Jack and The Fat Man Pt. 02 - Sex Stories

Jack and The Fat Man Pt. 02

... Jack.

"Recognise anyone?" Arnold asked, his lips curling into into a wry smile. He expected it would cheer Jack up, but hoped it would do something else too.

Jack's eye's widened in disbelief as he took in the image of his tormenters father and village pub landlord, naked on his knees with a cock stuffed in his mouth. It was Arnold's cock, he knew instantly. He even recognised the living room carpet.

"Is that.....?" he started to ask incredulously. "But he's married."

"Yep. That's Bob alright. He's been sucking my cock on and off for.....let's just say, years," he explained with a smirk, gently manoeuvring his left arm around the young man's waist. "His wife ain't much better, Jack," he furthered. "She was the village "bike" back in the day. Had more cock up her than I can fucking count. Even had a go myself when I was coming to terms with being gay. She ain't slowed down that much either from what I hear."

Jack had never seen anything quite so pornographic and his tiny cock burst into life. If the Arnold hadn't shown him the photo he might never have believed it, but it was irrefutable. With the shock beginning to subside, he suddenly became aware of Arnold's big hand resting on his upper thigh and his cock stiffened even further. It was the intimacy that caught him by surprise. That and the sense of safety he felt. He wanted to wrap his arms around Arnold's broad shoulders and lean in, but didn't have the nerve.

"I.....I've never seen anything like that ...

... before," he gasped. "How did.....I mean.....when....?"

Arnold burst into laughter. "Calm yourself down," he wheezed, then squeezed Jack's thigh before gently patting his left cheek. "All in good time," he said, adding. "Knowledge is power, Jack. Don't you forget it. The next time Mason starts on you just remember. His dad's a cocksucker and his mother.......well, I think you get my point."

Jack nodded thoughtfully.

"Talking of forgetting things," the old man continued. "Let's not forget why you're here. There's my bedrooms to clean. Start with the spare room. Upstairs, first door on the left." "Yeah, sorry Arnold," he said standing up. "First door on the left," he repeated.

The bedroom was sparsely furnished. A freestanding old wooden wardrobe in one corner, a matching chest of drawers in the other and a double bed lined up against the opposite wall. With no bed linen. pillows or even a lampshade for ceiling bulb, it was pretty clear the room wasn't used often, if at all. It was hot and stuffy, so Jack opened the small windows, one at the front and one that overlooked the small rear garden and began to get on with cleaning. It was hot work.

He thought about looking in the drawers and the wardrobe when polishing them, but decided not to. That would be too nosey. They would probably be empty anyway if the rest of the room was anything to go by. After 2 hours, he got ready to vacuum the carpet, his slim torso dripping with sweat. Thankful he'd chosen a loose fitting ...