Date: Sat, 15 Sep 2007 14:34:46 -0700 (PDT) From: Cover yer Teeth Subject: The Hardwick Men, part 5 Believe it or not, the badass between the three of us ended up being Brad. Puberty was very kind to our baby brother. Not only did he develop a stockier frame (same narrow waist as Shane and I, but with broader shoulders and huge biceps, quads and calves), he also ended up with the biggest dick. It goes down the line: Shane is well above average with a fat seven-inch cock, mine is slightly narrower but longer at about seven and a half, then Brad won the prize with that big, fat eight-inch dong. Unfortunately for us, none of them quite compares to that monstrosity that swings between our father's legs. In addition to the way he more than caught up to us, developmentally, once Brad hit High School he suddenly went from being our tag-along little brother to being a muthafucking pimp! He was the only Freshman on the Junior Varsity wrestling team and he was the only one with two older brothers that practically defined the "in crowd" at our school. I tell you he fell into a tub of butter, that kid! After my morning "constitutional" one day, I headed down to grab some food just as my morning wood was beginning to subside. "What's for breakfast?" I chirped to no one in particular as I strutted into the kitchen. Dad and Shane were sitting at the kitchen table, both eating from bowls of cold cereal and flipping through some skin-mags. They were both bare-ass naked, but then so was I. Birthday suits were the everyday dress code in the Hardwick house. "Whatever the Hell you decide to cook for us, Sister Boy." Shane's jibe made Dad grin and he briefly looked up from his "reading" to show his amusement. "You know I only cook when you aren't around to eat it, Shane. Knowing you, you'd want me to start wiping your ass for you too. It's better to not set a precedent," I fired back as I grabbed a bowl for my cereal. "Hey, that would be nice! What is it you have against doing that, again?" Shane always had a come-back for anything. He prided himself on it and even told people he had a "Ph.D. in Ribbology." The three of us sat around the table finishing our cereal and talking shit. Nothing terribly important, as I recall. Mostly we discussed our plans for the day and there were a few off-color jokes thrown in for good measure. Just as I got to the bottom of the bowl, we heard the big screen come on in the living room. The volume was turned up high enough that we instantly knew what Brad was watching - porn. Shane's face lit up before he jumped out of his seat and headed in to check it out. I was right behind him. We found Brad naked and hard, laying back on the couch stroking his still-growing wang. Shane pounced on the back of the couch and brought his hands down, slapping Brad on his pecs. "What's the story, Mornin' Glory?" "'Morning Glory' is right!" he said, looking up at Shane over his shoulder. "I woke up with an aching hard-on that just won't go down. Seemed a shame to waste such a nice boner." I slapped Brad on the inside of his left thigh and said, "I hear that," as Shane and I plopped down on the couch on either side of him. Before long, the skin-flick got hot and all three of us were casually stroking our big, hard Hardwick cocks. Dad came in, just then, and threw the magazine he'd been perusing over breakfast carelessly onto the coffee table in front of us. "Don't let this turn into an all-day jerk-a-thon, boys. If I find out you skipped class for a circle-jerk, I'll beat your asses! What do you think locker rooms are for?" Dad smiled great big and then laid on the love seat that was perpendicular to the couch with his right leg up on the cushions so his angle gave him a good view of the screen. He wasn't even hard, but with his legs spread like that his gigantic schlong looked humongous. It snaked half-way down his thigh. Shane saw an opportunity and took it. "Brad's way past all that. How many Senior cocks did you have to sit on to make it onto the J.V. team, Fish?" "Or was it just the coaches'?" I threw in, following Shane's lead. We were laughing and cracking jokes, but still jerking off. Brad responded in a frank tone of voice, "All I had to do was let Coach K blow me." We knew he was joking, but he held a straight face longer than I expected he would. "You got off easy then," Shane said starting to get into the porno a bit more. "Lucky for you that you inherited a big Hardwick cock. It's better than a 'Get Out of Jail Free' card." Things got quiet as the three of us really began to get into beating- off. Once we were teenagers, it seemed like Dad was always walking up on us while we were masturbating. Just like when we caught him, he never freaked or acted like it was anything out of the ordinary. By the time we were in High School it was such a non-issue that we didn't even bother to stop jerking when Dad was around. Much like this time, it wasn't at all uncommon for Dad to just sit there bullshitting with us while we pounded away on our puds. What set this time apart, though, was that his tall fuck-stick found the hot porno that had captivated the three of us to be "uplifting" as well and our Old Man joined in on our circle-jerk for the very first time ever! I didn't even notice, at first. I'm not sure what made it so remarkable. After all the other things my two brothers and I had done together, plus all the things that we'd watched Dad do without him knowing, you would think that seeing our Father jacking-off to the same flick as us not more than six feet away shouldn't have been such a big deal. But it was. My cock responded to the sight and got so hard in my hand it felt like it might explode. I looked around at Shane and Brad some, at first, to see if they had noticed. They had. We exchanged furtive glances that suggested they were reacting to the situation in a similar way. We all tried to keep our eyes fixed on the big screen, but I for one couldn't resist the temptation to watch the spectacular tool that created us in action. I tried to be discrete as possible, but I was fairly transfixed on the sight of our Old Man tossing-off in front of us. I'm pretty sure I saw Shane and Brad staring a few times, too. It felt like I was going to nutt at any minute, but I wanted the moment to last. I eased off until my fingers were just lightly brushing up and down against my hard dick in the least sensitive spots. Watching Dad wank was like having a front-row seat for Masturbation 101. He really worked his cock with flare. His fist slid from the base all the way up his shaft in long, slow strokes, slightly pushing it away from his flat belly, and slipped slightly off the head with a twist. At first, his left hand was rubbing his chest, palming his left pectoral and occasionally squeezing his nipple between the crook where his thumb and forefinger meet. It was obvious when he began to really get worked up. He started thrusting his hips, humping into his stroking fist and grinding his ass into the cushion. His breathing became deep, matching the rhythm of his strokes as his eyes flashed with fire, fixed on the fucking porn stars in a steely gaze. When Dad felt his nutt getting closer he bent his right knee a little more, spreading his legs even wider so that he could move the hand that had been teasing his nipple down to clutch, kneed and tug on his weighty bull balls. The long, full-length strokes transitioned into more rapid, deliberate strokes. Soon his fist was flying up and down over the top half of his cock. Dad began to pant and huff. An almost inaudibly low rumble rolled out under his exhalations, here and there. We could tell Dad was getting caught up in the moment when his eyes slammed shut and he threw his head back into the cushions. His massive, well-defined chest swelled and fell with each breath. He startled me a little when his head suddenly sprang back upright, accompanied by a guttural, "Oh, yeah." His lips pursed tight and you could hear the air being forcefully expelled through his flared nostrils. Each muscle in his body was flexed causing every last inch of his flesh to corrugate in ripples. He was really abusing his nuts with one clenched fist while the other flogged his throbbing pole. Suddenly, Dad leaped to his feet and stood at the end of the coffee table in front of us. He had a strained expression on his face with his eyes tightly shut and his lips quivering at the mercy of his labored panting. His knees bent slightly and he hunched forward a bit, like a body builder in a showcase pose, except both hands were gripped firmly around his equipment desperately working to release a million of our potential brothers and sisters. He began a bone-chilling fanfare of growls and grunts that signaled his oncoming orgasm. His furious pounding slammed to an abrupt halt and his right fist clamped tightly around the tip of that trembling, enormous trouser snake as the most spectacular ejaculatory display I've ever borne witness to erupted with unbelievable force. "FUCK YEAH! OH, SHIT!!!" Spurt after spurt of hot, thick jizz shot high into the air and landed with loud splashes all down the length of our six foot long, glass-top coffee table. Dad's body shook and quivered with each volley. I had never seen so much cum blast out of one man's cock. After the last spurt sprang free, our Old Man heaved a heavy sigh, released the death-grip on his nuts and looked down at his handiwork. With his left hand behind him, cupping the top of his ass he wrapped the thumb and forefinger of his right hand around the base of his slowly waning erection and squeezed all the way up to the tip of that stupendous dong, milking the very last drops out the tip. When the final drop of the same baby batter that we come from fell onto the glass, Dad opened his eyes and looked over at us. My nutt had been aching to blow and all it took was the electric shock I got when Dad's eyes met mine to make me shoot all over my stomach. Brad was vigorously whacking away and he shot just after I did. Shane had busted his nutt in unison with Dad. "Whew! That was just the thing," Dad exclaimed as he gripped his now- flexible dick in the middle and gave it a playful flick. He interlaced his fingers and raised his arms high above his head to stretch, all the while his big, fat cock jutting far in front of him slightly bouncing up and down. As he turned to head upstairs and shower before work he glanced at us, his three dumbfounded and cum-covered sons, to say, "Don't be late for school, boys." After Dad left the room we just sat there stunned for a few long minutes. All three of us must have had nearly identical thoughts racing through our minds because we all leaned forward at the same time to get a better look at the huge fucking mess that Dad had left in front of us. "Holy Shit, man! That's a LOT of fucking spooge!" Shane said, finally breaking the silence. Brad's head was nodding in agreement. "That's no joke." The two of them got up off the couch and started getting ready for school. I sat there for a bit longer, unable to tear myself away from the sight. All these crazy compulsions came over me. I kept thinking things like, "I wonder what Dad's cum tastes like," and, "Wouldn't it be hot if I scooped all his jizz up, used it to lube my cock and rub another load out?" More practical thoughts answered those. I couldn't "experiment" with any of Dad's cum without wiping down the whole coffee table afterwards. Otherwise it would be obvious what I had done and there wasn't enough time left before school, anyway. Surely, Dad intended to clean up after himself when he got home from work. I decided that the thought of his load laying there on display all day was the hottest of all possible options. I burned the layout of each white, creamy blob into my brain and then ran upstairs to join Shane and Brad in getting ready. My being in school that day was completely fucking pointless. I spent nearly the whole eight hours boned-up, preoccupied with the memory of the very first circle-jerk that included all four Hardwick men. The image of our Dad rubbing out that huge load not four feet away from me replayed over and over in my mind. I kept thinking about the cum-splattered monument to Dad's manhood that would be sitting in the living room undefiled when Shane and I got home. It was off-season for football and basketball so Brad was the only one that had to stay after school for practice. When the final bell rang, I was out the door running and I got to Shane's car in record time. My aching chubby had been demanding more attention all day and I couldn't wait to get home to give in. Fortunately, Shane must have had his ass in gear, too. I only had to wait for him a few minutes. The drive home was oddly quiet and free from the usual spur-of-the-moment detours. When the two of us busted into the house, Shane said, "I don't know 'bout you, but for the last few hours I've been jonesing to finish that fuck- flick we started, this morning." "Doesn't surprise me. You have a habit of thinking with your prick. I'm right there with you, though. I guess your prick's been reading my prick's mind." Clothes came flying off before we even made it through the foyer. We hopped over the back of the couch and planted our naked asses in front of Dad's mess. The shallower drops had dried into little white rings, but some of the bigger globs were still wet. Shane started the porno where we had shut it off that morning. In no time we were both sporting raging hard-ons and jerking-off like mad. Ostensibly it was the porno that had us so hot and bothered. I can't speak for Shane, but I couldn't tell you what the Hell was on that tape. My eyes were fixed on the table and my mind was enthralled by an infinitely hotter display of graphic, raw sexuality. What the fuck was happening to me? By the age of sixteen I had been party to some pretty twisted shit in my young life. I had never felt anything quite like this before. The reality of what I was doing seemed so shameful. Dirty. Was I really getting off while . . . thinking about our Dad?!? The prospect seemed so indescribably perverted I was loathe to admit to myself that is exactly what I was doing. All this inner turmoil put a damper on my wank. My nutt was elusive; just out of reach. I suppose part of me wasn't so sure I wanted to be that guy. And really, what guy is that? Who thinks of their father in a sexual way, other than the toothless, banjo-picking hillbillies in Deliverance? We'd been sitting there beating off for nearly an hour, when suddenly I noticed that Shane wasn't really watching the movie either. He wasn't really watching anything. He was leaning way back into the cushions so that he was nearly laying flat and he had lifted his feet up to the edge of the coffee table. He had his knees bent and his legs spread wide open with his hot rod pointing straight up. He was moaning, quivering and obviously enjoying himself a whole lot. At first his right hand sliding up and down on his hard dick drew my focus. Then it occurred to me that his left hand was in an odd position. Shane's left arm lay right at his side and his left hand disappeared under his ass. His eyes were shut tightly as he writhed in ecstasy so I had no real hesitation to find out if what I suspected to be happening was actually happening. Slowly, I leaned forward for a better look. Sure enough, my big brother was laying next to me spanking his monkey like an all-star . . . while playing with his asshole! "That's different." With a delayed reaction, Shane momentarily turned his head and opened his eyes to look at me. "Huh?" "You take it up the butt, now?" "What? Oh . . . this? You've never fingered your ass a little when you jerk?" he said, more inquisitively than indignantly as though I was the odd one. "No. Can't say that I have." We both continued to stroke as I watched my brother rub his fingers around the rim of his puckered hole. "Does it feel good?" "Hell yeah, man!" He raised his left hand to his mouth and spat on his fingertips. "Haven't you heard Jeff beg for it and squeal like a kid in a candy store when we fuck him up the ass? There's lots of fun to be had down there." My hand went on autopilot, continuing to stroke my cock as I watched Shane slip the tip of his index finger up into his ass. His eyes closed and he moaned again, squirming around on the couch from the sensation. Before long, he was slowly sliding two whole fingers all the way in to the knuckle. His mouth hung agape and his breathing became erratic. He was rolling his hips around in a circle, thrusting up into his wanking hand while still fingering his tight hole. It seemed like he was having lots of fun. I figured, "What the Hell," and leaned back in a similar position. I sucked two fingers into my mouth and pretty soon I came to wonder why I ever doubt my big brother's suggestions when it comes to getting off. The new, exciting sensation of having my tight, virgin hole probed was just what was called for. It was intense! As Shane and I both wriggled around on the couch exploring practically every erogenous zone in reach, I could feel that once elusive nutt growing ever closer. Then we heard the front door shut. Both of us quickly yanked our fingers out and sat up with a start. Soon after, Dad rounded the corner into the room. "Jesus Christ! Isn't this exactly where I left you boys, this morning?" He sat his stuff down by the wall and made his way over to the love seat, where he had started the day with us. We must have had peculiar looks on our faces, because after he got a good look at us he said, "What? Don't let me stop you. Oh, shit. I forgot I left myself some housekeeping to take care of." Dad got up to go fetch a rag. We looked at each other for a moment and then Shane turned up the volume on the fuck-flick. I tried to keep my eyes on the screen, but the whole time I kept hoping that we would get a repeat of that morning's show. When Dad returned with the rag, we saw that he had also excused himself to shuck his clothes. On any other day, that would have just been the way of things, but on this day it quickened my pulse. We were just one erection away from getting an encore performance. In a bittersweet twist of fate, Dad had no plans to join in the fun that afternoon. However, what happened next couldn't have possibly worked out better. As the two of us got back to the task at hand, Dad came around the couch with the damp rag and began to sop up the remnants of that remarkable load we watched him rub out, before school. When he had got up all the spots within reach from the end of the coffee table he moved around to make his way down the side. Our side! My heart skipped a beat. I couldn't believe it. I'm sure it was an entirely innocent choice, but in light of everything that had been weighing on my thoughts that afternoon this couldn't be more serendipitous. Our father was bending over at the waist . . . two feet away from where his two oldest sons were beating-off their crazy-hard cocks! My head started swimming over this surreal happenstance. As a knee-jerk reaction I initially tried to avert my eyes, but it was losing battle. My blood coursed through my veins like molten lava as my hand abused my poor, aching cock. Wanting to hide it as I might, my eyes were glued to our Dad's wide-open ass crack. Glutes so firm and defined they were almost square- shaped perfectly framed that tight, pink pucker at the center. Dad's ass wasn't really hairy on his cheeks but all that dark, curley hair from his pendulous balls continued up over the spot under the base of his cock and lined both sides of the very middle of his crack. This feeling that had taken hold of me was spinning me out of control. My breaths grew shallow and hastened. My fist tugged on my dick so fast and hard, you would have thought I was trying to break it off. Those same bizarre thoughts raced through my mind, again. "Look at that ass! Right there on display. Wanna reach up and touch it. Grab it. Squeeze it. Smell it. Lick it. Finger it. FUCK IT!!!" Dad couldn't really see us from his position and I knew Shane wasn't looking at me. I was so carried away by this hedonistic fever that I surreptitiously slipped my fingers back down and into my quivering hole, jamming them up in there as far as they would go. That had done it. It was over for me. I could feel the earthshaking eruption boiling up from deep inside my loins. Every muscle in my body tensed. My back arched and my head sank back into the couch as spurt after spurt of hot cum hurtled out of my overtaxed dong. For my second load of the day, I couldn't believe how much I came. It went everywhere, too. That spastic convulsion of mine splashed cum all over my stomach and thighs. Some even hit my chin. As if someone had just pinched him, Dad stopped wiping off the table and stood straight up with a shot. I panted and wheezed and tried to regain my composure as I looked up to see him twist his torso around to look behind him. Dad raised his left arm up even with his shoulders and twisted his neck to crane around and look at something. Still rather shaken, I followed his gaze with my eyes until I saw it. A big blob of my spooge had landed just to the left of the top of Dad's ass crack! I sat up in shock and looked Dad in the face with wide eyes. "Careful where you aim that thing, Cade. That's what the marines call 'friendly fire,'" he said with a smirk that soon grew into a big grin. Not sure how to react, I mustered up a nervous chuckle. Just then, Shane started to grunt and whimper which drew my attention as well as Dad's to his big nutt. Dad was sort of half-heartedly watching Shane shoot while dancing around. The feeling of his son's hot, slimy cum on his ass made him antsy. After watching Shane pop off, I looked back at our Old Man. His body heat had already begun to liquefy my cum and it was trickling around his round cheek, down toward his puckered asshole. Finally, he used the same rag he had been wiping down the coffee table with to clean it off. There was an awkward moment there for a bit, but once Shane caught his breath he started laughing in a slightly sinister way. "He, he. Cade tagged you as his bitch, Dad!" Still wiping cum out of his ass crack, Dad started laughing too. "That's not the way it works." He threw the rag down on the end of the table he had yet to clean, turned to face us, gripped his impressive flaccid cock and wagged it at us. "The guy with the biggest dick is never the bitch." "That's bad news for you, Shane," I threw out there in an effort to cover the fact that my head was still spinning. Shane sprang up off the couch and started to head for the stairs. "It's not the size of the hammer that's important. What matters is the nail you hit it with!" I got up to follow Shane, being careful not to drip cum all over. "Yeah, yeah. Every shrimp-dicked guy I ever met has said some shit like that," Dad sort of yelled after him as he got back to cleaning up. I made my way up the stairs, somewhat mortified and thoroughly confused. As I neared the top, I looked back at Dad over the railing. He was still bent over the coffee table wiping it down with the rag in his left hand. It was his other hand that gave me pause. I didn't dare linger too long for fear of making an already uncomfortable situation worse, but I could see Dad's other hand placed behind him and I could almost swear it looked like he was rubbing his fingers up and down into the crack of his ass.