This story is dedicated to my hot email pal, Ryan the bubble butt lover. It is composed by me from a series of emails I first sent to him for his thong-loving big assed pleasure. Now I want the rest of MMSA Stories readers to enjoy it and to know that ultimately they have this horny young buttlover and his intense desires to thank.
Ryan saunters into the house, letting the screen door slam behind him. As usual his headphones are blocking out the voices and other sounds of his family home as he makes his way thru the obstacle course from front door to the safety of his room. But today something is a bit off, and it worries Ryan. The song playing by chance is 'Fred Jones,' the quietest cut on Ben Fold's 'Rockin'the Suburbs,' yet Ryan can't even hear any muffled din from his family beneath it. It strikes him, as he approaches the foot of the stairs, that his mom's car might not have been in the driveway. A half hour before dinnertime and his mom isn't there? Odd.
As he passes thru where he is most vulnerable to being sidetracked by parents and siblings--the open doorway of the kitchen dining room--Ryan catches a rare sight out of the corner of his eye and stops dead in his tracks to do a doubletake.
Leaning back in a dining room chair with his black-stockinged feet up on the table and crossed is Ryan's dad, Al, reading the New York Times in his striped work shirt, black tie and a pair of white boxer shorts. In one hand he has a martini (not his first, either, judging from the empty glass pitcher on the table). With his dad's well-formed and somewhat hairy legs on display in the family dining room, Ryan is now certain that his mom and sisters are not at home. "With the Girls away, the boys can play," Ryan remembers his dad saying to him once.
Al catches sight of his son staring in at him from the hall, and says, "Ah, you're finally home." Ryan can't hear a word, but he's watching his lips and knows exactly what he's said. Al puts down the paper and martini, gets up from the table and strides sternly towards his son. Even without his pants on and with that dead serious look in his eyes, Ryan's dad has an impressive natural swagger that sends thrills up Ryan's spine every time he sees it.
Ben Folds and some other guy are harmonizing in Ryan's ear: "...and I'm sorry...Mr. Jones....it's....time...." And Ryan knows that it's true. Al pulls Ryan's headphones off his burning ears with one swift motion and deposits them on the all table. "I've sent your mother and the girls to the mall for the evening so we can settle our business without interrruptions," Al says, his big brown eyes extra huge with determination. "Now get up to your room!"
"Yes Sir," Ryan answers, hurrying suddenly up the stairs, half from submissiveness and half from the embarassment of having thrown a rod in his pants. His Dad is not only hot, but hot on his heels as he mounts the stairs mere inches behind him, and Ryan can feel the heat from his body and smell the mix of aftershave and martini, and just about feel the scratch of his Dad's five o'clock shadow on the back of his neck. Ryan thinks back and tries to remember exactly how old he was when he became too embarassed to kiss his dad goodnight at bedtime. He's never forgotten the sensational feel of that sandpapery, fatherly jaw under his boyish lips.
"No, wait," says his dad as Ryan reaches, trembling, for the doorknob of his room. "Go get them from my room first and bring them to me in here," he orders his son, passing by him to enter Ryan's inner sanctum alone. Ryan's natural inclination is to play dumb, and he almost asks his dad, "bring WHAT?", but thinks better of it. Nevertheless, his dad detects Ryan's hesitation and barks, "They're in my briefcase, exactly where you first found them while snooping last week. Bring 'em NOW!"
Red faced and almost panting with excitement and humiliation, Ryan follows his Dad's orders into his parents' bedroom, where he normally has NO BUSINESS being, and once again finds the unlocked briefcase laying flat on the top shelf of his dad's oaken wardrobe. From a small compartment beneath a stack of files and papers, Ryan pulls out the lavender pair of lacey thong panties in question.
The thought of the humiliation of a man having to wear these girly things stiffens Ryan's _c_o_c_k_ to full mast as he carries them daintily back to his own room, holding them between his thumb and forefinger by the narrowest strip of ruffled lavender elastic. He marvels at the contrast between the type of underwear his dad is wearing today and these scanty, skimpy things, which apparently over 20 years ago under some unclear circumstances, Grandpa had tricked Al into putting on and getting spanked in them.
Back in his own room, Ryan approaches his father, who sits on the edge of the boy's sloppily made bed, his knees apart and the loose, buttonless fly of his white cotton boxers gaping open a good inch or two to reveal dense, dark brown bush, a heavy, hairy, left nut, and a glimpse of thick _c_o_c_k_shaft. Though his dad loves to sit around at home with his pants off, and his mom is constantly complaining to him to finish dressing, Ryan has almost NEVER seen his dad wearing boxers. He knows from overhearing his Dad's drinking buddies talk that the guys usually only wear boxers to show off the line of their dicks through their dress pants when interviewing new office staff or breaking in new secretaries. But what was the ocassion tonight?
Most often, as in the first of the three terrific photos Ryan recently found hidden in one of his mom's drawers, Ryan's dad lounges around in his breifs. Ryan figures his mom must have taken these polaroids herself, long before there were any teen or preteen girls around the house to be protective over. The first shot shows Al at his desk in his study without his pants, grinning shamelessly with his arms behind his head and his dark blue stockinged feet up on the desk. The meaty underside of AL's thighs and the curves of his buttcheeks are nicely set off by the plain white briefs. The other two shots are more intense and overtly _s_e_x_ual, with Al's big brown eyes looking straight at the camera, and his huge, stiff rod firmly in his own grip. His tie and shirt are undone in both shots, showing off his big, hairy chest. It took weeks before Ryan could look straight at those two photos of his own dad's raw _s_e_x_uality without feeling queasy, but now he even has them scanned and saved on his computer hard drive and has even proudly distributed them on the internet (anonymously, of course).
So it's a little puzzling to Ryan why his dad has chosen boxers tonight for his punishment. But the small mystery of specific style does nothing to diminish the huge gratification Ryan feels that his dad has managed to come up with an unselfconscious excuse--after-work lounging without his pants--for both men to be in their underwear when the spanking begins.
"Thank you, son," Al says solemnly, as he takes the frilly panties from Ryan and holds them up by the side elastic bands to show off their shape. They're so shear and make such a tiny triangle of material when stretched between his father's big fingers that Ryan has trouble believing that his dad could have ever gotten his big meaty ass and full crotch into them.
"Son," he begins, leaving Ryan to stand before him, "I've listened to you dismiss this delicate pair of thong panties as WOMEN's UNDERWEAR and a turn off to you. This cheap, selfish, misguided and misinformed view of yours has to be countered and corrected. You have already been spanked for snooping and finding them, and for stealing and wearing a pair of my blue bikini briefs, but tonight you're going to get spanked for a far more serious reason than your acting out of some mere youthful _s_e_x_ual fetishes."
"These beautiful lacey panties may look like frilly nothings, but in fact they have been strong enough to hold your parents' marriage and even this family together for more than twenty years. I carry them with me every day in case I need a reminder of the dreadful wrong I committed against your mother in the very beginning of our marriage, and....in case..." Al pauses a bit awkwardly, "...in case your grandfather should ever have any further business to attend to with me."
Ryan involuntarily smirks at this, but immediately regrets it when he sees his dad's big brown eyes widen. The harshness of his punishment will surely increase!
"Nevertheless, your Grandfather hasn't needed to correct my behavior for some years. But before you were born, I began a sleazy love affair with a girl at the office, and your mother found out about it in exactly the same circumstances as your discovery: by looking through my briefcase and finding a strange pair of panties. Your mother went tearfully to my father for help, and he came up with a clever plan to teach me a lesson I'd never forget. Between the two of them they figured out who I was screwing, confronted her with her panties, and got her to agree to stop seeing me, but not before (reluctantly) helping them set their plan in motion."
"My girlfriend then asked me next time we were together if I knew where this particular pair of panties had gone, and I sheepishly admitted having taken them so I couyld keep them in the briefcase and take whiffs of her pussy scent whenever I wanted to, and she laughed and said she'd suspected as much. But then she demanded them back. I went to the briefcase to retreive them and found to my horror that they were missing. She asked what the matter was (knowing full well) as I stood there pissing submissive drops of pee into my pants at the thought of what your mother would do to me if SHE'D found them. I just told her I must have left them in the other breifcase, and she said, "That's alright," she cooed, "but to make up for my loss, you'll have to me a new pair--exactly the style I want, and wrapped up and presented to me in exactly the way I tell you. Okay?"
"Sure, baby!" I agreed readily, relieved that she wasn't pissed off at me, and I was thinking maybe even she was the one who had found and swiped the panties herself. But I wasn't about to confront or question her about it, knowing what was probably good for me to get out of this potentially serious mess. So I listened to her describe this lovely little shear, lacey pair of lavender thong panties she'd seen at Victoria's Secret, and instructed me to buy them for her as a replacement. This all seemed like a great erotic pleasure, and I was looking forward to it, until she got to the part about wrapping and presentation.
"The saleswoman will assume you want them wrapped in the cute little pink boxes they have for loverboys bringing their squeezes hot pairs of _f_u_c_k_-me panties, but I insist that you tell her 'No, just give them to me unwrapped.' I want you to wrap them yourself, Al," she smiled sweetly at me. "So immediately after she hands you the panties, put them in your jacket pocket and ask her where the nearest public restroom is. She'll smirk and direct you to the mall restrooms or even direct you to the uni_s_e_x_ restroom inside the store. Either way, I want her to know EXACTLY what you're going to do with the panties."
"Aw, c'mon, baby," I whined, my face deep red from contemplating the embarassment, "She's not gonna think I'm wrapping them myself, but that I'm gonna PUT 'EM ON!"
"That's EXACTLY what you're gonna do, Al, you big panty sniffing perv!" my little bitch girlfriend replied. "That night when you come over to give me my little present, I'm gonna 'unwrap' it just like this," she said, reaching for my belt buckle and fly and undoing them quickly. I went five shades deeper red and protested this plan, but by that time she literally had me by the balls--and _c_o_c_k_--and started giving me some of her amazing head. And just before shooting a huge wad of jizz down her throat (for the last time, it turned out) I found myself agreeing to the whole thing.
"It made sense for me to buy the panties on my lunch hour," Al continues, "so after the humiliating interaction with the sales girl (who INSISTED I use the shop's restroom) I went off to 'wrap' my girlfriend's present."
Ryan smirks again, so his dad decides to wipe the smirk off his son's face for good. "Son, I think it's important that you understand EXACTLY how humiliating it felt to have to put on this lacey, tiny pair of women's thong panties. Go to the bathroom and put them on. NOW!"
Ryan starts to protest, but his father gives him a look of such threatening determination that he quickly dashes off to put the skimpy panties on. It IS humilating, he finds, to have to watch himself in all those mirrors, stripping just to put on such a girly little bit of cloth, and has a devil of a time just getting his big round ass cheeks through the elastic and can hardly contain his throbbing _c_o_c_k_ and balls within the front panel. They feel very strange on under his pants once he's pulled them back up, zipped his fly and buckled his belt.
Ryan's dad doesn't fail to notice the hardon tenting the front of his son's pants from having put on the purple thong. He continues his story.
"You'll only be wearing those for a short time, son, but I was forced to spend the entire latter half of my workday in the office with those skimpy things on under my dress pants. At first it was embarrassing and uncomfortable, but by the five o'clock the _s_e_x_y attention the thong had been calling to my crotch and ass crack made me extra horny. It didn't hurt also that I was looking forward to the unwrapping my girl friend was going to perform."
"Imagine my humiliation, Ryan, when I walked in to her apartment and found my own father in bed with my girlfriend! He had on his favorite fedora, a white sleevless undershirt, white boxer shorts and black socks. She was in her negligee, but it was clear that she had let him _f_u_c_k_ her, cause you could even SMELL it. My mother had been dead for two years and my dad was only 45 at the time, so it wasn't grotesque or particularly immoral for them to be together, but it sure was a kick in the nuts to me and my manhood. I was speechless, so your grandpa did all the talking. He sent my girlfriend out of the house so he could take care of business with me--just like the business that you and I are about to attend to tonight!"
"My dad started with the verbal shaming and abuse that he knew would punch my buttons, pacing around the room and puffing on his cigar. At first it was such a barage that it distracted me for a long time from the exquisitely embarassing nature of my situation. It wasn't til he sat down on the edge of the bed--the way I'm sitting now--and ordered me to drop my pants and get over his knees for a spanking, that I remembered what I was wearing under my pants. Ulp! Oh _f_u_c_k_, I thought to myself, had I ever been screwed over!'
Ryan stifles a laugh, but his dad doesn't seem to mind this time. It WAS pretty _f_u_c_k_ing funny, after all.
"Well, you know what your grandfather is like, so it wasn't more than a minute before he had my pants down around my ankles...." at which point Ryan's dad snaps his big fingers and indicates to his son to stand up and drop HIS pants.
Ryan complies, red-faced and knock kneed, and his dad laughs heartily at the sight of his plump-assed son in girly lavender lace panties.
"Your grandpa laughed out loud, too, at the sight of ME in those lacey panties, and MY dick was sticking straight up under that mesh front panel just like YOURS, and my balls were squeezing out the sides, too." He tilts back his head and laughs again, making Ryan blush scarlet and try to hide himself with his hands. But with this skimpy thong, it's USELESS. The poor boys ass feels like a pair of goodyear blimps in this thing, and couldn't be hidden if he tried. "They're not panties, they're...." Ryan begins, but stops dead at his own words with embarassment and confusion. Al chuckles again, affectionately at his thong-loving son's automatic defensive error, which speaks volumes about how constantly the boy has had to defend his favorite underwear to the guys in the locker room. "Actually, Ryan, they ARE girl's panties you're wearing--I know, 'cause I bought 'em myself, AND had to wear 'em myself, too. Don't worry son, it'll be our little secret!"
Grinning broadly, Al continues with his story.
"I tried to pull them down, but he barked at me to leave them up, and before I knew it he had me across his lap, with my huge round ass mellons rolling in the air, divided by that thin stip of purple silk riding up my big buttcrack."
With these words, Ryan's dad manhandles his son into position across his lap. Ryan's a big boy in more ways than one, and Al has to carefully adjust his own jutting dad_c_o_c_k_ to keep it from getting crushed between his hairy thigh and Ryan's smooth naked hip. Ryan's own swollen _c_o_c_k_ is still held in place by the lacey front panel of the thong, now pressed across his dad's other thigh. Suddenly, after a few preliminary squeezes of his son's ample butt cheeks, Al fires three or four quick sharp slaps across Ryan's ass with his bare palms, and the SPANKING BEGINS!
SMACCKKKKKKKKKKKKK! SMACKKKKKKK!!!!! SMMAAAACCCCKKKKK! SMACCKKKKKK!
"Ow! Dad, that hurts! Stop! OWWWWWW! Dad, Jesus, that smarts! Ouch!" Ryan struggles and protests.
"Your grandpa got a BIG kick out of spanking my cheatin' ass in this little purple thing, and tonight I'm finding out just what all the fun was about. While he spanked me he explained why my actions deserved all this deception, cuckholding, betrayal and butt butting that he pulled on me. Of course he was absolutely in the right, even if he got some free pussy out of the deal--at my expense! I whined and cried and struggled, sort of like you're doing, Ryan, but I knew I deserved it, and in a strange way it actually began to, uh, turn me on that my OWN DAD had screwed my girlfriend just before taking her away from me for good, and was NOW spanking me for having cheated on my wife with the very same woman! I was wearing my shame in the form of a sluttly little purple panty thong, and it was humiliating as HELL.....and it was kinda hot, too."
Ryan listens as he blubbers and struggles under the smarting spanky smacks of his dad's firm hands on his reddening ass. It IS humiliating and HOT.
SMACCKKKKKKKKKKKKK! SMACKKKKKKK!!!!! SMMAAAACCCCKKKKK! SMACCKKKKKK!
"My _c_o_c_k_ got harder and harder under that lace, as it jammed again and again against my dad's thigh and even against his stiff _c_o_c_k_," Al confesses, pausing in his spanking to rub Ryan's burning butt cheeks. "Can you feel the same thing happening to OUR _c_o_c_k_s, son?"
Ryan's face goes double crimson at his dad's embarassing question, and can only bring himself to nod vigrously.
"Good. Now lift your hips," Al orders, at which point he peels the purple thong down off of his son's ripe, red ass globes and unleashes his son's raging _c_o_c_k_ from its lacey prison, and leaves the thin purple tankle of silk and mesh around Ryan's trembling knees. Ryan's big butt is COMPLETELY bare, and his throbbing _c_o_c_k_ and bulging balls free to roam over the hot, sweaty and hairy surfaces of his dad's big, muscular thighs. He gasps to feel his naked meatpole rub right alongside his dad's _f_u_c_k_stick, with just the thin white cotton of the boxers remaining between father and son's hard dicks. Suddenly, the resumption of spanking shocks him out of his dirty thoughts.
SMMMMAAAAAACKKKKKK!!!!!!! CRACKKKKKKKK!!!!!!! SMMMAAACKKKKKK!!! CRACKKKKK!!
"OW! _f_u_c_k_! Dad! Pleeeeassee STOPPP!!! OW!!! OW!!!!!" Ryan pleads, his bare ass stinging madly from the pain, but hopeless that his dad will relent. He struggles across his dad's lap and feels his spongey mushroom dickhead drive repeatedly against the white cotton covering the spot where Al's upper thigh meets his groin.
"Your grandpa wasn't about to let a couple of hardons keep a deserving brat from getting his a bad ass spanked raw and red, so neither will I, Ryan." Al puffs, in between hard swats of his palm against his son's naked butt cheeks.
"In fact my dad figured our stiff jutting _c_o_c_k_s could teach me a further lesson about how one man's actions can ultimately affect another's--a lesson that brought us closer together than ever before, and one which I'll never forget."
"YEOW! Teach me, dad! OW!!" Ryan begs, struggling across his dad's lap to try to avoid the spanks "OW!!! teach me the.....OUCH!...lesson grandpa taught you....YEOW!!!" Ryan wants something--anything--to happen to distract him from the pain of his smarting ass, and his eagerness is also driven by a passion to get REAL close to his own dad.
"Are you SURE, Ryan?" Al pauses in mid spank. "It's another kind of lesson altogether."
"Yes, dad. Teach me," gasps Ryan. "PLEASE teach me!"
With this, Al stops the spanking and pulls open a drawer on his son's bedside table. Ryan stifles a protest as he watches his father lift out the jar of vaseline he uses to jack off in bed. "Funny," remarks Al, "this is what my dad used on me as well." He unscrews the lid and digs out a gob on his Ryan can hear him grease up his _c_o_c_k_, balls and inner thighs. Finally Al brings his hand out and gently reaches under his son's hips to grasp his hard _c_o_c_k_ in his vaseline-slick fingers. Ryan moans softly as his dad strokes the excess petroleum jelly up and down the length of his _c_o_c_k_shaft.
"Another thing you might find funny, Ryan, is that I stole this pair of boxer shorts from my dad's laundry basket the very next morning, and I've kept them as a memento ever since." Al speaks soothingly to Ryan. "It seemed appropriate to wear them for tonight's occasion, for whatever lessons you turned out to be ready for."
"Wow," sighs Ryan, looking back at the thin white cotton of the shorts, wondering if he is seeing things or if he could actually detect the remnants of father son cum stains from two decades ago. He is about to ask his dad about the shorts when he is startled by Al pulling forcefully on his dick and shoving it inside the fly of the boxers. Ryan almost coos with delight to finally feel his meat snuggle up to the warm, slick forms of his father's fat _c_o_c_k_shaft, wrinkly nutsack and hairy inner thigh. Once Ryan's _c_o_c_k_ is snugly inside, Al resumes Ryan's bare assed spanking.
SMMMMAAAAAACKKKKKK!!!!!!! CRACKKKKKKKK!!!!!!! SMMMAAACKKKKKK!!! CRACKKKKK!!
SMMMMAAAAAACKKKKKK!!!!!!! CRACKKKKKKKK!!!!!!! SMMMAAACKKKKKK!!! CRACKKKKK!!
SMMMMAAAAAACKKKKKK!!!!!!! CRACKKKKKKKK!!!!!!! SMMMAAACKKKKKK!!! CRACKKKKK!!
Ryan yelps and flails as his dad relentlessly spanks his ass, and his butt hurts more and more, while his _c_o_c_k_, meanwhile, drives repeatedly forward into the tight, warm, lubricated recesses between his dad's _c_o_c_k_, balls and thigh, and begins to feel better and better.
"Oh, God, No dad....Yes, yes, oh dad!" cries Ryan as he thrashes helplessly.
"Oh, YES, Ryan, yes...Your lesson's....coming.....to its COMPLETION!" AL says, stimulating his son's and his own excitement to a higher and higher pitch.
Ryan can feel his father's hips moving back and forth to meet his own thrusts, and minutes later both of them are gasping in increasingly intense exclamations of pleasure, until, with ovelapping howls of orgasmic release, the two men begin to pump the white boxer shorts full of hot, creamy _c_o_c_k_spew. Ryan's dickhead spurts lob after lob of hot cum into the left side crotch area of the shorts, where his abs squeeze the soaking, sticky cotton against his father's ballskin and bush, while Al shoots warm sticky jets of jizz up the right front leg of the boxers, which Ryan can feel getting wetter against his right hip.
Finally, exhausted and hoarse from crying out and totally spent of energy and semen, Ryan lifts himself off his father's knees and both he and Al slump backwards to lie face up across the bed and rest, still panting, from their exertions. Father grins, while the spanked son grimaces, as they recline in their mingled sweat and sticky cum, feeling the weight of their still throbbing _c_o_c_k_s flopped lazily along their respective stomachs. Ryan's ass burns into the crisp sheets of his bed, which feels like sandpaper to his tender buttflesh. With the panties still stretched between his knees, he rolls over onto his stomach to relieve the friction and lies there, with his naked red ass in the air.
"You were right to force my ass into those panties, dad, and to spank me raw in them. I deserved it," Ryan admits. "I was stupid to shoot off my big mouth about stuff I knew nothing about. Thank you for teaching me an unforgettable lesson."
"You're welcome, son," Al comforts Ryan, reaching over to smooth the heat-radiating skin of Ryan's sore buttcheeks with a big, moist palm. "I hated to have to hurt you, but some lessons demand pain." Ryan winces at the touch of his dad's rough hand, however gently he offers it. "But the pain will go away soon, and hopefully the lesson will remain," Al assures him, even as he reaches for another bottle from the drawer, this one a squeeze dispenser of vaseline intensive care lotion with Aloe vera. He pulls the panties down the rest of the way and leaves them to hang from Ryan's right ankle. Then he works generous squirts of the cool, soothing cream into Ryan's sore ass with his strong hands. At this point he is kneeling on the bed between the parted legs of his freshly spanked son, who while fully extended and face down, begins to sigh with relief from his dad's merciful ministrations toward's Ryan's plump, round ass.
His dad even bends down to affectionately kiss the very buttcheeks he was spanking raw only minutes before, and Ryan moans ecstatically from this unexpected gesture of gentle love from the master of tough love. There is first one kiss, and then another, followed by more and more, which make Ryan writhe with pleasure and gratitude, especially when he feels his father reach his winking, hairless little ass pucker and plant it with a moist, lip- smacking kiss. Ryan gasps and shoots a stray lob of cum out of the tip of his rehardening dick and onto the bedsheets. This is a kind of attention to his fat little bubble butt which he wasn't expecting, but which he craves more than any other sort. He can't resist scrunching his ass backward to give his father's darting tongue better access, and, encouraged by this, Al buries his hot moist lips, probing tongue and rough, chisled sandpapery chin deep into the warm, inviting crack of his son's battered round butt.
Even as Al's tongue breaches Ryan's butthole for a deep rimjob, his own rejuvenated _c_o_c_k_ emerges rock hard again through the gaping fly of the jizzed white boxers. His own ass is now in the air as he kneels between Ryan's parted legs and tongues the brat's buttcrack with the same intensity as his spanking. Father and son moan with pleasure as all tentativeness evaporates into a sloppily wet ass eating, which goes on and on, faster, deeper and sweatier until their passionate lip pucker to ass pucker assualt is suddenly interrupted by the sharp, spanky smack of a firm hand on a big, meaty buttcheek.
SMMMMAAAAAACKKKKKK!!!!!!!
"So THAT's what happened to those boxers, you little hypocritical brat!!" comes the indignant, crotchety and unmistakeable voice of Ryan's Grandpa, filling the now stunned silence of Ryan's bedroom. After one glimpse of the tall, wirey Clint Eastwood look-a-like figure of his grandpa towering over the bed with his hand still on the smarting buttcheek of his dumbstruck father, Ryan has to shut his eyes. For some reason lying soaked in his dad's jiz and submitting to a fatherly rimjob hasn't fazed his sensibilities, but to actually watch his GRANDPA act out his certain vengence upon Ryan's dad seems beyond his ability to handle. But shortly, even with his eyes closed, the unlucky fate of Ryan's father begins to paint itself with hot and heavy colors upon the canvas of Ryan's imagination, starting with the very first words of futile defensiveness his father utters.
"OW! B-but d-dad, I can EXPLAIN!" stammers Al as a second, third and several more smacks from Granda's spanking hand strike his big man buttcheeks through the thin sweat and cum-soaked white cotton of the swiped boxers. "I figured they'd be...OW!...as important one day...YEEEOOOWW!!!!! ... as the panties...OWW!!!" Al protests as he weathers the smarting blows to his butt and tries to stay supported on his hands and knees, as he remains sort of trapped between Ryan's legs.
'That's just the trouble with brats like you, son" Al's father retorts without pausing in his spanking, "you can always 'explain' everything away. Well after twenty some years of falsehood towards me I'm gonna have to teach you a lesson yer never gonna be able to EXPLAIN to anybody!" he declares. "Now get those boxers off of yer fat lyin' brat ass!"
Ryan's dad drops his jaw open in embarrassed disbelief at what his angry father has just ordered him to do. "But Dad, I'll be butt naked!" he protests, with a whine in his voice that Ryan's never heard before.
"Just do as I say, NOW, brat, and you'll get to keep the _d_a_m_n_ shorts on that you stole from me during your punishment," Ryan's grandpa barks.
Al wastes no time peeling the boxer shorts down his big ass but has trouble getting his hard dick back thru the fly so he can take them off all the way off. His big fingers get sticky with the thick globs of his own semen and his son's that saturate the shorts. But a minute later, after some clumsy manoevering, Ryan's flustered, red-faced dad has stripped off the boxer shorts and holds them by the waistband to offer to Ryan's grandpa.
"Very good, buttboy," says Grandpa. "Now put 'em back on BACKWARDS."
"B-b-backwards?" mutters Al, confused. "You heard me, son. That'll keep your horny little _c_o_c_k_ covered AND give me access to your lyin', stealin' cheatin' ass crack."
"Access for w-what?" trembles Al as he eyes the mouth-wet kiss hole between Ryan's buttcheeks he's been working on, and timidly tries to picture his own exposed, hairy butthole and what his vengeful father has in mind to do to it.
"For what I shoulda done to you twenty years ago to drive home the point of all the PAIN you caused your wife with your ilicit _f_u_c_k_ing around. Now GET THOSE SHORTS BACK ON JUST THE WAY I TOLD YOU!" snarls Ryan's grandpa.
AL gulps audibly and Ryan draws in a breath in awe of his grandpa' ruthless senseof justice. He begins to gently stroke his stiffening prick as it lies against his naked belly. Another minute later and Al is back in his father's stolen boxer shorts, but looking ridiculous and frightened in them now, with his huge hardon tenting the seamless rear expanse of white cotton, while the inviting dark, hairy inward curving recesses of his ass crack wink involuntarily, clearly exposed in the big gaping fly. Ryan decides he simply MUST open his eyes long enough to witness THIS sight.
Ryan indeed enjoys the sight of his Dad's humiliation, but also sees the regret in those big brown eyes and feels a lot of sympathy for him, even as he listens to the smacking sound of his grandpa applying vaseline to the stiff _c_o_c_k_ that he has apparently taken out of his fly. He realizes that his dad is literally _f_u_c_k_ed, and to help him cope with this fate, Ryan starts wiggling his butt and reaches back to spread his sweet young buttcheeks apart with his fingers in an invitation to AL to resume rimming his tender pink and hairless pucker.
Al gratefully licks his lips, as hungry to taste Ryan's ass again as he is eager to bury his consciousness deep in his son's buttcrack for the duration of his father's imminent assault on his own manhole. As Al's wirey father pulls his son's chunky hips toward him and pushes the thickly lubed head of his dick forward into Al's hairy, virgin hole, the big guy grinds his rough face into Ryan's ample butt, which in its plump roundness helps to muffle the sounds a 45-year old straight man makes while he's getting _f_u_c_k_ed for the first time.
"Mmmmmffffff!!!! Mmmmmfff!!!! MMMMMMMFFFF!!!!!!!!! MmmmmFFFF!"
Ryan has to make small cries out loud himself, as his father roughly tongue-_f_u_c_k_s what Ryan will refer to from that day forward as his 'buttpussy'. Ryan's grandpa just makes short grunts as he repeatedly thrusts his narrow hips againt's Ryan's dad's big ass as he proceeds with Al's punitive porking.
For the first twenty minutes of getting his ass _f_u_c_k_ed, whenever Al pauses, even for a breath, Ryan's grandpa orders him to keep on eating Ryan's ass. But at some point later, when Ryan's breathing has become heavier and heavier and the stroking of his dick under his belly has become faster and faster, his grandpa commands Al to stop his sloppy rimjob.
"Now Ryan, you flip over on your back now," commands grandpa. "Your lyin' father needs his mouth washed out good, and I think _c_o_c_k_ lather will do as well as any soap."
"NO! Dad, you CAN'T make Ryan do THAT!" protests Al, not very convincingly, though, as he strokes his own stiff dick through the white cotton shorts. Ryan has already flipped over, though, and his dad hungrily eyes the smooth long banana shape of his dick.
"Make him do WHAT, you lyin' brat?" sneers grandpa, smacking Al's big buttflank with his hand even as he thrusts his driving _c_o_c_k_ deeper.
"Make him....UNHHHH!...let me...UNHH!...suck him off!...UMMMMFF!!!! ..until he....AHHH...comes in my ... OOHHHH....my mouth..."
"Oh, I think I CAN and will do just that," Grandpa replies. "Ryan, I've got THIS hole plugged, so if you'll kindly take care of the other one now, maybe we can get some relief from your father's constant whining."
"B-but Dad! Ryan! I'm sorry! I've learned my lesson," stammers Al, hypnotized by the sight of his stiff, youthful dick rising up towards his nervous face.
"Sorry, dad," Ryan replies, placing a reassuring hand behind his father's thick, sweating neck, "but Grandpa's authority tops yours. We've got no choice but to ..er...submit...to his wishes."
Speechless at this sealing of his fate, Ryan's Dad's mouth hangs open in disbelief, even as his son's gently massaging fingers gradually become more and more insistant in directing his neck and head downward towards Ryan's throbbing dick. Seconds later, Al finds his mouth as deeply stuffed with hard _c_o_c_k_ as his butthole. He becomes a bobbing, gyrating _s_e_x_ual bridge for three generations of his family. Once a fresh product of his dad's seed, he has the humiliation now of serving as the intended receptical for his father's upcoming hot sticky load of sperm-laden semen, even while Ryan, the product of HIS own seed, will soon be serving his dad up with a crawly mouthful of his own fresh _c_o_c_k_spew. It is a defining moment for Al, and he submits with a deep sigh.
Hundreds of _c_o_c_k_thrusts later, AL's father grunts to signal that he's finally pumping his manseed into Ryan's Dad's ass. At the same moment, Al's muffled moan and gulp indicate that his banged prostate is causing him to fill up the butt seam of the boxers with a copious load of his own jizz. Joining them finally in orgasm, Ryan utters a quiet near scream of ecstasy as his father's forced _c_o_c_k_sucking finally draws out of him a huge hot load of young spermy cum.
"Don't swallow that yet," barks Grandpa. "Swish it around in your mouth first." Ryan can't resist opening his eyes to watch his dad's embarassed red face and watery brown eyes as he obeys his father's orders and virtually gargles with an overflowing mouthful of _c_o_c_k_sucker saliva and college boy semen, obliterating the comparatively pleasant penisy taste of Ryan's _c_o_c_k_flesh and changing it into the bitter mushroom soup-like flavour of freshly sucked off spooge. He swishes his liar's medicine around in his false mouth until his father tells him he can swallow, and with great relief, Al lets millions of his son Ryan's wriggling sperm cells slip and slide down his sore throat where they will tickle his tummy for just the next hour or so. The memory of this humiliation, however, will stay with him the rest of his life. There is also the matter of having his own father's jizz dripping out of his sore ass. Al's dad then makes him take off the boxers again and put them back on the right waty, and to get dressed again in his workpants, so that the huge wet wads of father and son cum flow sluggishly down Al's hairy ass crack and make the cumsoaked seam of the shorts stick uncomfortably in his ass. He hangs his head, too ashamed to say anything more to his father or son that evening. He is, howeverm, also still tingling all over from one of the most powerful and satisfying orgasms he's ever had.
Ryan struggles to dress and suffers a gratuitous smack on the sore ass cheek from his grandpa, who is already zipped up and buckled. "You can keep those panties for a souvenir, boy. Your dad's not gonna need 'em again after THIS lesson."
THE END