A gay story: In It for Life Ch. 13 In It For Life (Prison Island Sequel)
13.
Francesco snuck under the blanket, hoping Karl was still soundly asleep. The guy was snoring, so it was all good. He fought to relax, but even after a shower, he still imagined that he stank of cum. Also, there was so much still left in his ass, Don’s gift, and all the washing he had tried hadn’t helped to get rid of it all. He had had to throw the shirt, and Don mock-courteously informed him where he would find some clothes to change into.
Karl stirred in his sleep and turned toward him. Even in his sleep, he reached for Francesco and pulled him close. “Did you take a shower?” he asked drowsily.
“Yeah, and I took one of your t-shirts.”
“No problem. Sorry about your shower, though. I want to fuck you.”
Francesco tensed. “Not a good time, Karl. I’m beat.”
“I wasn’t asking you,” Karl insisted and turned him with his ass to him.
Sure. So many things alike about father and son, and still, Francesco thought Karl was a good guy, or at least a better version than his dad. All those things Karl had said about how he didn’t want to be seen as a faggot by others irked him and pushed him to resist. That and how his ass was still oozing daddy-in-law’s cum. It was a too dangerous game to play. “Fuck off, Karl. Stop being such an asshole.”
Karl hugged him hard. “I’m not letting you go.”
“Then why are you being stupid right now? I’m not in the mood.”
“Fine.” Karl pushed him away, making him fall off the bed.
Francesco propped his hands against the edge of the bed and looked at him. Karl was working his jaw. It almost made Francesco yell the truth at him. But he didn’t want to lose the fucker, not now, not in the future. He stood and walked stiffly toward the bathroom. He needed to clean his ass again in hope that he would wipe away all traces of Karl’s dad. Only then, he would allow himself to be used like usual.
“We’re not even married, and you no longer put out.”
The bitter tone made him stop mid-way. “You’re an idiot. I should really consider if I want to be stuck with you for life or not.”
He slammed the door to the bathroom loud enough for Karl to get the message. Then he crouched in the bathtub and grabbed the shower head.
***
He was barely two minutes in of torturing his ass with the improvised enema head when Karl walked into the bathroom. “What the fuck?” he said through his teeth. “Do you really need to take a leak right now? Hold it in a little, you’re not two.”
Karl leaned against the wall and watched him. “Getting your ass ready for me, Cesco?”
“How did you guess?” Francesco said wryly.
“I know you love me,” Karl said with a boyish smirk. After so much that had happened, maybe it was good that he could still smile like that.
Francesco snickered and looked away. Still, he needed to get that ass properly cleaned. “Just go back to bed. I’ll be with you in a minute.”
“I want you now,” Karl insisted.
“Don’t be a stupid stubborn ass.”
Karl ignored him and climbed in the bathtub with him. Francesco grunted as the thing was pushed deeper inside him. He watched as Karl turned the knob and increase the pressure; the next moment, he was panting as his insides were flooded. Karl kissed his ear. “All right, now, hold it in, and go sit on the toilet.”
Francesco nodded and held on to Karl to climb out of the tub and put his ass down. Karl knelt in front of him and massaged his belly. “I can do it myself,” he grunted. “You don’t have to–”
Karl grabbed his head and kissed him sharply. He was using both tongue and teeth, and he seemed to want to hurt him. But still, he was hungry and Francesco keened into his mouth as he let go of the water inside him. Don’s cum down the drain. That should have been a sight, but he didn’t have time for that.
***
“You feel so good inside,” Karl praised him while riding him on all fours and holding his ankles high like he was afraid Francesco would suddenly decide to run. “It’s like your ass is making its own lube.”
He had an idea what Karl meant by that, and he was astonished. There was no way Don had shot that deep, or maybe everything was in his own head. He hadn’t planned on having dad and son meet in his ass in that manner, but there he was. Karl grunted and pushed deeper and deeper.
“Fuck, Karl,” Francesco whispered, “your cock… is too deep.”
“There’s no such thing as too deep.” Karl said each word like he meant it. “I told you. I’d make you pregnant if I could. But I can live with breeding you every day.”
That was good, then. At least, he didn’t oppose to the marriage thing, and that was what mattered to make sure Don didn’t get revenge on his son like the scumbag he was. Karl fucked him harder, making it difficult for him to keep his balance.
“I’ll fuck you like the old times,” Karl promised. “I’ll put load after load in you until you look pregnant with my cum.”
“Stop saying weird shit,” Francesco spat at him. “Just cum already.”
Karl slowed down on purpose. “Nah, I want you to feel me a little longer.”
Francesco sighed and let his head rest against the bed. “Okay, but I’m really tired. Be a bit considerate for a change, asshole. This isn’t how I expected to spend my day.” Or night. Not planned to get fucked by another asshole he didn’t care to know that well. But hell, that was his life now, and for Karl, for keeping him safe — and himself sane — for as long as he could, that was the only important thing, and he didn’t plan on letting go.
Karl pulled him near and felt his chest, being maddeningly brutal with his nips. Francesco bit back a pained moan and taking advantage that Karl had finally let go of his ankles and he had a bit of leverage, he grabbed the other’s head to bring him closer. Then he bit on Karl’s fat bottom lip with everything he had.
He half-expected punishment for the pain inflicted, but that didn’t come to pass. Instead, Karl forced his tongue in and licked the inside of his mouth, making him grunt in desperation. It was a sign that Karl still needed him, and as much as that appeared to be so stupid now, he needed it, the confirmation that he wasn’t doing all that dumb shit for nothing.
“Ready for me, Cesco?” Karl breathed into his ear. “Ready to take my jizz?”
“Always, fucker, always,” Francesco replied and bucked his ass back hard and short, and that seemed to be enough, because Karl lost it the next second and held him by the hips to pump him full of cum.
They fell on the bed, and Karl rolled away from him.
“See? I’m still putting out, you don’t have to worry about stupid shit,” Francesco said, as soon as he got his voice back. “Husband,” he added and snorted. The word sounded so weird. Yeah, it was going to be a fucking parody all right, but daddy-in-law had his own theories about what had to be done so that he could score high in polls and whatnot. Francesco had to consider himself to blame for putting ideas in the man’s head, but since it had been for his and Karl’s survival, he didn’t exactly have many rights to complain.
“Stop it with the weird shit,” Karl growled at him.
“Yeah, okay. But we need to go through with it. And, you know, I’m going to be with you every day. And you’ll be able to fuck me whenever you feel like it. Sure, you might get bored–”
His words got muffled as Karl pressed him to the bed and kissed him. “I’ll never get bored. I told you so. Get it through your head, Cesco.”
“So,” Francesco drawled the words, “does that mean that I have no hopes of becoming rich by divorcing your ass?”
His joke landed on a slippery slope. The look in Karl’s eyes gave him the chills for a moment, like during those times from long ago. “I suppose I’m going to sign some prenup or some shit, right? I was just joking.”
Karl caught his chin and forced his mouth open. He used it to push his tongue inside, then he pulled back suddenly. “Don’t ever joke about leaving me, Cesco. I’m not the kind of guy to tell that kind of shit, get it?”
“I thought you didn’t even want to get married,” Francesco protested. “Now, you’re an asshole just ’cause I joke about a thing that’ll never happen. Unless you want to, of course,” he added for good measure.
A part of him wanted to goad Karl into saying something about why he didn’t want to be out in the open, or lash at him, or do anything else but stare at him with those empty eyes that used to scare the shit out of him.
“Once it’s done, it’s done,” Karl replied, his eyes hardened and cold. “You asked for it. But after, come hell or high water, you’re never going to leave, get it?”
Francesco pondered for a moment. “I kind of remember you making the same shitty threats. When we were on the island. You kept saying the weirdest stuff, like how I’d never get away from you or something. I really thought you were going to order me kidnapped.” He tried to keep his tone light and still make fun of those times, but his heart was in his throat as he spoke.
“Told you, Cesco. Nothing like that. I just thought,” he said, and the coldness disappeared from his eyes as he moved away and lay by Francesco’s side, “that I’d get away from my fucking dad, and that I’d show you a life like you’ve never dreamed of.”
“On the run, chased by the Secret Services?” Francesco asked. “Sure thing, I’ve never dreamed of that. I had no idea who you were.” He stopped for a moment. “Or daddy.”
“You weren’t supposed to know at the time. I was stupid to think that I’d manage to get away from him. He’s just everywhere, one step ahead.”
Make it one hundred.
Karl continued, oblivious to what was going through Francesco’s head. “He got to you. He said a few words, and you were like a puppy thrown a little bone. I’m telling you the truth, Cesco. Stay clear of that snake.”
“It’s not very nice to call him that,” Francesco said. “And he didn’t get to me. He just offered a solution that doesn’t involve us being pulled apart. So, I’d say that it somehow worked for the best, regardless of how much you hate your old man.”
Karl scoffed and turned his head away. “Didn’t you hate your old man, too? He fucked you in the ass.”
Francesco drew an inhalation and then released it slowly. Getting this stubborn ass to stick to the plan was going to be a major pain in the butt. “He wasn’t my old man, I told you.”
“Good. At least, there’s that,” Karl said matter-of-factly.
Sure it was. Karl had managed to hurt that man, and badly, as Francesco remembered. Sure, nothing he had gotten a confirmation for, but they both knew the truth even without saying it out loud.
“Is it going to be tough to talk to your fiancée? I mean, your ex? I can be there when you talk to her,” he offered.
“I’m not going to talk to her. Since this is all daddy’s idea,” Karl spat the word in disgust, “let him deal with the shitstorm.”
“Would you have gone along with it? Marrying her? Moving into another big ass house with her? Having kids?” Francesco had a wish to get hurt tonight, or he was just his usual crazy self. He was too tired to think which was what.
Karl turned his back to him. “Fuck you, Cesco,” he mumbled.
“Yeah, right, fuck me,” Francesco replied. “That’s all you ever do.”
He was mad, but he let his feelings aside from now. He wrapped one arm around his soon-to-be husband, as crazy as that sounded and fell asleep, too. Karl took his hand and linked his fingers through, while holding it pressed against his chest. Some people just weren’t good with words, it seemed.
tbc