Filthy Kings Ch 15

 

Chapter 15

Heart and Soul

Miloš

 

The first time Miloš had cum, his father's hand had been on his cock.

He had been eighteen. Belgrade. The office had smelled of brandy, gun oil, and the specific cold of a Serbian winter pressing through the windows.

Lazar had called it a lesson. Had poured warming lube into his palm with the clinical efficiency of a man demonstrating a firearms technique and had wrapped his scarred hand around his son's cock and said,

“Like this.”

“Feel it build.”

“Don't choke it, let it breathe, let it beg.”

Miloš had lasted approximately four strokes before he had reached for his father's cock in return.

He had told himself it was only mimicry. He was learning the grip.

That was all.

That was what he had told himself.

His father's cum had landed on his palm. His own cum had landed on his father's wrist.

Miloš had not wiped his hand the rest of the night.

“Lesson over,” Lazar had said eventually. “We don't do that again, and we damn sure never talk about it.”

Miloš had said “Yes, Tata.”

But, he had meant “No.”

This intense wanting had lived in him since that night the way the tattooed Orthodox cross lived on his chest—permanent, structural, burned into the skin so completely that removing it would require removing his cells.

He had built six years of architecture around it—women, distance, the performance of a son who was devoted but not dependent —and none of it had touched the want at all.

Tonight, the architecture was rubble.

And God the reality of what was about to happen right now was better than six years of waiting had prepared him for.

There’d been many nights he had sat in his room, cock slick with warming lube that made each nerve ending burn and pulse.

His cock throbbing in his fist as he imagined his father’s breath hot against his ear. “Cum for me, son. Stroke it for me, son. I want you to paint my face. Be my good boy. Make me dirty. Filthy.”

The fantasy would consume him until his thighs trembled and he spilled over his bed.

Every time, he would lick up his cum from the sheets.

A few times. . .when he was so delirious with lust. . .he would creep into his father’s bedroom in the dark, heart hammering so violently he thought it might wake Lazar before he could.

With shaking hands, he had drawn back the sheets to reveal his father’s sleeping form, that powerful body vulnerable in unconsciousness. He’d lowered his face until Lazar’s musk filled his lungs, that primal scent making his own cock throb painfully as he stroked himself with agonizing restraint, hovering in that forbidden space between terror and ecstasy.

And now. . .I can have him and her.

Miloš crawled across the bed toward Zara and Lazar.

His cock hung heavy and dripping— pomegranate juice, seeds, spit, and pre-cum running the full ladder of his piercings.

He loved how Zara and his father watched him with desire.

They’re mine forever. I will let go of neither of them. Do they know? Do they understand?

He’d already decided that he would chain them both to his bedroom if necessary.

You want to give me the throne, Tata? Okay. Then lounge on my bed next to our queen. When I am done ruling our empire, I will come to you at night and fuck you both.

That would be the only compromise Miloš would accept.

Lazar’s gaze went back to his cock.

Lust hit Miloš low in the stomach and he turned his view to his queen.

With his getting behind her, Zara's back was now to him. Some of her long curly hair fell at the top of her spine.

She’d returned to fucking his father. Her hips rolled in that devastating rhythm on his father's cock.

Her fat ass jiggled.

A wicked smirk spread across Miloš’s face. “You are so perfect, angel. I can’t wait to be inside of you.”

She moaned. “Then, take me.”

Lazar's hands were on her waist, those scarred, enormous hands that had held his cock six years ago.

“Oh, I’m coming, angel.”

Lazar’s gaze had moved from Zara’s face to his.

Miloš held his father's gaze and positioned himself better behind Zara.

"It’s time to make room for me.” Miloš stopped Zara from moving and slowly pushed her down to lay against his father.

Her ass was now in the air, round and full, the skin flushed with heat and desire.

Lower.

Under those perfect curves, Miloš could see his father's thick cock lodged deep inside her glistening pussy. Her wet flesh was stretched taut around the invasion, dripping and swollen with need.

Lazar blinked. “What are you doing?”

Miloš answered with his hand instead of his mouth. He slid his fingers down to where Zara and his father were joined.

They both groaned from Miloš’s fingertips. Smirking, he relished in the slick heat of them, feeling Lazar's cock thick and hard at her entrance.

She shivered.

Logic would say that he should put his cock in her ass. It was surely tight and ready for him.

But he wanted to feel his father’s cock too.

Therefore. . .there was no other option.

He brought the tip of his cock over to her pussy’s entrance where Lazar was already lodged in.

A few pomegranate seeds fell down to the furry bed. More was still along his juice coated length.

Miloš perfectly lined the head of his cock up at her entrance.

His father's shaft was lodged deep, taking up most of the space available. Miloš could feel the heat radiating off him before their cocks even touched.

He pressed forward.

Zara gasped, “What are you. . .doing?”

“Making room, angel.”

Lazar widened his eyes.

The head of Miloš’s cock met immediate resistance. Her entrance was already stretched tight around Lazar and there was nowhere to go except through that resistance.

He held pressure—steady, not forcing— and felt her body begin to yield, millimeter by millimeter. "Breathe."

She shivered.

On her exhale, he pushed just the head in, stopped there, and let her adjust.

Beneath him he felt his father go absolutely rigid—every muscle in that big body locking up— and he felt exactly why.

The tip of Miloš's cock was now pressed directly against the side of Lazar's shaft inside her.

The contact was obscenely immediate and lustfully undeniable.

Neither of them moved.

Zara's hands fisted in the furs. “Oh my God.”

“How do you feel?”

"K-keep. . .going."

“Hmmm. Maybe you’re not our angel. Perhaps, you are a little devil.” Miloš pushed another inch in. “Good. We’ll be wicked together.”

The stretch widened. He could feel her walls accommodating him, making room, the slick heat of her coating him as he advanced.

His first Frenum barbell—the one at the base—pressed against her warm walls.

The resistance was extraordinary. She was so tight around his father that the addition of his cock should have been impossible and was not—her body opened the way it had opened for everything tonight.

The second inch was a slow, grinding push that broke sweat across his shoulders.

But, he got deeper.

Lazar groaned.

Miloš pushed the third inch in. “Fuckkkk. You both feel so good.”

He stopped again.

Zara’s mouth was open and trembling. Her brow was pulled together.

Lazar was biting his lip.

“It feels so good. . .this is the only way I want to fuck now.” He pushed the fourth inch in.

Then, fifth to seventh.

Eighth to tenth.

One more push.

He drove the twelfth inch into her pussy. Miloš felt his father's cock throb against his own.

Two cocks in one dripping wet, tight pussy.

Skin to skin.

Heat to heat.

The sensation shot through him like lightning striking metal, his entire body electrified by the shattering taboo intimacy.

This is better than what I imagined!

And his cock was deep in Zara's over-stretched pussy. Her every heartbeat sent twin waves of pleasure radiating through both men.

She was warm, wet, and velvety slick.

And he could think of no better sensation.

Miloš had his cock pressed against his father's and it was the most overwhelming thing he had ever felt.

More than the first kill.

More than the first territory taken.

More than anything he had survived or built or been trained into.

More than that Belgrade night, even.

Because that night Lazar had held him in his hand.

Tonight Miloš was inside their queen too.

This is heaven and hell, and I never want to leave.

All six barbells were now in contact with Zara’s back pussy wall.

The sound that left Miloš came from somewhere below the Orthodox cross, from the place where the things with no language lived.

She shivered. “Holy fuck. I won’t survive you two.”

His hips were flush against her soft ass. He was completely inside her alongside Lazar and there was no more space and no more distance and six years of waiting was over.

He held there without moving.

Zara was shaking.

Lazar was shaking.

Miloš grinned. “You both are mine.”

Zara trembled again.

He watched her. "Does it hurt?"

Her voice cracked. “N-no.”

Miloš found his father's face over Zara's shoulder—eyes wide, jaw locked, every muscle rigid with the effort of stillness—and felt something shift in his chest that he recognized immediately because he had felt it once before.

"Tata." His voice came out wrecked. "Does it feel good?"

His father looked at him.

The answer took a long time. When it came it landed with the weight of everything Lazar had never said.

"It feels like everything, son." He sounded destroyed and brutally honest. "It feels like the only thing."

“Mmmm.” Miloš’s hips found the perfect cadence as he slid his cock in and out of Zara and up and down his father’s cock.

All three loudly groaned.

The bed shook.

The scent of sex was thick in the air, so heady it bypassed Miloš’s senses and went straight to his brain. He could taste it on his tongue, hear it in the ragged breaths they all drew.

Everything was so tight, Zara and Lazar could not move so he had to move for them. His strokes were slow and careful.

Zara’s pussy flowed like water, waving around their cocks. “Miloš!”

“You like that, little devil?”

“Y-yes.”

Groaning, his father closed his eyes and he gripped Zara’s hips hard. “Oh God, son. Fuck us both with your cock.”

That shattered Miloš.

He picked up his pace, pumping them both.

"You feel so f-fucking good," Zara gasped. "Both of you. I can feel you moving against each other—"

He reached his hand out and fisted her hair. "You’re ours now. Do you understand that?"

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“This is our pussy.”

“Fuck yes.”

“And every day you will give it to us.”

“God yes.”

Miloš moved faster, shaking her wet pussy’s walls and rubbing against his father’s cock. “Oh, fuck!”

“Oh! Oh!” Zara's hands found Lazar's face and Lazar kissed her—deep, claiming, and completely his.

Miloš loved the view and pumped his cock harder, relishing the forbidden wet friction.

His orgasm clawed up from his balls, savage and primal. He felt his father’s shaft swell—the forbidden ridge of Lazar’s crown rubbing obscenely against his own pierced length. Zara’s pussy fluttered around them both, her slick walls squeezing their joined flesh in rhythmic pulses and began to milk them.

Zara’s body seized between them, walls clenching so tight.

Miloš groaned.

His father trembled. “Oh fuck. I’m cuming.”

Their bodies were a tight knot bound together by the sweat and desire coating their skin.

A shockwave of molten pleasure crashed through him, searing every nerve ending raw.
Miloš felt Lazar’s powerful body convulse beneath him, his father’s cock pulsing violently against his own pierced shaft, each throb sending electric currents through their forbidden connection.

His father’s cum spilled onto his cock within the warmth of Zara’s pussy.

HEAVEN.

His own climax clawed upward—inevitable, primal—pressure building to unbearable heights in his heavy balls, his engorged cock throbbing against his father’s inside Zara’s drenched heat.

Liquid fire pooled at the base of his spine. White-hot lightning crackled upward through each vertebra.

Then, his vision blurred at the edges.

Zara shattered between them. “Oh! Oh! OH GOD!”

His heart slammed against his ribs.

Thick, scalding ropes of cum shot from his cock, mixing with his father’s seed in Zara’s quivering depths, their combined essence marking her from within.

The ecstasy was so catastrophically intense that reality fractured around him, his massive body convulsing with aftershocks that bordered on agony, pleasure so acute it felt like dying.

As his brutal thrusts slowed to trembling pulses, he fought to remain conscious, conquered and conqueror all at once.

Oh. My. Fucking. God.

The plane hummed.

He did not move for several minutes.

Lazar and Zara panted under him.

Then he moved.

Slowly.

Gently.

Pulling out inch by inch to not hurt her.

Once he was fully out, he gripped her hips and lifted her off his father.

She blinked. “W-what are you doing?”

“One more thing.” He laid her onto the bed.

Lazar raised his eyebrows and was still panting.

Miloš smirked.

I fucked them both good.

Zara lay back against the furs.

Wrecked.

Beautiful.

Mouth quivering.

“I’ve got to clean you.” Miloš moved down the bed, widened her legs open, and put his mouth to her pussy. Soon, he was sucking at her pussy’s entrance.

“Miloš!” She writhed.

I want to taste what we’ve done.

There, he continued to suck his and his father’s cum out of her pussy.

Her flesh glistened with pearlescent fluid, his tongue working methodically as rivulets of salty white traced paths down to his tongue.

The mixed seed pooled into his mouth.

It was a complex flavor.

Masculine brine.

Bitter salt merged with this earthy alkaline fluid.

So warm.

So right.

This salty musk flooded his nostrils with each draw of his lips. And more of his father and his cum spilled on his tongue and even coated his chin too.

When he was done, he rose and swallowed it all down. “Good. Now you’re clean.”

Lazar widened his eyes in shock.

Zara panted and her whole body trembled. “Jesus Christ. You are one nasty bastard.”

“I learned it all from my father.”

Lazar blinked. “Not all of it.”

Miloš laughed and fell on Zara’s other side.

Minutes later, they all held each other, wrapping their bodies until they were one unit of warmth and love.

And Miloš knew that this moment was just the beginning. Tonight, he’d given Zara his heart, and Lazar his soul.