Date: Fri, 29 Mar 2024 13:28:12 -0700 From: Boy Mercury X Subject: Fuck Intervention WARNING: This story includes elements that may be disturbing for some readers, including consensual sexual relations between men who are closely related. It is intended for adults only. This story is fiction, and is in no way an endorsement of such relationships. This author adamantly rejects any justifications for such relationships or activities in real life. This remastered story replaces the version published in 2017. Copyright, Boy Mercury X, 2024. Nifty is a free service that depends on your donations to survive. Please give generously at http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html You can find me on Twitter @TheMercuryJones, or email me at boymercuryx@gmail.com. I'd love to hear from you. FUCK INTERVENTION 1. JOE My Dad was not like the other dads in the neighborhood. Not by a long shot. We lived in the same Italian neighborhood where he grew up, and his buddies were mostly the same guys he hung out with as a kid. He still got together with them at least once a week to play cards, shoot hoops, or get coffee and talk about how nothing's as good as it used to be. They had jobs at the same factory and, except for my dad, wives and kids and responsibilities, widening bellies and grief. Dad was different. He was 36, and though he was a full grown man with a physical job, he lived like a teenager. Since my mom got out of Dodge when I was a kid, we stayed in the flat his parents owned at no cost, so the money he earned was his to spend on things he liked, like his convertible sports car. His mom, my gram, did most of our cooking and cleaning and laundry, and I did the rest. His only responsibility was me, his kid, and that was a no-brainer. I took care of myself. Dad was a flirt with any female he wasn't closely related to. He could talk to any woman or girl, and always knew what to say to charm them. His looks didn't hurt. He had a long face with a clean cut jawline, straight dark eyebrows set against dark olive skin that tanned ruddy in the summer, and a sexy side smile. He worked out ever since he was a skinny kid, so he was still slim, but fit. He had abs, nice swollen pecs and square shoulders and a back like a panther. He wore snug tight t-shirts that showed off his torso, and 30-inch waist jeans that rode low on his hips. There weren't a ton of women to go after in our neighborhood, where all the families knew each other, but he made do. Everyone knew everyone else's business, and everyone went to the same bowling alleys, pizza places, bakeries and grocery stores. I didn't know where he got his girls, but when he did he wouldn't come home for a night or a few. But it never got more serious than that, and I didn't meet any of them, for the most part. He was a stud, and he liked his freedom. My aunt Lynn's sister-in-law Dawn came to visit once, and Dad was really into her. She was pretty and young and new. I spied them making out once, and even though it made me queasy seeing them like that, the way he talked to her so close, and then with his tongue in her mouth and his hands on her boobs over her clothes. She went back home to Atlanta after a couple of weeks, and things got back to normal. He even flirted with girls my age too. Like once we were driving by where Charlene Macchia was walking. She was a pretty girl from school and she liked me, so I said hey to her out the window. She turned around and Dad pulled over. She asked what we were doing, and he said just enjoying the view. He didn't mean anything by it, it's just how he was. But she said, *Oh are you*, and almost purred. It was like I wasn't even there, which was annoying because I was the one who knew them both. But I was also proud that a pretty girl like Charlene Macchia was into my dad. Even though I was kind of a fag, I had kind of a protection because of my dad. All the guys knew him from the neighborhood playground, where they all played basketball, or hung out and talked about girls and sports. He was popular because he was so good at all those things. So sometimes if it looked like I was going to get roughed up, some guy would be like *That's Joe's kid* and then they'd leave me alone. I felt like it was because my dad was so special, but I didn't care, just so I didn't get hassled. But feeling some of his cred on me felt good. Even though sometimes I wanted a regular dad who would ask me about school or tell me what to do, I liked having a stud dad. The hard thing was that I had a non-stop boner for him myself. He was so hot, and so often hardly dressed, just in his jeans loose around his hips, shirtless or in a tank top, and always on the hunt for pussy so he always had this scent of sex on him. I wished he would be into me and I could give him all the sex he wanted, and take over the household tasks and we could be like married, which is dumb because married is the last thing he wanted to be. 2. THE INTERVENTION One Sunday some of the guys showed up at our place, which was kind of weird because usually the guys get together on Fridays or Saturdays. There was Big Nick, Vince Macchia, Fat Tony and my Uncle Don. Also, two other guys I didn't usually see, cousin Mario the cop who was a lot younger, and Chisel, a tough guy whose real name I didn't even know. Big Nick wasn't a regular part of Dad's crew in school because he was like 10 years older. He was a foreman at the factory and kind of the most respected, because even though he was older he was the toughest, and no one fucked with him. He was almost as broad as tall, with a close-cropped crown of salt and pepper hair, with big beefy arms with fur all over like a gorilla, maybe because his ma was Greek. I said I'd go to my room, because it looked like a guys' night, but Big Nick said to stay put and not to go anywhere. Fat Tony pulled two six-packs out of a brown paper bag and everyone took one. Big Nick said I could have one and Dad didn't care, so I cracked one open, just like the guys. "Joe," said Big Nick, "this here is a whaddya call, an intervention. So you're gonna sit down and you're gonna listen, because some things gotta change. And you, kid," he looked at me, "you stay sitting right there, don't say a word." "He's just a kid," said Uncle Don, my Aunt Lynn's husband, but Big Nick wouldn't budge. Dad said what the Hell, and Big Nick explained. "Joe, this lifestyle or whatever you call it, I see why it works for you. But it's causing trouble. You can't keep getting with girls from the families. You're dogging guys' sisters and daughters and whatever the fuck, and the guys are pissed. So we're here to set things straight. "The way I see it, if you want out of this you got a few choices. One, you get out of the neighborhood and stay out, which I don't see happening. Two, you get married to one girl and stay married. Not likely. Three, you become a fucking priest, which I don't think the Church is that hard up for. "Or, four, I guess, tonight you get what's coming to you." Dad tried to BS his way out of it, saying it's not like Nick says, his reputation is just talk, but he'll be careful, but they call him on his shit, probably for the first time in his life. He puts on a little show of treating it serious, but you could see it was a big joke to him because of that sexy side smile of his. "We figured we might have to show how serious this shit is, Joe. You might not like this, but we gotta punctuate this sentence, so to speak. We're gonna' have to get physical." Big Nick nodded to Cousin Mario the cop and Chisel, who both got up, like it was a plan, and they went to the front and back door of our flat. Every guy in the neighborhood knows that means they're keeping watch, so stay clear. Hell, even I knew it and I never got into shenanigans like all these guys. Dad tried to laugh it off. He got up on his feet and pulled his t-shirt clear over his head and tossed it aside. He slapped his meaty pecs and cocked his chin. I don't think he'd been in a fight since he was my age, but he knew the posture. "Okay, you want to fight?" he asked. "Cominciare." Cominciare means *commence*, or get started, which is kind of Italian for *come at me*. But Big Nick shook his head, no. "We ain't here to fight." He has his own side smile. Vince Macchia pulled out of a paper bag a tub of Crisco and a white jock strap, and this black rubber looking thing I'd never seen before, kind of acorn shaped, and put them right on the coffee table. Big Nick looked right at Dad, and said, "We're here to fuck." 3. PREPARING Dad started to see this was maybe more serious than he thought, and looked like he might make a move for the door, but there were four guys around the table and two more at the doors. They weren't all in great shape like my dad, but they were strong, so he stayed where he was. "Here's how this is gonna' go down," said Big Nick. "Every guy in this room is gonna fuck you in the ass, right here, so you take a lesson. Mario the cop and Chisel are standing guard so no one gets in and no one gets out. That's two less for you. Congratulations. Tomorrow your cousin Mario the cop is gonna spread the word that we all played poker tonight, so no one's gonna take your word for shit, Joe, if you try to tell anyone anything different. "Now you can do this the easy way or the hard way, but I gotta tell you, some of the boys would not be disappointed with the hard way." Then he turned to me and said, "And you keep your faggoty ass right there, no offense, because I ain't having you cause trouble. And you might as well see this shit so you learn a lesson too. Have another beer if you want." Dad might have thought it was a bluff or empty threat, but still had to be the stud, so he said okay, okay, because tough guys don't act scared. The guys all moved on my dad at once, and he looked surprised, despite everything Nick said. And for as fit as he was, he couldn't take them all. They held his arms, undid his jeans and pulled everything off, so he was standing there naked, his ass and dick and everything. Even then he looked good. He was long and lean, with muscles in all the right places and even had those v-cuts that run from his obliques down to his pubes. His chest hair was soft looking, and hugged the underside of his pecs, running down his abs into a dark bush, where his big dick hung out over his balls. Big Nick eyed it. "You know," he said, "Sicily used to be run by the Arabs, and those horny fucks had their way with the women, so every Sicilian today has some horny Arab in them. I think all yours is right there in that prick, and that's the source of your trouble." Dad kind of smirked. I'd seen his dick before only in glances, but now, full on I could see it looked like it might be eight inches, and thickest in the middle, and so dark it was almost purple. It looked made for fucking, which I guess it was. Nick tossed him the jockstrap and said to put it on so the guys wouldn't have to look at his junk hanging out all night. Dad caught it from the air with one hand, the other cupping his balls and slowly letting them drop again, another show of what a man he is. He put one leg through the strap openings and then the other, stuffed his junk into the pouch, pulled the waistband up around his slim waist. The jock pouch was good and full, and the straps framed his ass, the only pale part of his body, with soft dark hair cupping the undersides just like it did on his pecs. Again he said, "Cominciare." Commence. Big Nick said okay, and the guys were on him again. Vince Macchia had hands on his back and shoulders, Uncle Don and Fat Tony were grabbing at his legs, tripping him up and throwing him off balance. But he didn't fight or anything, he put up his hands to show he wasn't gonna be a problem. So they got him up onto the sofa, knees on the cushions, elbows on the backside for support. His back was arched, so his pale ass was exposed, with that soft looking hair clutching the cheeks and the space between, and his legs were spread. Big Nick gave a nod to Fat Tony who opened the Crisco tub, picked up the black rubber acorn shaped thing, and rolled it in the white stuff. "Get it good and covered," Big Nick said, as my dad watched over his shoulder. When Fat Tony held it up it looked covered with frosting or whipped cream. Fat Tony stepped up behind Dad and rubbed the tip of Crisco topped thing right at Dad's hole. "What the fuck?" asked Dad. Fat Tony just smeared it between his hairy cheeks, and started to nudge the tip into him, pushing gently at first. As he got more in, he had to push harder, and Dad grunted with discomfort, grabbing tight on the back of the sofa. After a minute Dad reached his hand back and said, "I'll do it." He took the base in hand and pushed, breathing heavier and making low grunts as it spread him open to the widest part, when he groaned "Fuck." Then he pushed a little more and it sank right into him, sighing with relief when the widest part was in, and there was just the stem for his hole to close down on. That had to stretch his hole too, but not as much, and there was a flat base that covered his hole like a seal. Fat Tony tapped on it, and wiped his hand on a towel. Even then Dad had to show he was in charge, acting tough while his insides adjusted to the presence in him. Big Nick said he could sit down if he wanted to, which Dad did, trying to find a comfortable position with that thing in him. "You'll thank me for this," said Big Nick, but Dad glared at him. The guys talked their usual shit for a few minutes, about work and sports and other things I don't know about, so like Dad I was silent. I sipped my beer while the guys knocked back theirs more heartily. After about fifteen minutes Dad blew up a little. "Are we done here?" Big Nick turned to my dad and said, "You can go shit that out in the bathroom, and anything that comes out after it. The smoother this is for everyone the better." Dad got up and walked funny to the bathroom where we all knew there's no way out except a small window just big enough for a cat. He was in there for a while and I couldn't see him, but the door was open and I could hear him say "Fuck!" I guess when he got that thing out of his hole. Then I heard the sound of solids hitting toilet water, which I figured was shit. After a few more minutes he flushed and came out again, still defiant, his jock pouch packed full. Nick nodded to the sofa, and Dad resumed his place on his knees, ass up and back arched. His hole was free of the black thing, but I could see it was still slicked up from the Crisco, and his sphincter ring was more visible from being prepped. Dad said some bullshit about how he got the point that this was serious, and that was enough, but the guys weren't having it. "Now we begin," said Big Nick. 4. VINCE The other guys cleared the coffee table away, and Fat Tony and Uncle Don sat down while Vince Macchia pulled off his blue sweatshirt. He was in just a white t-shirt and his Carhartts, and he didn't wear his t-shirt snug like my dad, just like a regular t-shirt. I'd known Vince most of my life because I went to school with his kids, and he worked at the factory with my dad. He always just seemed like an ordinary dad, nice looking in the face, but now a little older with reddish hair and glasses. In good shape, maybe from all his physical work at his bakery. He wasn't a stud like my dad, just a regular father. He got up behind Dad and unzipped his pants. "Vince," said Dad, "what the fuck man, we went to school together." "That's right," said Vince, "and that's why I'm gonna be easy on you, instead of hard, which is what I oughta be." I'd never heard him talk tough like that. He always seemed nice. He shoved down his pants and underwear, and his dick was more than half hard and growing. Not as big as my dad's, not as dark, but a good size. His bush and ass hair were reddish, like the short cropped hair on his head. While he stroked his dick to a full erection with his pants still around his calves, he waddled closer to Dad's rear, and said "Joe, you're my pal almost my whole life and I gotta hear you're making moves on my daughter? "Charlene is 16 Joe, 16 fucking years old." As his anger rose his dick swelled in his hand. He positioned it at Dad's hole, aiming the head right for the greased sphincter. "I never touched her, Vince," my dad declared. "Just said hi one time." "Never touched her yet," Vince answered. "But you're thinking about it, right? You ain't fooling no one Joe." He pressed the head of his dick to Dad's lubed hole. "You deserve this, you fuck." Dad was saying, "Vince, Vince, come on," when the head pushed into him, and a minute later half the shaft followed. Dad groaned out loud and said "Oh FUCK." He bit his bottom lip as the rest of Vince's dick pushed inside him. "Almost twenty years I've been married," Vince said, pulling his dick back and then thrusting in again. "And I never was unfaithful once, and now it's a prick like you I put my dick in." Vince started grinding into Dad, who caught his breath with every hit. "This is for making me into a cheater," Vince said, and this time slammed Dad. "This is for sweet talking my kid," he said, and slammed again. His voice was quavering when he said, "And this is for what you thought you were gonna do," and slammed into Dad even harder. Dad was gasping from Vince smashing deep in him, filling his chute with his daddy dick. "Jesus fuck," he groaned. "Push against it like you're taking a shit," Big Nick suggested to Dad, "I hear that'll help." "Fuck you," Dad grunted to Big Nick while Vince started to pound his ass faster, "No fuck YOU Joe," Vince gasped, thrusting harder. "Not --" slam, "my-" slam, "daughter" - slam! Then Vince seized up and said, "Oh God, oh God, oh fuck I'm cumming," and his hips ground hard into Dad as he was nutting right inside my father's ass. He stayed that way as his balls unloaded, and then he pulled out, mostly still erect, muttering, "Okay, I'm done." "Geez, that was fast?" said Big Nick. "What was that, 5 minutes?" "I guess," said Vince, breathing hard, his dick hanging there smeared with lube from inside Dad. "I made my point." Big Nick gave a shrug, and Vince Macchia went to the bathroom to wash off. 4. FAT TONY Dad turned around to sit again, like it was all over, squeezing his butt cheeks together and wincing, when he saw that Fat Tony already had his sweatpants down, and was stroking his own erection. "Whoa, whoa," said Dad, "I ain't gonna take it from this fat fuck?" "The Hell you're not," spat back Fat Tony. Tony wasn't the fattest guy in the world, or even the neighborhood. It was just a nickname, like everyone had. He was top heavy with big shoulders and a big man belly, and kind of jowly in the face. His dick looked like a good size, kind of curved upward and thick throughout. Tony stepped nearer to Dad, who said. "What'd I do to you Tony, you don't have no daughter. You ain't even married." "That's right," said Fat Tony, his hard-on nearing my dad's face. "I don't have a wife, I don't have kids, because of you." Dad rolled his eyes and shook his head. "That ain't on me." "You know Joe, we used to run together when we were kids and do dumb shit together. I liked you. So I gain a little weight in high school, and one day you call me Fat Tony, and then I'm the butt of every joke. That shit sticks, Joe. So that is on you. And you don't even care." "There were like five Tonys in high school, I had to call you something," Dad said. "Then you got a wife. And after that then you get all the pussy you want and I get jack shit. What's a guy like me supposed to do competing with you?" For a big guy, Fat Tony moved fast when he was angry. He grabbed my dad and pulled him up, and then shoved him down on his knees, his face near Fat Tony's fat dick. "Why don't you suck my dick, you asshole?" Fat Tony asked. Defiant, Dad wrapped his lips around Fat Tony's boner, a few inches of it, with his cheeks puffed out as if to touch it as little as possible, and then released it. "That what you wanted, Tony?" he asked. Tony grabbed Dad's head and pulled it forward, getting his dick in Dad's mouth and shoving it in, I guess to Dad's throat, because Dad gagged and his chest heaved and he made a croaking noise. He let Dad's head go, and Dad pulled back, with a string of spit dangling from his bottom lip. "Tastes like shit, Ton," Dad said with a smirk. "It's gonna taste like your shit in a minute," Tony smirked back Fat Tony lifted my dad by one arm, and shoved him down onto the sofa, this time on his back, with his ass up on the arm rest. It was amazing to me how easily he throws my dad around, like a toy. He got between my dad's legs, stroked his dick and asked out loud, "Where's that Crisco?" "You hungry, Tony?" asked Dad, in response. "Leave a little for my ass." "Fuck you," Fat Tony grunted, pushing Dad's legs, back to expose his hole. "I was trying to be nice." "Ton, I was just busting your...uff!" Dad grunted as Tony shoved the whole of his dick into my dad, in one swift thrust, way faster than Vince did earlier. I could see my dad's hands tense as if he was about to push Fat Tony away. But he didn't. "You like that, you asshole?" Fat Tony asked. He had to lean down to keep his dick level with Dad's hole, pumping his cock in again and again. "You got away with a lot of shit, but it's over now." He ran his hands almost tenderly over my dad's torso, from the soft fur on his abs up to his stiff nipples and his squared off shoulders, and then down to the full pouch holding Dad's junk, which he squeezed, inducing a moan from Dad. With his mass behind every thrust, Fat Tony slammed into my dad, making him shudder and gasp as the sofa under him lurched. "Look at those titties bounce," chuckled Big Nick, laughing at my dad's pec muscles swaying up and down with every one of Tony's hefty thrusts. I was nearly hypnotized myself, and I guess Tony was too, based on how he was staring and licking his lips. He thrust faster and faster and all of a sudden was cumming, his hips making these fast little thrusts while he huffed for air, dumping everything he had. "Fuck, oh fuck," he groaned, sperming my dad. Only when he was drained did he stop, and then his spent dick dropped out. Tony stood up straight, his wet dick still sticking out. He spat on my father. "I ain't even that fat!" Big Nick held up his hands. "Enough, enough. Tony, you're a little fat. That's all. Come on Don, you're up." 5. UNCLE DON Uncle Don wasn't from the neighborhood. He wasn't even Italian. He was blonde and baby faced and was in because he married my Aunt Lynn, and because he was a good ball player. He worked as a mail sorter at the post office or something. He wasn't hot to me, just ordinary, but I knew a lot of the women went for his blond hair and slight southern drawl. "What the fuck Don, you're married to my sister. I didn't do shit to you," Dad spat out. "Not to me, but who fucked my sister when she was in town?" asked Don in reply. "You talked her into it. Now she's getting a divorce and there's all kinds of family drama and shit." "I didn't talk her into anything, Don. She was already splitting up," my dad declared. "This is bullshit. Plus..." He froze up when Don dropped his jeans and underwear, and his fat nine-inch log of a cock flopped out, still growing. "What th -- no fucking way!" yelled Dad, looking around at the other guys, maybe for a reality check. And to tell the truth every guy in the room was kind of shocked too, me included. Uncle Don, who knew you had a monster dick? My Dad just shook his head and said no, no way. "You fucked my sister, Joe," said Don. He was usually soft spoken, but not today. "You fuck my sister all the time," my Dad answered. "You don't see me making a thing of it!" Big Nick intervened. "You guys both fucked each other's sisters," he said. "So maybe just put half in. That's all." Dad looked pissed, but just said "Fucking whatever," like he's still tough. He got up and took a position in the chair Don had been sitting in, on his knees, ass up. Uncle Don smeared his monster dick with some more Crisco, and wiped his hand off right on his shirt, making a stain. The greasy stuff made a smacking sound as he worked his dick, which stiffened to what I guessed was about 10 inches, and thick throughout. His nuts were big too, but those weren't the issue. Uncle Don put a hand on the small of my dad's back and pressed the helmet head in, and then a little more. "Half, Don," grumbled my dad. "Fucking half." Uncle Don started easing more of his big prick in, guiding it with his hand. He gave Dad a minute to adjust every time he went in a little deeper, and Dad seemed okay, talking fast breaths, like those women in labor you see on TV. "That's gotta be half," Dad said. "Almost," replied Uncle Don, "just a little more." When he was about to half his dick, Uncle Don pulled back some, and slid back in again, like he was testing that was ready. But Dad just said, "Oh shit." Uncle Don fucked into him, in and out, but stayed at about half his length. I don't know how he did it, but practice, maybe. He kept it up and all the guys and me watched, amazed. "Just a little more," Don whispered. His hips looked closer to Dad's ass than before, and Dad was grunting more. "Good boy," Big Nick said under his breath, but I wasn't sure if he meant Don or Dad. Don was fucking faster and Dad was moaning, and he whispered again, "Just a little more," and then I couldn't see anything between them, because Don was sinking his whole fucking dick into my dad. "Fuck, fuck," my dad gasped. "That's enough, Don." But Uncle Don couldn't stop, and even though Dad said enough, he spread his legs a little wider and ground his ass against Don's thrusts. I thought maybe Don never got to do this before, and now he and Dad were both trapped in the pleasure of it. He was running his hands over Dad's back with his eyes closed like with this look on his face I never saw on him before, and Dad was pushing his own ass back against Don, like he wanted it all in him. So Dad took more of a pounding, his ass up and his arms dropping, slumping on the chair, Don's hands holding his hips in place. "Just a little," whispered Don, but he was all up in Dad already, right to his big flopping balls. "Just a..." Uncle Don kind of spasmed, and pulled Dad back on his big dong and made a loud groan, and his monster cock was up in Dad as far as it could go, gushing his cum up in there while Dad whimpered. When he was done, Don's cock slid straight out of my dad, shiny and greasy, more than half hard and still bigger than any dick has any business being. "No one ever did it like that before," Don muttered, nodding towards my dad's ass. Dad reached back to feel his hole. It was all purple looking, like the color of his own dick, and twitching, and his fingertips slid gently in and out of it. 6. BIG NICK Uncle Don went to the bathroom to wash off, and Dad eased down into the chair, careful how he sat on his throbbing rear. He was sweating all over his chest and neck, and sweat was running down his sides from his armpits. "We're fucking done here now," he said. Big Nick passed him a beer. "More than halfway, Joe." "Don counts for two," Dad said, and he had a point. But also, it wasn't like he never fibbed a little to get laid. "Joe," said Big Nick, "if I put your ass in a sling and hung it on any street in this neighborhood, there'd be a line of guys a block long to fuck you it, just to teach you a lesson. You're getting off easy." Don came back, pulling his sweats up. Vince Macchia was shifting in his chair, biting his fingernails. And Fat Tony just had his eyes on my dad. Big Nick gave Dad a shrug and said, "We're almost done." He stood up and unzipped his gray sweatshirt and then peeled off the white tank top underneath. He had a densely muscled frame, covered with hair, even up onto his shoulders and the small of back. He really did look like a silverback gorilla, thick necked, burly shouldered and with long beefy arms and hands like mitts. He dropped his jeans and briefs, and he was just as muscled under those as he was on top, with a meaty hard-on, curved a little to one side. It wasn't as long as Uncle Don's, I guessed seven inches, and his hairy balls were plump and hung low. "What the fuck did I do to you Nick?" asked Dad. For the first time that night it looked like he meant it. "Joe, you been causing *discord* in the neighborhood. Agitating things. Then I gotta do cleanup on the drama. Pain in my ass. So now it'll be your pain in the ass, every time from here out, till it stops." He kicked off his jeans and underwear, and told Dad to get up and bend over. He said Dad could hold onto the sofa if he wanted, and he did, bent at the waist like an upside down L. Nick rested the head of his hard-on on my dad's throbbing hole and teased the tip in and out, real slow. "You think you're a man, Joe, but you're a kid," Nick said, teasing Dad's hole. "You got no responsibilities, nothing that makes a boy a man. Your folks are old, they cover your rent, your ma is still cooking your food and cleaning your house. Your faggoty kid here - sorry kid - he's more of a man than you. It's time to grow the fuck up." Nick leaned over, almost resting on my dad's back, and as he began a long slide into him, said low in his ear, "One more thing... I been waiting almost 20 years to bust into this ass". As the stiff crooked dick wound up inside him, my dad's mouth opened slowly with a sweet gasp. My own dick gushed more precum at the sight of it. Big Nick was the most skilled ass fucker of the group. His thrusts started slow, but built up to a steady, controlled ramming pace. He held tight on Dad's slim hips while his thick Greek prick reamed him, so slick with lube and spent cum I could hear it smacking with every thrust. He must have been hitting just the right spot, because Dad was kind of gone eyed, his head bobbing with each hit, and making animal grunting sounds. He reached with one hand down to the pouch of the jockstrap where his own dick was, which was dripping precum in a clear thread straight down to the floor. His hand was going into the jock pouch, but Nick told him no. "I know you want to nut real bad, but I don't want you distracted from what I'm doing back here. You leave it in that fucking jock till I'm through. You're my hole now." He gave a hard thrust that took Dad's breath, and Dad pulled his hand back from the strained jock. I think it was the first time I ever saw anyone tell my dad not to do something he wanted so bad. Nick kept fucking him, feeling him out and reading all the signs of pleasure in Dad's sounds and expressions. He got both big hands on just one of Dad's hips, so he could steer into his ass just where he wanted, and Dad's breath quavered. "Right there Joe? Is that where you like it?" asked Big Nick, hitting that spot in him again and again. Dad was biting the hairy flesh of his forearm. He nodded yes, and moaned "Uh-huh". Nick pumped in harder till Dad's legs were trembling and his mouth was hanging open. "Okay Joe," he said. "I ain't nutted in 17 days, for today. My wife's getting real pissed with me, but it's gonna be worth it. You want it in you?" Dad nodded his head. "I didn't hear you so good. Do you want it in you?" Dad groaned "Fuck yeah" louder, his head rolling with pleasure. Big Nick pulled my dad up from his waist so he was standing with Nick's dick straight up in him, so Nick could press against his back and rub his big rough hands all over his sides and abs and armpits and perfect tits. Even though dad was a stud, he was so slim next to Nick and the way those big hands ran over him made something about him seem like a girl. Nick turned Dad's head to the side so he could shove his tongue in his mouth, and Dad's tongue responded, lapping at Nick's and tasting him. It was the first time I ever saw two guys kiss in real life. Nick was real close then, because he real quick shoved Dad down again, wrapped his hands on Dad's shoulders to keep him in place and punched his cock in faster. He roared "Oh yeah," and started shuddering, nearly knocking Dad over, pumping his whole 17-day load into my dad's insides. It took a long time to get it all out, but when Big Nick was done he pulled out of Dad's oozing hole, still looking hard as a rock. Dad said "Fuck," and tried to sit on the sofa, but kind of slid to the floor instead. The jock pouch was wet and I swear I could see it throbbing from my dad's bound up dick in it. Nick leaned in close to my dad's face and gave him a playful slap on the cheek. "Be good now, Joe." He looked around at the other guys staring at him in awe, the furniture shoved around, the sweat, lube, beer and cum on the sofa, chair and floor. "What a fucking mess," he said. "Let's wrap this up." 7. JOEY "Hold on," I blurted, the first words out of my mouth in this whole event. Everyone turned to me. "Mister -- Mister Nick. You said every guy here was gonna do that." I nodded toward my dad. "But there's still one more." It took Big Nick a half second, but he got it. A grin spread across his face, and he laughed out loud. "You want a piece, kid? I primed the pump. You can finish him off." I got up on my feet and pulled open my jeans where my dick had been held tight the whole night, my underwear saturated with precum. Dad looked up in disbelief. But he didn't ask why. Maybe he figured it out, or maybe he didn't care anymore. "Fuck," he said, and got down on his hands and knees on the floor. I stripped out of my jeans and got behind him, running my hands over his ass, and spreading his slim haunches. After all that fucking, his hole was an easy target, red, slicked and pulating at my touch, the lube and cum there greasing my hand. I spread it on my boner and pushed it into him, in one smooth and easy stroke. It was like heaven sinking my boner into Dad, who had no fight left in him. It was so warm and soft and yielding. It was my first ass, the one I'd wanted for years, and after a night of being turned on enough to bust I knew I wouldn't have long. With my dick all the way up in him I reached down into Dad's sodden jock with my lubed hand to pull his cock out. Holding the actual heft of his oozing cock, curved, stiff and slick, was enough all on its own to make me cum. I stroked his meat up and down, doing my best to pump into him as deep as I could. I wasn't going to be a master fucker like Big Nick, I just wanted to get a few strokes in before I bust. "You could have been doing this with me the whole time," I said, "instead of pissing off all the guys." My thrusts were becoming more urgent, but I kept pumping his rigid cock. "I would have done anything," I huffed, trying to suppress the rising load in me, despite his asshole twitching and seeing the muscle in his back, "Fuck, suck, anything you want." I started to say Dad, but the word caught in my throat as my hard-on erupted, flooding his insides with cum. "Fuck, Daddy," I whispered, and we both groaned as his cock swelled, his hole convulsed on me, and his cum hosed out of him onto the floor below us, and in my hand. He dropped to the floor and I lay my weight on him, as we both slowly regained our breath and his ass released my softening dick. Big Nick crouched down next to us. "Joe, here's the new rules," he said. "You expand your horizons if you want to keep at your tom-catting. Go to any other neighborhood, I don't give a fuck which. But you put that big Sicilian dick in any girl in this neighborhood, even the whores, or related to any guy here, and you'll see tonight was just a warning." He stood up as we lay there at his feet. "But Joe, it looks like if you want some action you don't have to even leave home. "Now get out of here," Nick said, and pointed to the bathroom. I rolled off of Dad, who got up to stagger away. The jockstrap was still hanging on one leg, his sticky semi swaying and greasy handprints all over his body. I followed him to the bathroom, where Dad sat on the toilet for a long time. I sat on the floor close by. His guts were pushing out all the cum and gunk from inside him. He made all kinds of sounds I never heard an ass make. It sounds gross to say, but it was kind of hot, because all I could think was how his hole was still working from the fucking he took, and how good it felt to be in him like that. Every now and then we'd make eye contact, but mostly he was about his business. He took a long hot shower and I went out to the living room. The guys had taken their stuff and had put the furniture more or less where it belonged. There were still some stains and stuff, but I guess you don't have a good intervention without leaving things changed. 8. AFTERWARDS I can't say Dad became a priest in the few weeks since the intervention. He's still a flirt. That's just his nature. He started going further afield looking for girls, but I don't know how his shtick played in those places, because when he went tom-catting he came back home every night alone. Maybe his whole thing until then was just a big dick in a small pond situation. Things were weird between us, like we didn't know how to be with each other. I slept in his bed with him that night, and just kept at it. I like to hold onto his body at night and he hasn't said not to yet. I'm horny as ever for him, maybe more. Maybe if he goes without enough pussy for a few more weeks he'll be interested too. The black rubber buttplug was left in the bathroom, and so was the jockstrap, and it seems at least one of us will use them sooner or later. He and the guys have their usual get-togethers, play basketball, gripe about shit, and Dad seems only a little deferential, whenever I see them all together. They have history, and one rough night can't change that. It might sound crazy, but I think he had some kind of pride about the whole intervention, because they all got off on fucking him even though he's a guy, because he's just that hot. Knowing him like I do, that's what I think. Despite everything, I still love my dad, and I don't think I'll ever love any other guy as much. I look at the guys differently, though. Whenever I'd see Uncle Don all I could think of was that monster dick of his, and how I never knew that about him. I wonder if Aunt Lynn takes it all like her brother, my dad, did. You can't know what secrets guys are carrying around with them. Charlene Macchia's dad, Vince, I almost have a crush on. He's not built, but he's cute, and his being such a good dad is sexy in its own way. Maybe if my own dad had stayed married he'd have ended up more like Vince Macchia, and I wonder if that would be a better deal for me? I don't know, but I guess we all have our own shit we're born to. Fat Tony, that poor guy. He looked so thirsty for Dad that night, like he might have wanted him as much as me. He's the last guy I would ever think I had that much in common with, but I hope he got it out of his system, even if I didn't. I don't call him fat anymore, just Tony, and he's really not even that fat anyway. Then there's Big Nick. I go out of my way now to walk by his place. If I see he's out doing yard work or whatever I give him a wave, and then I feel worried I was too faggy or embarrassing to him. But he smiles and waves back. I know he's like 50, but I can't get out of my head how he knew just what to do buttfucking, and I can still hear the sound of his lubed up cock going in and out of Dad. I figure I had it wrong all along, because I can see now he's the real stud of the neighborhood. - END -