Watching the big-titted blonde straddling my chest, peeing the cum off my face, feeling yet another stranger shove his big, fat cock into me and pound my ass, the question arose in my head.

“How did I get here? To this point?”

I didn’t have much time to ponder the question. The gorgeous, black stud who moments earlier had rammed the voluptuous blonde’s pussy, shoved his throbbing cock down my throat.

“Suck him dry, cum-boy!” the blonde screamed in ecstasy.

There was no need to suck anything as the black cock fucked my throat balls-deep. If I weren’t emptied and fucked dry, I would have cum just by the deep thrusts down the back of my throat. I felt the guy pounding my ass grab my hips tighter and speed up his thrust to my insides. I knew he was going to blow his nuts deep into me.

“Oh, fuck! You’re such a great slut!” he exhaled as he emptied himself deep down my guts in one final deep thrust.

I could feel the cock in my mouth twitch as his balls slammed into my chin one final time before I felt the ecstasy of his thick load deep down my throat. I had cum squirting out of my nose, and as the fat cock was pulled from my ass, I could feel a river of cum from unknown men flowing out from my guts. The black guy who had just fucked my throat bent down to my face and said in a deep voice.

“Rest, slut. I’m coming back for more in a week…”

The roll of 100-dollar bills tossed onto the table bought back a lot of self-respect and served as an answer to my initial question.

. . .

I grew up on a family farm in northern Minnesota, far removed from what you would consider civilization. We mainly grew wheat and grass in the summer, and wintertime was spent running the timber plantation. Long, endless hauls down icy winter roads. We also kept a herd of horses, primarily for recreational purposes. Still, a few Clydesdales were kept for hauling timber where machines were unusable and, frankly, because we enjoyed the manual labour.

There were a few neighbouring farms, but it was a good hour's drive to the nearest town and about two and a half hours to the nearest city. Mom and Dad had my sister Tawnya and my brother Stan when Mom was just eighteen and me just two years later. Dad, six years older than Mom, was the undisputed alpha leader of our small herd and ran the place with a firm but friendly hand. Mom was a workhorse and the glue that kept family matters running smoothly.

Stan moved to the city this summer, just shy of my eighteenth birthday, and now preferred Stanley since he thought a little bit higher of himself than he did his farmer family.

Tawnya spent most of her time tormenting me and harassing the staff whenever possible. She was a short but feisty girl, and her temper made her uglier than she needed to be.

Life on the farm was enjoyable, but I often felt bored due to the isolation from people. Fortunately, my dad had hired a few full-time farmhands so that I could take a break from my family. And there was Chuck, who had been with us forever and served as an all-purpose man but mainly kept the timber logging crew in order.

I loved them, but like all families, they could drive me crazy.

With Christmas coming up, we’d also be expecting my uncle George, dad’s younger brother, and his wife Chloe, and mom’s older sister Shelley with her twin daughters Monique and Shaquila. Shelley had long been divorced from her ex-husband Freddie as he pretty much had fucked half her friends since long before they got married. Mom blamed it on his Dominican heritage. Shelley never bothered getting re-married as she “couldn’t stand the neediness of the weaker sex.” Her bitterness lay thick on her.

Uncle George and Chloe would always come to our place about a week before Christmas. My uncle was a few years younger than my dad and had a slim build. He was a handsome man with almost a feminine beauty. Chloe was stunning! Her dark skin, curvy body, and just the right amount of defined muscle raised one question: How did George fool her into marrying him?

It was always a big deal when Uncle George came to visit. Dad had been in a good mood all morning, and Mom had the kitchen running with all its flashes and bangs. I was full and content when I retreated to my room that evening. Chloe also called it a night, and we walked up the giant staircase together. She caught me staring at her ass but just gave me one of her mesmerizing smiles.

“You’ve turned into such a handsome young man, Ritchie,” she said, “I think we’ll have lots of fun this Christmas!”

She kissed my cheek and whispered good night. Her hand gently brushed my crotch, and I decided it was imaginary or, at best, by accident. The look she sent me over her shoulder as she headed down the hallway to their guestroom confused me slightly. I kept staring at her ass until she closed the door behind her.

I struggled to find sleep that night. Chloe’s touch to my crotch and that curvy ass gave me quite the hard-on. After a couple of hours of twisting and turning, I decided to grab a beer, watch some porn and jerk off.

The house was quiet even though it was just ten thirty. It’s a farmer’s life, after all. Halfway down the stairs, I heard a noise from the kitchen. It sounded like someone was crying. I didn’t want to disturb anyone, nor did I really feel like comforting anyone, so I snuck up to the kitchen entrance as quietly as I could manage.

Up until that night, I had jerked off fantasizing about the girls from high school or streaming porn off the usual sites, some girl-on-girl action, you know, like most eighteen-year-old boys.

It wasn’t the sight of Mom naked on the big kitchen table, legs spread and tied to the table, her curvy tits bouncing, that blew my mind. It wasn’t the sight of Uncle George bent over the table, face-planted in Mom’s pussy, and half his arm stuck up her ass either.

It was the sight of my dad’s muscular back, his strong arms spreading Uncle George’s ass cheeks, sweat pouring down his ass-crack as his balls slammed into my uncle with violent thrusts of his hips that made my jaw drop, and my heart stop. No one was crying; Mom’s moans and my uncle’s whimpers had tricked me. George’s feet were lifted from the floor with each of my dad’s thrusts; he whimpered like a little girl each time my dad’s balls hit his, and his feet slipped in a pool of his own cum each time they touched the floor.

Each glimpse of my dad’s cock going deep inside my uncle, it must have been a good nine or ten inches of fat meat pumping into him, made me dizzy. Mom arched on the table, my uncle’s arm hammering into her insides.

“Yeah! Right there, you little fucker!” she screamed at him.

My uncle’s limp cock flopped around with the odd drop of cum still oozing out, spilling all over the place. Mom let out a huge scream, and her arching body trembled. My dad pumped vigorously into his brother, his hands looking like he was trying to tear the poor man’s ass in two.

“Yeah, you little bitch! You’re gonna make me cum!” he moaned.

“Oooouu! Fill my guts with your cum!” my uncle whimpered in his girly voice.

Dad slammed into him violently. He grabbed his hips and pulled him onto his fat cock. He let out a deep guttural groan and arched his back. I heard myself whimper when Dad pulled his cock out. A thick flow of cum flowed out of my uncle’s ass, down his balls and legs and onto the growing pool of cum on the floor. My Dad’s cock hung between his legs, reaching halfway down to his knees. I could see big drops of sweat running down his huge balls. He was built like a bull. I was hypnotized by his swinging cock, cum still dripping from the massive head.

I felt myself drool.

Dad lifted George by his hair and planted his face at my mother’s pussy.

“Open your mouth, bitch!” he ordered, and my uncle obeyed.

Mom moaned as she started pissing right into his open mouth, and he swallowed frantically.

I could feel my nuts tighten, and I headed for the stairs. My knees gave in halfway, and I stumbled down on all fours. My cock jerked, and my balls exploded. I looked down at my cock sticking out of my boxers, the pool of cum on the stairs and panicked.

The three people in the kitchen could come out in the hallway any minute and find me there in a pool of cum. That's when I heard Anabelle's voice from the top of the stairs.

“Don’t worry, Richard…I’ll take care of that and that mess in the kitchen—whatever your uncle hasn’t licked up already.”

Anabelle was our housekeeper and had been with us for as long as I could remember. She’d seen this before.

I felt my face turn red, sweat pouring down my face. She just laughed.

“Awww, poor young Richard busted his nuts in front of his babysitter? Get off to bed, boy. I got this covered.”

***

I woke up early and grabbed the book from my nightstand. It was one of Stephen King's novels, and reading The Master of Horror was one of my favourite pastimes. As the incurable morning bird, Dad came into my room in his usual cheerful morning spirit shortly after, wearing nothing but his robe.

“Rise and shine!” he said. “Mom wants the rest of the Christmas decorations up by noon, so we’re on a mission to the attic!”

I wasn't too happy about being interrupted from doing nothing, but I wasn't about to get into it with my dad over nothing, so I reluctantly agreed to help him out.

The attic wasn’t my favourite space in our house, especially after letting Stephen King into my head, but with Dad being there, I didn’t mind too much, and I wasn’t about to let him know I was afraid of the dark. Our attic was dark and covered in dust and cobwebs like the horror writer's stories.

“Can you crawl under that table and dig out the remaining boxes of Christmas decorations?” he asked.

I was annoyed that my dad couldn't do it himself. I crawled under the old dining room table and pulled out the boxes buried underneath it. I passed three boxes to my dad and then grabbed the fourth one. As I tried to get out, I almost hit my head on the table and let out a small yelp. I scratched my head and looked up. Dad’s robe had slipped to the side, and I could see his cock swinging back and forth. Even in a semi-erect state, it almost reached halfway down to his knees.

“Yeah, the boxes I could handle myself, son, but this thing here needs special attention!”

“What the fuck, man!” I muttered as I realized I was stuck under the table and had nowhere to retreat.

“Fuck?” he said. “Yeah, perhaps…I was more thinking you could suck me off for now…”

He effectively blocked me from getting out from under the table, and I was stuck in a pile of boxes, cobwebs, and dust. But more so…I was intrigued by this swelling cock staring me right in the face. Before I sensed what I was doing, my hand was cupping his balls.

“Yeah, that’s right, son. You liked what you saw last night, huh?”

Shit! He’d seen me drooling over him fucking my uncle’s ass?! I let out a gasp and tried to look at anything but my dad’s swollen cock head, but I was stuck between shame, fear and the need to feel his warm meat in my mouth. Without really noticing, I started stroking him, just like I would my own cock in the dark of my room. He moaned. His balls mesmerized me, and I noticed they were hairless, unlike mine. I started licking them while his shaft rested on my cheek. I cupped them in my hand, and their sheer weight made me whimper. I started jerking his shaft while sucking on his balls when I noticed my cock was swelling in my boxers. I looked up at my dad’s face and saw his eyes were closed, but a smirk had grown big on his face.

I knew I wanted his cock in my mouth and was already drooling just by the thought. I licked around the head for a bit to get the taste of it. He was already leaking pre-cum, and I licked it up like a thirsty little dog; then I slipped his head into my mouth, and he sighed of lust. I leaned in and felt his cock hit the back of my mouth.

“Yeah, you little bitch,” he said and grabbed my head and pulled me out from underneath the table, not letting his cock out of my mouth for even a second.

“Relax your fucking throat,” he said and pushed further into my mouth.

I grabbed his hips, attempting to push him off me before I gagged, and he pulled out a little. Unaware, I held his hips tight. My god! I wanted this! I started pulling him back in, and before I knew it, my mouth was fucking my dad’s cock. I had both my hands firmly grabbing his ass and hips and making him fuck me!

He grabbed the back of my head, and in a violent thrust, he forced half his shaft into my mouth and down my throat. I gagged a little, but before I knew it, another big thrust sent another inch of his cock deeper down my throat before a third big thrust had half his cock deep inside me. I had tears running down my cheeks as he started fucking my throat violently, and with each thrust, I felt my balls getting closer to exploding. Sitting on my knees and having my face fucked by my dad wasn’t my first sexual fantasy, but at that moment, it was my only desire. I wanted him to fuck me senseless, and I wanted him to cum down my throat, and I wanted to swallow each drop. And I wanted him to fuck my mouth over and repeatedly and…

My shorts exploded!

Everything went black as I felt my cock explode inside my boxers! I fell backwards and landed on my back.

“Oh, you little slut!” he growled as his erect cock started shooting long streams of thick cum all over me.

One single thick strand of cum landed on my lips, and I quickly licked it off. The sticky saltiness was a pleasant surprise, but the disappointment of not having it all shot down my throat must have put a look on my face that he confused with disapproval.

“Sorry, son, I was just so fucking horny after seeing you drool over your uncle’s ass last night; I didn’t know what to do.”

He tied his robe up and headed down the ladder with three of the boxes.

“Do you mind grabbing the last one when you’re ready?” he smirked, “Oh, and no need to tell Mom about this, right?”

I was lying on the attic floor covered in cum. Not only my dad’s cum, but my own as well. I guess he hadn’t noticed my cum drenched shorts nor my lust for him to put his cock back in my mouth.

He apologized?! And told me not to tell Mom? What was I going to tell her anyway? That my dad made me cum from fucking my mouth? Hell no, no way was I telling Mom I loved being face-fucked. And that I'd tasted cum before I'd tasted pussy.

I grabbed the last box, headed down the ladder and shut the loft hatch. I went to my room and put on some clothes. I got halfway down the stairs when I met Chloe on her way up from breakfast. She looked at me and smiled.

“You’ve got something on your cheek,” she said.

What? I was so dizzy I’d forgotten to wash my face and still had Dad’s cum running down my face.

“Don’t worry, hon,” she smiled and wiped it off with her thumb, which she sucked in between her full, red lips.

She let out a little moan of approval and a small cheerful laugh and headed upstairs. I could swear she wiggled that ass just a little more than usual.

The kitchen was filled with laughter as most of my family finished breakfast. Uncle George sat between Mom and Dad and was made to oblige to their every need and command.

“Thank you, Patrica! For yet another wonderfully crafted meal!” he smiled at my mother.

“Oh, thank you, but this is all Anabelle’s magic,” she smiled, “Be so kind and pass me the butter, will you?”

I thought Anabelle’s magic had worked wonders in the kitchen as well, and I sat down at my usual spot, remembering how my mother’s urine had been flowing to the floor in that same spot only hours earlier. I looked down, wondering if I’d be wading in that pool of cum from last night, but all I saw was my feet on a spotless floor.

“Hey, Ritchie!” my dad barked, “Stan’s coming home today, so I’ll be going to the town to pick him up later. You want to join me?”

I looked up at my dad’s face for the first time since the attic. He didn’t blink or flinch but kept steady eyes on me.

“Sure, Dad,” I said.

“Hey, Dad, what about me? Can I come too? I haven’t seen Stan in ages!” Tawnya pleaded.

“Sorry, hon, you have to help me with the Christmas decorations,” Mom replied.

“So, dweeb-boy there gets to go, but not me?” she said, clearly annoyed with Mom and me.

I knew...