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A Pigtown Halloween (Incomplete; Permanent Hiatus) by Wesley Bracken

~Episode 1: Old Pervert~

Harvey parked a few blocks away from the club, looked around to make sure there was no one around who might recognize him, and then climbed out of the car. He wasn't entirely sure why he had gotten the invitation from the club for their Halloween party, especially since it was a gay club, but he had been known to swing both ways, always as a top, of course. He couldn't risk tarnishing his BMOC credentials if it got out that he had pleasured someone other than himself. He was wearing baggy jeans and a hoodie pulled up over his head to give him some anonymity, and had the invite tucked in the pocket. After locking his car, he walked the two or three blocks over to the party.

Of course, there were at least five other parties Harvey had promised to attend, about one for each of the girls he was seeing publically at the time, but when it came time to get ready, none of them had interested him. So instead, he was walking up to the door of a gay club, and the bouncer checking invitations at the door. He flashed the paper, and was let into an elaborately decorated entry hall, almost as though he was being let into an old mansion. The illusion was really quite good, with realistic cobwebs, and flickering candlelight. The oddest part was that the entire room had no windows, despite the fact that Harvey was sure he had seen windows on the outside. It was a bit disorienting, as he waited in line to be greeted by the bulky man dressed all in black, accompanied by a cloak and a cane. Next to him were two more overly muscled bouncers handing out costumes to the revelers, and directing them to a wall of changing rooms. After a minute or two, Harvey was at the front of the line, and the man shook his hand. "Ah, Harvey Mansfield, the star quarterback! So glad you could fit us into your busy Halloween schedule," he said, and then handed him a pile of clothes, "Jerome will direct you to your changing room. Enjoy the night!"

The large black bouncer directed Harvey quickly to a room, and nearly shoved him in, even before Harvey could realize what had happened. How had that man recognized him so quickly, and in his disguise? Harvey didn't really care all that much, and took a look at the clothes the man had handed him. The pile was surprisingly bulky, and after a bit of investigation, Harvey saw that he had been given a very large and elaborate fat suit, along with a set of conservative business attire fit for someone fifty years older than him. It certainly wasn't anything he was going to wear. He tried to exit the small room to complain, but it had been locked. On the opposite wall was another door, but that one was closed too. When he touched the door, a strange voice spoke from nowhere in particular, "Only those in their costumes can enter the party," and said nothing more, though the room seemed to close in a bit on Harvey, as he continued jiggling the knobs. Before long, he was certain that the walls were going to collapse on him, and in a panic, he began stripping out of his clothes, and the walls began to recede.

It would be humiliating, but he could put it on for a moment, and then find his way out of this nut house without losing too much face. Besides, it wasn't like anyone would recognize him in this getup. What did he have to lose? He unfurled the suit and climbed into it, finding it one piece, like a rubber body suit. The outside felt unnervingly real, and was covered all over with a pelt of white body hair. The front opened up, allowing him to step in to the feet of the suit, and pull it up around him. The fat suit was sagging, like it was unfilled, though Harvey wasn't sure what he was supposed to fill it up with. Figuring it would all come clear eventually, he kept zipping it up, the gut swinging over and disguising the closure beneath it, though it too was saggy, as were the arms.

He expected that to be the entire suit, but he felt behind him a hood, which he pulled over his head, revealing itself to be a form fitting, rubber mask. The top was bald, aside from a horseshoe of curly hair around it, and a thin piece of rubber crossed above his mouth, giving him a bristly white moustache. The rest of the mask was covered with wrinkles, and in the mirror, even Harvey had to admit that he looked like he had the face of an old man. A low hissing filled the room, and the entire suit began to slowly expand, however, Harvey wasn't sure what it was filling with. It sounded like air, but he could actually feel the weight piling on him. It also didn't slosh like water. When it stopped, the rest of the illusion was complete, and the rest of him looked old and fat too. Of course, it still felt like a suit, which was some consolation, that at least it was an illusion. Just to check, he lifted up the heavy apron and saw his own cock pointing out, though the suit had absorbed much of its length, making it appear much smaller than it actually was. He certainly wasn't going to be scoring any tail in this getup, but then again, he was only going to be wearing it long enough to get out of this freaky bar.

He quickly pulled on the business attire, starting with the very large briefs and undershirt, then pulling the navy pants up over his gut, and putting on and tucking the business shirt in, which felt more like a sheet of bedding than an item of clothing. Finally, he tied the tie around the neck and slipped on the loafers, and heard the door unlock behind him. He took a final look in the mirror, quite astounded by the realism of the illusion, if not the illusion itself. He looked around the grab his real clothes, but they weren't where he had left them on the floor. In fact, they weren't anywhere. The walls were beginning to close in again, and before he felt like he was going to suffocate, he opened the second door, and made his way out into the club, leaving his clothes behind.

The room he found himself in was a bar, but like everything else, had been entirely redecorated to look like a seedy biker bar. There was a jukebox in a corner playing country music, and a few guys dressed up as truckers and bikers drinking and chatting all around the room. Harvey immediately felt uncomfortable, and as fast as he could, walked out the nearest door, which he assumed would lead outside, but instead he found himself in a long, dark corridor with the occasional wall and doorway leading elsewhere into the complex. However, now Harvey was completely disoriented. The club couldn't be that big, the thought, as he started off, dodging the occasional reveler stumbling down the hall. However, Harvey wasn't used to his new weight, and by the time he had walked fifty feet, he was huffing and panting like the out of shape old man he looked like.

After another fifty feet, all he could focus on was finding somewhere to sit and rest, so he picked the nearest door and found himself in something resembling a strip club, well, an empty strip club. However, there were seats, so he sat down, and wiped his face with his sleeve, desperate to get rid of some of the sweat leaking through his mask. Somewhere in the distance, he heard a grandfather clock begin to chime, and the entire air stilled around him. By the second chime, Harvey had stopped moving too, listening as it rang again and again, and as it continued, a feeling of dread filled his now oversized stomach. It was the witching hour, anything could happen, he though, though he didn't know why, as the clock struck a twelfth time and fell silent, Harvey exhaled, the only sound in the room, and a moment later, the room was filled with lights and a pulsing club beat.

Harvey was caught off guard for several moments, as he tried to adjust to the sound around him, when he could focus again, he saw that a young, muscular black man dressed in nothing more than a thong had strutted out onto the stage and begun dancing around the pole in the middle of the room. "Hey big boy," he called out, "Why don't you come a bit closer?" and began grinding his groin against the pole.

Harvey was hot again, but for an entirely different reason. Pure lust and desire gripped him, as he heaved himself up and waddled down to where the muscleman was gyrating. He sat down again, never taking his eyes away, tweaking one of his nipples and rubbing his crotch suggestively. "Yeah man," he said with a much deeper voice than he remembered having, "Shake that fuckin' tight ass."

"I can only shake it if it has the money to keep it goin' mister," the muscle man said innocently, and quickly, Harvey dug into one of his pockets and pulled out a fat wallet stuffed full of cash. He pulled out a five, and wheezing a bit, managed to tuck it into the band of the man's thong. As the man began gyrating again, Harvey fell back into his seat and began tweaking his nipples again, amazed at how sensitive they were. That thought was followed by the realization that he shouldn't be able to feel his nipples at all. Surprised, Harvey rubbed his massive body, and found that he could feel everything--from his sagging man tits to hefty gut and even his second and third chins. In a panic, he tried to pull his mask off, but found that it had disappeared. His face simply was wrinkled, his moustache was real, and his head was missing most of its hair.

"What's wrong man?" the stripper asked, seeing Harvey distressed. He hoped down of the stage and began rubbing his hands all over Harvey's fat body, "do you need a big strong muscleman to make you feel better?"

The lust roared back with a vengeance, and Harvey reached out to rub his hand along the man's hard muscles, but he evaded his touch.

"You know the rules old man, if you want more, you got to pay more," the stripper said, now rubbing Harvey's nipples through his shirt.

Moaning and panting, Harvey pulled out his wallet and shoved two twenties at the man, then grabbed him and started rubbing his face into the muscular chest in front of him. "Fuck yeah, I love the way you black hunks smell," he heard himself say, but it was true. Harvey did love the sweaty, masculine musk rolling off the body in front of him. The stripper began gyrating around, grinding his rock hard abs against Harvey's face.

With one hand, he reached under his fat gut and started massaging his cock, but try as he might, he couldn't get it hard, as horny as he was. The stripper reached down to help, and chuckled, "Having some trouble down there, Grandpa?"

Harvey blushed, but it was true. He hadn't had an erection in at least fifty years. He'd tried everything--Viagra, Cialis, but nothing had helped, and with his high blood pressure, his doctor had told him it would be better to just live with impotence. Of course, being impotent doesn't mean one stops wanting sex. Sure, Harvey might get a load out once a month, but that didn't mean he stopped living his life in a haze of lust. "I just...have a bit of a problem, that's all," he grumbled defensively, "It doesn't concern you."

"Aw...I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. Here, pay me a bit more, and I might be able to solve that little problem of yours," the stripper said, and winked.

Harvey was disbelieving, but it wasn't like he didn't have enough money. He dug out a hundred, and handed it to the man, who tucked it into the string of his thong, and extended his hand to Harvey. The man helped him up, and then pushed him up against the stage, and began massaging Harvey's fat body.

"Damn Grandpa, you're huge!" the man said, laughing, and Harvey felt his face turn redder. He thought about saying something, but the man's hands on his fatty rolls felt so good, he just moaned, and wished his cock was hard so he could jack it. Reaching around him, grinding his own hard bulge against him the whole time, the stripper reached around and undid Harvey's pants, then pulled them down and let them fall around his ankles, revealing Harvey's now fat, saggy and very hairy, ass cheeks. "Damn man, that's quite a crevice. Good thing I got enough tool to get down there and more," he said, as Harvey felt the man's large cock rub up and down his crack.

"Hey, wait a minute," Harvey said, and tried to pull away, "That's not what I thought you had in mind!"

"What, you can't seriously be a virgin, can you?" The man said, pulling Harvey close again, "Don't worry, I'll be gentle." With a gradual push, he began to enter Harvey's hole. Harvey expected it to hurt, and it did, but much more interesting, he felt a stirring in his crotch. Inch my massive inch, the man worked his cock deeper into Harvey, and true to his promise, he was gentle, loving even, coddling Harvey the whole way, until he had the old man begging for more. The stirring in his crotch had grown to a full on throb, and with an experimental grope, he reached down and found that his perpetually soft cock had actually expanded to half mast. At the same time, he felt the stripper pull out his cock, and thrust it back in slowly, making Harvey quiver.

"Oh...fuck...that feels so good," Harvey moaned.

"Yeah, you old white men are all the same. 'Oh I couldn't possibly be a bottom' they say, but as soon as you get a big, black cock up your ass, your tune changes real quick, don't it? So, do you want me to fuck your ass? Do you want to be this big black man's bitch for the evening?"

"Oh god, don't stop. Take all the money you want, just please, fuck me!"

"Oh I don't want money," the man said, "I want you to dance for me," he said, and pulled his cock out of Harvey's ass, making the old man whimper. His cock immediately returned to its flaccid state, and the relief he had longed for was now taken from him. The stripper had a seat in the front row, and eyed Harvey, stroking his thick cock, "Well, go on." Hesitantly, Harvey began to sway and gyrate as best he could but the stripper shook his head. "Not down here, up there, on stage. Strip for me. Make me want that fat hairy body of yours."

With a gulp, Harvey pulled his pants up, and slowly walked up the stairs onto the brightly lit stage. Part of him flashed back to his previous reality, and he refused to believe that he was about to strip for a man and beg him for his cock. No BMOC would ever do that! But he wasn't a BMOC, was he? He was an obese, sexually frustrated business man who would do anything for release, even strip in front of a beautiful muscle man and humiliate himself so he might fuck him. The music was surrounding him, egging him on, and pulsating faster. Harvey loosened his tie, and began to gyrate, while the big black man hooted and catcalled, urging Harvey on to more and more perverse moves. He slowly unbuttoned his shirt, revealing a tanktop stretched to the limit by his big gut. It shimmered for a moment, and suddenly Harvey was wearing a harness with thick leather straps running over his shoulders and under his man tits, emphasizing their size. He took one in his hand, and with some difficulty got it close enough to his mouth to lick his nipple, which made the stripper go wild, "There ya go Grandpa, now we're getting somewhere!"

As Harvey undid his belt and slid down his pants, revealing the black cotton jockstrap he was wearing, he said to the stripper in front of him, "You know, I don't even know your name."

"Well, Grandpa," he said, still stroking his massive, black meat, "Why don't you just call me Big Daddy."

Big Daddy--for some reason, that sounded just right to Harvey. He turned around, gyrated his massive ass and said, "So what do you think of my ass Big Daddy?"

"Why I think it's just marvelous Grandpa," the man replied, "Why don't you shove something up there to get ready for my cock?" He tossed something onto the stage, and as Harvey bent over seductively to grab it, he saw that it was a thick black dildo, though not as large as Big Daddy's cock. Unable to help himself, he started licking the shaft up and down, getting it good and wet. He bent over, using the stripper pole for support, and after a bit of work, got it lined up with his hole and started working it in, moaning all the while. After a moment, he realized that he was speaking, though he couldn't control the words falling from his mouth, "Oh Big Daddy, I want your cock shoved up my old loose asspussy so bad, I'd do anything. Oh, it feels so good to have your hard cock buried up there, it's the only thing that can get my cock hard."

"Well, see if you can get some satisfaction with that fuck stick there. Big Daddy loves watching his Grandpa shove a dildo up his ass."

Happy to be pleasing his daddy, Harvey bent over and started ramming the dildo up his ass as hard and as fast as he could, moaning and grunting as he did. He was sweating all over, and his hair was matted to the side of his head, but he couldn't stop. With one hand working the dildo, he rubbed his soft cock through the pouch of his jockstrap, now even more sexually frustrated. He needed his daddy's cock, and he needed it soon, or he would never have relief. "Please daddy," he begged, "Please shove your massive cock up my ass? I need it, I can't live without it!"

"Oh you fuckin' slut, "Big Daddy said, "You know just how to get me all hot and bothered," he said, and hopped up on stage, taking over the task of working the dildo in and out of Harvey's ass. "You want my cock? Then moan for me bitch, tell me what a sorry piece of ass you are." "Please daddy, I'm nothing without your cock. You complete me, even though I'm not worthy. Please, fuck me. Fuck me hard!"

"Are you a slave to my cock?"

"Yes daddy!"

"And I bet you're a slave to every black cock you see, aren't you?"

"God yes, I beg any young black man I see you fuck me silly."

"Well, then it wouldn't be very nice to keep that pussy of yours waiting, would it?" Big Daddy said, pulled the dildo out quickly, and replaced it with his own cock. While he might have been gentle before, he was vicious and rough now, slamming his massive cock deep into Harvey's ass with each thrust. Every time sent a huge shiver through Harvey, who was uncontrollably jacking his own hardening cock and panting like a dog. His old body wouldn't be able to take much more of this, but he couldn't stop. He needed this young man to fill his white ass with his black spunk. Only then would he be able to cum.

"Yeah, jack that puny cock of yours, Grandpa, how does it feel to be a black man's bitch? You tried keeping us down, but the truth is, you can't beat us. All you old farts want our giant cocks up your asses. You beg, you plead, and if you ask nice enough, we're always willing to be accommodating. Only we can give you that satisfaction you desire. Only we can give that old, saggy cock of yours release." Big Daddy said as he began to piston in and out as fast as he could. Old, sour cum was now leaking out of Harvey's rock hard cock, and he was meeting every one of Big Daddy's thrusts, desperate to get his cock as deep as possible. Suddenly, Big Daddy shoved his cock in and held it there, grabbed Harvey around the belly, and turned them both around. Previously, Harvey had been staring at the back of the stage, but now that he was looking out, he saw that when he wasn't looking the entire club had been packed with beautiful, young black men. The sight made Harvey's mouth water, and Big Daddy resumed his fucking, much to the enjoyment of the crowd.

"Yeah Big Daddy, fuck me in front of all of your black brothers. Show them what a bitch I am for black cock!" Harvey said, and the room cheered and laughed. Harvey was embarrassed, but he couldn't stop. The thrusts were coming faster now, and Harvey was jacking his cock wildly now, aching and shivering with lust.

"Yeah you fucking white pig! Take my big black load!" Big Daddy shouted, and began spraying his wad deep into Harvey's bowels. At the same time, Harvey groaned and shot his own, much smaller load, dribbling his cum all over the stage. Out in the audience, men were calling him a pig bitch and a whore, making him blush, but the fires of lust continued to rage within him. He still needed so much release, but Big Daddy was already pulling out, leaving him empty. "Please Big Daddy! Fuck me more, I need your cock!" he begged, making the men laugh some more.

Up front, a hulking black man stroking a cock even bigger than Big Daddy's said, "I'll fuck that disgusting, fat ass of yours pig if you clean my boots." He climbed up on stage, and Harvey immediately got down on his knees and began licking the leather until it shown with his spit. "Yeah pig bitch, oink for me. Oink like the slut you are."

Harvey did his best pig impression causing all of the men in the room to holler and cheer. They loved him, he thought as the black men got down behind him and shoved his cock into Harvey's dribbling hole, and he loved their cocks. "Yeah sir, fuck my fat white cunt!" Harvey yelled, "Everyone fuck my nasty sluthole!" The men cheered, and began to line up for a chance at the old bitch's newly popped cherry.

~Episode 2: Trailer Trash~

On his way home from work, on Halloween night, Robert found himself in a neighborhood he had never been in before. He had been spacing out, thinking about the new account he was managing, when he noticed that he had turned off the freeway at some point and was now driving through downtown, or more likely, through the warehouse district. Even stranger, even though he had noticed what was going on, he still couldn't bring himself to turn around; it was like his body had decided to go somewhere, and his mind had no idea what it was doing. Before long, he parked his expensive Audi next to a meter, climbed out, and started walking towards a large crowd surrounding a bar he didn't recognize. Soon, he saw in neon lights the words Pigtown, and remembered the invitation he had received in the mail not too long ago.

It had been an invite to a Halloween party, but after some research, Robert had discovered it was a seedy looking gay bar downtown, and had thrown it away. He had a wife and two kids; there was no way he was gay, he told himself everyday, as he oogled his young male secretary at work. Having been raised in a very conservative Catholic home, Robert had long sense suppressed his homosexuality, instead committing himself to an unhappy marriage, and a constant rage which he took out on his inferiors at work. He was not a happy person, though he tried to tell himself otherwise. However, the fact that he was being drawn to this place beyond his control terrified him more than anything. He thought he was going insane, that the desires he had buried so long were no going to explode out of him uncontrollably.

As he stepped into the parking lot however, the feeling stopped, and he was in control of his body once again. There was a large line waiting to get into the club, but Robert decided it would be best to just walk away before anyone saw him. Still, there was some part of him which told him he should go in there, but that was the voice of sin speaking, which he had blocked out for too long to succumb to now. Still, they made him hesitate for long enough that someone at the doorway saw him, and walked over. He was a large, muscular man with a full beard and short cropped hair. He was dressed all in black, the cloth catching and reflecting no light at all. "Why Mr. Barrett, I'm so happy to see that you got our invitation. Are you coming to the party?"

Robert wanted to say no more than anything, but the compulsion arose again, and pulled the invitation he swore he had thrown away from his pocket, "I sure am. I even have my invitation right here," he said, and followed the man past the line, through the doorway, and into the club. Again, he asked himself what he was doing, but was powerless to stop himself from waiting while the man rustled through a pile of clothing, and pulled out some old, worn denim, socks, boots, and a hat, and handed them to Robert, who just stared at the stuff in his arms.

"What, you expect me to wear this?" he said, his personality reasserting itself.

"Think of it as a chance to try something new," Rod said, and pointed him towards a dressing room, "Now go change."

Robert tried to stop himself, but he couldn't resist the direct order, and marched himself into the nearest dressing room. Still unable to control himself, he stripped out of his business wear, leaving them on the floor as they fell. Robert had thus far waged a rather unsuccessful fight with his family's Italian genetics. In his middle age, he had filled out considerably, with a large gut and substantial ass. However, as he began investigating the pile of clothing before him, he saw that not even a man his size would be able to fit into this stuff easily. Most of the pile was taken up by a pair of very large, and not very clean, overalls. Along with that was a sleeveless, gray T-shirt, though he couldn't tell if it was the fabric itself was colored or if it was just from the grime which had apparently accumulated over the years. Regardless, both pieces smelled rank like they hadn't been washed in ages, but he pulled the shirt over his head, and the overalls on next, securing both straps over his shoulders. Next came a pair of grimy socks and muddy work boots on his feet, and then the hat. He hadn't noticed earlier, but the trucker hat had a wig attached, with long stringy hair falling down the back, and a set of thick sideburns coming down the side, which adhered to the side of his face with a bit of tape on the back. Under the hat, he found a set of those fake redneck teeth, full of black caps and crooked things, which he fit into his mouth as well. When everything was on, the door opened again, and Robert marched himself out into the throng of the party, leaving his business suit behind in the dressing room.

However, where he exited was not the same place where he came in. He immediately turned towards where the exit had been a moment before, but all that extended in that direction was a hallway full of revelers. Assuming that he had simply left out of the wrong door, he turned around, but found that where there had been a door moments before, there was now a blank, empty wall. He would have gaped a bit longer, but suddenly he was pushed along by a crowd, and rather than fall on his face, he stumbled down the hall along with them, looking for any sign out of the devilish place.

He walked along hallway after hallway, often convinced that he was going in circles, but somehow he managed to never come out into the same room twice. Many of the rooms were decorated with different themes, though the costumes were just as varied as the locales. The crowd was also decidedly gay, which terrified Robert more than anything. More than once he had stumbled upon a group of men kissing, or worse, sucking each other off, and he had turned around and fled before, heaven forbid, they asked him to join.

Occasionally, in the hallways, he would pass by an ornate grandfather clock, ticking off the minutes towards midnight, however, it seemed like every time he passed one, the time was drastically different than he would have imagined. Several times it had actually gone backward, once more than an hour, but always they chimed the hours with the same deep, resonant tone, and ticked with a restless urgency which pushed him onward through the bar, and into another room.

Robert, however, was quickly becoming exhausted, and knew he would have to stop somewhere to catch his breath. He found a somewhat empty room, modeled on a fifty's diner, and took a seat at the bar.

"What can I get for ya?" The bartender asked as Robert sat down.

"Just a glass of water, if you'd be so kind," he replied, while mopping his forehead with the collar of his undershirt. The bartender fiddled around a bit, and then set down a shot glass filled with some filthy brown liquid, which Robert just stared at.

"What the hell is this? I asked for water," he said, but the bartender had already walked away, leaving Robert alone with his shot. He sighed, but without really thinking about it, took the glass and threw back the entire contents, which burned its way all the way down to his stomach, making him cough and sputter. Robert didn't know why he had done that, but he hadn't been able to even think about not doing it.

"Another?" the bartender asked, as he poured another shot, "Here, I'll just leave you the bottle," he added, and disappeared again.

Robert knew he should get up and keep looking for a way out, but he downed the shot in front of him and poured another, before drinking that one too. After that, he ignored the glass and just started taking swigs from the bottle. Before long, he was feeling very drunk, but very good. In the distance, he became aware of the clocks in the room chiming midnight, and vaguely wondered what his wife was doing. He should have been home hours ago, had she called the police? No one knew he was here, and he certainly had no idea how he was going to get out. Did he really want to get out? He was happy with his booze he thought, as he took another swig. "There ya are Pa! I been lookin' everywhere fer ya," a voice said behind him, and a muscular construction worker sat down on the bar stool next to him.

Robert just stared at him for a moment, and felt like he should recognize him, but couldn't. "Wh...Who the hell'er you?" he slurred, and almost slid off the stool to the ground, but the man caught him mid step and hefted him back onto the seat, all four hundred and fifty pounds of him. Robert was by no means a small man, with fat packed into his oversized overalls wherever it could fit, and his massive tits stretched his shirt to the limit and clearly outlined his nipples through the gray fabric. He had three chins on a good day which covered the collar of his shirt, and his bushy sideburns made his fat, bright red cheeks look even bigger. He took off his hat for a moment and scratched his bald head, and ran his hand through the stringy hair still left on his head. The word "skullet" flashed through his mind, but he couldn't really make sense of it. He was too drunk to make sense of anything.

"Come on Pa, Ya had too much tah drink. Let's get ya home," He got a hold on Robert's arm, but he yanked it away.

"I can get up myself, thank you very much!" he said, and stumbled up, lumbering across the bar, occasionally falling against a table for support.

He made it all the way to a doorway before he heard the man call out behind him, "The truck's this way, Pa."

"How do you know? I been all over this place, and it's all a maze. We ain't ever gonna get out!"

The man walked over, grabbed Robert by the arm, and dragged him over in the other direction, "Alright, ya had enough, now let's get goin'."

Robert tried to pull away, but the man was too strong and too insistent, while Robert was too drunk to know better. As he followed behind, it occurred to him that he had no idea who he was following, "Wait now," Robert said, "Who are you again?"

"Damn it pa, I hate it when ya drink too much--now come on. Now we need tah get ya home. I have work in the mornin'."

"But ya don' even know where I live," Robert mumbled.

"Of course I do--ya live with me! Geeze yer thick tonight."

Robert couldn't make heads or tails of that, but figured that this guy must be one of his kids, sent by his wife to take him home. It didn't really make a lot of sense, but then, nothing was making much sense tonight. He didn't really care though, as long as he got out of this crazy place.

Sure enough, his son led him down some stairs, and before Robert knew it, they were outside in the parking lot, or at least, a parking lot. He tried to walk off in the direction he thought his car was, but his son was pulling him in the wrong direction. "Damn it boy," he cried, "We done parked over there!"

"Pa, the truck's right here," he said, and popped open the door of an old beat up pickup. He helped his old man into the passenger door, and climbed in the driver's side. "Ya all set Pa?" he asked, and when Robert nodded his fat face, he started the truck with a clunk, and took off down the road.

Robert figured that they would be heading home, but instead of heading towards the suburbs, his son got onto the highway and left town, heading into the country. Robert knew something was wrong, but he was too drunk really to think about much. Instead, he felt something else begin to brew inside of him. Looking over at his son next to him, he was suddenly struck by how handsome he was. He hadn't really bothered looking at him in the club, but suddenly he was taking in every detail, from the close cropped hair on his head, the bushy goatee framing his adorable mouth, and his rough calloused hands. He was also very muscular, and Robert felt his dick begin to harden in his overalls. Unable to stop himself, he reached over and started groping his boy's crotch, surprised by the size of the cock he found in the well worn jeans.

"Come on Pa, you're too drunk for that right now," he said.

Robert just kept groping, feeling his son's cock begin to harden, "Come on Jimmy boy, I can't help it if you're the hottest guy around," Jimmy, that was his son's name. Why hadn't he been able to remember that earlier? Now overwhelmed with lust, he leaned over and began licking Jimmy's neck, causing him to swerve a bit on the road.

"Dammit Pa! I'm tryin' tah drive, can't it wait 'til we get home?"

"Oh hush boy," Robert whispered in his ear, "I know ya don't want tah wait 'til we're home..."

Jimmy drove for a moment longer, and then steered the car off the rural highway, and then a ways into the underbrush, the truck bouncing wildly. Before he could even get the car into park, he was kissing his Pa madly, forcing the fat man back against the window, pinning him there. Robert immediately began unbuttoning Jimmy's flannel shirt, rubbing his hands through the thick forest of hair beneath. He smelled like he hadn't bathed in a few days, but that just made Robert hotter. He buried his nose in his son's pit and started licking up as much sweat as he could. "Yeah pig daddy, lick out my nasty pit, ya like that funk?" Jimmy said.

"Hell yeah boy, ya know I'll do anythin' tah lick out yer pits. Hell, I'll lick all ya if ya give me a chance. But what I really want is in here," Robert said, and groped Jimmy's cock some more.

"Well, there ain't enough room in here fer that. Get out, and we'll have some fun in the back," Jimmy said, and both of them climbed out and walked around to the back. It took some work, but they managed to get Robert's massive frame up into the bed. The entire truck sagged with the weight of him, but he crawled forward anyway, giving Jimmy room to heft himself up after him. Once they were both up, they began undressing each other. Soon, Jimmy was naked, but he wanted Robert to leave his overalls on. "You know how hot I get with my Pigdaddy in his overalls," he said, and the thought made Robert shiver. He loved being Jimmy's Pigdaddy so much.

"Well if yer so horny, get over here n' fuck me already, boy!" Robert said on his hands and knees, "Fuck this Pigdaddy of yours."

"Ya want me tah stick this big, fat cock up your butthole?" Jimmy asked, as he got behind him. He spread apart Robert's ass, exposed through the large hole in the seat of his overalls and chuckled, "Damn Pa, ya sure got yerself a dirty crack!"

"Not like yers is much cleaner boy, now get on with it,"

"Not so fast," Jimmy said, as he lubed up some of his fingers with spit, "Ya ain't quite warmed up fer me yet," and he started worming his middle finger into Robert's hole.

"Oh fuck yeah," Robert said, pushing against his son's hand, "Get all those fuckers in there!"

"All of them? Alright, you asked for it," Jimmy said, and after lubing up with some more spit, worked his entire fist into Robert's ass.

It hurt like hell, but the drunkenness dulled the pain, and just made Robert hornier. He began to snort loudly as his sphincter closed around Jimmy's wrist, and the hand worked deeper into his colon.

"Yeah you fuckin' pig! How's that feel?" Jimmy said as he massaged his daddy's prostate, making him pant and snort louder. Before he could stop himself, Robert felt his cock explode, cum spurting out in massive bursts, soaking the crotch of his overalls as he squealed. Jimmy reached under and laughed, "Yeah, that got you all wet, didn't it? Now, how about I give you a good fuck?" He pulled out his fist and quickly replaced it with his cock, which slipped easily into the already wrecked hole. Even with the warm up, Jimmy's ten inch cock stretched Robert to the limit, and all he could do was hang on to the truck while his son fucked him wildly. Despite having cum once already, he could feel his cock already hardening again, and he was struck for a moment by the wrongness of what he was doing. Not only was he having sex with a man, his own son was fucking the daylights out of him, and Robert was practically begging him for more. It still felt so right though, and he pushed back harder, relishing the feeling of his massive amounts of fat shaking with every thrust. Honestly, he couldn't be more proud of his son, and the great fucker he had grown up to be. Before too long, he heard his boy grunt behind him and unload deep inside of him. He wrapped his arms as far as they could go around his father's rotund form, staying inside until he had gone completely soft.

He sat back, allowing Robert to turn around and join him with their backs against the window. Robert was panting loudly from the exercise, though it hadn't made him any less drunk, and only a little less horny. He couldn't resist lowering his fly, which was still sopping with his cum from moments before, fishing out his cock, and jacking off.

"Damn Pa, yer still horny after that?"

"Fuck son, you know yer dad is always horny. How about you help me out with this thing?" "Nah, I got a better idea," Jimmy said, and held his hand, still shitty from their earlier fisting, under Robert's nose, who took a good sniff, and sucked the index finger into his mouth. The taste of shit made him moan, and got his dick even harder. Before long he had cleaned off his son's whole hand, who then stood up and rammed his shit smeared cock down his father's throat. Robert just sucked as hard as he could, hotter than he had ever been in his life.

He was no longer appalled that he was sucking his own shit of his son's cock, this is what he was supposed to be doing. He loved the taste of ass, especially his own, and Jimmy knew that. When he pulled it out a minute or two later, his cock was spotless, and Robert licked his lips. "Please, I need more, boy," Robert gasped, still jacking his cock.

"Then eat out my crack, ya fuckin' pig," Jimmy said, spread his ass wide open, and pushed it up against his father's face. Robert immediately groaned with lust and began lapping at the mix of dry and wet shit. From the amount of it, he hadn't wiped at least for a day or two, and it was driving Robert wild. He felt his orgasm begin to build, and let loose another torrent of cum while his son cheered him on. The last thing Robert remembered before he passed out was Jimmy turning around, stroking his hard cock a couple of times and blowing another load all over his father's face. Happy and somewhat satisfied, Robert felt himself drift off into a drunken slumber.