Date: Sun, 14 Jul 2013 20:24:48 -0700 (PDT) From: Macout Mann Subject: DADDY'S PIMP 10 This is a fictional story that involves overt sexual activity between males. If you find such offensive or if you are below the age that where you live the reading of such material is illegal, please read no further. Please let me know what you think of the story. Your reaction means a lot, whether positive or negative. I will respond to each email. Reach me at macoutmann@yahoo.com. Your donations are what keep nifty.org available and free. As Amos Winters, the famous televangelist in the story might have said, "Folks, if you want this good work to continue, we've got to hear from you." Copyright 2013 by Macout Mann. All rights reserved. DADDY'S PIMP by Macout Mann X Margaret returned from San Francisco. She was not happy. She told Roger and Kyle that there were fewer than twenty mourners at the funeral. Clarence had told her that was just how it was in Sanfran. But then at the funeral he had told the congregation, such as it was, that only he had supported Willie in his last days. "I should be glad I went," she said, "but Dad was right. Willie was not ours anymore." Life returned to normal. Roger loved to play with Glen...and Dwight...and Conner. So did Kyle, but he found himself spending more time with Sean. He'd often drop one of the others after a session in the den and head for Sean's pad, where he'd spend the night. All this activity didn't help his schoolwork, but he was still making Bs and Cs. He was okay with that. About six weeks after Margaret's return, however, Ben had an unexpected visitor, Clarence. "Well, what brings you back here, Clarence?" Ben asked. "I thought you were a dedicated San Franciscan." "It's just not the same without Willie, Ben. Besides, I just can't support myself out there anymore." "I doubt there are any better opportunities here," Ben suggested. "I thought I could count on you and Roger to give me some help," Clarence whined. "I don't know how that would be possible. The foundation doesn't have any research jobs open, and I doubt that you'd be interested in going back into a position like that after all these years." Ben was beginning to be annoyed at his former friend's presumptuousness. "I was thinking you all might want to just put up enough cash so I don't have to be homeless," Clarence said. "I don't need a whole lot." Getting no response from Ben, he continued. "You do remember that I was the one responsible for getting you on as Roger's assistant when Roger was first promoted. You might have some gratitude for that." Ben still didn't react. "I know Mr. Beane is still down on gays. After all, he wouldn't even come to his own son's funeral," Clarence raised his voice. "No telling what he'd do, if he knew how his son-in-law and his son-in-law's right hand man had been messing around all these years." Ben was now riled up. "You surely don't think anything you would say about us would be believed, do you? You have zero credibility, Clarence! "As far as helping you is concerned, you and Willie made your bed. And we were more than generous in helping you when Willie was sick. And I'd think you might still have a good bit of that money left! "I feel no obligation to you, Clarence. And I have work to do." Clarence was unceremoniously escorted from Ben's office. Clarence didn't give up, however. He made an appointment with Roger. Roger, of course, had been briefed by Ben, who recommended Roger not even agree to see Clarence. But Roger felt that should Clarence really go to his father-in-law, he should be able to truthfully say that he had met with Willie's concubine and rejected his efforts at blackmail. Clarence was not subtle. Once Roger's secretary had closed the door, Clarence opened his fly and asked, "Remember this motherfucker, Rogey boy?" "Why should I?" Roger responded. He smiled condescendingly. "'Cause you've tasted it often enough, and you and Ben aint leaving me out in the cold now that Willie's gone." Roger continued to smile, although his words had no trace of good feeling. "Look, Clarence, I'm sorry that you're down on your luck since Willie's death. But you're not going to blackmail me or Ben. "Look at yourself. You're nothing but a disgraced faggot who chose to move to the west coast with your boyfriend, once he was uncloseted. You can say whatever you want, and we'll deny whatever you say; and who do you think will be believed? Not you, my `friend.' "You want help? The only help I'll give you is a ticket back to the Castro. And if you know what's good for you, you'll accept my offer." "Go fuck yourself!" Clarence spat. Clarence of course did realize that what Roger and Ben were saying was true. He did have some money left from the $40,000, however. Maybe two thousand. He found himself a cheap room and began to case Roger's house. He soon discovered a pattern of visitors and began to follow Kyle when he took them home. He was intrigued by Dwight. He seemed so young. He kept tabs on the boy and found that he was still in high school. Clarence also noticed that he often visited the park after school. Could he be hustling? Clarence would see. He arranged an encounter with Dwight on the trail. As usual Dwight was on his bike, and Clarence made it seem like he was about to be run over by the youngster. "Sorry, mister," Dwight said. "That's o.k., son," Clarence replied. "No harm done. What you up to?" "Nothing, really. Just seeing what's going on." "You suck dick?" Clarence asked. "I'll pay." "I'm into about anything," Dwight grinned. "I thought so. How old are you anyway?" "Eighteen." "Shit!" Clarence feigned regret. "Too bad, son. I'm lookin' for some jailbait." Dwight giggled. "Oh, I pass for eighteen," he said. "That's what most dudes want, but I'm really just seventeen." "Oh? You got a driver's license?" "No sir. We aint got no car." I guess I'll have to take your word, then." Clarence led Dwight into the bushes and showed him his seven inch dick which Dwight eagerly swallowed. In two to three minutes Clarence deposited his seed in the boy's throat and said, "Fuck, kid, you really know how to give head." "I've had some practice," Dwight proudly answered. "You wanna do me?" "Why not?" Clarence replied. "You've had some practice, too," Dwight contentedly announced, as Clarence demonstrated his expertise. "Shit, you're good!" Dwight hadn't bothered to negotiate a price. He hadn't even thought about getting paid, but Clarence passed him a twenty anyway and also got his full name and phone number. Said he'd be in touch. The next day he called Dwight's school, posing as a prospective employer. He told the office that Dwight had applied for an after-school job and he was checking to make sure that he had listed his correct age on the application. The school was happy to check and confirm that Dwight was indeed seventeen. Clarence also contacted Dwight and arranged for the boy to visit him at his apartment Saturday afternoon. He had noticed that Dwight had seemed very open. So after they had had a wild fuck session, Clarence encouraged him to talk about his experiences. Dwight didn't hesitate to tell in detail about his visits to "this dude about your age that that'll do fucking anything while his son watches us." On the nightstand by his bed Clarence had a mini-recorder that was easily mistaken for a cellphone. It recorded Dwight's every admission. Conner was something else. Dwight had referred to Kyle as "Jimmy," but he was sure he'd heard Conner call him "Kyle." There seemed to be a completely different relationship with Conner than with Dwight or Glen. He decided to risk a frontal approach. He had no trouble learning Conner's full name. Then, waiting until Conner's roommate was away, he boldly knocked on their dorm room door. "Hi, Conner," he began, "Clarence is my name. I'm a good friend of Kyle and his dad. Got a minute?" "I guess." Conner hesitated, but then let the older man in. Once seated, Clarence told Conner that he'd just come back to town after living in San Francisco for several years. Said he'd lost contact with most of the guys he used to play around with. "And you were hoping I'd be interested in messing around?" Conner said. Clarence stroked his dick through his jeans so its outline was clearly visible to the college boy. "Somethin' like that..." he grinned. "Well, if you're a friend of the Winters...but I can't get into anything here. My roommate might show up." "I've got a place to go," Clarence said, sealing the deal. When they arrived at Clarence's apartment, he wasted no time in getting Conner bareassed. "Nice nips," Clarence said as he began to nibble. "Thanks, dude." Clarence made short work of tonguing his way from Conner's chest to his abs to his rigid dick. He was still fully clothed. "Taste it," Conner ordered. Clarence fell to his knees, slipped his lips over the younger man's knob and let Conner face fuck him until he drank every drop of semen that Conner's tool could deposit in his hungry mouth. Only then did he pull his knit shirt over his head and push his jeans around his ankles. "Do me," was all Clarence had to say. Afterward they cuddled together, and Clarence enticed Conner to come back again. He also devised a ruse by which he convinced Conner not to tell the Winters that the two of them had been together. After a couple of more hot sessions at Clarence's apartment Clarence had been able to get Conner to open up about his relations with Kyle and Roger. He also admitted that he was deathly afraid his parents might discover he was gay. He said he was sure that financial support for college would be stripped from him and he that he might even be ordered out of their home. It was then that Clarence revealed his true identity and forced Conner to sign an affidavit admitting to all that had happened in the Winters' den on Jones Boulevard. He simply threatened to tell Conner's folks about his sexual orientation, and by this time he had recordings made on his trusty mini-recorder establishing in Conner's own voice what had been going on. Clarence made another appointment with Roger, hinting that he was now ready to accept Roger's earlier offer.