Treasures in the Attic

I was dribbling. Not from my mouth. On the basketball court. Steve, Jimmy, Paul, Ed, and I were shooting baskets after school. I took a shot but Ed blocked me and I missed the basket. The ball bounced off the rim and Jimmy caught it. He tried to shoot a basket, but Paul waved his arms in front of him. He took the shot anyway and he missed too. Then Steve got the ball and ran further up the court where there was no interference, took a long shot and made a basket.

"Good toss," I yelled.

"Thanks Russ," he answered. Russ. That's me. My name is Russell. You're probably wondering if that's my first name or my last name. Well, actually, it's both. My parents, in a jocular mood, had named me Russell, when our family name was already Russell. So I was Russell Russell. Some joke, huh? In any case I answer to the name of Russ, so when Steve called 'thanks, Russ,' he was talking to me.

"I've gotta get home," said Ed. "I have to pack up some old clothes my parents are giving to charity."

"Okay," said Jimmy. "Let's hit the showers."

"I've got one problem," said Ed. "I have cartons, but I don't have any rope to tie them with. Anybody know where I can get some rope?"

"I've seen a lot of rope lying around in the attic. I'll look when I get home," I offered.

"That would be great," said Ed.

"Let's get wet," said Paul.

We stripped off our T-shirts, shorts, and jocks in the locker room and headed for the showers. The hot water felt great on my aching muscles, and I started to soap up. I started with my legs and worked up. I soaped my dick and balls, and then reached behind to soap my asshole. I guess I was facing away from the other guys, because when I was soaping my ass, Steve leaned his chin on my shoulder and said to the other guys, "What a pretty round ass, and now it's all nice and slippery." Everybody roared with laughter. I turned around, and there were the four of them lewdly soaping their big cocks which were getting harder and harder. I looked at them, and I swear I think I was getting hard too.

"Very funny, you guys," I said angrily.

"We're not trying to be funny," said Steve. "We just want a nice piece of ass, and a nice dark place to stick our fuck poles into."

Big talk from a guy who'd never had anything more than a handjob-- from his own hand, I might add. In fact, none of us had. We were all totally sex starved, and each of us was just dying to find a hole to stick it in, if you know what I mean. We had all just turned eighteen and were about to graduate from high school.

I looked at my four friends, and their lean, strong, athletic bodies. Who wouldn't want to fuck these guys? They were gorgeous. And so was I. I hate to toot my own horn, but I was pretty hot myself. I was also lean, strong and athletic. I was already six inches taller than my own father. It tickled me the way he had to look up at me when we were talking. Suddenly I felt a soapy finger crawling up my ass, and I jumped a mile. It was Steve with a big grin on his face. They were all grinning.

"Cut it out, you wise guys. I'm not queer," I yelled.

"Well, we sure wish you were," laughed Jimmy.

"Even if I were queer I wouldn't let you four jokers touch me with your teeny twisted doorkeys." I teased. That was a lie. I wouldn't let them touch me because I wasn't queer, but their cocks were not teeny twisted doorkeys at all. They were all big thick heavy mothers that would terrorize any pussy lucky enough to be assaulted by one of them.

"Anybody wanna go for burgers at the Big B around six?" asked Steve.

"I'll go," said Ed.

"I'll go too," said Jimmy.

"How about you, sport?" Steve asked me. "I'll drive. I'll pick everybody up."

"No. I'd better not. I've got a Calculus test tomorrow. I'd better study." I answered

"Do you mind if Steve drops me by around six so I can pick up that rope?" asked Ed.

"No, that's fine," I answered. "I'll check the attic as soon as I get home."

"Come on, Let's get dressed," I suggested, and we left the showers, found towels and began to dry off. Then we put on our clothes and combed our hair carefully, in case any of the girls should see us on the way to the parking lot.

"We'll stop over around six, and I'll pick up that rope," called Ed, before slamming the driver's door of his Chevy.

"Okay," I yelled, getting into my own car, and turning the key in the ignition.

Then I drove out of the schoolyard, and down Cranston Boulevard toward my house. When I got home, the house was empty. Dad wasn't due home from his video rental story for another hour and a half or so, and mom had said she was eating out with the women and that afterwards they were going to a musical in town.

I pulled into the driveway far to the left side, so that mom and dad would each have room to park, then I crossed the lawn, climbed the stairs onto the front porch, opened the screen door and stuck my key into the steel lock of the heavy wooden front door.

"Anybody home?" I called, just to make sure.

I put my school books up in my room, and pulled down the ladder to the attic. I climbed the rickety wooden stairs. I hadn't been up there for a long time. It was real dark and musty. The dust was causing my nose to tickle and I sniffled. I pulled the cord on the sixty watt hanging bulb at the top of the stairs, and got at least a little illumination. Where the hell was that rope? I knew I'd seen it someplace or other. There were old plates, old silverware, my mothers old mah jong set. There were some old lamps that used to be in the living room before we redecorated and laid down our beautiful new carpet, a couple of old chairs which should have been given to Good Will for the poor; but my parents couldn't part with anything. They were collectors, scavengers. Probably everything in that attic could have been tossed, if there were somebody around with a strong demanding personality like I had. But my parents were savers. There was my father's stamp collection from when he was a kid. There were my mother's favorite childhood dolls, Linda the blonde, and Betsy who peed. And yeah. There were some coils of rope. Right. I knew they were there. I stepped down and picked up a few yards, and then another few yards, and I was about to turn back to the staircase when I noticed two large cartons. I wondered what was in the cartons. Maybe something great, maybe some treasures--- but probably not. I guess I'd seen those cartons before and never wondered what was in them, but I was up here alone now, and curious to see what my parents had stowed away. I dusted off the top of one of the cartons with the side of my hand, and I sneezed. Phhoooy. Hadn't been touched in years. There was some rope around the carton tied in a knot. I undid the knot and opened the cardboard flaps. Inside were hundreds of unmarked videotapes. Were these tapes my father had taken from the store??? If he had a video store, why did he have tapes in the attic?

I opened the second carton. It was also filled with videotapes. So I just closed it back up, and went downstairs with four of the tapes from the first carton, and a couple of lengths of rope. I was really curious now. Putting the tapes and the rope on the carpet momentarily, I pushed the ladder back up into the dark-again attic, and closed the trap door in the ceiling. Then I picked up everything and went downstairs to the living room where the video recorder was attached to the television. I laid the first tape on top of the recorder and tossed the rope on the floor. I didn't put the tape in yet, because I wanted to get a cold coke. The basketball had made me thirsty. I returned from the kitchen, sipping the coke, and then I put it on the end table while I turned on the television and slipped the tape into the recorder. I lay back on the couch, getting comfortable. I hoped it was going to be a good film like Superman or Batman or something. Something with a lot of action.

The titles came on. 'Gang Bang Ron' starring America's favorite bottom boy Ron Rustler with Ryan Poke, Sid Spear, Perry Pick etc. etc. There were about ten more names, and produced by and directed by. Then the picture came on. It was a navy picture. There were these two guys in sailor suits on the deck of a ship talking how they were going into town to get them some pussy when the boat docked. They started feeling up their own crotches, and you could tell they had some pretty big stuff in there. Then there was an announcement on the loud speaker calling all hands on deck. A lot of other sailors joined the first two on deck, and then the captain came on and announced that the port was closed, and they would be heading out to sea again. There would be no shore leave.

All the sailors started loudly complaining. "What about some pussy?"

"I need to get my rocks off."

"I need a good hot wet mouth to suck the juice out of my dick."

"This is no fair. We been on the sea for months now. We gotta shoot our loads."

"We want pussy. We want pussy," they started chanting, and they started playing with their cocks through their pants. Then the camera fixed on two of the sailors. One of them was just leaning over the rail, staring off into the horizon, and the second one started noticing his firm ass pressing against the tight material of his sailor suit. He joined the first guy at the rail standing next to him and looking off into the horizon, and then the camera pulled back and you could see his hand reach out and start caressing the other guy's ass. The first guy was pretending like he wasn't feeling anything, but he was getting turned on and his ass started to sway a little. The guy who was doing the rubbing, now took his other hand and started playing with his own dick through his pants. Finally he eased his long stiff dick out through his fly. The guy whose ass was getting rubbed (the assguy) looked down and saw the other guy's cock, and reached over and took it in his hand and began to jack it back and forth. Then he bent down and started to suck on it. The guy who was getting jacked and sucked closed his eyes and got this look of pure pleasure on his face, and started chanting, "Yeah, bitch. Suck it. Suck my big cock, bitch." The captain and all the other guys were watching and starting to get excited. They started playing with their dicks inside their tight sailor suits.

The assguy sucked the other guy for about five minutes. Then the other guy grabbed his arm and pulled him up. He opened the sailor's pants and let them drop to the deck. Then he let the guy's skivvies drop to the deck. Finally, he just made the guy take off everything, and he started to do the same. The assguy looked at the other guy's big dick lustfully. He was almost licking his lips. The sailor who had been getting sucked wheeled the other guy around, so that the top half of his body was out over the rail. He stepped behind the assguy and took hold of his own big stiff dick and pressed it into the assguy's behind. Into the crack between his butt cheeks. Then the camera panned down and you could see the big dick actually pushing into the tight asshole. You could see the rubbery ring stretching.

Even if it was just guys I was beginning to get excited, seeing a big dick going into a tight hole. I could just imagine what that might feel like, to have a tight wet case of flesh folded around your hot prick. I opened my pants and took out my rod, and began to stroke on it as I watched the movie. I licked the palm of my hand and put it back on my cock, enjoying the pressing wetness of my own grip. Another big lick on my hand, and a little more jacking. The fucker was plowing in and out of the assguy's ass, between the two voluptuous asscheeks. The assguy started moaning in ecstasy and the camera panned up to a full view of his handsome ecstatic face, and my hand froze in mid air. My god. The sailor who was getting his ass reamed -was my father. My own father was getting fucked in the ass. How could this be? My father was a fag? I think I started to cry. I walked closer to the television to get a better view of that screwed-up panting face. It was a younger version of my own dad. The credits had said 'Gang Bang Ron' starring America's favorite bottom boy, Run Rustler. My father's name was Ron. Ron Russell. Oh my god. It was true. My father had been a porno film star. A gay porno film star. My own father was a faggot.

I let my dick hang out as I crossed the room and stopped the tape. I took it out and put in another tape. I pushed the play button. The credits came on. "Gang Bang Ron #7' starring America's favorite bottom boy, Run Rustler. Oh my god, there were five others in between the tape I had just watched and this one. This one took place in a ranch bunkhouse and it had a whole new cast of big dicks. Only my father and his hungry ass were the same.

All the cowhands undressed this one handsome young cowhand (my father) in the bunkhouse and began sticking it to him one by one. As one was fucking him, he would take the next one's big hard dick in his mouth, and lovingly nurse on it. You could tell he just loved it. My dad loved cock. This was so bad. So bad. But I kept watching those big dicks going into that tight pussyhole and shooting their enormous loads, and you could see streams of the thick white come oozing out of my father's ass between partners. I unconsciously started to play with my own cock again as I watched my father get hammered. I watched with unwilling fascination. I started to play with my two big balls. They looked just like my father's big balls, which swung back and forth on every brutal instroke while he was being hammered. The blonde guy went through all kinds of crazy movements and shot his load into my father's ass, then he took his cock out and some of the scum bubbled out of my dad, until the redheaded guy stepped in with his enormous dick and plugged up the gaping hole. My father screamed in joy every time a new cock plunged into his behind. He really knew how to work that ass of his. Boy did he. He was a real expert. He was a professional. A professional male cunt.

I put in the next tape, 'Ron Gets Reamed' another epic starring my own beloved dad. The faggot whore. It was funny. As much as it disgusted me, I kept stroking my dick, and watching my father's smooth agile ass. It was starting to look good to me. I know that's a faggoty thing to say, but I felt my balls tightening, and I reached down and gently massaged them, and then I even licked my finger and moved it down, and began touching my own rear hole, which, I now realized, was a really sensitive body area. I slipped my finger in just a little bit and began squeezing down on it, as I stroked my desire-heavy dick with my other hand. My pants and underpants were now down around my ankles, and I raised my legs off the floor and slid down on the couch till I was lying down. My face was turned to the side, watching the fuck show on the television, watching my handsome young father take it up the ass. Take it up the ass time and again, one cock after the other, and the look of happiness on his handsome face---I can't even describe it.

I was so engrossed in all this that I didn't hear the front door opening. And besides the television sound was turned way up. "AAAHHHHHH. AAAAHHHHHH. AAAAHHHHHHHH." Suddenly I saw my father standing in the living room doorway, an appalled expression on his face, as he saw what I was watching. He had heard the "AAAAHHHH"ing when he came in the front door and was afraid of what he would find. He stood there in the entranceway, his car keys dangling in his hands. His face was red in anger and embarrassment.

"What are you doing?" he asked. His voice was very low and tight.

"I'm watching my father get fucked in the ass on videotape," I said angrily and defiantly. I slipped my finger out of my asshole, but he could still see that I was lying there with a tremendous boner.

"Where did you find that?" he asked.

"In a big carton in the attic with a hundred others. You were a big star, huh, dad? A big queer cunt whore."

"Don't you dare talk to me like that," he said. "I'm still your father."

"You're a queer pussy slut!" I screamed, and kicking my pants off my ankles, I suddenly ran at him and tackled him, knocking him down on the carpet. I started beating on his back and shoulders with my fists. He tried to turn around and grab my arms, to stop me from beating him, but I was bigger and stronger than him. Finally my anger ran out of steam, and I sat there straddling his legs, now just weakly socking his back.

"You little bastard!" he yelled. I started hitting him again. "I fed you and clothed you and gave you a good home. You have your own room. You have your own car. You ungrateful little prick."

"You homo pussy!" I screamed. The tears were now streaming down my face, but as I sat on top of him, I noticed my dick was starting to stiffen. That was ridiculous.

"What are you going to do now, kill me?" he asked.

"No. I'm not going to kill you," I said after mulling it over in my mind for a few seconds.

"Beat me up?"

Again, I thought it over. "No. I'm not going to beat you up," I decided.

"Then what?" he asked.

"I don't know. You should be punished," I said emphatically.

"For what?" he asked.

I mulled it over in my mind and then answered him. "For being a queer cocksucker."

"And how are you going to punish me?" he asked with genuine interest.

Again I considered all the possibilities. "I'm gonna spank your queer ass," I decided. And with that I sat back on the couch and dragged him up off the floor and over my lap. I slipped my hands under his struggling body and opened his belt. Then I pulled down his pants and his tight white jockey shorts to mid-calf level. And he was lying on my naked lap, naked, with his naked queer butt facing me. I drew my hand back and slapped those bouncy big cheeks. "AAARRGGHH," he screamed in pain, and began twisting his rear, which made me realize I had to continue and I gave him another flat hand wallop.

"Stop," he pleaded. "You little bastard!" That just made me want to give him another one, and I did. But this one was a whole volley. Whop. Whop. Whop. His ass was twisting around under my hand and it was pretty red now. I felt his dick getting hard on top of my thighs, where my own dick was already hard. Our dicks started hammering together as I spanked him, and it felt kind of sexy.

I kept looking down at those red cheeks. Then I took my other hand, and using both hands separated his cheeks and looked into the crack. I was staring at his little queer asshole. The one that had been fucked a million times. I was curious. I wondered if it was still tight or if it had gotten loose from all those assreamings. I licked my index finger and brought it to the edge of the hole. It moved in pretty easily.

"Ohhh," my father groaned. I think he was liking the finger. I kept moving it down, than up, then down as my father wiggled his ass and moaned like a bitch in heat.

"You like that?" I asked. He didn't answer. "I asked did you like that?" And I took my finger out for a second to give him another loud whop.

"AAARGGGHHH," he screamed. "Take your goddamned finger out of my ass."

"I will," I agreed, and I threw him back on the living room floor, flat down, and jumped on top of him. "I'm gonna take out my finger, and put in my big stiff cock. You should really like that a lot," I sneered. And with that I lifted my butt to get my cock into position between his bubbles, and sank back down as my stiff dick entered his tight fuck channel, with not a lot of difficulty.

I had been concentrating on this as a punishment for him, and I was only now starting to realize that my cock was in a tight warm dark hole. It was where it had always longed to be, even if it was my father's ass.

I started moving my hips up and down to make my cock move up and down inside his hole. I heard him gasp. Then I felt his movements start to mirror my own. He was squeezing his asswalls down on my dick, and as I moved into him he moved his ass up slightly till I could feel his round cheeks against my front, and his swaying balls knocked against my own swaying balls. As I drew out slightly, he loosened his ass and flattened it. The two of us were like a perfectly functioning fuck machine. And I had never felt anything so wonderful in my life. Up to now, I had had to content myself with a hand job. But this was a real live suctioning hole sucking on my dick. What a feeling. My god. I threw my arms around my father's chest, and pressed my cheek against his. We were both breathing like snowblowers. I started to lick and bite his ear, and I felt his asscheeks with one hand as we strained against each other.