Date: Tue, 18 Sep 2012 08:01:56 +0000
From: calamity123@fido.blackberry.com
Subject: The Prisoners Conjugal

The following story deals with father/son incest. If this is not a part of
your fantasy life please seek other stories in the Nifty Archive.
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My name is Rob, Canadian, 46, and I can be reached at:
Calamity123@fido.blackberry.com


The Prisoners Conjugal

Paul was ushered into the windowless room. He watched as the grim-faced
guard disappeared behind the door that was locked with a heavy clink.
Looking about the stone walled cabin his eyes surveyed a double bed with
freshly laundered sheets, a table beside that held a lamp, ashtray, fresh
pack of smokes and lighter. There was also a couple of club chairs one of
which groaned as he sat. His portfolio was placed on the table between as
he stared at the door.

    And waited.

Luke was called up from the lunch room by his number. As prisoners stared
he was led away flanked on either side by guards. Footsteps echoed until he
was in the wardens office. He paused knowing it was pointless to question
the reason why he was here.
    "You have a visitor", the warden said not looking up from his
paperwork. "Your son. He's a lawyer now. Guess he thinks you didn't get a
fair shake or that the system is corrupt". Smirking the warden now graced
him with a glance. "Or maybe you're just innocent", he sneered. He dared
for a reply but none came. "A lawyer has the expectation of privacy with
his client so we've set him up in the 'trailer'". Trailer was the word for
the four windowless stone cottages adjacent to the penitentary. These were
used for conjugal visits. "Maybe you'll fuck him over like the system
fucked you over, hunh?"

Pauls attention was riveted to the clanking of keys and locks. The door
swung inward as a guard stepped in first followed by his handcuffed father
and then another guard.
    As father and son sized each other up Lukes cuffs were undone.
    Paul noted: he's older than I remember. Hardened. Cold green eyes. Hair
still dark but greying at the temples. A tattoo on his right forearm and a
sleeve of tats on the other. The looseness of the orange jumpsuit could not
disguise the power within. Hard muscles. But a meanness about
him. Wary. Cautious.
    Luke observed: the only good thing I ever did. Handsome. Must beat them
off with a stick. Could do with a few trips to the gymn. Older. What is he
now 23, 24? No. If I'm 48 he'd have to be 26. And a lawyer. Fuck. Well,
leastways he's not a cop.
    The guards left.
    And for the first time in 15 years father and son were alone.
    Luke glanced about the unfamiliar room then back at his son. "So?"
    Paul hesitated.
    "Do we shake hands or hug?"
    Paul sat back into the chair gathering up his portfolio. As he fished
out papers he said, "I'm looking into your trial. My boss says that there
is evidence that wasn't presented properly and, of course, there's now the
advent of DNA which was never properly tested. I'll need some of yours. I
want to go over the disparity in your statements between what was said to
the police, the prosecutor and then at your trial". Paul looked up to see
his father at the far end of the bed lighting a Camel.
    Luke blew the smoke free with deliberate disdain. "Not even a 'how's it
going, pop'. Just the facts, hmm". He took another drag muttering a bitter
"nice" mostly to himself.
    They looked at each other.
    "I missed your growing up", Luke mumbled.
    "I grew up the day they took you out in handcuffs".
    Luke glared. "So it's like that, is it. Go home". He began to head
towards the door.
    Paul stood. "No".
    They were now feet apart from each other. Both staring; assessing the
other.
    "What do you want from me?"
    Paul looked at the cruel stare and saw something he hadn't expected:
vulnerability. He took a step forward. There was so much left undone
suspended between them but still he hesitated.
    Luke however was unused to hesitation. Two steps forward and he pulled
the man into his arms.
    Father met son met father. Arms bear-hugged with ferocity. Eyes shut
tears from falling. Noses nuzzled necks.
    One moment passed.
    Then two.
    Three.
    Neither would let go.
    Luke inhaled the gentle cologne as Paul experienced the clean scent of
hard soap. Chest to chest, hips to hips, arms enfolding. Hardened father
aware he was hardening. Son losing awareness of his marriage vows. Man to
man.
    Luke relaxed his hug which caused Paul to hold faster. Tighter.
    "Son?"
    Paul whispered. "Don't let go, daddy".
    Luke heard the plea. "I'll never let go. Not ever". And he tightened
the hug. But after a couple of moments he chuckled. "Must be the
cologne. I'm not used to it".
    "Hmmm?"
    "Don't be offended".
    Paul whispered, "About what?"
    Luke chuckled again. "I'm hard".
    His son pulled back smiling into the mirthful eyes. "Me, too".
    "Oh yeah?". Luke reached down patting his sons crotch. Then he squeezed
with more purpose discovering his sons shape. "Not bad, son. Not bad at
all".
    Paul closed his eyes. The smile remained.
    The fly of the dress pants was lowered as father fingered open and slid
over the cotton briefs. The digits traced the shape of the straining cock
finding the hard veins and the ridge of the knob. Then the fingers down
down over the balls as the hand cupped the full package.
    Paul revelled in each gentle squeeze. And as his fathers free hand
found the back of his head he was not surprised to find the tough mans lips
on his. His own parted as his hands slid down the orange to cup the butt
cheeks.
    Rough tongue met gentle tongue. Father and son explored.
    Luke pulled back before lowering to his haunches. Beefy fingers pulled
loose the belt and fumbled free the clasp. The pants weighted by the heavy
buckle fell away. Hands on hips Luke fingered the waist band of the briefs.
Scooping the front he watched the cock plop free. Thick and veiny with a
smooth purple knob the prick bounced in anticipation.
    Luke grabbed for the ears. Secured he thrust his hips forward as he was
sucked into his fathers mouth. Head back. Eyes closed. All sensation honed
into his crotch. Sucking mouth became his new fuck hole.
    Bracing his hands on the thighs for leverage Luke sucked ravenously.
The beauty of his sons cock, the thrusting of man hips and the sleeve of
his tongue spurred him on. Sucking. Devouring. Hard prick. Son cock.
Fucking mouth. Hard. Determined relentless. He gasped when he could to pull
in air. The cock was a piston of insatiable force.
    His knees hit the floor. Luke reached up toying with the hairy balls.
Rubbing. Pulling the sac. Squeezing. Gently at first. Then harder. Pain.
The cock moving in fury. The pain causing low moans. The fuck faster. Balls
hitting chin. Luke groaning to match his sons. Fucking mouth. Sucking
mouth. Sucking. Sucking.
    Paul gave a hard snort. Then groaned low and deep. "Aww, fuck,
daddy. Cumming. Cumming! Fuck!"
    The tide rolled in. Spurting deep into his throat. Cum waves. Gobs and
gobs. Seeding his throat. Luke swallowing. Sucking relentlessly. Fingers
digging into ass cheeks. His son could not pull away. The cock throbbed as
it spasmed its precious load. Sucking in. Swallowing each blob. Torturing
with pleasure.
    The lawyer stopped. The hips were still. Luke sucked back and forth
slowly causing remnant shudders. Then the cock was released.
    Luke stood. Clasping his sons face he exhaled allowing Paul to smell
his private scent. "Get your fucking ass on the bed, boy", he growled
lowly. "I'm gonna fuckin' open that shitter of yours".
    Paul waddled to the bed, pants cuffing his ankles. Falling forward he
crawled up the mattress so his head set face down between the two pillows.
He heard the bear undress then the shift of weight as he found the bed. A
pillow was pulled away. Hips were lifted as the pillow was slid under
giving cushion to his leaking prick.
    Luke slid up the suit jacket revealing the beefy hairy globes. Without
hesitation he dove in. Face in crack the tongue began its search.
    Paul groaned. The tongue wormed the asshole. Hands squeezed his cheeks
hard as breath echoed along his valley. But it was the tongue that was a
wonder. Lapping. Licking. Poking. Drilling. Slobbering. It was a muscle on
fire. Hungry for hole. Needing. Cheeks were roughly stretched apart as the
face shoved in. The tongue devouring the centre of Paul. Breath rapid: his
own, his fathers.
    Then air.
    Mattress shifting.
    Warm thighs on either side of Pauls'.
    Cock.
    Knob at the hole.
    A push.
    Hard.
    In.
    Knob inside.
    Luke thrust forward. Hard. In. Full-length. Fat fuck pole in tight
hole. Prisoner in lawyer. Father in son. He fell on top. Hands gripping
shoulder pads. Lips to ear. "Now you're gonna get the fuck of your life,
fucker!"
    Paul squealed unexpectedly. The fuck was furious. Pounding. Fat
impossible fuck stick. Fucking deep. Then up. Then deep. Hard. So hard.
Paul tried to pull away. Needing escape. Held down. Gripped. Pounding.
Fucking. His ass wanting relief. Begging to be empty. And wanting more.
"Harder, daddy. Fuck me. Fuck me", he groaned.
    "Yeah, I'm fucking you, bitch. Fucking you like the cock-whore you
are!"
     The mattress bounced as the springs squeaked. Harder. Harder. The cock
fucked the loosening hole. Fucking rough. The bodies bounced with each
downward thrust. Moving up the bed. Pauls head hitting the wall.
    "Oh, fuck me, daddy. Fuck. Fuck".
    "Here it is, bitch! Take my fucking load. Beg for it!"
    "Oh, yes", Paul gasped. "Fuck me. Make me your whore. Fuck my shitter.
Oh, daddy, cum. Cum inside me. Seed my fucking bitch-hole. Cum!"
    What had been hard and rough now became furious. The cock
piston-whipped the asshole. An arse of cock. Poled into submission. Owned.
Conquered. Staked.
    Luke let out a growl that emanated from his balls. Low. Gutteral.
Animal.
    Then cock exploded.
    In the pumping tempest the cock threw up its steaming strings of man
juice. Filling the bitch-hole. Seeding. Wave after spurting wave.
Explosion.
    Then.
    Peace.
    Luke was still.
    But for only a moment.
    With unexpected force Paul was suddenly empty. The hole throbbed.
Unawares. Gaping. He felt light as his fathers weight disappeared. And as
he found his new reality he looked over to catch sight of the bear zipping
up the front of his jumpsuit.
    Luke walked back and slapped his sons ass hard. "Okay, fucker, tell me
about my case".