Subject: In It For Life – 14 Copyright 2022 — Daemon D. Hart Please consider make a donation to Nifty! This site is unique on the net and deserves your support. In It For Life 14. Francesco sighed and grabbed his phone. “Hey,” he said softly and walked out on the pool deck, closing the door behind him without making too much noise. Karl was busy, getting measured and poked with tiny needles as the tailor on call was trying him out for his groom attire. Apparently, Francesco had been an easy read for the old man. That family really liked to do things the old-fashioned way, even if it was clearly nothing old-fashioned about the heir to the throne to marry a dude, and not a princess. His life, as he knew it, was gone. After that night at the cabin, he had been taken directly to Karl’s home and put there, like luggage. Everything was happening fast. And the shitstorm had been a sight. Media, interviews, his life in the spotlight. It all sounded so pretty. According to the nicely trimmed and photoshopped version of his self, he was a boy coming from a working class family, with an impeccable school record — really? — and with a charming personality. He had been Karl’s first love, at first sight even — irony, much? — and the other way around. They had met while volunteering for gay youth rights — eyes roll, cue applauses — and hit it off. Sure, not everyone believed that pile of crap, but Francesco’s police record was no more. Not even his stepfather had been discovered. His mom had called, asking him about what was going on. The answer? He didn’t really know. “Good to hear you, man,” he said as soon as he thought himself out of eavesdropping range. Unlike before, when he had been alone with Karl there, only with Morgan as a witness, the house was now overrun by all kinds of people engaged with the upcoming wedding. Mouse chuckled in his ear. “The hell, Kekko? Marriage?” Francesco sat on one of the long chairs and moved the phone from one ear to the other. “Did you hear about it half a world away? Damn, the world has gone to shit.” “You can say that again. So, care to tell me the real version? I puked a little in my mouth regarding about,” Mouse paused for effect like he was trying to recall the exact words he must have read, “your innocent attraction that turned into a love that didn’t deserve to be silenced.” “Ha, ha, laugh some more, asshole,” Francesco said. “Trust me, you don’t wanna know the truth.” His pause wasn’t for effect. He was happy Mouse called, but he couldn’t say a word ringing of any remote truth. That was pretty much his burden to share. “Ah, I see,” Mouse said. Like always, he was the sharpest tool in the shed. He didn’t need a manual to tell him the world was fucked. “How are the preparations going along?” “Got tried for a fancy suit, can you imagine?” “I can. I bet you look dashing. Hmm, sexy. Fuckable,” Mouse’s voice dropped to a whisper. Francesco laughed and shook his head. It was good to talk to someone who was far away from all the drama, someone who cared about his Çanakkale Escort ass. “I wish you could come.” Mouse hissed like he was put through the wringer. “Can’t, man. Busy with a war or some shit.” Not like they could pretend to be normal and have Mouse as their best man or whatever. Daddy-in-law might not know about Mouse being what he was to Francesco and Karl. That hot sex on the phone with Mouse as a witness was still on his mind. Things had seemed so simple then, and they hadn’t happened such a long time ago, either. “That’s too bad,” he murmured. “Fuck, I miss you so much.” “Don’t tell me Karl doesn’t care about giving you the proper dicking you deserve.” “Maybe I just need my cock sucked. You know, no one compares to you.” Francesco watched idly as behind the hedge wall, more people were pouring in. “Good. Although I know I have no competition since Karl’s no sucker, right?” Mouse laughed, and it felt so good to hear him. “Or did that change without my knowledge?” “No, it didn’t. He’s still an asshole,” Francesco joked. “This doesn’t sit well with you,” Mouse said suddenly. Francesco rubbed his ear. No point in fooling Mouse. “No,” he admitted in a hard beat. “Will you tell me? Next time we see each other?” “Maybe,” he said reluctantly. “Is all good on your end? Many delicious cocks to suck?” Mouse smacked his lips. “Plenty. It’s basically the only thing keeping me from going slightly batshit crazy, given the circs. I always think about you and your sweet cock, though.” “So romantic of you.” Francesco chuckled. He saw Morgan walk toward him. “Gotta go, man. Love you.” “Love you, too, Kekko. Kiss the groom from me, `kay?” “Sure thing.” “Do it after you suck a load out of him. That boy needs some breaking in,” Mouse suggested. Karl wasn’t that against tasting his own cum from Francesco’s tongue, but hell if he knew what the next stage would be. “Will do,” he said shortly. “Hope to see you soon.” Morgan was towering over him by now, shielding him from the sun. “Yes?” Francesco asked politely. “Karl’s mates want to throw him a stag party,” Morgan said shortly. Whenever there were eyes and ears around, the man’s manner became curt and extremely polite. “For real? Are they going to throw strippers at him, just to check if he’s truly into dudes?” Francesco asked. Morgan grimaced and looked around. It seemed like it was safe for him to talk. “You’re invited, too. Francesco, you need to be careful around that lot. There won’t be any strippers, but those young men tend to run wild and loose.” “Any advice?” he asked. “Yeah,” Morgan said. “Keep me on speed dial. Anything happens, call me.” “Can you tell me what do you expect those fuckers to do?” Francesco asked. He remembered what Don had told him, about sending Karl back to his unit so that he’d be turned into a gangbang toy and a cum dumpster. A chill ran down his back. “They know who Karl’s dad is. They’re not that crazy.” It was like Morgan could read his mind. That was slightly assuring, because he didn’t Çanakkale Escort Bayan need to talk more than needed. “But they might consider you fair game. These are not the big kahuna’s men, okay, Francesco? Anyone gets smart with you… well, be smarter.” Francesco smiled brightly and gave Morgan a thumbs-up. “Sure. I’m smart and hardworking, right?” That was the media’s much loved description of him. “And good looking,” Morgan mentioned with a hint of a smile. For a moment, he looked Francesco up and down. “They’re not wrong about either of that. Keep me on that speed dial. Even more, call me and keep the phone on. If anything happens, I’ll be there faster than any of those hotheads can whip a cock out of their pants.” “You’ll be around?” “Designated driver,” Morgan confirmed. “How come he didn’t fire you?” Francesco asked, dropping his voice. “Maybe I’m not that easy to fire. Stay safe, Francesco.” Francesco nodded. So, Morgan wasn’t lost; that was good. They still had an ally with them. *** “Are we going to meet your friends at the club?” Francesco held one hand over Karl’s while they were on the backseat of the car taking them to the stag party. “They’re not my friends.” Karl pulled his hand away. He’d been moody all evening. “Just… comrades.” “If so, why are they invited?” “It’s part of my image, obviously.” “What’s that? The good ol’ army boy? They must not know about the little gangbang parties your comrades like to throw now and then.” Karl snorted. “Yeah. Let’s get this shit over with.” Francesco stopped him just he was about to get out of the car. The lights in front were so warm and inviting. A club like that couldn’t be a place for ad-hoc gangbangs, right? “If you hate it so much, let’s just bail,” he offered. Karl shook his head. “No. I won’t let any of these fuckers win.” Francesco nodded and, surreptitiously, thumbed through his phone. Morgan was there, the invisible safety net on which they could both fall if need be. *** It was no wonder that they had the VIP room to themselves. Karl was greeted with pats on the back and seemingly joy, while Francesco stayed a little behind. There were ten young men there, more or less copy and paste versions of the same army poster boy, ruddy faces, hair cropped close to the head, broad in shoulders, and loud in manners. “So, is this the blushing bride?” one of them who had taken a hold of Karl’s shoulders, with no intention to let go, asked. Francesco met the guy’s washed out eyes and smiled perfunctorily, making sure to show just a little bit of teeth. “Robinson, shut the fuck up,” Karl warned. “What? We’re curious,” Robinson said. Francesco offered his hand. “I’m Francesco.” Robinson stared at his extended arm, hands in pockets now. Karl was watching the guy, his jaw set hard. Then, Robinson took Francesco’s hand and placed a mock kiss on it. The others burst into laughter. Well, they were a bunch of idiots alright. Francesco grimaced to show that he wasn’t tasting their stupid joke. Karl pushed Escort Çanakkale Robinson, making him fall on the plush sofa. Francesco tensed. Fuck, they were barely one minute in, and they were already itching for a fight? But, to his relief, Robinson relaxed and spread his legs wide while letting his arms slunk on the back of the sofa. “Stop being so serious, Karl. You’re fucking getting married. Let’s have a toast,” he offered and grabbed a full bottle from the table. There was booze there, enough to drown a ship, Francesco noticed. Good. Drunk men couldn’t get it up much, or get up to some serious shit. He sat by Karl’s side on a love settee that seemed to have been put there, particularly for their use. They were on one side; the others were slouched around, already after a drink or two, it seemed. There was an invisible line between them. Francesco sighed and tried to catch Karl’s eyes. But he was leaning forward, showing him mostly his back. *** Francesco wanted to relax after a couple of hours of nothing but tales from the army. They seemed so normal, he was starting to wonder whether Morgan hadn’t imagined that these guys would do something weird. But no, he knew enough of the world now not to believe that kind of thing. “So,” Robinson drawled, “how come you’re marrying this dude?” Ah, so it was only now that the show was starting. Francesco was glad he hadn’t drunken more than half a glass. He needed his wits about him. “Dad’s idea,” Karl said with a shrug. Francesco wanted to smack the asshole but reconsidered. Maybe it was for the better that these dudes didn’t know what was between them. “So, he’s not sucking your dick?” Robinson asked. Karl remained silent. Francesco grabbed his knee and squeezed. Nobody needed a scene. “He looks like a cocksucker to me,” Robinson added. “That’s because I am,” Francesco said proudly and held Karl back. Robinson stared at him with a glint in his eyes. “It doesn’t look like you’re doing a good job. Your husband,” he said with a smirk, “looks like he’s in dire need of having his dick sucked. Don’t worry, Karl. We got the best escorts in the city. They should be here any moment now. And then, you’ll finally get what you don’t have at home.” Ah, so that was how that game was played. Francesco stood, taking all by surprise. “Karl gets his dick sucked plenty,” he said with a smirk. “Call off your hookers. This isn’t that kind of party.” tbc Author’s note: Check my blog – https://daemondhart.blogspot/ – for teasers and extra stuff. You’ll find there a teaser about Mouse’s life in the army – the beginning to a story called Sucking It Up (https://daemondhart.blogspot/2022/04/sucking-it-up-prison-island-extra.html) – in which Mouse’s buddies and his superior will be introduced. Also, you can read the start to my newest story – which will be published everywhere for free – called The Male Whore And The pot/2022/04/male-whore-and-beasts-1-teaser-this-is.html), in which a slutty fuckboy called Brent gets lost in a magical forest and gets all the dicking he wants from men who are half-animals. The story will feature many kinks, such as breeding, fuck knots, men with more than one cock, cum in various colors and other crazy stuff. Support my creative endeavors on SubscribeStar ( if you can! It’s much appreciated!

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