Date: Sat, 8 Aug 2015 23:49:29 +0100 From: Rob Armstrong Subject: Spikes Diaries - Arties Family SPIKE'S DIARIES: ARTIE'S FAMILY THIS STORY CONTAINS THEMES OF INCEST BETWEEN A GRANDFATHER, HIS SON AND GRANDSONS, WATERSPORTS AND DOMINATION. THESE CHARACTERS EXIST IN AN AIDS FREE, CONSEQUENCE FREE, FANTASY PARALLEL UNIVERSE AND ARE NOT TO BE EMULATED. PLEASE SUPPORT NIFTY WITH YOUR DONATIONS AND KEEP THIS INCREDIBLE RESOURCE GOING. NB: See 'Spike's Piercing Parlour' series, November 24th 2012 Top Secret: The following is featured in the research records of Pentagon operatives George 'Doc' Schultz and Carmine 'Spike' Russo, in connection with their ongoing studies of the evermore widespread effects of Formula 51.... Arthur (Artie) Haslett, 64 years old, Wallace, MI (by series of emails) Saturday August 2nd Brad, Tyler and me all piled into Brad's kingsize Thursday night and by yesterday morning the sheets were a disgrace. We fooled around til mid-afternoon. Brad and Tyler flip-fucked a coupla times and I took both their asses. God, my dick felt so good sinking into my grandson's moist shoot, slick with the cum of his own father. Ryan was due home that evening, so we had to scramble to get the place back to normal. We swung the windows wide to rid the house of mansex smells as we didn't want Ryan to suspect anything until it was too late for him. Yeah. Like I said. Ryan was gonna need different handling. My older grandson pulled up in his pickup around 7pm, just in time for dinner. College kids got an intstinct, I guess! Soon as his vehicle came to a standstill, all three of us came out to greet him. I'd told Brad and Tyler to act natural -and I didn't mean, act as if nothing had happened. That wouldn't have been exactly natural, now would it? My two quiet, distant guys had turned into a coupla frathouse rowdies, laughing and joking with each other, totally at ease. They'd also been speculating how I planned to turn Ryan and what dirty games they looked forward to playing with him after. It made my pervy heart sing. Ryan was sharp as a knife and spotted the new camaraderie between his dad and his kid bro. He looked mystefied but as pleased as I was. College football had done wonders for Ryan and he was a God. A little less hairy than his father - and his brother was becoming - and fairer in hair and complexion, taking afer his mother's side in coloring. But he had the Haslett jaw and rugged good looks. And in personality, he might as well have been me. Tyler bounded up to him like a puppy and nearly bowled him over. 'Whoa there, fella,' his brother laughed good-naturedly. Then his father surprised him with a warm, lingering hug - I'd guess Brad hasn't been all that demonstrative with his sons of late. But Brad was demonstrating now, in his package. So was Tyler. Ryan was looking uberhot in just a loose wifebeater and tight cut-offs, so I can't say I blamed them. The bulges in their shorts had gone unnoticed, however, except by me. Now that they had discovered mansex, Brad and Tyler were having a hard time keeping their hands off of Ryan, finding little excuses to touch him. I'd have to work pretty fast on this one. 'Hey, you two,' I growled, 'how about taking Ryan's bags up to his room and giving his old gramps a chance to catch up with him?' After all, I didn't want Ryan scared off before he'd even gotten in the door. Almost giggling, the pair complied. Ryan shook his head in bewilderment. 'What the hell's gotten into those two, Grampa? I don't ever remember them being so tight. And when was the last time Dad actually laughed?' I gave him a wink. 'Sometimes it takes a visit from your grampappy to put things right, son.' With that I tousled his burnt toffee hair and ushered him inside. Dinner was a bit of a minefield. Brad and Ty sat close to each other, thick as thieves. I delibrately ignored the furtive looks they kept shooting me, not wanting the three of us to be too obvious in front of Ryan. Instead I held up most of the dinner table conversation with him, while Brad and Ty exchanged lustful glances. Brad would reach out to stroke the back of Tyler's neck from time to time, which the boy clearly relished. Ryan was no fool, and though he didn't voice any suspicion as he helped me with the dishes, his mind was clearly working overtime, trying to figure out what had suddenly changed in this household. Under the impression that we would all be going hiking today, Ryan turned in early. We said goodnight to him, all peeling off to our own rooms, but of course by midnight Tyler was busily sucking off me and his dad in Brad's room. After we'd all shot our loads and exchanged mouthfulls of each other's piss, I explained to them the plan of action for the next day. Today. Ryan woke up this morning to warm, heavy summer rain. The air was hot and humid with the downpour. Too hot for any real clothing, other than a token covering for decency's sake. Yawning, he stretched and stepped into an old pair of speedos with saggy elastic - oddly, nothing else seemed to be close to hand - forcing his rigid morning glory into the pouch. He tumbled out to the family bathroom where he released the contents of his piss-hardon, allowing the monster to subside. He was surprised to see that it was after 10. Nobody had woken him. The house was silent and felt empty. Surely the rest of us hadn't gone off hiking in this weather? And without him. Ryan padded around upstairs in his swimsuit, softly knocking on all our doors and glancing inside when he heard no reply. Empty. Nobody there. Odder and odder. His growling stomach led him downstairs to the kitchen, where he took milk from the fridge and, with nobody around to disaprove, chugged it straight from the carton. Ryan wandered over to the window, carton in hand. He's always enjoyed the sight of the rain. He watched it fall on the trees surounding the house, and the foliage around the pool. He froze suddenly. The empty carton dropped from his nerveless fingers and dribbled white remnants onto the tile floor. He placed his hands on the table in front of him, slightly bent at the waist, in order to steady himself. ...as he stared disbelievingly at the sight of his father power fucking his brother on a sodden sun lounger out in the rain... They were both stark naked, rain slicking their caramel flesh. Brad was taking Tyler's ass from behind. Tyler arched backwards to meet his father in a hungry kiss, his ass thrusting back onto the cock that made him. Dad rammed him like a demon, one hand feeling up his six pack and tits, pinching and pulling on the boy's tender nipples, the other working his dick up and down... Ryan was transfixed. When he found his breath again, it came in sharp and short pants, in sync with the rhythm of the hearty dicking out there... He never saw me coming. I'd been stalking Ryan all through the house on his explorations, silent and stealthy as an Apache warrior. I was stark naked as I crept up on him in the kitchen, my dick hard and drooling. He stood motionless, frozen in shock by the sight outside... ...defenceless... He didn't even notice me until I slipped a hand down the back of those loose, slutty speedos... 'Like what you see, son?' I breathed huskily. Ryan looked at me, horrified... I instantly rammed two fingers all the way up his virgin fuck-hole! He arched his back, every muscle seizing in shock. With his head thrown back he attempted to suck in air but I'd completely winded him. His hips jerked forwards as a reflex, trying to escape my fingers, but there was nowhere for him to go - the edge of the table blocked him in front. I knew the element of surprise would only give me an instant. With my free hand I grabbed his far arm and twisted it up behind his back in a half-nelson. I held him upright, half-trapped, half supported, as his legs threatened to give way... Luckily for him, when he was deep asleep, his father and I had used a narrow syringe to fill his rectum with a very special mix of lube and our combined cum, prepping his hot hole for this very moment... ...so my digits squeezed around in his tight cavity more freely than would otherwise have been the case, making the initiation a lot easier on the poor kid... Even so, as I fingered him vigorously I couldn't believe how damn tight that hole was... Damn near snapped my fingers off! For his part, as the shock began to subside, my grandson began to gather his wits and he struggled to free himself from my grip. But I'm one brawny old coot, let me tell ya! And the position I had him in was one I'd learned during my brief stint in law-enforcement and was almost impossible to escape. At last he began to get his breath back. Between ragged gulps of air he managed to huff... 'Gr... Grandpa...what... you doin'..? ...OW! ....Fuh... fuh... fuckin' QUIT THAT... OUUUCH.... get OFFA me...' Of course, I did no such thing. Lewd old fuck that I am, I licked up the side of his handsome jaw with a wet tonue, leaving a trail of saliva, as I worked his cunt and murmurred sweet filth in his ear... 'You got a hot hole, boy. Scorching hot. And it's mine now. Mine and your daddy's... jus' like your sweet kid brother's out there...' 'Grandpa... STOP! You're HURTIN me!' '...yeah, jus' look at Tyler... look at that hot boy grooving on his daddy's dick... and you're gonna love it too...' 'Get outta me!' he yelled, turning more belligerent now. As I knew he would. Like I said. We're so damn similar we're practically the same person, and I remembered well how I'd reacted in the auto shop all those decades ago when I'd gotten gangraped by those hunky mehanics... My fingers were making headway now and my grandson's hole was starting to get a little more squishy... ...I probed him deeper... ...deeper... 'Argh! Arghhhh...' my grandson cried, 'Fuckin get OFFA ME, YOU GERIATRIC OLD FUCK...' He was getting angry now. Good... And of course I knew, the angrier he became, the more my fingering was getting to him. I played his joy-spot like a fiddle as I speeded up... 'Oooooh.... oooooooohhhh....' My weeping dick pushed inside the pouch of those loose speedos and nudged at his generous, though still-flacid dick. My head smeared juices all over the warm, thick tubesteak in there... Now I was probing him inside and out. My fingers up his ass and my rod kneading his pliant dickflesh. As I continued to lick his face and eat his ear. Never letting up on my grip of him. Forcing him to watch his brother being ravished out there in the rain by their father. And his breathing changed. Became hotter. Deeper. And his dick began to stir against mine. Fighting back. Crossing swords with mine, it began to leak fluid and in no time he was thrusting against me, dick against dick... 'The FUCK, Grandpa,' he moaned, 'Get the fuck outta my ass...' Oh yes, he still protested. But his complaints were subsiding now as his dick rose and his hole began to open and flex... ...his hot body melting against mine... A third finger up his ass and he doubled over the table. Panting like a puppy in a heatwave... ...His LOOOONG tongue hangin out... ...DROOOLING saliva over the table, like his dickhead was playin' over my head and drownin it in his fluids... ...BOY I was lookin forward to THAT wet tongue cleanin' up my dirty keyster... I let go of his arm - he wasn't goin ANYWHERE now - and grabbed a handful of his hair, yanking his head up as I REALLY went to town on friggin him... ...making him watch his brother's defilement... ...Ryan's ass was riding my hand now as I pumped my fingers into him and ruthlessly drilled that prostate up inside... 'Aaaaahhhh....' he wailed helplessly now, 'AAAAHHHH...' as he surrendered to the ecstasy... 'BRAAAD!' I summoned my son, 'get your son-fuckin dick in here. This boy's ready to breed!' Not a moment too soon. Brad and Tyler were ready to explode by now. Brad ruthlessly ripped his dick out of Tyler's hole and the boy had to limp after him as he dashed indoors... Brad paused as he entered the kitchen, drinking in the glorious sight of his older boy spreadeagled and pinned by my fingers like a rare moth on a board. Brad's dick twitched. I still held Ryan down for his father and worked the boy's cunt. Brad smiled, staring at his son's ass, and licked his lips lewdly. He reached with questing hands, squeezing and groping Ryan's ass and feeling up the muscles of his beautiful back. Brad was dripping wet from head to toe, much of it rain, a good deal of it sex-sweat. He leaned in, pressing his hot, damp flesh into his son's, grinding his iron-hard rod into one buttock. 'Noooo, Dad...' Ryan sobbed, '...don't...' But Brad merely muttered assurances to his son, telling him how well he was doing - just like when he was encouraging him as a junior athlete in high school. 'Go with it, son...' he whispered, '...wait till you see how good it feels...' And all the while he licked his son's neck and breathed hot and heavy into his ear. Ty had gotten in on the action and scooted in beneath the kitchen table. Ryan cooed when he felt his kid brother's tongue lapping at his balls, and moaned openly when he felt the hot mouth engulf his rock-hard tool... That was my cue. I removed my fingers, and Brad took his boy's cherry, relentlessly driving his dick all the way up his well-prepped channel till his balls slapped against Ryan's. Something snapped in Ryan's brain then, and he began a long, rising howl that was somewhere between a wolf and a banshee. I don' know if it was regret or arousal, or maybe a little of both, but it was totally primal and it raised every hair on my body... Brad seemed to get it. He an his son were joined now, and the father bayed in unison, he and Ryan's cries blending and melding as they mated... ...and then the ululation broke into the huffing raw grunts of two men rutting... 'Oh Dad...' Ryan panted, '...ohhhh.... ohhh Daaaad...' I'd taken up position round the front now, holding Ryan's arms. His eyes were hooded with pleasure. They flicked briefly at me, and then flicked away. Acknowledging me as the Alpha. It was his father's raw dick turning him out, but on an instinctive level he knew it was my doing. That it was all by my design. That I, his grandfather, was the pack-leader. I cupped Ryan's chin and made him look at me. Our yes met. I spat in his face and then licked it off slowly, driving my tongue into his drooling mouth. Ryan returned tongues hungrily. Then his father's sought entry. The three of us battled with our tongues and that was it. Ryan and Brad were driven over the line... I heard Tyler gulping frantically beneath the table, and Brad snarled as he unloaded into Ryan's hole. As I looked into my grandson's lust-drunken eyes, his tongue lolling out, I knew that none of my boys was ever going to feel alone again... Well, Doc. Well, Spike. I guess I have to smile now, as I write this to you, cos I can hear the three of them in the next room, all cosying up to each other, discussing the wilderness resort I've booked the us all into for two weeks. As you might expect, the place is out in the middle of nowhere. Brad and his sons are picturing fishing, white-water rafting and rock climbing. And yet my boys have quite the surprise when we all get there. Probably because I haven't told them it's a boots-only, SM master and slave fuck-park... I see all kinds of new experiences awaiting them, and white-water rafting isn't the watersport I picture in their near future. Yessir. I can't wait to see my three beautiful muscle studs in slave collars and the slutty assless rubber shorts I've bought for them... Yeah, little do they know, but my guys are going to be preeetty damn popular and make aaaall kinds of new friends... Hehehe...