THIS IS A STORY OF FICTION. THE AUTHOR DOES NOT CONDONE INCEST OR CHILD ABUSE IN ANY WAY. THIS IS MERELY AN OUTLET AND NOT MEANT TO REPRESENT THE AUTHOR'S THOUGHTS OR OPINIONS.
OK I got that out of the way. Now men – if this story got you off and made you cum, please write to me! KentTheWriter@hushmail.com, or KentTheWriter on Yahoo Messenger. I only write while interacting with fans, so I need guys who will help me by giving me feedback or just getting nasty with me while I write. So hit me up! I have more stories to share, but for now, grab your cock and enjoy part 2 of The Epidemic. And remember, don't cum until the end!
In the bathroom, Zeke's mind is racing. After the scene in the garage, he and Mason hadn't been able to do much but lay there and recover. As horrified as he was by what he had seen outside, and even more so by what had just transpired between himself and his youngest son, he knew he had to stay strong for his boy. Mason looked up to his father, and if Zeke showed fear, the boy would be even more frightened than he already was.
Zeke's mantra becomes "One thing at a time." There is so much going on – so much freaky shit this morning. For starters – what has happened to his body? Why was his son acting so insane – and sexual?? – this morning? How did his boy get to be strong enough to break through a solid door? Where were the firemen who should be putting out the house fire across the street? Had he really seen Arnie pounding the shit out of the neighborhood bully? Where was his wife? Were his other two sons safe?
It was all to much, so Zeke decided to focus on what was closest at hand. And since he was still hugging Mason to his beefed up, hairy chest, he decided that this little guy was the most important thing in the world right now. And that men putting on a strong face and getting to business.
He decided it was best to ignore the fact that he had just shot the biggest load of his life into his son's mouth. He also decided to forget about the fact that as he lay there exhausted from his earth-shattering orgasm, his tiny little son had gone around the room and licked sploodge off every surface – even the floor.
What he did focus on was the fact that Mason had been banging himself against doors and floors all morning, and was a little worse for wear. The boy had a big bruise on his shoulder, and more than one splinter from his break through the door.
So without a word, Zeke scooped up his little boy and brought him into the bathroom. Sitting on the toilet, he pulled Mason up on to his lap and soothed the boy, who was being a brave little soldier, as he pulled out all of the splinters. To do this, he had to gently take of Mason's little PJs, which was no big deal. They had been naked together before. And he didn't want to make the incident in the garage any more uncomfortable, so he took off his shredded bathrobe as well. Usually during bath time, when Christine was too fucking lazy to give Mason a bath, they both got naked, to avoid getting their clothes wet.
Now that all the splinters are out, Zeke ran warm water and put his tiny little son into the bath tub. Using a loofah he soaps up the kids back, chest and arms, making sure to get under his hairless armpits. He does the boy's arms, legs and feet. Then he holds out the loofah do Mason.
"Ok, do your other parts."
"Daddy – will you do them? Like you used to?"
Wow, it had been a long time since Mason had asked Zeke to wash his whole body. In fact, the last time he gave Mason a bath he had thought it would be their last. But I guess Mason was still scared from this morning, because he was asking the question like he was a toddler again. And when he asked in that pleading, quiet voice, Zeke couldn't say no. So he squeezes some more soap onto the loofah and then plunges his big hand under the water.
He feels around to Mason's dick and balls and soaps them up, making sure to get them nice and clean. Mason didn't do the best job of washing his own package, so it is probably a good thing Zeke has the opportunity to do it. He doesn't let his hands linger too long though – he doesn't want Mason to get even more confused sexually.
He leans his little son forward to clean the boy's bottom. When he moves down in between the boy's cheeks, he feels something odd. It feels as though something is beating down there – like a heart. He let's go of the loofah, letting it float to the top, and reaches down with his hand – this isn't molestation, he thinks, he needs to make sure his son is ok.
At least that's his rationalization. But placing his thick index finger on his boy's smooth hole, he can't deny it. The boy's butthole is pulsating. And it's a very familiar rhythm.
Zeke pulls his out of the water in shock. Oh my god, he just felt his cock jump. His own cock – his straight, father cock – just jumped while his finger was on his boy's butt hole.
"Are you OK, Daddy?" Mason asks. He is shocked at how quickly daddy's hand had disappeared form his asshole.
"Yeah son, I'm fine – just hot water. Uh – and daddy needs some time to think. Can you finish washing yourself up like a big boy? Then go to your room and wait for me."
"Ok, Daddy. But Daddy?"
"Do you still love me?"
This almost makes Zeke cry. He steps into the tub to pick up Mason, and gives him a big hug.
"Of course I still love you, Mason. You're my little guy and I'll always love you. I'll always keep you save, and I'll never hurt – SHIT!"
Just as he is about to tell his son that he'll never hurt him, he drops the boy. But he didn't mean to drop the kid – the shock of feeling his cock jump again startled him. The boy lands in the tub with a painful-sounding thud.
Zeke steps out of the tub. Fuck this has to stop – his cock is growing too quickly. He bolts out of the room, apologizing as he goes, and returns to his bedroom to do some thinking.
He immediately feels calmer once he closes his door. He knows Mason needs him – but if he doesn't get some time alone to sort out what's going on, they'll both be in big trouble. Mason will have to suffer for now while daddy thinks.
Obviously, the police and the fire department are going to be no help. Once he had seen the fire (and calmed down from shooting bullets of cum into his little son's gullet) Zeke had tried to call 9-1-1 to see why the fire department hadn't come and all he got was a busy signal. Thankfully the phone and the electricity are working. But oddly enough – the Internet and all TV stations seem to be down. How is it possible that some facilities work, but not others? It almost felt like information is intentionally being held from the public. Why were no news casts coming out with information about what is going on? Is this only happening in his neighborhood?
That is a question Zeke is very curious in, and one that instantly fills him with dread. What if it isn't limited to his neighborhood? What if it is happening all over the place?
"My sons," he says out loud. "My god, my sons."
Where are his other two sons? Good lord, he's been so preoccupied with little Mason and that boy'sÉproblemÉ that he's totally forgotten about Cliff and Hunter.
Clifford was his middle son. Zeke shutters when he thinks about Cliff out on his own. The kid is pretty nerdy. He's never really grown big like his father, in fact he's as skinny as his little brother. But he doesn't have quite the same pizzazz that his tow other brothers have. He's not charming, and though he's cute physically, he won't spout out some adorable question like Mason will. He's more bookish and quiet, shy around strangers.
Clifford had never really had friends. Which is why it was so nice when, last week, a boy from his class – Jeremy – had invited Cliff over to his house for a sleepover. Which was supposed to happen last night. Which meant that his precious middle son was only about three miles away.
But where is Hunter? Hunter is his older son, 17. And Hunter had been out on a date last night, as far as Zeke knows. Ever since Christine had moved out, Zeke had been trying to go easy on the rules. He wanted to seem like the cool dad, compared to their ice queen bitch mother. So he had let Hunter take the car- fuck – the car. There is no car. He forgot – didn't even notice that the garage was empty. The car was god knows where, and his eldest son is probably with it.
Well, he can't worry about that now. He had to focus on what he can do – and that's help Cliff. He knows how to get to Jeremy's house – he had to drop Cliff off there last night before Hunter took off with the car. He can get there on foot – it would probably only take about a half hour.
But he couldn't go now – not when things were so chaotic outside. His house was on fire and last time he looked out his window he had seen a couple boys running down the street, buck naked, raving mad and drooling. There were fires elsewhere, too, he could see them billowing in the distance.
No, he would wait until night. Then he would go. And no way is he going to take Mason out in that mess. But is it safe to leave the boy here? He can't imagine leaving Mason behind, but he would slow down the operation. No, he'd have to stay here. He'd only be gone an hour tops, and he'd lock all the doors.
It's time to get dressed. Even though his cock is rock hard once again, he has to do his best to ignore it. He goes to his closet and picks out his work uniform. It was a gray zip up like mechanics wear. His had a Sequoia Park Ranger badge on the arm and chest. It looks good on him, and does nothing to hide his bulging muscles – and lord his cock is pretty clearly outlined. You can see the head throbbing in the khaki material.
Then he sets off into he house, heading back out to the garage. He grabs his tool set and hammer, pounding over the windows. No one is gonna break in while he's gone. No one is gonna hurt his son.
By the time he's done, it's halfway to evening, and he realizes he's starving. And Mason! Mason must be staving too, they haven't eaten anything all day. Well – except – Mason had chowed down on some cum. But Zeke was trying not to think of that.
He had been ignoring Mason all day, telling the kid to entertiain himself while daddy got to work. Around halfway through the day, Mason had gone crazy again. Zeke was putting windows up in the living room when Mason came bounding down the stairs, still naked after his bath. And once again, he was crying out – moaning for cum.
But Zeke was prepared this time – he wasn't totally caught off guard. He was still horrified, of course, to feel his young son's tiny hands clawing at the bulge in his uniform. The kid had almost ripped the fabric open before his daddy got him in a bear hug and carried the boy kicking and screaming upstairs.
"I'm sorry, Mason, but it's for your own good!"
He kicked open the door to his own bedroom and threw Mason in there, then slammed the door shut. He still feels kinda bad about throwing the kid in there – it wasn't a soft landing, but the little guy was making such a fuss it was hard to even get him in. And as soon as the door was shut – THUD THUD THUD. The bedroom door is much sturdier than the garage door was. But just to be safe, he took a small table in the upstairs hallway and propped it against the door.
"Let's see the cum whore try to break through there."
OH MY GOD! Did I just refer to my own son as a cum whore? What has gotten into me??? I would never say that in front of him – let alone to him. I have to clear my head!
Zeke had put on music so he could continue to block up the house without hearing his son slam himself against the door. He felt bad – but what was he supposed to do? Eventually the thumping had stopped, and Zeke was pretty sure the little guy had tuckered him out.
Still, he felt guilty not checking on the kid. Mason must be terrified – even if he is acting so strangely. But the thought of his son attacking him sexually again was even worse, so Zeke didn't take any risks. But the boy had to eat, and so did he.
Zeke went into the kitchen and poured two bowls of cereal. It wasn't much, but he was planning on going food shopping once he got Mason out of the house. Now it seemed like that wasn't going to happen. He poured a little milk onto the bowls of cereal, grabbed two spoons and headed upstairs.
He knocks on the door.
"Mason, son? Can daddy cum in? Will you be good?"
The only response is a slight moan. It sounds like how Mason is when he has the flu – which the poor little guy had twice last year.
When he opens the door, the sight he sees is so shocking he almost drops both bowls of cereal.
On his bed, his little son is curled up in the fetal position, sucking his thumb. His face is red from crying, his cheeks still wet. But what's truly shocking his how small the boy is – he looks like he's lost 10 pounds. And Mason was skinny to start with! How is this possible? He's been locked in here for only a few hours, and he looks like he's been starved for a week.
Zeke once again rushes to his son, who lifts his head weekly to see his father. His eyes brighten a bit at the sight of dad, and his baby blues glance down at the bulge in his father's uniform. Zeke can feel his son's eyes on it, hot like lasers, and it's making him throb so much he feels like he might break the zipper.
"Mason, baby, you need to eat!" Zeke says as he sets the bowls down on the bed side table. He rolls his son over and see's the boy's mouth is open. Mason weakly tries to reach for his father's bulge. but clearly doesn't have the strength.
Zeke ignores this and gets a spoonful of the cereal. He lowers it into his son's mouth. Immediately Mason is awake – he sits up coughing and sputtering. Gagging, he spits out the cereal onto the bed. Fruit loops and milk everywhere.
"CumÉ" the child whispers.
Zeke tries twice more, but it's no use. The boy can't keep the cereal down, and the bowl is practically empty. And each time Mason says "Cum," Zeke's hard on grows bigger, and harder to ignore. Finally, he can't take it anymore.
Rising to his feet, all of the sudden angry, he yells at the boy.
"FINE. YOU WANT DADDY'S CUM, YOU GET DADDY'S CUM."
Zeke stood and unzipped his uniform down so his cock and balls could flop out. There were just as big as he remembered from that morning – maybe even bigger, and definitely throbbing faster. It feels so good to just have it out in the air, and when he puts both his hands on it, he lets out a moan of pleasure. God he needs this so bad.
He steps back, aiming his cock at the bowl on the floor. He steps back more – realizing as he strokes, that this is going to be a messy one.
Finally it comes. And it comes like a bullet. Zeke is afraid the porcelain bowl is going to shatter, but instead it just moves a few inches until it's against the wall. Zeke fortunately has always had good aim, and he manages to get every single drop right into the bowl. He almost fills it to the rim! Good lord, how could one man's balls hold SO MUCH juicy, thick and white sperm? After he just shot the load of al lifetime?
While this happens, Mason is able to lift his trembling head, watching the orgasm with his big blue eyes. His dad tries not to notice that his own son is licking his lips.
Zeke's anger is pretty much gone by the time his cum is finished, but he still knows what he needs to do. The boy isn't going to eat, unless this happens. Zeke doesn't know how he knows this, he just does.
The father goes around the room and picks up a few of the fruit loops that had been spit out by his son. Then he floats them in the bowl of sperm, hoping it will help get at least SOME sort of food into his kid's stomach.
Still unzipped with his cock still throbbing, Zeke makes his way over to the bed with the bowl of cum. Careful not to spill any of it, since he doesn't want to see his littlest son licking cum up off yet another floor, he sits down and takes his son's little weak head into his lab. He smooth's the boys hair back – it's matted to his forehead with sweat.
"ShhÉshÉ here ya go. I'm sorry I withheld it from you, Mason. It's just so scary for daddy. Open up."
The boy easily open up and Zeke scoops up a big spoonful of his still-warm scum. It has a big green fruit loop floating into the middle of it. He sighs, swallows deep and then dumps the spoon into his son's open mouth.
It's no surprise the little cum fiend is thrilled. He sucks it down his throat as fast as he can, and opens again like a baby bird wanting a worm. And that's how Zeke and Mason spend the next few minutes. Spoon full after spoon full of scum. Mason slowly regains his strength with every spoon full of his fathers pearly white jizz in his tiny belly. By the end of it, he's on all fours, happily licking at the bowl. He's even chatty.
"Thanks Daddy, I was feeling so sick! I really needed this stuff. What do you call it anyway?"
"Son, I don't know if we should be talking about this."
"But daddy, I just wanna know what it's called? Since I need, it, it's only fair that I know what it's called, right daddy? So what is it? Huh? Huh?"
"It has a lot of names, honey. But for now, why don't we just call it was it is – cum. But if we're ever in public – don't use that weird. Just say milk instead, OK? Can you do that for daddy?"
"Yes daddy. I love cum. Cum Cum Cum!"
"Don't say that!" Zeke says, but he feels a smile on his face. Gosh darn it, the kid is just too cute, even when he's talking about his father's ball juice.
The little guy is all tuckered out after his big meal, so Zeke quickly spoons down some of his soggy fruit loops. Then he shuts out the light, letting his little special boy fall asleep in his big bed.
It's time to set out.
As he worked through the day, Zeke had developed a plan, and now it is time to carry it out.
Zeke heads out the front door in his park ranger uniform. He has his keys around his wrist, and for protection, a small hand gun tucked into the waist band of his underwear – tight white briefs underneath his khaki zip up. He had been semi-hard for a while since he came, but now the excitement of the night was making him throb all over again.
Cautiously, Zeke steps out into the street. It seems pretty calm and quiet – the house across the street is now just smoldering. There are still quite a few car alarms going off, but not as many as had been all day.
He walks over toward the Jacobson's smoking house, crossing their dry lawn. He calls out in a loud whisper "Clark? Clark are you there?"
There is no response at first, but then he hears a rustling in the bushes to the side of the house.
"Uh, just a minute! Just one sec! Is that enough, Nate? Ok, hold on."
There is a bit more rustling, and then Clark Jacobson and his son, 14-year-old Nate, emerge from the bushes. Buck naked. Zeke tries not to be shocked, but it's still so bizarre – two naked people – his neighbors. A 14-year-old boy and his father, without a stitch of clothing, outside. What a strange world.
"Zeke, what's going on?" Clark says in his deep voice. Clark is much taller than Zeke, but not as bulky, even though it's clear he's gone through a transformation. His son is tall for his age too, but still shorter than Zeke. Both father and son have bright red hair that they both wear cropped – they really resemble each other. Now that they seem to have washed off the soot, their pale white, Irish skin glistens in the moonlight.
"I think the boys – " Zeke catches the look of Nat Jacobson and cuts himself off. "Uh, Clark, can we talk in private."
"Sure, sure. Wait here, Nate, and don't move. Daddy will be right back."
The two dads move around to the other side of the front lawn.
"Look, Clark, I don't know what's going on, and it's scary as fuck, but something's happened to – I think to our sons."
"Yeah," Clark says. "This morning I was cooking breakfast and Nate – well he attacked me. Distracted me so much that I couldn't stop the fire from starting on the stove. I only just got him out on the lawn before we both burned to death. And lord knows where my wife Tracy is. I just hope to God she wasn't in the house. But the fire department won't come."
"Something weird is going on. I don't know about your wife Tracy, but my two sons are missing. They're out there somewhere, and I need to go find them."
Clark looked shocked. But Zeke also noticed that his cock, which was easily a foot long, throbbed when Zeke said the word "sons."
"I need your help," Zeke continues. "I have Mason back at the house, asleep. I need you to watch over him. I can't take him with me – it's too dangerous. But if anything happens to me – "
"Zeke, nothing's gonna happen. It's not that dangerous – is it?" Clark was always a nice man and a good neighbor, but he was not a natural born leader like Zeke. The two men were friends, but Zeke always felt like Clark was something of a sidekick to him.
"Listen, Clark. If anything does happen, I need you to watch over Mason. I'll be back before sunrise, alright?"
"Can – can we go in your house Mr. Z?" That was Nate, who had snuck around. The boy was usually a rambunctious little firehead, but he looked much more timid – and hungry – now.
"Of course, you can, Nate. Your dad and you can stay at my house as long as you need – just promise me you'll help your pop babysit?"
Actually, Nate had babysat Mason before. But the boy didn't look like a brave enough babysitter right now, cowering, and staring pretty blatantly at his father's crotch – with his rock hard throbbing foot long cock and red pubic bush.
"I've got to get going. Promise me you'll make sure he's OK?"
"I promise. But Zeke? Does he go after – ya know – these too?"
Surprisingly, Clark Jacobson grabs his own big nuts, hanging in their sack like pool balls, and shakes them.
"You mean – uh – sorry Nate. You mean cum?"
"No," Clark says, kind of confused. "Your balls."
"OhÉno why does- ?" Zeke looks to Nate, who is staring at his dad's balls in his dad's hand, and licking his lips. It was the only answer he needed.
"No, Clark, no. He doesn't go after my balls. He goes after what's inside them. Cum. Yes, it seems my little Mason is an elementary school cum addict. And your son is a teenaged ball sucker."
All three of the males standing on the lawn were caught off guard by what Zeke said. It was so out of character – so filthy – Zeke himself can't believes those words came out of his own mouth. And yet- they did.
Clark seemed willing to let it go. He grabs Nate's hand and leads him across the street. Once they are in the house, Zeke heads off down the street in the direction of Jeremy's house.
It is eerily quiet as Zeke sets out, and hot as fuck. Jesus – when did it get so hot outside? It's not long before he can feel himself sweat, and it's humid as fuck, like he's in a steam room. I guess summer came early.
Most of the car alarms have stopped now, and as Zeke makes his way through the maze of suburbia, he is acutely aware of every sound. He makes progress for about 10 minutes, and then as he rounds a corner on Magnolia street, something changes.
As he turns the corner, his cock leaps to attention. It has been rock hard since he set out, probably due to excitement, but not like this. He looks down at his crotch. He can see the individual veins of his cock as the monster presses against his uniform.
Boys are near, he thinks to himself. He doesn't want to admit it, but the massive, throbbing weapon between his legs is pretty clearly acting like a divining rod. Boys in the hood, cock gets hard. Boys far away, cock is only semi-hard.
He stops, listening, and sure enough he hears it. Footsteps. And not big foot steps, little ones. Pitter patter pitter patter. It sounds like more than one boy. Yes, now that it's closer, it's clearly three or four boys.
"Shit," Zeke says, trying to pinpoint where their coming from. But it's too late – a hedge right in front of him explodes, and out pops a boy, covered in twigs and leaves. It's not a boy Zeke recognizes – he's not in his neighborhood anymore. It's a small kid – really small, and really young. His brown hair looks dirty, and he's completely naked. He looks hungry.
"FUCK MY ASS!" the boy roars, lunging for Zeke.
Zeke begins backing away from the boy only to feels something behind him – small hands on his ass. Two tiny hands on his big, firm ass cheeks, pulling them apart – and then something else pressing into his cheeks. He doesn't have to guess what part of the body it is digging into his cheeks – the moaning tells him enough.
Zeke takes off running without turning around. He hears the boys moaning and grunting to each other – almost like a language. Soon there are four boys trailing him as he cuts through lawns and backyards.
At one point, Zeke loses two of the boys when he jumps into a pool behind a house on Sycamore Terrace. Zeke has always been a fast swimmer, and he swam the length of the pool and is over the fence before two of the boys even get halfway. But two boys stay on his trail, and even hop the fence. His cock is throbbing the entire time, making it difficult to run – the girth is quite the weight, not to mention that his balls are churning so quickly.
He looks back over his shoulder – one of the boys is the little guy with twigs in his hair. The other is older, maybe 15 or 16, and very athletic for his age. The boy is tall and slender, also completely naked, and has a nice six pack and pecs for his age. He's moving fast – he's so light he might even have speed on Zeke.
Zeke runs smack into a low stone fence, banging his shins and tripping into the yard behind it. He's stunned for a moment – he really hurt his shins. That's all it takes for the two boys to be on him.
The teenage boy leaps from off the low stone wall and lands squarely on top of Zeke, and before Zeke can do anything the boy has grabbed both of his hands and pinned them behind him on the wet grass.
Zeke struggles but the boy is surprisingly strong. Supernaturally strong. Zeke struggles, but can do nothing as the teenager buries his handsome face into Zeke's armpits and beings to gnaw at the fabric covering them. It's not long before he has the right armpit of Zeke's uniform ripped open, and is now licking furiously at the sweaty, hairy man armpit underneath.
Meanwhile, the little guy is using this situation to his advantage. He also tripped over the stone wall, but it didn't slow him down, even though it looked like it hurt. He crawls toward Zeke, who is still pinned to the ground. The little boys hands are at the zipper by Zeke's neck in no time, and the boy rips so forcefully that the zipper rips right off. Now Zeke's underneath, and it's not long before his underwear is off too. He feels his gun slip down underneath his ass.
Zeke's eyes go wide. The extremely tiny little boy is now standing up, his back to Zeke. Zeke's cock has grown to its full, terrifying size, and is now throbbing visibly. The boy's tiny, dirty hands pull apart his small, round and love-toned ass cheeks, revealing an unbelievably pink and smooth and tiny hole underneath. Then the boy begins to back up towards Zeke's hard on, his little butt hole throbbing in time with the cock its approaching.
My god, I'll kill him! There's no way I can fit in there!
The boy backs up slowly, until Zeke can feel the pucker of his ass right on the head of his cock. Zeke prepares to fuck his first child, closing his eyes tightly shut and hoping the boy doesn't scream too much, but all of the sudden, the boy is gone.
Zeke opens his eyes. Standing above him is an enormous man who has the little boy wiggling and whining in his harms. The man throws the boy a little too roughly, and then seizes the teenager by the back of the neck and pulls him off Zeke with one arm. Then he holds out his hand to Zeke to help him.
"Follow me! No time to explain!" the man says. Zeke sees that the man is almost completely naked, except for a black belt around his waist that seems to have some tools hanging from it. Like Zeke, the man has a massive, unbelievably large, throbbing cock. Their two cocks are throbbing in unison.
Zeke is on his feet, and can see the two boys are both crawling toward them. The stranger takes off running through the yard back toward the street. Zeke follows him, and sees that the are approaching a police wagon. The kind that officers use at protests when they are expecting to make large numbers of arrests.
"Get in the passenger side!" the man yells, and Zeke runs around and does as he's told. Zeke is a natural born leader, but he knows when to take orders. Zeke locks himself in, and expects the man to get in on the other side, but he doesn't.
Zeke takes a look in the rearview mirror, and sees something quite amazing. The man has opened the back of the police wagon, and is standing in a position that looks like he's preparing for a wrestling match. The teenage boy reaches him first, and the man dodges out of the way at the last moment, sending the teenage boy flying into the back of the police vehicle. Then he lunges for the little kid, and throws him in the back too, and slams the door shut. The boys immediately begin banging on the back of the doors, but they are locked shot.
In a flash, the man is in the driver's seat of the police vehicle, and they're moving. Speeding. It's some fancy driving, but the streets are mostly vacant. And this man clearly has some skill. Zeke's a brave man – but this maniac behind the wheel appears to be fearless. He drives over curbs and down narrow alleys.
The two men don't speak, but Zeke has time to take in his new companion. Or captor? Zeke isn't sure he has made the wisest choice. The man next to him was enormous – not all bulk like Zeke, but more like a football player. He was hairy as a beast, but was clearly solid muscle underneath his thick frame.
Zeke couldn't help but notice the cock that was sticking up and precumming all over the steering wheel as the man drove. Hey – it helped with power steering. It's huge, veiny and throbbing – but that's where its similarities to Zeke's cock end. While Zeke's hardon stretches high and straight into the hair, this man's is thick and leans heavily to the left. It burst forwards from a short but thick clump of pubes at its base, and then stretches over his left elbow. And once again, Zeke notices that the cock is pulsing in time with his own.
"What's yer name?" The driver grumbles, keeping his eyes on the road.
"Zeke, I have to thank you for picking me up." Zeke attempts to break the ice – after all this is only the third adult Zeke's seen since things went haywire. But his friendliness doesn't seem to crack this man's hard and hairy exterior.
"Where are you driving?"
"Just tell me something – you ever touch one of your kids before?"
"What? No! Never"
The man behind the passenger seat turns to look at Zeke, taking his eyes from the road for far too long. He takes Zeke in from top to bottom, glaring, reading him. And then, Zeke can see, the man decides Zeke is telling the truth. Now the man's tenseness drops, and he seems to relax.
"I can tell you aren't lying," the man says. "Which is good. Cause I swear I'll kill any man who's ever touched his kid before. But something's going on. Something's changing, and you gotta adapt. You know what I mean?"
"UhÉyeah," Clearly this man was stressed and on the edge.
"I don't know what the fucks going on. But I got five kids in the back of my police truck, each one of Ôem naked and insane. The women are gone. The weather is fucking hot as hell. And I don't know what the fuck to do. I'm just driving."
Zeke suddenly feels an intense camaraderie for this man. He's got a cool head, but he's obviously at the end of his rope. And Zeke finds himself doing something he never would have done with another man before – not even his own father, (who is a prick as far as Zeke is concerned.) But he never would have done this with any grown man, especially not a naked stranger. Despite all this, Zeke sees his hand moving over, and coming to rest on the man's thick, tree-truck, hairy beast of a thigh.
The man flinches, and for a second, Zeke thinks he's going to punch him in the face. But then the man relaxes, and gives Zeke a weak smile.
"My name's Marco," he said. "What the fuck are you doing out
here on your own? No weapons or nothing?"
Zeke smiles and reaches into his park ranger uniform, which is torn and hanging wide open. He reaches into the waistband of his underwear and pulls out his gun. He see's Marco's cock bob when he does this.
"Well good man. I know you need protection. There's some sickos out here – and I'm not talking about the kids," Marco says, still speeding.
"I know what you mean – I don't know what's going on, but it seems that our world has changed forever."
"And some men seem to be fine with the changes," Marco growls. "Taking advantage of their own sons."
Their own sons. My sons! Shit!
"Cliff!" Zeke calls out suddenly.
"WHAT? WHERE?" Marco screams, pushing on the break and forcing the car to a halt.
"What the fuck, Zeke! We're miles from the cliffs!"
"No, I mean – my son, Cliff. I was out to rescue him. That's why I'm out here. Please – my son, I need to find him."
"Where is he?"
Marco has already pushed the pedal to the metal, and they're speeding again.
"He was sleeping over at a friend's house. Jeremy. Over by Zenia Court."
"Show me the way," Marco says.
Speeding through suburbia, Zeke is once again impressed by Marco's skill behind the wheel. Then all the pieces fall into place. The black utility belt around his waist. His amazing driving skills. A fucking POLICE CAR.
"You – uh – are you an officer?"
"Not in this world, I'm not. Ain't no officers anymore."
"But you were an officer? Left here at the stop sign."
"I was. And what were you? A janitor?" The man smirks at Zeke's ripped uniform. The way he's taking turns so quickly he can hear the boys in the back sloshing from side to side. It doesn't stop them from trying to get up, an from moaning and wailing in sexual frustration.
"A park ranger. But I guess you're right – now I'm just a dad trying to save his sons."
This time it is Marcos' turn to reach out and put his hand on Zeke's thigh. He gives Zeke a powerful squeeze.
"That's alright, we'll get him back. I got my own son back for chrissake."
"You did?" said Zeke, alarmed. "Where is he??"
"In the back with the rest of Ôem," the man says, nodding his head backward at the back of the vehicle. So one of those five boys in there, drooling, slobbering and tumbling around, was this man's son. This night couldn't get any more bizarre and terrifying.
Except that as Zeke is taking in this latest revelation, they are pulling into the driveway of Jeremy's house.
As soon as the police vehicle comes to a stop, Zeke is out bolting across the lawn toward the front door. Marco isn't far behind him. Zeke has met Jeremy's mother many times, but never his father. He doesn't know what to expect, but he's not afraid. His Father instincts are on overdrive, and Zeke has only one mission in mind – rescue Cliff.
He bursts through the front door, practically knocking it on its hinges. This house is in a nice part of town – much nicer then where Zeke lived. The house was big and fancy – but still chintzy like many houses in this suburb were. The lady of the house had a strange flair for decoration – everything looks breakable.
Zeke pauses in the entry way. To his left his a large staircase. In front of him, he sees a door that looks like it leads to a kitchen. Then he looks down and sees a hand coming out of the door, limp on the floor.
He runs down the hallway and pushes open the door. Sure enough, he's in a modern kitchen – all stainless steel and wood. Lying on the tiled blue floor at his feet is a man of Zeke's age, passed out and bleeding slightly from the head.
Marco bursts through the door and kneels down, feeling the man's pulse.
"He's alive. But – did one of the kids do this? Does Jeremy have an older brother?"
"No – he's an only child. I know that for sure."
Then they hear the noise from upstairs. A man's voice – deep and burly.
Marco and Zeke look at each other, both of their big, square faces stern. And then they're off running, Zeke leading the way up the stairs.
As they head up, the voice gets louder.
It's coming from a closed door at the end of the upstairs carpeted hallway. It clearly looks like the master bedroom – Zeke was familiar with this layout of home. The master bedroom was always at the end of the hall.
The two men go slowly down the hall – there's clearly at least one man in there, and both of these men are smart enough to know that if there are burglars or – other less savory criminals in the home, they don't wanna be out numbered.
The two big men slide down the hallway, each of them with a gun drawn. Their two hardons are so big and throbbing, it's almost painful. But mostly it's just blissful, making it more difficult to remain serious.
When they get to the doorway, one man on each side, they can hear what the voice is saying.
"YOU FILTHY CHILD SLUT! LOOK AT YOU WITH COCK HALFWAY TO YOUR STOMACH! YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE WATCHING MOVIES AND ENJOYING A SLEEPOVER WITH YOUR PAL BUT YOU"RE CHOOSING TO CHOKE ON COCK INSTEAD! WHAT WOULD YOUR PAPA SAY IF HE COULD SEE YOU NOW, SLUT??"
That was all Zeke could take. He kicks the door open with his big foot, and takes in the room. Before him he sees a large man, tall and slender and muscled, completely naked except for a black ski mask. Between his legs, kneeling on the floor, stretching to crane his neck upward high enough, was his own son Cliff.
Literally chocking on the man's enormous cock.
His own middle son, gagging, spitting and snorting because his throat and face are so filled with cock. Drooling all over himself – sitting in a puddle of his own drool in fact.
The boy's back is to Zeke, and Zeke suddenly sees two feet kick out on either side of Cliff's shoulders. Jeremy's feet. Shit! The little boy is lying on his back, his torso on the bed, the rest of him hanging off it. His face is squarely under the masked man's ass.
Worse than the sight of this is the sounds – at least for Zeke. He can only hear two things – the muffled sound of a child smothered under an adult asshole, the gagging, lurching, spitting and snorting sounds of his own middle child.
Zeke and Marco run, sprinting across the floor, and leap for the man on the bed. You would think two large, muscled, athletic men like Zeke and Marco could tackle a man on his own, but you'd be wrong. The man leapt on the bed, not unlike a ninja, bouncing on the mattress and flying through the air, landing perfectly through the open window, where he crouched for a moment on the sill.
The naked, masked ninja-man pointed first at Jeremy on the bed, who was gasping for air.
"Anything involving adult asshole," the man said. Then he shifted his pointed finger to Cliff, who was also gasping like a fish out of water on the floor.
"That one, oral combined with verbal abuse. You can thank me later – we'll meet again soon."
Then to Zeke and Marco's surprise, the man disappeared out the window.
The two men shared another look of disbelief, and then turned their attention to the little boys who were writhing, gasping and choking on the bed and floor. Zeke drops to his knees and scoops his son into his big arms, doing his best to ignore his throbbing cock. He couldn't believe he could notice something like this – but the way his cock is throbbing now is a completely different rhythm than the way it was this morning, when Mason attacked.
"D-dad," Cliff stuttered in his timid voice, looking up into his father's loving eyes. "You came to save me."
"I sure did son, it's ok now. Daddy's here. That man won't hurt you anymore."
Cliff let out a big cough and gasp for air. "Dad, he wasn't hurting me –"
"YES HE WAS!" Zeke says, suddenly angry. Cliff had a way of doing that – making Zeke angry by saying something innocent. It was just part of being the middle child.
"I'm sorry son, but what that man was doing to you was not right. Now come on, boy, we have to get out of here."
Zeke stands up, pulling Cliff up kind of roughly and dragging him to his feet. They head out the door, back down the stairs. Marco follows, carrying Jeremy who is apparently so out of breath from his time sucking ass that he can't walk on his own.
They head to the kitchen, looking down at the man who is still passed out on the floor.
"That's Jeremy's dad," Cliff says quietly, still clutching his father's big hand with boy hands as if he was a toddler again. "We can't leave him behind."
Zeke was proud of his son in that moment, and was almost able to forget that only a few seconds ago the boy had been gobbling cock down his throat as though it were the cure for the common slut.
"Let's put them in the car," Marco said, "And then come back for him."
The headed out into the front yard, and as soon as they stepped outside they could hear the boys in the back – all five of them- moaning and banging on the doors. It was going to be tricky to open the back door without letting all the boys out at once.
Marco opens the door, and the boys begin to leap out, lunging at their cocks. They're able to beat them back just long enough to throw the still-gasping Jeremy into the back, but they have to slap the door shut before they can put Cliff in the back as well. But Zeke is still happy about this – he doesn't want his own son in there with those boys who are in full-on boy slut mode.
"Unfortunately, there are only three seats in the front, and it's going to be tough to squeeze in as it is with us three big guy," Marco says.
"WellÉ jeezeÉ" Zeke looks nervously at his son, then down at his own crotch, which was still bulging with his insanely large erection." I uh, guess Cliff can sit on his old man's lap. We haven't done that since hew as a kid but we gotta get outta here before that man, whoever he was, comes back."
They headed back into the house to pick up Jeremy's dad, and together they carried him out to the car, with little naked Cliff following close behind. The slumped the big man into the middle seat, where he lay with his head back, while Marco got back behind the wheel. Finally Zeke squeezed in, barely able to fit, next to Jeremy's dad, and then hauled Cliff up onto his lap, failing miserably at his attempt to shield the boy from his pulsating penis.
The two heroes took off back in the direction of Zeke's house. But it wasn't long into the drive before things started to change. Cliff, who had been nuzzled up against his father's beast of a cock, began to change, right before their eyes. His head lolled around, and soon he began moaning, just like the boys in the back. But unfortunately, they are in a moving vehicle, and Zeke is so stuffed in he can't move his arms to stop the boy as he begins to wiggle, and then slips down onto the floor, in between his father's two legs.
The boy turns his big, brown eyes – the only brown eyes in Zeke's family – up at his father, giving him the puppy dog look. Then Cliff seems to unhinge his jaw like a snake.
"Oh god, NO! NO CLIFF! DO NOT DO THAT! DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT!"
But it's hopeless. Even as he's protesting, closing his eyes not to see the horror in front of him, Zeke feels the unmistakable feeling of a hot mouth on the head of his cock. The wet tongue gliding over his cock doesn't belong to Christy, his wife, or some bitch he met at a bar. It's his own flesh and blood – his own middle child who he made with his own sperm. And goddamn it if that mouth on his cock isn't more amazing than any fucking lady bitch mouth Zeke has felt.
"HURRY THE FUCK UP MARCO! I CAN'T GET HIM OFF ME!"
Zeke peeks down at with one eye at his son, just in time to catch the boy give out a big cough, causing spit to pour out the side's of his mouth and down Zeke's foot-long weapon of mass destruction.
Marco, watching this incestuous scene out of the corner of his eye, turns back on his police driving skills. He's zooming through suburbia, listening to nothing but the soundtrack of 5 cock hounds moaning for dick and one little cock slut gagging insanely on his father's cock. He's mumbling too, trying to speak, but he's too lazy to pull his mouth off the cock.
"OH GOD NO CLIFF NO!" Zeke says, trying desperately to pry his son off his cock. He takes a fistful of the boy's brown hair and shoves the kid's head back, banging it hard into the dashboard, but that doesn't seem to have any effect. The kid just slurps back down, and Zeke isn't sure, but he thinks he sees a bit of a smile stretch across the boy's already stretched pink lips.
Finally the pull into Zeke's driveway, and the car is only off for a second when Zeke rips open the door and throws Cliff out of the car and onto the pavement.
"YOU FUCKING IDIOT!" Zeke roars at his son, unable to control his anger at the boy, who is looking up at him pitifully from the pavement. "SUCKING YOUR OWN FATHER'S COCK LIKE SOME FAGGOT! YOU LITTLE FAGGOT WHORE!"
Even the boys in the back of the truck fall silent at Zeke's rampage. Marco just watches in horror.
"YOU GAG ON COCK LIKE A TOTAL BITCH, SON. THAT IS NOT HOW I RAISED YOU – TO BE SOME CHILD FAGGOT WHORE. GET BACK IN THE CAR!"
Zeke barks this order as his son, but we won't ever know if Cliff would have willingly got back in the car on his own. Because Zeke doesn't waste a second picking the boy up high above his head, throwing him into the cab of the vehicle, and slamming the door shut. Cliff, who has clearly awoken from his zombie-cock loving state, looks close to tears.
"Now come on in," Zeke says to Marco, "And help me bring in Jeremy's dad too. It's time for us to have a meeting of The Fathers."
Did you like that? Did you cum? Tell me about it! Write to me at KentTheWriter@hushamil.com, or IM me on Yahoo Messenger at KentTheWriter. I only write when I have fans, so please hit me up!