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Zeke's Rule

By:Sam Crescent

Chapter One

Zeke: ten years old

“You worthless piece of shit.”

Zeke sat on the frayed, stained, and rotten smelling couch, staring at his drunken father who paced back and forth in front of him, high and drunk; he waited for the blows to come. His father was high and drunk. His mother sat on the chair across from Zeke, a tourniquet on her arm, blood dripping down the crease of her elbow from the needle she’d just used to shoot up. She stared at Zeke with this glazed, off her gourd expression, and he knew when his father started hitting him she’d do nothing. This was his life, had been for as long as he could remember. He might only be ten, but he felt far older, had to be strong and smart to stay alive when things got bad.

“You little worthless piece of shit.” His father stopped and stared down at him. He clenched his hands at his sides, his anger slamming into Zeke with enough force that if he weren’t used to this, he would have felt real fear.

“You went into my room and got into my cash, didn’t you?” Although it sounded like a question, Zeke knew it wasn’t really one. His father knew what he’d done, and Zeke would get punished severely for it.

“I needed money for food.” Zeke didn’t bother lying.

“What an ungrateful little shit,” his mother said now.

Zeke looked at his mother, saw her try and sit up, but she slumped back down, too high to move more than an inch. “There wasn’t any food in the house, and I was hungry.” He looked at his father again, the man hateful, evil. But Zeke couldn’t deny that what he’d been through had made him stronger; he’d had to be to withstand all of this.

“You never steal from your own.”

You’re not my own.

“There wasn’t any food in the house, and I was hungry,” Zeke said again. “It was only five dollars.” It was the only money he’d been able to find in the house, but it had been part of his parents drug and booze fund. He’d known taking the money would mean he’d get it, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything but surviving, growing up, getting away from them, and being the one that threw the punches instead of taking them.

“If I had been able to afford an abortion, your ass wouldn’t be here right now,” his mother said, slurring the words out.

And before Zeke could prepare himself, that first blow came from the left, and he felt the darkness rush forward.

Zeke: eighteen years old

He was drunk, surprised he could even get his dick hard, but he wasn’t going to stop, wasn’t going to turn down this piece of ass. He needed more than booze to make him forget about his shitty life, about how he was on the verge of losing his fucking mind.

Zeke stared at the ass currently bouncing up and down on his cock, lifted his gaze up the wide hips and slender back, and held onto her hips, slamming her down harder on him. He didn’t even know this bitch’s name, and he assumed she didn’t know his either. They were in the back of some poor asshole’s pickup truck at a party being held by a kid he had gone to high school with. Zeke had graduated by the skin of his teeth, and the only reason he’d even continued going to school was because he wanted to be better than his old man, rise above him. One day, he’d knock his ass down, bury him, and never look back.

She was a whore. He’d seen her fucking plenty of other guys around town. That’s what he wanted: a slut, one that just wanted dick and nothing else.

“God, you are really stretching me with that big dick of yours.”

Zeke didn’t respond, not because he had nothing to say, but because he didn’t give a shit about what this female talked about. He just looked down at where her cunt sucked at his dick, where the condom was slicked with her pussy juice.#p#分页标题#e#

He had big plans with his life, ones that had him above all others, had him never having to answer to anyone. The truck was uncomfortable as hell, but Zeke didn’t care. He was just trying to get off, and that was easier said than done since she was loose as fuck and he had whiskey dick going on.

Zeke flipped her over so she was on her belly now, her arms and knees slamming against the metal of the truck bed. He gripped the root of his dick, held the too small condom in pace, and told himself he’d be bringing the Magnums next time. He lined his cockhead at the opening of her sloppy pussy again and thrust in, focused on getting off.

He plunged inside of her, over and over again, until his balls drew up and he finally felt his orgasm rush forward. He came hard, not caring if she got off, because right now he only worried about himself.