Copyright 2022 -- Daemon D. Hart
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In It For Life
Francesco stormed toward the house, without throwing one look back to see if Karl followed. He could go sleep in a ditch tonight, the fucking moron. The slap hadn't hurt too bad, and Francesco had gotten worst from Karl, but he didn't want to let this go. What was he supposed to do? Karl was such a fucking asshole. Francesco couldn't care less about how he didn't want to be compared to his dad. They really came from the same gene pool. The scumbag gene pool.
Morgan must have heard their car because he was in front of the guesthouse, hands in his pockets, watching him. "Something happened, Francesco?"
"You could say that," Francesco spat without stopping. He rushed into the house, climbed the stairs two by two, and headed for one of the spare bedrooms. He was sick of Karl and his sick family for the night. One night in separate beds, and they might feel less inclined to strangle each other. Francesco was counting on that because, otherwise, their family life was about to get extremely complicated.
He turned the key as soon as he was inside and began undressing. Fuck Don. Fuck Karl. And fuck his throbbing dick that didn't want to go down. Don could lie all he wanted about not spiking their drinks with some hardon inducer; that dick wasn't hard on its own like that. Francesco threw himself on the bed once he was completely naked and forced himself to fall asleep and forget about the assholes in his life for a change.
He woke up startled while it was still dark outside, and his keen sense of danger let him know he was no longer alone in the room. And someone had turned on the light. Before he could jump to his feet, his body was pressed down by another, and his mouth was covered. "Don't scream like an idiot."
The hand moved away from his mouth. "Screw you, Karl. I locked the door for a reason."
"Whatever. You're my husband. You're not supposed to sleep alone. I need to put my dick in you."
"No shit. What if I say `no dice'?"
"Then I'll fuck you anyway. Since when I'm asking for your permission?"
"Right," Francesco said wryly. "How is that butt hurt, Karl? Do you still feel my dick?"
He was more itching for a fight than a dicking.
"I told you something," Karl growled in his ear. "But go ahead, be a bitch." He didn't have to use a lot of force to hike Francesco on all fours.
Francesco braced for being fucked dry, but Karl pulled away. And then, suddenly, he grabbed Francesco by the balls and twisted. It was like the air had been knocked out of him; Francesco gasped and tried to get away, but Karl pushed one hand between his shoulder blades and held him down. Then, to his relief, he released his balls. It all lasted a moment; the next, Francesco groaned in pain as Karl slapped his ball sac. Guided by instinct, he kicked blindly, but Karl laughed and caught his ankle. Flooded by sudden fear and adrenaline, Francesco fought but Karl was, as always, superior in both strength and skill, and soon, he was trapped underneath, on his back, his legs parted and the other on top of him.
Karl hushed him while caressing his hair. "I want to be mad at you so much, Cesco. But I can't. He fucked you in front of me, and I need to flush that cum of his out of you."
"You kicked me in the balls, you fucker," Francesco yelled and rained punches on Karl's back, something that seemed as ineffectual as caresses.
"He doesn't have the right to make you suffer," Karl whispered in his ear. "That's my thing. You're mine. Now quit fighting."
"Why? So that you can kick my nuts some more?"
"Stop being an idiot, Cesco. I'll lick them so that they stop hurting, okay?"
"Screw you. Like I'd let you anywhere near my balls again."
Karl laughed and pushed his erection against Francesco's hurting crotch. "I'm close enough. I mean it, Cesco. Stop fighting right now if you believe in me."
Francesco could hear the pounding of his heart in his ears. Only Karl would ask for trust after slapping a man's balls. He stopped thrashing. "Alright. Let's see the miracle. Lick my fucking balls."
Karl kissed the side of his neck loudly and then moved lower. Francesco hissed as Karl caught his balls and began whimpering. But after that, Karl stuck out his tongue, looked at him and began to lick his balls, one, then the other, caressing them with long strokes. Francesco's whimpers turned into something else. "You're nuts," he whispered. "Why would you do this? You're not a bitch."
"Just the words I wanted to hear from you," Karl said and pushed the entire sac in his mouth, where he used his tongue to tease them until Francesco fell on his back, cursing and panting. "Damn, the taste of your balls, Cesco."
"Do you like it?" he asked.
"I don't know."
"You're so incredibly fucked up."
Karl climbed over him and held him pinned down, his stare intense and hard to understand.
"What?" Francesco asked, his pulse quickening again. What did Karl have to be such a wild card all the time? When was he going to start figuring out this asshole for real?
Karl shook his head. "You know, at times, I thought that if I had you long along, I'd finally get over you. But I still look at you and see the most beautiful thing in the world."
"Thing. Okay," Francesco mumbled.
Karl tsked. "You like splitting hairs too much. You're the only one that matters to me."
"You suck at love confessions."
Karl gave him at crooked smile. "I can suck other things."
Francesco's eyes grew wide. "You didn't just say what I think you said."
An innocent look was returned. "I have no idea what your dirty mind is thinking about."
Francesco just closed his eyes and groaned. "You know, I would have thought you would be mighty pissed because I fucked your ass. I thought I was looking at weeks on end without talking to each other and shit."
"I am pissed," Karl replied. "Only I'm not pissed at you. I'm pissed at my dad."
"Good. I'm pissed at your dad, too. I've wanted your ass before, but not like this."
"And now you're telling me?"
"Seriously? Would you have put out?"
"Nah. Not my style."
Karl was playing it down, but Francesco could see that throbbing vein in his neck. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to rile him up. "For what's worth, I'm sorry, Karl. Even if I did think of popping you one good, I wouldn't have done it. That's how I love you."
"Good to hear." Karl kissed him, hard and with longing in there to last for weeks. "The fucker's going to fuck you again. He got a taste of your ass and can't let go. There's not much I can do right now. But I'm going to strike the fucker down. I'm telling you that."
"Don't do anything that could put you in danger. I doubt you'd only get sent to some prison island to have fun with twinks."
"Like I'd find a twink better than you," Karl said with a snort. "Now, let's go out."
"Out? Where?" Francesco tried to put up some resistance as Karl pulled him along, both naked.
"In the freaking yard or garden or whatever that's called," Karl said.
"You in the mood for doing it out in the open?"
"It's night. And I'd say the property is secluded enough."
Francesco didn't protest. He had given up on trying to read this fucker and his moods a while ago. On occasion, he still tried, but that didn't mean that it took him anywhere. Karl got them down the stairs and outside the house, and then they circled around until they reached the back.
Francesco realized what Karl wanted to do only when he saw him grabbing the garden hose. "Are you for real? I know it's fucking summer, but still." He shivered, eyeing Karl with unease.
Karl pushed him on his knees and then on all fours. He kissed him repeatedly on the mouth and the cheek. "I'll go slowly. But I want to see your belly full and then how you shit out all that nasty cum, okay?"
Francesco hung his head low and stared down. It was too dark to see anything in detail, but he kept his eyes open. He whimpered as Karl pushed the spout up his ass, lodging it inside. His arms shook as the water began flooding his intestines.
"Easy," Karl cooed, "I won't go further than what you can take." He began to rub Francesco's lower belly, whispering some weird praises and encouragements. "Too bad I can't make you pregnant," he added. "To know that I put a baby inside you. That would make you mine completely."
"What's going on here?"
Francesco started at Morgan's voice. It wasn't like the man hadn't seen worse of him, but he still froze and closed his eyes in shame.
"Just cleaning up my mare," Karl said and laughed. He slapped Francesco's ass lightly and then caressed it.
"Karl," Morgan warned. "Do you really want to compete with him?"
Francesco didn't need a special map to know what Morgan was talking about.
"It's not about that. I just want my husband clean of my father's cum. It's nothing else," Karl replied. "By the way, since you're here, give Francesco some cock to suck. I'm too busy down here, and I know that it would help him feel better."
Morgan didn't appear keen on following that order. Francesco didn't believe it was like that between the two, even if the bodyguard was supposed to be some kind of subordinate to Karl. "I don't think so. I bet Francesco doesn't like sucking on limp dicks."
Despite his situation, Francesco snorted at Morgan's words. That was so, so fucked up, but he appreciated the man's sense of humor.
"Geez, it's not like I asked you to harm him or anything," Karl retorted. He didn't sound pissed, but, after all, who really knew with him?
Morgan crouched by them and Francesco felt his large warm hand on his back. "I think that's enough, Karl. Come on, just let him. No point in making him feel miserable about things he didn't do and he has no control over whatsoever."
"I had no idea you came here to spoil all the fun. I think you should go back to sleep."
"I'm here because I care about you. Both of you," Morgan pointed out. "Play nice, Karl. I know that you don't mean to hurt Francesco."
"Just giving him a bit of a clean-up. I'm not hurting him," Karl argued.
Francesco wondered when Morgan was going to lose his patience with a brat like Karl. Or if he ever did. He heard a sigh coming from the bodyguard and then the sounds of him getting to his feet. "Just finish. Now."
The words were firm, but without sounding like there would be consequences if Karl didn't follow through.
"Alright," he heard Karl saying, much to his surprise. Whatever the relationship between Karl and his bodyguard, it looked like the man's words had hit home somehow, and that without threats or warnings or anything like that. It made Francesco wonder plenty.
He hissed as the hose was pulled out of his ass, and Karl straightened him up incredibly gently. He grabbed Karl by the upper arms as he let go of everything in his ass. By the end of it all, he was shivering all over. Karl kissed his cheek and then his lips. "I still want to watch you suck Morgan's cock," he whispered. "I know you must look so good with a big cock like that in your mouth."
"You know that already," Francesco said in a raspy voice.
"Yeah, but I want to see you with someone else until the anger fades."
"What do you mean by that? You saw me with Mouse, right?"
Karl chuckled and cradled his face in his palms. Then, he kissed him some more. "Cesco, I need to bring down the meanest motherfucker on the face of the planet. I need my wits about me. If I see red each time he calls so that he can fuck you in front of me, I have no chance. So, now, we'll go back into the house, and Morgan here will fuck you six ways into Sunday while I watch."
tbc
To check out my latest works, visit my blog: https://daemondhart.blogspot.com/
That's where you can also see Karl's big dick on the cover of Episode One of the illustrated version of the story:
https://daemondhart.blogspot.com/2022/10/island-illustrated-episode-one-cover.html