Date: Sun, 10 Mar 2024 12:05:55 -0700 From: Boy Mercury X Subject: All In Good Time, Chapter One: Jerusalem This story is a fictional work of adult erotic fantasy, involving consensual sexual relations between men who are closely related. It is intended for adults only. This story is in no way an endorsement of such relationships in real life, and this author adamantly rejects any justifications for such relationships or activities in real life. Copyright, Boy Mercury X, 2024. Nifty is a free service that depends on your donations to survive. Please give generously at http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html You can find me on Twitter @TheMercuryJones, or email me at boymercuryx@gmail.com. I'd love to hear from you. ALL IN GOOD TIME, CHAPTER ONE: JERUSALEM 1. James Ryan Proctor Junior went by the name Ryan. James was his daddy, and everyone in Jerusalem, Washington, knew him as just Jim. He was handsome and handy, and not a soul in Jerusalem had a sour thing to say about him. Jim was a jack of all trades, and a collector. He was good with mechanics and animal husbandry too, and he'd worked nearly every kind of crop at some point. He did odd jobs in and around the small farming town. He could fix a tractor, knew how to deliver a calf, and during lean times for work he could harvest as well as anyone else. The men of Jerusalem liked Jim, and the women did too. They said out loud what a good dad he was to take care of Ryan, and sent pies and casseroles home with him. It was as easy to make two as one, after all. But they also liked to have him do work on their farms, because he was the only man their age worth a damn to look at. He hadn't let himself go like their husbands, and he had a charm about him. It was a shame, they said, that his wife had left him so long ago, and with that boy to raise on his own. Ryan was not a bright child, and sometimes at home Jim called him lardass, owing to his softness, his fat and his pale complexion. Ryan didn't mind so much. He craved Jim's attention more than anything else, and that was something. And if Jim called him a lardass then it must be so, because his daddy never said anything to him that wasn't true. That changed in puberty, when a bumper crop of testosterone, and Jim's free weights, melted the lard off of Ryan and revealed a sculpted form something like physical perfection. At 5'10" he was shorter than Jim, but weighed in at near 200 pounds of muscle under his soft white skin. He had bigger pecs than Jim, broader shoulders, slim hips, a high bubble butt, and a dick like a club that swayed side to side when he walked around naked, which he did often, because why waste clothes at home. Jim surely noticed the difference in his only son. Like his mother he didn't recall, Ryan had glossy black hair, blue eyes, milky white skin, pale pink nips and lips. The boy was handsome too, with a square jaw and an Irish pug nose, masculine but not harsh. Someday his chest hair might come in, but he was smooth as silk at the time, a blend of his mother's softness and his father's masculine build. Naturally Jim got to thinking, and one day after he'd had his drink he asked the boy to suck his cock. It didn't seem too much to ask. Jim had raised the boy on his own, fed and clothed him - at least when he had to leave the house. And not just the necessities. He'd cut the boy's hair and taught him grooming, kept his teeth straight and white, so he'd not be an eyesore, and even when he was fat. And for nothing much in return. The boy had no utility, which Jim couldn't abide. And for all his own good looks and the way he kept himself fit, Jim had precious few sexual outlets over the years, most of them in jaunts outside of Jerusalem, with loose women he met at roadside bars, and that was not pleasing. Ryan was eager to do the job. He'd seen Jim's rough body his whole life, and admired it, like he did everything about his daddy. He liked the ginger fur and the rough skin and the way his skin tanned, and of course his big dick and the nuts under it, that made him. Jim had to teach him how to suck him proper that first time, and he couldn't swallow the whole thing. But it was an admirable first effort, more eager than the women Jim had had. In the end Jim jerked off, holding Ryan back by his hair, to keep him from lapping at his cock until he came, in a flow of hot white lava. He let the boy free then, so he could lap it up, rather than waste the protein. "Next time we'll fuck," Jim said, certain Ryan could do at least a serviceable job of just lying there with his ass up. 2. In fact, Ryan had a gift for getting fucked. He took Jim's cock up his ass easily, and with great pleasure. When Jim fucked him the first time, a handful of Crisco for lube to make it smooth, he came so fast he had to stay in the boy to stiffen up again and go for a second round, in order to give the boy a lesson in how he liked to do it, which was long and hard. After he spewed in the boy a second time, Ryan jerked himself, puckering his hole to keep the goo in him as long as he could. That summer Jim taught Ryan everything about pleasing him. The fucking was the easiest part. On his back or side or belly or standing, bent over the sofa, Ryan had a receptive hole, and was eager to have Jim spew in him. It's not that it never hurt, but that Ryan didn't mind the hurt, and the pleasure of being filled up inside by his father's cock was so much greater. It perplexed Jim, a little, that the boy took his big cock so easily, and it made him wonder if he was losing his touch. That prompted him to fuck Ryan harder, and more often, pushing both their limits. But however much he took it out on Ryan's mouth, tits and ass, the boy took it and wanted more. Jim had a theory that like a deciduous tree has a root mass that mirrors the size of its branches, so did the boy have a bowel capacity to mirror his own generous dick. Jim had a lot of theories. Jim's dick seemed designed by nature in length and form to trigger the boy's ass clit, or given the order of their births maybe the reverse. Either way, he fucked the cum right out of the boy easily. Jim didn't mind if Ryan used his hands to rub one out, but he took a shine to the boy's hands-free loads. It was a source of some pride, and it drove him to fuck harder, knowing his cock alone was responsible for the eruptions. He might want to fuck at any time, so he trained up the boy to take spit as a lube, which was easier to clean from his pecker afterwards, and free besides. Ryan took to it eagerly, happy to please his daddy. For special occasions he might still use the crisco, and when he did he'd sometimes chuckle, remembering the boy's old nickname, lardass, and the irony of life. Learning to suck Jim off the way he liked was harder. Ryan had to learn to relax his jaw, to breath through his nose, how to let his own saliva and mucus build up to lube his father's dick as it slid in and out of his throat. It was okay for him to gag all he needed, as that was not an impediment to Jim's pleasure, just so Ryan let the big dick slide in and out his throat at Jim's will. Jim liked getting head every way, seated or on his back or standing. But his favorite was to finish off mounting his son's head, throat fucking him like it was a pussy or ass, until he shot a load straight from his balls into his son's belly, and then let it finish there, Ryan's throat muscles milking the last drops. Sometimes Jim throat fucked Ryan so hard and long the boy couldn't talk, and his stomach heaved as if to vomit. But Ryan never let that happen. It was bad enough that Jim's seed was squandered in his belly where it could find no purchase, rather than in a woman where it could catch and grow into a baby. That was regrettable, though out of their control. But it would be a sin to waste it on the ground or in a toilet. Between working their scrub farm, assisting Jim in his various projects and getting fucked as often as he did and liting weights, Ryan barely had time for sleep, so Jim lightened his chores. He wanted the boy to have proper sleep and to keep at the weights, so he'd look pleasing. The window of opportunity for that kind of beauty was fleeting, and Jim didn't want to lose any of it. Besides their house, the property had a small barn that Jim used to store the various bits and pieces of mechanical items he'd worked on or salvaged, and it's where he had his free weights. A man who didn't tend to his fitness and hygiene was a loathsome thing, he said. He liked the boy working out there while he did his own tinkering. Keep it up, Jim told Ryan about his lifting, so you look good, but not too hard. I like you just a little soft. And Jim's praise was so pleasing to Ryan that he redoubled his efforts, growing his muscles into slabs, but careful to not go too far, and he smeared the sunblock Jim blew precious money on and told him to use, to keep his skin like milk. It wasn't all fucking and sucking, though there was that, and often too. Jim took to letting Ryan sleep with him, sharing their body heat in the cold weather so as to not turn on the heat. Waste not want not, after all. He'd go to sleep with his hands clasped on the boy's titties, or his dick in that warm mouth. It was the best year of Ryan's life. Then the troubles came. 3. Jim got himself a mail-order bride. A Russian one. He could see 40 approaching, and he'd need more hands around to work the property as he got older, and if he was going to make a real family, he'd have to start soon. He couldn't count on Ryan any more, since the boy turned out to be queer. He was as obedient as could be, strong, a good cocksucker - the best - and his ass had been a gift to Jim that year. But a cocksucker couldn't make for a proper heir. Jim didn't love the Russian and she didn't love him, but they both knew the deal. But Jim had to explain it to Ryan. The boy was evicted from Jim's bed, and there'd be no more fucking between them, or not as much anyway. His seed was reserved for his bride now. He had children to make. When Ryan nuzzled up against Jim's crotch, Jim said, "You want your nut? Well it's not all about you any more." He real quick jerked a load in the boy's mouth anyway, but he could see he'd spoiled the boy, or come damn close to doing so. It crushed Ryan, and worst of all was when he could hear Jim and his wife fucking just on the other side of the wall from his own bedroom in their tiny house. Her screams just about killed him, and he imagined himself being on the receiving end of every thrust, and then taking Jim's precious load. He jerked off every time, for the first few months anyway, shamed that it wasn't him. Jim felt it too, though not as deeply. He didn't realize how much the last year had meant to him. He'd never had a partner so hungry for him, or so happy just to please him. The boy was always up for anything, and in retrospect they were just getting started. He'd thought once, briefly, of piercing the boy's tits, so he could chain them and walk him on a lead, like he'd heard of being done with bull noses. But he banished the thought with a shudder, thinking how much he valued the tenderness of the pink nipples, and what a crime it would be to do them damage. Jim took pity on the boy after he saw him moping around, and one night after he blew his load in the Russian, he came to Jim's room, his skunky wet cock half hard. "You can clean it, if you want," he told the boy, and Ryan did. After that, Jim would let Ryan suck his dick after he came in his bride. If the boy got some stray DNA as a treat, so be it. It wasn't ending up in the Russian anyway. Ryan stopped jerking off when he heard them fuck, saving it for when he'd crouch between his father's hairy legs and blow his load on the floor with his father's semi in his mouth. He'd sometimes bring Jim full hard again, and on those occassions, Jim would go back for a second time at bat with the Russian, fucking his seed into her. "You did a good job," Jim told him on those occasions, leaving the room. He did think Ryan was a good boy, in his own way. Afterwards Ryan would lie in his precum-saturated sheet, hearing his daddy's bed slam against the wall they shared, as she got the benefit of what was surely his. 4. In the fall Jim had a talk with Ryan. "Well, it looks like I'm shooting mostly blanks," he said. It was a damn shame, with his good genes, but the city doctor examined them both, and his jizz was just not as potent as it ought to be. It wasn't out of the question that he'd father a child, but the odds were against him, maybe one in a hundred, which he supposed Ryan had been. If he was a younger man again he could take the time to do it right. A hundred fucks wasn't so much. But he was running out of time, so he concocted a plan. "In the bible," he told Ryan, "when Sara could not get with child she brought in her handmaid to get knocked up by her husband, Abram, who was to be a father of nations." Ryan didn't see where this was going. He was a good cocksucker, but not a strategist, Jim thought. "I made you. You're my seed," he explained. Not only at conception, but his seed had been feeding the boy for the last year. It was woven into those fine muscles and the blood that made his lips dusky colored and even in his balls and the semen he, in turn, made. "So your seed is my seed, or as good a second best as there is." He finally cut to the chase. "I need you to put babies up in her, since I can't." She didn't have a problem with it, but Ryan was nervous. He'd never even been with a naked woman, much less put his dick in one. But Jim took care of everything. To warm him up, Jim let Ryan suck his cock, while the Russian watched, fingering herself as the boy stiffened up real quick. When Jim told him to, Ryan dutifully got between her legs, stroking his erection, and looking for where to put his thing in. "Don't get it in her ass," Jim warned. Ryan slid up into her and gasped at the smooth slick feeling as her snatch hugged his cock. "Ohmygod," he whispered. It was like silk, which he'd touched once. Jim looked on approvingly as Ryan started pumping into her, finding his best position, his muscular legs spread like a frog's. He was rolling with all his muscular strength, and the Russian's pussy hugged his dick and she made little whimpering sounds. Jim carefully mounted the boy, sliding up into his rear with one easy slide, lubed up as he was for the occasion. Good god, he'd missed this. They both had. "Oh Daddy," Ryan groaned, his handsome face twisted up with pleasure. "Don't cum yet," Jim said, just starting to ride his boy's white muscle ass. He wanted to get his pleasure out of this business, after all. The boy had long ago disciplined himself to not cum too quick when Jim fucked him, hard though it was not to. If Jim was having a long fuck, he preferred the boy to cum, because the convulsions of his innards felt so good around Jim's dick, and he liked how after they went slack and soft. But this was different, because while he could normally just not touch his dick, it was now in the Russian, and she was urging him on with her words and with whatever trickery she had that was pulling his dick so strong but sweet. "Daddy, I can't... I can't hold it," Ryan near whimpered. Well, it was what it was, so Jim reached under and around the boy's lat muscles to catch hands on his big boy titties, which could always make Jim cum fast, and he did. "God damn, FUCK, god damn!" he belted as his wick spilled a load of fresh hot semen into Ryan. It seemed more than he'd ever cum before, so aroused was he by the situation. Panting, he said, "You're full of my seed now. Put it in her." He'd never cum in anything before but his hand or bed sheets, but Ryan didn't need to be told twice. With his dad straight up in his rectum, and the milking he was getting below, it seemed his dick was exploding. He groaned out loud and spasmed as his balls and dick unleashed their contents in the Russian, who was saying Yes, yes, yes and laughing. Jim crawled off the boy, who he let have a rest. He ran his hand over Ryan's muscular back, coated with a thin film of sweat, then rounding the curve of his firm ass, tracing his hole and then reaching down to cup the boy's pale purple nuts, squeezing them gently, saying, "Get it out. Get it all out." Ryan kept grinding into her for what seemed like forever, breathing hard. Her pussy stayed clamped on his dick, and with her arms she pulled him closer again and again. His dick was still leaking in her, but he thrust into her, once, and then again, and again. "Is he still hard in you?" Jim asked the Russian. "Uh huh," she laughed. Ryan's thrusting picked up pace and his father said "I'll be damned." Jim was impressed at what a natural fucker the boy was. God knew he'd had no training in this function. But he moved with feline grace on her, like a panther, and Jim was proud. What a thing of beauty he'd made. He told Ryan he could cum a second time, and the boy did, mostly thinking of all the seed still in him from the pummeling his daddy gave him just a few minutes earlier. Even hours later his farts would still smack wet, he could tell. He pulled out and rolled over, exhausted, but Jim right away got down on top of the Russian, shoving his dick up in her so he could cum in her too, blending his semen with the boy's. That would up the odds of a pregnancy. And they wouldn't even know for sure whose it was. 5. Jim had another idea, to improve production. Or reproduction, as it were. "Let me explain the math of this to you," he said to Ryan. "Every man's ejaculate can make millions of babies. But each woman can only make one at a time, barring twins or such. And she can only do it for a few days each month." The inefficiency of the female reproductive system vexed Jim, and he thought how he'd design it better. But in the end it meant the Russian had weeks until the next cycle when she could get knocked up, so there'd be no need for Ryan to fuck her again until at least then. That seemed a waste, and Jim hated waste. So he came up with a plan to better use the time until then. It wasn't only the waste, if he was honest. Although it had been at his instigation and instruction, he didn't care for the whole threesome, not as a regular thing. It was hot as fuck the one time, but he didn't care for how the Russian looked at Ryan after that, like a hungry woman eyeing a prime steak. He also didn't care to be the fifth wheel, or in this case the third, and if anyone was going to be fucking it ought to be him. In his clever way Jim had come up with a solution, which he showed to Ryan. It was a device with a clear acrylic tube, open with a rubber seal on one side, connected by a tube to an electronic box. It looked a little like a milk machine for cows, but much smaller, and with only one sucker, where there were usually a few for the udders. It was an invention of Jim's, made using various parts he'd accumulated and his own ingenuity, to collect Ryan's seed, which they'd preserve in a freezer, just like they do the prize sire males. Sometimes the breeders use an artificial mount, Jim explained knew. But for young bulls, rams, and bucks not trained for the artificial vagina, they use electroejaculation to force the semen out of them, using an electric probe in their rear to prod the prostate. "You're going to prod me?" Ryan asked. Jim chuckled. No. Not electronically. He'd flirted with the idea of at least trying it. It made him stiff as fuck to think of an electric prod up the boy's cooter, compelling load after load out of his beautifully muscled body. But although he was confident of his ability to jerry rig such a thing for human use, it was better not to take the risk. Instead he had Ryan lube himself up, cock and ass, and stick his dick in the clear tube. When Jim flipped the device on, the suction vacuum sealed the tube on the boy's pubes, like a milking machine. A second switch started a rhythmic pumping. "How's that feel, son?" he asked. "It's good," Ryan moaned. "Weird." Jim pulled up behind the boy and slid his dick up his greased-up cooter in one thrust. The boy leaked out precum and the milking machine sucked it right up. Good. This would work. It felt good to be back in his boy, despite the sucking sound of the milking device. When Jim was near ready to bust, he reached his hands under the bent boy to cup his tits. He never had enough of them, swole with muscle as they were, but also velvety smooth. And then he nutted, which made the boy cum too, as if on command. Ryan groaned as the milker slurped at his erection, in turn making his own sphincter twitch and pulsate, squeezing the cum out of his father. It didn't feel as heady as when they did the same with the Russian, but Ryan liked it better because it was just him and Jim. In the end Ryan's balls were sucked dry, but his ass was full. Jim knew that if he did the same with his own spooge, he'd improve the odds. The more little worker sperm there were, the more likely one would get the job done, even if some were slackers. But fuck the math. It was beneath his dignity to put his seed in a tube rather than in a hungry warm hole. And besides, he'd deprived himself enough lately. It would be his job to push every drop out of the boy, by hitting the little walnut of an ass clit with his own prod, the dick God gave him. Jim showed him the vial in which his nut juice was collected, filled with the white stuff. Jim capped it, labeled it, and put it in a special freezer with its own generator. The next day they did it again, and then again. They did it every day for most of that month. Then when it was time for the Russian's cycle, Ryan had days off so Jim could insert the stud samples into her, finishing off with his own load. Those were the worst days for Ryan, without having even his most base purpose. But then Jim would be at it with him again, using the milker and getting his own pleasure. They did this all summer until one day Jim was satisfied, counting the racks of Ryan's stud semen in his freezer. Jim could practically see a farm full of young bucks, fit and obedient as Ryan. Fields of them. Countries. And he'd be Abram, father of nations. It made him feel so proud he worked up another erection and let the boy suck him off while he played with those muscle tits. He blew a load in the boy's throat that could have been used for baby making. But maybe that was not its only utility. 6. Jim now had enough sperm to populate a nation, but still just one womb. So he made a plan, and it was the worst one of all. He cashed out some of his savings, to get more mail-order brides. They wouldn't be legally married, of course, but if all went according to plan they'd be knocked up soon with anchor babies. The Russian arranged for them. They were her sisters, she said, and they'd be sister wives. They took up the household, and spoke in languages neither Jim nor Ryan understood. "Sisters my ass," Jim said. "They're no more kin of hers than I'm the pope." Jim referred to them as the USSR because of all their different accents. And he didn't sleep with them except for in their window to get pregnant, injecting them first with one of Ryan's samples and then finishing the job himself. But with four of them, there was always someone to sleep with, and it was rarely Ryan. One day he told Ryan he'd have to make a change, which would break both their hearts. "I hate to do it, but I have to turn you out," he said to the boy. "You're old enough now. Hell, you're as old as I was when I made you. And the USSR, they're eating me out of house and home, and then there's the drinking. You're a good boy, but I need one less mouth to feed. And all that protein of yours isn't cheap." Ryan listened in disbelief. "I have an acquaintance in Eden, a few hours away. Did some work for him a year back, and learned we have some shared interests, you could say. He's a little older and needs a good boy, for work on the farm and such. I told him about you, and he says you'll do fine." Ryan begged him not to do this, saying he'd eat less and work more. He'd only eat the protein from Jim's loads, if that was okay, he'd make more stud sperm, and not be a bother. "Don't make this harder than it has to be, son. I'm going to miss having you here," Jim said, and choked up a little. He didn't know that he'd ever have his hands on boy tits like those again, and the whole of the USSR were sad excuses for sucking cock as good as he did. He asked Jim when he could come back home, and Jim told him all in good time. They fucked that night in the barn, with no milking device, just Jim's cock and Ryan's every hole. The boy was made for fucking, looking good, and turning protein to muscle. To show he hadn't gone soft, Jim did him hard, throat fucking him like he liked to do, then his ass, with the boy on his side, on his back, on his belly. When he couldn't take holding it any longer, he let the boy straddle him so he could look at those titties and see the ecstasy in the boy's face as shot straight up into his guts, pushing the boy's cum out in hot white streaks over Jim's furry chest and belly. Jim didn't mean to be rough to hurt the boy on that night of all nights. But he couldn't be soft this time. Bad enough he couldn't allow himself to put hands on Ryan's boytits this time, because that prompted feelings to swell from a place too deep and dark in his own soul that would weaken his resolve. In the morning Jim put Ryan on a bus with a one-way fare to Eden. Better to do these things fast, he knew. "Promise me," he said to the boy, "no tattoos. Stay fit as you're able. And don't do a thing to those tits." The boy dropped into his seat, still reeling from the turn of events. Before the bus departed, he opened the window to say goodbye to his daddy one last time, trying so hard to trust this was the right thing. "But what'll I do?" he asked. "Follow your dick, son," Jim said. "Your head will lead you astray from time to time, and the heart's a deceiver. But your boner will never lie. A hard dick is the one true compass a man has in this world." It was the only advice he'd ever given his son, and if only he'd followed it himself he'd have spared them both so much of the pain that was to come. - END PART ONE. TO BE CONTINUED. -