Tag: blue collar

Fantasy Feedback Loop (1 of 2)

I’d had no idea where it had come from, it was just there on the porch when I’d gotten home from community college. I was still living with my parents, getting some credits under my belt before transferring to a state school to finish a bachelor’s degree. Regardless, I saw this box on the step, with no one’s name on it, so I took it inside and up to my room. Now, usually I got home first from class, then my dad would get home, and then my stepmom later, so everything was quiet. I liked living with my dad…well, I’ll be honest, I’d had the hots for me father for as long as I could remember.

I was still in the closet–I didn’t dare tell him, after listening to him rant about “those faggots” my entire youth, but he was a walking wet dream for a bear chaser like me. Nice full beard, heady musk (I had a…collection of his dirty underwear and socks stashed away for personal use), and a muscular body from manual labor with a nice, healthy gut. If he wasn’t so fucking straight, right? I’d messaged a few a few guys and chatted on some sites, but I hadn’t actually had the chance to get my cherry popped yet–I think part of me was still holding out for my dad, as sick as that might sound. I opened up the package, and found a small statue inside–well, statue is a bit misleading. It looked high tech–a thick pillar of metal mounted on a wide base with a few buttons, including an on/off toggle, so it had to do something, right? There was a thick manual beneath it, and apparently, the thing was something called…a fantasy generator.

It had to be fake, I told myself. Some stupid prank or something. The book claimed that if you turned it on, and let it charge, it would gather the desires of people around it, and when it was fully primed, unleash those desires, and make them come true. It would literally change reality. That had to be impossible right? Then again…maybe it was at least worth a shot…

My dad would be home in about an hour. I plugged in the machine, saw it had power, and turned it on…and as soon as I did, it’s like…some force just overwhelmed me, and I lost control of myself, got on my bed, and started jacking off with my dad’s dirty underwear, thinking about him, about how much I needed him. I could…feel the energy building up around me, until the room was thrumming with it, and when I heard the sound of his truck pull up, and he walked into the house, and came within the reach of the field…there was a pulse, and everything went white, for a moment. When I could see again, my dad was in the doorway of my bedroom, a hungry look on his face–he walked right over and started sucking my cock–his son’s cock! I nearly shot from that alone…but this…this was normal now, wasn’t it? We’d…been fucking for years at this point, since I was sixteen or so. I was in heaven–so thrilled, that I barely noticed that the machine was warming up again…and when another flash came a half an hour later, I realized I probably should have read the whole book first.

TV Repair (1 of 2)

“Dang, that TV a yers is actin’ up again? What is this, the third time this month? Maybe ya outta have some other tech come out ‘n look at it, since Bryce ‘n I haven’t been much help at all.”

“Ya sure? I mean, I appreciate the compliment–me ‘n Bryce have been workin’ out a bit lately, ain’t that right boy?”

“Yes sir.”

“Finally got this one whipped intah shape! Fuck, first time he came here with me, he was a bit a prick, wasn’t he? So much nicer now that he only speaks when spoken too–and so damn polite!”

“A cigar? Well, you know we can’t turn down one a yer cigars. Kinda started craving them a bit, actually. Bryce too. The wife ain’t too happy ‘bout me comin’ home, smellin’ like smoke, but fuck what she wants. What brand are these anyway? Might want tah pick up some fer mahself.”

“Really? Mail order? Dang–aw shoot, ya’d do that fer us? Thanks bud. Thank the nice man, Bryce.”

“Thank you sir, for giving us a supply of cigars.”

“That’s a good boy. Now, how bout we take a look at that TV a yers. Still doin’ the same staicy shit as before, huh? Well, we’ll try and git tah the bottom a this tahday, ‘n hopefully ya won’t have to see either of us again for a while! Go on boy, git down there, on yer knees–that’s it. Make room fer me too…n’…let’s focus….focus on the screen. See if we can…can look deep enough, find out what’s…the matter…

Source: somacho

Look, I’ll be the first one to admit, that I kind of fucked up the whole fatherhood thing. But hell, getting laid-off from the job you’ve had for thirty years…I never thought I’d end up working for some construction company, but that’s what happened. The marriage slipped around then too. I was just so tired of pretending, you know? Pretending to love her, pretending to want to fuck her, it just…it was impossible. Jack got kind of shoved to the side, I admit. I wasn’t always there for him. I was off being single again, I was partying and fucking, so what if I…I should have been there, I know, but how in the hell do you try and bridge that gap, you know? He fuckin’ hated me, and I never saw him until the state dumped him on me, after his mom ended up in prison for drug possession. It wasn’t what either of us wanted, believe me, but I tried my best. I got him to school every day, I tried to make sure he had dinner. I sacrificed, I didn’t fuck nearly as many men as I wanted to, I had to resort mostly to blowing and getting blown on the construction site with the rest of the guys, with the occasional quiet fuck back at home. Well, they were never that quiet, I guess, but I scream when I cum, I can’t fuckin’ help it!

When I tried to talk to him, he’d just bottle up, or we’d fight. “You’ve changed!” he’d say. Well yeah, so fucking what! It fucking happens, I’d tell him. I told him he’d change too. That one day he’d look at himself in the mirror and not recognize himself either. It’s called growing up, and being a fucking man. Did I think I’d be this slobby muscle bear chain smoking cigars back in my twenties? Freshly married, with an office job, and a kid on the way? Fuck no. You never think you’re gonna change, and then you fucking do. Because you have to. Because you want to. He was always so insistent. He had this fuckin’ image of me, from when he was kid. Like I wasn’t allowed to be who I wanted to be, if he didn’t like it. Well fuck him, I’d say, and then call a guy up and fuck his brains out against our shared wall, ramming the dude in to it, making the fuckin’ plaster shake. Heh, Jack fuckin’ hated that, good fuckin’ times. There’s no better fuck than an angry fuck, you know?

Anyway, he wanted to go to college, but I had no money to send him there, and I was still paying off my own loans nearly twenty years later. What had college gotten me anyway? Almost none of the guys I worked with had gone to college and they were all doing just fine. I was venting to Foreman about it one night, when he’d invited me to stick around and suck his cock for a while, and he was the one with the idea. Why not bring Jack to work with me for a week? Let him see what I did, and how much I liked it. It was a great idea, but then Foreman always has great ideas, so I wasn’t surprised. Jack hated the idea, but I made it conditional. He had to come work with me for a week, and if he could handle it, then I’d cosign his college loans if he still wanted to go. His eyes lit up at that–selfish fucker. Don’t blame him though, he got it from that bitch.

Heh, that first day he stuck out like a sore thumb. I introduced him to the crew, all of us hulking, hairy, filthy roughnecks stinkin’ of beer and cigar smoke, and he’s this chubby eighteen year old kid–fuck. Foreman though, he put on the charm, and put Jack right at ease with a few jokes, and led him off to his trailer to complete some paperwork. I lost track of him that first day–I was workin’ with Max on some stuff, but we got so horny we ended up fuckin’ on a pile of bricks all through lunch. That afternoon, I saw Jack working with Carlos, mixing cement, and something about my boy workin’ with his hands made me so damn proud. Goin home that night, he even admitted to enjoying his day somewhat, but he kept lookin’ at me a bit odd–or rather, at my cigar. He’d never been curious about my smoking–he’d ridiculed me for it from the day he’d started living with me, but that night he asked if he could have one. I was only too happy to help him out, and we shared a stogie and a few beers, stayed up to late, and were both a bit hungover the next day at work.

Over the rest of the week, Jack spent most of his time in the morning with Foreman, and then worked with the rest of us in the afternoons. On Wednesday, Foreman and I had a long chat while he fucked my ass over his desk, and he suggested that Jack and I leave work early, and go take him to the barber and to get some real clothes for the worksite. Another great idea–Foreman is just fuckin’ full of them. When I left to go find my son, I found him on his knees in front of Luis, sucking his cock! Fuck, I was kind of freaked out, but I hid and watched, and damn my boy could work that shaft, it was makin’ me jealous. I didn’t say anything. I waited until they were finished, before walkin’ over.

We got him a fauxhawk, some workwear and boots, and on a whim, we decided to get our nipples pierced. At home, we had cigars and beer to celebrate, and I got him plastered. He couldn’t resist, I had his mouth around my cock, fuck, he was hungry for it. He must have wanted me for so long–guess that means this gay shit’s genetic right? Turns out Jack was a raging fag just like me. By Friday, he was just one more guy on the site, like the rest of us. Bullshittin’, smokin’, drinkin’, fuckin’. He fucked me while everybody watched before we all went out for Friday night beers (and bears) at the Eagle, fuck, I was so proud of him. Needless to say, he decided college wasn’t for him–he dropped out of school and came to work with us. We still live together, ‘n we couldn’t be happier. See? Things always change, and you never know when they might change for the better.

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