Date: Fri, 20 Aug 2004 02:51:58 +0200
From: Xerxys Hunter <writer_xerxys@hotmail.com>
Subject: Because of the Library Part One

This is a story I began to write a little while ago. This, Part One,
contains relatively little sex action, so isn't suitable for those of you
looking to get yourselves in a mess.

DISCLAIMER: This is a completely fictional story involving sex between adult
men. If reading such a story is illegal where you live, or you are too young
or you aren't turned on by such things, please stop reading now.

Part One

Brandt had been walking around wearing a permanent smile for the past
fortnight. After almost four months of trying, he'd finally managed to make
Vince his boyfriend. It hadn't been easy; although he'd always had a feeling
that the short but well-built half-Latin-American had been interested, Vince
had made him work for it, turning down dates requests and never returning
phone calls. During the day, Vince had always seemed really relaxed around
Brandt, meeting him for lunch or sharing notes during and after lectures.

It had been so frustrating for Brandt; there had been very few things in his
life he'd been denied. He'd had a privileged life - he realised that, and
was humble about how much he had, although he was used to having what he
wanted. Vince had been one of them.

Two weeks ago, Brandt had reached the end of his patience - which had
already been stretched thinner than he cared to remember - and he had
flat-out asked Vince. He made it clear that it was the first and last time
he would be asking so bluntly, and that if Vince really didn't feel anything
for Brandt, he would concede defeat and give in.

"We take it slowly," Vince had answered, as simple as that; as though he'd
been waiting for him to ask forever. For a second, it hadn't quite sunk in
with Brandt, and he stood there, as if waiting for Vince to spell it out for
him. Then a wide grin had spread across his face, and he's pulled Vince
close to him, hugging him tightly. Vince had hugged back even tighter, and
Brandt had been sure that he'd heard a long sigh that sounded more like
relief than anything else.

If his mind hadn't been filled with feelings of his own relief and
happiness, he would have considered as to why Vince had so strongly resisted
Brandt, when it was so clear how much he liked him.

The smile Brandt was still wearing a fortnight later wasn't quite the same
though. It was still as wide when his friends asked about how the two of
them were getting on, and his reply would always be as positive as he could
put into words; it was just that the smile slipped a little when he was by
himself. When Vince had said to take it slowly, Brandt had had no idea just
how slowly he had meant.

For the first week, they had done nothing more than French kiss, and Vince
had seemed a little uncomfortable with doing so the first couple of times,
even though Brandt had always noticed a large swelling in Vince's jeans
after each embrace.

Brandt had been sexually active for over seven years, since a few weeks
after his fifteenth birthday, and his sexual appetite had always been big;
he'd had four steady boyfriends so far, and all of them had never been able
to keep up with his demands. He enjoyed sex as both the active and the
passive party, and would often adopt both roles during his long fuck
sessions; either switching after his first climax when he was with a single
partner, or taking it from both ends if he was with multiple partners.

He'd made his intentions more than clear to Vince since they'd been
together, and Vince had begun to lighten up a little during the past week;
the kissing was more passionate, and last night they had even been massaging
each others stiff pricks through the fabric of their jeans. Although it
still hadn't been enough for Brandt - he'd almost immediately needed to jack
off in his bathroom after Vince had cooled off on him again - he'd been
impressed by what he'd felt between Vince's legs. It had been fat - maybe
fatter than he'd ever laid hands on, and long too. God, what he wouldn't do
to get his hands, his mouth and his ass around that thing.

As Brandt meandered his way across the large grassy area towards his next
lecture, he slowly took stock of his boyfriend's slightly strange behaviour.
There was that same feeling of closely-repressed yearning that he'd sensed
when he'd been chasing Vince; Vince sprung hardons almost as easily and
frequently as Brandt did, which was an achievement not many people were able
to do. But even so, Vince still kept himself under strict control, and only
seemed to allow Brandt (and himself, Brandt thought) to progress to the next
step when Brandt's frustration began bubbling out of control.

Vince was making himself go slow, Brandt had decided. Brandt was sure Vince
was as eager to let go as he was, but there was no reason on earth why. As
he settled down for his next lecture, he silently agreed to let it drop; he
felt a lot for Vince - definitely a lot more than any of his previous
boyfriends - and if Vince had reasons for keeping the pace achingly slow,
then they must be good. He was prepared to wait, at least for a reasonable
amount of time, and the thought of what he'd felt, stiff, hot and incredibly
thick in Vince's crotch had piqued his interest.

As the lecture continued, Brandt paid it no attention - he hadn't even
bothered unpacking his notebooks and pens. He was trying to think of ways
that he could maybe speed up the progress in their relationship. It had
already taken two weeks before Vince had allowed Brandt to even touch his
dick through his jeans; how long was it going to be before they were
actually sucking and fucking, something Brandt was sorely beginning to miss
and crave?

Since he'd started making a play for Vince four months ago, he'd had sex
just twice, cumming just once both times. This was a steep drop for Brandt,
and he usually had anything from four sessions (when he was single) upwards
in a week. His sudden semi-forced celibacy had been a big shock to his
system; he'd virtually stopped going out clubbing on weekends, as that had
been where he'd picked up most of his one-night-stands from. Brandt had also
started visiting gloryholes within the last couple of years, which he'd also
suddenly stopped when Vince had caught his attention.

A little less than two years ago, Brandt had been virtually living in the
library, doing research for a big end-of-year project. In that time he'd
spent two or three nights a week in the library, staying there until it
closed at midnight. Most nights, the same librarian had been working - a
fellow student that did the graveyard shift to supplement his income. He had
probably been a year or two older than Brandt, but not particularly striking
in terms of looks and Brandt hadn't paid him any particular attention, even
though he'd often noticed Gary's lingering stares (he'd been forced to wear
a simple name tag to distinguish him as being a member of staff).

One evening, around eleven o'clock, Brandt had taken a toilet break, leaving
his bag and notes cluttered around his desk as he had been the only one left
in the library, strolling past Gary's desk and walking out through the
library's entry doors that led out to the small foyer. He'd entered the
men's toilets, the faint smell of old piss assaulting his nostrils, and
entered the cubicle nearest the door. The urinals weren't particularly well
looked after, and Brandt preferred to take a piss without having to stand in
ten other guys' dregs.

Almost as soon as he'd started pissing, he'd heard the toilet door open
again, and a man that he could only assume to be Gary entered the cubicle
next to him. Immediately, the hairs on the back of Brandt's neck stood on
end, and as he heard Gary give a short, muffled cough, his stream of piss
involuntarily halted.

He looked down and saw that several handmade holes of differing sizes -
ranging from the diameter of a biro to that of a small wrist - had been
crudely made in the thickly graffitied cubicle partition. For a second,
Brandt stood, holding his limp cock, his skin tingling with excitement. He'd
seen plenty of pornos involving gloryholes, and knew how it worked.

He then cleared his throat in return, waiting for Gary to make the next
move.

As he felt his soft, fleshy dick throb, a long, semi-hard cock was roughly
shoved through the largest of the holes in the partition. It was probably
the same size as Brandt's - which was always impressive - even though it was
very thin. It throbbed impatiently in front of Brandt, who had now turned
around to face the disembodied prick, and the cut head that topped off the
eight slender inches swelled almost as large as Brandt's when he was fully
hard (which he had already almost achieved himself now, overtaking Gary for
speed). The contrast in size was bordering on the ridiculous - having such a
large head surmounting the long, thin shaft - but Brandt had been crouching
down to face it almost without thinking, and he heard a long, deep moan from
the other side of the partition as he began to hungrily engulf Gary's prick.

It had felt surprisingly good in Brandt's mouth. The large head was hot and
firm as his tongue lapped over its smooth surface, tasting the first traces
of precum as they seeped from the large slit. The tip of Brandt's tongue
explored the deep flange where Gary's head joined to the now-stiff shaft as
Brandt squeezed his own hot thickness firmly in one hand, slowly pumping it
in time to the waves of suction he was applying to Gary's strangely shaped -
yet horny - dick.

Then, he began to relax his throat muscles a little as he drew Gary's prong
deeper inside his mouth, suppressing his gag reflex as the head started
pushing up against the entrance to Brandt's gullet. With a little effort,
Brandt suddenly swallowed down that swollen, throbbing head, and he heard
Gary grunt loudly before groaning as Brandt slid his cock further down his
throat.

It felt so incredibly strange to Brandt, but at the same time it was so hot.
Gary's head felt like it weren't attached to anything; just a fleshy ball
that was massaging Brandt's gullet from the inside. Brandt had sucked down
hard on that dick, wanting to feel the head swell even larger within his
throat before...

Gary began grunting once more, this time grunting in quick repetition as he
slammed his groin against the partition, trying to feed as much of his dick
as possible into Brandt's expert mouth, his glans throbbing larger and
firmer as Gary began rapidly building to orgasm.

Brandt increased the frequency of his own stroking, trying to catch up with
Gary's speedy climax, and he took as much of that dick down his throat as he
could manage, his nose pressed almost painfully hard against the wooden
partition, feeling as though he would pass out if he didn't take a breath
soon.

It was almost unbelievable how much larger Gary's dick had grown; the head
was almost painfully large within his gullet, leaking a thick stream of
precum, whilst the shaft was now noticeably larger, and he could feel it
just about filling his throat to capacity.

Just as Brandt's lungs started to scream out in pain and his head started to
spin a little, his orgasm, multiplied by his lack of oxygen, exploded with
acutely intense ferocity, unlike any he'd experienced before. He could his
first heavy wad pulsing through his cock as though it were a ball of fire
that burnt with pleasure, not pain, before it blasted from his slit with
such an incredible feeling of ecstasy. As his second wad was splattered
against the partition, Gary's own dick began to unleash its torrent, and
Brandt's throat was flooded by searing hot waves of cum that he simply
couldn't fully take. He pulled Gary's exploding head back into his mouth as
his first load was swallowed, soon followed by his second mammoth blast.

The two of them came together, Brandt's load sprayed onto the dirty,
graffitied partition whilst he swallowed every drop of Gary's huge, hot
load. Gary obviously had been in dire need of cumming for a while - there
had been few times when Brandt had been deluged by such an enormous load so
quickly.

Brandt had sucked Gary or had been sucked off by Gary in the library's
toilet every time they had been alone in the library for the rest of that
summer semester, always doing so through the gloryhole, which had seemed a
little strange to Brandt at first. That had been Gary's last year at
college, so Brandt hadn't seen him after that, but he had taken countless
loads - and shot almost as many - in the library's toilet over that
following couple of years.

Brandt adjusted his solid prick in his jeans as he brought himself back to
reality - the lecture was almost over and he'd spent the whole thing
reminiscing over giving anonymous students (`Just students?' a voice in his
head added) blowjobs, when he'd intended to try and think of a way he could
move his current relationship up a few gears.

Damn, he'd give anything to get his mouth around Vince's meat right now, he
thought to himself as his fellow students began packing up their things and
exiting the lecture hall. Brandt picked up his unopened bag and joined the
flow of students, his hardon throbbing needfully in his jeans.

For a moment, the temptation to go back to the library toilets again was
almost overwhelming. It was the end of the day, when the gloryhole was at
its busiest, and he'd not have to wait very long before a stiff, anonymous
dick was forced through the hole in the partition, or someone's finger came
through, indicating that they wanted to suck his instead.

Before he found himself unthinkingly walking towards the library block, he
pushed the idea from his mind, reminding himself how hard he'd worked to get
Vince, and how strongly he was beginning to feel for him, despite his
rapidly growing need for something more than his own hand.

He headed instead towards the canteen; he'd skipped lunch earlier that day
to spend the time with Vince, out on the lawned area, and was now starving.

Brandt picked over an overcooked lasagne as he watched the brief flurry of
students that filled the tables after the last lectures slowly peter out
over the course of an hour and a half. In that time, he had decided to
surprise Vince at his house, hoping that catching him off-guard would maybe
help break down his defences. Without advance warning, maybe his resistance
would be easily overcome.

Leaving over half of his now-cold lasagne for the canteen workers to clear
up, he scooped up his bag and headed for Vince's house, swept up with
expectant hope that his plan would at least allow him to finally see his
lover's cock.

Brandt had only been to Vince's house once before, but it wasn't too far
from where he lived himself, so it would be easy enough to find. As he got
into his car, he remembered how hopeful he'd felt four days ago, when he'd
given Vince a lift home, expecting an invite inside. Instead, Vince had all
but bolted from the car like a startled animal, leaving Brandt a little
confused. He'd phoned Brandt later that evening, soon easing Brandt's mind
with his assurances of how much he was already feeling for him, and how he
was just needing some time and understanding, as he'd never been in a proper
relationship before.

As he drove from college to Vince's house, his dick was growing semi-hard
once again within his jeans, his mind racing with thoughts of the two of
them finally sharing each other's bodies. When he reached Vince's house, he
sat outside for a little, calming himself enough to allow his cock to
deflate and his mind to clear a little. He wanted to make it clear that he
wanted to skip a few steps in their progress, but at the same time he didn't
want to scare Vince away. Taking a deep breath and steeling himself, he got
out of the car and crossed the street to Vince's house.

There was the sound of the doorbell ringing somewhere from inside the house,
and through the frosted glass of the front door a shadowy shape that he
immediately knew wasn't Vince came into the hall and approached. The figure
appeared to be tall - Vince was only 5'5" even though he was muscularly
built. The person approaching must have almost had a foot on Vince.

The front door opened and Brandt was confronted by a huge Latin-American
that he figured must be Vince's father. His face looked as though there was
an almost permanent scowl etched into its dark, angular features. Brandt
could immediately tell that Vince and this man were related; their facial
features - strong, striking good looks - were the same, although this man
must have clocked past 40 at least five years ago.

Also, despite the huge difference in height - this guy was 6'2" at the least
- the body was built in much the same way; thick knots of muscles straining
against the clothing, except this guy was even more developed. Damn, he was
huge, and for a moment, Brandt stood there like a fool, simply staring at
the man who quickly grew impatient, his scowl twisting his face a little
more.

"Can I help you?" came the slightly accented, gruff voice.

"Um... I was looking for Vince. Is he home?" As Brandt said this, the guy
leaned over onto the doorframe, trailing his arm up the painted wood. Brandt
could smell beer on his breath, and it wasn't even dinner-time yet. No
wonder Vince didn't want Brandt coming in his house (`It doesn't take away
the fact that he's hot, though' a voice inside his head chimed, but Brandt
did his best to beat it back down).

"He's not back from college yet. Probably studying at the library. He's due
home at five though; you can come in and wait." The way he said it made it
sound more of a command than an offer, and Brandt looked down at his watch -
16.38 - it was a pretty long time to wait, and Vince's father was
impressively ominous, even if he was reeking of beer. He started to try and
think of an excuse. "Don't worry, he's usually back before then. I can fix
you a drink while you're waiting." His scowl had unfurled slightly again,
although deep creases remained etched over the strong, manly face. Then,
without thinking, Brandt thanked him and stepped past him, into the cool,
dim hallway, the smell of stale beer strong now.

"My name's Brandt. I'm on some of Vince's courses." Brandt held out his hand
and the big man took it, squeezing it hard and shaking it aggressively.

"I'm Vincent's father," the man returned, not offering a name. "Take a seat
in the living room." Vince's father gestured through an open door to the
living room. "I'll go get you a drink. Do you want a beer?" Brandt politely
explained that he was driving, and that a soda would be fine if he had one.
"Suit yourself," came the response as he turned and headed for the kitchen.

Brandt settled into one of the overstuffed armchairs, noticing that the sofa
opposite was surrounded by empty, crushed beercans (`That's obviously
Vince's father's domain'), as he heard the rattling of the fridge door being
opened. Then came the short, sharp hiss of two cans being opened, and
Vince's father returned to the living room, handing Brandt a soda and
flopping down onto the sofa opposite.

"So, you're the one Vincent has been spending so much time with," began his
father, and Brandt immediately felt uncomfortable. The guy didn't look like
your typical understanding father, and was unsure what to say. Did he know
Vince as gay? Did he know the two of them were boyfriends? Was he being this
direct thanks to the beer?

"We... we've been helping each other out with notes and stuff from some of
our lectures, yeah. I just came over to see if he had the notes from
Tuesday's lecture." Brandt took a long gulp from the cold soda, wanting the
subject to change.

"So, you two been friends long? You came onto the scene pretty quickly, and
I thought I knew most of Vincent's friends." Brandt was beginning to
painfully regret accepting the offer to wait inside - these questions were
(`Almost purposefully?') awkward, and he must have been visibly squirming.

"I've known Vince about... about four months now." At this, Vince's father
raised an eyebrow and chugged on his can of beer.

"How long you two been together?" The question floored Brandt, and for a few
moments he sat there, staring at Vince's father, his jaw slightly agape.
"Come on kid, it's pretty obvious. Don't worry, I've known about my boy for
quite some time now. Quite surprised he didn't say anything to me about you
though. We usually share everything." At this last comment, Vince's father
opened his legs a little wider and settled further back into the couch, his
hips thrusting forward a little. It was starting to become very weird, and
Brandt wasn't sure how to handle it. Was this a come-on? He'd picked up
signals from guys that hadn't been half as direct as this before - shit,
what was he thinking? This was his boyfriend's dad for fuck sake.

"We... um, we've been together for two weeks now." Again, one eyebrow was
raised and another large chug of beer was taken.

"Good. So, have you two done anything yet?" As he said this, the hand that
wasn't gripped around the beercan slid from the top of his lap where it had
been resting, and now settled between his crotch, just in front of - that
bulge... it was massive. A long, fat tube of flesh could clearly be seen
pressing against his jeans, and Brandt quickly looked back up into Vince's
father's face, but as he felt his cock throb once, then again, a wave of
despair washed over him.

"No, sir, we haven't done anything yet. We're taking it slowly." Vince's
father had first seemed pleased by Brandt addressing him as `sir', but at
the news that the two of them were taking it slowly (`That's the
understatement of the year' thought Brandt bitterly), Vince's father gave a
sharp guffaw.

"Slow? And who's idea is that? It can't be any idea of my boy's. He's his
dad's boy, and his dad wouldn't be going with someone for two weeks without
doing anything. Why are you keeping my boy at arm's length Brad?" Brandt
felt exasperated and a little confused. He was being deluged by mixed
signals, as well as being accused of not taking things quickly enough, when
he'd been ready to go into overdrive four months ago.

"It isn't like that, sir. Vince wants to take things slowly and so we are."
Vince's father took another large swig for the can, emptying it, then stood
up, his face twisted back into a grimace once more.

"Bullshit, Brad." (`It's Brandt, you drunken dickhead') "My boy's probably
busting a nut and you're holding out on him. You don't want to do it with
him? Or are you one of those celibate types?"

"Not at all. I've been wanting to take things quicker since we got together.
It's me who's busting a nut, sir."

"So, Vincent's been holding out on you, eh?" At this, he gave a little
chuckle to himself. "Shit, he must be fit to burst by now. How about you,
kid?" Brandt looked up at Vince' father, a look of shock frozen on his face.
Every question that this man threw at him was more leading and surreal than
the previous one. This wasn't happening, this wasn't...

Vince's father had dropped the beercan to join the others on the floor, and
was stood, lightly rubbing the fat tube of flesh that curled over to his
left thigh. Brandt's eyes were involuntarily fixated by the almost hypnotic
sight (`He must have one hell of a dick... And he's not wearing underwear,
either'). His cock was throbbing again, too, rapidly swelling within his own
jeans as he watched Vince's father's dick bloating under his touch.

"I'm pretty full myself, kid. Could really use a hand to sort some stuff
out." He'd taken a couple of steps nearer to the armchair where Brandt was
sat, frozen solid with shock, his dick now almost fully erect and bent
almost painfully double within his briefs.

"Sir, I don't-"

"Shut up, kid. Vincent's my boy, my own flesh and blood. You need to unload
as bad as I do - and don't try saying otherwise, you're packing some pretty
serious wood there, boy. How about you help out your boyfriend's old man?"
As he was speaking, his fingers were pulling down the zipper on his fly, and
when he was done talking, with one hefty tug, he'd hauled his semi-hard,
uncut prick from his jeans. It was nice and fat (`Vince certainly gets his
girth from his father'), but around eight inches already. It was the colour
of strong cappuccino, with a dense shock of wiry black pubes clamouring
around its root. The foreskin was already being peeled back over the pink
head and was suddenly pulled back all the way as Vince's father gripped one
hand tightly around the shaft and pumped it a couple of times. The strength
of his grip made the head swell and bulge with trapped blood, and thick
veins popped out around the three or so inches of shaft that protruding from
his flexing fist.

Brandt's mind was spinning - it was an insane situation to be in, and the
few morals he had were screaming at him that not only would he be cheating
on Vince, but he'd be doing it with Vince's own father. But he was aching
for release, and the sight of Vince's father's now fully hard, thick nine
inches were almost more than he could stand. He felt like crying, but he was
paralysed where he sat, unable to do anything.

Before he could come to his senses, though, Vince's father had strode up to
him, and one hand gripped Brandt tightly around the back of his head, down
by his neck.

"You want this dick fucking your face as much as I want to fuck it. Take it,
boy." Brandt was then sharply slapped about the face by nine fat, solid
inches of uncut Latin cock, feeling a smear of warm precum streaked across
his cheek. It was more than he could stand, and he pushed his head back
against Vince's father's hand, trying to get his mouth around that bulbous
pink head. As Vince's father felt him do this, he relaxed the grip from
around Brandt's neck, then moved his hand to the top of Brandt's head, and
pulled Brandt's eager mouth over his throbbing head.

The two of them let out long moans as their pent-up tensions suddenly flew
from them, and Brandt let himself go to his lusts, all his thoughts now
centred around the thick baton of beef that was skewering his face. His
tongue lapped greedily around its vascular surface, and he tasted the strong
saltiness of precum as it oozed onto his tongue. He started with the suction
then, creating as strong a vacuum with his mouth as he could, and Vince's
father half grunted and half cried out with pleasure as Brandt tried to suck
the life out of his dick. The amount of precum this guy was producing was
incredible, it was almost as if he was continuously cumming onto Brandt's
tongue

"Aw yeah; you really know how to handle this fat dick. Keep it up, boy." At
the sound of his encouragement, Brandt began devouring even more of that
oversized rod of hard flesh. Soon, the blunt, round head was pressing
against. Brandt then reached forward and unbuttoned Vince's father's fly,
pulling his jeans down to his knees.

Vince's father had wonderfully built legs, wrapped in black hair, which
flowed into the tightly curled pubic hair surrounding the root of his fat
nine inches. Hanging low and heavy beneath his shaft was an amply-filled
ballsac, also swathed with wiry hair. With one hand he began fondling and
massaging those hefty bull-balls, whilst the other reached around to his
tight bubble-butt. As he suppressed his gag reflex, he pulled himself
further onto that dick. His throat, relaxed and lubed by the constant, heavy
stream of gummy precum, opened over the crest of Vince's father's head, and
with a large gulp Brandt felt the fleshy head and around two inches of
stiff, veiny shaft disappear into is gullet. In unison, Brandt and Vince's
father moaned long and low, the vibrations of Brandt's moaning causing
Vince's father to double over with feelings of ecstasy, pulling Brandt even
further down onto his pole.

Brandt had needed to do this for so long; to have his throat filled by
stiff, throbbing cock. As he retreated off the four or so inches that he'd
managed to stuff into his gullet so that he could take another breath,
Vince's father straightened up and began unbuttoning his worn-out looking
lumberjack shirt. He pulled it off his heavy, round shoulders to reveal a
thickly muscled, sculpted torso that was covered with more of that thick,
black hair, gathering in the clefts between his pecs and abs, making them
seem deeper; his muscles bigger. As Brandt took in another gulp of air, he
looked up at the mounds of muscle above him. His hands immediately began
caressing the stone-hard bricks and slabs of muscle that cladded Vince's
Father's body, then once more he gulped down that dick, this time sliding
almost all the way down onto it. He could feel the very tips of Vince's
father's pubic hair tickling the end of his nose, which spurred him on even
more. Pulling off only halfway, he reached round and grasped those solid,
tight asscheeks, then pulled himself all the way onto that cock, until his
nose mashed against the sweaty crotch in front of him.

"Fucking hell, you're good. Vince doesn't know what the fuck he's missing.
Yeah, take every last inch of this dick. You're getting me so turned on,
boy. Take your own cock out, let me see you jack your prick while you suck
on this dad's fat fuckstick." Brandt didn't need to be told twice, and he
slid off the armchair onto his knees as he began tearing open his button-fly
with one hand. Pushing his jeans and briefs down a little way around his
thighs, his cut eight-inch prong slapped up against his belly, the head
covered with precum.

He curled his palm over the top of his crimson head, and began working his
precum down onto his shaft as he rhythmically deepthroated Vince's father,
who was now constantly telling Brandt how good it was feeling and how he was
going to flood Brandt with his slime.

When Brandt's dick was smeared with his slick clear juices, he gripped hold
of it tightly and began stroking his dick in time to his fellating. Vince's
father's hands were now both gripping Brandt's skull and were holding his
head still as he began thrusting his hips forward in violent, regular jerks,
roughly fucking Brandt's eager, hungry throat.

Brandt liked it rough, and was more than used to having his mouth abused by
all manner of dicks. It was what he missed most when he was sucking a guy
through a gloryhole: he couldn't have a cock fuck his face, or at least not
as hard as he liked, he would always have to be the one doing the work. This
was heaven for him - on his knees, being held in place while this huge
beefcake roughly used his mouth as his own personal fuckhole while pulling
on his own cock. He could feel his balls pulling tightly up to the root of
his cock, and knew that he couldn't last much longer. It had been so long
since he'd sucked cock that he was surprised he'd lasted so long already.

"Not long now, boy," Vince's father boomed, as if reading Brandt's mind.
"Soon, I'll be filling that throat of yours with my cum. Yeah, take all of
that hot jizz, you cocksucker. Aw... Take this-"

Suddenly, the two men stopped dead, locked in their lustful tryst. To
Brandt's horror, he could hear the front door being opened.

Vince was home.

Brandt pulled Vince's father's dick from within his throat, making to stand
up. Instead, Vince's father held his head so tightly that he thought he
would crush his skull. He forced his cock back into Brandt's mouth.

Brandt couldn't believe it - he should have seen it coming a mile off. How
could he have expected to get away with it? Even if Vince hadn't come home
before they'd finished, his father was cocky enough to tell his son the
first chance he got. How could he have looked Vince in the eye after sucking
of his own dad? (`But you fucking loved it, and you still want to finish him
off. At least the father knows what he wants and follows it through.')

"Dad, how could you?" Vince was now stood at the entrance to the living
room, his bag dropped to the floor beside him, his eyes burning with anger
and shock.

Now, Vince's father finally released Brandt's head and he fell from his
dick, coughing and spluttering. Brandt stood up beside Vince's father, who
towered over him, and the pair of them faced Vince, their jeans pushed down
around their knees, both of them still rock hard.

"Vince," Brandt begin, trying to sound as sincere as possible while being
caught with his father's dick stuffed down his throat. "I didn't-" But Vince
wasn't looking at Brandt, his eyes were fixed angrily on his father.

"Dad, we talked about this. I've done everything you asked and you couldn't
even keep your hands off him." At this point Brandt was really confused, and
his cock was now quickly deflating.

"It seems you've been holding out on the poor kid here, son. Brad said he
hasn't had any since you two got together. Is that right?" Vince's father's
voice had become deep and ominous, and Vince's face, that was painted with
anger just a few moments ago, was now subdued. Brandt began pulling up his
jeans, hiding his now-soft cock.

"I was doing what you... what I thought you wanted, dad." Brandt looked at
Vince's short, stockily-built figure, now slouched subserviently. He was
able to see the curve of his pecs pressing against the clinging T-shirt he
wore, as well as the significant bulge that rested between his thickset
thighs. He had his father's genes and musculature, simply packed onto a
shorter frame, exaggerating his physique into something truly impressive,
considering that Vince himself had admitted he'd never once lifted a
dumbbell or entered a gym.

"And what was that, son? What did you think I wanted?" Vince's father still
stood there practically naked, hard, and unashamed of both facts; his
massive prong still jutting out at a 90° angle, softening at a far slower
rate than Brandt's had. His arms were folded in front of his barrel chest,
his eyes fixing Vince's. Brandt felt the whole thing surreal - he didn't
understand what was going on. The air was filled with some kind of tension
and it was beginning to freak Brandt out.

"I... I thought you didn't want me... didn't want me..." Vince was now
flicking his eyes back and forth between his father and Brandt, those deep
brown eyes flooded with guilt and confusion. Brandt was certain he was
returning Vince's sentiments, although for different reasons. It was just he
didn't understand why Vince had just caught his boyfriend deepthroating his
father, but now - mere minutes later - he was the one looking as though he'd
been caught.

Vince couldn't find any more voice from within him. His jaw swung
noiselessly as he stood in the dim light of the living room doorway.
Suddenly, the sound of Vince's father's rumbling chuckle that quickly grew
to a hearty laugh.

"I don't know where you got an idea like that from, boy. Besides, Brandt's
one hell of a boy. Hot mouth. But he hasn't been finished off yet. Come over
here." Brandt's eyes widened with surprise at what Vince's father had just
said, but the true shock came when Vince actually straightened up and began
walking into the living room. "Get your clothes off, son. Brandt's needing
some attention here. Look, he's already gone soft."

"OK, dad." Vince stopped where he was and at once began stripping. For two
weeks Brandt had dreamed of this moment; the time when he'd get to so Vince
in his full, naked glory, but never thought that it would be with the
presence of his father, let alone at his command.

Before the two already exposed men, Vince revealed his naked form. His dark,
Latin skin was completely hairless across his solid chest, although there
was a small black treasure trail that led into the waistband of his jeans.
Vince kicked off his trainers, then pulled off his socks, and just as he was
about to open his fly, his father put a finger up and stopped him.

"Not so fast young man. Brad, go and help the boy." He reached over to me
and cupped my bare, round butt with one large hand, squeezing it gently as
he looked down at me. "I know how much you must be dying to his dick in all
its glory, so go get your fill."

"Dad, his name's Brandt." As I began walking cautiously forward, Vince's
father gave a hearty laugh and slapped my bare ass playfully.

"Why didn't you say so, Brandt?" Vince's father asked playfully. "It's not
as if I bite - hard."

>>This is the end of Part One, and I hope you enjoyed it. I have left the
>>story on quite a cliffhanger, but unfortunately it will have to stay there
>>for a while, as I'm currently concentrating on furthering my other
>>submitted story, My Father's Son, to a point where I can start dividing my
>>writing time between multiple stories. Until that point, no amount of
>>begging will produce the concluding part of this piece, so please be
>>patient.

Your comments and criticisms, however, are always welcome. Please email me
at writer_xerxys@hotmail.com