Date: Mon, 26 May 2003 02:51:33 +0000 From: Tony Ryan Subject: Family Values This story belongs to me. Please do not distribute without my permission or use for profit. This story will eventually involve incest involving characters of various ages. I am not approving of or condoning this behavior in real life. This is fiction. Make intelligent choices and use protection in real life. Please don't read this if you're not over 18, and so on and so forth. I really want to hear some feedback on this. Please write. -- Christopher Marler was a busy boy...make that a busy young man. Finishing out his junior year, he was at the top of his field in basketball, and if he'd had the passion and drive, baseball as well. His lanky body had served him well throughout his 17 years, catching the glances and not-so-occasional leers of students, faculty members, random strangers on the street. His blonde hair was close-cropped, his upper torso and thighs honed and highlighted from a recent interest in weight training. While his baby face and pouty mouth had never failed to get him higher grades and better treatment, he'd grown a goatee as a reminder of his approacing manhood, and wound up getting even more appreciative stares. Chris loved to smile and flick his lips just that certain way at an old geezer teacher (some were even like...50) and wonder how soaked their panties were, how fast they ran to the bathroom and whipped out their fat hog at the very thought of his teen jock cock raping their tired asses over their desk. He had a very big package indeed, begging to be freed what he wrapped it in that day. Sometimes he'd skip underwear entirely that day and wander the halls with his big donkey dong flopping up and down in lewd, proud fashion, the mushroom head begging to be squuezed through such thin fabric. Naturally, such a perfect body and large ego led to an even larger appetite for sex. Chris had a girlfriend. But she was scared for his thick monster to go inside even her mouth, much less her tiny pussy. The best she could do were hand jobs, and Chris could get those from any random slut on or off campus. Indeed, many of them, even a few teachers, were happy to push up their skirts or lower their jeans to be rammed by his thick prick. Unfortunately, they were equally reticent about letting their mouths anywhere near his downstairs - "I'd break my jaw" was a common complaint. So when he was alone in the locker room one day with his teammate Jamal, complaining about this perpetual case of blue low-hangers, he was surprised at how intetly Jamal stared at the bulge in his jock. They'd been friends for years and had watched their bodies change from soft flesh to invulnerable, stainless steel. Never had Jamal so hungrily or obviously coveted him. Yet, instead of being disgusted or calling his friend a "fag", Chris was turned out. This hunky specimen of almost-man, this mature, confident star athlete, was soaking his shorts over his best friend's cock. Not doubting himself for a moment, Chris put Jamal's large hand on his package, and within moments, those thick, fat lips were put to full cocksucking use. Chris roughly yanked Jamal's tight braids back and forth, hurling abuse at his new dickslut, moaning and grunting obscenities at the contrast between his white shaft and the dark skin it was impaled in. Finally, hearing the coach walking in, Chris whispered one last command and shoved his meat all the way down Jamal's quivering throat, filling the horny teen with oceans of jock spunk. They'd met for suck-and-fuck sessions once a week ever since, and Chris had learned to dominate every part of his teammate's body. They were not just friends now, not even lovers; Jamal had given himself fully to Chris, and every time Chris rammed his horse cock up Jamal's tight black ass, he wondered why he bothered with Kelly at all. Chris pondered that question yet again as he rang her doorbell. When she answered the door, she also answered his question. Kelly was on the plump side, but had a killer rack, beautiful blue eyes, long blonde hair tied back in a ponytail. Spilling out of her sweater and tight jeans as always. As frilly as he was macho, she grinned her dentist-perfected smile at his usual backwards cap, tank top, low-riding shorts, and shit-eating grin. He'd just been over at Jamal's and was tempted to tell her just how literal the term shit-eating was that day, but thought better. Chris strolled into her expensive home, not a mansion, but close. Her father was never home; her mother never left home. She passed by him again on her way upstairs. "HELLO, Chris? Whatchu do....what you....doing here...day?" Meredith, "Merry" to her friends, wasn't mentally impaired; she was Absolutely impaired. Every time he dropped in she was wobbling in from the pool, or into the kitchen, in various states of dress and undress, but the one constant was a martini glass in her shaky hand and bottle in the other. Chris didn't complain, because aside from the dark roots and more freckled skin, she was an older version of her daughter. Kelly clearly inherited her 30 cc's from her DD mother, and judging by the tiny little bikinis Mrs. Crawford wore, hopefully a shaved pussy. Chris loved to clean out a bare snatch, to make the bitch tingle or purr at the touch of his bristly facial fuzz. Due to Kelly's chaste manner, Chris had no idea what she wore under her schoolgirl panties, but he was determined to find out. If Merry kept rubbing his arm way too long and ogling his crotch the way she often did when he dropped in, he'd be hitting her cunt long before Kelly's. "Can I take a shower?" Mother and daughter's eyes widened as they milled around the kitchen. Chris smiled his most bashful smile and rubbed his flat abs through his thin shirt. He loved to tease, to get his fingers achingly close to his crotch, to watch them imagine him stroking himself, getting fat and hard and spraying all over their clean, rich bitch floor. "My plumbing is broken." "OK" "No problem" the women chimed, as Kelly helped her mother stand up straight. Chris grinned again and climbed the stairs, glancing at various ugly artwork and family photos with each flight. He preferred the bathroom on the second floor, because that was near... "Excuse...sorry...I..." Andrew's room. With a brother and sister at college, Andrew was Kelly's only sibling remaining at home. 15 years old, turning 16 in a month, he was a computer nerd hidden behind the thickest glasses Chris had ever seen. He was equally swamped behind layers of flannel, cotton and denim, giving no hint as to what his lanky body must look like. Chris always liked to watch him leave the room, stare directly in his eyes, listen to him intently, make him feel important. Loved bumping into him in the hallway and accidentally feeling him up. Loved teasing him with his words and his hot bod, like right now. "Wanna touch it?" Chris lightly thrust his flimsily-covered bulge against Andrew's jeans. Andrew gasped and blushed 10 shades of red, not meshing well with his pale skin and the dark brown hair which continually fell into his hazel eyes. "I-I-I..." Smirking, Chris placed a finger on those bee-stung lips he so admired. The boy's dick was nearly making out with his through their clothes. "My bicep. Nice, huh?" "Yeah...I gotta go." In a flash, Andrew ran back to his room, Chris licking his lips at the sight of that juicy bubble butt. Oh well, maybe another day. The ornate bathroom called to Chris, the siren song of foolish wealth and excess. He casually watched himself in the mirror as he stripped nude. His tank top first, stopping to raise both arms, smell his stinky, hairy armpits, pressing his nose and mouth against the musk and inhaling deeply. Feeling his meat leap for freedom at the sensation, Chris slowly pulled down his baggy shorts, his man-meat flopping against his belly with a resounding gooey slap. Even half-hard, he was huge. Fully hard, he clocked - or cocked - in at 11 inches, or so Jamal had measured. Chris thought about a mouth on his leaking scepter, any mouth. Even his own, if he learned that trick he'd heard so much about. Maybe someday... Running the water to just hot enough, Chris glanced back at his hard bubble butt. He had worked night and day to get his ass so firm, so round, slightly less tan than the rest of his flawless body. He slapped his cheeks hard, the rough sound echoing through the expansive room. How many people a day glanced at his backside? How many wanted to taste, touch, fuck it? Chris spread his two marble globes apart and shivered as his fingers danced at the sweaty crack. Someday he would sit on another man's penis, complete the full sexual journey, show that he could take anything. His fresh pink hole twitched at the thought. Chris stepped inside the transparent shower, soaping himself up, humming along to a recent rap hit. He paid particular attention to his sensitive, eraser-sized nipples, moaning in pleasure as the bar of soap nudged each nub. As he began to stroke his cock, his pumping grew harder at the thought of blowing a load in his girlfriend's home, no one knowing his cum would go through their water source, he was polluting their shower this way. Then, as he neared explosion, he heard a sound at the door. "Who is it???" Andrew yelled over the water. -- Who do you want it to be? One of the characters already listed? A new character? Who? I want to make this a multi-chapter series, but I only can if you give me feedback and encouragement on what you do and don't like. Please, e-mail me. What got you hot? What will get you hot? The address is HotStoryLvr@hotmail.com