FIGMENT
By Wes
Leigh
This is a work of wild fantasy
intended solely for the entertainment of my readers; any resemblance to any
real people or places is purely coincidental. This story involves romance and
sex between adult men as well as between men and teens and preteens, some
incestual. If you are uncomfortable with any of this, please choose another
story. This story is the property of the author and is protected by copyright
laws. The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the
author's consent.
Readers who would like to chat
are encouraged to contact me at weston.leigh@protonmail.com.
If you enjoy this story,
please support the Nifty archives today with a thoughtful donation by visiting https://donate.nifty.org/.
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Ausa Ar' volun sal
aestar va'u.
With great hatred I
love thee.
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͠ ͠
Rick and the other boys weren't home when we arrived. I
found a note on the refrigerator saying they had gone out for pizza and would
be home in a few hours. Trace didn't stop to read the note but marched straight
to his room and slammed the door shut.
I followed him and leaned against the door, listening. I might
have heard muffled sobbing. I knocked gently on the door. "Can I make you
anything for lunch?" I asked.
More muffled noises, but nothing clear.
"Trace?"
I heard heavy footsteps approaching the door, then it jerked
open and a red-faced Trace shouted, "I don't want anything, okay? I just wanna be left alone. Got it?" And he slammed the door on me.
Yeah, I guess he'd made it perfectly clear how he felt.
I walked back into the kitchen and pulled out bread, mayo, meat
and cheese. I made an enormous sandwich and placed it on a plate with Cool Ranch
Doritos, then poured a tall glass of Mountain Dew. I carried it all down the
hall to Trace's room and knocked on the door again.
"Go away!" The voice wasn't muffled this time.
"I made you lunch," I shouted through the door.
More heavy footsteps. The door opened quickly and Trace
looked at the sandwich, chips, and Mountain Dew. I could see him thinking it
over. Favorite chips. Favorite drink. Stomach growling. He rolled his eyes and
took the food from me, turned and walked back to his desk and sat down.
I waited in the doorway.
He took a bite from the sandwich, grunted, and stuffed a few
chips in his mouth. Then he followed it up with a long sip of the Mountain Dew.
He turned and looked at me. "Thanks," he mumbled, his mouth still half full of
sandwich.
"No problem," I replied, turning and leaving him to eat his
sandwich in peace.
I made my way to the apartment exit, but didn't quite reach
the door when I heard Trace running down the hall behind me. "Wait, Caleb," he
shouted. "Hold up a second."
I turned to face him. "Sure. What do you need, Trace?"
"Just to talk. Okay?"
"You want to finish your food first?" I asked.
He shook his head. "What I have to say won't take long." He
walked slowly up to me and stood before me, staring at his feet. "I was
jealous," he admitted. "Jealous of Dad and what the two of you were doing. I
haven't found anyone since we moved here, and Dad wasn't even looking for
someone, not very hard really, but you showed up and it all happened so fast
and I wanted to be the one who was fucking you—I mean, the one making love to
you."
"Trace, you're seventeen. I'm fifty-nine. That's quite a
difference."
He snorted. "Tell my cock that." He pointed down at his
crotch, and it was quite apparent that he had a sizeable problem developing in
his pants, pointing up and to the side at the moment. "When I heard you and Dad
going at it last week, I got a boner that never went down." He squeezed himself
to emphasize his point.
"I remember being your age and having the same trouble."
"I keep telling myself that it's not right. Not because
you're so much older than me. You're sexy as fuck! That's not the issue. It's
because you and my Dad are lovers, and I can't be
crushing on you like this. But it's also fucking unfair, because I don't have
anyone. The guys on the swim team are all straight. They don't care that I'm
gay, but they don't get it either. No one at school would understand if I came
out as gay. They all think I'm some kind of major league stud."
I chuckled and pointed at the swelling in his pants. "I
think they might be right about that part."
Trace laughed softly. "Yeah, I guess I am kinda blessed." He was still squeezing himself, not giving
much thought to the fact that he was making his problem worse, not better. He
looked up at me and asked, "Why couldn't you have picked me instead of my
father?" The lust in his eyes was obvious and intense. This was one horny
teenager.
I swallowed nervously. How did I solve this puzzle? I backed
up a step and found my back against the front door. "I never considered that a
possibility, Trace. To be honest, I didn't think you'd be interested in an ancient
dude like me."
Trace ignored my attempt at evading his interest. He moved a
step closer. "You aren't ancient," he said, grinning now. "You're handsome, and
you have a nice body. And I already told you that I don't care about the
difference in our ages. You can't tell your heart who to love."
I pressed myself against the door, wishing I could melt through
it. "You don't want a lover my age, Trace. You're young and virile. You need
someone who can keep up with you sexually."
Trace leaned even closer, his face now inches away. "How do
you know you can't keep up with me until you try?"
He closed the distance between us, pressing his mouth
against my own and kissing me forcefully. At the same time, his hand slid
inside my pants and grabbed my cock. The damned thing responded immediately,
boning up in the warmth of Trace's grip.
I tried to push Trace away. I really did. But he was
stronger than me and his tongue was just as delicious as his dad's. When he
realized I wasn't struggling with all my might to get away, he quickly
unsnapped my jeans and yanked my pants and underwear down to my knees. Then he
turned me around and knelt behind me, prying my butt cheeks apart and licking
my pucker, forcing his tongue inside like a starving man who hadn't eaten in
days. I guess that was an apt description, judging by how long it had been
since Trace had had a lover.
`I can't do this,' I kept telling myself. `Rick and Drew and
Figment will come through this door any minute, and I'll be here with my pants
around my ankles and my lover's son kneeling behind me, his tongue halfway up
my ass. I have to stop this now.' But I couldn't. Trace's tongue, the same
tongue I'd had in my mouth a minute ago, was now making my toes curl.
He finally backed off, but only long enough to yank his own
pants down and position the end of his cock at my pucker. I glanced back and
saw what Trace had been hiding in his pants. It must have been at least two
inches longer than his dad's and very thick around the base. That was all I saw
before he moved up behind me, pointed himself at me, and thrust up and in. I
saw stars. I felt my guts clinching at the sudden invasion. And waves of
intense pleasure rolled through my body as Trace began slamming into me from
behind.
His strong arms wrapped around my chest, holding me so I
couldn't escape. His lips kissed along the back of my neck, the sides under my
ears, up onto my earlobes, where he nibbled and sucked. And the entire time,
his cock pistoned in and out. My own boner was
pressed up against the wall. I glanced down and saw it leap each time Trace
slammed into me, and a long stream of clear liquid was dripping to the floor.
Trace sped up, pounding me hard and fast. He began chanting
each time he slammed into me, "Volur va! Volur va!"
My teeth clinched as I felt an orgasm building up. I hadn't touched my
cock. Neither had Trace. But my cock leapt and begin squirting on the door.
Trace made his strokes longer and deeper. My cock continued pulsing as the
orgasm rolled on and on, in one continuous wave of pleasure. Trace buried
himself inside me and groaned, whispering in my ear, "Volur
va ... aestar va."
He held me against his body, panting, and then slowly began
sliding in and out again, building up speed until the slapping of his body
against my butt synchronized with his heavy breathing in my ear. I began
squirting again, a long stream of drizzling cum that now pooled at my feet. I
felt Trace's cum leaking out of my hole, dripping down my thigh, and still he
pounded me. "Ni volur va
... aestar va, Caleb'il," he sighed as he shoved himself against me,
holding me as his legs quivered and his cock pulsed one more time.
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We took a hot shower together, cleaning each other up, and
getting each other sticky again when the inevitable boners resulted. After a
second round of wild love making underneath the spraying water and the
subsequent cleaning session, our cocks finally stayed flaccid, and we were able
to finish the shower and towel each other off.
Trace didn't seem to be affected at all by what we had done.
He was actually humming to himself as he dressed.
I was torn between pride at how many times I'd cum with Trace
ramming my ass and mortified by the knowledge that I had probably just ruined
my own life and this family I was beginning to care so much for.
After we dressed, I walked into the kitchen and poured
myself a glass of water. I sat down carefully, realizing just how sore my ass
was now, and drank slowly, thinking about what I had to do next.
Trace came in, carrying the empty plate and glass. He poured
himself more Mountain Dew and sat down next to me. "That was radical," he said,
grinning at me. "Can't wait to do it again."
"I don't think that's a good idea, Trace."
"Ah, come on, Caleb. My barbarian has to earn his new war
hammer, so we need to do that at least two more times before Dad gets home." He
was grinning from ear to ear, and I knew he was teasing, but I had to put a
stop to this.
"Trace, we need to talk about—"
He interrupted me. "I'm just joking, of course, but I do
want to thank you for helping me, Caleb."
I paused, confused, and asked, "For what?"
"For helping get my head on straight. For shaking me loose
from volun."
"Volun? What's volun?"
He took another sip of his drink and placed it carefully on
the table. Then he scooted his chair next to mine and took both my hands in his
own, holding them and squeezing them as he explained. "When we were making
love, I'm sure you heard what I said."
"Yes, but I didn't understand the words."
"That's because they're Elvish. Something I learned long
ago." He gulped and continued, "Volur va means `I hate you.' When I was shoving my cock up
into you, all the anger I've been feeling seemed to boil out of me. Your body
took my anger and drained it away. I kept saying `Volur
va, volur va,' but it wasn't true. I don't hate you. I can't hate
you." He looked all around the room, as if looking for help to explain how he
felt. Shaking his head, he said, "I can't hold the anger in sometimes, Caleb,
so I lash out at everyone. I make my dad miserable. I scare my brothers. I make
the other kids at school nervous. But when I was up inside you, it was like I
was pouring all my frustration out with my cock, shooting it up inside you, and
then you took it and drained me and I could think again. I could stop being
furious. Just be calm finally." He shrugged. "You probably think I'm crazy."
`Well, damn,' I thought, `After a confession like that, how
do I tell him we can't do this again?' I felt sympathy and love for Trace in
that moment, so I decided to hold off having the conversation about how this
had to be a one-off. Instead, I gripped Trace's hands in my own and whispered,
"Trace, I don't think you're crazy. I think you're just like everyone else,
looking for a way to deal with all the challenges life throws your way. You
need a way to release all the frustration building up inside."
He nodded. "Yeah, but most people don't fuck men up the ass
to do it."
I laughed. He snorted, then asked, "So, Caleb, was I good?"
I raised both eyebrows and replied, "You were amazing,
Trace. That was the most intense love-making I've ever been a part of. Honestly,
you did things to me I've never had any man do before."
He grinned. "You were the best I've ever had, too. I knew
you had it in you. Remember? I said it at the start. I thought you'd be able to
keep up with me, and you did."
I smiled and squeezed his hands. "Trace, what was the other
thing you said. At the end, when you were ... finishing."
His green eyes were bright with affection. He smiled and
replied, "I said, `Aestar va.'"
"What does that mean?"
"It means `I love you.'"
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Rick arrived home an hour later, with Figment and Drew carrying
bags of groceries.
Rick saw me sitting in the living room and leaned over the
back of the couch to kiss me on the cheek. "We're having lasagna tonight. Hope
you can stay."
"Rick, there's something we need to talk about," I said, my
tone grim and worried.
He kissed me again. "After we eat? I've got to get started
now. Or you can talk to me while you help me cook. Rick's world-famous lasagna
is a complicated mixture of blood, sweat, tears, and tomato sauce, requiring
extreme care in the preparation!"
I nodded. Yeah, telling Rick I'd been boned by his oldest
son while the two of us held chopping knives ... that would be a great idea.
I followed Rick into the kitchen.
"What do want me to do?" I asked.
He pointed at two large white onions. "Dice those. Into
small bits."
I got to work, chickening out on what I wanted to say. Maybe
it would be better to talk after we ate, when there were no pointy or
razor-edged kitchen utensils within reach.
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I was nervous the entire meal. Figment sensed my anxiety and
scooted his chair next to mine. The entire time we ate, he placed one hand on
my thigh and rubbed my leg slowly up and down. I tried to smile at him, and he
leaned his head against my arm, nuzzling me gently.
Trace sat across the table from me, smirking the entire time.
Once, he stood up to get more drinks for everyone, and it was obvious he had an
erection. While he poured my drink, he slowly squeezed his boner as he leaned
into my shoulder. I wanted to sink through the floor.
Drew sat on one side of the table, looking back and forth
between Trace and me.
Rick sat on the other side of the table, calmly eating his
food. "Trace, while you're up, you want to bring over the rest of the garlic
bread?"
"No problem, Dad," Trace replied, giving the swollen lump in
his pants a final squeeze. A wet spot appeared in his pants, turning the jeans
a darker blue.
Despite my nerves and stomach-churning anxiety, my cock
lurched in response. Figment's small hand slid up to my crotch and gently
rubbed. I was so messed up in the head that I didn't try to stop him. Why the
hell not? I was making love to the Dad, getting boned by
the oldest, and now getting fondled by the youngest. The only thing missing was
Drew asking me for a blow job.
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On the couch after the meal, wineglasses in hand, sipping a
sweet dessert wine, I finally found the courage to confess my sins to Rick.
"This is so hard for me to tell you, Rick," I began, my
throat suddenly so dry I had to pause and take another sip.
Rick shook his head. "Don't sweat it, Caleb. I think I know
what you want to tell me."
"You do?"
"Yeah. I saw what was going on at dinner. Trace did it
again, didn't he?"
"Did it again?"
"Yeah," Rick replied with a resigned sigh. "Came on to you
and convinced you to have sex with him."
I was so confused. "Wait. What? He's done this before?"
Rick nodded. "He's a horny kid, and with that huge cock of
his, he's hard to resist. You're not the first guy he's manipulated with those
beautiful, green eyes of his."
"How many times ...?" my voice trailed off in confusion.
Shrugging, Rick replied, "I've lost track. Maybe a dozen?
He's quite the stud, my boy, and most gay men find it hard to turn him down."
I was shocked. Mortified. "You know about this?"
Rick put his hand on my knee and softly answered, "Caleb,
we're fey elves. We don't look at sex quite the same way as you."
I shook my head, struggling to understand. "Please, Rick,
let's not make this any weirder than it is."
Rick chuckled. "Well, we may not have fey elf DNA, but we
definitely have fey elf attitudes. I've taught my boys to be proud of their
bodies, not ashamed. I don't want them growing up with hang-up's
about who they are and what they enjoy. I'm very open and relaxed with them
when it comes to these things."
I was finally beginning to see that Rick was not going to
freak out over what I had done with Trace. Even though I thought it might be
better to leave the conversation right where it was, I had to ask one more
question. "Aren't you upset that it was with me?"
"Why would I be?"
"Well ... because ... you and I are lovers. And I'm three times
his age!"
Rick chuckled and took the wineglass from my hand, setting
both our glasses on the side table next to the couch. Then he pulled me into
his arms and wrapped me up in a loose hug. "Caleb, your age is really not an
issue here."
"But he's a minor. I'm an adult," I objected.
"He's a man, no matter what anyone has to say."
"I should have stopped him."
"Do you think you could have?" Rick's voice was tinged with
obvious skepticism.
I slowly shook my head. "I did try. For a few seconds. But
he was rather persistent."
Chuckling, Rick replied, "Yeah, that's how Trace is when he
gets horny."
"I still should have stopped him. You and I are lovers."
Rick hugged me gently. "Exactly. We're lovers, which means I
don't own you, I don't command you, I don't tell you
who you can and can't be with."
I sighed and snuggled back against his chest. He held me,
rubbing my stomach until I relaxed, then slid his hand lower to fondle my cock,
which naturally boned up under his massaging fingers.
He whispered in my ear, "Did you enjoy it?"
Nodding, I replied, "He's very good. It was rough at times,
but I admit I did like everything he did to me."
Rick chuckled in my ear and said, "Good." Then he added,
"Would you like a second round?"
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My body shook with anticipation. The three of us were naked,
cocks pointing at the sky, standing in Rick's bedroom exchanging kisses while
we groped each other. Trace was already leaking precum, making my fingers
slippery as I stroked his shaft. He was definitely bigger than his dad, longer
by a couple of inches, and thicker. But his dad's balls were heavier and hung
down more, which I now noticed as I fondled Rick's sac. Trace was slowly
stroking Rick's cock as Rick fondled Trace's balls. They both had their free
hands on my butt cheeks, squeezing and massaging and sliding into my crack to
tease my pucker. Every time one of them brushed a finger across my hole, my
cock throbbed, eager for one of them, maybe both, to quit toying with me and
impale me.
Rick slipped around behind and knelt down, prying my butt
cheeks apart so he could press his tongue against my hole. Shivers passed up
and down my body as he pushed his face into my ass and licked my pucker. His tongue
danced all around the edges, probed the middle, and skipped back out again.
I moaned and pushed back, arching my back.
Trace pushed down on my shoulders, gently forcing my head
down level with his groin. He pointed his cock at my mouth, and I eagerly
licked the precum off, enjoying the sweet taste. Another sizeable drop oozed
out, and I licked it off too. Trace ran his fingers along his cock from the
base to the tip, milking out more precum. I eagerly sucked it all up.
Trace whispered, "You like that, Caleb?"
I nodded. "You taste good, Trace. Really good."
Chuckling, he asked, "You ready to taste some more?"
My only answer was to open my mouth wide.
Trace held his cock down and slowly rubbed the tip along my
lips, from side to side, then gradually inserted the end into my mouth, pushing
along my tongue until the spongey tip touched the back of my throat. He
ever-so-slowly pulled out until the ridge around the cap tickled my top lip,
then slid back in, stopping again when he felt the end of his cock touch the back
of my throat. Once more, slowly out, then slowly back in, this time pushing a
little deeper.
I gagged and coughed. Too deep.
Trace pulled completely out and waited for me to catch my
breath. When I pulled his cock back into my mouth, he took my hands and placed
them on his hips. He put his hands on each side of my face and held my head
while his hips slowly thrust forward, sending his cock sliding inch by inch
into my throat. I held my breath and focused on not gagging this time. Trace
pulled back slightly and slid deeper still, down my throat this time. Back out.
Back in. My throat opened up and accepted his cock as low as he wanted to go. Back
out and quickly in. Faster now. Holding my head and thrusting deeper with each
lunge. Trace pulled out and paused. I felt his cock throbbing on my tongue and
started to suck on the end, but Trace pulled out completely and grabbed his
cock squeezing it to stop the orgasm he'd almost had.
"Not yet," he said, rubbing my cheek with his free hand.
Rick stood up behind me, laughing softly. "Almost lost it,
Trace?"
"Yeah, Dad. Caleb's got a great mouth."
"A nice ass, too," Rick replied, slapping my butt cheek.
The sharp pain reminded me that Rick had been tonguing my
hole the entire time Trace was fucking my throat. I could feel how wet I was
back there and how lose my pucker now was.
Rick moved up behind me and gently rubbed the tip of his
cock up and down my crack, pausing at my hole to press in slightly. I reached
behind me and pulled my butt cheeks apart, opening myself up.
Rick stroked my back and sides. "Are you ready, lover?"
"Yes," I moaned. I was SO ready.
Rick increased the pressure and slid inside me, stretching
my hole and making me gasp. He waited a few seconds, then slowly pushed fully inside.
I closed my eyes and concentrated on the amazing feeling of
my body opening up to accept his wonderful cock. It might be shorter than
Trace's, and not as thick, but the feel of Rick inside me had my legs shaking
and my cock jumping.
I felt a wet, velvet-soft touch on my lips. Opening my eyes,
I saw Trace's throbbing cock with another glob of precum pooling on the tip,
this time with a silvery strand in the midst. I licked it up, delighted to
detect a hint of that bitter aftertaste I knew as Trace's cum. He must be close
now. I opened my mouth and took him.
Trace held my head in both hands and began long, deep
thrusts, forcing his cock down my throat on each stroke. He was soon pounding
my face, smashing my lips into the tight, black curls above his cock. I sucked
air through my nose each time his cock left my throat and held my breath when
he forced himself back in.
Rick matched Trace's speed and power, shoving himself into
my ass so hard his balls slapped against me with each pounding smack. He held
my hips in both hands, holding me steady. Otherwise, I think I might have
fallen down. My legs were shaking and my body was quivering from the assault on
both ends. I felt my cock throbbing and reached down to grab it. I found the
end wet and slippery, oozing out a long string of precum.
Rick sped up.
Trace thrust deeper.
I leaked and leaked and squirted out a glob of what had to
be cum, even though I wasn't jacking off.
Rick shoved against me, hard, and held himself there.
Trace pulled my face against his belly, preventing me from
pulling away, with his cock buried in my throat.
And I shot cum all over the floor. My throat and ass
spasmed. I swallowed and groaned and my body shook.
Rick pulled out slowly. I felt a gush of liquid squeezing
out of my ass. Rick caught it with the tip of his cock, rubbed it on my pucker,
and slid back inside, slowly thrusting again.
Trace slid his cock out of my throat, but I still couldn't
breathe, because I had to swallow the thick globs of cum his cock was now
burping out. Sharp, bitter, manly. I gulped it down, finally had a chance to
take a few breaths, then began sucking on Trace, pulling out every drop
remaining in his thick shaft.
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There were several other unique positions we tried that
night. I surprised myself when I realized I was still awake, gently stroking
Rick's chest while he dozed off with Trace spooned up behind him, gently
snoring.
And I was certain I heard giggling in the hallway again.
The end of Chapter Four of FIGMENT