Date: Sat, 26 Jul 2014 10:51:29 +0100 From: Rob Armstrong Subject: Spike's Diaries - Artie's Boys SPIKE'S DIARIES: ARTIE'S BOYS THIS STORY CONTAINS THEMES OF INCEST BETWEEN A GRANDFATHER, HIS SON AND GRANDSON, WATERSPORTS AND DOMINATION. THESE CHARACTERS EXIST IN AN AIDS FREE, CONSEQUENCE FREE, FANTASY PARALLEL UNIVERSE AND ARE NOT TO BE EMULATED. PLEASE SUPPORT NIFTY WITH YOUR DONATIONS AND KEEP THIS INCREDIBLE RESOURCE GOING. NB: See 'Spike's Piercing Parlour' series, November 24th 2012 Top Secret: The following is featured in the research records of Pentagon operatives George 'Doc' Schultz and Carmine 'Spike' Russo, in connection with their ongoing studies of the evermore widespread effects of Formula 51.... Arthur (Artie) Haslett, 64 years old, Wallace, MI (by series of emails) Thursday July 31st Woohoo! Boy, is this old timer beat! I must have slept 10 hours after all the fun and games we had yesterday. Okay. So in the last few days, thanks to my connivance, you could cut the sexual tension between my son and his boy with a blunt butter knife. The gifts of cum-filled underwear I'd been delivering to each one, as if from the other, I'd started to spice up with dried-out piss as well. And as always, neither one had confronted the other about it - if they had, then my dirty little game would have been exposed too soon - but I'd known all along I could rely on my two stubborn, taciturn boys to be unable to make the first move. Thus it fell to me to play ageing, pervy Cupid, so nothing yet had actually happened between them. But brother, that bubble was about to pop! Yesterday was the last day of school for my boys. Brad and Tyler got home shortly after lunch and my son found me stark naked, face down on a sun lounger, sunbathing by the pool. 'Oh, hey son,' I said, pretending embarrassment, 'Gee, I forgot school was out early today! I'll go inside and put some trunks on...' 'Um... that's okay, Dad,' said my son, kind of distracted, staring at my incredibly firm ass. 'You... erm... just lay back and soak up the rays...' ...I couldn't resist flexing my glute muscles a little for him... Then he mumbled something about 'all guys together' and lingered awkwardly for a long moment, trying not to stare at my ass. In ten minutes he was back. That's to say, I could feel him watching me from the doorway onto the deck. Is it my fault that was the moment I felt the need to freshen up the oil on my ass? Reaching back I dribbled the oil slowly... weaving my buns good... working that bottle lazily from side to side... drenching my ass with slow rivulets of oil that ran down over the rounded contours. Then lying back down I reached behind again and gradually worked the oil in with both hands, groping and massaging my own globes... working my hairy backside like I was humping the bed, running a teasing finger up and down my crack... up and down... UP and down... flicking at my pucker... ...sliding my forefinger slowly in and out of my hole a few times... There was an awkward cough at my side. I licked my forefinger and popped it into my mouth, where I sucked at it...'Mmmmm...' I murmured, appreciating the tart taste of my dirty hole... '...thought... might join you, Dad...' my son muttered, and he drew out a lounger so that it stood next to mine. 'Sure, son,' I began, 'you may as well start your vacation as you...' My voice choked off as I glanced up at him and nearly came all over the deck furniture. Brad was naked except for a pair of yellow speedos that were two sizes too small for him. His gorgeous, hairy, musclebear body was presented for all to see. The butt was barely contained and bulged out obscenely - incredibly bold, by Brad's conservative standards. But what almost made me spooge was my son's choice of swimwear... I recognised those speedos from my investigations of Tyler's laundry hamper... Brad had stolen them from his son's room and he was as hard as a rock wearing them, his throbbing sausage thick across the pouch, near spilling out over the drawstring! He was outrageously turned on to be wearing his son's tight speedos. He lay down on his front, like me, but shyly turned his head the other way. My adorable son. A god of a man, yet so unaware of it. I thought he had exhausted his daring but I decided to test him by warning him about the danger of tan lines - I wanted to see if he'd go completely naked. To my delight, Brad went one better. Instead of taking the speedos off all the way, he merely drew the waistband down until it snapped tight under the fold of his delicious muscle ass, exposing his globes somehow more lewdly than full nudity could have achieved... ...they shone in the afternoon sun, oiled and glistening... I had to grind my dick into the sun lounger beneath me for a few moments. It was just as well he had fully oiled up before he came outside, as I might not have been able to resist offering to do it for him. Over the next couple of hours we lay there, shifting around from time to time, of course, and pausing to top-up our oil. I was careful not to lay on my back as I didn't want my raging boner to scare Brad off just yet, at this still-delicate stage... As the afternoon matured into evening, Tyler came down to the kitchen to start prepping the salad - it was his turn to cook - and I could hear the clatter of dishes as he began. Then a louder clatter. Then silence. Thru the kitchen windoww, Tyler had spied us two, bare-ass naked, laying on our stomachs again. I called out, as Brad was pretty incapable just now. 'Everything okay in there, sport?' A pause. 'Erm... sure...' Tyler squeaked. 'Well why doncha come on out here and join us?' 'Erm... I'm... good... get dinner ready...' 'Well how about bringing us two old farts out a coupla beers, then, huh?' Tyler was at our sides with those beers so damn fast I thought he'd turned into the goddamned Roadrunner - thanks to me providing him with the perfect excuse to come out here, of course, and cop a closer look at his naked seniors. 'Thanks, Tyler.' 'Erm... thanks, son.' Tyler lingered after handing us the beer. Feeling wicked I began to weave my hips some, making my ass gyrate. A quick glance to the side and I saw that Brad was doing the same! His hairy buns flexed and dimpled like he was rubbing his dick against the sun bed beneath him, putting on a show for his boy. Tyler's breathing grew short and rapid. Again I helped out. 'Oh, and Tyler - your father's starting to look a little red. Be a pal and oil up his back, wouldja?' Tyler's gulp was audible... as was his father's soft moan. Looking out the corner of my eye, I spied Tyler start at Brad's neck. The boy was wearing no underwear. Only sweats, which tented obscenely at the crotch, and he was bare chested. The boy's powerful shoulders and biceps rippled as his hands glided across the surface of his father's flesh, almost reverently. For his part, Brad couldn't contain another couple of moans. Then Tyler worked his way down his dad's back, beyond my field of vision. There was a pause. When my son's breath hitched, and he involuntarily arched his lower back, thrusting his ass out, I realised that my grandson had taken the plunge and was using the oil as an excuse to grope his father's glorious, muscled glutes... The boy was at it a full ten minutes. The silence between the two of them was a living thing. Then Brad's breathing became more rapid and he began to huff... I didn't want him to climax yet. 'Hey, boy,' I exclaimed, breaking the spell,'how about yer ol' Grampaw? I'm gonna burn too, ya know!' Brad must have cursed me mentally. Tyler coughed a nervous laugh, not noticing I'd referred to myself by the name used in the spanking video. 'Er... sure, Grampaw.' Self-conscious now, Tyler's work on me was brisk and perfunctory. That was fine by me. I needed him and his father at fever pitch when the time arrived. The only time his touch turned slightly sexual was when he worked the oil into my own rear end... Then he muttered something about finishing up in the kitchen. At dinner, the incendiary silence continued and I was content to let it. It was turning out to be a close, sultry evening and the temperatures precluded much in the way of clothing. Tyler was still wearing only his loose sweats, but Brad and I had put on some clothes. Brad's linen shirt was fully open, however, exposing his densely forrested chest and abs - another immodest departure for him - and the cloth was stained with sun oil: he had opted not to shower. He was commando in white running shorts, his dick visibly flopping about when he moved. I wore a simple tank top and roomy board-shorts. All of us were barefoot. This turned out to be crucial as we sat eating at the round kitchen table. Thanks to a regular diet of Yoga and Pilates, I am one flexible old coot, let me tell you. This was something I put to good use now, as I lifted my foot beneath the table and aimed it at Tyler's crotch, angled as if it were coming from his father's direction. I sank my toes into the hot flesh bewteen his legs and ground his dick against the hardwood chair. Tyler's eyes widened as he stared at his plateful of salad. Instantly his bone began to harden and I felt his thighs close together on my foot. He thrust against the bottom of my foot and the cotton fabric of his sweats got damper... damper as his dick started leaking all over the seat. His eyes flicked up at Brad for a moment. A muscle in his leg began to flex and I quickly removed my foot before he could find out it was mine and not his faher's. I knew what he was about to do. Carefuly, so as not to alert me, he raised his own foot and pushed it into his father's crotch, in what he believed to be a returned gesture. Brad jerked in his chair as if goosed. He looked directly across at Tyler and their eyes met. Then his weight shifted slightly in a way that I knew he had started diddling his son also, his foot buried in that hot crevice of teenage flesh and damp cotton. My work was done. Well, practically. As they continued to play footsie, I started chatting airily about vacation plans as if I had no idea what father and son were getting up to under the table. One or the other would nod at me politely, but disctractedly, and then their attention would always return to the other. Electricity flashed between them aross the table, salad forks forgotten on dishes, their faces flushed with the heat of passion... ...their massive chests began to hitch an heave as they got closer... And then I exploded. 'What the fuck is going on here?' I was all Victorian outrage. The two of them immediately retracted their groping feet and regarded me with horror. They were SO busted - they looked so adorably guilty, like two naughty puppies, that I had to fight an urge to hug them. What they needed now was stern discipline. To be dominated. 'Stand up, the pair of you!' I commanded. And for a wonder, they did exactly as I said. They were both still fully hard; Tyler's light coloured sweats were transparent with precum now and Brad's impressive rod had shot out of the left leg of his shorts. I rose from my chair and slowly circled them like a drill sergeant, employing the full force of my experience as a dungeon master now. Their heads were hanging, completely forgetting in their shame that I was an unshockable gay man who did porn, for chrissakes - I'd caught them completely off-balance and I intended to keep them that way. 'Look at you both,' I chided, 'standing there displaying your hardons to each other, like a pair of cheap male whores...' I stopped directly in front of Brad. My voice was quiet and dangerous. 'And YOU! I hope you're ashamed. Seducing our own son into sin. And in the presence of your father! Is that respectful?' 'Well...' my son spluttered, 'well, no, but...' 'No... what? Look at me, boy! No WHAT?' Brad lifted his eyes to me in distress and confusion. Then something in them changed. He became very still. He... understood. 'No SIR,' he replied. My dick started dripping. He hadn't worked out yet exactly how this had come about, but on some primal level my son understood. And accepted. 'Now get yourselves out on that deck,' I ordered. And they got. The evening sun was an orange ball in the sky, painting the poolside a rich amber. 'Now strip,' I told them. 'No - not yourselves. Each other.' In a daze Brad and Tyler each peeled the other out of his clothing, until they both stood before me, stark naked and harder than ever... Meanwhile I had stripped out of my clothing also. Beneath my loose board-shorts I revealed a tight pair of black leather shorts with a bulging, removable codpiece. For the first time at my son's house I was now sporting thick nipple rings and my 0 grade PA crowned the head of my dick, which lurked, barely contained, beneath the crotch flap. I sat on the sun bed which I had been using earlier, leaving my two slaves to stand. From beneath the bed, I withdrew the large leather paddle I had been storing there, which I slapped into my palm. I looked at my son with disgust. 'I hold YOU responsible, ya useless manslut,' I said, subtly making my accent more woodsy. 'Yo're the parent here, after all.' Tyler's breath caught suddenly. He had recognised the dialogue from the incest spanking scene he had watched a million times. His naked dick started to bob up and down of its own accord. I continued with my old script. 'I think mebbe ya need remindin' of yor duties, boy - an' yer ain't too old fer yor daddy to give ya a good ol' fashioned spankin', neither!' By the time my son draped himself across my lap, his dick had begun to drool... It thrust against my firm thigh muscle and smeared it liberally with his juices... ...and at long last I laid hands on my only offspring's delicious upturned rump... His flesh was luscious beneath my kneading palms... silky with hair... firm, springing back into form as I groped each perfect, dimpled globe hungrily... Brad groaned out in pleasure and his dick throbbed against my leg... I worked that ass... pulling those buns apart and inhaling the funky odor that rose up from his sweaty trench... ...Mmmmm... gee, didn't anyone in this house clean themselves properly...? I lubed up a bony forefinger with spit and drilled it deep up my son's chute. He moaned even louder. When I withdrew it, it was dirty. Watching, Tyler made a face of disgust... until I thrust that finger into my mouth and closed my eyes... cleaning it... savoring the flavor... loving the taste of my son's hole... ...and that was when my grandson's dick started to bob again and and his angry looking piss-slit began to drool precum all over the decking... And now it was time for Brad's initiation. I started off light, alternating brisk but easy slaps against each ass cheek, until they began to color up some... I wanted him to enjoy the first few zings of contact... Brad started to hump my leg like a horny rottweiler or two I've known... ...as I built up the heat of my boy's lust. Brad groaned and thrust out his ass for more attention, and then I began spanking in earnest. He cried out, grinding his dick ever harder into my leg... Tyler was unable to resist playing with himself as he watched me wailing on his father's glowing rump. I beckoned him closer with a crooked finger, so he could be more of a part of it... Then I started in with the paddle. The type with holes, of course, to lessen air resistance and increase that sting... WHACK! Brad bellowed, in genuine distress this time... WHACK! 'Dad... pleeeease....' WHACK! 'Unhhh... Dad... enough...' 'What did ya call me, boy?' WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! He was bawling real tears by now... 'SIR! Sir.... pleeeeease....' 'Shuddup, boy, and tek it like a man...' WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! 'Auuuuwww...!' he wailed. WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! Tyler's fist was a blur on his dick... A good master always knows his slave's limits and Brad, a novice, had no idea how much I was holding back! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! 'Aaaargh.... ahhhh.... oooooh....' My son began to coo in pleasure as his pain receptors made the adjustment... WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! Suddenly he bucked up and down on my lap and I felt a gush of hot sperm flood my thigh... Tyler shot that same instant and coated his father's burning globes with ropes of fresh boy spunk... My cock railed against the barrier of the leather codpiece, demanding release, but I am first my own master and it was not yet time. Brad's breathing was a while coming back down to earth, but Tyler recovered faster. 'Git down there and clean up the mess yor father made of ma leg,' I commanded him. Tyler looked around and picked up a handy towel. 'Not with that, boy,' I forestalled him, 'with yor TONGUE...' Tyler's bone shot up, still moist at the tip from his last load. Seventeen, huh? Obediently he got down on all fours... now THAT was a position he was gonig to have top get used to... and got to work. Words cannot describe the sensation of your grandson's tongue on your leg and groin, as it laps up the load his father has just spilled upon them... Brad groaned when Tyler's questing tongue made contact with the tip of his dick, laving the smegma off of the head... Understandably the boy lingered there a while, lapping at his father's slit, causing the organ that made him to flex and reawaken... I didn't want Tyler blowing his father's rod just yet... he had other duties to perform. 'Now git up here and clean yor own cum offa yor father's ass,' I ordered. Brad moaned at the mere suggestion. His dick was recovering fast. Again, my grandson went to it with gusto. I grabbed his hair at the scruff of his neck and guided him around his father's curves. His tongue strained to swipe up each trace of semen until he had swallowed every drop. 'That's it, son,' I urged, more softly now... more like my usual self... 'Go on washing your father's ass... yeaaaahhh...it needs a good cooling down.' The heat of his father's flesh, post punishment, did not really lessen beneath Tyler's atentions, but they were both clearly enjoying it. 'Oooooh, son, yeeeeah, that's good...' Nyaaa... slurp... lick... nyaaa... nyaaa... nyaaa... 'Aaaahhh... mannnn, yeaaaahhh...' I let this continue, gradually working my grandson's head nearer and nearer to his father's crack. Tyler ran his tongue up and down the length of Brad's channel. But when I pulled the buns apart for him to tongue his father's hole... 'Ooooohhhh yeaaaahhh...' my son cooed in anticipation... ...Tyler caught a whiff of his father's funk and pulled back instinctively. I was merciless, pushing his head back in and grinding it against his dad's dirty taint. 'Nawwww, Daddd...' my son slurred half-heartedly, 'don' make the boy... lemme shower first, I'm all dirty back there...' Still Tyler shook his head from side to side, refusing to rim him. I'd been prepared for this. I yanked his head back out of there and, with my free hand, I brought up a bottle of poppers I'd secreted earlier and uncapped it, one-handed, with a practiced flick of finger and thumb. There ain't nothing like poppers to get a boy all slutted up, I'm here to tell ya! Tyler squeaked with surprise when I held that little brown phial under his nose... a few good, forced inhalations and his face began to flush with passion... He was good to go. I thrust his face back down onto his father's hole just as the rush hit the boy for the first time ever... He was an animal. 'UNGHHH!' Brad cried out in joy as his son rammed his tongue up against his filthy hole, practically sucking his father's shitty anus into his mouth as his tongue-tip swirled and pushed at the crusty starfish like a battering ram. 'Thassit, boy!' I encouraged him, 'Eat yor father out! Taste yor Daddy's shit... Yor gonna learn tuh LOVE IT! Eat that dirty hole and lick him clean...' SLURP! LICK! LICCCCCK.... THLUUUURP!' 'Yeah, tongue thet cunt good, boy... geddit all sloppy fer Grampaw!' And then Brad gasped. Tyler was in! 'Aaaaarghhh...' my son moaned in ecstasy at this first ever intrusion of his back door... ' Aaaarghhh....' MNOMMMM...NOM...NOM...NOM....NOM! Tyler was insatiable, even though the poppers must have worn off by now. To Brad's disappoiintment, I hauled my grandson's head up for air and I thrust my tongue in the boy's mouth. Tyler frenched me with as much enthusiasm as he'd eaten out his father... the taste of whose hole we now swapped back and forth... As Tyler rose up from his knees, his rampant dick was vaccuumed into his father's mouth. I held the boy tight in my arms. He writhed as tongues lashed at him inside and out. Brad couldn't contain his boy's load when Tyler finally gushed. Much of it spilled out the sides of his guzzling mouth and onto the decking, joining the generous streams of precum which had not soaked in yet. I released Tyler and he sprawled backwards onto his rear. And now it was my turn. I spilled Brad off my lap and released my aching monster. I picked him back up again by the hips. With the good aim that comes of practice, I impaled him on my dick and bent him forward so I could fuck him doggy style. Fully breached, Brad screamed in pain. Only the thorough tonguing and copious amounts of saliva his son had provided made it bearable at all, and it would be a good while before he'd get used to it. Meanwhile I commanded my son to lick up his own son's spilled load and precum. The sight of his dad swabbing the deck with his tongue, bent double and being brutally dicked by his grandfather, sent Tyler's dick straight back up again. 'Give... give him yor ass, boy...' I huffed, as I instructed Tyler. I waggled my tongue at him, and he then understood my meaning. Tyler went back to all fours, turned round and backed his hole onto his father's mouth. There was no hesitation with Brad. He got chowing down on his son's shitchute and returned the earlier favor. The sight was too much. I roared as I unloaded inside my son. I slammed my hips into his firm ass as I jetted stream after stream of Daddy-juice. I slammed right back down on that sun lounger, satisfied but breathless - I may have the stamina of a man twenty years my junior, but it sure ain't what it was! I sat back instead to enjoy the slutty show of incest before me. Brad hadn't missed a beat. As soon as I released him, he was on top of Tyler, that magnificent rump working as his dick found his son's cunt and plunged it up inside him, destroying his cherry. Tyler's asshole was not amused. I struggled to my feet and went to the boy's rescue with the poppers. In no time at all, Tyler and his father were moaning and groaning in perfect harmony as the ass breeding grew frenzied in pace. Brad practically drilled his son into the deck, grinding and gyrating that ass which was still pink from its assault earlier. At last he bellowed his release, and rabbit fucked his load deep inside Tyler. I had one last instruction for my boys. 'Don't pull out yet, son,' I told Brad. Brad grinned. 'Not planning to, Dad. But sooner or later I gotta go take a piss...' Ah, still so green! In answer I administered yet more poppers to both of them and then rose to my feet. I stood over the pair of them and held my semi-hardon in both hands. Tyler guessed what was coming. He began to huff and puff in excitement and his mouth hung open. I let fly my piss, just as their popper-rush kicked in. Like the pair of piss-and-cumsluts I had made them, my boys tilted their heads back and drank deep, even swapping my fluids back and forth from mouth to mouth as they frenched hungrily. Still lodged up inside Tyler, Brad gave his son a piss colonic and they carried on kising as my last drops expired. Phew. So that's my latest entry, fellas. Ryan will be home tomorrow. The boys have been fretting some about how that's going to change things, so soon after them discovering mansex and incest with each other. But I've told them not to worry. Just act natural. Grampaw's on it. He he he he... EMAIL ENDS. AWAITING FURTHER DEBRIEF FROM OPERATIVE.