Gerald x Birling: A Matter of Business

"So… Gerald, my boy. Your father is a very rich man; what is his secret?"

"Oh dear, I don't know if I can tell you that," Gerald remarked, grinning to himself whilst keeping his eyes glued to the floor. "Perhaps another day. But do remember, Mister Birling, that there are some things money can't buy!"

"Oh, yes, yes of course! You'd know all about that, wouldn't you? I had to work for my wealth, but you were born with it!"

"Don't think that because I'm rich, I don't know how to get my hands dirty!" laughed Gerald, with one of his charming winks. Birling was a little taken aback by this, but regained his stature and replied: "Oh, tell me more, boy!"

"Hmm… You should know that actions speak louder than words, father-in-law…"

"Well then Gerald. Perhaps you can prove yourself to me, with a little favour." Birling paused, looked down, and began to speak. "Old Mrs Birling is not so willing, these days. I've been looking for some new blood in my life, if you know what I mean –" Croft cut him off with a finger to the lips, and stood up very slowly. Birling's bloated face began to turn a deep shade of red, and his large hands grasped the arms of his chair with a mixture of anticipation and passion. "My boy… I can't bear to think of what would happen if we were caught! My reputation! My-" Once again, Birling was silenced, but this time with Gerald's lips.

The man's eyes were wide and filled with shock. Croft's tongue was forcing its way into his mouth! Birling's puffy lips were becoming wet with saliva, and the taste-muscle found its way inside as the two men's spittle began to mix. Birling began to relax. The boy was probably just experimenting, yes? Surely. Arthur had had his fair share of male relations as a young adult, so it was all but his duty to help the boy in his undertaking. Lifting one coarse, plump hand, the man gently eased Gerald's figure away from his and stood up, unbuttoning his fall-fronts as he did so. The loose fitting trousers – that were all the rage amongst 'men about the town' – dropped to Birling's feet, exposing two unshaven, sinewy legs. "Dear God!" exclaimed Croft "How did you come to have such muscular legs?". Birling smirked. "You'll soon come to know, boy, that, for the women of the Birling family, a strong thrust is quite the must!".

"God awfully attractive, and knows how to rhyme! You're quite the alpha, are you not, father-in-law!"

A menacing bulge was beginning to appear in Arthur's saggy briefs. It would appear that the young man's sweet talk was getting to him! "Enough!" he cried, as his monstrous phallus hardened and tore through the inept fabric of his undergarment. Gerald was met with the biggest, most terrifying horse shaft that he had ever seen (and he'd seen a dire lot)! "Take me Birling, I am your son now. Treat me as such!". At that, Croft fell upon the towering member, sucking upon it with every inch of his lungs. Arthur growled, and adjusted his position. With one sweeping, albeit careless movement, the man thrust his hips forward, forcing almost his entire penis into Gerald's mouth hole! The only thing that stopped it from going all the way was the back of the boy's skull (even which struggled to hold back the throbbing pole). Then it struck Birling: His manhood expanded when exposed to saliva! How could he have forgotten? "Croft! Move, quickly!". Arthur lost all of his middle class demeanour in an attempt to save Gerald from injury, but it was too late.

The giant tool began to swell in both thickness and length, pushing at the boundaries of the young man's mouth. The boy's lips began to tear at the edges, in time ripping a gaping hole in his right cheek; Birling wrenched his love stick from Croft's disfigured face, breaking his jaw in the process! Gerald tried to scream, but instead ruptured his larynx and vomited all over Arthur's crotch. "Oh, oh no..." Birling stuttered, a conflict of emotions erupting in his mind. The boy was scarred for life, both mentally and physically, and yet Birling couldn't help being aroused at the hole in Gerald's lacerated cheek, which by now was leaking a mixture of blood, saliva, and stomach fluids. A broken moan escaped from Croft's damaged throat, tears covered what was once a fine young face, and his wide, traumatised eyes looked into those of the man. It was too much. Arthur wanted more. He sat down.

Birling twisted Gerald's neck with alarming aggression, and shoved his man-rod into the bloody hole in the boys cheek; The alpha male utilised his brute strength and began to shake Croft's head up and down his lode streaked member, tearing at the skin that was now barely attached to the boy's skull. This was no easy task, however, as the coarse shaft acted like sandpaper. The problem did not last long, though, as Gerald coughed up some thick, dark blood that worked perfectly as a lubricant. It was happening! Birling began to swing harder and harder, faster and faster, fully aware that he was approaching the pleasure zone! "Yes!" he spat, "Good Lord, yes!". Arthur screamed, perfectly in key with D sharp minor, and released a torrent of agglutinative salt gunk into Croft's throat. Gerald was screaming too, but this was cut short by the deluge of fornication juice that filled his lungs. Gerald couldn't breathe.

As the boy collapsed, gasping for air, Birling snapped out of his pleasure coma in an instant. "Sweet Mother of God! What have I done?". He hauled Gerald's body onto his wide shoulders, and made a run for the street. "Help! Anybody! Help!". The commoners looked on, with little regard for the magnitude of the situation. Only one girl, who went by the name of Daisy Renton, offered to help. When she saw Gerald's mangled head, a look of determination flashed in her eyes; She knew that face.

First, she patched up his cheek impeccably. Next, she set his jaw. Then, with a sigh (realising she was going to die), Renton used her somewhat talented mouth to siphon the acidic penis nectar from Gerald's stomach. Birling looked at her quizzically, wondering how she intended to survive the dose of his salty elixir, but she silenced him. "It's okay, sir… When I'm dead and gone, they'll think it's disinfectant...".

"Gerald?"

"Yes Mister Birling?"

"Not a word of this, to anybody. Even an inspector."

"Yes Mister Birling."