The following is a work of erotic fiction featuring graphic descriptions of sexual situations. It is meant to be enjoyed by a mature audience only.
Delmont Ashford was one cranky backwoods hillbilly, as most of his coworkers over at the plant would attest. Usually an amiable sort, Del had behaved like a man with a burr in his shorts for weeks. When approached, he just didn’t want to talk about it. Mac, owner of the one bar in the small Midwestern town, noticed that old Del wasn’t stopping in quite as often. And when he did, Del wasn’t all that talkative. Mac had been around long enough---and seen enough---to figure it had something to do with that incident in the rest room of the ramshackle roadhouse.
Mac’s guess was spot on. Discovering his eighteen-year-old getting fucked was no shocker to daddy Delmont. He’d known for years his young’n was a hungry cock whore. Hell, Del himself had been fuckin’ the kid since he was near about sixteen. So had Del’s two mangy bootlegging brothers, his Pappy and his Grandpappy, who was near about seventy-somethin’. With no womenfolk around up in them there mountains what else was a fella s’posed to do?
Del had figured all that family fucking was enough for his boy. Hadn’t figured young Tucker to be a bathroom slut down at Mac’s. Yet there he was, in all his teen glory, bent over the sink and gettin’ buggered by that gawt damned Owen Talbot. Of all the dicks in that one-horse town it just had to be the one stickin’ out of the perfectly pleated slacks of Del’s nemesis. A tanned and handsome Mayor Talbot with his conservatively precision-cut hair, his even pearly whiter than white teeth, his manicured hands (that looked like they never did a day’s honest work) and dressed to the nines, as always. Del reckoned Owen Talbot didn’t even own a pair of ratty jeans. That shit-eatin’ smile Owen had cast him upon their being “found out” was what really stuck in Del’s craw. He wasn’t just stickin’ it to Tucker; he was stickin’ it to Del, too.
Del sure gave Tucker the old what for when he got him home. He just sat hisself down in his fav-or-ite chair (covered by a quilt so’s no one could see the stuffing coming out) and ordered Tuck to lay across his lap. With the teen’s ass bared he proceeded to give him a whoopin’. His big, calloused hand rose and fell repeatedly, turning Tuck’s sweet, creamy cheeks to crimson.
“You (SMACK) do not (SMACK) fuck with (SMACK) Owen (SMACK) fuckin’ (SMACK) Talbot (MAJOR SMACK)!”
Problem was, although it was supposed to be punishment, the both of them got riled up, ‘specially when Del shoved a fat, dirty finger in Tucker’s hole and dug out some of the cum just a-sittin’ there. Afore long Del was shovin’ his foot long into his boy (yup, fellas, the rural rooster was that hung). It went in real easy, what with three major loads up there supplied by the varmint Talbot, followed by big-bellied, bushy bearded trucker Hank Weathers and then topped off by ole Mac hisself. Del’s chastising fuck was mighty ferocious, but Tuck hardly complained. He liked his daddy’s big dick. Only ones in town bigger than Del were the old blacks who hung around the general store/filling station. Boy-oh-boy would Del whoop his ass extra hard if he knew about them!
Afterwards Del fell right off to sleep. He always did after sex. His snores were enough to wake the dead in Potters Field down yonder. It was a fitful sleep, filled with dreams of that sonofabitch Owen Talbot. If he thought wailing Tuck had gotten it out of his system, he was wrong. That gawt damned dandy needed to be taught a tough lesson, too. Just how he was going to accomplish that remained unclear to the bumpkin.
Sometimes opportunity arises at the most unexpected of times. It sure did for Delmont Ashford one fine fall weekend afternoon. He was taking advantage of the crisp, but sunny, day to do a little hunting. Up here in the hills the law didn’t much care about those kinds of things. Armed with his trusted Winchester and his old hound Skeeter he set out on foot through the back fields, up over the ridge and near the line of the woods. His brothers lived deep up there in them woods. It’s where they made their moonshine.
It was quite a hike but it didn’t bother Delmont at all. Now, if it was them dog days of summer it would be another story. Finding a nice rock ledge on the forest’s border he sat himself down, reached into his shirt pocket and withdrew a flask. What was huntin’ without a few slugs of ‘shine? As he relaxed, he was still on the look-out for rabbit or even gopher. In them woods he felt sure he’d find ‘possum, raccoon and if’n he got lucky, deer. There was always the chance of deer, but Del wasn’t anxious to tangle with one of them. Just somethin’ he could haul home and cook up for dinner. If’n it was a deer he’d have to go get his no-account brothers to help him out draggin’ it back. With them two one never knew what they was up to. One or t’other of them prob’ly spendin’ time in Sheriff Beaufort’s jail.
Del stuck to the fields with old Skeeter leading the way. Up over grassy knolls and down into valleys he ambled along, pausing every now and then for another sip of ‘shine. The usual was for him to imbibe too much and end up taking a nap nestled in the tall grass with Skeeter keeping watch at his side. He was already going slower and moving a bit unsteadily. Pausing at the crest of a hill he looked down across the sprawling expanse and realized he had ventured onto old man Johnson’s farm. The old fuck owned acres and acres, could have sold it for some quality money if he had a lick of sense. How in hell he paid taxes was a mystery to near about everyone. He didn’t work the farm anymore. Fields were overgrown. His neglected house looked like a strong wind would bring it all down around him. Usually, on a day like today, he could be seen rocking on his front porch with his hound, Moose, and a rifle at his side sippin’ the Ashford’s ‘shine. Floyd Johnson didn’t cotton to unexpected visitors. Everybody, including Del, figured he had a stash of money hidden somewhere up there which kept him going.
Staying out of eyesight (although Floyd was so old he prob’ly couldn’t see diddly) Del veered off to one side and the grove of trees situated there. Near about everybody knew there was a fresh water pond nestled amongst those trees with a rock formation rising from the water dead center. When him and his brothers were kids they used to sneak out there, shed their duds, swim out to the spot and sun themselves on the rock island. Never got caught. Right now a dip in that cool water sounded pretty good to Del. Even though it wasn’t hotter’n a field nigger’s asshole he had worked up a sweat. Mebbe it was just the ‘shine. Either case, Del needed to cool off.
He entered the grove of trees with their colorful autumn leaves all ready to strip down and dunk himself once he came upon the pond. But when he did he stopped short just before coming out into the open. He grabbed Skeeter by the collar and warned him to hush. There on the bedrock were two naked young’ns. They were lounging there, legs spread out before them and leaning back on one elbow while their other hand stroked their own dick. Hunkered down on his haunches so as not to be observed, Del figured they must be about his son’s age. Must be locals to know about this place and therefore more’n likely Tucker’s classmates. Squinting in the early afternoon sunlight Del noted they were smooth bodied and showing some teenage musculature, like his own boy. Mebbe they was even teammates. Wanting a better vantage point Del crawled on his big belly down the slope and hid behind a shrub. Carefully moving branches aside he peered through the opening at the two sun worshippers.
They were just casually stroking their hardons and giggling, it looked like. Del realized they were twins. Not identical, but close enough to assume they was brothers. Cute boys. Medium length blondish hair, falling over their foreheads in front and well below the nape of their neck in back. A wholesome look about them. Del chuckled, remembering him and his brothers doing the same, jerking off on that rock and hoping old man Johnson didn’t come around with his shotgun. He wasn’t so old then and might have caused them grief. These boys needn’t worry; Floyd was so arthritic there was no way he could venture out this far even if he wanted to, let alone pull a trigger.
Just when the one on the right reached out to put his hand on the other’s dick Del had a revelation. Slapping himself across the forehead when it struck him, he watched wide-eyed as one brother stroked the other’s cock. Owen Talbot had twin sons! This must be, had to be, his boys!! Sure enough, they was in Tucker’s class and they played ball together on the team. They was smiling as the one jerked off the other. And then, the other was returning the favor. It looked to Del like this wasn’t the first time they’d played with each other’s dickie.
Indeed, Ricky and Roy Talbot were the mayor’s sons. They were fresh-faced, good looking natural born athletes and all of eighteen with the combined features of a handsome father and attractive mother. Close enough in appearance to fool some, the twins were instantly recognizable to their folks and close friends. There was that one time when Ricky, the more mischievous of the two, tricked his brother’s girl, Rhonda Sue, into the back seat of the brother’s shared car and got to third base. Rhonda Sue was highly aroused as Ricky passionately tongue kissed her while fingering her moist snatch and fondling her small breast. And then…
“Rhonda Sue,” Ricky breathed into her ear while she writhed about on his middle and index fingers. “Your pussy is so nice.” Rhonda Sue moaned, almost ready to finally give herself to “Roy.” And then, “But Jean Marie’s titties are so much bigger.” Rhonda Sue froze, then hauled off and smacked Ricky across the face. She got out of the car swearing she never wanted to see him again and began walking home while Ricky was bowled over with laughter. Next day in school Roy was confused as to why Rhonda Sue was giving him the cold shoulder until Ricky finally confessed. They both had a good laugh about Ricky’s subterfuge. Roy had been ready to dump Rhonda Sue anyway. She had become too possessive. And, in truth, Jean Marie indeed had bigger tits.
Ever since they sprouted hardons Ricky and Roy had been playing with each other. What began as idle curiosity soon became an everyday thing. Side by side in bed, in the shower and anywhere else their teen hormones commanded. Ricky was the adventurous one who first reached out to grab his brother’s dick and stroke. Roy gasped and thought to protest, but it felt so good. Soon they were cock to cock, both using their hands to manipulate their joined meat. When they came, they came together, spewing gushers of young cum over each other’s groin and trim torso.
The rock formation dead center in Johnson’s pond quickly became their favorite location. They frolicked bare-assed in the cool water grabbing at each other before swimming out to the mound and getting down to business. It felt both awesome and daring to be out there in the buff doing what they normally did behind closed doors. There was always the fear of old man Johnson finding them, but the dare made it all the more exciting.
Delmont was tickled pink watching them play with each other. Him and his two lame-brained brothers used to do a triangle jerk until their Pappy caught them, making it a four way. When Grandpappy moseyed in the whole gosh darned Ashford clan was just a-beatin’ off. Dem was the days! Now they had young Tucker to do it for ‘em. Del swore that young’n would suck a dead man if’n he could. If’n he laid down with his two mangy moonshinin’ weed-smokin’ uncles, who took a bath down yonder to the crick mebbe once’ta week, he’d do anythin’.
Del didn’t even realize he was groping his crotch while watchin’ Talbot’s boys goin’ at each other. Them cute young’ns had shifted position and was now facin’ each other, one’s trim legs crossin’ over the other ones and they was still chokin’ chicken. All of a sudden like, the one cups his hand around back of the others head and they start in a-kissin’. Now Del had heard of kissin’ cousins. He once had one. Fat Wanda Marie. Big as she was he didn’t just kiss her, he done fucked her sloppy cunt, too. Never knew what happened to Wanda Marie. Prob’ly got herself in a whole heap of trouble bein’ that she even let the nigroids fuck ‘er. Prob’ly had herself a half-an-half baby somewheres.
As Del interestedly watched, smacking his huge drooling soup cooler lips, the cutie who had initiated the face sucking moved his head down and started chewing on his brother’s tit. The one getting the treatment tossed back his pretty head like he was really enjoying it. Breathing heavily, Del slid a hand inside his worn flannel shirt and took hold of one of his fat nubs. Toying with his tit meat sent an instant message to his cock, which was now beating against the restraint of his pants. Del enjoyed cradling Tucker’s head in the crook of his arm while the boy sucked on his teat. Del had big fat nubs and Tuck nursed on them as if he was actually going to be rewarded with some daddy milk. Del’s huge cock leaked like a faulty faucet when Tuck gave him titty service and he was sure that boy on the rock was doing the same.
Now the sweetie doing all the work was shifting his body so he was on his knees with his pretty little ass facing Del. As the peeper watched the kid’s head started bobbing up and down. From his position Del couldn’t clearly see, but he had a pretty good idea the boy was giving his brother a blow job! It was all more than Del could take. Rising up from behind the bush he tucked his shotgun under one arm and worked to unfasten the front of his grimy pants. His hard foot long popped free from the fly of his boxers. Determined to find a better vantage point he started trodding through the high grass on the slope leading down to the pond. They were really going at it now. The one getting the suck job had his head thrown back again and he was looking up at the clear blue sky in ecstasy. An excited Del paid no mind to his pants, which had fallen down around his ankles and was making the walk difficult. He tried going a bit faster than he should have. Before he realized what was happening his feet got caught up in the legs of the pants. Stumbling, he fell forward. At the same time the rifle went off, startling the Talbot boys. Their heads shot in his direction and they saw the disheveled hillbilly rolling down the hill with a barking dog accompanying him.
“Dag gum sumbitch!” Del mumbled as he came to rest a few feet from the edge of the pond. With some effort he came to his feet and brushed himself off. Somewhere along the fall he had lost his pants and one boot. But he’d managed to hold onto his rifle. Looking out he saw the twins staring at the intruder with mouths agape, obviously not sure of what they should do.
“Now you young’ns get on out of there,” Del shouted. When they didn’t move he pointed the gun in their direction and repeated, “I said get on out of there, ya hear?” The boys exchanged uncertain looks. One shrugged his shoulders and they both slipped off the boulder and into the still water. Del’s eyes followed them as they expertly swam through the pond to shore. Their lithe, long-limbed smooth bodies glistened with beads of water as they stepped through the reeds and stood before Del.
“Jest what’d you think you young’ns was a-doin’ out there?” Del demanded.
The one who’d been the “giver” shrugged and relied, “Just having a little fun, that’s all. Didn’t mean any harm, Mr. Johnson.”
Mr. Johnson? It took Del a while to compute but eventually he got it. Owen Talbot’s sons thought he was the farmer. Well, he sure as shit didn’t look seventy-something years old. That’s about what Del figured old man Johnson was. Far as Del was concerned, he was a fine figure of a man---not some old coot. As Del put all this together in his mind he noticed both boys’ eyes were on his crotch. Glancing down at himself he realized he’d lost his pants in the fall and his big old hard on was sticking up out of his faded boxers. The one who had so far done all the talking was absently licking his lips.
Gawt damned if they wasn’t two cuties, Delmont thought to himself. Who’da thought they come from a varmint like Owen Talbot? Actually, Owen was a very attractive man. Too attractive for this backwoods town. But it was the place where he’d made a political splash which hopefully would lead to bigger and better things. Del wasn’t the brightest knife in the rack but he was savvy enough to know he could ruin Talbot’s career right quick if’n the public knew what the sleazy Mayor was doin’ with his son, Tucker.
Skeeter was barking and dancing excitedly around the twins, had been ever since they came out of the water. “Shoosh your maw, Skeeter!” Del commanded. Even though Old Man Johnson’s hearing had seen better days, it might be enough to bring him and his mangy dog to the site. Skeeter, a good dog, obeyed his master and sat on his haunches next to the kid who was being blown out on the boulder, dripping tongue hanging out and frantically panting.
Playing up the mistaken identity angle Del tucked the handle of the shotgun up under one armpit, the muzzle pointed to the ground, and lectured, “You think its okey dokey to come a-tresspassin' on this here property, tekkin off your clothes and fornycatin’ out in that yonder pond?”
“Gee, we’re sorry Mr. Johnson,” the cocksucker was all wide-eyed innocence. “We didn’t mean any harm. By the way, my name is Ricky and this is my brother, Roy. It’s just so nice out here on your farm that we couldn’t help but, you know, play.”
“I seen what you two was doin’,” Del countered, squinting one eye as he pondered the duo. “You was a-suckin' on your brother’s dickie out there.”
Ricky snickered and pointed to Del’s crotch. “Looks like you were enjoying what you saw. Jeez, you sure have a big dick, Mr. Johnson. Never have seen one so big before. Coach’s is big, but you’re bigger.”
Del proudly puffed out his chest. “Runs in the fam’ly.” Then, feigning anger, “Now don’t you all go tryin’ n butterin’ me up. You was tresspassin’ an’ doin’ nasty things in that yonder pond. You,” pointing at Ricky, “git yer young butt over here an’ take yer lickings.”
Ricky didn’t appear at all frightened. In fact, he had a grin which spread from ear to ear. “Mr. Johnson” was a barrel bellied hillbilly with a hound dog face, unibrow, floppy ears like an elephant and lips larger than a Negro’s, but the man’s cock had him mesmerized. Ricky rightly figured the bestial thing had to be a foot long, at least. It was meaty and thick and had veins as wide as his pinky finger winding around it. The fat head was barely poking out from folds of cheesy foreskin. The only cock Ricky had ever played with was his own brother’s. While he’d seen Coach’s cock in the school locker room he had only fantasized about giving it a work out. But here in front of him was a local yokel with a burgeoning hardon which defied the realm of possibilities.
To Roy’s astonishment his brother followed the hick’s command and stepped up to him. Ricky’s young cock, which had wilted after their swim through the cool waters, was now at full mast once again. Roy looked down to see that his was following suit. Skeeter, the dog, was whimpering as he sat there beside Roy and watching the other approach his master. Even if he thought of making a run for it and leaving Ricky to fend for himself “Mr. Johnson” would more than likely sic his dog on him. And there was the real fact that the man had that shotgun tucked under his armpit. Deciding he’d better make friends, Roy reached down to pet the top of the mongrel’s head. Skeeter was highly receptive, turning his head to look up at the naked teen and lick his attentive hand. Skeeter was obviously a push over.
Del sat his hairy ass down on a nearby log, slapped his thigh and commanded, “Sit yerself down right here, young’n.” Ricky grinned excitedly and moved closer to the hillbilliy. Suddenly Del’s arm shot out, grabbed Ricky by the waist and stretched him belly down across his lap. Ricky could feel the hick’s hardon poking into his gut. “Imma goinna learn you a lesson, boy,” Del announced. “Misbehavin’ here in Johnson’s pond and fornickycatin’ with your brother! Cain’t have none of that!”
With the smooth-bodied son of his arch enemy stretched across his thick and hairy thighs Del ran a rough hand down the contour of the boy’s back, cupped one pert ass cheek and squeezed. Ricky wriggled on Del’s lap, sending shivers through the man’s big dick. Del’s arm rose and quickly fell, landing open-palmed on Ricky’s rounded can. He rubbed his hand over the well-shaped buttock giving the other the same treatment. Repeatedly his paw rose and fell, turning Ricky’s ass cakes an increasing shade of crimson as he repeatedly growled, “Bad boy, bad boy!” Del’s blows were hard and Ricky was really feeling it. His ass was already stinging. He thrashed about on Del’s lap, suddenly not liking this anymore.
“Please, Mr. Johnson, stop!” he begged. “I promise we won’t do it again. I promise!”
“It ain’t over ‘til I say ,” Del growled. He beat Ricky’s as if it was the boy’s father, Owen Talbot, over his lap. When the kid got home and was unable to sit daddy Owen might want to inspect the damage. Del would be tickled pink for Owen to know it was he, Delmont Ashford, who had inflicted the pain.
Roy would have liked to have helped his brother but he figured he was no match for this big farmer. Besides, the brute had a shotgun at his side. And, despite all, it was sort of hot seeing Ricky squirming on the savage’s lap. Watching Ricky take punishment had his dick rock hard and throbbing in front of him. Roy licked his lips and absently reached down to stroke his teen meat.
Satisfied with his work Del ran both hands over the target area, feeling the heat from Ricky’s flaming mounds. “Please, Mr. Johnson, let us go,” the boy begged. There were little tears in his eyes. This had not gone as he might have expected. “I swear we won’t ever trespass on your property again.”
“I ain’t done with you yet, boy,” Del cackled ominously. “In fact, we’s just gettin’ started.” Ricky struggled to break free but Delmont had the advantage. As the teen squirmed Del used both hands to pry the boy’s tight cheeks apart. “Ewww-eeee! Now lookie there! Ain’t that a purty little poke hole, Skeeter?” The dog seated at Roy’s side barked twice in agreement. “Well come on over here and get you some,” Del commanded.
Skeeter abandoned one boy for the other. Trotting up to the scene he put his nose to Ricky’s spread ass crack, sniffed and began to lick. His long, dripping tongue repeatedly lapped up the full length of the boy’s crack. Roy’s mouth dropped and his cock pulsed. Horrified, Ricky fought to break free from Del’s grasp. Skeeter went to town like Ricky’s butt was a bowl of chow, making the boy’s crevice drip with doggie saliva. Whining, he went to work at the butt hole where things tasted extra good, digging into the pink, puckered button. Ricky tensed when he felt the mongrel’s long tongue breach his pulsing hole and slither up into his ass. He thrashed about on Del’s lap as it went extra deep inside him.
“That’s right, Skeeter,” Del cackled, stomping his feet with excitement. “You git that boy pussy all nice ‘n wet fer daddy’s big pecker.”
While he was horrified that a dog’s tongue was up his asshole, Ricky couldn’t help but realize it felt awesome. Roy had eaten him out a few times before fucking him, but his brother’s tongue never went as deep inside. The dog’s muzzle was flush with his ass and the super-long tongue was wriggling around far up into his guts. Hearing Del’s words he forgot all about his stinging cheeks, desperate now to have that huge hillbilly dick up his hole.
Without realizing Ricky wasn’t quite as distraught anymore Roy challenged Del. “Mister, our father is the mayor of this town. And when he finds out what you’ve done to Ricky you’re going to be in big trouble.”
Roy’s threat held no weight. Cackling, Del announced, “I know gawt damned well who your daddy be. Owen-fucking-Talbot, he’s the one been fuckin’ my boy, Tucker.”
“Tucker? You mean Tucker Ashford? Then, you’re not Mr. Johnson?”
“Does I look like some old coot with one foot in the daggone grave? I be Delmont Ashford, Tucker’s daddy,” Del announced proudly, still holding Ricky in place, but without much difficulty now. “Your daddy been fuckin’ my Tucker. So’s now I’m gonna return the favor and fuck your brother’s l’il pussy right here. An’ when I’m done with him, Imma gettin’ your’n too!”’
Roy’s eyes shot wide. He shook his head from side to side, terrified of the idea. In all the times he and Ricky had fooled around it was always Ricky taking dick. He began backing up, repeatedly muttering, “No, no!” As he turned to make a run for it Delmont whistled and commanded Skeeter “git him”. The dog instantly ripped his tongue from Ricky’s hole, eliciting a long moan from the boy, and took off in pursuit. Roy didn’t get far. Making the mistake to look over his shoulder to gauge the animal’s pursuit he tripped and fell. Face down and ass up he was easy prey for Skeeter. The dog growled, quickly sniffed the target and began long-lapping Roy’s struggling ass.
Holding Ricky down with one arm Delmont dug between his burning buttocks, found his bung and stuffed a dirty-nailed finger inside. Skeeter had done an expert job of getting the boy slopped up with doggie saliva. At home, whenever he ran out of lard, that’s the way he prepped his son Tucker before a fuck. Del knew he had a big ole’ dick and if’n he wanted to get up the boy’s hole with no problem it need be extra slick. He’d liked to have taken credit for the idea but in actuality it was his moonshinin’, homegrown pot-smokin’ brothers who’d first gotten their two junkyard dogs to soak young Tuck’s hole before the both of them had their way with him. The grungy stoners had told Del about it one night. Although he pretended outrage Del soon had his own mutt trained to lube Tucker’s hole.
Del worked up to the top knuckle of his fat middle finger, watching Skeeter’s drool slid in, and dug it around in the cute blond’s grasping pussy. He soon added a second and third. Had to stretch the boy out if he intended to get himself up in there. Del was certain his family had the biggest cocks in this town, maybe in the entire county! Of course, he didn’t have much to go by for comparison. In the rest room at Mac’s it had pleased him to see that Owen, although healthily hung, didn’t come close to measuring up. Del figured it had to be all the ‘possum and squirrel him, his Pappy, Grandpappy and brothers ate. Sure was something not to be found on pristine Owen Talbot’s dinner table. That one probably had lobster and caviar for supper, if’n he could find it around these parts.
Ricky was positively writhing on Del’s lap as the man stretched out his teen hole. Mr. Ashford’s fingers were thick as sausages---and not those little links, either. His dick was hard as a nail, leaking youthful pre-cum and rubbing against the man’s hairy thigh. Oh, his ass burned, alright. But the discomfort was minimized by those digits moving in and out of his asshole. He moaned, he sighed and made a mental note to have Roy smack his ass next time they fooled around. All bad boys needed a spanking every now and then, didn’t they? And Ricky was certainly a bad boy.
Suddenly he was rudely shoved from the oaf’s lap and tumbled to the ground, rolling onto his back with his limbs akimbo. From the corner of his eye he saw his brother and the mangy dog, Skeeter. Didn’t look like Roy was fighting so much anymore as the dog ravaged his butt. Ricky figured by now the dog has his tongue all the way up Roy’s hole. Roy sure liked when Ricky ate him out so he was possibly in bliss with Skeeter’s long tongue. Roy wasn’t fighting so much anymore.
Delmont plopped down between the spread of Ricky’s golden thighs. He tore off his shirt and propped himself up with arms to either side of the boy. Despite all else, Delmont had thick and strong arms. Probably from working most of his life at the steel mill, Ricky figured. The large snout of the man’s uncut piece was poised right at the kid’s flexing hole. Ricky was suddenly fearful. His experience up until now had strictly been with Roy. Now there was a big, hairy and ugly man on top of him intent on sticking him with his hog of a cock. Before it looked tempting; now that the crucial moment had arrived, Ricky wasn’t so sure.
“No, No!” he shouted, beating his fists against the brute’s furry chest, “Lemme go! Roy, help me!!!”
Roy heard his brother, but his voice sounded far away. Roy’s eyes were rolled up in their sockets and his was gasping with the unexpected pleasure of Skeeter’s sloppy tongue. His boy dick was leaking copious amounts of seminal fluid. Little did he realize that the hound’s purple pricker had come out of its hairy sheath and was ready to claim his territory.
Del grasped Ricky by the wrists and effortlessly brought them down to the ground. Ricky was flailing about, attempting an impossible escape, hardly aware that his actions were making his bung hole rub against Del’s oozing dick head. “You’re a real spitfire, ain’t you boy? I surely do like ‘em with some spunk. You kin fight me alls you want, but Imma gonna fuck you jest the way your daddy fucked my Tucker.”
Del’s hot, fetid breath washed over Ricky’s clear, cute face. The teen tossed his head from side to side in protest. In a last ditch effort to prevent the inevitable he attempted to reason with Del. “If you let me go now I won’t say anything to my father about you trying to rape me and Roy. I swear.”
Del chuckled. “That’s exactly what I want you to do, to tell that damned varmint Owen Talbot. I want for him to know I done to his baby boy what he done to mines.”
Ricky wasn’t so sure he believed Delmont’s allegations. He couldn’t imagine his father with Tucker. Couldn’t imagine Tucker with his father, or any man, for that matter. He now knew that, short of a miracle, there was little hope for escape. He was going to get fucked by Mr. Ashford’s gigantic dick. And it was going to hurt real bad. He now regretted having earlier admired it.
Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on how you looked at it) Ricky’s mind and asshole were far from in sync. As Del rubbed his large, leaking dickhead against Ricky’s flailing flower the hungry lips smacked outward and nibbled on the massive cockhead. Del ground against the target and then pushed. Ricky let out a mournful wail when the crown punched inside. Dirty hands held his quivering legs apart as the wide cock steadily moved through him, stretching his anal cavity to new proportions. The monstrous man was smacking his drooling gums and looking down at him with keen interest. His greasy hair, which heretofore had been slicked back, now dangled down over his lined forehead. He was a beast, a boor, a man-wolf in Ricky’s frightened eyes. The teen felt the dick reach an obstruction and was grateful it could go no further. But relief was only momentary. Determined Del punched through the kid’s inner sphincter and shoved deeply into his straining guts. Ricky’s eyes popped wide and his mouth opened in a silent scream. Twelve inches of fat redneck cock was pulsing heavily inside him.
“Gonna fuck you now, young’n,” Del announced. Ricky shook his head from side to side with fear evident in his baby blue eyes. Del merely chuckled at his reaction. It was probably that way when Owen Talbot first took his boy, Tucker. Although deep down he suspected otherwise, Del would liked to believe that Tucker had put up a fight rather than give in to that slimy varmint. With these thoughts in mind Delmont began moving his beastly cock through this boy’s straining colon. He pulled back, bringing the boy’s clutching ass lips with him, and quickly shoved back in holding it there for a few moments while the kid’s innards convulsed, and then repeated the fucking process.
Ricky was chewing on his bottom lip as little tears fell from the corners of his eyes. He’d never felt pain such as this. Del released his arms and Ricky immediately began beating his fists against the hairy brute. Del merely chuckled and hooted, “Nothin’ like fuckin’ a little spitfire!” Ricky’s blows against his chest and arms seemed to excite him even further and he began slamming into the boy with even greater vigor. Ricky was sure that his ass was going to split like a smashed watermelon. The grotesque hillbilly was perspiring profusely from his exertion under the full sun and dripping his filthy sweat onto Ricky’s smooth-skinned body. Ricky almost prayed he would lose consciousness and waken when it was all over. The yokel was really going to town on him, ramming his behemoth in and out of his tight little boyhole. If he survived this Ricky didn’t think his hole would ever be the same.
A yelp from nearby caught Del’s attention. Glancing over he saw Skeeter had mounted the brother. “Gawt damn you, Skeeter. I didn’t say you could pork that boy!” But Skeeter had taken possession of Roy, holding the terrified teen down with his paws while he doggy-fucked his hole. Del knew once the canine was knotted in that pussy there was no getting him off until he’d shot his dog slime so he directed his attention back to Ricky. His boy had glanced over to see what the commotion was about and appeared horrified at the sight of his brother being taken by the flea-bitten mongrel. Maybe there were worse things than a hairy hillbilly’s foot long club.
Del repeatedly penetrated young Ricky with his full length while the boy squealed in agony. He could plunk himself across the forehead for not having brought that little tape recorder his brother Cletus had bought him for Christmas one year. Danged stupid gift, Del thought at the time. What in tarnation was he going to do with a tape machine? Cletus prob’ly done stole it from the general store, anyways. But it sure would have come in handy now. He could’ve taped all of little Ricky’s cryin’ and groanin’ and sent it on to Owen Talbot so’s daddy could hear his boy as his tight pussy had gotten broken by none other than Delmont Ashford!
Revenge aside, Del was thoroughly enjoying this cutie’s boy cunt. It was all taut and gripping, the way Tucker’s used to be afore Owen, Mac, Huck and Lordie knew who else had gotten into him. Not that fucking Tucker wasn’t to his liking. Heck, no! He sure wasn’t sending Tuck away when his boy climbed up atop him in his rickety-ass ole bed and rode his cock like it was a pogo stick. Often times he felt another fella’s load up on in there. Always figgered it was either from his Pappy, Grandpappy or mebbe one or both of his no-account moonshinin’, pot-smokin’ brothers. Never expected ir to be Owen-fuckin’-Talbot’s jizz he might be fuckin’ into. Just the thought incensed him enough to rail into little Ricky with even more vigor.
The blond’s little pussy was a-twitchin’ like crazy around his big ole pole and stimulating the hell out of all its nerve endings. The boy was still moaning, groaning and there was even a bit of whining going on there, but it didn’t seem to be quite as much. His brother, on the other hand, was getting a rough ride from Skeeter and letting everybody know it. Damned dog, getting there before he could. Couldn’t much blame the mutt. There weren’t many bitches up in these hills. All the Ashford dogs, his brother’s and father’s, were male. He guessed he’d just have to take Skeeter’s seconds.
Ricky had taken to pushing back against Del’s thrusts, as if attempting to dispel the abusive cock. His efforts had the opposite effect, however. He was actually making it easier for Del to plow through his straining cunt. Grimacing, he gritted his even white teeth and tore at the tufts of hair on the bear’s chest. His actions, however, only seemed to entice Del to fuck him more savagely. The Neanderthal was sweating all over him and his liver lips were pulled back from his teeth, displaying an obvious lack of oral hygiene. There was nothing alluring about Tucker’s dad. But, oh, that cock!
The more Del fucked, the more Ricky’s squeals subsided. He’d worked open the boy’s pussy sufficiently so that what had formerly been pain now became pleasure. Each time the huge cockhead bottomed out up in the boy’s belly he emitted a sigh of satisfaction. His hands were no longer beating against Del’s chest, but instead caressing his hirsute torso and big, barreled belly. Oh, it still hurt. But it hurt oh-so-good. Del grinned, satisfied that he’d fucked Owen Talbot’s son into submission.
Ricky’s pussy actually seemed to be sucking on his monstrous, pulsating prick. The kid was practically cooing with contentment. His blue eyes were all glazed over as if he’d taken too many hits of Horace and Cletus’ homegrown weed. His face was flushed and glazed with perspiration. Spread out there by the pond under Delmont’s big body he looked almost angelic. Along with that tape recorder Del darned himself for not also having the old Polaroid tucked up on the top shelf in the kitchen so’s he could take a picture of this view and shove it in Owen Talbot’s face. ‘This is what your boy looks like, Owen-fuckin’-Tabot with my big ole’ dick up in his pretty little pussy,’ he’d have told him. Owen Talbot would have turned white and positively shitted his expensive slacks.
Roy howled. So did Skeeter. Owen knew the mongrel was getting his nut, shooting the other kid full of his litter. It would still be awhile before Roy got any relief. It took a bit for the dog’s knot to go down. Meanwhile, Ricky was squirming around in the buffalo grass. He tossed his head from side to side, tearing up the grass with hands to either side of him and panting wildly. With a small cry his healthy boy dick began shooting skads of creamy cum up over Del’s hanging belly. His asshole went ape-shit-wild on Del’s dick, grasping and pulling on the working meat. Del experienced his own pivotal moment, stiffened and fired bolts of white lightning inside the teen’s womb.
Drained, Del fell heavily atop young Ricky, who wrapped his legs and arms around the bestial mountain man and laid a score of little kisses along the side of his grizzled face. Although ugly as fuck, Mr. Ashford had made him feel something he’d never felt with Roy. Del’s large, dirty palms were all over Ricky’s back and buttocks in post coital bliss. “Tuck’s the luckiest boy in the county to have you for a daddy,” Ricky gushed and, to prove his statement, he mashed his lips against Del’s soup coolers and kissed him with true ardor. Del’s mouth was sour, his tongue fat and swollen, but Ricky couldn’t have been more impassioned if he was kissing a fairy-tale Prince. He was Delmont’s boy from now on.
Delmont was on the rise. He managed to disentangle himself from Ricky and advanced on Roy. With fear in his eyes Roy attempted to crawl away. But his efforts were in vain. Del easily flipped him over on his back and took him in missionary position. Luckily for Roy, Skeeter was a big shooter and had left his shitter nice and slick. Not that the boy didn’t howl when Del skewered him, but it made the entry more bearable. Glancing over a hairy shoulder he gave a whistle and Skeeter responded by making a beeline for Ricky. The boy saw what was happening and obediently got down on forearms and knees with his ass cocked out and gave no struggle when the dog mounted him.
With brotherly rivalry rearing its ugly head, Ricky wasn’t about to let Roy have something that he hadn’t.
