Anything for Dad's Promotion

Note: This story contains elements of reluctance/nonconsent.

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"Dammit, son! Would you put down the game for one minute?"

My fingers mashed the buttons of the controller as I edged out in front of the other racers. "I'm almost finished!"

Dad walked over to the TV and unplugged it, crushing my hopes of beating my high score.

I threw my controller on the ground. "What the fuck?"

He stood in front of the TV, his arms crossed and face twisted in what I supposed was fatherly disappointment. "How's the job hunt coming?"

I took a swig from the can of Monster on my desk and let out a loud burp. "It's fine."

"It's been weeks. Your mother and I told you, if you don't have something by the end of the month-"

"You'll kick me out, I know." I pulled out my phone, absentmindedly shoving a hand in my boxer briefs as I started browsing Twitter.

"We're serious, son. You're 25 years old; you shouldn't still be living with your parents. Playing video games in your underwear!"

"Whatever you say, Dad," I said, not taking my eyes off the screen.

I'd heard enough empty threats over the years to know a bluff when I saw one. I'd send in a couple of résumés, not bothering to follow up on any of them, and it would all blow over in a month or two.

Dad shook his head, sighing. "At least make sure to look halfway decent tonight. My boss is coming for dinner, and I don't want you embarrassing the family."

I lifted my fingers to my nose to smell my balls. "Can I bring Hannah?"

"I thought you broke up?"

I pulled up another racing game on my phone. "Nah, we're back together. For now."

Dad sighed heavily. "I don't think that's a good idea. I'm up for the senior executive promotion, and I'm trying to make a good impression."

I smirked. "Don't want your son's slutty girlfriend fucking shit up for you?"

"I didn't say that."

I took another swig of Monster. "Didn't need to. I know you hate her."

Dad closed his eyes and shook his head wearily. The bags under his eyes looked even more prominent than usual. "Just promise me you'll behave tonight. I need this to go well."

My avatar zoomed into first place, so I pulled my hand out of my pants and locked in. "Then I would probably suggest you lay off the booze. Can't have you falling through a window again."

Dad's face burned. "I told you and your mother, all that's behind me."

I knew it was a cheap shot, making fun of his drinking like that, but he was really pissing me off.

Unlike me, Dad's always been a hard worker. But he's been a hard drinker, too. Ever since I was little, he's been hitting the pavement to try and find work to support Mom and me. He's done all sorts of odd jobs over the years-handyman, electrician, delivery driver. Nothing seemed to stick, probably on account of his drinking. If Mom didn't get to his paycheck before he did, half of it would be down the drain at the bar.

So, when he landed his latest gig at Porter Langley as a low-level executive making $60K a year, he decided to pull back on his drinking.

I was less than convinced.

"Just dress nice and don't say anything dumb," Dad said. He took one last look at me then, as if giving up, sighed and left.

I rolled my eyes. "Anything for you, Dad."

Finally, somefuckingpeace and quiet.

I spent the next few hours pounding energy drinks and trying to beat my high score. I'd been working at it for months now, whenever I wasn't busy chasing Hannah or pretending to look for a job.

Hannah was a total smokeshow and way out of my league: tall, blonde, incredible tits. I was tall and lanky, with dark brown hair and big, round eyes. Guys used to tease me and call me elf-boy, which pissed the fuck outta me. But I had a secret weapon that trumped all of them: a big, thick cock that Hannah couldn't get enough of.

After failing to beat my high score for the millionth time, I tossed my controller on the bed and cursed in frustration. I suddenly realized it was dark out--shit, had I really been playing that long?

I heard the sound of voices downstairs, my parents and a loud male voice I didn't recognize. I went over to my closet to try to find something halfway decent to wear for dinner. That was pretty tough, considering most of my clothes consisted of graphic tees and ripped-up jeans. I chose a pair of jeans that wasn't too torn up and a shirt that wasn't too badly wrinkled and headed downstairs.

"Holy hell, Dennis. You've been holding out on me! Who knew you could score such a fine woman?"

The man's voice was loud and boisterous, echoing through the front hall and up the stairs. I stepped out onto the landing to see my mother engulfed in the arms of a tall, heavy Latino man, whom I assumed was Dad's boss. He kissed my mom on the cheek, and I could see her blush from the top of the stairs.

"This is my wife Patricia," my dad said awkwardly.

The man let go of my mother and grinned at her like a used car salesman. "Pleased to meet you. Your husband's a fucking legend. Nuts of steel, but I'm sure you know that already, ha ha!"

My mother just stared at him, stunned. Dad looked more uncomfortable than I'd ever seen him. When he caught sight of me, he looked almost relieved.

"This is my son, Robby," he said, wrapping a hand around my mother's shoulder and pulling her away from his boss.

The man locked eyes with me, and the energy shifted completely. "Son," he repeated, his eyes roaming over me in a way that made me feel like I was still in my underwear. "You hiding this kid on purpose, Dennis?"

I smiled awkwardly. "Nice to meet you."

His grin, which was already too big for his face, stretched even wider. He stuck his hand out to me, his fingers thick as sausages. "Call me Jorge."

I shook his hand, and immediately cringed as I was nearly crushed by his grip. He was a large man with tan skin, short gray hair, and gray stubble lining his chin. He was dressed in a suit, his big belly hanging over his belt. He continued grinning at me, pulling me closer until his belly was pressed against me.

"Nice to meet you, Robby."

Being so close to him, his scent practically assaulted my senses. He was wearing some heavy cologne, but you could still smell his natural body odor underneath--a thick, pungent musk that nearly made me go crosseyed.

Finally, Jorge let me go and turned back to my dad, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "Show me around the place, Dennis. I want the full tour!"

I followed them around as Dad showed him the living room, the kitchen, and the dining room. Jorge walked ahead of Mom and Dad, confidently striding into each room as if it were him giving the tour instead of my dad. He picked up a knick-knack from a shelf in the dining room, a delicate glass piece that he handled roughly.

"Fucking hell, you've got an eye for beauty, Denny boy," he said, inspecting it in the light. He looked at my mom and me and winked.

Mom shot a mortified look at my father, who looked absolutely miserable.

"So, where's the booze?"

Dad and Jorge sat at the table drinking scotch while Mom finished getting dinner ready in the kitchen. I normally would have rather been drinking with them, but right now the kitchen seemed a lot more appealing.

"He's kinda weird, huh?" I said as I helped Mom with the plates.

She closed her eyes, shaking her head. "Your father said he was a lot, but I wasn't expecting..." She sighed. "It doesn't matter. He needs this promotion. We can put up with that gross man for one evening."

I raised an eyebrow. "If you say so."

When we brought the food out, Jorge was laughing boisterously at something, and my dad was grinning sheepishly.

"I hope you're hungry," my mom said as she set the casserole on the table.

Jorge shot me a lecherous grin. "I'm a man of big appetites."

I grimaced. What was this guy's deal?

Jorge was already sitting at the head of the table, and he stayed there as Mom served him. I went to take my usual spot near the end when he pulled out the chair next to him and patted it.

"Robby, boy, come sit by me. I wanna get to know the chip off the old block."

I shot a look at my father, who nodded at me.

I slid into the seat next to Jorge, silently lamenting the fact that I wouldn't be able to sink into the background during dinner as I'd planned.

Without waiting for anyone else to be served, he grabbed his fork and took a big bite of casserole. He pointed his fork at my mom and said, "You cook like this every night?"

"Not usually," she said carefully.

Jorge grunted. "That's a shame. A man works all day, he deserves to come home to something hot and ready. And a good meal, too! Ha ha!"

Dad laughed awkwardly. Mom stared at her plate.

He turned to me and patted my leg. "What about you, kid? You work?"

I reddened slightly. "I, uh..."

"He's in between jobs right now," said my dad.

Jorge's eyes shone. "Is he? Well, maybe we can find something for you at Porter Langley. I'm sure a fit young lad like you would do just fine playing with the big boys, heh heh."

My stomach churned. The only thing worse than working at some stuffy, boring place like that would be working with my dad.

"Robby's very capable," my dad said, which was the nicest compliment he'd ever given me.

"Oh, I'm sure he is," Jorge said, winking at me.

The awkwardness was so thick in the air that it felt like we were all choking on it. The only one who seemed not to feel it was Jorge, who looked like he was perfectly at home.

"Patty, the food's fucking delicious," he said, taking another bite.

Mom turned scarlet, then pushed back from the table. "More wine?"

She reached for the bottle to top everyone off, but Jorge intercepted her.

"Nah, nah, I got this."

He got to his feet, walking behind me to fill my wine glass. I felt his firm grip on my shoulder as he filled my glass, his heavy scent once again filling my nostrils.

"That's enough," I said, but he kept pouring.

"I think you can handle a little more." He filled my glass full to the top until the bottle was empty. Then he sat back down, not filling anyone else's glasses.

I sipped my wine, wishing beyond belief I could go upstairs and play video games instead of enduring this weird man for a second longer.

"So, Dennis tells me you're married?" my mom said, her voice high with false cheer.

"Divorced," Jorge grunted.

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"It's for the best. I'm not an easy man to please, and I've got a hell of an appetite, ha!" He patted his belly and roared in laughter.

Mom threw her napkin on the table. "I'll go get dessert."

"I'm kinda full," I said. "Is it cool if I go to my room?"

Dad glared at me. "Son, I think our guest would appreciate it if-"

"Ah, let the boy go," said Jorge. "I've got business I wanna discuss with you, Denny boy."

Dad looked at him, then me. He nodded.

"Great," I said, pushing my chair back. "Well... have a good night."

I retreated to the safety of my room, thankful to finally be out of that weird fucking dinner. Dad's boss was a really fucking weird guy, and I did not envy my mom being stuck downstairs with him for another hour.

I turned on my game and picked up my controller. Soon, I was back in it, solely focused on crushing my old high score.

I was so invested that I barely heard the knock at my door a half hour later.

"Just a minute," I said, biting my lip as I navigated a particularly heinous turn.

Dad didn't wait to enter. The door opened, causing me to break my concentration and slip off the ledge, careening to the depths below.

"Fuck, Dad! I told you to wait-"

It wasn't my father at the door. Jorge stood there with a wide grin on his face. He shut the door behind him.

"This is where the magic happens, eh?" He looked around the space, smirking at the mess that cluttered the floors and my desk.

I felt suddenly embarrassed. "Uh, what's up?"

He locked the door behind him, then took a step toward me. "I'm guessing your dad told you about his promotion."

I put my controller down. "Um... yeah..."

He sat down next to me on the bed, his heft causing the mattress to shift underneath me. He grinned lecherously, and I could smell the wine and scotch on his breath. "You're a beautiful boy, you know that?"

I was absolutely paralyzed with shock. I was so stunned that, when he put his hand on my leg and squeezed, all I did was look down and stare at it.

"Listen, kid. I like your dad a lot. But I'm not sure he's got what it takes for upper-level management." He ran his hand up the inside of my thigh, leaning forward until his musk was again pervading my nostrils. "I was hoping you could convince me."

I swallowed. "H-how?"

He leaned in and pressed his nose against my neck. He breathed in deeply, making me shiver. "Mmm... I'm sure a sexy boy like you could find a way to convince me."

I sprang to my feet, completely weirded out. "Okay, very funny joke," I said, my voice cracking.

He didn't look like he was joking. His eyes trailed down to my crotch, to the rips in my jeans that exposed my upper thigh.

I walked over to the door and went to unlock it, but the doorknob was jammed. "Dad?" I pounded on the door. "This isn't funny."

I heard footsteps outside. I put my ear against the door, but heard nothing more. "Dad? Mom? Hello?"

Then I heard his voice, weak and shaky. "I'm sorry, son. I need this promotion."

My eyes went wide with horror. When I turned back to Jorge, he was still sitting on my bed, rubbing his cock through his pants. The material was stretched obscenely.

"Come hang out with me, Robby." He patted the bed next to him. "Let's get to know each other a little."

I shook my head. "I don't... I'm not-"

"I'll tell you what." He raised his hands as a show of peace. "We don't have to do anything you don't want to. Why don't we play your little video game? If you win, I'll leave you alone. But if I win..."

I swallowed. "If you win, what?"

He ran his teeth across his bottom lip. "Then we'll have a little fun, you and me."

I shuddered. I looked back at the door, then at his face, which was twisted in a lustful grin I didn't like too much. But he was just some old fuck, and I'd played this game for months. I couldn't ask for an easier challenge.

"If... if I beat you, and you leave, Dad still gets his promotion?"

He nodded. "Absolutely."

I walked over to grab the controllers. "Okay."

I couldn't believe I was actually playing his game, but I knew how desperately Dad wanted this promotion. Besides, if I lost, which I wouldn't, then I figured I could always just bail after.

I handed him his controller, trying to ignore the creepy grin on his face.

"Best of three?" he said.

I nodded. Playing more rounds would work in my favor, just in case I ran into some crazy obstacle and wiped out early on.

I set the game up for two-player mode, turning my attention to the screen. I didn't know whether Jorge needed an explanation of the controls, but I wasn't about to offer one.

He seemed to know enough, though, as he selected his player and started choosing his racing equipment. I shot a look down at his crotch, which was still half-hard. Jesus. I did not want to see what that thing looked like at full mast. I couldn't even imagine what he would want me to do to it if I lost: suck it? The thought made me wanna gag.

"Ready?"

I looked up to see him smiling at me. Fuck, did he catch me staring? I turned to the screen and nodded. "Let's go."

The sound of fake engine roars filled the room as the countdown started. I hit the throttle two seconds before go, surging ahead early and leaving Jorge's player in the dust. I kept my lead for the first few minutes, hitting every turn just right. When I glanced at Jorge's screen, I could see he was close behind, but driving sloppily. He kept clipping walls and missing boosts.

I shook my head, smiling to myself as I crossed the finish line, ahead of him by a solid margin. The victory jingle chimed.

I turned to him and grinned. "Sorry, old man. Looks like you're outta luck."

He leaned back on his elbows, watching me instead of the replay. "Am I?"

Something in his voice made me nervous. I turned my attention back to the screen, readying myself mentally for the second race. I just needed to keep from making stupid mistakes for one more race, then I could get this creepy old perv out of my room for good.

I stared at the screen during the second countdown, my finger hovering over the button as I waited to boost the throttle. There were five seconds left when I heard Jorge moan.

"Mmmm..."

Unable to help myself, I glanced over at him. He was rubbing his cock through his pants, and it was hard again. I could see his bulge snaking down his leg, leaving a mound nearly as big as a football. Holy fuck--how hung was this guy? I looked up, and he winked at me.

Then he turned back to the screen and began to race.

I blinked, temporarily dazzled, and looked back at the screen to see I'd miss the starting moment. "Fuck," I muttered, leaning into the accelerator as I took off after Jorge.

Jorge maintained a steady distance ahead of me this time, taking corners tight and hitting every boost like he'd memorized the track. I was off my game, trying to compensate for my delay but overcorrecting too many times.

"Relax, kiddo," he said. "You're getting jumpy."

"I'm fine," I said through gritted teeth.

I took a shortcut Jorge didn't know about, coming out ahead of him on the track.

I laughed. "Fuck yeah."

He didn't say anything, just kept his eyes on the screen. I took a turn too sharply, and suddenly we were neck and neck, barreling down on the finish line. I leaned in, determined to knock him out of the competition once and for all. But at the last second, a falling rock on the track came flying out of nowhere. Jorge dodged it easily, but it crashed right into me, sending me skittering.

"Shit!"

I felt my heart pounding. Jorge was grinning wildly, his cock still hard in his pants.

"This is fun," he said, giving his dick a squeeze. "I can see why you like it."

I felt a chill run through me. I turned away from him, unwilling to be distracted again. But before the third round started, I could hear the clinking of his belt. When I turned back, he had his pants pulled down to his knees. His cock was stretching out a pair of tighty whities, and I could see a peek of his hairy balls from where the fabric was lifted by his erection.

"Dude, what the fuck?" I said, not able to take my eyes off his cock.

He shrugged innocently. "He needed a little room to breathe." He nodded at my pants. "Seems like you might need some air, too, kid."

I looked down at my crotch and was mortified to see that my cock was half hard. I covered myself, my face turning red.

"I... I'm not-"

"Relax, son," he said, clapping me on the shoulder. "It's just guys being guys. Nothing to get worked up about."

His touch made my skin tingle. Unfortunately, it also sent a rush of blood to my cock.

He saw my dick get harder in my pants and laughed. "If you want, we can skip the final round and go right to the fun."

I shook my head. "Let's go."

He kept his hand on my shoulder, rubbing me softly. "I don't suppose you'd want to sit on my lap for this round." He gave his cock another squeeze, causing the head to strain against the fabric of his underwear. "Make things a little more interesting."

"Fuck off," I said, still unable to look away from his dick.

"You sure?" He shook his dick a little, his heavy balls jiggling through the fabric. "It might make it harder for me to concentrate, having a sexy boy like you on my lap."

The sight of his hairy balls peeking through the gap in his underwear was almost hypnotic. I couldn't think of anything I wanted to do less than sit in this creepy old man's lap, but now I was getting worried about losing this final round. If I got distracted again and lost...