Date: Wed, 24 Jun 2020 16:37:13 +0200
From: THE BOSS <CigarBull@mail.com>
Subject: THE BOSS, MY FATHER

This is fantasy, a work of imagination: Just a story.  Feedback is good.

Choke up some money and send it to nifty.  Not much to ask for all the jerk
off pleasure this place provides.

THE BOSS, MY FATHER

Things were rough at home and I needed to see him bad.  There was nowhere
else to turn.  He scared the shit outta me; he always had.  But, a more
capable man there wasn't.  It was going to be tough and humiliating as
hell, even if things broke just right.  Please, let him be in a good mood.

Called and got a gruff ok, but would have to wait as he had business.
Went, and sat in his outer office with all the other supplicants.  It was
degrading already, but I had no choice. Finally his secretary motioned me
to go in with a warning to wait inconspicuously in a corner till he was
done with his men.

Tension was as thick as the sweat dribbling down the faces of the men
standing sheep-like in front of him.  His top construction bosses were
bowed and fearful as he brutally ragging them out while finishing up some
paperwork at his desk.  Dad was in a fury, his face red, veins knotted and
pulsing in his forehead.  The tie around his bull neck was tight, and his
muscles were corded from all his bellowing and raging.  His guys were
behind on a major project and he was savaging them for being lazy and weak
with the men.

His blue collar foremen were mature and ordinarily arrogant and dominant,
but were now totally cowed, like a bunch of high school boys who knew that
dad was about to apply the strop to their tender asses.  All were big guys,
except for Jack, the only white collar guy he tolerated who was his young
accountant. Finishing his desk work, Dad stood and really let them have it.
Raising a fist, many of them shirked back, fearful.  Noticing me and with a
slight scowl, he motioned me to a chair in the back.  I sat down fast.

Dad moved from behind his desk and went to each of his bosses one by one.
Grabbing them by their shirt fronts, he jerked them forward getting right
in each face, tearing them to ribbons as they quaked in whipped fear.  The
testosterone was so thick you could cut it with a knife and it was all
coming from him.  Mostly they looked down at their feet not daring to face
him.  Occasionally, he grabbed a hard bristly jaw and jacked a head up so
the guy had to look him in the eye.  I could see the dread in their faces.

With a contemptuous sneer, he dismissed them and they hurriedly left sweat
dripping from their faces.  Looking over at me, he again motioned and I
scurried over and sat next to his desk.  He sat in the next chair, fully
facing me.  `What is it this time Dexter?'

`Dad, I...things are rough at home, and, ah, I don't know what...'

`Cut the baby talk boy.  What is it.'

`Joyce wants a divorce and I don't.'

`And I'm supposed to fix your fucking mess, again?  Be a man in your own
home.'

`I can't Dad, I tried, I try, but she is always angry and...'

`Knock her up, you weakling.  Act like a man and maybe you'll become one.'

`She won't ah...'

That got a sneering harrumph from him, then silence.  `I'm a fucking busy
man, and, and gotta waste my little free time on you?'  That burned hotter
than they heavy razor strop he used to regularly apply to my ass.  Raising
my head to look at him, I instantly looked back down again, quaking.
`Shit, alright, I'll be over this evening at 7.  See that she has a good
dinner for me.'

`Yes sir, thank you sir.  I'm very gratef...'

`Cut the crap.  Now get outta here, I got work to do.'

I left, sweating just like his construction bulls had as the next guy went
in, white faced and scared.  He was a brute, decisive and used to getting
his way.  He had the manner, the attitude, the muscle to back it up.  That
had been hard, but maybe worth it.  If anyone could save my ass, he could.

Joyce bitched and bitched, but made a good dinner just the same.  Of course
he sat at the head of the table, she on the left, me on the right.  He
mostly ate, shooting hard looks at each of us.  It was as uncomfortable as
he no doubt intended it to be.  Pushing his plate away signaled each of us
to do the same.  `Now, what's the problem with you two?'  She immediately
launched into a litany of my faults, mostly having to do with being weak,
indecisive and annoyingly agreeable.  As she talked, Dad fished a 70 ring
maduro out of his jacket pocket and rammed it in his jaw pulling on his tie
to loosen it and popping the top button of his shirt Chawing, he listened
intently as she spoke.  Joyce was calming down; Dad had that kind of aura.
When he wanted, those he was with were terrified and docile.  When he
wanted, they calmed down, also docile.

He motioned us to get up, and we all went into the living room.  He sat in
the middle of the sofa, we sat, like kids, on each side.  `You're married,
and want to wimp out.  You both made a deal and you're too spoiled and weak
to stick to it.  That won't do, you gotta try harder.'

`We don't have kids' Joyce said with barely suppressed contempt.  I wanted
to have children, Dexte...either doesn't or...can't.'  I could feel my face
burning as Dad slowly turned to look at me, chomping on his stogie.  `Get
me a drink, no, the bottle Dexter.'

`Yes, sir.'

As I went into the kitchen, Dad took Joyce's hand in his big paw and turned
to her.  I leaned up against the kitchen counter shaking and wiping the
sweat from my forehead.  Opening the bottle I took a deep, deep swig.  They
were talking in the other room and I could pretty much hear what they were
saying.  Sometimes it was loud, sometimes barely whispering, though with
his deep bass voice, Dad's words were hard to miss.  She wound up telling
him that I was a dud in bed, and lately could barely get it up.  I knew
what he was thinking.  That I had always been a weakling, and also that I
was under equipped with a small cock and negligible balls.  All those
whippings over his knee, with me little dick bouncing on his leg... The
idea of going back in was horrible, and I took another deep swing of the
scotch, feeling it burning through me.

It got quieter in there, the talking was low, then ended completely.
Upping the bottle, I drank deep again and taking it with me moved over to
the door, knelt and cracked it open a sliver.

Dad has shucked his suit jacket and shirt, his tie dangling around his bull
neck and down his massive furred chest and gut as he chawed hard on his
cigar.  He had her blouse off and was roughly working her boobs.  Her
nipples were erect as he mauled them.  Pushing her back against the side of
the sofa, he took the cigar out of his mouth and chomped down on her boobs
slobbering and biting.  Taking one of her hands he forced it into his
crotch.  I took another big swig, my dick stirring in my pants.  Her hand
was convulsively squeezing the huge bulge. Dad rose and stood towering over
her as her hand madly worked the gross plug in his crotch.  Snickering, he
shoved his cigar back in his jaw, watching as she undid his heavy leather
belt and unzipped him.  My cock was rock hard in my pants, much, much
harder than it had ever been with my wife.  Taking another deep belt of the
booze, I watched as she yanked Dad's pants down revealing his huge hard
cock which sprang up from his massive hairy loins right in front of her
face, his long hood drooling man juice, drip, drip, drip.

Dad was an enormous, hairy man, classically tall, dark and handsome, with a
cock shockingly darker than the rest of him.  With a long puckered hood, it
was girdled with thick veins.  He stood there hugely admiring what he saw
over his stogie as he throbbed and pulsed it lewdly.  Her hand, then the
other as well, reached out and began spastically stroking that big, gross
shaft sending the heavy hood sliding forward, then back to reveal the dark
purple, thick, thick knob, fat heavy balls swinging below.  He was looking
down, contemplatively chawing his stogie as he enjoyed having his son's
wife, wild with lust, jerk on his big, fat, dark dick.  Arrogantly proud of
his whopper and contemptuous of those who served it he sneered around his
cigar.  Wrapping two big hands over the back of her head, he pushed her
down on his organ, grunting as her lips parted.  With a deep growl, he
thrust forward and lodged the fat hooded knob in her mouth, hissing out
`Suck it, slut.'

Except, Joyce wasn't sucking my father, he was righteously skull fucking
her.  `Maybe, if you served Dexter like your serving me, I wouldn't need to
be doing this,' he growled out with a snicker pumping his horse dick in her
mouth.  She was gagging and slurping, wildly turned on by his overwhelming
power.  Grunting and chawing, he was jack hammering to the back of my
wife's mouth, most of his big dick outside her lips, that's how fucking big
he is.  I was working my aching dick through my pants watching as he picked
up the pace, but never choking her out.  Then rolling his stogie around in
his jaw and grunting deep, the big balls tightened and he began
ejaculating, the seed spraying out from her lips, as my father fed her his
load.  She slobbered it down her throat, sucking as much of it in as she
could.

Pulling out, hard as a lead pipe, he yanked her up and stripped her pants
off, then his.  Shoving her roughly on her back on the sofa, Dad lowered
himself, and taking his cudgel in his paw, worked it over, then in her
tight pussy.  With a flex of his loins, backed by his mass, he rammed it in
and with a series of power thrusts seated himself to his big, gross balls.
Her cunt stretched and stretched as the baseball bat thick cock sheathed in
her, legs splayed wide over his muscled, hairy shoulders.  He slammed his
weapon in over and over, fat balls flopping heavy on her spread cunt, his
muscles playing, sweat pooling in his fur.  My mouth hung open in awe,
seeing that colossal tree trunk shaft riding up and slamming down, her cunt
lips molded tight sucking subserviently on his meat.

Took another deep swig, moaning and squeezing through my pants as he fucked
her long and deep, the sofa shaking with each thrust.  Finally with another
series of bass growls and jack hammering furiously, his pool-balls hardened
and he ejaculated again, deep in my wife.  The seed drooled out of her
stretched wide cunt as he slowly pulled out.

`Now, go to your bedroom and wait for yer husband.'  Without a word, she
pulled herself together, gently stroking his mighty cock as it dripped with
the last of his seed.  It flopped, hanging long and thick, drooling out
slobber.  Looking back at Dad, and dizzy on her feet, she staggered up the
stairs.

Dad watched, and when she was gone, laughed and hissed out, `whore.'  He
bit off the chawed end of his cigar, spat it on the rug and lit up, then
strode quickly to the kitchen door and threw it open.  `Knew I'd find you
here Dexter.  Like what you saw?'

I was on my ass, sprawled out drunk, my little pecker standing to attention
in my drawers.  I looked up stupidly in first his face over his glowing
stogie, then slowly down to that huge, dark, ugly cock wagging and dripping
between his legs.

`You like that too, don't you, son?'  And, with that, he grabbed my by the
hair and pulled me up and onto his cock.  I couldn't help myself and began
slurping on the half-hard shaft, licking up into the luxuriantly hooded
knob, sucking down the last of his seed and my wife's pussy
juices. Sneering as he smoked his cigar, he bobbed my up and down like a
rag doll as his cock stiffened to full mast.

`You don't get it so easy, boy.'  Dad held my head and began power fucking
my face.  When he hit the back of my mouth he just kept going lodging it
deep in my throat.  As I gagged and bucked, he expertly skull fucked me,
the fat shaft reaming my throat wide. I could feel the hood rising and
sliding up and down over his knob and the thick veins as he plowed me.  I
raised my fists and began beating on his massive hairy gut which got him
laughing and fucking me harder.  Planting it to my face, crushing me into
his crotch hair, head thrown back, puffing on his storie, he held me down
as I started to pass out.  His bull cock began throbbing and seed began
gushing, burning hot and thick deep in my guts.  Slowly, he let me slide
off his organ, inch after inch till it plopped out swinging like one of his
construction booms.  Still hard, it was swollen enormous, frightening and
hideous streaked with my throat slobber and his seed.

Dragging me to my knees, butt up, he undid my belt and yanked my pants down
so my ass was bare.  It was like all those times he beat me with his strop,
naked ass over his massive knee.  Only, after slamming a fist over my mouth
he began working his thick fingers in and out of my ass.  I was screaming
into his palm as he rammed first one, then finally three up into me and
began stretching me out.

I was choking on thick cigar smoke as he dropped to his knees behind me and
thrust forward.  It felt like what it was; enormous.  Even with the
stretching and his force, he couldn't get in.  With a splat, i felt his
cigar gob drooling thick on my ass.  With another thrust, he blasted into
me.  Screaming into his hand, he hammered inch by inch deeper with each
jab.  'Yer a fucking fag, boy.  Always knew it. Even so, yer gonna produce
tonight in yer wife.  But, first I'm gonna show you how it's done.'

My father is the conquering hero.  He was taking what is his but not worthy
to stand beside him.  Towering over my bent body, he was proud, he was
smokin a man's cigar, he was doing man's work.  He is the man.  And now, I
am his fag.  Fucking brutally, with no mercy, he stretched me a boy-pussy.
He'll be taking it a lot.

He was killing me, my guts were on fire, by hole was ripped wide.  Grunting
and swearing, he slammed his cock into me, much harder, I thought, then in
Joyce.  Moaning and crying into that huge, crushing hand over my mouth, I
surrendered.  Even if it killed me, I was going to die serving him.  Dad
sensed it at once and slid two fat fingers into my mouth.  My slutty
sucking on them got him riding me harder.  He'd go deep, pause and slame it
harder still.  Screaming and slobbering on those fingers stretching and
shoving in my mouth, he went into overdrive.  His balls hurt as they
smacked into my own tiny sack.  Swelling, that monster way up in my guts
began pumping seed.  It exploded like fire into me, pulse after pulse.  I
lay crushed under my father for a long time, then he pulled out.

Jerking me to sitting, he shoved his cock in my mouth.  At once, I began
sucking him clean as he nodded his approval.  `Now, Daddy has fed you with
man power.  Get your sorry ass upstairs and do your duty to the male race.
Wiping my mouth, clotted with my father's seed and feeling it pouring out
of my pussy, I staggered to my feet, my face sliding over that terrible,
gigantic cock one last time.  Looking down in shame, now my father's fag,
his property to do with as he pleased, I went up and fucked her.

Nine month's later she gave birth to a fine, healthy big-dicked boy.  The
kid's paternity was never in question. In fact, she was being fed a load of
his seed with me sucking on his balls as she gave birth.  Dad had fed her
every day telling us he was feeding his son so he'd grow big and tough.
He'd fuck her after.  When her belly swelled large, after feeding his seed
down her throut, he'd mount my pussy and finish off there for the night.