- Joined
- Dec 29, 2014
If you sell them to HotTopic.
Infected The Rick and Morty fandom and haters
- Thread starter Cosmos
- Start date
- Joined
- Jun 7, 2016
Back with more tumblr based R&M exceptionalism... It was a big fad last year to ship Rick with the old dude from Gravity Falls.
Even the Roiland and Hirsch acknowledged it
Ship is dumb, but its not underaged incest so...
Even the Roiland and Hirsch acknowledged it
Ship is dumb, but its not underaged incest so...
- Joined
- Nov 28, 2014
In this thread, someone told Harmon that the Szechuan sauce event was a huge clusterfuck because fans were being assholes:
Harmon replied with this:
The other person rightfully snapped back:
And of course Harmon had to have the final word:
What a gigantic fucking cunt. I had no idea how horrible he is; I mean, I'd heard complaints about him before, but this? This twat is acting like minimum-wage employees are subhumans who should be honored to take abuse from Harmon's fans.
I know this is a thread for laughing at people but seriously, fuck Dan Harmon.
_Wice
kiwifarms.net
- Joined
- Nov 25, 2016
The fanfics for this ship are even more hilarious. In most of them, Rick’s totes a perfect and loving father, his ex-wife was a bitch, and Grunkle Stan’s more of an over exaggerated lovable street hood. Also they ship him with his brother too.Back with more tumblr based R&M exceptionalism... It was a big fad last year to ship Rick with the old dude from Gravity Falls.
Even the Roiland and Hirsch acknowledged it
Ship is dumb, but its not underaged incest so...
- Joined
- Mar 14, 2014
Many Shekels to be made
- Joined
- Feb 3, 2013
wanna start a business?
- Joined
- Oct 10, 2017
He really is evolving into a gargantuan lolcow.In this thread, someone told Harmon that the Szechuan sauce event was a huge clusterfuck because fans were being assholes:
View attachment 295231
Harmon replied with this:
View attachment 295232
The other person rightfully snapped back:
View attachment 295233
And of course Harmon had to have the final word:
View attachment 295236
What a gigantic fucking cunt. I had no idea how horrible he is; I mean, I'd heard complaints about him before, but this? This twat is acting like minimum-wage employees are subhumans who should be honored to take abuse from Harmon's fans.
I know this is a thread for laughing at people but seriously, fuck Dan Harmon.
Too bad he cannot be shamed, but maybe his fan base can be?
- Joined
- Dec 28, 2015
Apparently, some moron traded a car for a packet of that stupid sauce...
Fuck humanity.
VW’s are complete shitboxes universally driven by faggots, so this guy actually came out ahead in the deal.
- Joined
- Apr 26, 2017
Somebody told me he can get the same car for about 700 dollars.
Still, waaaaay too much for a meme sauce.
- Joined
- Jul 15, 2017
"Oooo weee they should've purchased the sauce by UberEats rather than walking several miles!"
I don't know shit about Rick and Morty except fandoms having its sauce fetish. Sauce be sold on the flea market instead.
I don't know shit about Rick and Morty except fandoms having its sauce fetish. Sauce be sold on the flea market instead.
Bloody bunny
kiwifarms.net
- Joined
- Apr 8, 2016
1. he is owed the min adult swim gets tired of him he's fired.In this thread, someone told Harmon that the Szechuan sauce event was a huge clusterfuck because fans were being assholes:
View attachment 295231
Harmon replied with this:
View attachment 295232
The other person rightfully snapped back:
View attachment 295233
And of course Harmon had to have the final word:
View attachment 295236
What a gigantic fucking cunt. I had no idea how horrible he is; I mean, I'd heard complaints about him before, but this? This twat is acting like minimum-wage employees are subhumans who should be honored to take abuse from Harmon's fans.
I know this is a thread for laughing at people but seriously, fuck Dan Harmon.
2. the people he's belittling are "paying his rent'
3. it's ironic he's using that communist proletariat bullshit when he is a fucking millionaire.
4. he's a lot like bob now that i think about it.
- Joined
- Mar 18, 2016
This Tardmon guy has quite an elitist personality. If he continues on like this, then a thread it is. Maybe we might find his alien demon stripper stash.
_Wice
kiwifarms.net
- Joined
- Nov 25, 2016
I don’t know, we’ve already established he’s a drunk and cunt. Wouldn’t hurt to start a good OP.
- Joined
- Dec 27, 2015
It's easy to tell disgruntled McDonalds workers to just revolt against their employers or something when he's not the one who has to work for McDonald's and deal with tards en masse out of financial necessity.
Or he can act smug about not having to work for McDonalds out of necessity like he did in that response, that works too I guess. Like creator like fanbase.
- Joined
- Jun 25, 2013
Well, no wonder people idolize Rick. He was never meant to be an asshole who doesn't realize his actions have repercussions. He's a self insert!
- Joined
- Nov 22, 2013
It's like him, Chimpman and Blobson were separated at birth. A regular holy trinity of smugness and autism!
- Joined
- Sep 2, 2017
Lemon Party?Back with more tumblr based R&M exceptionalism... It was a big fad last year to ship Rick with the old dude from Gravity Falls.
Even the Roiland and Hirsch acknowledged it
Ship is dumb, but its not underaged incest so...
- Joined
- Oct 10, 2017
His address is in whitepages.com, so it’s not like he’s hiding.
Daniel J. Harmon
2151 Talmadge St
Los Angeles, CA 90027-2915
Fat J. Hardon: Man of the People, friend of the Stars.
Daniel J. Harmon
2151 Talmadge St
Los Angeles, CA 90027-2915
Fat J. Hardon: Man of the People, friend of the Stars.
Maggots on a Train
kiwifarms.net
- Joined
- Jun 4, 2017
In this thread, someone told Harmon that the Szechuan sauce event was a huge clusterfuck because fans were being assholes:
View attachment 295231
Harmon replied with this:
View attachment 295232
The other person rightfully snapped back:
View attachment 295233
And of course Harmon had to have the final word:
View attachment 295236
What a gigantic fucking cunt. I had no idea how horrible he is; I mean, I'd heard complaints about him before, but this? This twat is acting like minimum-wage employees are subhumans who should be honored to take abuse from Harmon's fans.
I know this is a thread for laughing at people but seriously, fuck Dan Harmon.
Looks like another for the long line of published content creators who look down their nose at everybody else, despite their product being only one step above shit.
- Joined
- Aug 5, 2015
Senator Gene Vagina led a decent life. Formerly a mere high school principal, he had become one of the founding leaders of Headism during the Great Upheaval, and his popularity as well as the rise of the religious movement eventually gained him a seat in Congress. Now he was living in the lap of luxury, complete with gold Rolex, his own personal limo driver, and trophy wife.
But all the luxury in the world couldn’t cure him of his one small vice: gambling. He wasn’t what anyone would call an addict, and he knew how to keep within his means. It was a hobby more than anything else, and as long as The Giant Head in the Sky didn’t forbid it, then he could indulge himself without too much guilt.
That evening, even though he was already down a few grand at the roulette wheel, he kept going, convinced that his luck would turn around.
That’s when he noticed the boy watching him from across the table, a lollipop nestled between his lips. There was an androgynous air about him, and though his outfit screamed prostitute, he didn’t turn many heads. After all, the Miami casino's dress code was already on the lax side. Still, Gene wondered if the boy was there as someone’s escort. He was far too young to have the means to afford his own entry, and it was easy to assume that he’d likely done something not very “Catholic”—to put it mildly—in order to get in. Watching him tongue suggestively at the sugary treat left no doubt in Gene’s mind as to what carnal sins the boy had committed. What was worse was that just entertaining the thought was quickly leading Gene’s imagination down more scandalous paths.
He shook his head, trying to focus on the game, but he kept losing round after round. He muttered a curse under his breath, immediately berating himself—What if The Giant Head in the Sky heard me?—when he startled at the sudden hand on his arm.
His head whipped around to find the boy hanging on his elbow, a playful grin on his face. So close to him now, Gene could make out the gold body glitter that accentuated his tan and the youthful curve of his cheeks. His long, two-tone blond hair was held back by a turquoise bandanna, and Gene could already imagine himself tearing it off to grab the boy’s mane as he fucked him from behind like a two-bit whore.
With the boy on his arm, the senator didn’t dare move, suddenly feeling as if every eye in the room were on him. Even the dealer shot him a loaded glance when he asked the players for their bets. Gene didn’t want to lose, especially with the new attention he was getting, but he was paralyzed.
"My favorite number is seven," the teen whispered in his ear.
Gene swallowed, pushing his stacks of chips onto the number seven square. It was nearly his entire earnings so far. If he lost, then he would stop, he told himself. It would kill him to see such a large sum go, but he knew he couldn’t afford to risk any more.
"All bets are in!” announced the dealer. Then he threw the ball. "Let the game begin."
The senator stole a look at the boy by his side; he seemed mesmerized by the erratic dance of the ivory ball. It bounced one last time against the metal edge of one of the pockets in its mad rush before finally stopping. Gene’s eyes went wide.
"Seven, red, odd!" The dealer’s exclamation almost made the senator jump out of his skin.
He grabbed hungrily at his winnings, and when he glanced down at the teenager, he was smiling mischievously at him, his pink sunglasses pushed up onto his forehead.
"So what are you gonna do with all that money? You wanna celebrate?” he asked, gently caressing the old man’s thigh.
Gene succumbed to the teen’s thrall so swiftly, he didn’t even have time to heed the little voice in his head warning him that this was not a good idea.
They wasted no time the moment they crossed the hotel room’s threshold. The boy threw himself eagerly at Gene’s lips as the senator rid himself of his cumbersome garments in a flurry. With only his dress shirt on, prick peeking out from beneath his flabby girth, Gene strode over to the young man who was now reclining sumptuously on the bed and proceeded to strip off his fur coat, mini-top, and pink bikini bottom. All that remained were his platform shoes which he held aloft for Gene to remove. Gene struggled with the buckles for a moment before finally slipping them off to reveal small, dainty feet with toenails painted every color of the rainbow. The senator kissed each one of them, slowly making his way up the slender leg to claim his mouth.
Without warning, the teenager grabbed his cock and moaned lustfully into the kiss, sending a bolt of excitement down to Gene's groin. Gene braced his full weight over the boy in an unquestionable show of domination, and the latter quickly wrapped his slim legs around Gene’s waist and shuddered a sigh. His blond hair fanned out over the pillow and formed a halo around his cherubic face, amplifying his seductive allure. The old senator seized his own sex and guided it between the spread thighs, groping blindly until he found the opening, as the boy’s prick swelled in anticipation.
His hole welcomed him in without resistance, and Gene noted with pleasure that the young prostitute had thoughtfully lubricated himself ahead of time to accommodate him. He rushed inside with a groan of raw pleasure, crushing the teenager beneath him. When his ball sac was finally flush with his lover’s ass, he began to pant: “Oh, that's it… You're so good... By the Heavenly Head, you feel incredible!”
The boy stroked his neck and whispered, “You can call me names if you want. I know you do.”
Gene stared bug-eyed at him.
The adolescent's wicked smile only widened. "I like it rough," he added like a confession.
It was then that the senator's self-control abandoned him, utterly and completely.
"Dirty, little whore! You like that, huh? Tell me how much you love my cock!"
“Oh, yeah! Oh, ohhh! Aah!”
The wet slapping of flesh on flesh sped up, and Rick grimaced as he lowered the volume on the mic. He grabbed the binoculars to peer in through the window of the room where Morty and Senator Vagina were currently fucking like animals. He was holed up in the building across the street with all the recording equipment he needed for his latest con. The screens displayed the inside of the room, thanks to cameras hidden on site, but the image was much clearer through the digital binoculars he’d designed himself. He could see Morty on all fours on the bed being mounted from behind by fat, old Gene Vagina, who was only wearing a shirt and fucking him as fast as he could, red as a tomato and huffing like an ox.
Bile rose in Rick’s throat at the sight, and he nearly gagged. He managed to swallow it down, however, and checked that the sound and video were recording accurately. This would provide more than enough material to blackmail Senator Assface—Rick’s personal opinion of the man—which was exactly why Morty had agreed to shag him in the first place. It shouldn’t have bothered Rick, but he couldn’t help feeling a touch of jealousy. After all, he didn’t like it when people played with his things.
"You slut!" roared the senator, frantically pounding Morty's ass. “You like that, huh? So young and already selling yourself. You must love it, you dirty whore!”
"Ah! AH! Yes! Yessss!" Morty squealed as part of the charade, his tone too shrill to be sincere. “It's so good! I love it! Oh, yes! YES!”
Morty had to fake it. Although he was obviously enjoying himself, Vagina wasn’t good enough to make him really scream. Morty only did it to excite the senator; and it was working, judging by the orgasm that overtook the old man soon enough. Unfortunately—or, rather, fortunately—it took more for Morty to cum. When Vagina collapsed onto the bed, Morty stroked his flagging penis, quickly taking it in his mouth.
Rick ground his teeth as he watched Morty suck off the senator. He wished Morty were that devoted to his cock instead.
Once the senator's dick was hard again, Morty turned around and began to ride him reverse cowboy style. Rick could see Morty’s face now. His features were screwed up in ecstasy, his eyes rolled back in his head, and his cheeks flushed red. He was biting his lip to keep from losing himself too quickly in the throes of sex.
Rick loved seeing him like that, but only when he was responsible for it.
The pleasure finally pushed Morty over the edge, and hot spunk shot out to stain the sheets and tops of his thighs.
Behind him, the senator grabbed his waist and flipped over onto his knees to continue driving into Morty’s limp form which was now ravaged by orgasm and fatigue. After the old man finally reached seventh heaven again, he let himself flop back onto the bed, limbs splayed out like a shameless starfish.
After giving himself a few seconds to catch his breath, Morty slipped the spent cock out of his ass. He crept on all fours across the bed and began picking up his clothes.
"Leaving so soon?" mumbled Gene.
“Yeah. It was fun while it lasted, but it’s almost midnight," Morty said. “Besides, I have better things to do.”
Rick smiled. His brave, little Morty always did have a way with words.
When Morty shrugged on his coat, he took a moment to count the senator's payment. It was proving to be a lucrative night, he mused. He left the room without another word.
Rick leaned out the window to track Morty’s departure from the hotel with his binoculars. Morty appeared on the sidewalk a few minutes later, giving a thumb’s up in his direction.
The scientist shut the blinds with a dry snap, plunging the room into darkness. It was barren save for the surveillance equipment, so he sat down on the floor by the wall outlet. An uncomfortable feeling itched in his chest. In an effort to quell it, he drew his flask from his pastel pink jacket and took a swig. Then he slipped a toothpick between his teeth and promptly began gnawing on it.
Soon the door before him opened and in stepped Morty. "How'd I do?" Morty asked, by way of greeting. He glanced at the security footage showing the senator in the shower—a frightening sight for the faint of heart which, thankfully, Morty was anything but.
"You were—uurp—perfect. As usual," Rick muttered, rolling the toothpick around in his mouth.
"So? Did you enjoy the show?" the young man asked, leaning against the stacked monitors and striking a seductive pose that highlighted his long, bronzed legs.
His grandfather scowled, averting his eyes. The little bastard knew all too well the effect he had on people. Sometimes Rick wondered if he really meant anything to Morty or if he was just another quick lay. The only time they had actually talked about their feelings, Rick had been so smashed that the details were getting harder and harder to recall as time passed. Rick knew how easily he could let himself be manipulated, let himself fall in with this cocky, little upstart. It wouldn’t be the first time someone had used his own emotions against him. And probably not the last.
Rick stood up, suddenly much too sober for his liking. All this self-reflection only reminded him why he preferred to be drunk most of the time.
"What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?" Morty purred as he approached Rick and laid a hand on his chest. “Then again, we don’t even have to talk.”
He hooked two fingers over Rick's belt. When Rick finally looked at him, he cocked an eyebrow. “Haven’t you had enouAUGHgh already?”
"But it wasn’t with you..." Morty murmured, blushing and perching his sunglasses on his forehead to gaze longingly at Rick with his big, green eyes.
Rick spat out the toothpick and captured Morty's lips with his own, holding his small face between his large, gnarled hands.
Morty moaned against his tongue and arched into him, hungry for physical contact. "I want you," he gasped. “R-Rick, I...I want you right now.”
"Why didn't you say so sooner, my treasure?”
Rick pressed him against the wall and lavished his throat with kisses. Morty threw his head back, moaning with pleasure, burying his small hands in the mass of blue hair belonging to his mad-scientist grandfather. Rick then grabbed Morty under his thighs and propped him up against the cheap wallpaper.
Morty sighed indulgently and lassoed Rick's waist with his ankles. A carnivorous smile curled his lips, and he yanked his pink bikini bottoms down to expose his buttocks.
Rick grabbed his ass cheeks eagerly, sliding a finger across his hole. As he expected, it was still slick, and he growled against Morty's ear, "You could’ve at least made him wear a condom." It wasn’t the first time he’d scolded the boy on the subject of sexual hygiene.
Morty just sighed as he ground his crotch against Rick lewdly. “But I like it without. Besides, he was too excited to roll one on.”
Rick unzipped his fly and wrestled his stiff cock out. “Then I'll just have to give it to you d-deep, MoEUUURGHty. So deep that your sweet, little ass remembers who it belongs to.”
The teenager shuddered against him, his rock-hard sex trapped between their bellies as they embraced. "Oh, Rick!" Morty keened, closing his eyes when the head of Rick’s cock breached his wet and still sensitive hole.
Youth made Morty horny and insatiable. He loved to fuck—especially with the one man he wanted the most.
Then Rick began to push in, gradually making his way inside. He felt Morty pulsing around his intruding member, and he knew that the young man was loving every inch of him. He was bigger around and much longer than Senator Vagina, and this was why Morty always came back to him in the end: He was the best lay he’d ever have.
“Oh! OH! Rick! Riiiick! Ah!”
"That’s good, Morty," Rick breathed, caressing his back. “You take the whole thing like a pro now. Hnnnn, so tight... Like a fuckin’ sheath for my cock.”
The young man clenched his muscles as Rick thrust into him over and over, driving him into the wall. Possessiveness blinded his senses, and he was suddenly overcome with a desire to dominate Morty, prove to him that he was his one and only master.
Unable even to draw a proper breath during his wild bucking, Rick gave one final thrust and let his orgasm engulf him, filling Morty with his seed.
Within seconds, his arms began to tremble beneath the effort of holding him up. Morty may not have been that heavy, but Rick’s muscles weren’t what they used to be.
The young man stepped down onto his feet gingerly, semen oozing down the inside of his thigh. "Ah, man. It's getting everywhere," Morty grumbled as he tried to wipe himself clean.
Rick held him by the wrist. “Serves you right for not making him wear a rubber,” Rick seethed. “You know how this shit works, so don’t bitch to me about getting the runs now.”
Vexed and embarrassed, Morty shot him a glare. “Wow. Really classy, Rick!”
“At your service.”
"Ugh! Whatever! J-just...fuck off!" Morty stammered angrily.
Rick grinned. “What do you think I just did, MoEURGHty? Thought the jizz dripping down your—URP—leg would be a dead giveaway.”
Visibly shocked by his words but determined not to let it show, Morty pulled up his bikini bottom and wrapped himself in his coat, his expression pained. "Whatever. If we’re done here, I'm going home."
“That's right, Morty. Now that I got my dick wet, you can go,” Rick spat, turning his back. He heard Morty stifle a sob.
Fine. So he’d been a little—more like very—harsh. He hadn't even really meant any of it, but he didn’t want to think about that now. He just wanted to focus on the money he was going to extort from that douchebag Gene Vagina for daring to touch his grandson.
Rick gritted his teeth as the door slammed shut behind him.
He missed Morty already and hated himself for that.
Rick, being a Rick, was still an asshole, and he refused to acknowledge that what had happened affected him the way it did. The fact that they fucked didn’t change their relationship, so why should Rick be any nicer to Morty? Sure, they’d shared tender words in the heat of the moment, but Morty should’ve known better than anyone that sex could make you say just about anything.
But all the luxury in the world couldn’t cure him of his one small vice: gambling. He wasn’t what anyone would call an addict, and he knew how to keep within his means. It was a hobby more than anything else, and as long as The Giant Head in the Sky didn’t forbid it, then he could indulge himself without too much guilt.
That evening, even though he was already down a few grand at the roulette wheel, he kept going, convinced that his luck would turn around.
That’s when he noticed the boy watching him from across the table, a lollipop nestled between his lips. There was an androgynous air about him, and though his outfit screamed prostitute, he didn’t turn many heads. After all, the Miami casino's dress code was already on the lax side. Still, Gene wondered if the boy was there as someone’s escort. He was far too young to have the means to afford his own entry, and it was easy to assume that he’d likely done something not very “Catholic”—to put it mildly—in order to get in. Watching him tongue suggestively at the sugary treat left no doubt in Gene’s mind as to what carnal sins the boy had committed. What was worse was that just entertaining the thought was quickly leading Gene’s imagination down more scandalous paths.
He shook his head, trying to focus on the game, but he kept losing round after round. He muttered a curse under his breath, immediately berating himself—What if The Giant Head in the Sky heard me?—when he startled at the sudden hand on his arm.
His head whipped around to find the boy hanging on his elbow, a playful grin on his face. So close to him now, Gene could make out the gold body glitter that accentuated his tan and the youthful curve of his cheeks. His long, two-tone blond hair was held back by a turquoise bandanna, and Gene could already imagine himself tearing it off to grab the boy’s mane as he fucked him from behind like a two-bit whore.
With the boy on his arm, the senator didn’t dare move, suddenly feeling as if every eye in the room were on him. Even the dealer shot him a loaded glance when he asked the players for their bets. Gene didn’t want to lose, especially with the new attention he was getting, but he was paralyzed.
"My favorite number is seven," the teen whispered in his ear.
Gene swallowed, pushing his stacks of chips onto the number seven square. It was nearly his entire earnings so far. If he lost, then he would stop, he told himself. It would kill him to see such a large sum go, but he knew he couldn’t afford to risk any more.
"All bets are in!” announced the dealer. Then he threw the ball. "Let the game begin."
The senator stole a look at the boy by his side; he seemed mesmerized by the erratic dance of the ivory ball. It bounced one last time against the metal edge of one of the pockets in its mad rush before finally stopping. Gene’s eyes went wide.
"Seven, red, odd!" The dealer’s exclamation almost made the senator jump out of his skin.
He grabbed hungrily at his winnings, and when he glanced down at the teenager, he was smiling mischievously at him, his pink sunglasses pushed up onto his forehead.
"So what are you gonna do with all that money? You wanna celebrate?” he asked, gently caressing the old man’s thigh.
Gene succumbed to the teen’s thrall so swiftly, he didn’t even have time to heed the little voice in his head warning him that this was not a good idea.
They wasted no time the moment they crossed the hotel room’s threshold. The boy threw himself eagerly at Gene’s lips as the senator rid himself of his cumbersome garments in a flurry. With only his dress shirt on, prick peeking out from beneath his flabby girth, Gene strode over to the young man who was now reclining sumptuously on the bed and proceeded to strip off his fur coat, mini-top, and pink bikini bottom. All that remained were his platform shoes which he held aloft for Gene to remove. Gene struggled with the buckles for a moment before finally slipping them off to reveal small, dainty feet with toenails painted every color of the rainbow. The senator kissed each one of them, slowly making his way up the slender leg to claim his mouth.
Without warning, the teenager grabbed his cock and moaned lustfully into the kiss, sending a bolt of excitement down to Gene's groin. Gene braced his full weight over the boy in an unquestionable show of domination, and the latter quickly wrapped his slim legs around Gene’s waist and shuddered a sigh. His blond hair fanned out over the pillow and formed a halo around his cherubic face, amplifying his seductive allure. The old senator seized his own sex and guided it between the spread thighs, groping blindly until he found the opening, as the boy’s prick swelled in anticipation.
His hole welcomed him in without resistance, and Gene noted with pleasure that the young prostitute had thoughtfully lubricated himself ahead of time to accommodate him. He rushed inside with a groan of raw pleasure, crushing the teenager beneath him. When his ball sac was finally flush with his lover’s ass, he began to pant: “Oh, that's it… You're so good... By the Heavenly Head, you feel incredible!”
The boy stroked his neck and whispered, “You can call me names if you want. I know you do.”
Gene stared bug-eyed at him.
The adolescent's wicked smile only widened. "I like it rough," he added like a confession.
It was then that the senator's self-control abandoned him, utterly and completely.
"Dirty, little whore! You like that, huh? Tell me how much you love my cock!"
“Oh, yeah! Oh, ohhh! Aah!”
The wet slapping of flesh on flesh sped up, and Rick grimaced as he lowered the volume on the mic. He grabbed the binoculars to peer in through the window of the room where Morty and Senator Vagina were currently fucking like animals. He was holed up in the building across the street with all the recording equipment he needed for his latest con. The screens displayed the inside of the room, thanks to cameras hidden on site, but the image was much clearer through the digital binoculars he’d designed himself. He could see Morty on all fours on the bed being mounted from behind by fat, old Gene Vagina, who was only wearing a shirt and fucking him as fast as he could, red as a tomato and huffing like an ox.
Bile rose in Rick’s throat at the sight, and he nearly gagged. He managed to swallow it down, however, and checked that the sound and video were recording accurately. This would provide more than enough material to blackmail Senator Assface—Rick’s personal opinion of the man—which was exactly why Morty had agreed to shag him in the first place. It shouldn’t have bothered Rick, but he couldn’t help feeling a touch of jealousy. After all, he didn’t like it when people played with his things.
"You slut!" roared the senator, frantically pounding Morty's ass. “You like that, huh? So young and already selling yourself. You must love it, you dirty whore!”
"Ah! AH! Yes! Yessss!" Morty squealed as part of the charade, his tone too shrill to be sincere. “It's so good! I love it! Oh, yes! YES!”
Morty had to fake it. Although he was obviously enjoying himself, Vagina wasn’t good enough to make him really scream. Morty only did it to excite the senator; and it was working, judging by the orgasm that overtook the old man soon enough. Unfortunately—or, rather, fortunately—it took more for Morty to cum. When Vagina collapsed onto the bed, Morty stroked his flagging penis, quickly taking it in his mouth.
Rick ground his teeth as he watched Morty suck off the senator. He wished Morty were that devoted to his cock instead.
Once the senator's dick was hard again, Morty turned around and began to ride him reverse cowboy style. Rick could see Morty’s face now. His features were screwed up in ecstasy, his eyes rolled back in his head, and his cheeks flushed red. He was biting his lip to keep from losing himself too quickly in the throes of sex.
Rick loved seeing him like that, but only when he was responsible for it.
The pleasure finally pushed Morty over the edge, and hot spunk shot out to stain the sheets and tops of his thighs.
Behind him, the senator grabbed his waist and flipped over onto his knees to continue driving into Morty’s limp form which was now ravaged by orgasm and fatigue. After the old man finally reached seventh heaven again, he let himself flop back onto the bed, limbs splayed out like a shameless starfish.
After giving himself a few seconds to catch his breath, Morty slipped the spent cock out of his ass. He crept on all fours across the bed and began picking up his clothes.
"Leaving so soon?" mumbled Gene.
“Yeah. It was fun while it lasted, but it’s almost midnight," Morty said. “Besides, I have better things to do.”
Rick smiled. His brave, little Morty always did have a way with words.
When Morty shrugged on his coat, he took a moment to count the senator's payment. It was proving to be a lucrative night, he mused. He left the room without another word.
Rick leaned out the window to track Morty’s departure from the hotel with his binoculars. Morty appeared on the sidewalk a few minutes later, giving a thumb’s up in his direction.
The scientist shut the blinds with a dry snap, plunging the room into darkness. It was barren save for the surveillance equipment, so he sat down on the floor by the wall outlet. An uncomfortable feeling itched in his chest. In an effort to quell it, he drew his flask from his pastel pink jacket and took a swig. Then he slipped a toothpick between his teeth and promptly began gnawing on it.
Soon the door before him opened and in stepped Morty. "How'd I do?" Morty asked, by way of greeting. He glanced at the security footage showing the senator in the shower—a frightening sight for the faint of heart which, thankfully, Morty was anything but.
"You were—uurp—perfect. As usual," Rick muttered, rolling the toothpick around in his mouth.
"So? Did you enjoy the show?" the young man asked, leaning against the stacked monitors and striking a seductive pose that highlighted his long, bronzed legs.
His grandfather scowled, averting his eyes. The little bastard knew all too well the effect he had on people. Sometimes Rick wondered if he really meant anything to Morty or if he was just another quick lay. The only time they had actually talked about their feelings, Rick had been so smashed that the details were getting harder and harder to recall as time passed. Rick knew how easily he could let himself be manipulated, let himself fall in with this cocky, little upstart. It wouldn’t be the first time someone had used his own emotions against him. And probably not the last.
Rick stood up, suddenly much too sober for his liking. All this self-reflection only reminded him why he preferred to be drunk most of the time.
"What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?" Morty purred as he approached Rick and laid a hand on his chest. “Then again, we don’t even have to talk.”
He hooked two fingers over Rick's belt. When Rick finally looked at him, he cocked an eyebrow. “Haven’t you had enouAUGHgh already?”
"But it wasn’t with you..." Morty murmured, blushing and perching his sunglasses on his forehead to gaze longingly at Rick with his big, green eyes.
Rick spat out the toothpick and captured Morty's lips with his own, holding his small face between his large, gnarled hands.
Morty moaned against his tongue and arched into him, hungry for physical contact. "I want you," he gasped. “R-Rick, I...I want you right now.”
"Why didn't you say so sooner, my treasure?”
Rick pressed him against the wall and lavished his throat with kisses. Morty threw his head back, moaning with pleasure, burying his small hands in the mass of blue hair belonging to his mad-scientist grandfather. Rick then grabbed Morty under his thighs and propped him up against the cheap wallpaper.
Morty sighed indulgently and lassoed Rick's waist with his ankles. A carnivorous smile curled his lips, and he yanked his pink bikini bottoms down to expose his buttocks.
Rick grabbed his ass cheeks eagerly, sliding a finger across his hole. As he expected, it was still slick, and he growled against Morty's ear, "You could’ve at least made him wear a condom." It wasn’t the first time he’d scolded the boy on the subject of sexual hygiene.
Morty just sighed as he ground his crotch against Rick lewdly. “But I like it without. Besides, he was too excited to roll one on.”
Rick unzipped his fly and wrestled his stiff cock out. “Then I'll just have to give it to you d-deep, MoEUUURGHty. So deep that your sweet, little ass remembers who it belongs to.”
The teenager shuddered against him, his rock-hard sex trapped between their bellies as they embraced. "Oh, Rick!" Morty keened, closing his eyes when the head of Rick’s cock breached his wet and still sensitive hole.
Youth made Morty horny and insatiable. He loved to fuck—especially with the one man he wanted the most.
Then Rick began to push in, gradually making his way inside. He felt Morty pulsing around his intruding member, and he knew that the young man was loving every inch of him. He was bigger around and much longer than Senator Vagina, and this was why Morty always came back to him in the end: He was the best lay he’d ever have.
“Oh! OH! Rick! Riiiick! Ah!”
"That’s good, Morty," Rick breathed, caressing his back. “You take the whole thing like a pro now. Hnnnn, so tight... Like a fuckin’ sheath for my cock.”
The young man clenched his muscles as Rick thrust into him over and over, driving him into the wall. Possessiveness blinded his senses, and he was suddenly overcome with a desire to dominate Morty, prove to him that he was his one and only master.
Unable even to draw a proper breath during his wild bucking, Rick gave one final thrust and let his orgasm engulf him, filling Morty with his seed.
Within seconds, his arms began to tremble beneath the effort of holding him up. Morty may not have been that heavy, but Rick’s muscles weren’t what they used to be.
The young man stepped down onto his feet gingerly, semen oozing down the inside of his thigh. "Ah, man. It's getting everywhere," Morty grumbled as he tried to wipe himself clean.
Rick held him by the wrist. “Serves you right for not making him wear a rubber,” Rick seethed. “You know how this shit works, so don’t bitch to me about getting the runs now.”
Vexed and embarrassed, Morty shot him a glare. “Wow. Really classy, Rick!”
“At your service.”
"Ugh! Whatever! J-just...fuck off!" Morty stammered angrily.
Rick grinned. “What do you think I just did, MoEURGHty? Thought the jizz dripping down your—URP—leg would be a dead giveaway.”
Visibly shocked by his words but determined not to let it show, Morty pulled up his bikini bottom and wrapped himself in his coat, his expression pained. "Whatever. If we’re done here, I'm going home."
“That's right, Morty. Now that I got my dick wet, you can go,” Rick spat, turning his back. He heard Morty stifle a sob.
Fine. So he’d been a little—more like very—harsh. He hadn't even really meant any of it, but he didn’t want to think about that now. He just wanted to focus on the money he was going to extort from that douchebag Gene Vagina for daring to touch his grandson.
Rick gritted his teeth as the door slammed shut behind him.
He missed Morty already and hated himself for that.
Rick, being a Rick, was still an asshole, and he refused to acknowledge that what had happened affected him the way it did. The fact that they fucked didn’t change their relationship, so why should Rick be any nicer to Morty? Sure, they’d shared tender words in the heat of the moment, but Morty should’ve known better than anyone that sex could make you say just about anything.