Steamy Romance by DJ ROBO BISCUIT

Warning: This story is not for children.

Mary Thromter was in her Escalade. She was in the back seat and her driver was taking her through the neighborhood. She did not frequently travel through this part of town.

Some men caught her eye. They were working men.

“Octavio stop the car.” She said. The car stopped and they were right next to a construction site. There were some heavily tanned men standing near the road.

Mary rolled down her window. “Hey you, come with me.” She pointed to one of the men and he did.

She opened the door and he got in the car. His skin was a deep tan from working in the son and he was wearing working boots.

“Drive Octavio.” Mary said. And the Escalade rolled on to its destination.

“So, what is your name cutie?”

The man spoke, “It’s Jim.”

“Oh Jim. That’s a beautiful name.” Mary purred.

“Thanks miss.” Said Jim.

“Just call me Mary.” As Mary spoke she flicked her hair out of her face and she shifted her legs.

“Well, where are we going Mary?” Asked Jim.

“Back to my place. It won’t be far now.” Said Mary.

They arrived at her estate. It was a huge house with a gate. They got out of the car and entered the home.

“Come Jim, we will go straight to the bedroom.” Said Mary.

“Fine with me.” said Jim.

They both entered her palatial bedroom. Mary moved to the bed and sat on it. She turned to Jim.

Mary looked at him with lust. “Come to me you dirty hard-working man.”

And he did. Their bodies came close together physically on the bed with the expensive sheets.

He took off his workman’s shirt and threw it to the floor. His body was muscular and strong.

“Oh yes! I like what I see.” Said Mary. Their mouths locked together as they kissed each other. They kissed with passion and even used their tongues.

Mary pulled back for a moment and looked at Jim. “Your french kiss is good like a tasty croissant.”

“Thank you.” Said Jim.

As they kissed, Jim used his hands to grab her breasts. He squeezed them firmly with his strong working hands.

“Not too hard Jim, my breasts are not cactus.” Mary moaned.

Things were getting exciting. Mary unleashed, “Oh take me you dirty working man! Give me your eggplant!”

Jim inserted his reproductive organ into her receiving hole and thrusted. He thrusted in, but also pulled out, but also went back in.

“Oh yes! Me Like-y! Me Like-y! Yowza!” Yelled Mary with her pleasure.

They both climaxed together and it was great.

As they lay in bed, Mary looked at Jim with joy. She said, “That was amazing Jim. If you want you can have a shower here and you can even have some food.”

Jim looked at her, “Do you have soap?” He looked towards the shower.

“I do.” Confirmed Mary.

“Fantastic.” Said Jim. His face revealed a smile as he had not showered with soap in over 3 days.

(The End)

Fathers and Sons

A tale by DJ ROBO BISCUIT 

I did not know my father growing up, but I did know he was a bad man.  It was tough growing up without my dad around.  And my mom was loving but also full of peculiarities.   Somedays she loved me and somedays she seemed to despise me.  But I don’t blame her.   She is one of many moms put in that strange predicament.  She was a warrior.  But you could still see her trauma.

In 2018, there were 4 million births; there were 90,000 rapes; and 4,000 reported babies caused by rape.   Those numbers changed greatly.  Here in the year 2035 we have 5 million births, 100,000 rapes and 50,000 babies born from rape.  Ever since they banned the abortions, the numbers have been going up.

And that is me, a “rape baby.”  It happened one night, in a dark alley, my dad got her.  She has told me that she had wished could abort but it was illegal.  But she also told me she was glad she had me.  Sometimes it is confusing!  And she would always mention the “Good ol’ days” when women were allowed to abort.

Tuesday nights I have my RBA meetings.  Rape Baby Anonymous.  Many of the guys and girls there are my age.  We were part of the “first wave” of rape babies.  We sit around and stare at each other.  We talk about it.   What it is like to not know our fathers, but of course to know he was a rapist.  Many of our moms are in rough shape, they are tough but many of them still have some trauma from the rape.  None of us know our dads.

But one day I decided to do something about it.   It was time for a DNA test.  Believe it or not, the government has initiatives to help kids find their fathers.

The results came back, and guess what?  I have 2 brothers!   They live in different states but it’s amazing to know I am not an only child.  One of them lives in New York City and the other lives in Orlando.  I guess dad was able to move around huh?

And of course, the results showed me my dad: Anthony Pelbis.    It’s a weird last name, Pelbis.   And my dad is locked up, but not for rape.  Looks like he was locked up for Burglary.  I guess good ol’ dad was a career criminal.   He was in prison only one state away.  I asked Mom, but she didn’t want to see him.

I drove to the prison.  I wanted to meet my father.

I sit down in front of the glass and grab the phone.  He is not very tall but he is strong.  He has a big nose and he has a large scar across his cheek which is very distinctive.   I know he is not a good guy but I can’t help but notice I do look like him.

“Well, I heard you were my son?”

“Hello Anthony, that is right.”

“Yeah, you don’t have to call me Dad or anything.  Unless you want to of course.  What’s your name?”

“My name is Albert.”

“Albert huh?  That is a fine name.   You know, you do kind of look like me!”

“How much do you know Anthony?”

“Oh about what?”

“About me and about mom?  And about your family?”

“Well, I know have at least one son, yourself.  And I don’t really have much family except for my brother.”

“Well actually Anthony, there are more of me.”

Anthony’s eyes widened.

“Yeah Dad, you are actually a father of three.  I have 2 other brothers.”

“Woah. That is crazy!”

“I guess you were a busy man many years ago.”

“You know Albert we all make mistakes, and now I am locked up.”

“Can you tell me anything about Mom?  From when she was younger.”

” You know son, I really can’t say much.  Me and your mom were intimate only one time and it was not on her terms.”

… … … …

END OF TALE

(DJ ROBO BISCUIT)