Date: Sat, 24 Oct 2020 18:06:20 -0400
From: MC VT
Subject: Frisco Saturday Night

Frisco Saturday Night
©MCVT2017  September 22, 2020

Sweet union; sweet reunion on a Saturday night.

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100% Fiction, Adult content, MM, MMM, inc, anal.

...

"Nine-forty-five, dammit." I wiped down, restocked the bins and left the
dim street corner.  Kinda spooky—if there were any people around, they
were enveloped by fog.  Misty voice, but none calling for a latte.

Worked a Saturday for my friend who had a micro coffee cart near the
entrance to Bridge Park.  Hoped to get a leg up on running my own busines
in Castro and finally leave my parent's house.

Almost sold out, then I had to get his pedal-powered cart back to his
apartment; uphill.  That made me late.

...

Strolled into my usual haunt; a few guys turned.  I headed straight for the
end of the bar near the screens playing repeats of the games.  Music was
mellow, conversations loud.  "Usual."  Got my beer, pulled a stool close,
"'Sup, Mick?"

He stocked the cooler, "Nothing, slow night."  I looked around—big ol'
bear in the corner was a brutal fuck, heavy, ordering his bottom like a
slave, treated them like a conquest, pissed on them when he was done.  No
pleasure; my pain was his joke.  Rode the BART home smelling like pee; his
property.  He gave me a smirk and lifted his eyebrows in invitation; I
looked the other way.  He'd have to find another victim.

 Mick leaned over the bar.  "New guy by back door.  Sipping soda for the
last hour."  He winked.

Guy looked around fifteen, Jack carded him, surely.  Geeky face, glasses;
something about him looked familiar.  He had reddish hair, distinctive
rusty color.  Lips were curly, full and slight upward turn at the corners,
deep brown eyes and pale eyebrows and lashes.  Where had I seen that
combination before?  Maybe several years ago...  Nah, not my type but close
enough at at eleven-thirty.

I went over to check out an easy blow, maybe I'd find a nice hard dick to
rub up on.  "Waiting for someone?"  Sat next to him as he shook his head,
immediately his left hand went to my groin, he squeezed a few times,
surprising me.  The kid worked at the speed of light.  Slipped my hand to
his jeans; average and brick-hard.

"You're about right."  His eyes wandered to the ceiling for a while as he
fingered my balls, checking out my full, hard package.  Then he sat back,
took a sip, "Finish your beer, let's go to my place."

Took a long draw, pushed the stein away.  He took me by the arm and briskly
walked me out the back door.

...

Five blocks down, three over, in front of an old three-story stucco
apartment building, he jogged up the stairs.  I pushed upward through
clouds of dinners and incense, Mexican ballads wafted from different
apartments we passed.  Sweet butt ahead of me, glutes flinched, I was
readier by the second.  He kept going full-tilt, wondered if he would be
that fast...

Heard his belt buckle hit the floor almost immediately as he turned and
locked the door behind me and checked his watch.

"On a schedule?"  Was some lover/wife/partner/roommate/cop/dealer were
going to burst in on us?

"Father's coming.  Help me get ready."

Went half-hard hearing that, "Your dad?  What do you mean?"  Started
feeling like a set-up, I broke a hard sweat, ready to leave.

"Fuck me."  He was jeans-free as his knees hit the couch.  Dug his hand
under the cushion and tossed a bottle of lube, leaned over and spread
cheeks.  Immediately the smell of—was that baby powder behind a trace of
musk?  Soft light from the street lamp and a weak light over the stove lit
the small room, "Fuck me.  Hurry."

Grabbed the lube, but before I opened the lid, I reached over made sure the
door was locked.  I'd have time to pull my pants up.

...

Lube cooled on his cleft, glimmered in the low light; my rod was rigid and
dripping.  Shoved, rammed.  The kid was more than tight, "Open up.  You
know."  Loud crack of my slap on his butt startled both of us.  He began
pushing back against me.  Slippery and warm on the tip of my cock.
Pe-ne-tra-tion.  Yes.  Love the feel of the first few moves.

Took another three or four minutes of labor-intensive maneuvers before I
got him where I wanted, rod planted to my balls.  Jewels tingled, tightened
in the cool night air.  Forgot about his daddy business feeling that tight
hole gripping me, began a slow rhythm.

"Hurry and cum!"  Whispered into the back of the sofa.

"Shut up."  I can't perform on command.

Fog crept through the open windows, dampening everything.  His skin was
cool, I grabbed his hips and enjoyed a few slides through his heat.  He
moaned, "Hurry!  Now!"

Frustrated with his demands, "I said shut up, bitch."  I began plowing into
him, hard, harder.  He jerked and gasped with every ram.  Took it all
quietly.  Pushed back for more, then magic.  The kid started tightening
around me, felt like his ass was sucking my jizz.  Two more clenches and he
couldn't stop me.  Kept going, dripping sweat in the humid air as I felt
the first heated rush at the same time a key turned in the lock and the
doorknob turned.

Shoved hard and froze.  My skin prickled with adrenaline.  The door swung
open in the dank, dark room; my cum dribbled, then stopped. Shaft shrunk,
dropped out.

"Dad!"  The boy called out.  "I'm ready."

"Bless your heart, my little lamb." A liver-spotted hand tousled the boy's
hair and turned on the light, blinding the boy and me for a moment.

"Dad!"  That was my father in his collar, coming from late services. "What
the hell?"

His eyes were big as donation plates seeing me, "Didn't expect you."  He
stood, frozen, "Don't say anything to the synod, your mother wants a new
Lexus—I'm leading services at St. Paulus and come by to minister to my
Johnathan.  You remember his mother, the red-head who taught your Sunday
school class?"  He tousled my hair, "Thanks for getting him ready for me.
The old rod isn't what it used to be."

Without missing a move, Dad dropped his drawers, kissed Johnathan, fondled
his balls and began working that loose, dripping ass.  "Make it like last
week."  Johnathan whispered as Dad humped harder, moaning softly and
swiveling his hips.

"You do this every week?"  I watched Dad rutting my step-brother, sweat
glimmered.  Johnathan cooed.

"Hallelujah, yes."  He chuckled.

"Damn."  Demeaning to be a sex toy for their incest—lube producer, hole
stretcher.

"Shoulda been here at Easter, Johnathan brought home this weightlifter,
big, buff Goliath, thought he ruled the universe.  When I walked in, the
coward peed himself and ran.  Imagine, the big lug was scared of an old man
and his son."

Dad started humming a doxological tune, moved his thumbs to rub the boy's
asshole as he slipped through my juice.

There was a lesson in here somewhere, probably biblical, but it was
Saturday night.  Wrapped my arm around my dad, shoved my index finger in my
step-brother's juicy ass alongside a mostly hard shaft.  I leaned, kissed
my Dad's cheek.  "Gimme a ride home?"


End

Frisco Saturday Night