian groaned as he held his son's face still while he
leisurely fucked it.  Brian was mesmerized by the underwear lines outlining
the older man's beefy ass in bas relief to those cheap slacks as he humped
and fucked his retarded son's drooling mouth.

"ooo yeah.  Suckit, Daveyboy."  Brian crept into the room silently and
watched from his place on the floor as Mr. Hartunian pistoned his cock in
and out of young David's mouth with one leg up on the bed and one hand
gripping the boy's neck, guiding the action.  David sucked and moaned and
breathed through his nose.

After several minutes of wet, sloppy face-fucking, David's dad removed his
boner from the boy's mouth and urged the boy to stand up and get undressed.
David did so but not fast enough, so Tigran loosened the boy's tie,
unbuttoned his dress shirt and yanked the boy's dress slacks down over his
briefs and black socks and then kicked off his own shoes and shucked his
pants and slid his underwear down past his knees as he pushed the boy in
his ballcap back onto the bed and jerked his legs up and over his head so
that he could mount him and fuck the shit out of him with his sopping wet,
rock-hard throbbing dick.  David whined but not in pain as his hulking
father, still in his dress shirt, pants down around his knees, climbed on
top of him all the while poking his cock at his son's tight, hairy asshole.
Brian watched in breathless fascination as Mr. Hartunian's perfectly round,
meaty ass flexed with every failed attempt to insert his big dick into his
son's upended ass.  Finally he gobbed into his palm and reached down to
smear it on the boy's hole for lubrication and then he lined up his cock
with the boy's anus and lunged forward, mounting his son completely and
ramming his dick up there with one swift motion.

David bellowed.  Mr. Hartunian groaned profoundly and deeply with great
satisfaction.  He humped gently at first as his hairy ass ground into the
teenager's hips, rising up and down with rolling fuckmotion until the
clenching shit-chute got the better of him and he rose up onto his muscular
arms and fucked the kid's asshole like a lion king.  Soon his dress-shirt
was soaked with sweat while his son gurgled and coo-ed helplessly
underneath him, his prostate relentlessly abused by his father's churning
dickmeat.  Fat fucking Brian crawled stealthfully bedside to get an
up-close and personal look at Mr. Hartunian's hairy ass and fuzzy nutsac as
the fucking seemed to reach a groaning, bed-wrecking, spring-popping
climax.  David's dad was an animal as he sought in earnest to drive home a
searing load up his son's tight little ass.  The sound of his sac slapping
against ass filled the room.

"...tight little fucking ass...tighten that hole around my cock...TIGHTEN
THAT FUCKING HOLE!!"  Hartunian shouted at his son's tensed up, sleepy-eyed
adorable face.

Once again, young David followed directions and concentrated on clenching
his asshole around the pistoning shaft of his father's cock.  As he did so,
Hartunian Senior seemed to choke on his tongue and his face flushed beet
red.  His whole body went stiff as his ample sac cramped while he fired
volley after volley of searing semen up his 15 year-old son's asshole.
Shot after shot soaked little David's guts.

"Oh my god that's good."  Tigran wheezed and shuddered as he fucked and
humped the last of his load up the boy's juicy, spasming fuckhole.  After
he was finally spent he rested heavily atop the boy's body until the kid
whined in complaint.  Finally the elder Hartunian pulled out of that hot,
sopping wet hole and rolled off as young David's legs unfolded and
stretched from resting astride his dad's broad shoulders for the duration
of the fuck.  Hartunian wiped the shit and sperm off of his dick with his
shirt and then got up on his knees instructing the hefty caregiver to give
suck to his son's cock.

"Get over here and suck his dick, fat-ass."

Brian couldn't believe that any of this was happening.  The butchest man he
had ever encountered was on a cum-stained mattress with his pants down
around his knees, cock out and swinging between his massive swarthy thighs,
instructing him to suck his 15-year old retarded son's dick.  On a Sunday
after church, no less.  He'd never have to surf for porn again because this
would feed his jack-off fantasies for the rest of his life.  He knee-walked
over to the boy as he spread his legs into a `v', showcasing his swollen
pecker, pudgy ballsac and damp, fuzzy asshole.  That cock-eyed grin and
those sleepy brown eyes signified that he knew what he was in for.  Brian
situated himself bedside between those legs and just as he dove in for the
suck, Tigran pushed him away and decided the job would be more appropriate
for the kid's dad.  With fat fucking Brian out of the way, Hartunian
replaced him, crouching on his meaty hairy haunches, slacks and underwear
bunched up just under his knees.  He roughly spread the boy's legs, pinning
them to the mattress and straight away suckled David's dink into his hot,
wet mouth -- administering a rough, amateurish blow job without nuance or
tongue play, just raw sucking.  David watched his dad from under heavy,
pleasure-dulled lids. He mumbled unintelligible gibberish as he futzed with
the cap still on his head.  Brian's porcine eyes were glued to the older
man's beefy, round ass as it spread just above the soles of his church
shoes.  His shirt-tails obscured the furry small of the man's back and the
upper portion of his manly ass, but the hair-choked sweet spot was revealed
in all its dank, muggy glory. Wet swirls of hair were matted around the
perimeter of his pucker and all up and especially down the crevice of his
crack obscuring his taint and drawing the eye along the bulging curve of
his ass-ham to his now depleted, bull-esque scrotum.  The room smelled of
ass musk, jism and sweat.  Brian couldn't contain himself any longer, he
just had to eat that man's ass.  He got down like a dog snuffling the grass
for bitch scent and as the back of Tigran's head bobbed in and out of view
between his thick heaving trapezoids, Brian Conley shoved his snout in the
Armenian's anal cleft and inhaled deeply.  It was a clean, natural funk,
tangy and ripe so he set to tickling the man's hole with the very tip of
his fluttery tongue.  The hole contracted upon contact and Hartunian
grunted in protest but after several seconds of reverential lapping and
licking, he spread his knees and stuck his ass out for easier access.  His
heavy testicles heaved and juggled in their dark brown sac.  Things were
getting desperate up upon the mattress as David's gibberish rose an octave
and became progressively louder.  Whining, adolescent moans mingled with
Tigran's urgent respiration, guttural grunting and wet suctioning. Brian
expanded coverage to include all of the 48 year-old banker's asscrack and
nutsac as David grabbed his dad's lush head of hair with one hand and the
bill of his ballcap with the other.  His sweet, boyish face crumpled
dramatically as a ringing filled his ears and a fierce orgasm swept him
away to Anaheim Stadium where Francisco Rodriguez starts on the mound
facing off against the hated New York Yankees. The crowd roars, the noise
deafening as his six-inch dick flared and flexed in the hot, moist confines
of his father's mouth.  Fireworks light up the evening sky as thick cum
rockets then pulses then dribbles out of his exhausted peener.  His
father's virile paw had been fingering the boy's nuts, chode and slackened
asshole and now stroked his shuddering thigh as he came down from the
stands and onto the field to wave at the cheering masses.  Brian's beard,
now reeking of ass, and tongue was still pleasuring Tigran Hartunian's
widespread butt and pendulous sac as he swallowed the globular remains of
David's load. Oddly moved by all of what transpired in his son's bedroom on
this day, he collapsed into his boy's waist and hugged him tightly to
himself as David, spent and happy, stroked his father's hair.

Brian Conley merely grunted hoggishly as he buried even more of his bovine
face into the Armenian's tingling, bulbous ass.