Cooks

                At 3:30 p.m. on a Tuesday, the last of the midday joggers had cleared out of Cook Memorial Park, and the evening regular exercisers were still at work.  Ken DeLozier Cook knew that this was the perfect time to accomplish his plan.  It was the only time that the park provided the absolute privacy that he would need.  He sat inside his car, watching carefully for passersby, lest his secret plot be discovered.

                Though he was the sole financial provider for a very large family, Ken held no power in his own home.  With so many children, he had to schedule alone time just to be with his wife and the mother of his many, many children.  Their attempts at love-making were invariably interrupted by the countless shenanigans of the extended Cook family.  No room in his house was safe.  The bathroom was constantly occupied, as was the family computer.  How could a father find relief through internet porn when there was always a school project or video game being played?

                Still, in this lonely corner of the park, on a still, silent weekday afternoon, Ken knew that he would finally find the release that he so desperately needed.  In order to accomplish his goal, he had to lie to his secretary, Karen Cassady Cook, and sneak past his boss, Charles Pittard Cook, but it would all be worth it soon.  He could only imagine the look on Karen’s face if she knew what he was doing right now.  She might be the office gossip, but she was also a stone-cold prude.

                Ken opened his briefcase, which normally held his important paperwork from his job at the Cook Insurance Company, and reached into a secret compartment that contained the essential items of his quest, a freshly washed sock and a bottle of lubricant.  He ran his thumb across the mouth of the sock, pretending it was the mouth of Victoria Sun Cook, his 18 year old niece who was constantly walking around the house topless.  It wasn’t her fault.  Child protective services took her away from her home after her parents refused to buy her clothing, and Ken surmised that she had simply fallen into the habit of not wearing any.  Though her hands were always tastefully draped across her chest, and though Ken would never hurt her in real life, he couldn’t help but fantasize about giving her a first real taste of adult sexuality.

                Unzipping his fly, Ken let loose the paterfamilias, the magic wand that had spawned so many… one might even dare to say too many… Cooks.  In his youth, it stood like a rock monolith to the gods, spewing forth the light from which all life would form.  Now, in his advanced middle age, it was more like a soft, pliable grocery store pastry that required only a small amount of attention before it evacuated its warm, sticky cream filing.  In color, it was barely distinguishable from his beige khakis and barely formed a contrast when placed adjacent to his notorious red shirt.

                With his manhood free, Ken slowly emptied the contents of the bottle into his white gym sock with the two green strips around the neck.  He liked the cavernous opening to be moist and inviting before he placed it over his cock.  The sock did not disappoint, and soon Ken’s mind began to drift as his body experience a level of pleasure that was only heightened by the fact that he was experiencing it in a very public place.

                As Ken fapped away, his mind took him to a world that was entirely inhabited by Cooks, not his actual children, but of all the potential Cooks that could be created by his seed.  He continued to rub, gaining in speed and intensity as he imagined each of their faces.  They looked at him as though he were a god.  With but a few more strokes, he could either save their potential lives or eradicate them forever.  He could hear their voices, begging for him to save them, begging him to stop.  The power that he felt over these poor lost souls helped him reach a new level of fortitude, close to three quarters of what he used to reach in his youth.  Soon, they were just faces in a giant montage, pleading, bargaining, but he would have his relief.  As he ejaculated into the sock, he saw their world fade to black, unmourned and unobserved by anyone but himself.

                Ken sat back in his seat, satiated and filled with a sense of absolute power that he had not experienced since the lusty days of his early adulthood.  He was so lost in thought that he visible jumped when he heard a rapping on his driver side window.  Sitting bolt upright, Ken came face to face with Cook County’s finest new police woman, Patrol Officer Ali Froid Cook, and her partner, Sergeant Ed Kercado Cook.