Nico Herst, You're the Worst! Ch. 02

He heard the sound of quick, even labored breathing, which he assumed was Nico. He calmly hung up his apron and slowly walked towards the brightly lit dining room. "Boys," he called out without really expecting a response.

What Mr. Herst, loving father of three, beheld as he entered the dining room made him clench his fists and furrow his brow. He let out a low grunt at the mess left in the dining room. The pot of gravy, now tarnished and empty, lay on the floor with the silver ladle poking out of it. Splatterings of gravy graced the dining room table, and in one place was smeared. Two of the chairs had been knocked over and a number of ink pens strewn about.

Greg Hurst's vision blurred into a red haze when his eyes finally laid upon his oldest boy. Mr. Hurst's fists shook as he seethed in the dining room entryway. His eldest was the real mess here, and the twins were nowhere in sight.

The oldest Herst sibling's breath manifested in quick ragged spurts, like he'd just stopped running. Every so often he'd cough as if his throat were full of phlegm, but he was assuredly breathing through his mouth - nearly hyperventilating. Nico's entire body was also covered in the thick and savory gravy concoction from the tips of his toes and some goopy globs had even been dribbled into his dark black locks of hair. What really drew the eye was the size of Nico's bollocks - which had grown a third larger than their usual size while the young musclehead's sack had turned a bright pink color with brighter red patches peppered throughout. Curiously, this was the part of Nico with the least amount of sauce on him. There were also ruddy handprints on Nico's ass, and Greg knew from personal experience how long a handprint could last on his son's outrageously bouncy white asscheeks. Greg's body tensed when he saw that Nico's overgrown cock was still hard as steel and jumping sporadically, straining against itself for release between the young man's broad pecs. Under Nico's chin were the two wooden spoons that Mr. Herst had given Jeb and Joshua. The spoons were held in place by Nico's, assuredly at this point, uncomfortable position on the dining room table. The young man seemed unaware of the cloud of anger approaching him as his father took slow steps across the room. Perhaps it was because his face was covered by a single sheet of clean white paper that been taped to his forehead. He also didn't visibly react when Mr. Herst snatched the paper from his face.

Underneath the paper, Nico's face looked akin to a deer in headlights - unable to flee but dimly aware. His eyes were bloodshot and it was obvious that he must have done quite a bit of crying. Nico's face was covered in a light sheen of sweat, but he never looked up and his eyes remained vaguely focused on some point beyond the presence of his bulbous and leaking cockhead. Seeing something indeterminate with a wide-eyed intensity while his ragged breathing and coughing continued.

Mr. Herst read the note:

Dad,

Did your tasting thing. No choice but to see how gravy tasted on something tender. Used the spoons to make sure Nico's nuts were nice and "soft". Nico not much help but that's whatever, he never helps out much anyway. Sorry about the mess, but we wanted to play some b-ball. Gravy is still great. Maybe serve on Swedish meatballs or a porkbutt?

~Joshua and Jeb

Mr. Herst felt all the tension leave his body and chuckled. What was he to do with those two rascals? To think of Joshua and Jeb running his store for him one day...well they had a long way to go. Perhaps, now that they were in their senior year, they'd gain a bit of maturity. Although, the fact that they'd left him a note left him feeling a little proud. Then he turned to the eyesore that was Nico, with his muscular frame still restrained and his eyes looking at nothing.

"Nico," Mr. Herst said in stern voice.

Nico slowly looked up and his eyes struggled to focus, "D-Dad -"

"Nico," Mr. Herst cut him off before he said anything, further "Whenever or however you get yourself loose, make sure you clean up this hellish disaster you left all around the dining room. I expect it done before dinner in a few hours."

Nico's eyebrows came together in confusion as his father began to walk out of the room, "Dad, I don't..."

"Oh, and Nico..." Greg Herst said as he crossed back to his son.

He took one hand and firmly pressed his splayed fingers along the base of Nico's enormous and quivering hard cock. Nico's mouth opened wide as he groaned with pleasure, "Ah-a-ahhh!"

Once again he'd lost himself an explosive orgasm and his dick, pointed directly at his face, unleashed a torrent of white cum that splashed against his face, his hair, and into his unfortunately open mouth (Nico hated the taste of his own cum). Ripples of uncontrollable pleasure rippled through every fiber of his young herculean body and his father scowled. His boy was undoubtedly some kind of abomination, covered in his own jizz from that unseemly donkey dick. Greg sighed.

"If this room isn't spotless by the time dinner is ready you'll regret it," Mr. Herst hissed as he lifted his hand and exited the room, leaving Nico by himself.