Date: Mon, 18 Apr 2022 20:20:55 +0300 From: Daemon D. Hart Subject: In It For Life - 12 Copyright 2022 -- Daemon D. Hart Please consider make a donation to Nifty! This site is unique on the net and deserves your support. In It For Life 12. He wrapped his arms around Karl from behind. They had been allowed to sleep there, in one of the bedroom upstairs, after the senator told them that he would deal with Bea's parents and the press that would surely want to learn of the reason behind the breaking off of the engagement. Karl would be educated what to say, the man had added and dismissed them, while throwing one last ugly joke at them about how they were free to resume their butt-fucking. Francesco had had his ass fucked by his stepdad and thought it fucking shameful, but he still couldn't make that kind of thing go down. The fact that he was now acquainted with his future daddy-in-law's dick didn't help, either. "It looks like we survived," he whispered into Karl's ear. "Your dad is scary, but, come on, don't you want to get married?" "No." "Why?" Karl slightly turned and pushed him away. "Because I'm not a fucking faggot, Cesco. What's not to get?" "What? Seriously? You're not? Breaking news, fucker. You're fucking my ass." Karl turned again. "I'm still not a faggot." "Fuck me senseless," Francesco moaned and lay on his back, moving slightly away from Karl. "And I thought you wanted me." "That hasn't changed." "It hasn't? It looks to me like it did. What's so wrong about getting married? I know it's fucking weird, but still. You told me you were jealous of Mouse because he could be with me, for real, while you couldn't. So how about you make me fucking understand? What do you want?" "I don't want my dad's poisoned gifts. And I want you, but not with a fucking wedding." "No, not with one," Francesco said matter-of-factly. "Sure, I get it." "Are you fucking kidding me, Cesco? Don't you see the guy for what he is? He's cooking something. This isn't normal." "Maybe he sees an advantage in us getting hitched and shit. Like you know, political," Francesco suggested. "Even so. I'm not a faggot." Francesco moved and grabbed Karl by the dick. "Sure you're not. Maybe your dad is right. You don't want to be labeled one." He began to rub the cock in his hand earnestly. Karl moved his head away, but he was getting hard. "Do you want me to be your whore and only that? Is that it?" Karl growled something unintelligible. "It's only hot when it's wrong?" Francesco pressed further, increasing the rhythm of his hand. Karl grabbed him by the back of the head and pushed him into his groin. Francesco rubbed the precum from the head over his lips before swallowing the thing until his nose rested against Karl's crotch. "You don't get it, Cesco," he said in a strained voice. "Getting hitched because my dad says so is wrong. This isn't." Francesco didn't protest while Karl fucked his throat. He was used to everything by now. Sure, Karl was right, but there was really no alternative. They were not only caught. They were trapped. Karl pumped his throat and stomach with his hot cum within minutes. After that, he let go and turned his back to Francesco. "Are you fucking kidding me?" Francesco sighed. He pushed Karl a little, but the snoring that followed convinced him to drop it. *** He couldn't sleep, even if it looked like Karl had no problem with that. Also, his throat was parched, and he was in much need of a drink, the stiffer, the better. He walked downstairs, throwing nervous looks around, hating each creak that seemed to accompany each step he took. It looked like the coast was clear. There had to be a mini bar somewhere in a house like that, and he aimed to find it. He wandered along the halls, hoping that the senator and his crew was long gone. The thin line of light from under the door to that office-like room announced him that he had no such luck. Whatever, he still needed that drink. "Do you need something?" Francesco jumped. "Shit, are you a freaking ninja or something?" The senator laughed. "That was some good work, Francesco. Or should I call you Cesco?" Francesco threw a look over the senator's shoulder, worried that Karl might have wakened up and followed, just as soundless as his dad. "No, he wouldn't like that," he replied. The senator opened the door to the study. "Care for a drink... son?" Son. Right. Francesco cared for a drink, only that he would have much liked to have it by himself. He walked stiffly inside. Any choice he had on the matter had been taken out of his hands. The man's hand on his shoulder sent a jolt down his spine. "Easy, boy. I don't bite." That was, frankly, the least of his worries. *** The senator had invited him on the sofa, and only then, Francesco noticed that it had been replaced. Cum stains were probably a bitch to get rid of, and leather had to be treated right, unlike people. He stared into his glass, and his thirst was gone. It didn't look like that a good idea to hang around with this guy in the middle of the night. Francesco could feel the cold eyes on his skin, measuring him. He was startled by knuckles brushing suddenly against his cheek. "Does Karl fuck you good?" "You should know. You just witnessed it," Francesco replied gruffly. The man chuckled, sending small shivers down Francesco's skin. "I just realized. We've never been properly introduced. I'm Don." Francesco snorted. "Should I say `pleased to meet you'?" Don grabbed his jaw hard and forced him to meet his eyes. "Don't play the smartass, Francesco. Being a good boy suits you better." He leaned forward, until they were at mere inches from each other. "Whatever you say. Now you better step back. I just sucked your boy's cock." Don's smile grew wider. He brushed his thumb over Francesco's bottom lip, hard enough to hurt. "You did? With this mouth?" "It's the only way to suck off someone." "Good to know. Now suck me off, too." The order took Francesco by surprise. "For real? Why?" "Do I need a reason? My cock is hard 24/7 and sometimes any cocksucker will do." Francesco pursed his lips. So that had to be where Karl had gotten his own constant hard-on. At least it ran in the family. "Come on, what's the matter?" Don taunted him. "I bet it was barely a snack for a cum hungry whore like you." Dirty talk also ran in the family. "Am I just any cocksucker? I'll be family soon." "All the more reason to get it through your pretty head that your mouth belongs on my cock whenever I say so." "Will you hurt Karl if I say `no'?" It was worth a try. "Maybe. He's still my son. And it might be interesting to hurt you instead. He'd be fun to watch squirming. The poor schmuck thinks he's in love with you. Too bad you're a natural born cum dumpster." What could he do? Francesco contemplated the situation for a moment. He could suffer through it or just make the best out of a shitty deal. It wouldn't be a first in his life. He dropped to his knees and went for the zipper. Don spread his legs and ran one hand through his hair. "Look at me with those eyes. You'd kill me if you could, wouldn't you?" "And risk a life in jail for it? I don't think so." He grunted as Don brought his head back by pulling at his hair. "What if you could get away with it?" Francesco bore his eyes into the pale greys. "It would still be wrong." A laugh followed. "Well, that's the reason you're on your knees now, Francesco, and I'm the guy about to get his dick sucked. You think that if you do what's right, there's some reward for you stashed away. Let me break it to you. No such thing. Now suck like the little whore you are." Francesco truly hoped Don wouldn't keep him there as long as that last time. The more he was there, the higher the chances for Karl to wake up and see him with his mouth full of his dad's cock. He set to work without hesitation. Maybe the senator wasn't keen on being found like that, either, and he wouldn't take forever. Just like Karl, Don forced his head up and down along his length, watching him all the time. Francesco was surprised when the man leaned over and suddenly grabbed his ass. "I'll fuck you this time," he said. "Pants to your ankles." Francesco pushed himself back, dropping the hard cock from his mouth. "No," he said without thinking. He froze, waiting a comeback, a slap or worse. But Don just smiled. "Fight me, little bitch. I dare you." Not a good idea. "Why?" Francesco asked, stalling for time. "Why fuck me? Doesn't it make you a faggot, too?" Don leaned forward and grabbed his chin. He took his time, looking at Francesco from the sides, then the front, as if he wanted to find the answer to an important question. "Two kinds of people in this world, son, just two kinds. The ones getting fucked, and the ones doing the fucking." "Karl's doing the fucking, too," Francesco said, fighting hard the impulse to pull free from the man's cold touch. "He's a pansy," Don replied without a trace of emotion. "Look how easy I got you where I wanted. And he thinks himself in love with you." "I can't be the first," Francesco said slowly, boring his eyes into that steely gaze. "What?" A small frown. A small victory. "Does your wife knows you're fucking boys Karl's age?" He wasn't surprised when Don grabbed his throat and squeezed in warning. Francesco fought to breathe, but otherwise stood still, not wanting to give the man the satisfaction of watching him squirm and beg. "You are something, Francesco," Don said, somewhat amused. "It'll be a fucking pleasure to take you apart." "Isn't it a bit too time-consuming?" Francesco asked breathlessly. "You could get rid of me quickly." "What would be the fun in that? Heed my words, boy. You're nothing but a tool for me to teach my son a lesson. He'll see you for what you are and how and why this thing he sees in you doesn't exist. What I'm doing for him is called tough love." "Oh, yeah?" Francesco dared. "How is fucking me in the ass called?" Don laughed and this time, took Francesco by surprise when he gave him a hard tongueless kiss on the mouth. "It's called being the man in charge. Now, enough talking. Ass up." Francesco was pushed away, and for a moment, considered doing something stupid like running or shouting for Karl. Don took again the decision from his hands as he manhandled him and threw him on the couch, ass up. His jeans were pulled down and two fingers were quick in his ass. "Karl will know if you ruin my ass," he warned. "You'll take it." Francesco heard the man spit, but when he entered, he went slowly. At first, at least. There was barely time to breathe around that girth stretching him and he was pulled by the hair, forced with his back arched impossibly taut, and then a short reprieve before Don slammed into him hard, making him gasp. "Moan, little bitch, let me hear you." Don grabbed his waist with both hands, letting go of his hair, and began to pound him like a slab of meat. "Can't deny what my boy sees in you. You have a good ass on you." Francesco hissed as Don slapped his butt cheeks, left, right, left, right, to the rhythm of his pounding. He squirmed, trying to get away from the familiar sensation of pleasure building up. "Where do you think you're going?" Don pulled him back, forcing him down his length until Francesco's ass rested against his crotch. "You had the boy, now taste the man." Why was he such a whore? Something of what Karl's dad was saying rang true. Right now, he was getting hard, and a part of him, a shameless, useless one, wanted it in a twisted perverted way. He squirmed again, determined to deny that part of him satisfaction. Don took it for something else. "You know it's useless to try and get away, don't you?" The pounding resumed, more vicious this time, rougher. Francesco sank his teeth into his own forearm to keep from screaming in pained pleasure. His ass was stretched so much. Karl had a good dick on him, but his dad was bigger, longer, thicker. Don rode him hard and leaned over him. "You're crying," he commented with satisfaction. "But you must have been fucked harder than this." Like there was a record to set straight, Don increased his rhythm, going higher. Francesco squeezed his eyes shut, all the hairs on his head on end, while his ass pulsed around the guy's cock. He let out a cry when Don suddenly grabbed his cock. "What's this? You're getting off on your daddy's dick?" "You're not my daddy," Francesco said through his teeth. "Yes, I am, baby," Don cooed in falsetto. "Come on, say it. Fuck me, daddy." "You're fucked up." Don laughed and began to pump his cock fast. Francesco squirmed and bit on his arm again, but to no effect. "You barely changed the couch," he whispered with his last remnants of strength. "It would be a shame to stain it, right?" To his relief, Don stopped and pulled out. "You're right," he said and turned Francesco face up, only to force his knees to his ears and his ass up. "It's better like this. I can watch you coming all over your own face." Francesco grunted and closed his eyes. It was even worse like this, Don's cock touching all the right ways, his own cock losing the battle. He felt the warm cum on his face and neck, and heard Don laughing. "As I thought. You look good like this, little whore." Francesco didn't have enough energy to feel angered. His eyes snapped open, though, when Don's breathing hitched and he started coming in his ass. He couldn't tell what that was the worst thing of it all, but it felt like it. His ass was milking his father-in-law's cock against his will. When Don pulled out finally, the last drops of cum fell on his face. Don slapped his ass one more time and moved away, pulling his pants up. A couple of fingers through his hair, and he looked as good as new. Francesco, on the other hand, had to look like a mess. He let his body drop and forced himself to get to his feet and pull his pants up. His shirt was ruined, his hair smelled of cum, and his ass was full of Karl's dad jizz. What a fucking day. Without a word, he walked toward the bathroom. "What are you doing?" Don asked. "Going back to Karl looking like this would make things a bit tough to explain, don't you think?" Francesco said gruffly. "Or is it game over already?" Don appeared to consider his words for a bit. "No, it's not over. I'm having too much fun." "Good for you," Francesco said dryly and gave the man an ironic thumbs-up on his way to the bathroom, one that he quickly turned into showing him the middle finger. Don burst into laughter. "Welcome to the family, son. I have a feeling we'll get along just fine." tbc You can support this story and read extra stuff at: https://subscribestar.adult/daemon-d-hart More on missing scenes from Karl's POV, the years they didn't see each other, and plenty of other stuff I write at: https://daemondhart.blogspot.com