Date: Sat, 17 Mar 2001 16:29:59 -0000 From: Philip Burbidge Subject: The English Boy 27 (Gay incest: M,M,M/t,b,b) My apologies for mis-numbering the previous chapters which the editor has kindly corrected. This story, as with previous chapters, is pure invention, an adult's fantasy for adults reflecting the author's fantasy of regressing back to adolescence with the sexual experience and knowledge accrued as an adult. Real boys do not think and act as I depict them in the stories. It is emphatically not the author's intention to incite, commend or promote incest or sex with minors which can cause life-long damage. If such material is likely to offend your sensibilities, is illegal where you live, or you are yourself under age, do not read further. I welcome comments, observations and suggestions to which I will gladly reply, especially from those who have similar tastes. philip255@hotmail.com Chapter 27 'A Stately Pleasure-Dome' Part One We arrived in Zagora just as the sun was setting. The hotel was in the centre of the city which had an atmosphere of faded colonial elegance. Our luggage was taken up by teenage robe-clad porters and we made ourselves at home. The driver and his son drove off to stay with family in the ramshackle suburbs with strict instructions to pick us up at 8 AM the following morning. We were all tired and rather grubby after our shagging sessions in the back of the limousine and after a refreshing shower found we were ravenously hungry. Nothing like raunchy sex for giving you an appetite! After supper we retired to our rooms, Rachid and Hamsa to theirs, and me and dad to ours. We two boys slept the sleep of the well-fucked; our boy-pussies were a trifle tender after the rough assaults of two horny Arabs. But were we complaining? The following morning we awoke early and breakfasted, no time for fun and games before the business of the day was completed. Hamsa and I were rather frisky. With the stress of the previous day, our dads seemed to have forgotten that we hadn't cum, despite having taken two good loads of man-spunk up our boy-cunts and another down our throats from our dads! Our car arrived, only a little late, and we set off for a site some two miles to the west, guided by Rachid. Turning left at a major intersection we ground to a dusty halt in a wide, flat area where the city gave way to the arid scrub-clad desert. The land rose steadily to the west and south, and high, snow-capped mountains were visible through the shimmering morning air to the east. Zagora was located in a broad, shallow bowl. The road travelled on west, through a range of coastal hills to the seaport of Taouf, which also boasted a reasonably sized airport. Rachid clambered out of the car with an armful of maps, sketches and diagrams, and he and dad began to talk animatedly and pointed to various spots either side of the road. 'The computer plant will be sited there, just back from the road but with plenty of room for expansion at the rear, up to where the land rises,' Rachid pointed enthusiastically into the near distance. 'The health and leisure centre will be located a discreet distance to the west in the lea of those rocky outcrops and by that stand of pines. We can irrigate the land a little and plant more trees for screening. I had also thought about a covered way linking the factory and the leisure centre for privacy as much as protection from the elements. Perhaps we might consider a tunnel!' Dad laughed, 'I was saving that idea for connecting the leisure centre with the hotel! If things go well, the second phase of development could see the expansion of the assembly plant and the leisure centre and the building of a luxury hotel on that piece of land on the other side of the road. There's masses of room for the hotel itself, a couple of pools and gardens that would hide it discreetly from the road. But a tunnel underneath would allow guests and locals to come and go without drawing attention to themselves.' 'And there is always the road safety issue!' added Rachid and the two men roared with laughter. 'All this fuss over a bloody factory!' I muttered, bored with the project already. 'Language, spunk bunny!' said dad, 'Haven't you cottoned on to what we are planning yet, dumbo?' I pretended to be hurt and rolled my eyes. 'The computer plant is just a front,' continued dad. 'It will be a bona fide business enterprise but the 'health and leisure centre' that goes with it will do more that cater for the medical needs of the workers! People will think it is a philanthropic gesture by a well-meaning western company bringing employment and prosperity to a depressed area with high unemployment. But it will also provide unusual perks and earning opportunities for the workers and forbidden delights for visiting businessmen.' 'But how? It's just a dreary old computer plant!' I protested. 'Remember how attracted Arab men are to your tight little arse? And how popular Arab boys and their dads are with western dads and sons! When the carefully selected workers realise the advantages of a little 'extra-curriculum' activity that nets them a week's wages for a couple of hours work, and the pleasures of groping pretty little white boys,' he added, groping my arse, 'I think they will be queuing up to join the fun.' 'So you're planning a sort of 'dad-son' club?' I suggested, the light suddenly dawning. 'You could call it that!' replied dad with a wicked grin on his face. 'We know how popular the incest scene is, fact and fiction, so why not bring horny dads and sons together from all over the world and help boost the local economy in the process!' 'But why here? It is very old fashioned and strict. They make women wear sacks over their heads and they can't mix with men even in supermarket queues!' I protested. 'So much the better!' interrupted Rachid. 'We can either employ men or women but not mix them. As the husband is still dominant here and male unemployment is very high, we will only employ men which will keep the religious leaders happy, too! As 'relations' between men and between men and boys do not happen and yet everyone indulges in a little fun sometime in their life, it won't be difficult to keep an open secret. This is the perfect place for an international incest centre and as long as it brings in western currency and prosperity to the local people no one will question it.' 'As long as we are discreet and keep the authorities on our side with a little greasing of palms and of arses!' broke in dad, leering, 'And you two have an important role to play here.' 'Doing what?' I replied suspiciously. I had seen that look before and it invariably meant something very horny and perverted. 'You and Hamsa will 'audition' the first workers,' he said nonchalantly. 'The plant should be up and running within a couple of months and then we will be open for business.' 'But we're far too young to know who to hire for a computer business!' I squeaked, fully aware that I was naively missing a very big point. 'But it is not their prowess as technicians that you will be assessing but their willingness and ability to be sexually aroused and seduced by pretty young boys with soft mouths and tight young arses!' A never-ending line of hard, horny Arab cocks hoved into view in my perverted imagination and I stared into the distance. 'The randy little sod is fantasising about it already,' laughed Rachid. 'There will be hundreds of applications because we will be offering above average wages and good working conditions, they won't know how good until they have been working for us for a few weeks! Rachid and I will cut down the initial applications to the best looking men, most of whom will be in their thirties with families and at least one son in his early teens. To balance the group we will include some older teens and men in their forties and fifties with sons and grandsons, and try and get brothers and relatives from the same families to increase the fun. Then you two will work your way through them on the pretence of giving them a medical examination that they must pass to get a job.' 'But we don't know anything about being doctors!' I said scornfully. 'Of course you don't, my little Florence Nightingale! But Uncle Ralph will do the proper medical and you will perform small but necessary tasks afterwards and in private. Uncle Ralph will teach you to test for testicular cancer and ruptures by fondling their balls, and other little tricks that allow you to feel their chests, pinch their nipples and stroke their cocks, all the interests of medical science!' I could see that dad and Rachid had got it all worked out. 'As soon as the men start to respond to your touch by getting slightly hard, you will fondle and caress them harder and see how far they will go. As soon as their cocks are half hard you kneel down and suck them until they are rock hard and horny. If you think they are on for a fuck, you will swing your well-greased little arse round, pull down your flimsy shorts and back on to their rampant dicks. Before they know what has hit them you will be riding their cocks and they certainly won't stop until they have filled your arse with spunk! Some won't get that far and will cum in your mouth before you can get them up your arse.' 'But what if they're not interested or I don't like them?' I queried. 'Then you cut short the 'medical' making it as brief as possible. After each 'audition' you will note down on their records how they responded, the size of their cocks and balls and anything else about them that you noticed; like, were they nervous, aggressive or really enjoying it. Then Rachid and I will draw up a list of successful applicants whom we think will be good employees and 'enjoy the opportunities the jobs afford'. Dad and Rachid fell about laughing as they used 'management speak' to describe their horny enterprise. 'Those who are ready and willing to engage in man-boy sex and are open to the pleasures of dad-son sex will be offered jobs and made aware of the financial incentives for bringing along their own sons. These men are dirt-poor and offering them more money than they could earn in a month to have unbridled sex with pretty western boys and their dads will prove irresistible. Dads with two available sons will be able to make more cash and have wilder, raunchier sex than their grubby masturbatory fantasies could ever imagine.' 'The men will be told that certain intimate aspects of the medical examination will be carried out by two boys especially trained for the task to spare their modesty. I don't think we will have too many complaints!' added Rachid with a smile. 'Whose Uncle Ralph?' asked Hamsa, speaking for the first time but showing he had understood the conversation. 'He's Philip's granddad's younger brother and a trained doctor,' replied dad. 'I remember him. He was a general practitioner in London but disappeared to South- East Asia a few years ago.' I said, dredging my memory banks. 'That's right. He had a little local difficulty after some complaints from his patients!' 'Another family pervert', I thought to myself. 'If all goes to plan,' continued my father, 'the computer plant will expand to employ two or three hundred men. The health and leisure centre will include saunas, lots of private rooms of various sizes and a bar and restaurant. A major attraction will be the large Roman-style baths decorated with frescoes depicting life-sized figures from myth, legend and history having orgiastic sex with their dads, sons, brothers etc. The artist already has plans for showing Zeus with his immortal, throbbing cock stuck up Hyacinthus while his son, Apollo, fucks the boy's mouth. Wotan and Siegmund take their beautiful young offspring, Siegfried, in a frenzy of lust, and the rough, hairy one- eyed Philip of Macedon thrusts aggressively into the tight, young virgin boy-cunt of his son, Alexander the Great. Everywhere their will be paintings inciting the viewer to pursue the forbidden pleasure of male incest to the greatest heights. The artist is ransacking world history, legend and literature for dads and sons incest lovers would like to see depicted having rampant sex in glorious technicolour. The crowning glory will be the addition of a huge circular 'conference hall', large enough for hundreds of dad and son couples to have sex together in carefully choreographed incest orgies that begin in the early evening and last through the night. Hardly a minute will pass when a father is not cumming up, in or over his son, watched and cheered on by dozens of other rutting dads and sons.' He paused for breath which was becoming more and more shallow as he described his awesome project. 'You see that ditch over there?' resumed dad, bending down and whispering conspiratorially in my ear. He point to a dried up gully that began in the hills to the west and ran along side the road. 'One day soon that will be flowing with daddy- spunk!' He fondled my arse with his left-hand and his hardening cock with his right as he said this. 'What's more,' joined in Rachid, wishing to explain his contribution to the plan, 'The computer plant will allow us to wire up the entire incest centre and broadcast live incest orgies on the net! All the rooms will have at least one camera in them, depending on their size so we can video all activities, make porno movies and relay special live events. The 'conference centre' will have dozens of cameras discreetly fitted and subscribers from all around the world who can't make it to the 'incest fests' will be able to watch it on the net, choosing which camera they want to concentrate on and with the facility to zoom in and out at the touch of a mouse! So they will be able to pick out a particular dad-son team they like and watch them shag. Even zooming right in to see the father's fat, slick cock pistoning in and out of his son's arse. They'll even be able to focus in on the purple, glistening end of a spunking daddy- cock as it shoots cum into the air and over his prostate, well-fucked son!' Rachid was talking himself into shooting in his trousers as he wanked his cock through his pocket while he recounted his plans. The whole project was mind- boggling. 'But why has granddad gone off to Thailand and my uncles to Brazil and Russia?' I asked. 'Because we are looking at other suitable locations for similar projects. It looks like this will be the main headquarters of 'Incest International' but it may be possible to establish branches around the world in each continent; a bit like Disney world opening theme parks in France and Japan.' 'Yes,' joined in Rachid, 'We're in a similar business: good wholesome family entertainment!' The two daddies roared with laughter. 'But time's getting on. We have to meet some local big-wigs today: the city's governor, the military governor of the province and the chief of police. We have to get these people on our side and keep them sweet if this enterprise is going to get off the ground,' said dad seriously. Part Two We climbed back in the limousine, having woken the driver who had slept throughout our examination of the area. Our first appointment was with the governor of the city who occupied an ornate pink and white building in the city's central square. I noticed that virtually all the people on the streets wore nation dress rather than western garb, and far more women were veiled than in the capital. Rachid told me to be on my best behaviour and not speak unless spoken to. Formal courtesy and hospitality were the duties of every Arab and Moslem and it was easy for westerners to unwittingly cause offence by inappropriate behaviour. The governor was a man in his sixties, swathed in white robes and with the traditional headdress. He was short and as round as he was tall. His beaky nose separated shrewd narrow eyes, and he was constantly wiping sweat from his fleshy face with a large white handkerchief. He sported a full black moustache and beard flecked with grey. 'I hope he doesn't want servicing in return for co-operating with our dads,' I whispered to Rachid, shuddering at the thought of this grease-ball humping up and down on top of me. 'Shh!' said Rachid sharply. We drank sweet mint tea from glasses held in delicate silver holders while Rachid translated dad's plans for the computer assembly plant. The atmosphere was friendly but formal and the governor wished us well with the enterprise and promised to help as much as possible by hastening planning applications and licenses to trade. It would bring badly need investment to an under-developed region, he said. An hour later we were in the office of the Chief of Police, a stone's throw from the governor's office. This building was a modern fortress with stringent safety checks in operation, recalling the country's political and military turbulence. The Chief was very smartly attired in a beige uniform adorned with symbols of his rank. You could have cut butter with the creases in his trousers and shirt. He was a tall, slim, muscular man with strong facial features and a pencil sharp moustache on his upper lip. His dark eyes darted between his four visitors and he frequently fixed me with an emotionless gaze which I found unnerving, and I blushed. Once again, the meeting was formal but polite and Rachid recounted their project for the factory, and future plans for the hotel. The policeman's concerns were mostly with security and the affect that an influx of decadent westerners would have on a provincial conservative community. Dad tried to allay his fears and he offered his support for the enterprise providing local laws were observed on alcohol and the treatment of women. Dad assured him they would be and we moved on to the third and last appointment. We set off for the outskirts of the city where the military governor's office was housed in a large army compound. 'This man is the most important of them all,' said Rachid, 'He runs the secret service and has a finger on every pulse in the province. Nothing happens here that he isn't aware of and he has information on every person of importance in the city and region. He is more liberal than most of the military and has a powerful voice in the capital and a direct line to the government, so we need him on our side.' My heart sank as I thought of a mean, manipulative old soldier whom we had to be nice to. We passed through several security barriers, showing our papers and being waved through. Eventually, a smartly uniformed soldier opened the car door and escorted us into a large wood-panelled hallway. The general would see us shortly, we were assured, his words translated by Rachid. A few moments later the soldier returned and we were shown into an impressive office, lined with the portraits of past generals and military heroes. The general rose from his seat on the opposite side of a large polished mahogany desk. He crossed the room to greet us personally and I was delighted to discover that he was above average height (around 5' 10"), well-built but not fat, and had a thick mop of curly black hair that was heavily streaked with grey. He had dark flashing eyes and the obligatory bushy moustache that surmounted thick sensuous lips between which were strong white teeth that easily broke into a smile. I assessed his age as in the late forties or a well-preserved fifty-two. 'Welcome to Zagora! We don't often have the privilege of entertaining foreign guests. Please, be seated. Make yourselves comfortable. I have ordered some mint tea or perhaps I can tempt you to something a little stronger. 'The sun is over the yard-arm' as I believe your naval officers used to say!' He spoke perfect English in the clipped and modulated tones associated with the English upper classes, the result, he explained of two years' training in the 1980s at the Royal Military Academy outside London. All of us visibly relaxed - a mistake, perhaps? The general's fluency in English enabled dad to speak directly to him without the awkwardness of translation, and his demeanour and familiarity with western ways made explanations so much easier. The appearance of a whisky decanter and cut glass tumblers, an ice-bucket, soda siphon and soft drinks (presumably for us boys) contributed to the informal atmosphere. The general dismissed his attendant, poured the whiskies himself and offered iced coca-colas to me and Hamsa. After exchanging pleasantries, the general brought the conversation back to the building of the computer plant complex. He listened with rapt attention and didn't interrupt. It was difficult to assess from his expression what he was making of it all. 'This is all fascinating and I would like to discuss it further but I have a report to compile for the Interior Ministry on the recent border incursions to the south. I would be honoured if you would join me for dinner this evening. We could spend an hour or so discussing your plans further and then enjoy a congenial evening tasting the delicacies of this region. I will send a car to collect you from your hotel at 7 O'clock if that is convenient, gentlemen?' Rachid and dad agreed enthusiastically, thanked the general for his hospitality and asked if the boys should be in attendance that evening. 'By all means!' replied the general, 'It would be unkind to leave them out.' He shook us all firmly by the hand before showing us back to the car. 'Well that went well!' remarked dad when we were on the road. 'I'm not so sure,' said Rachid. 'I don't trust him. He knows more than he is letting on. Did you notice that he didn't even ask which hotel we were staying at? I bet he has been keeping tabs on us since you're visas were issued in London last month. Watch what you say tonight, he's no fool.' 'What did you think of him, Philip?' asked dad. 'I liked him. He reminds me a bit of granddad. He's quite good-looking for an older man.' 'Ha!' laughed dad, 'I'll tell him that this evening. An older man indeed! And you're always a sucker for old charmers, aren't you?' I ignored this implication that I was free with my favours where mature men were concerned. We sped back to the hotel for lunch and a siesta, and to prepare for the evening. Suitably scrubbed and attired we were picked up by the general's personal driver on the dot of seven. Fifteen minutes later the general greeted us in his private suite next to his office. The large, high-ceilinged room was adorned with book-cases and paintings on military themes from all round the world. There were books in English and French as well as Arabic. Large soft leather sofas provided sitting accommodation for a dozen and the polished wooden floor was strewn with thick handmade carpets. The general was obviously a man of culture and refinement. A pair of large polished wooden doors with bright brass fittings stood open at one end of the room revealing a large airy dining room with a large table formally set with crystal glasses and silver dinner service for six guests. The moroccan leather sofas were arranged in a semicircle facing a large television screen with a video set lodged beneath it. The general invited us to be seated and dispensed whisky to dad and Rachid, and soft drinks to me and Hamsa. There was a knock at the door and a small, attractive boy a little younger than myself entered the room. 'Ah, Yusuf! Gentlemen and boys, this is my son, Yusuf. He is just eleven years old.' Yusuf walked shyly across the room and clambered on to his father's knee. 'Before we begin our discussions I would like to show you a brief video clip that you may find of interest,' said the general nonchalantly, and pressed the remote control. The tv spluttered into life and the screen soon revealed a young, blond western boy, his feet held high and wide over his head and a heavy hairy man old enough to be his father pile driving his cock in and out of the boy's arsehole. There was an audible intake of breath around the room. The camera panned over the boy's contorted face, revealing an ecstatic smile and lips uttering the cry, "Fuck me, daddy, fuck me. Fill me with your cock! Fuck me full of daddy-spunk!' The screen was then filled with the father's face, twisted with lust and intense pleasure. A sudden click, and the screen blackened. Shell-shocked and either red with embarrassment or white with fear, we turned to look at the general. He was wearing a broad satisfied grin that stretched from ear to ear. As we were all speechless, he broke the silence. 'I thought you might recognise the actors! I complement you, Alex, on your artistic direction and performance and the remarkable oral and anal accommodation of your rapacious off-spring!' Dad burbled something unintelligible and my mouth fell open. I couldn't decide whether I had just been insulted or complimented. The general continued, 'I picked up this compelling video last month in Amsterdam and am more than familiar with each sequence. You certainly have an interesting and enterprising family. I am particularly taken with final orgy involving uncles and grandfather, I believe.' 'So you are aware of our family activities?' Dad struggled to find his voice. Rachid was frozen with terror. We boys just kept quiet and let the adults do the talking. 'You could say that. This video is the most disgusting, depraved and perverted I have ever seen. It is also the most exciting, erotic and spunk-provoking! Now am I right in thinking that your computer enterprise isn't exactly what it appears to be? I advise you to answer me with openness and candour. I know more about you all than you are aware and could be of considerable assistance to your project.' The general sat back in his ample leather arm chair, held his son in his arms and waited. Dad then embarked upon a detailed explanation of the entire project, including the establishment of an international incest centre. When he had finished, and downed a couple of large whiskies, a silence fell on the room. Still displaying little emotion other than amused openness, the general commented, 'This is the most salacious and audacious enterprise I have ever heard of,' and he absent-mindedly ran his hands up and down his sons bare thighs. 'If you are willing to include me in your plans and accept my advice, I will do all within my power to assist you in implementing the plan.' Dad and Rachid sighed audibly with relief. The general restarted the video with the sound turned off. The film reached the point where I was being deluged with my father's spunk. 'Although my son and I also enjoy a close relationship,' continued the general euphemistically, 'I have never engaged in sex with another father and son. If you would indulge me, before we eat, I would appreciate it if we could all get to know each other a little better.' As I was seated next to my father and Hamsa next to Rachid on separate couches, the two fathers took this as their cue to grope their sons. To the evident delight of the general, dad indicated I should stand, whereupon he fondled and groped me in full view of the general who suggested we all move to the widest sofa which could seat all three men. We sons stood between our fathers' open legs while they groped and stripped us. When we were stark naked, our fathers fondled our little, smooth, tight balls and masturbated are small hard cocks, causing shivers of pleasure to pass through our bodies. The fathers appreciated seeing each other work their sons' cocks and caress their perfectly formed buttocks. They then stretched out their hands and felt each others' sons silken bodies and private parts. For the general, this was a fantasy come true, as he fondled three young boys together, including his own youngest son. Taking their cue, again, from dad, the three men stood up and swapped places with their offspring. We boys pawed and clawed at our dads' crotches making their imprisoned cocks as hard and horny as possible. I was the first to extract my dad's prick, showing his hard thick dick to the general and Yusuf. Hamsa was the next, hauling out his father's excited piece of meat. Yusuf was the last, struggling with his father's trousers. I put this down to his limited experience but only when I saw the bulge in his open trousers did I realise it was the size of the general's cock. It was huge. Yusuf pulled back his father's underwear to expose a mammoth organ that exceeded anything I had ever seen before. All our eyes were on the general's crotch, to his obvious enjoyment. When fully revealed the massive member pointed towards the ceiling. Yusuf placed both hands firmly round it, completely failing to encircle it, but working the veiny, tree-like shaft from its broad base to the spade-like head which was already producing copious amounts of precum. Yusuf bent forward and licked the end. 'It's enormous!' gasped dad, 'Can the boy take it?' 'Unfortunately not,' replied the general with a sigh, 'It is one of the problems of having an outsize organ that few can accommodate it. Perhaps one day ...' 'Would you like to watch us fuck our sons?' said Rachid, obviously feeling sorry for the general, unable to sample the full delights of dad-son sex. 'Indeed I would! My son and I can learn a great deal by watching you at very close quarters and joining in where we may,' he answered enthusiastically. 'Please do!' said dad, who wanted to get his hands on Yusuf and see the three boys grapple with the general's huge prick. The three dads stripped for action and the general, sporting a pair of large, handsome balls and a broad hairy chest, produced lubricants and towels from an antique kist in the corner. He and Yusuf watched as Hamsa and I sucked our dad's dicks, licked their balls and clawed at their hairy, muscular chests. The general stroked and fondled his sons as he watched and every so often would bend his knees and rub his giant cock up and down the boy's arsecrack. It would then appear from between Yusuf's legs like a third leg sticking up in the air. Dad lifted my head from his cock by the hair and turned me round. 'I'm ready to fuck him. Do you want to watch?' The general and his son gathered round eagerly and watched my dad grease up his cock and my arsehole and then poise his member ready for the assault. 'Now watch carefully and take note,' said the general to his son, 'We're going to watch daddies and sons have sex together at first hand.' 'Would you like to hold my cock while I shove it in?' said dad, thoughtfully. Yusuf and his father wrapped their hands round my dad's dick and the general fondled my testicles and wanked by dick as dad eased his cock inside me. 'Look, son. Philip's taking his dad's cock up him, just like in the film. Isn't he a clever boy! You'll be able to do this one day. Watch. Look! He's starting to fuck him now; fuck him properly. See! His cock is going right the way up. Philip can take the whole of his father's prick and he loves it!' I was squirming with delight and getting a real kick out of this commentary and being watched so intently by this father and son team. By our side, Rachid was performing the same act on Hamsa. The general and Yusuf stood in front of both rutting couples and groped between their legs, feeling the big, hard daddy-dicks thrusting in and out of their sons' tight young boy-cunts, cradling the swinging spunk-filled balls and wanking the hard little boy-dicks that were bouncing up and down with the force of their fathers' thrusting. Thrilled by the sight of the general's massive cock, I grabbed it and tried to force the head down my throat. Dad laughed, 'I knew he wouldn't be able to resist it as soon as he saw the size of it. He just loves dad-cock and won't be beaten!' He pulled Yusuf towards him by the cock and wanked the boy while he watched me suck the general's cock as he fucked my arse. I got the great anvil-headed cockhead in my mouth and found I could just get my tongue to swirl around it and take an extra inch or so down my throat. Both my hands were wrapped around the shaft and there was still plenty of cock left over. I guessed it was around 27 or 28 cms long (nearly 11 inches) but it was the diameter that was astounding. Like a telegraph pole, it was as thick at the head as at the base. The way it was forcing my lips and cheeks apart, I estimated its girth at 22 or 23 cms (nearly 9"). The mere sight of it excited all of us, and the spectacle of me desperately doing battle with it drove dad, Rachid and the general wild. 'Yes, son, go for it! Suck the monster! I bet you'd like that fucker up you, wouldn't you, eh? Can you feel that massive dick easing its way up?! Do you reckon you could take it, eh?' 'I'm too big for even this little cock-whore, I reckon,' said the general, disappointed on missing out on the real shagging. 'I don't know,' replied dad, 'He can take his Uncle Winston's thick black negro cock up him after I've got him good and loose. Do you want to have a go? What do you think, son? Do you reckon you could take it?' Never one to pass up a challenge, I agreed to try. 'I'll have a go dad, if the general's not too rough!' The general was beside himself with lust. This was more than he dared hope for. A tight, young western boy-cunt wrapped around his dick. Even whores of both sexes had only done it for the money and here was a lad who genuinely wanted it up him and with his dad's blessing! Dad withdrew his steaming cock and swivelled me round to face him. I clamped my hands on his hips and my mouth around his cock. Dad held me firmly by the shoulders to steady me and I felt the general prise my arsecheeks apart. Rachid and Hamsa manoeuvred themselves into a position where they could watch and Yusuf stood by his father, eager to see him fuck a boy and be available for his father to grope him while he was doing it. 'Feed it to him a bit at a time. Keep it moving but don't push too hard,' advised dad. I felt the great mushroom-headed spunk canon move into position and test my arse- ring. On the third attempt, the mighty weapon penetrated my defences and the cockhead forced its way inside me. My squeals and squawks were suffocated by dad's cock in my throat. I focussed all my attention on sucking dad's dick to take away from the discomfort in my rear end. 'Look, son. I'm inside him! I'm up him! Watch daddy fuck! Watch daddy fuck!' he yelled breathlessly as he slid more and more cock inside me. 'That's fantastic! What a fucking boy-cunt! So soft, so tight, so warm! Like a tight velvet glove!' I felt the awesome member push inexorably further and further inside me, millimetre by millimetre. I sucked furiously on dad's dick and lashed my own as I sought to accommodate the general. 'That's it, son, you're doing fine. You're doing really well. Take the general's cock, and give him his first good boy fuck. He'll take a bit more, general, and you can increase the pace, too. Wrap your hand round your prick. That way you can fuck him harder without ramming it in too far.' The general took him at his word and I felt the shark-headed organ brush against my prostrate gland sending waves of almost unendurable pleasure ricocheting around my young body. Dad had to hold me very firmly as I writhed under the assault. ''Look, son. Look, son! I'm fucking him, I'm fucking him! I'm fucking Philip's arse, I'm fucking Philip's arse. Hold daddy's balls, hold daddy's balls!' The general was more excited than he ever remembered being in his life before and was incapable of not repeating himself. He made is son crawl between his legs and watch his cock as it moved back and forth up my rectum. Yusuf cradled his father's testicles as they swung to and fro and fondled himself. 'I'm nearly cumming! Can't hold out much longer!' yelled the general in staccato syllables, 'I want to fuck my spunk into his arse while my son watches and I grope and masturbate him.' 'Right!' said dad, taking control. 'You do that and let us know when you start to cum. I'll shoot my load over Philip's face and in his mouth so you can see a real son eat his father's load. Rachid, bring Hamsa over here so the general can see you when you cum in his arse. That way he gets to see a real dad spunk over his son and up his son while he gets his own rocks off!' I was thinking I couldn't take anymore cock or shagging. I was at the end of my tether as the huge prick pistoned in and out of my sore, buggered rectum. Dad came to my aid. With a great roar, he whipped his spunking cock out of my mouth, placed it on my bottom lip and fired salvo after salvo of hot daddy-cream into my mouth and over my face. 'Look, general! Look! I'm shooting over my son's face! I'm filling his mouth with his own dad's spunk! Watch me cum, general. Watch me fucking cum!' Almost immediately to the general's right, Rachid bellowed, 'I'm cumming, general, I'm fucking spunk into my boy's arse. Watch me! Watch me! Look! I'm cumming! I'm filling my son's arse with incest daddy-spunk!' His hips bucked and Hamsa was thrown around like a rag doll, only held in place by his father's firm grip. There was no doubt that Rachid was having a tremendous spunk-up in his son's boy-cunt. I felt the general's cock expand inside me even more and knew the end was nigh. Soon the biggest cock I had ever seen, let alone taken, was about to explode inside me. I was aching to released the pent-up cum in my own little balls and couldn't hang on any longer. 'Yes! Yes!' screamed the general, 'That's what I want to see! Dads shooting spunk! Sons drowning in their fathers' spunk. Dads filling their sons' boy-cunts with spunk! Spunk! Spunk! Incest spunk. My incest spunk up my little son! Oh Yes!!' As the general uttered this final paean, he released a cascade of cream deep inside my bowels. He thrust as much of his spunking canon up me as he dare, pressed his son to him and kissed him fiercely as he did so. 'I'm cumming inside him, son. Watch! I'm shooting all my daddy-cum up him! Watch me! I'm doing this for you, son. One day, you'll get all your daddy's spunk and you'll be daddy's special boy for ever!' Hamsa and I released our boyish loads as we were filled with man-cum. As the general's orgasmic convulsions subsided, he violently masturbated his son to a dry climax. The boy writhed and squealed as his young body was wracked with pleasure. This obviously wasn't the first time the general had brought his son off. As calm returned, the general withdrew his cock from my battered rectum, saying, 'I would never have thought it! That was the best fuck I have ever had. And to watch two father's have their sons in front of me as I shagged was the most exciting sexual experience of my life. You have my full support for your project, gentlemen. More than that, I hope to be an active contributor to the proceedings! Now, I think we should clean ourselves up and prepare for dinner. I have worked up quite an appetite on your son's arsehole! I hope he is able to sit comfortably at the table. Should I call for a cushion?' *********************************** To be continued in Chapter 28 when we learn more about the general and how he came by the video of Philip and his family.