Copyright 2022 -- Daemon D. Hart
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In It For Life
The knock on the door didn't take him by surprise. He didn't rush to get it, though, his steps still hesitant. Fear and excitement bubbled in his chest, choking him as he grabbed the handle and opened the door.
"I got your message," he said, feeling numb at the sight of him after all this time.
Karl moved inside, past his threshold, looking good in his long dark coat and the expensive suit underneath. His blue gaze held Francesco's questioning eyes, forcing him to walk backwards until the door closed behind him with a loud thump.
He couldn't even breathe properly. The last words from Karl to him had been clear. Or were they nothing but lies, lies caused by too much pain? He gasped as Karl suddenly pulled him into a rough hug, making their bodies clash and forcing Francesco on his toes only so that he didn't lose his balance.
"Aren't you going to hug me back?" Karl's voice jolted him out of his stupor.
Francesco let his hands rest on Karl's back, and his body began to warm. He turned his hug into a tight squeeze, as they stood there, not saying a word.
It was so damned strange to have Karl there, sitting on the sofa, staring blankly at the TV that wasn't on. Francesco had dashed to the small kitchen under some pretext only to calm down the beating of his heart. For Mouse, he had gotten ready for two years. For Karl, he had barely had several hours.
"What can I get you?" he asked as he moved closer to the sofa. "A coffee? A beer?"
Karl snorted and looked away. He was so unnervingly silent and had been so since he had come through the door, with the exception of that question.
Francesco walked even closer, until his shins were touching Karl's legs. "A blowjob then?" he asked in a playful tone.
Karl's eyes shot up to him, and there was so much hidden hurt in them that Francesco didn't feel like teasing him anymore. So he took his seat by Karl's right and let a cautious hand drop on the dress pant clad knee.
"You look good," he said, not knowing what could help the other start talking. "How have you been?"
"Making small talk, Cesco?" Karl asked, in the same rough voice.
Francesco was starting to feel more and more frayed at the edges as that voice chipped at him. "Anything but this silence. It's freaking me out."
To his surprise, Karl chuckled. That was a good sign. Francesco raised his hand and grabbed Karl's cheek hard between his fingers. He pulled for good measure.
"Ouch!" Karl batted his hand away but he was laughing now. "What was that for?"
"Didn't I tell you I'd hurt you if you left me for some chick?" Francesco said and laughed, too.
"Ah," Karl muttered and sighed. "Her tits aren't big."
"What?"
"You said that if I left you for some chick with big tits," Karl said pointedly.
"Really? I think I said melons," Francesco shot back, just to show that he was remembering things all too well.
"You did?" Karl asked and turned his head to make their eyes meet.
Francesco could feel his heart fluttering in his chest, and his cock getting hard. Yeah, it was enough for Karl to look at him like that, and he wanted to lie on the floor and put his ass up for a pounding. With Mouse, it was all so fine and smooth and good feelings. With Karl, it hurt, but it felt like nothing else could top that.
He just nodded at that question.
Karl leaned against the sofa and sank in it while throwing his head back. Francesco stared at his Adam's apple, going up and down. "I was the happiest in my life on that island," Karl suddenly said.
"Speak for yourself, fucker," Francesco joked. "You weren't the one getting his ass pounded like there was no tomorrow."
"You liked it," Karl said with a snort. "You were gagging for my cock every day."
"True," Francesco admitted. "Gagging for it even now," he added quietly.
He looked away, not in the mood for Karl and some kind of judgmental look.
"Still a whore," Karl said like it was a simple fact, not an insult.
"You know me," Francesco replied in kind. "So, how's the wedding coming along?"
He had a need to punish himself by going there. But Karl was there, within reach, and he needed to piss him off if he wanted to get something out of it.
"I changed my mind. I'll have that blowjob," Karl said with a sneer. "It looks like something needs to keep that mouth of yours busy, Cesco."
Francesco wasn't impressed by Karl's bad moods, not anymore. And the guy was there, at his house, for a blowjob if not anything more. He had Mouse now, and it had to be because Karl had a hand in it, for sure. Morgan must have talked. And like always, the one who got the favor needed to express his gratitude.
But this wasn't about that, Francesco decided, as he slid to his knees and pulled Karl's cock free from his dress pants. It was hard like a rock and weeping precum. Francesco threw himself at it like his life depended on that. He moaned around the engorged mushroom as he licked it and engulfed it in his mouth. Damn, he hadn't known he had been so starved for this cock until now.
Above him, Karl was breathing hard, but he wasn't doing anything except let Francesco have his way. Decided, Francesco grabbed one of Karl's hand and pressed it against the back of his head.
"Fuck," Karl whispered. "You're the best to take cock in the whole fucking world."
No need for encouragements. Karl grabbed his head with both hands and even pushed his hips up from the sofa to fuck his throat. Francesco had to keep his thighs close to stop his erection from going nuts. This was about sucking Karl's cock. About having Mouse back because Karl had made it possible. About having them both again, just like before.
Karl came hard and fast, and Francesco could swear he could feel each spurt hitting the back of his throat, choking him. But he just held Karl's thighs down with his hands as he took everything.
"Best cum ever," he commented although he hadn't had a chance to taste it properly.
He made a move to get up, but Karl held him there. "Not yet. Mouth on my dick."
Francesco nodded and took the spent cock in his mouth again, teasing it with his tongue.
"Why do you have to be so good, you fucking slut?" Karl wondered.
Francesco could feel his balls getting blue. Why the fuck did he enjoy being insulted like that by Karl? Only him. Anyone else dared to say anything, Francesco didn't think he would take it lying down. With Karl, he would take everything lying down, or on all fours, or against a wall, or bent over a sofa, or however the guy wanted.
The cock in his mouth was chubbing up again. It filled him so good, even though there was another hole in him that wanted it. He swallowed greedily, down to the hilt, enjoying the smell of Karl's crotch. Was that woman doing this for him? Like this? For Karl's sake, he surely hoped so because otherwise, he was getting a rotten deal. Karl's big fat cock was the kind to be worshipped on one's knees.
He pushed his tongue out to lick the entire length and the balls as far as he could. There was no need for Karl to force his head down since he was doing a pretty fucking good job on his own. Deepthroating this gorgeous cock was such a blessing.
"Take it, bitch," Karl hissed, "take it all!"
Francesco didn't mind the second serving. Hell, he wouldn't mind to be kept on a cum diet for days if it came from Karl's balls. He swallowed it like a pro, enjoying every second of it, and every inch of Karl's cock.
After it softened in his mouth, he held his head against Karl's thigh and played with his tongue around. Karl surprised him by moving from the sofa and towering above him. He didn't protest as the guy pushed his half hard cock through his lips and began moving his hips to the rhythm. Francesco was a bit disappointed that Karl didn't fuck his ass like that, but maybe that was all he wanted.
It wasn't his say to ask for more. Karl hammered his throat, making his jaw hurt a little in that position. Francesco pressed his own hard-on down with his palm, moaning as much as the cock lodged down his throat allowed it.
"You fucking beautiful bitch," Karl whispered. "Yeah, look at me, high on my cum already, Cesco?"
He probably looked that far gone. Why did he enjoy being mistreated like this so badly? There was something wrong with him. With Mouse, sex was a nice trip, a leisure making him shudder in pure pleasure all over. Karl was making it hard, impossible, but Francesco's cock was a fucking weirdo, right now threatening to burst through his jeans, fuck the consequences.
His eyes locked with Karl's helplessly, and he was pretty sure they were now rolling in his head, as a third serving of cum was pumped right into his stomach.
Later, as Karl let go of him, he worked his jaw and touched it gingerly. Then he started laughing, and Karl followed.
Francesco wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and moved onto the sofa. His dick was still pulsing hard in his jeans, but he didn't have the strength to do anything about it anyway. That would have to wait till later.
Karl remained standing, towering over him still. Francesco cocked his head and looked at him. "What?" he asked, his voice a bit raspy after having his throat mistreated like that.
"You're hard," Karl pointed out.
"Yeah," Francesco admitted. "Wanna suck it?"
Karl made a grimace.
"Worth a try," Francesco said. "No experimentation outside daddy's jurisdiction all this time, then?" It was lame, but he needed to fish for some info on that time apart.
Karl surprised him by lifting one foot and pressing it against his crotch. Francesco's breath caught in his chest as he stared at the dress shoe, shining like it had just been taken off the shelf. Karl didn't press very hard and moved it slowly, making Francesco squirm.
"Cut it out," Francesco whispered.
Karl shook his head slowly. "You want it," he said and his eyes flashed with something.
Francesco turned crimson under that gaze. Yeah, he wanted it. "At least, let me pull it out," he mumbled.
Karl shook his head again. "No, like this. I want to see you cum in your pants from my foot on your dick like the slut you are."
"Fucker, that's not even--" Francesco groaned as Karl pressed down harder. His cock was a complete idiot, happy at being rubbed like that.
He kept staring at Karl. The asshole held his hands in the pockets of his pants like he was bored or something, but he moved his foot around like he knew what to do. Francesco grabbed the edge of the sofa with both hands to stop himself from kicking Karl's foot away. He half wanted that, but his cock was pleased with the attention nonetheless.
He closed his eyes only as his entire body shuddered with the forced release. He was panting hard when he heard Karl talking.
"Show me." The command was curt and to the point.
Francesco huffed as he struggled with his fly, his fingers still shaking. Karl examined him with a cool look as he presented his soiled underwear.
Then, much to his shock, Karl grabbed his coat and began walking toward the door. Francesco jumped to his feet and followed. "What the hell, man?"
He grabbed Karl from behind and held him close, not wanting to let go.
"You don't get to ask me that," Karl hissed.
"Why?" Francesco held on to him. At least, Karl wasn't trying to break free.
"You don't like the silence? How about two fucking years of it?"
The injustice of it all was making Francesco tremble with anger. "You said I was dead to you. What was this? Some fucked up zombie sex? And how the hell was I supposed to find you?"
For a moment, he thought Karl was laughing, but the tremble in the strong body came from somewhere else.
"You looked for him, but not me," Karl said harshly and pushed him away.
Francesco stumbled backwards for a moment, but he still managed to reach Karl, turn him, and press him against the door. Maybe he was nuts to challenge the fucker who was still stronger than him, but he could feel his teeth grinding in anger. "So what? I had to. You can't be so fucking jealous when you were the one to cut all ties."
Karl looked at him like he wanted to strangle him on the spot. "Did he fuck you good, at least?"
Francesco shook his head. "Not as good as you if you're that desperate for confirmation."
Karl's eyes lit up for a moment. "You must have gotten dozens of cocks these years in that tight boy pussy of yours."
"Not one until Mouse came."
"Liar."
"Asshole."
Karl laughed and pushed one hand through his hair. "Whatever. Gotta go. Or do you want me to sit around and talk about my wedding?"
Francesco tsked in displeasure. "You're still a fucker, you know that? But whatever, thank you for bringing him back to me."
Karl shrugged. "I'd say `you're welcome', but you're not."
"What about my stepdad? I got that message by the way. Twelve broken bones. I didn't even know if that was the correct number of times he fucked me when I told you."
Karl threw him an odd look, but then a small smile crept to his lips. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
Francesco sighed. He felt too weary to continue that argument. "Will you come again?" he asked. "My door is open, just so you know."
"Just like your legs?" Karl sneered.
Francesco worked his jaw. It still felt sore after the fucker had fucked his throat like that. "Screw you, Karl." He pushed Karl away to pull open the door.
Karl smirked as he moved past him. Francesco caught him by the front of his shirt and gave him a loud smack of a kiss on the lips. "Now your mouth smells like your dick. Make sure the missus doesn't sniff you. She might wonder."
Karl didn't walk away, not yet. He held Francesco under that unnerving gaze for a bit longer. "Still so fucked up."
"You're one to talk. By the way, the answer is yes."
"What?" Karl was staring at his lips, somewhat distracted.
"My legs are open for you, just like my door."
Francesco followed Karl with his eyes as he walked away. No answer to any questions, voiced out loud or not.
Welcome back, Karl, welcome the fuck back.
tbc
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The last short story written for subscribers is Owned by the Frat House - 1 (Part 4 of The Used Boy series).
Andy feels the need of something in his ass. He's about to buy a dildo when he gets a phone call from Mr. Torelli. The guy lets him know that his friend James wants to rent Andy for a business trip and spoil him in the process. However, Mr. Torelli's son, Garrett, has other plans when he hears about it, and he steals Andy for the weekend, promising him that he'll be owned by Garrett's frat house instead of caring for some old man's dick. Andy hopes to give the boys some bjs and get out of there in time to go with James on that trip. It looks, though, like he can kiss those plans goodbye.
You can read a fragment of that story on my blog: https://daemondhart.blogspot.com/2022/01/by-frat-house-1-used-boy-part-four.html