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Truck Stop

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The muggy heat of a Texas evening pressed into the truck. Beads of sweat collected on the nape of Ben’s neck, and he wicked them away with his hand. Shorts clung to his thighs, and the tank he wore seemed as skin tight as possible, but at least he was cooler than his dad, who still wore his long-sleeve work shirt, with the company logo stitched onto the chest, and the heavy jeans he nearly always wore. The cab of the truck was tall and comfortable, but only when the air conditioner was on. It wasn’t now. Even though the sun had set at least an hour ago, the heat of the day hadn’t diminished. It was like the air clung onto it, not letting it dissipate. 


Turning, Ben looked out the window and peered curiously into the night, but he couldn’t see where his dad had wandered off to. The rest stop was filled with rows and rows of eighteen wheelers, jam packed in. A few meters away, the convenience store and motel that occupied this stretch of highway, the only rest stop for miles around. It was his dad’s favorite rest stop. They stopped here every time they drove through. Just outside of Dallas, it was out of the way, secluded. The cars from the Interstate drove past without even pausing. It had a reputation. No one that didn’t have to stopped here. Except the ones that wanted to. 


With the overhead light turned on, Ben leaned back in his seat and put his feet up on the dash. He read through the magazine he’d picked up a few stops ago, but his attention was quickly waning. Looking out the window again, he sighed openly. His dad was taking a long time tonight, and Ben was ready to get going. The sooner they did, the sooner he could curl up in his own bed, at home. No more motel rooms or sleeping in the back of the truck cab. He could sit in front of his perfectly working air conditioner at home, fanning himself. It would feel good, and he wouldn’t have to worry about his dad coming and turning it off to save gas. 


Another minute passed, and Ben huffed out an annoyed sigh. His dad didn’t usually take this long. He was tired. Grumpy. Opening up the door, Ben carefully slipped out of the truck and climbed down onto the pavement. Moving down along the semi-trailer, he circled around the back and looked around for his dad. He’d been told to stay in the truck, but it was hotter in there than it was out here. At least Ben could feel the breeze a bit. The smell was normal, and it didn’t phase him. Oil, gas, and sweat permeated thickly in the air, but he didn’t mind. 


Heading around, Ben finally stopped when he saw his dad. And the boy on his knees in front of him. Crossing his arms, he walked closer, lip curling up a bit. “You take too long,” he said, and saw his dad’s eyes snap over to him. He looked pissed, but he didn’t bother stopping. “It’s hot in the truck. You took the keys so I couldn’t keep the air on. I’m tired. Come on, just do your thing so we can leave.” 


“Ben, go get back in that truck before I bend you over my knee,” Han gruffed, his voice a bit strained. His hand circled through the hooker’s hair, holding him in place while he gathered himself enough to deal with his misbehaving son. Ben knew that look anywhere, and he knew that his dad was one hundred percent serious. He hadn’t been spanked since he was a child. A child! And his dad wanted to threaten him with it now, just because he had to get off. 


Putting his hands on his hips, Ben pursed his lips and looked anywhere but down. He could hear the wet suckling sounds, the press of a cock going down the hooker’s throat, and his dad let out a sound that made a shiver travel down his back. Ben stared up at the sky, a black and starless sky. Around here, the lights of the city and the air pollution didn’t let you peer anything more than inky blackness. Ben had been used to that, ever since he was a baby. When they did pass through unpopulated areas, he always found the night sky something of a miracle. But there was nothing beautiful on this muggy night. “Fine! But hurry!” 


He didn’t want the embarrassment of taking his dad’s belt, or his hand, so Ben turned back and started walking around and back toward their truck. The haulers were large and tall, stretching over him, and the wheels hit mostly around his hip, but he was used to that by now. Circling back around, Ben nearly managed to fully get to the cab again when a hand grabbed at his bare arm and whipped him back around. “Da-” he started, but the complaint died on his lips when he realized the man holding onto him wasn’t his father. 


“Cute,” he said, as if he wasn’t even talking directly to Ben. Rather, he was muttering to himself, as if he was looking over a piece of meat and appraising its value. Ben pulled his arm free, taking a step back away. “Now where you going?” the man asked him, and then those thick hands were on his hips, dragging him closer. Ben looked away, smelling the stench of cigarettes on his breath as he leaned in close. “Pretty boy like you, gots to be worth a least fifty, right?” 


“No,” he said, pressing his hands up against the man’s chest to try and wriggle his way free. 


“Ah, more then. Don’t worry. I can pay it.” He seemed blissfully unaware of Ben’s discomfort, or his struggle to get free, and the larger man found it easy to force him down onto his knees. 


His dad had been bringing him by places like this since Ben was thirteen, fourteen years old. He knew the drill. He knew that local boys hung around the place, looking to pleasure men for some money, probably to fuel their drug habits. Ben didn’t know. Dad had always made him stay in the cab, told him to never leave, but Ben had always been a bit of a scamp. He’d glanced his fair share of illicit affairs in places like this, and he knew the drill. That’s why it was no surprise to him to find his dad with his cock down some hooker’s throat. 


But Ben wasn’t a hooker, and he didn’t want to do this. He tried to squirm away, but a hand fisted in his hair and tugged his head back. Ben shut his eyes tightly, hearing the sound of a zipper going down, the rustle of fabric. He could smell it. The heady, heavy smell of heat and flesh, sweat. It was revolting, and he shook his head. “Please, do-” 


The head was pressed to his lips, and Ben could already feel wetness forming on the tip. It slid inside, and Ben could do nothing but press his hands up against thick thighs to try and force him back. The thought of biting went through his head, but he really, really didn’t want to piss this guy off. He thought, maybe if he was careful, the guy would just take use and leave. Or maybe his dad would come around the corner and deal with this. 


His jaw ached, the size of the cock keeping it stretched wide. Uncomfortable, Ben shut his eyes and tried to pretend none of this was happening. The tip hit the back of his throat, and he gagged harshly. Coughing, he jerked back and away, spittle drooling from between his parted lips and dripping onto his chest. He kept his eyes shut, the laugh above him sending shudders all the way down his spine. “Can’t take my size, boy? You’re really not experienced, are you?” 


Hands gripped onto his hair, pulling Ben back down onto the man’s cock. He gagged again, but the man didn’t stop this time. Even as he choked on him, Ben’s throat was fucked roughly. Each snap of the man’s hips sent his cock violently down, and Ben could only slump in his hold and try to take it the best he could. If he fought, Ben was sure this man would hurt him. It was disgusting: the smell, the taste, the texture. Heady and hot, the man’s harpooning dick throbbed in his mouth. And then, the taste of salt on his tongue. 


Orgasming, the man pulled out, and the rest of his release shot onto Ben’s face. He felt the disgusting cum dripping along his nose and chin. Spit ran down his face, coating his chin. He felt disgusting, absolutely terrible. His throat was sore, his jaw ached, and Ben felt tears stinging hotly in his eyes. He stayed on his knees, more disturbed by the event than anything, and suddenly a wad of money was shoved at him. “Here, kid,” the man said, and Ben watched the bills being dropped to the ground when he didn’t take them immediately. “Weren’t even that good at it.” 


The man’s pants zipped up, and his boots stomped loudly away. Ben felt his lower lip trembling as he fought off the need to cry. After a second, he picked up the bills and straightened them out. Forty dollars in the form of two greasy twenties. He crumpled them in his hand, tears starting to streak hotly down his cheeks. He felt more violated than he thought was possible. 


He heard the sound of footfalls, and he flinched, thinking it was the vile man come back for more, but the hands that grabbed his arms and pulled him to his feet were rough, calloused, familiar. “Daddy,” his voice broke, and Ben started to sob. A rag suddenly rubbed at his face, wiping away the cum that he hadn’t wanted to touch. 


“Benny, Benny, this is why I told you to stay in the damn truck,” Dad said, and his voice was gruff. But there was also a genuine concern there. Ben knew his dad wasn’t good at emotions, but he cared. “Fuck,” he cursed, then tilted Ben’s face up slightly. “We...come on, mlet’s get a room. You can shower.” 


Ben nodded. He was crying so hard. He didn’t think he could stop. Leaning forward, he hugged his dad tight and shut his eyes. Dad hugged him back and let him figure himself out for a minute. When his cries got somewhat under control, Dad took his hand instead and walked him toward the motel. Just past the fill-up station. 


“Did you notice the logo he was wearing or anything like that?” Dad asked. Ben shook his head. “Fuck, that’s okay. Fucking bastard.” 


Ben wiped at his eyes. “You do the same thing.” 


Dad didn’t say anything after that, just walked him into the motel’s front lobby. It was as decrepit and dirty on the inside as one would expect. Ben realized he still had the crumpled bills in his hand, and he moved around his dad and dropped them both onto the counter. The attendant stared back at him, appraisingly, then he snapped up the money without a word and reached behind him to grab a key from one of the hooks on the wall. Ben stepped away, letting his dad take the key, then he grabbed his hand and walked out into the night again, around the building, and up a flight of stairs. The air was muggy, heavy. Ben felt like he was drinking the moisture from the air. 


He was staring at his feet, trying not to think, when he heard the sounds of moans and gasps, flesh hitting flesh. He looked up as they rounded a corner and saw two bodies locked in erotic bliss. The prostitute was held up against the wall with his legs wrapped right around the trucker’s waist. And the trucker had his pants and underwear around his ankles. There was no shame to either of them. Dad wrapped an arm around him, trying to shield him as they walked by, but Ben was numb to it. He didn’t care anymore. His tears stopped. All cried out, or maybe just shutting down. He felt numb. 


“Bastards should get a room,” Dad muttered under his breath, and Ben swallowed thickly. He pulled away when they got to their door, the last in the row, and he watched his dad unlock the door. He could have said something back again, but he didn’t. Ben didn’t want to pick a fight right now. He could still taste the tang of salt in his mouth, and his throat hurt from being brutalized. Stepping into the room, he moved immediately to the bathroom, opening the door and stepping inside. It was as disgusting as he would have expected. The tiles in the shower were old and shifted, browning in between, and he was sure he saw some type of mold growing in the corner. Ben locked the door, then stripped down to nothing and got in the shower, turning the water on. 


The facet drizzled. The water pressure was next to nothing, and it seemed to have two settings: luke warm and cold. Ben rubbed at his arms, letting the water soak into his skin, but he still felt disgusting. This wasn’t the type of place with complimentary shampoos. There was a tiny bar of soap sitting in a nook in the shower wall, and Ben picked it up. He could tell it had been sitting there for who knew how long, but it was his only option at this point. 


Ben showered, his thoughts clouded. He felt like he was drugged and sluggish, like after he’d had his wisdom teeth removed. His brain was just glossed over. A part of him wondered if this was a trauma or if he would just get over it. He opened his mouth and let the water rush in, and he spit it all out with a disgusted expression. Somehow, Ben thought, he would remember the taste of the man’s cock for the rest of his life. He heard the door opening and shutting again. His dad must have left for some reason, probably to get their bags from the truck. He tried to nozzle again, to see if the water would heat anymore, but it only seemed to grow colder. Ben spent a few more minutes scrubbing and rinsing his body with the cheap bar of soap, and eventually he just couldn’t stand the chilly water anymore. He stepped out and grabbed a towel from the rung by the shower. Shaking it out, he made a face when dust flurried away from it, but he still wrapped it around his body and left the bathroom. 


There was only one bed in the room, and it was small and sat in the very center of the wall. Ben didn’t sit on it, holding the towel around himself as he shivered slightly. The grumbling, sluggish air conditioner chugged where it sat against the window on the opposite wall, and the thick, brown curtains were drawn completely shut. Ben stood there, his feet sinking into the carpet under him, and he stared blankly forward. Nothing was really in his focus. He thought that being cold was better than hot, and he didn’t bother drying his hair, which was dripping onto his shoulders. The door opened again. 


He looked up finally, watching his dad dragging the bags inside, holding them both with one hand. His other arm was piled up with snacks, probably pillaged from some vending machine he’d found. There was a table in the corner, and dumped them all there. Ben walked over, sitting down at the table, dragging his towel tighter around himself as he pilfered through the stash. He grabbed a bag of chips, pulling it open with his teeth. He dug out a chip, beginning to eat it without a second through. Dad dropped the bags on the bed, glancing at him, then he just cleared his throat and walked into the bathroom himself. 


Ben was pretty desensitized to this kind of thing. They’d shared small quarters for a long time. Having to work out awkward sleeping arrangements, share tiny bathrooms, even sometimes wash in the same open shower at random rest stations in the backwoods of nowhere. Sitting in a towel in front of him was no big deal, so when it seemed that his dad was uncomfortable with it, well… Ben glanced up and watched him go, then he turned back to his chips and finished them up. He dug through the others, but there wasn’t much left that was appetizing in the vending machine haul. He got up, feeling a bit dryer now, and he dropped his towel by the bed and grabbed his bag to dig through it. 


Ben just stepped into a clean pair of underwear when his dad left the bathroom again. He stood in the doorway, and Ben turned his head and glanced at the man. He blinked, then threw on a t-shirt that he reserved for sleeping in, then he got on the bed and drew his legs up to his chest. “Why are you staring at me like that?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow curiously. 


“You okay?” Dad asked him, avoiding the question for some reason. He crossed his arms. 


“No.” Ben looked away, shrugging his shoulders. “Don’t think I’ll be okay for a long time, actually.” He didn’t want to talk about this. The fact it had happened at all was horrible, but worse still was the fact his dad had found him like that. Covered in cum, still on his knees. 


“I wish there was...something, I could do. Go the cops or something. Report the bastard.” 


“You’d get in trouble, too,” Ben said, tilting his head a bit. “You were out there, paying some teenager to suck you off.” He turned away, then stuck his legs under the blankets and laid down. “I really, really don’t want to do about this.” 


“I think we need to.” Dad walked around the bed, then bent down to look him in the eye. “You’re going to...need to deal with this, I think. I know that I’m...not the best. But, please, tell me what I need to do.” His dad seemed to study him, his eyes worried. Ben didn’t know how to answer him. He wasn’t used to deep heart-to-hearts. This wasn’t like them. He wondered why his dad cared so much. 


“Did mom leave us because you were into guys?” he asked, looking down at the brown carpet, clicking his teeth together. His dad shifted, obviously surprised by his question, and he heard his throat clearing. “You’ve been doing this kind of thing since she left us, and I was just...wondering. Why you’re always fucking these prostitutes and acting like you didn’t have a wife for ten years.” 




“No! I wanna know. I have a right to know.” He felt like screaming from the top of his lungs. If Dad didn’t bring him to these seedy places, this never would have happened. “Did you chase her away.” 


His dad moved up onto the bed, sitting in front of him. “There are lots of reasons your mom and me split up,” he said, and Ben recognized that disgusting placating tone in his voice. “The main one...honestly, she wanted to follow her political career, and I was holding her back. And she didn’t want a messy custody battle.” 


Ben rolled his eyes. “So it had nothing to do with you wanting to fuck these teenagers?” 


“You should watch your language, and no, that came after.” Dad grunted at him, standing up, then he patted the top of his head. “I’ll try not to do it in front of you anymore, since it seems to upset you so much.”


Ben scowled. “Don’t...don’t patronize me like that! I’m not a child anymore!” 


“I know!” Dad snapped at him, then stepped away from the bed. “I get that you’re not a kid...and I think about that a lot these days.” He looked down. “You’re growing up. I look at you, and...sometimes I don’t see my kid, I see a young man that I don’t know.” 


Ben shook his head. “Whatever.” He noticed the penetrating gaze that he was getting, so he turned around and laid against the pillows. The motel bed with lumpy and uncomfortable. Felt like there were broken springs underneath him, and every time he shifted, there was a metallic whine. Ben laid still, listening to footsteps moving away and back into the bathroom again. He didn’t think much of it. Closing his eyes, Ben worked to block out everything and sleep. Eventually, he managed, thought it wasn’t very restful. 


He woke up to heavy breathing, skin slapping, and a lot of heat building under the sheets. Ben didn’t open his eyes, not yet realizing what he was hearing. He heard a soft string of curses, a familiar voice, and he slowly came to. The fog of sleep left him, and Ben felt the bed shift, the protesting springs underneath him, and he knew exactly what he was hearing. Opening his eyes slowly, Ben peered at his dad’s face. He was staring at him, downwards at his chest, seemingly scanning what little of his body he could see, and his hand was under the blankets with the rest of his body, moving quickly back and forth. 


Ben panicked, not knowing what to do. He listened to his dad’s grunts and heavy breathing, unsure that this was even happening. It felt like a crash dream. A moment later, he felt the covers being moved down his body, exposing him. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter, feeling a hand just lightly ghosting over his thigh. “Fuck, Benny, fuck.” His Dad’s voice was undeniably turned on, rough and deep. It sent chills down his spine. 


A moment after, the hand went away, and he heard his dad stop jacking himself off. He wanted to breath a sigh of relief, but soon the bed was shifting. He was rolled onto his back, the covers being moved down to his ankles, and his dad straddled him. He felt his shirt being pulled up, his stomach and chest showing, and his dad kissed him there softly. “Beautiful boy.” His heavy cock hung down, brushing against Ben’s crotch. “Sleep, precious, I’ll take care of you.” His dad started going again, stroking himself quickly. “Fuck, good boy. You’re so hot.” 


The harsh whispers were almost the worst part. The fact his dad was masterbating over him was disgusting, but to know that he was actually fantasizing about him was even sicker. His dad leaned closer, and Ben felt hot breath against his chest. Then, a tongue rubbed on his nipple. Ben tensed up slightly, but it seemed Dad was too far gone to notice. 


Opening his eyes again, Ben watched uncertainly, his dad wasn’t looking at him. He continued to lick at his nipple, groaning and moving his hand faster. Latching his lips around it, he began to suck and twirl his tongue in circles. It was just dark enough that he couldn’t really see that much detail, but the light in the bathroom was on, giving him a good outline of his dad’s hulking body situated over him. 


Dad’s mouth lifted, leaving his nipple coated in saliva which quickly chilled on his skin. “Wanna fuck you so bad,” he whispered. 


Ben made a face at that, then decided enough was enough. “Stop it! Stop! You’re sick! You’re absolutely sick!” His dad frozen, and Ben pushed at his chest. The man didn’t budge, just panted over him, his cock still in hand. Ben whined, reaching over and flicking the lamp beside the bed, which was just close enough. He regretted it, thinking of how dumb a decision of was. Now he could see everything. His dad’s face, sweaty and warped in shock. His bare chest. His cock, reddened and held in his hand, jewels of precum gathered at the head. 


“Get off me!” He demanded, blushing terribly. “You can’t do this!”


Dad still didn’t move. “Why did you wake up?” He asked, seemingly in a stupor. “How could you wake up? You were exhausted. I...didn’t expect you to wake up.” 


Ben looked down at his dick again, and Dad let it go. It felt heavily against his crotch again. Ben’s briefs were made of a thin material, and he could feel the curve of his cock heavily pressing down against him. It sent a strange feeling through him. “You’re sick,” he said again. The same hand that had just been holding his cock suddenly cupped his face, and Ben scowled. His dad leaned closer, beginning to move his hips in slow circles. Ben stared at him in confusion. 


“I’ve waited for...for this. I’ve waited for you to wake up, I guess. Because you had to find out sooner or later. You’re not a little boy anymore. You’re a man. You’re beautiful. I want you so badly, Benny. Can I have you?” 


“No!” Ben started to sit up, wanting to scramble away from his dad, wanting him to snap out of this perverted delusion. 


Dad pushed him back down onto the mattress, causing it to squeak. He pressed his hips down harder, then smacked him lightly on the cheek, chastisement that made him blush. “Behave yourself. You’re not a little boy anymore. You’re a man. A beautiful, beautiful young man.” Dad leaned in, beginning to kiss him softly. Ben didn’t move, his lips trembling as Dad pressed his own down. Ben didn’t reciprocate the kiss, even as his jaw was gently pried open and a tongue slipped into his mouth. Dad moaned as he rubbed their tongues together, and his began dragging his cock up and down on Ben’s crotch. He was starting to feel warm. His dad’s chin was stubbly, and his body was big and warm. When he felt his cock hardening, a blush tore its way across his face. He heard a satisfied sound from his dad, and he depended the kiss in celebration. 


When dad finally pulled out of the kiss, Ben was fully hard, and his lips were swollen and tender. Dad slipped off of him, then hooked his fingers in the waistband in his underwear, gently tugging them down. Ben watched him, nearly on the verge of tears, and he tried to convince himself to fight back. Get up. Run. Where would he go, though? Right into the arms of another percent outside? He doubted anyone around here would care, or help. His cock was exposed to the air, and if sprung up, taunting him. Did he really want this? Dad pulled his briefs down to his knees, then he leaned down and slurped Ben’s cock into his mouth. 


An obscene sucking sound came from his throat, and Ben squirmed against the mattress. Warm and wet, his mouth was almost heavenly. But Ben couldn’t enjoy it. He didn’t want to let himself. His toes curled, body moving, and Dad bobbed his head up and down slowly. “Dad, can’t do this to me. It’s...disgusting.” His dad let out a wet, slurping down as he moved off his dick, then he tongued at his balls. Licking them, sucking on them, and Ben moaned softly in response. 


“Dad? Please. I don’t want to see you do this to me!” He curled his toes, but there was no pleasure in his expression. His body was taut. His underwear were ripped off completely, and Dad through them onto the floor. Sitting up, he kissed his lips again, smiling as if this was all acceptable. His shirt was pulled off, and Ben let it happen. Why was he letting his happen? 


“You can pull the covers up, and you won’t have to watch me,” Dad said. “It’s your first time, so I understand. It’s confusing, but…” He stroked his cheek gently. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I just have to fuck you. I’ve been holding off for a long time.” 


Dad slid his legs under the blankets, pulling them up. Ben’s mind was rushing. He took the blankets when they were offered to him, pulling them up over his dad, and he moaned when his cock was sucked on again. His lips moved along the side, tongue lavishing his skin with saliva. When Dad got to the tip, he slid down to the base again. 


His legs were guided out, spreading wide, and Ben let this happen. His dad settled on the mattress between them, suckling on his cock. Ben looked at the ceiling, shuddering when fingers began tracing patterns on his inner thighs. He was shaking all over, and tears pricked in his eyes. Dad kept going, and Ben felt his balls tighten, a cooling warmth in his stomach. He came, crying out softly, and tears overflowed. His dad sucked and swallowed his cum, pressing his legs apart when Ben tried to close them. 


The rush of endorphins was too much. His lips pulled back; Ben didn’t know if he was scowling or smiling. His body shuddered, toes curling. He was so hot. The covers weren’t helping, but he didn’t dare move them down. Dad pulled off his cock, which stung and tingled when it dropped from his lips, and he kept moving downward. Ben felt his tongue tracing a sloppy pattern all the way to his hole, which clenched up in expectation. 


Tongue circling his hole, Ben tried not to let this get to him. He watched the ceiling, looking for patterns in the cracks and watermarks. The motel was filthy, the bed was filthy, his dad was filthy. Everything in his life was. Penetrating him, the tongue was hot and wet, and it slid into him with some resistance. Ben gripped onto the blanket and furrowed his brows. “Dad…” he pleaded with the man to no avail. His tongue was exploring, licking him in places more intimate than any other. Tears dripped down his cheeks.


A finger began inching inside. It burned. Ben tensed up, shaking his head back and forth. Of course, Dad couldn’t see him, and going by everything else tonight, wouldn’t have stopped even if he could. His tongue left, and Ben felt the finger push in deeper, all the way to his knuckle. He didn’t think a finger, a single digit, could feel so big. Dad began sucking on his dick, which was merely twitching and soft since his orgasm, and Ben let out a high string of whines. He felt very sensitive and already used. The finger now pushing deeper only worsened it. 


Shyly, he lifted up the blanket and peered under. He had to see. He had to, for some reason. His mind was burning in his skull. He made eye contact with his dad, who was sucking on his cock, and it made a shot of arousal shoot through Ben’s body. He dropped the blanket again, this time gripping at the sheets, scared of his own reaction. The tip of a second finger began to push into him, and he howled loudly, back arching up off the bed. It hurt so much, but they were curving, curling, pressing against his walls, exploring. 


He whined again, and Dad pulled off his cock. The third finger pushing in hurt him badly, and he beat his fist against the mattress underneath him, ineffectual, pointless. Dad licked around his fingers, pushing more saliva into his hole with every movement. It burned, despite that, and Ben gnashed his teeth together. Dad seemed like he tried to find something, but he gave up, pulling his fingers all the way out. Ben’s hole gaped, aching. He felt disgusting. The blanket shifted, and his dad crawled out, slotting his hips against Ben’s, he grinded his hard cock against him as he looked down. Ben glanced up, making eye contact, and he smiled. Dad was looking at him as if he was the whole world, which made this all seem so much worse. 


Reaching down, his dad guided the tip inside, and pushed. “Wait,” Ben gasped, but it was too late. The cock was being fed into his body, stretching him out, and Ben tossed his head back and cried. He felt it when Dad bottomed out inside him, wetness inside him. Somehow, he knew that he had torn and was bleeding. But Dad just moved, pulling out and pushing in again. Ben squirmed against the mattress, gripping the sheets and crying. Dad shushed him, but there was no real command behind it, or comfort. He could scream at the top of his lungs, and no one would come to save him. Not here. 


A rhythm was set. Constant, fast, but not hard. Dad kissed his forehead, and Ben squeezed his eyes shut. One hand gripped his hip, the other propping up near his shoulder. Dad grunted, moaning under his breath, and he moved a bit faster. “Fuck, Benny. You’re tight as I imagined.” His lips moved to his cheek, then pressed to his mouth. Ben didn’t move or respond, even as Dad sucked on his bottom lip. The room was beginning to smell like sweat, and it was incredibly hot. Ben could feel sweat beginning to wet the back of his neck, his hair. It stuck to his skin. Dad kissed him deeper. 


The mattress began to squeak, thrusts speeding up, and Ben winced and turned his face away from his dad’s constant kissing. He gasped a few times, listening to the headboard thumping against the wall behind him, the springs in the lumpy mattress protesting loudly. Dad moved his hand to his thigh, dragging his leg further up around his waist. His vision blurred, more tears dripping from his eyes, and the wall and the floor and the table across the room all turned into a gooey mess of blurred shapes and colors. Like the world was melting around him. Dad grunted loudly, and his cock throbbed inside, cum splattered his walls. It was warm and thick, and it felt disgusting. When Dad pulled out, Ben could feel the remnants leaking out of him and onto the sheets. Dad laid down beside him, panting, kissing his neck. 


“You did good. It won’t hurt as much next time,” Dad said, then reached around him, arm trapping Ben to the mattress. He swallowed thickly, closing his legs under the blanket, wincing as he turned away. Dad simply reeled him backwards, until he was nesting against his body. With his free hand, Dad swept his damp hair away from his neck and kissed it softly. “We’ll go shower in the morning, okay. I want another round tonight.” 


Ben squeaked unhappily at that, seemingly able to handle almost anything else. But the thought of having sex again was nearly too much to bear. “Please, no. I can’t do it. Dad...Daddy, please.” He reached up and wiped his eyes, sniffling softly. “I can’t.” 


“Don’t be selfish, Benny. I’ve been waiting a long time to do this. You’re young. Have a lot of stamina. I remember what it was like at that age.” 


“That is so far from the point!” He felt a spike of hot anger, and Ben threw himself out of his Dad’s hold and scrambled out of bed. He picked up his shirt and pulled it on, then stomped into the bathroom, wincing all the way. He felt something sticky running down his leg, but he ignored the disgusting sensation until he got to the bathroom and was able to shut the door. He tried to lock it, but groaned when he realized there was no lock. Cheap fucking motel. He couldn’t stand it here. Ben ran some water in the sink, then reached behind himself, feeling at his swollen, gaping hole. His fingers came away caked in cum and slightly blood. He wetted a rag that was sitting on the counter and washed himself, wincing a few times as he did so. “Get out!” he shouted, when the door opened, and he turned to glare at his dad. 


“Ben.” He stared at him, his eyes wide, and there was a tremor to his voice when he spoke. “Ben, I’m sorry. I tried to make it feel good for you. I’ will next time. I promise. I’m not used to trying. The hookers don’t care if I make them come. But you do. I’ll...come here.” He shut the door behind him as he came in, naked completely. Ben shook his head, but he found himself backed up into the counter. The sink was still running. He dropped the rag in his hand when his dad grabbed his leg and hoisted it up. Fingers trailed down his thigh again, and he clung to his dad, feeling them travel to his hole. Two pushed in, and he winced, arching up against his dad and whining. 


“Not like this, it’s...I’ll fall.” He shook his head, and the fingers retreated. Instead, he turned around, bending over the counter, and he turned off the water. Dad’s fingers went back inside him, and he grunted in discomfort. If this was going to happen, if he couldn’t stop it, then he needed to try and get it over with as fast as possible. Lips pressed to his back, kisses trailing down his spine. He glared at his reflection in the mirror, fingers plundering deep inside his ass. 


“Tell me when it feels good,” Dad said, and he moved them around, touching his walls in a circle, and he crooked his fingers and pressed even harder. Ben’s toes curled against the cheap linoleum under his feet. Pulling his shirt again, Dad began kissing at the small of his back, licking the sweat from his skin. Ben whimpered softly, then he ducked his head and just grasped at strands of his hair. 


“Why do you want to do this to me?” he asked, his voice shaky and breathy. He couldn’t stand the feeling, but it continued regardless of his feelings. “I’m your son. This isn’t normal.” 


“You’re beautiful,” Dad said, curving his fingers again. “Perfect. I don’t know what I did to deserve you. That man took you tonight, shoved his cock in your mouth, made you a fucking object.” The slow drag of his fingers inside made Ben shudder. The movement against his rim was making him feel raw. “I realized, it was time. I’d been waiting for you to be ready for me. Ready for me to take, but that...that man, he was your first, technically, and I hated that it wasn’t me. I should have taken you a long time ago.” 


Ben didn’t get a chance to respond. Dad’s fingers hit something inside him, and he lurched forward, hips slamming into the countertop painfully. He yowled, pleasure this time, white hot like liquid in his veins, and his cock throbbed to life. Dad bit at the round of his ass, hitting the spot again. Ben spread his legs, gasping loudly. His fingers tugged harder at his hair. He was out of breath, just from two brushes to that spot. His prostate, must have been, and then Dad was pushing against it, rubbing him there incessantly. His knees buckled slightly, and he opened his mouth to moan.

“Good boy,” Dad whispered, biting him again, and he stabbed his fingers harder into that bundle of nerves. “You should learn to trust me. I’ll always make you feel good, if you let me.” His fingers moved out slowly, then back in. Ben whimpered softly when he brushed his prostate again. Dad gently pressed at him, getting him to stay still, then he moved his fingers quickly, faster than ever, and Ben’s cock drooled precum onto the floor. He was close. He was there. Ben hit the precipice of his orgasm and went barreling over the edge, toes digging into the floor as he yanked on his hair. He came untouched, squirting cum on the front of the counter. Dad massaged his prostate while he came, his body shaking all over. When it was all over, he slumped, knees finally giving out completely. 


Dad’s fingers were tugged out of him, and he was lifted up off the counter and carefully carried back to bed. He looked at the blood on the sheets for a few seconds, then just rolled and pulled the covers over his vulnerable body. He was exhausted, eyes heavy. But he didn’t want to fall asleep. He thought he’d just die if he woke up to his dad furiously jerking off on top of him again. 


“We won’t go again tonight,” he whispered, then kissed the back of Ben’s head. Dad was gentle, making sure the blanket was tight around him, stroking at his side, then slipping onto the bed behind him. “You’re tired. It’s your first time. We won’t do more tonight. Goodnight, Ben.” He curved his body around Ben’s from behind again. Slowly, he was starting to realize that this was going to be the new normal. 


“Goodnight,” he replied, after a moment of hesitation. He didn’t want to treat this as something that should be normal, but he had no option. His dad was all he had in the world. He’d been abandoned by everyone else. This thought sent him off to sleep, and he was able to actually rest this time, without disturbance. 


Another seedy motel, another lumpy mattress. Dad moaned underneath him as Ben bounced on his cock. Hands were lightly on his hips, not holding on or guiding him. He could feel that his Daddy was close. Ben’s eyes were blurry and unfocused, pointed at the wall, disassociated from his body. It was the best way to survive. “I love you, Benny,” he said said, suddenly gripping him hard, bucking up into him as he came.


Ben felt the rush of hot cum inside him, a familiar feeling. “I love you, too, Daddy.”