Date: Thu, 11 Oct 2012 17:24:29 +0100 From: Rob Armstrong Subject: Spike's Piercing Parlour, Part Eight: Happy Fuckin Birthday SPIKE'S PIERCING PARLOUR, PART EIGHT: HAPPY FUCKIN BIRTHDAY THIS STORY CONTAINS THEMES OF INCEST BETWEEN A FATHER AND HIS 18 YR OLD SON, WATERSPORTS AND DOMINATION. THESE CHARACTERS EXIST IN AN AIDS FREE, CONSEQUENCE FREE, FANTASY PARALLEL UNIVERSE AND ARE NOT TO BE EMULATED. PLEASE SUPPORT NIFTY WITH YOUR DONATIONS AND KEEP THIS INCREDIBLE RESOURCE GOING. Clay's last day on the construction site coincided with his 19th birthday. Not that much work got done past lunch. Not once a couple of the guys found Clay with Hank Wozniak's long dick pumping his cunt up in a quiet corner on the fourth tier. 'Hey,' cried Wozniak as they dragged him offa Clay, 'the kid likes it! I wuz givin' him his birthday fuck! Way that hole in his jeans been winkin' at me all mornin...' Wozniak had ripped open the back seam of Clay's jeans and exposed the boy's crack. He'd been breeding him doggy style for the last fifteen minutes, with that long, slim piece poking Clay good, deep up in his gut. 'Hey you fuckers!' yelled Clay, still bent over, ass exposed, 'How come my ass is empty? Somebody get up here!' He didn't have to wait long. One of his 'rescuers', a hot bearded blond called Murray, plunged his beercan sausage raw up the boy's hole, his 0 guage PA grazing his chute all the way up. 'Oooof!' Clay huffed, getting used to the shorter but thicker tool, 'That's more like it.' So as not to hurt the displaced Wozniak's feelings, Clay motioned him over and sucked his dick deep into his talented throat. Word soon got out that Clay Larsen was giving it away up on the fourth tier, and in no time a spontaneous twelve-man orgy had broken out up there. The floor timbers were so hosed down with piss and cum that the place stank like a prison toilet... Clay lost count of how much dick he took up his ass that afternoon - or how many asses he took himself. He had Wozniak at least a coupla times, and that hairy daddy ass sucked him in like it was starving... ... FUCK what a ride that Polish cunt was... and more than a coupla horny hardhats got their first taste of dick that day... down their throats or up their hot, hairy holes... Either way, it was a helluva send off fom the guys - so much that Clay even checked with the foreman on the chance of putting in the occasional Saturday shift during the semester. Heading home on the subway in the evening rush hour, Clay had to tuck his plaid shirt into the back of his jeans for decency's sake, in order to cover the wide rent in the back. There wasn't much he could do, though, to cover up the smell of gallons of fresh piss. The smell attracted the attention of a leather muscle-stud, a hot, white-bearded grandpa. In the crush on the subway car there wasn't really anything Clay could do when the guy started feeling him up... ... oh dear, WHAT a damn shame... Oh no. Clay would just have to stand there and take the old pervert's mauling. Oh-oh. Grandpa had just found the rent in his jeans and... ooof! Yeah, man, three fingers straight up his hole... oooh... mmmmm... yeah, take my ass, Granpaw... Grandpa leaned in and growled in Clay's ear. Clay turned his head and licked Gramps quickly up the side of his face when nobody was looking. He barely reacted when he felt the guy's naked dick, released from tight leather pants, slap up against his trench and splatter his hole with daddyjuice. Oooh... his second 0 guage pierced dick of the day... VERY drippy... very juicy... ...prodding at Clay's hole... MMMMMmmmfff... Yeah, straight in, all the way... ... OOOOooof.... ... unghhhh.... ... ooooh yeahhhhhhh...... Packed tight as they were, nobody else had a clue about Grandpa's wet boner packed tight up the blond jock's shithole. Clay fucking knew it, though, and he bucked a little, driving his own boner into the pinstriped ass of the business dude in front of him. The guy was hot - and married, judging by the wedding ring on the hand that held onto the safety bar in the centre of the car. Because it was so hot, the guy had his jacket slung over one arm - so there was nothing between Clay's dick and the guys ass except pinstriped summer weight cloth. The guy looked round in typical New Yorker-taking-no-bullshit fashion. When he saw Clay his eyes widened a little, however - and when he took in the leather daddy standing panting, jammed up way too close behind the kid, his eyes widened even more. From the glazed expression on both their faces and their tongues practically hanging out, it was pretty clear they were fucking. Clay took a gamble and grabbed the dude's ass, making him part of it. The guy would either raise the alarm or turn onto it. The man's face colored - and he practically moaned out loud. Phew! When Clay pulled him close and groped his basket he realised he needn't have worried. The guy was hard as a rock - and when Clay pulled his pants down he found he was only wearing a jock, another measure to fend off the heat, no doubt - and damn fine easy access for some prime blond jock meat... Clay released his dick from his open flies... The train chose that moment to grind to a halt in the tunnel and the lights went out. The noise of the train was replaced by a chorus of New Yorker swearing and gripes. Clay was generating enough precum to lube the guys hole and he plunged in. The guy bucked and writhed, apparently not as experienced as his fucker, and it took a few minutes of solid humping to break him in. ... from then on he was grinding his hips, working Clay's dick deeper inside of him, his own dick grasped firmly in the jock's fist... another convert to the cause... By the time the train started again, Clay had a fresh load from Grandpa to add to his reservoir from earlier, the dude in front had an ass load from Clay and his jock was full of his own cream. Clay pulled his pants up for him, like a gentleman, and patted his ass, slipping a card for Spike's dungeon into his back pocket. Poor guy. That jacket would have to be carried in front him the rest of the way home, now, and he would have some explaining to do to wifey... ... and Clay would hafta tell daddy what a naughty boy he'd been, taking anonymous subway fucks from pervy grandpas... It was no wonder, really, that Clay decided to put off going home just yet... ... so THAT was probably how Clay ended up fenching with Grandpa in a dirty subway toilet cubicle - rimming him, and then taking his fist up his tight jock ass... 'Ungh... fuck, kid,' Thor groaned, 'Tell me again about the fuck on the subway...' Clay had found his dad sitting naked on the john, where he greeted him with a slopy blowjob, letting slip parts of the story between mouthfulls. By now Thor's dick was dripping and pointed at the ceiling. 'Yeah, Dad... the piss soaking my jeans brought that old guy sniffing for some jock pussy...' 'Oh, fuck yeah...' 'Saw what he wanted and just took my ass... right there on that subway train, in front of all those people... and no-one had a clue...' 'Fuck yeah... I'd like to meet that guy... fucking my kid on the subway like a cheap whore... Maybe next time we'll both do ya on the rush hour A-train together... MMMMmmm... an' then drag ya to that dirty toilet cubicle were we could sell tickets to any perv that wants to see a hot jock get fisted by his dad an' some total stranger...' Dad's sex talk was driving Clay wild. 'Well, part of him you can meet right now...' Clay straddled his dad, and plunged his ass down onto his rampant dick, right there on the toilet. The copious loads from the day's fucking, including Leather Gramps, oiled the hot incest fuck and fuelled its fire... 'Unghhh... fuck, kid, ya know how to make ya dad happy!' Thor let out a deep, long-drawn out groan... and something heavy and solid splashed into the toilet bowl. FUCK! Dad was taking a dump while he fucked his son on the toilet. Clay grunted, revelling in the nastiness of it... relishing his father's cock more than any other of the day... THE WRONGNESS of it... the cold tile and manstink of their, by now, pretty rank bathroom... When Dad shot his load deep up his boy's cunt, he came a gallon of his own. Cum dribbled out of Clay's bruised hole, but still Dad was hard. 'Get up, son - I'm gonna eat the rest of that load out your ass.' Clay was still panting. 'And, me Dad..?' 'Fuck, son - while Daddy's busy felchin', you're gonna clean out Daddy's nasty hole with your hot jock tongue of course!' 'Yeah, Dad... you into that...?' 'Fuck yeah...' 'FUCK yeah..!' Thor jammed his son's mouth up against his and held him there as he licked it out. Tongue battled against tongue as they drooled saliva back and forth. Next thing Clay knew, his dad had him sprawled on the piss covered tile of their bathroom floor... 'It's time I reminded you who the boss is around here, boy,' said Dad in a dark growl. 'I'll teach you to go havin' anonymous sex with old men on the subway.' Clay was instantly hard again, turning onto his dad's dominant side. Thor put a meaty paw on the back of his neck and pressed his face into the yellow streaked tile. 'Clean it up, bitch... lick up our dried piss from the floor...' Clay grimaced... but then Dad was twisting the chain that linked his pierced nipples and his will was no longer his own... 'Unghh... oooh, Dad...' 'I said LICK IT!' 'uNGHHH... Sluurp.... sluurppp... sluuuuurpppp...' Thor's dick pulsed back to life, as he delighted in watching his son's taut buns flex and relax as he worked his way around that floor on his hands and knees... ass up and begging for another fisting... 'Yeah, ya better behave, boy,' Thor taunted, 'There's a whole buncha old guys I could bring back here for ya to service...' He yanked again on the tit chain till Clay began to wiggle his ass back and forth like a bitch in heat. 'Yeah, an' I ain't talkin' about no hot muscle studs, neither, like that guy today - or the super. I could bring back nasty, ugly old guys... fat old winos... homeless guys that stink... all fuh ya to service with ya hot jock body... with me an' Spike an' Doc all watchin' while we draw on our cigars...' To his amusement, Thor noticed the rest of the day's load trickling out of his son's ass and leaving a slug trail in his wake... 'Shit, boy, can't you do nuthin' right? Look at the mess you're makin'...' Clay paused and looked back. Before he could do anything about it, his father threw him on his back. 'Guess if I want the job done properly I'm gonna hafta do it myself!' Thor griped. Then Thor sat himself down hard on his son's face, swung the boy up by his midsection so that his mouth was at Clay's dripping hole, and commenced to eat him out. Clay moaned into his father's buns, driven into a lustful frenzy by his taunts. He shot his tongue up his father's rectum and feasted on it like a starving beggar. Acrid, tart and gritty though it was, the nastiness made Clay all the hotter... he laved Dad's hole with spit and savored the slimy brew he created there... And now Dad was siphoning out every last drop of jism from his hole. His tongue seemed to go deeper and deeper... impossibly deep, in Clay's mind... 'Sluuurp... sluuurp... sluuurp....' Then Thor was burrowing his fingers down into Clay's ass - fuck knew where the lube had come from - working it, working it, until his whole hand was inside... Clay's moans were muffled by his dad's buns, but Grandpa had loosened him up good earlier. It wasn't long before Thor was fisting his boy hard and fast... Then Thor withdrew unexpectedly and punched his son hard beneath his tightened ball sack. Clay erupted a load that squirted all the way down their hairy bodies. He screamed into his father's ass in total ecstasy and chewed at the hairs there... At last Thor let him back down on the floor. He scooped up the jism from his own fur and then licked it from his son's, working all the way up his torso and shared it with him in a hot frenching session, contrasting flavors going from tongue to tongue until it was all gone. 'Phew...' Clay gasped, as he began to get his breath back, 'Thanks, Dad. That was fucking incredible...' Dad gave a crooked smile. 'Happy Fucking 19th, son!' And he spat in his open mouth... But - ya know - affectionately like... END OF PART EIGHT