Cutter09

Mothers Don't Always Know Best

I could swear I hear one of those hospital air pump things. No, I must be dreaming. But why would I be dreaming about a hospital?

Now, this is more like it. Oh yeah. A girl getting fucked. Yeah there you go. Fuck her good. Oh my. She's a young one. That's right little girl, spread those legs. Let the man slide his cock into your tight little pussy. She looks familiar. Wish I knew who she was. I'd love a crack at that young pussy. She can't be more than ten or eleven.

There's that damn machine again. Pumping air, and pinging away. Now voices too, and somebody crying. Why can't they just let me sleep, and dream about something else?

Oh nice. Another sex dream. Mmm this time I'm getting a blow job. Mmm a good one too. Oh shit. It's a boy. He looks familiar too. Mmm, but he knows how to suck a cock. Yeah, stand up, let me suck yours too. Oh nice dick. Pretty big, but looks barely old enough to cum. Well, I guess I'll soon find out. Push it all the way in my mouth. I can't seem to be able to grab your butt right now, because I sure would do it if I could. Great! You can cum, and tasty too. Nice load for a kid.

Ut oh. The little girl is getting fucked again, but it's a different guy. She really does look familiar, I just can't seem to remember where I've met her. But she's a little hottie. Look at her throwing her pussy up to that guy. He's kinda dirty looking. She's so pretty, why is she letting that thug fuck her?

Sure. Bring that nice dick over here, I'll suck it again. Mmm, yummy. Yeah, look into my eyes as I pleasure your dick. What? I can't hear you. I see your lips moving but… Wait… it looks like you're saying, "I'm sorry Dad" Why are you sorry? Better yet, why are you calling me Dad?

There's that damn machine again, and more crying. Who the hell's crying? Was that a tear that just landed on my hand? Yeah, I think it was. And two small hands wrapped around mine. This is one fucked up dream.

"Please wake up Dad."

There they go again. Calling me Dad. Wait… Shit! Now I recognize the boy in my dream. My son…Yeah, my son… Oh damn. What's his name? Uh… Mike. No. Mark! My son Mark. Yeah that's it! But why would I be dreaming about sucking my son's dick. I mean, I liked it and all, but I shouldn't dream about stuff like that.

Stop crying Mark and let me go back to sleep.

Now, who's this woman? I don't like her. Why do I not like her? I don't even know her. Oh Wait… Oh yeah there you go. She's gonna get fucked too. Jesus! Look at the size of that cock. No wonder she's begging for it. What did she just say? Shit she just told that other guy to go fuck her daughter. Ahh… she's the mother of the little girl. Damn the little girl is getting her third dicking from three different dicks. Why would her mother allow that, for Christ's sake? She's only ten and the mother is telling the guy to fuck her. Yuck, why do I feel sick to my stomach. I usually like watching a woman get a big cock like that. And the little girl on the bed beside her, she's liking the dick in her too. Look at her pulling on the guy's ass trying to get him deeper. Of course his dick is only about half the size of the one her mother's getting. This should be a big turn on for me, but I'm still feeling sick.

"Dad? Can you hear me? Oh God, Dad, Please wake up."

Not now Mark, I'm dreaming. Of course, I can't tell him I'm dreaming of him sucking my dick again. Damn he is cute with a dick in his mouth, especially mine. Here it comes Mark, swallow that load. I want to kiss you, but I can't because my hands are tied. Wait. What? Yeah, my hands are tied. Why are my hands tied? These are some weird fucking dreams I'm having.

"I'm afraid he's been out too long, Mark."

"No! I know he can hear me. Dad! You've got to wake up! Please Dad. Squeeze my hand. Do it. Now. Show them you can hear me."

There Mark. Happy now? I squeezed it and even waved it around a bit. Now can I get back to my dreams?

Shit. It's that woman again. I don't like her. Why doesn't she just go away? Get out of my dreams. Look, see, your boyfriend and those other thugs have guns. Just take your creepy friends, and get out of my house. Wait. My house?… Well, of course it's my house. My son and I are there… If it's my house, why is she and her thug friends here?

Tell her no, Mark. That's a good boy. You definitely don't want to stick your dick in that little girl. I've seen the other's fuck her. Lord only knows what kind of diseases they passed on to her. Yeah, push her away. Yes, you're right, she is a fucking bitch, but you shouldn't talk that way to your sis… FUCK!! She IS your sister. Then… Then… That woman is my wife? Why would my wife bring these men into our home? What's he doing with that gun. NO! Got to protect Mark. I'll kick him, that's all I can do. I think I heard his kneecap snap. Fuck! He shot me. Kick him again. Can't let him kill Mark. Fuck, another shot… Run Mark!

It was all real. I'm not dreaming. Then… that machine I hear is… yes, I can feel a tube in my mouth. It's pumping air into me. I'm in a hospital. But Mark is alive, that's all that matters. I know he's ok. He's been talking to me. I can feel his hand in mine right now. He's ok.

"I just have a few more questions for you."

Who's that?

"I've answered all your questions a hundred times. Now leave me alone!"

I have to open my eyes to see who's bothering Mark, so I can kick his ass as soon as I get out of this bed. He looks official, probably a detective. Can't talk with this tube in my mouth, I'll just glare at him threateningly.

"I thought you said he was still unconscious," the detective said pointing at me.

"DAD! Oh thank God. You're back! DOC!"

"Ok, now that you're back among the living, you can answer some questions."

"Detective, I doubt that I can help you anymore than Mark has already. It's all still a bit fuzzy. They tell me I was out for eight days, It's only been two days since I woke up. I only remember flashes. Maybe it will come back to me."

"We really need you to corroborate Mark's story."

Corroborate? Detective, Mark does not lie. If he told you they flew in the window on blue wings, you should start looking for a trail of blue feathers."

"Cute, but not helpful. How many were there?" the detective pressed.

"I remember at least four. There could have been more, but I know for sure of four. Now you answer a question. Where's my daughter? No one will tell me anything."

"Uh, we're still looking into that. How did they get in?"

"I… um, I think my wife brought them in. I don't know why."

"Uh huh… Besides shooting you, and holding your family captive, can you remember anything else they did?"

"I know three of them raped my daughter. And the fourth one fucked my wife."

"You didn't use the term rape. Does that mean you think it was consensual?"

I could only hang my head and nod.

"Anything else?"

"Isn't that enough? What do you want from me Detective? Do you want me to say they destroyed my life? Well they certainly did that. Can you charge them with that? If not… then fuck off."

"I think I have all I need. But as they say, don't leave town."

He managed to escape the flying bedpan I aimed at his head.

***

A week later, Mark and I exited a taxi in front of our house and fought our way through a crowd of reporters. I had to tear the 'Crime Scene' tape from the door of our house, before we could enter.

Mark had stayed by my side every minute while I was in the hospital. This was the first time either of us had been in the house since the incident. I felt an instant chill run down my spine, and I believe Mark did as well. In the living room I saw two huge blood stains. I knew one was mine. I didn't know about the other. Something happened here after I got shot.

"Dad. Do we have to stay here?" Mark asked with tears in his eyes.

I could see him visibly shaking. "No Mark, we don't. Go pack a bag. Grab plenty of clothes, I don't know when we'll be back."

I had loved this house. It was a two storey colonial. Four thousand square feet of fond memories, now it held only one big ass nightmare.

Entering the master bedroom, I suddenly flash on my wife in the bed, with some stranger between her legs. Arms wrapped around him in a passionate embrace as he plowed her with his big cock. Beside her, my daughter. Similar expression on her face as she is getting fucked by another stranger. Her hands gripping his ass trying to pull him deeper into her little pussy.

I tried to shut out the visions by closing my eyes, but they were still there. Burned into my mind. Why did this happen?

Then I noticed the wall safe, open and empty.

I packed a bag and met Mark at the bottom of the stairs. In the garage, I noticed my wife's car gone, but mine was still there.

The reporters rushed to the garage as the door rose behind us. More camera flashes and yelling questions as they surrounded the car.

"Get the fuck out of my way, or I swear to God, I'll run you over," I yelled at them.

We checked into an nice hotel with room service. I needed to decide what to do. Neither of us wanted to go back to that house.

I called the detective to let him know our whereabouts, and told him that the safe had been cleaned out.

"That was in the report. What we don't know is how much was in it."

"Twenty five thousand I keep on hand for emergencies."

"Must be expecting a big emergency," the detective quipped.

"Look asshole. I own seven restaurants. If something happens to one of them in the middle of the night, I'm more likely to get workmen to respond quickly with a little cash incentive."

"I see. Does your wife have access to any other money?"

"Just the household account, about ten thousand."

"Mr. Kutcher. We're on the same side here. I want to get to the bottom of this as soon as possible. I would expect you to be a little more cooperative and less combative."

"I am being cooperative. But you berated my son for over a week. He didn't do anything yet you treated him like a criminal. I didn't appreciate that."

"He didn't do anything? Obviously you don't know the whole story."

The whole story? I wondered what he meant by that.

I ordered us dinner from room service.The air thick with a sort of depressed tension. We hardly spoke and just picked over our food. Afterward I showered, put on a pair of briefs, and climbed into bed.

I heard the shower running, and a few minutes later Mark came out, also wearing only briefs.

I could see the nice bulge his dick made in the briefs, and my mind went back to those flashes of memory when that dick was in front of me, and even in my mouth. I could almost taste the cum he had rewarded my efforts with. My dick grew hard instantly.

As I watched him getting into the other bed, I thought about the line we had crossed. I knew I had always been attracted to young people, boys in particular, but had never acted on my desires.

I had instead done the socially acceptable thing, married a woman, and produced two beautiful kids. I had no idea the woman I married would turn out to be such a monster.

We had never had a great sex life, I blamed myself because of my hidden desires. But outwardly she was a good mother and wife. It had all come crashing down a week before the incident, when she found one of my 'special' magazines in my workbench in the garage.

There was a lot of yelling and screaming and threats of divorce. I did a lot of denying, then pleading for forgiveness, till it all blew over. Or, at least I thought it had.

All this was wreaking havoc with my mind, not allowing me any peaceful sleep, when I felt the covers being lifted, and Mark slid in beside me. He snuggled into my arms, taking one around himself and holding it to his chest.

I kissed the back of his neck. "You okay?"

"I am now. Just hold me."

I have always been closer to Mark than any other member of our family, so this was no problem for me. My heart ached with sympathy for him. He had been through an ordeal, that even the little I could remember, horrified me. And he remembered it all.

Only now, we had crossed that line, and I was having difficulty redrawing it. My dick jumped in my briefs, and I'm sure Mark felt it. He even wiggled his butt a little tighter against me.

I awoke as Mark got out of bed. I could clearly see his briefs straining to hold his morning wood, as he made his way to the bathroom. When he came out, I went in, not even bothering to hide my own erection.

When breakfast was delivered, we ate a little more than the night before. Mark seemed less depressed, so maybe the night of reassuring closeness had helped.

While in the hospital, I had managed to oversee my business by phone to some degree. Thankfully I have a really good team. But I really needed to check on things, so Mark and I drove over to our corporate office.

When we entered, everyone stopped and stared, then broke into applause. Apparently our ordeal had been front page news. Although a bit sketchy with the details, the gist of it was well known.

The fact that I held our city's franchise for a well known fast food chain, and the recent headlines, meant that business was booming at all seven locations.

The paper said it was a home invasion, and called Mark and I heroes, and for the life of me I didn't know why. We felt more like victims, or at most, survivors, than heroes. But then I was still foggy on exactly what happened.

I instructed my staff to carry on as usual in my absence. I was taking some more time to heal and recuperate. Mostly I wanted to find somewhere else to live.

That night as Mark and I settled down to eat, I got a call from the detective.

"We've found your wife. She was in a cheap motel in Dallas, which confirms our suspicion that they are headed to Mexico."

"Is she under arrest?" I asked

"I'm sorry. I should have been clearer. No, she's not under arrest. She's dead. Shot in the head. I suspect once they got what they wanted from her, they disposed of her. She cleaned out your household account, and there was no sign of it or the twenty five grand."

"What about my daughter?"

"So far there's no sign of her. She's probably been sold into sex slavery by now."

"Detective, your bedside manner is sorely lacking. How could you be so callous and cruel? You're talking about my daughter as if she's a piece of meat."

"Just giving you the facts."

Mark came out of the bathroom after his shower. He made no attempt to try sleeping alone. He crawled into my bed again, needing to be held.

"It's okay to be sad, Mark. Your life has been turned upside down. Don't worry, we'll get back to our normal lives soon," I told him as I kissed his neck. "We'll find a new house and start over. You'll miss your mom, but, you'll learn to deal with the sorrow."

"That's just it. I'm not sad about her being dead. The terrible things she said, and what she did to you. It was horrible. I hate her."

"Hate is a nasty thing Mark. It's like a cancer. It will fester inside you and before you know it, it's eaten you alive. You can't let yourself be consumed by hatred. You need to let it go."

"But Dad, how can you forgive her after what she did?"

"Fortunately I can't remember all of it. Let's just get some sleep. We'll start looking for a house tomorrow."

Mark spooned into my embrace. There is no doubt he could feel my erection in his butt crack. Even with two pair of briefs between us, it was pretty intimate contact. Just as I started to drift off, his hand came down between our bodies, and gripped my hard dick. He squeezed it from balls to tip, as if studying its dimensions. Then he did the same with his dick.

We met with a realtor the next morning. I told him of my intent to sell the old house and I needed something entirely different. I didn't want either Mark or myself reminded on a daily basis of our previous lives.

He was very helpful, even offering the name of a company that could get the old place cleaned and ready to sell. I told him we would go back to get personal items and such, but otherwise I wanted everything sold.

He gave us some printouts of various listings, and a website to visit, that had houses I might be interested in, and said we could start getting ideas about what we liked and he'd show them to us.

Over lunch Mark and I looked at the printouts. It was good to see him take his mind off things, and he was actually getting a little excited about our new adventure.

"Can we drive by this one?" Mark asked about his favorite.

"Sure son."

It was very modern looking, and in a very nice neighborhood. "The website will have pictures of the inside," I told Mark.

Neither of us had our laptops, so we decided to face the old house again. At least the reporters were gone, but inside it seemed eerie. Like an old movie set. Not like our home at all. We knew where everything was, but it was as if we didn't belong there.

Back at the hotel Mark said, "I feel like I need to wash that house off me. I'm gonna shower."

I could understand how he felt, the bad memories seemed to soak into our pores.

He came out wearing just his briefs. He was still pretty damp as if he hadn't dried off well. His briefs were wet as well, and becoming transparent. I tried not to stare, but failed miserably. I could easily see his dick and ball sack through the thin, wet material. He wasn't hard, but none the less impressive looking.

I got us Cokes from the wet bar, as he pulled up the website on his laptop. I sat beside him as he balanced the laptop on his knees.

"Look at the kitchen, Dad. You'd love that."

I do like to cook, that's how I got into the restaurant business.

"What's that?" I asked pointing to something I couldn't recognize in the photo.

"I can't tell either," Mark replied.

I reached down to the scroll pad to try to magnify the area. As my fingers moved over the pad, my palm rested on Mark's bulging crotch. I felt it thicken under my hand as I spent longer than necessary on the scroll pad.

Mark didn't appear to be bothered that my hand was on his junk. "You should see the pool. It's really nice."

I used the pad to move through the pictures, pausing at each one to comment. My palm was constantly rubbing over his dick throughout the viewing. His dick had achieved maximum tumescence under my skillful encouragement. It was stone hard and pushing past the waistband of his briefs.

"Dad, how much do you remember?"

"Not a lot really. Maybe you should tell me what you remember about it, and it might fill the gaps in my memory."

"I wasn't there when they came in. I was at Daniel's house. When I came home two guys grabbed me. That's when I saw you laying on the floor unconscious. They must've knocked you out so they could tie you up.

"Mom… I hate to even call her that now… Mom directed it all. She told the tall guy 'There's the little faggot.' Then they took me upstairs. There was another guy in Becky's room with her.

"The tall guy, Mom called him Frank, said 'Let's make sure she doesn't go gay too.'

"Mom said 'I think she's ok, I've been letting a neighbor boy play with her. She likes it.'

"They took off Becky's clothes, and the shortest one started… fingering her. Becky said 'You wouldn't let Billy do it. Can he do it, Mommy', and Mom said 'Yes, we're gonna let him make you a grownup woman.'

"Becky just lay back and spread her legs, right in front of me. The short guy didn't waste any time and jumped on her. He put his… dick in her and pushed hard. I thought it should have hurt her, but after a minute she said 'It feels even better than the brush handle you use on me, Mommy.'

"I couldn't believe it. Mom had been doing stuff like that to Becky, and letting Billy play with her too. Billy's fourteen, he shouldn't be playing with ten year old girls.

"Frank said, 'See there faggot. That's what men do. They fuck girls.' The short guy must have… well, he got off of Becky, and she said 'I didn't get the feeling, Mommy' and Mom said, 'There's more dick downstairs' so we went back down. "

You were just struggling to sit up, and Becky lay on the floor beside you with her feet in the air. The guy that had been keeping an eye on you, took his pants off and just got between her legs.

"They must have hit your head pretty hard, because you just sat there and watched with this dazed look on your face. I know you would have at least tried to do something. But you weren't all there, really.

"Then they stripped our clothes off and… Uh… Then the other guy fucked Becky. Mom told Frank she needed some loving too. And Frank said that she'd get what she wanted when he got what he wanted. She said it was in the bedroom. They practically carried you up the stairs.

"When we were all in your bedroom Mom opened the safe.Two of the guys took the money out and put it in a suitcase. Then Mom said, 'Now give me that big cock.' I couldn't believe it. She gave them all that money just so Frank would… fuck her. They got naked and were kissing. Then Frank said 'Watch and learn faggots.' and Becky said 'I want to do it too, Mommy.' So Mom told the short guy to fuck Becky again."

Mark was having trouble getting it all out. He was sobbing and I took him into my arms.

"It's okay son. Just let it out. You'll feel better after."

"Mom made you watch as Frank fucked her. She kept saying stuff like… well…like 'See what a real man can do' and… 'I love your big cock, Frank' and 'Nobody fucks me like you do.' It was awful. I felt so bad for you, Dad. Why would she do that?"

I didn't want Mark to see how upsetting that was for me to hear.

"Maybe a shower would do me some good too," I said and hurried from the room.

My head was spinning as I stood under the spray. All the flashes of memory were true as I had suspected. But why would she do those horrible things? Why let some thugs fuck her ten year old daughter? Why make her son watch as she got fucked by someone other than her husband? Why have I never seen this side of her? If she were pissed at me and wanted to have an affair, I could understand that. But to go to the extremes she went to… I couldn't.

Stepping out of the shower, I only put on briefs. I crawled into bed and pulled the covers over my head. It was still daylight, but right then I just wanted to check out of the world. Some things just didn't add up, and I needed to get a handle on it.

I felt the covers shift as Mark crawled in behind me. "Are you okay, Dad?"

"Yes, Son, I'm okay. I'm just trying to put the pieces together. But there's still a few missing. You haven't told me everything, have you?" I asked turning to face him.

He shook his head no, and I could see tears welling in his eyes again.

"I know you skipped the part where you and I… were intimate."

He nodded.

"Was there anything else?"

Mark nodded again.

"Do you want to tell me?"

"Can we just talk about it tomorrow? I really don't want to think about it anymore today," he cried.

"You don't have to," I said and pulled him to me. His arms went around me, and he eventually calmed down.

"Dad?"

"Yes, Mark?"

"You have an erection."

"Yes, I do. So do you."

"Is it because of… what we did?"

"A little bit I guess. And seeing you in your damp underwear brought it to mind."

He snaked his hand between our bodies, and grasped my solid dick.

Mark slid under the cover and pulled my briefs down. His hands hadn't left my underwear before I felt his mouth on my dick. He seem to almost inhale it, as lightening bolts of pleasure shot through me. I had been helpless to stop it the first time, but now I could have. I probably should, but I didn't want to. He's my son, yet I wanted this. I wanted him.

It was so wrong for me to let him continue sliding his mouth on my straining dick. Wrong for me to fulfill his craving, and blow my load down his throat. But I couldn't stop. I wouldn't stop.

"Oh God Mark. I'm gonna cum."

He increased his efforts, and I erupted, sending my sperm into my son. I hated myself, yet I could think of only one thing.

As Mark lay down beside me, I threw the covers back. I practically ripped his briefs off, and stared down at his beautiful body.

His cock was just as I saw it in my memory flashes. Just as long as mine, but not quite as thick. Sparse hair at the very bottom of his dick, and heavy looking balls. I engulfed it with fervor, all the way to the base. It was just as tasty as I remembered it would be. I licked, nuzzled, and worshiped that teen meat. Then I grabbed his hips and rolled him onto his side. He took my head in his hands and began pumping my face with his cock. I wanted him to fuck my face, and he did just that. His movements soon became erratic. Pushing in deep quickly and slowly drawing back, then again, and again. He was straining to cum, just needed a little push over the edge, I swirled my tongue over his sensitive crown on the back stroke, and that did it. He shoved deep and hard and exploded down my throat. I didn't let him out of my mouth until he was totally soft. Even then I did it reluctantly.

My underwear was still around my knees, so I tugged them off before laying next to Mark, and drawing him close to me. It was a closeness that we both needed.

Waking up naked together was a bit awkward at first. We soon remedied that by blowing each other again. It's funny how we've lived together his whole life, and suddenly we can't get enough of each other.

I called the realtor and made an appointment to look at some of the houses we were interested in. We spent most of the day looking, but Mark and I both liked the one we had looked at on the website. We liked it's modern design, which was a stark contrast to our old house.

Back in our hotel room, I received a call from the Detective. "We caught them trying to cross into Mexico. All three will be charged with a slew of felonies from kidnapping to murder. I'm sure one will probably turn on the other two to save himself from the death penalty. I'll keep you informed."

I guess I should have felt relief at the news, but instead I was more confused. He said all three, when I know there were four.

I told Mark the good news, and he was elated. He insisted on showering together, so I gave in, just to save water of course.

Afterwards, as we lay snuggling in bed, I wanted to ask for more details, but didn't want to spoil his good mood. There would be plenty of time for that later.

Another day of house hunting, led us to make a decision. We wanted the modern house, and there was no sense in wasting anymore time looking.

Over dinner I asked Mark, "Is there anything in the old house you want to keep?"

"Maybe my bike and my trophies. But nothing I can't live without."

"We can have someone get those. I'll keep the kitchen stuff, otherwise I'm getting rid of everything in there.

The owner of the new house accepted my offer, and we had a move in date. Mark and I spent the next three weeks picking out furniture and stuff for the new place. During the day that is. At night, we became even closer and more intimate.

One evening, I got off the phone with my company, to find Mark crying.

"What's wrong Mark?"

"It's all my fault," he blubbered.

"What is?"

"All of it… Everything… You getting shot, Mom going nuts, Becky getting raped… Everything."

I wrapped my arms around him. "I seriously doubt that any of it is your fault. But why don't you tell me why you think so?"

He cried a minute longer before he could gather himself.

"Two days before… that day… Mom caught me and Daniel together. We were… sucking each other. She blew up. I had never seen her so mad. She said 'Your father isn't going to like this one bit. He's gonna blame me. But it ain't my fault. It's your dad's fault. Fucking faggots! Your father will probably kill us all. I'm not gonna die because of a couple of faggots. No siree. This is not my fault.' She even smacked me around, calling me names like fairy and faggot. She said she'd make sure I got was coming to me, too."

"Mark, do you honestly believe that I would kill someone over something like that?"

"No Dad, I didn't then, or now… But you don't know the whole story…"

"Mark. If you think this was your fault because she caught you with your friend, you're mistaken. A week before, she found a gay magazine of mine. She couldn't possibly think I would be angry at you for doing those things with your friend."

"I know, Dad. I never thought of you as being violent at all. And it didn't make sense to me until that day. When she… introduced me to Frank as… his son the little faggot."

"What? I don't understand?"

"That's what she said. That Frank was mine, and even Becky's father. That's why she was saying that my father would be mad, and it was my dad's fault. Father being Frank, and Dad, meaning you"

I was dumbfounded. This meant my marriage was a lie from the beginning. That bitch was fucking Frank the whole time. I thought maybe she had just met him recently and he talked her into stealing the money from the safe. She had agreed so she could get that big cock again. But she'd been getting that big cock for at least fourteen, maybe fifteen years. The entire marriage.

Mark continued. "That's when Frank slapped her. Started yelling about how he can't stand fags and it was her fault. She said she could prove she wasn't to blame. That's when….they made me suck you. And that if you were a fag, you would suck me too and that would prove you made me a fag. That's when I… put my dick in your mouth. You didn't have any choice but to suck it. Then Becky wanted me to fuck her. I didn't want to fuck my sister so I called her a bad name and pushed her away.

"I'm sorry Dad. I really didn't want to tell you. I mean…"

"Look, Mark. No matter what she said, you're my son. I don't care if it's blood or not. It only means that our current relationship is a little less illegal and socially unacceptable. Then what happened?"

"Well, then Frank said at least the little slut was worth something, and told one of the guys to shoot the little faggot. When the guy pointed the gun at me, you kicked him in the knee. He shot you for that, then he aimed at me again. You kicked him again and he shot you a second time, but you just kept kicking him. He dropped the gun, so I grabbed it. I shot the guy who shot you then chased the others out."

"You killed a man? Is that why the detective said three were caught?"

"No. I could have though. After all that time you and I spent at the gun range, you know I'm a good shot. I shot his dick off."

I had to burst out laughing. I couldn't stop myself. Mark laughed too.

"I wanted to really hurt them all. I was going to shoot all their dicks off. I aimed at Frank's dick next. Mom jumped in front of him. She knew I could take that big cock right off at the root. I told her to take her boyfriend's big dick and get the fuck out, or there wouldn't be anything left of it.

"I called 911 and got some towels to stop your bleeding. The dickless guy tried to crawl out while I tended to you, so I shot his other knee."

"Remind me to never piss you off," I said with a hug.

"When the cops arrived, I was sitting there with a gun pointed at him, so dickless tried to blame me. They had me in handcuffs before the ambulances even arrived. I told them to check the safe upstairs, that it had been full of money, now it was empty. They still didn't take the cuffs off me.

"The ambulance took you away and the detective showed up. He kept asking me questions and I'd answer, then he ask the same question differently to try and confuse me. I finally told him that if I had wanted either you or dickless dead, you would be. That I shot his dick off on purpose and took out his knee so he couldn't escape. I told him to check my marksmanship trophies in my room. I guess that's when he turned his attention on the other guy.

"They took me to police headquarters in handcuffs. I had to sit there all night while dickless had surgery. I kept begging to see you. The detective finally took me to the hospital. He handcuffed me to your bed until he had a chance to question dickless. I guess dickless's story fell apart, and the detective took the cuffs off. But he came back and questioned me forever."

"So the newspapers were right. You are a hero," I said with another hug.

"No, Dad, you are. You kept fighting to save me even though you had been shot twice. I think you would've killed the guy with your feet if you needed to. You told me to run as you kept kicking that asshole. I only saw the chance to save you when he dropped the gun. You didn't care if he shot you, you were going to save me in spite of the gun. I'm just glad he didn't kill you."

"Okay so we're each other's hero," I conceded.

Mark and I moved into our new home. It was beautiful and perfect for us. Our first evening, I made us a wonderful meal which we ate poolside.

He joined me in bed later and I asked him if he wouldn't prefer to spend some time with Daniel.

"No. Daniel was just practice for the one I really always wanted. You."

I smiled at him as I admired his body. "Your cock has grown these last couple of months. I suppose one good thing came out of your mother's affair."

"Do you really think mine will get as big as Frank's?"

"It appears to be on it's way."

"Dad, would you… fuck me?"

"I'd love to. But I think you should do me first. I need to start getting used to this monster now before it gets out of hand."

***

I'm not saying that my wife was right about a big cock being better. I will say that Mark fucks me really well. That night and many after. Over the next year Mark grew to be just as big as Frank. I could feel the difference almost every time. Maybe it's because it is big. Or maybe he just uses it well. I would also like to think it's because it's attached to Mark, who I love. I would hate to think I love someone just because of their cock. That would be too much like my wife.

Mark likes the way I fuck him too, and I don't have a big dick. I know that I please him much more than I ever did my wife. Of course, he's not a size queen whore like she was.

The four guys were tried separately because the charges varied for each of them. For instance, Dickless wasn't charged with my wife's murder. The jury took pity on him too, when they learned of his wounds. He was only given ten years. I guess the fact that he would probably never walk again had something to do with it, but I'm sure that he'd have to sit down to pee was more a contributing factor.

The other two turned on Frank, claiming he pulled the trigger on my wife, and sold Becky to the Russian mafia for five thousand dollars. Becky was never found. They were given life sentences. Frank will get the needle eventually.

But Karma's a bitch. Frank filed suit against the state prison system. Seems he's been gang raped twice, and is made to suck cocks nearly everyday in prison.

It couldn't happen to a nicer homophobe.

The End