Family affairs: Helping hand

Previous parts:
Crazy cousins
Daddy's boy
Safety first
Good sport

Featured in this story: Logan (click for pictures)

Warning: Can contain traces of cum. And there's a bit of graphic heterosexuality right in the beginning.

“Logan!” Bradley yelled, rolling his eyes as he shifted through the scattered sports equipment in the basement.

He was 38 year old, a handsome, muscular man with dark blond hair and a youthful smile. His well-worn t-shirt that bore the faded logo of a semi-famous rock band and tour dates from 20 years ago matched the color of his loose grey sweat shorts.

He picked up a broken hockey and sighed. There were certainly better things to do on a Saturday afternoon than clearing out the basement.

“Logan!” he repeated, louder.

Up in his room, Logan was too busy banging the hell out of his girlfriend to hear his father calling.



It was a spontaneous fuck.

The handsome blond high school wrestler hadn’t even bothered to strip naked. His pants were dangling around his ankles as he thrust his rock-hard dick into his girlfriend.

Ashley was lying on the bed, her legs high in the air, her panties hanging from one foot, her skirt pulled up, holding on to the bed frame as her boyfriend pounded her like a pro.

They hadn’t seen each other for two weeks, and they both were horny as hell.

Logan moaned in pleasure as he sank his dick balls deep into his girlfriend’s hole. His babymakers were churning with pent-up sperm and he couldn’t wait to release his creamy load inside her.

Ashley let out a joyous squeak as Logan’s rod hit her g-spot, prompting Logan to bang her harder.

The rhythmical banging of the bed frame against the wall echoed through the house.

Down in the basement, Logan’s father let out a frustrated groan.

“Logan!” Bradley yelled from the top of his lungs.


The banging stopped.

“Logan!” Bradley repeated. “Come down here now!”

Ashley’s eyes widened. “Your father is home?!” She pushed her boyfriend away and jumped off the bed.

Logan stumbled backwards, his dick rock-hard and glistening, a shocked expression on his face. “Babe?! What are you doing?!”

“He probably heard us fucking”, Ashley hissed, pulling up her panties and adjusting her skirt. She looked into the mirror and ran her hands through her blond hair. “You told me he wasn’t home!”

“But babe”, Logan whispered, flabbergasted, “you can’t leave me like that!” He pointed at his raging erection.

Ashley raised her eyebrows. “I told you I don’t like to fuck when your parents are home!”

“But babe”, Logan repeated, biting his lower lip.

Ashley grabbed the door handle and turned on her heals. “What?”

Logan looked at his crotch. “I’m--- My dick is--- You can’t--- I mean, I’m---“ He let out a deep sigh. “Babe?”

“Logan!” came Logan’s father’s voice from outside the room, accompanied by loud footsteps as Bradley made his way up the stairs.

Ashley shot Logan an angry look before putting on a bright smile and opening the door just before Logan’s dad reached it.

“Hello, Mr. Kruger”, Ashley chirped, smiling at her lover’s father.

“Ashley”, Bradley said.

“I was just about to go”, Ashley smiled. “See you, Logan.” She walked down the stairs.

“Bye, Ashley”, Bradley said, peeking into Logan’s room as his son was frantically pulling up his loose basketball pants.

They did very little to hide his erection, and Logan’s beet red face and the frustrated look in his eyes told volumes.

Despite his anger, Bradley chuckled at his son’s awkward attempt at covering his crotch with his hands.

Bradley stood in the doorframe, his hands on his hips, savoring the moment. He had a good relationship with his son – but right now he couldn’t help but feel malicious glee at his son’s misfortune.

“Did you cum?” Bradley grinned.

“Dad!” Logan gasped, shocked at his father’s lack of tact.

“Well, apparently you didn’t”, Bradley chuckled. “Good.” He turned on his heels. “I told you I need your help in the basement. It looks like a pigsty down there. Come down right now or I’ll throw all your stuff out. The trophies and the gear. Everything.”

Logan blinked as his father walked down the stairs, whistling happily.

“Come on, Logan”, he yelled as he made his way to the basement.

Logan let out a deep sigh. “I’m coming”, he grunted grudgingly.

“No, you aren’t!” he heard his father laugh. “Not today!”

Logan rolled his eyes. He adjusted his crotch, trying to tame his throbbing dick, letting out a frustrated sigh as he walked down the stairs.

When he arrived in the basement, his boner still tenting his pants, his father was waiting for him.

“Alright, son”, Bradley said with a grin, picking up the broken hockey stick. “Let’s go through your stuff. This one belongs in the trash, right?”

Logan scratched his head, a bored expression on his face. “Yeah, sure. It’s useless.”

Bradley nodded. He spotted a hockey ball on the ground and bent over to pick it up.

As he turned, the business end of the hockey stick went up, hitting Logan right between the legs, crunching his fat, sperm-filled balls into his body.

“Dad!” Logan croaked, doubling over and clutching his crotch.

His father turned around, an innocent smile on his face. “Yeah, what--- Oh! I’m so sorry!“

Logan couldn’t help but chuckle. “Dad! You hit me in the nuts!”

Bradley grimaced in sympathy. “Oh, that’s gotta hurt.”

Logan rolled his eyes. His father was a bad actor. There was no way that this had been an accident. “Give me that stick before you do any lasting damage with it”, he mumbled. “You do want grandkids some day, don’t you?”

Bradley laughed and handed Logan the hockey stick. “I’m so sorry, son, I didn’t see you--- Ooooof!”

Logan brought the hockey stick up between his dad’s legs, knocking the wind out of his lungs as Bradley’s nuts were flattened like pancakes.

“Sorry”, Logan said with a grin. “I didn’t see you.”

Bradley groaned, rubbing his crotch.

“Thank god you don’t plan on having any more children”, Logan chuckled.

“Doesn’t mean I don’t need my balls anymore”, Bradley said in a strained voice before lobbing the hockey ball at Logan’s crotch.

It connected with Logan’s babymakers with a dull thud.

“Dad!” Logan howled, doubling over.

The hockey stick and the ball landed on the ground as Logan grabbed his crotch, nursing his battered balls.

Bradley laughed. “That was a good one, huh?”

Logan chuckled, rubbing his groin. “You did that on purpose”, he said, looking around the room, searching for an appropriate weapon.

His eyes fell on an old wrestling trophy, a big, metal cup that was sitting on the ground. He made a move for it but his dad stopped him with a swift, hard kick in the nuts.

Bradley’s sneaker-clad foot connected with Logan’s juicy plums dead-on, ramming them into his body.

Logan let out a high pitched shriek and sank to the ground as his eyes lost focus.

“Don’t think you can outfox your old man”, Bradley grinned, reaching for the trophy. “I’ve kicked guys in the balls when you were still inside mine---“

Logan interrupted his father with a well-placed uppercut to the crotch that caused him to topple over and crash to the ground, howling in agony.

“You wanna fight dirty?” Logan grinned, rubbing his sore balls as he got up and straightened. “No problem, let’s fight dirty.”

Bradley was on the ground, clutching his crotch. “I don’t wanna fight at all”, he moaned. Unnoticed by his son, Bradley’s fingers closed around the wrestling statue. “Not at all”, he repeated before whacking Logan in the nuts with it.

The heavy statue flattened Logan’s bulge dramatically, turning his semi-hard dick into an accordion and squashing his fat balls into his body.

Logan screamed from the top of his lungs, doubling over and falling to his knees as his father roared with laughter.

“You’ve got a lot to learn, son”, Bradley grinned, raising the trophy above his head. “Fighting dirty is all about---“

Logan’s fist smashed into Bradley’s exposed crotch.

A resounding splat echoed through the basement as Bradley’s low-hanging nuts smacked against his thighs inside his sweat pants.

For a moment, it looked like Bradley was about to puke. His face was pale, his eyes crossed, and he let out a dry cough.

“Give me that”, Logan grunted, grabbing the trophy. He looked at the inscription. “Best team player”.

Logan chuckled as Bradley let out a long, wheezing moan.

With a swift motion, Logan brought the trophy down into his father’s crotch, crushing his nuts and making him let out a soprano squeal.

“Sorry, dad”, Logan grinned, not looking sorry at all. “I need to make sure that your---“

Bradley’s hand shot forward, and he wrapped his fingers around the prominent bulge in Logan’s shorts.

“Dad!” Logan squeaked, letting go of the trophy and causing it to drop to the ground.

Bradley’s voice was husky and hoarse, and his face was a mask of pain as he tightened his grip on Logan’s battered babymakers. “Believe me, son, this hurts me more than it hurts you…”

Logan let out a high-pitched whimper. “Dad!”

Bradley chuckled. “Then again, maybe not…” He kneaded Logan’s nuts in his big, strong hand, pressing his thumb deep into the core of his son’s balls.

“Please, dad!” Logan gasped, his eyes fluttering as beads of sweat were forming on his forehead.

Bradley twisted his hand, yanking Logan’s nuts down at the same time.

A comically high-pitched squeal escaped Logan’s mouth as his eyes rolled back into his head.

At the same time, Logan’s battered balls released their pent-up load inside his basketball shorts.

Logan’s body shuddered as his pants were soaked in his precious stud sauce.

Jet after jet of sticky spunk sputtered out of his dick, and Bradley made sure to squeeze every last bit of cum out of his son’s mangled nuggets.

Less than an hour ago, Logan had been dying to release his load – now he was dying for his orgasm to end.

He made all kinds of funny noises, his body quivering, sweat running down his pale face as spurt after spurt of babybatter was squished out of his tender testicles.

Finally, when he was sure that his son’s nuts were drained, Bradley let go, allowing Logan to collapse on the ground, cupping his sore gonads.

Logan was panting heavily, his face contorted in pain. His basketball shorts were drenched and dripping wet.

Bradley chuckled and wiped his hands on a shabby piece of cloth that was lying on the ground. He got up, groaning and cupping his own crotch, looking down at his son who was curled up in a ball, moaning and groaning in pain.

“Come on”, Bradley grinned, helping his son up. “Let’s get you some ice.”

Logan groaned with every step as he gingerly walked up the stairs, leaning on his father for support. “But the basement…”

Bradley chuckled. “You got anything planned next Saturday?”