Mafia - Short story

[theardes]

This is a short story I wrote. Hope you don?t mind the spelling mistakes I most surely made. Enjoy!

Mafia
- by theardes

When I was younger we lived in a small flat in Chicago. Me, my mother and my father. It was really a very small place and the walls were pretty thin. One of first memories of my childhood is being in my bed, trying to sleep. It is dark outside and I hear my parents in thier bedroom. They don?t have light on there, but I can hear them having sex. Thier bed makes this sound everytime my father drives his cock into my mother. He must have been already well endowed then, because the moans of my mother came claerly audible throw the wall. When they had finished the sound of the moving bed stopped, but I could still hear them: "Oh Sergey, that was wounderful."

Being not able to sleep I got up and peered throw the keyhole. My father was still on top of my mother in the missioanry position. Her hands were feeling over his body, giving approval to his muscular figure. After he climaxed it got quiet and I went to sleep.

Somewhere arround this time my father got a new job. He didn?t talk much about it, all he told my mother was that he worked for a man called Mario Bellatoni. He worked late, dressed up at work and we got more money. I once met his boss, who was introduced to me as Uncle Mario and seemed to be a pretty nice guy.

And so it went on for a couple of month until my mother recieved a call in the early morning. My father had been beaten up and was lying in the hospital. He stayed there for a week, but he never told any one who beat him up and why. The bill of the hospital was paid by Uncle Mario, who also visited him there. When my father left the hospital he went straight back to work. But this time he brought home a box Uncle Mario must have given him. My mother wasn?t at home and I think he didn?t noticed me watching as he opened the box and injekted himself something into his underarm. Then he hid the box in his wardrobe.

I didn?t think much about it, remember I was pretty young. My day consisted of school, homework and playing outside. After a week I noticed some changes. My father was getting bigger, more muscular. When he stepped out of the shower I noticed him beeing slighty taller, his muscles lookd pumped. My mother noticed too, as I could hear through the wall at night:"Sergey, you?re becoming an athlete. Ohhh. I think you?ve grown there too. Ahhh" After that her voice made whimpering sounds as my father talked on:"Yeah, oh that feels good. You?re thighter now baby. You like this, there?ll be more soon. Feel that!" and so they went on for at least an hour.

When I woke up the next mornig I felt pretty tired. My mother had left for work and I though my father to be still asleep until I heard a grunt from the bathroom. When I peered inside I saw my father standing in fron of the toilet, beating off. The muscles in his arm flexed as he manipulated his dick. Soon he put one hand on the wall above the toilt to steady himself as he gruntet one last time and huge waves of thick white cum shoot out of his dick and ?nto the toilet. After that he went to work as usual and I went into the bathroom, where I noticed I had a stiffy.

With the weeks passing my father got new clothes from Uncle Mario. Thex were custom tailored just for him, as his muscles seemed to grow every day.

His sex drive increased steadily. Now I was falling asleep to the sound of the moving bed, for I had to get some sleep. But when I woke up in the morning there was the same sound again. My mother walked around like she was on some kind of stuff all day. When she had left my father went to the bathroom to beat off again, jerking his big cock with his thick arms until he released his cum. He dressed and went to work.

It was about two month later and my father had gained about 50Kg when the bed wouldn?t take it anymore. It just broke under the wheigth of this muscle man, which didn?t stop him from finishing and bringing my mother to orgasm. When the neighbors knocked and asked me if we could stop the noise, her screams were heard trough the bedroom door.

Well they got a new bed, one that wasn?t that noisy.

One day I came home from school early. When I entered the flat I could hear noise coming from the bedroom. So I went a peered through the keyhole. Shocking? My father was sitting on the bed in his muscular glory, his arms held Uncle Mario, he was naked too, and impaled on my fathers huge cock. While my father used his strong arms to move his boss up and down his shaft and grunting, Uncle Mario was cursing in Italian, his eyes closed and lost in pleasure.

My father put him down on the bed on his belly and started to drive really into him. I got so hard I could hardly stand it. He started to mutter dirty words into Uncle Marios ear and finally he tensed up and came into him. He puled out and the two men kissed. I rushed into my room as Uncle Mario left.

Suddenly my father was in my room. "Oh, you?re here already."

"Yes, I came home early." My eyes were moving up and down his now clothed body.

"When did you arrive?" He started to get hard."You saw us?"

I nodded and licked my lips. He sighned:"It?s not what it seems! I?m not a homosexual, but I have that need. I guess I?ve to explain that. Let?s have a dad-to-son talk. Come here!"

He sat down and patted on his lap so I went to him and sat on his lap.

I didn?t really listen to what he was saying, for his dick went hard under me and I felt his enourmus legs under my ass. After a while I hugged him, I started to feel his muscles, explore them with my hands and we ended up kissing.

He stripped for me and let me feel up all of his muscles. he was a proud man, proud of his body, his growing muscles and his strength. I felt his biceps as he lifted me up with one hand, I felt his pecs as I sat on his back while he did pushups, I felt his legs as he squatted. All that hard muscle made me hard myself and as he excused himself and went to the bathroom I jerked off in my room.

This was our first and only session. Sadly he died soon after, for another "Uncle" shot him and Uncle Mario. My mother and I moved to another town. It was not until many years later when I cleaned up the basement and found the box Uncle Mario had given my father.

The End

[brahms97]

Great little story, with an original plot line, but you can't just leave us hanging with that teaser at the end. What does the narrator do when he finds Uncle Mario's box?

And your spelling is better than many I've seen. Keep it up.

[Cai]

You should keep going with this story

[arpeejay]

Yep. Good story. You know, you could write it in MS Word, run the spellchecker, then copy & paste it here. It's not that hard to do. Just a thought...

rpj

[sexiscriptor]

owch...zing'd...
As pointy as it was, I have to agree with RPJ; It never hurts to check through the spelling and such of a story before submitting it.
However, good story with an interesting plot line being set up for hopefully more fantastic stuff in the [very] near future.

[Mad Dog]

Just a few comments for an otherwise well-written short concept:

We don't have any idea how big the father is in the beginning, so it's hard to judge the growth.

I'm guessing you're not an American, since you use metric measurements. This is some advice I hope everyone from outside America takes when they make a story: give American measurements next to the metric. I have no idea how much 50 kg is, so it doesn't mean a lot to me. Also, this story being set in Chicago, metric doesn't make a lot of sense.

Other than that, kudos.

[arpeejay]

1 kg = 2.2 lbs.

So 50 kg = 110 lbs.

Likewise, 1 inch = 2.54 cm

So a guy who is 5'10 1/2" tall (70.5 inches) would be 179 centimeters or 1.79 meters.

They don't teach this stuff in American elementary schools any more?

rpj

1.79 cm
100 kg

[Mad Dog]

Well, they teach us OF the metric system, such as 100 cm in a meter and so forth. But not conversion tables or anything, though.

And just so you don't think I'm a jerk or anything, I also recognize there are a fair amount of non-American posters around here, so maybe American writers shouldn't assume that others know our measurements, either.

[arpeejay]

<-- smooths MadDog's fur

They USED to teach conversion tables, although nobody paid much attention to them. I tend to take it as a sign of the TRULY muscle obsessed, to know how pounds translate into kilos, how cm's translate into inches, etc. (Reminds me that one of my favorite bigmuscle.com profiles is "Packen27cm" -- do the math on THAT one!) The one that still throws me is "Stone," that curious British measurement that is the equivalent (I think) of 14 lbs.

rpj

about 15.5 st

[buffdoc]

I liked the setup of this story. Unique context and characterizations. Hope it continues.

[brent]

Originally Posted by arpeejay

<-- smooths MadDog's fur

They USED to teach conversion tables, although nobody paid much attention to them. I tend to take it as a sign of the TRULY muscle obsessed, to know how pounds translate into kilos, how cm's translate into inches, etc. (Reminds me that one of my favorite bigmuscle.com profiles is "Packen27cm" -- do the math on THAT one!) The one that still throws me is "Stone," that curious British measurement that is the equivalent (I think) of 14 lbs.

rpj

about 15.5 st

They did use to teach metrics very well here, then it stopped. In 1985, my family & I moved to Auckland, NZ. At that time, we got regular lectures in metrics. Then when we moved... I HAD to learn metrics, FAST!!! When I moved back in late 1989, they had stopped teaching metrics, and America's curiosity with the outside world was over. It's worth learning that 50 kg. is 110 pounds, that a meter is 3'3", that a foot is 30 cm, that a stone is 14 pounds (for RPJ), and that a fortnight is two weeks. I think it's important to include tips for every member. Sometimes I will use both the American & English version of a word like gas/petrol, sneakers/trainers, or apartment/flat, not for people who natively speak English (no matter which version) but for people that have English as their second language. That way they can find the word form the version of English they learned.

Also, great story!
I hope their will be a sequel soon! <--(That's the American in me...)

The reason metric conversion failed in the USA is exactly the same reason the dollar coin can't succeed. The alternative is still available. If non-metric measurments were forbidden we'd be converted in 90 days. If the paper dollar were declared worthless we'd all be using the coins in 90 days.

Continually providing translations of units or terrninology only makes more work for yourself, makes the text difficult/unfriendly/not_easy/convoluted to read and obscures the way the author's culture actually expresses itself.

In my humble opinion, if a reader doesn't get it, he doesn't get it. If he wants to get it he'll look it up or ask. "You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make him drink."

[brent]

LG, you have some very good points. Maybe more people should take the time to look this stuff up, or stop complaining. I find both types of measurements to be natural, but some people have a real issue with a different scale than they are used to. I wish americans would get over their metricphobia, but we probably never will.

[RyBearATL]

<Sarcasm>
COMPLAINING is the second most American (USA) thing to do! How DARE you even suggest we stop!

The first most American thing is BLAME! And I think it's horrible for you to suggest we stop either of these things.

If the USSR hadn't collapsed I'd say you were a communist! I'll bet you hate baseball too!

</Sarcasm>

-R

[brent]

Originally Posted by RyBearATL

<Sarcasm>
COMPLAINING is the second most American (USA) thing to do! How DARE you even suggest we stop!

The first most American thing is BLAME! And I think it's horrible for you to suggest we stop either of these things.

If the USSR hadn't collapsed I'd say you were a communist! I'll bet you hate baseball too!

</Sarcasm>

-R

<SARCASM><COMPLAINT>
Ry,
<RANT>please make your XML tags regular (all one case). I can't handle anymore of this mixed case thing. Unless you are a Russian Communist, a Microsoft developer, or an Internet developer that works with nasty, old fashioned HTML, please, please, please, for the love of the christian God, work in only one case. I can't stand anymore of these loose standards! Please also watch how you nest & close your tags as well.</RANT>
Don't Make me get the w3c after you!
</COMPLAINT> </SARCASM>

I haven't laughed this hard in a while. I actually do hate baseball, and I was a Communist until Clinton's economic miracle showed me that Capitalism can be made to work (remember that he is a Rhode's scholar, and his focus was in economics).

Also, I've noticed that everything that goes wrong in this country is blamed on the Clintons. So I say, "Why stop now?" My bad grammar? That's William Clinton's fault (although I went to school when Reagan was in office), the war in Iraq? Definitely one of the Clinton's fault. The fact the Laura Bush is butt ugly? That's Hillary's fault!

[theardes]

Hi there! Nice to hear that you like my story, but I don?t think I?ll write another part of this. I came up with the idea of somebody not able to sleep at night, because of the ..business un the next room. You know, the feelingf late at night, in the dark, when you?re mostly asleep and your mind starts to come up with images and stuff. Anyway, if somebody wants to continue it, feel free to do so.

Oh and the discussion with the different systems - Sorry. At first I wantet to write the story without any mesurements at all, because I think that comparison of a bicep with a baseball or a football creates a picture in your mind , whereas 21` is more abstract.