Aussie Bottom Boy

Chaz and I weren’t supposed to be sharing a hotel room. There had been a mistake when our company booked us for a three-day financial conference in Chicago, and we were forced to share a room. Most straight guys like me would never agree to sleep in the same room as an openly gay dude, but I didn’t mind because Chaz was my friend and I trusted him to not exploit the situation. 

Chaz was the only gay guy on our all-male team of financial planners at work. It wasn’t easy for him, trying to fit in amongst the guys with his ear piercings and often over-the-top demeanor. But Chaz was stellar at his job, proving his merit in a boys’ club that possessed all the toxic masculinity of a frat house on a Saturday night.

Sadly, the other guys in the office often ostracized Chaz, never inviting him for lunch, golf, or beers after work. I felt bad for him, and so I made an effort to befriend Chaz despite the snickers from the other guys behind my back. 

“You’re not weirded out that we are the only two guys on the team being sent to the conference in Chicago?” Chaz asked with concern when we were given our orders. “A lot of the guys in the office already think we’re fucking just because you have the decency to talk to me.”

“Fuck those homophobic assholes,” I replied. “I’m a happily married man. I have no reason to fear their gossip and insinuations. Being work buds doesn’t make us fuck buds.”

“That could be arranged,” Chaz winked. 

“Yeah, right,” I laughed. “I know I’m not your type. You’ve shown me the photos of all those Grindr twinks you fuck.”

The fact that we could joke about our differing sexual orientations allowed me to have no concern when I was forced to share a hotel room with Chaz in Chicago. I trusted him completely to not make a move on me. But did I trust myself?

The first day of the conference had been exhausting. We had taken an early-morning flight and then suffered through a painful round of sessions. There was a cocktail party and then a dinner, followed by a keynote speaker who droned on endlessly. By the time Chaz and I got back upstairs to our hotel room, all I wanted was a hot shower. 

Chaz was sitting on the edge of his bed, hunched over his phone, when I emerged from the bathroom freshly showered, a flimsy hotel towel wrapped around my waist. A series of pings emitted from his phone as he tapped at the screen. 

“You playing a game?” I asked. 

“No, but it often feels like a game of cat and mouse,” Chaz laughed. “I’m actually on Grindr looking for some ass to fuck.”

“Wait—you’re gonna invite some random guy here to our hotel room—to fuck?”

“Calm down,” Chaz raised his hand to subdue me. “I’m not going to fuck some dude in front of you. I’m looking for a guy who can host, which is proving to be almost impossible.”

“I’m sorry,” I offered feebly. 

“If you were truly sorry, you’d drop that towel and let me mount your ass on this bed,” Chaz laughed in jest. “But I know you’d never take a dick up your ass.”

“Don’t be so sure,” I admitted, the three martinis from the cocktail party still working their magic on my inhibitions. “I’m not as innocent as you think.”

“Wait—what?” Chaz gasped. 

“Jesus, I’ve never told anyone this,” I exhaled, taking a seat next to Chaz on the bed. “My wife likes to peg my ass with a strap-on,” I confessed. “She enjoys the power dynamic. We saw an intimacy coach when our sex life was in the toilet after our kids were born, and he suggested we try pegging to sort of flip the script. My wife loves it.”

“But do you love it?” Chaz asked. “Taking a fake dick up your ass?”

“Yeah—I do,” I admitted freely. “I had to warm up to it at first, but I quickly learned that it feels really good. I’ve had some of the best orgasms of my life with that fake dick up my ass.”

“Have you ever thought of taking a real dick up your ass—you know, one that wasn’t made of latex?” Chaz inquired. 

“Yeah—I have,” I acknowledged, reaching for his crotch, rubbing his hard cock through his pants. “I’ve thought a lot about taking your cock.”

“Oh yeah?” Chaz smiled deviously, undoing his pants. “I should warn you that I’m a lot bigger than some six-inch strap-on that your wife uses on you. I’m hung like fuck.” 

The dude wasn’t kidding. 

“Holy fucking Christ,” I gasped as Chaz pulled out his cock. It was easily north of nine-inches, thick and veiny, crowned with a huge mushroom head that was already leaking precum. 

“You still want this big dick up your ass,” Chaz taunted, slapping that big piece of meat against his open palm. “You don’t have to take it, if it’s too big for you.”

“No—I—I want it,” I stammered, still in awe of its magnitude. “I want you to fuck me with that big cock.”

“You ever sucked a man’s cock?” he asked, swiping up the precum running down his shaft and forcing his finger into my mouth. A luscious taste of salty and sweet coated my tongue, whetting my appetite for more. “You ever had a dick down your throat?”

“No,” I admitted, reaching for his cock with my hand, bringing it to my lips. Chaz allowed me to lick up and down his thick shaft and then suck on that massive head before he grabbed the back of my head and forced his big cock down my throat. I gagged on it, unable to take it all the way.

“Don’t worry about that,” he laughed, extracting his cock from my throat. “I’m not looking for some head tonight. I want to fuck your ass.”

I then watched as Chaz stood up from the bed and removed his clothes, his big dick maintaining a rock-hard erection the entire time. He then rifled through his toiletry kit in the bathroom, producing a small bottle of lube. 

“How does your wife peg you?” he asked, greasing up his cock with lube, pumping it with his fist. “I bet she prefers missionary.”

“Yeah,” I confirmed. “She likes to look in my eyes when she’s pegging my ass.”

“Then roll over onto your stomach,” Chaz commanded. “We’re gonna play it a bit differently for you tonight. I want you to feel the weight of my body upon you as I wreck your hole from behind.”

Obediently, I opened my towel, discarding it on the floor before rolling onto my stomach. I was ass up on the bed, my hole presented to Chaz for his domination. 

“Fuck, you’ve got a pretty cunt,” Chaz marveled, climbing on the bed behind me and spreading my ass cheeks. His face was suddenly in my butt crack, his stache tickling my hole, his tongue probing at my orifice. 

“Christ, that feels good,” I exhaled as Chaz licked and sucked at my puckered sphincter, getting it ready for his big dick.

“I take it your wife doesn’t eat your hole before she pegs you,” Chaz assumed correctly. “I could eat your ass all night, but I’m more in the mood to fuck.”

And then I felt it, Chaz’s muscular body upon mine, his hairy chest pressed into my back. His rounded cock head was soon pressed against my hole, my sphincter bracing against the intrusion. And then with a swift thrust, Chaz was inside me. 

“FUCK,” I screamed, my voice echoing against the walls of the room as Chaz went balls deep in my void. “You’re so fucking big.”

“You’re just realizing this now?” he laughed, playfully biting my ear as he routed my fuck canal. He was employing a series of deep strokes, already exploring far deeper than my wife’s strap-on had ever been. 

“Is this your first time?” I inquired, my novice hole still on fire. “You know—your first time fucking a straight guy like me?”

“Hardly,” Chaz laughed openly. “If it wasn’t for straight guys, I wouldn’t have gotten laid as often as I did in college. Those frat boys sure love bending over when you get a few shots of tequila in them.”

He was pounding me hard, his hairy body slamming into me over and over. It was nothing like being pegged by my wife. The brutality of having a man inside of me, dominating me with his big cock, forcing me to submit to his animalistic desire, was a huge turn on. 

“Raise your ass,” Chaz commanded me. “Open that cunt for me.”

And then it happened. As I tilted my pelvis, raising my ass slightly above the mattress beneath me, I felt it. Chaz’s big cock pushed impossibly deep within me. There was a sudden change in pressure that felt like the pop of a champagne cork, another portal opening within me. 

“I just busted your second hole,” Chaz breathed in my ear, his thick stache tickling my cheek as he ravaged my quivering hole. He had breached my inner-sphincter, my eyes rolling back into my head. “I bet your wife can’t do that with that latex strap-on she pegs you with,” he laughed mockingly, his meaty hand gripping my neck. 

He was right. I had never been routed so deep. The sensation was incredible, my toes curling, waves of pleasure consuming my body as Chaz proceeded to fuck the living shit out of me. 

“You like being fucked by a real man?” he asked, his muscular arms sliding under my body, pulling me into him. “And not some fake dick attached to your wife?”

“Yes,” I croaked, nearly unable to breathe under his weight upon me, his balls slapping my hole with each deliberate thrust. “Your big cock feels so good inside me.”

And then I felt it—his cock expanding inside my fuck canal, his balls beginning to throb against my hole. Chaz was about to bust his nut in me and, in that moment, I had never wanted something more in my life than to take his seed. 

“You ready for my load?” he demanded urgently, battering my bowels. “You ready for me to breed this quivering cunt?”

“Yes,” I gasped. “Fucking breed me.”

“FUCK,” he growled deeply, a cum bomb detonating inside me. I could feel every shot of his load as his big dick pulsed inside of my bowels, spewing his seed into my deepest recesses. “FUCK—FUCK,” he continued to grunt, his body writhing atop me, consumed by the throes of an epic orgasm. 

Chaz stayed within me long after his orgasm had ceased, the last of his seed expelled from his balls. “Are you still hard?” I asked in disbelief. 

“Yeah,” he laughed. “I can go multiple rounds before going soft. I hope you like this big cock inside you, because it’s going to be a long night.”

Chaz dumped three more loads in me that night. We skipped the morning session of the conference and fucked our brains out, finally emerging from our hotel room for lunch. I returned home to my family three days later a changed man, my ass sore but completely fulfilled. 

My wife and kids threw their arms around me at the front door, welcoming me home. “I’ve missed you,” my wife kissed me. “I’m really wanting to peg your ass tonight,” she whispered in my ear seductively once the kids were out of range. 

“Yeah—about that,” I replied. “I’ve decided we’re gonna need to get you a bigger strap-on. I want the largest size available.”

“We were overstaffed, so they sent me home,” I reported, noting his apprehension. “What? Is that, like, a problem for you?”

“No,” Dad dismissed. “It’s just that I—uh—I’ve sort of got—”

“You’ve got a hookup coming over,” I cut him off.

“Yeah,” he admitted sheepishly. “He’s gonna be here any minute.”

The divorce had been good for Dad. With my nagging mom out of his life, he began to put some serious work into himself. By lifting weights and eating right, Dad lost the beer belly and had packed on some serious muscle. Almost overnight, he was a total zaddy.

Dad found more than just a new body at the gym—he found easy sex with guys. Getting his big dick sucked by a sauna slut was a revelation for him. He no longer needed the hassle of sex with women—the dating, the romance, the drama. Sex with men was, well, just sex. No strings. Pump, dump, and go.

Unapologetically, Dad started dragging home guys to fuck on a regular basis. Most of them were my age or younger—often barely legal. It was impossible to ignore the psychology behind that, but it was really none of my business. My dad supported me without question when I came out to him in my teens, and now I owed him the same.

It became fairly common for me to awake in the middle of the night to the sounds of Dad giving it to some young guy—the bed springs squeaking, the headboard hitting the wall, Dad grunting his load into yet another wrecked hole. And so I wasn’t surprised to learn Dad had invited over a hookup when he thought I’d be at work.

“I’ll stay out of your hair,” I promised Dad. “Is this one a regular?”

“A regular?” Dad laughed. “Life is too short for regulars. Nah—he’s just a piece of ass I found on Grindr, looking to get his boy pussy dominated by a hung daddy like me.”

But before I could respond, the doorbell rang. Dad lunged for the door, opening it to reveal a blond twink who looked not a day over eighteen. With his lithe body and tight ass, I knew Dad was going to eagerly enjoy pulverizing his cunt.

“I’m confused—are you guys tagging me?” the twink asked, taking me in as he entered the house.

“No,” Dad insisted quickly. “He’s my son, but he’s not joining us.”

“Okay,” the twink shrugged as Dad steered him back to his bedroom, his hand on the boy’s ass.

I knew it was sick. I knew it was fucked up. But I enjoyed eavesdropping on Dad when he was fucking a guy. It was like having live porn in the house, though just the sound. But hearing those sounds—the moans, groans, and grunts—could really get me off.

“That’s it—fucking choke on it,” I could soon hear Dad growling, the boy retching on Dad’s big dick. Dad loved receiving oral and rarely fucked a guy’s ass without first ramming his throat. “Watch your fuckin’ teeth,” Dad admonished.

“Sorry,” the boy croaked. “You’re thick as fuck.”

“All the more reason you’re gonna love it up your ass,” Dad rejoined playfully, with what sounded like his cock slapping against the boy’s cheek.

Dad soon delivered on his promise, the boy screaming his head off as Dad penetrated his tight hole. “Slow up—slow up,” the twink begged, his voice echoing through the house. “You’re so fucking big.”

But Dad didn’t slow up, as evidenced by the sounds of him grunting as he thrusted deeply into the boy over and over again. Skin slapping skin, the headboard hitting the wall. Dad was giving it to him hard.

“Spread those legs—open that cunt wider for me,” Dad ordered as the twink moaned like a bitch in heat. “Yeah. You’re gonna get my cum soon.”

Dad wasn’t kidding—pumping his load deep into the boy with a loud, “FUCK,” that shook the walls of the house.

“Breed me,” the twink begged. “Yeah—fucking seed me.”

The house was remarkably quiet after Dad dumped his load in the twink. I knew it would be just a matter of minutes before the boy did his walk of shame in front of me, Dad steering him to the front door, never to return.

As predicted, Dad’s door creaked open, footsteps in the hallway. But Dad was alone, naked, his big cock wet and glistening with lube and cum.

“You want to fuck him?” Dad offered. “He wants to have his ass tagged.”

Jesus, this was fucked up—but so fucking hot. Scrambling to my feet, I pulled off my clothes as Dad led me to his bedroom. I was rock hard before crossing the threshold.

“Your cock looks just like mine,” Dad winked. “I’m glad to see you that you inherited my—endowment.”

I paused in the doorway, taking in the sight of the twink on all fours atop the bed. From his gaping hole leaked my Dad’s pearly load—the primordial ooze of my own existence.

“As you can see, you’re not gonna need lube. He’s ready to go,” Dad observed, pushing me into the bedroom. “Now fuck the slut.”

Gripping my hard cock in my fist, I stepped up to the plate and pushed into the twink as he sighed in delight. I slid into his depths effortlessly, his stretched hole already used and abused by Dad’s big dick.

The feeling of Dad’s warm load coating my shaft as I made my first deep strokes was sublime. No synthetic lube can compare with the natural viscosity of another man’s cum.

“You like his big cock up your ass?” Dad hissed into the twink’s ear. “You like getting dicked down by a father and his son?”

“Yes,” the boy croaked, his puffy hole straining against my girth. “His big cock feels so good inside me.”

Dad moved behind me, his hands massaging my shoulders like I was a boxer about to go into the ring. “You like his cunt?” Dad inquired, his hot breath at my ear. “You like fucking him with my load in his guts?”

“Yes, Dad,” I nodded, pounding the shit out of the moaning twink, his hands gripping the bedsheet as I pummeled his wet hole. “His cunt feels so fucking good.”

“You gonna take his load?” Dad turned his attention urgently back to the twink. “You gonna let my son cum up your ass?”

“Yes,” the boy nodded breathlessly.

“I can’t hear you,” Dad persisted. “Tell me you want his cum. Tell me you want to be bred by a father and his son—both our loads swimming in your cummy hole.”

“I want your loads,” the twink voiced louder. “I want to be bred by a dad and his son.”

“Because you’re a slut,” Dad prompted.

“Because I’m a slut,” the twink cried out, gripping the sheet tighter as I rammed him harder.

“Good,” Dad smiled. Turning to me, he gave my marching orders: “Dump your load in this slutty motherfucker.”

As if on cue, my balls responded promptly, my cock throbbing, my shaft swelling. “FUCK,” I grunted, the walls shaking as my cock erupted inside the twink’s used pussy.

“Damn,” Dad marveled, his hands on my shoulders once more. “You even sound like me when you cum.”

With my balls emptied, I pulled out of the twink, my load commingled with dad’s load as it leaked from that wrecked cunt. Swiping up our cum soup with his fingers, Dad fed it to the twink.

“Yeah, taste our loads together,” Dad ordered as the twink ravenously lapped up the melange of cum from Dad’s fingers.

“Show him to the door,” Dad announced suddenly as he ambled to the bathroom, his work done. “I’m gonna take a shower.”

“That was fucking hot,” the twink shared, pulling on his clothes, cum still leaking from his pulverized boy pussy. “You think you two might like to fuck me again?”

“Sure,” I lied, knowing Dad was too eager to sample life’s buffet, never wanting to eat the same meal twice.

Dad grilled up some steaks for dinner. Over a few beers, we compared notes on the slutty twink, Dad also sharing anecdotes of the many guys he had bagged in recent months. It was fun being able to talk to him about sex like a buddy and not just my dad.

I was watching TV in bed later that evening when Dad suddenly appeared in my room, thrusting his phone in my face.

“What do you think of this guy?” Dad asked, a photo of a half-naked bear cub in a lascivious pose on the screen, his hairy body begging to be defiled. “He’s down to be tagged by us tonight. And he says he’s looking for something called DP. What the fuck is that?”

“DP—you know—double penetration,” I informed Dad. “He wants both our cocks in his cunt at once.”

“Christ, that’s hot,” Dad gasped, his shorts tenting as he quickly pinged our address to the cub. “He says he’ll be here in ten minutes.”

Stories are fiction and intended for readers 18 and up. All characters are assumed to be legal, consenting adults.

Mr. Federer was the hottest teacher at my high school, and the youngest at just 23 years old. His Abercrombie good looks, athletic body, scruffy beard, stormy eyes, and killer smile made him popular with every girl in the school—and us gay guys, too. The icing on the cake was that he was allegedly hung like fuck. 

He was called Federer the Predator behind his back, due to rumors of frequent hookups with female students. The age of consent in the state was 16, and Mr. Federer exploited it. Absent a complaint to the school board, which never happened, our school became his own private cherry-picking farm. 

The tale of him and three cheerleaders in the faculty lounge after hours was legendary. As was the one about him and the captain of the girls lacrosse team in the girls locker room. And when student body president Mandy Shields had to be out of school for several months without explanation, everyone suspected Mr. Federer was the baby daddy. 

Of course, none of it could be proven, it was all just hearsay. The school administration was powerless to do anything about Mr. Federer because no female student ever complained about him. And why would they? His big cock was a mountain that every girl in school wanted to climb. Myself, included. 

My only issue with Mr. Federer was that he didn’t give gay guys like me so much as a glance. I wanted my fair chance with his big cock, too. Straight guys can be so unfair at times. 

My other issue with Mr. Federer was that I was flunking his World History class. Not only did it mean I wouldn’t graduate, I would also have to attend summer school if I wanted my diploma. 

But I had a plan, a bit of a bargain that I hoped to strike with Mr. Federer. If he gave me a passing grade—all I needed was a D in his class—I would suck his big dick. 

I know what you’re thinking—no straight guy is going to give up his cock to a gay dude that easily. But Federer the Predator was no average straight guy. He was a male whore who lived for sex, wanting to get his big dick in a warm hole as often as possible. It doesn’t take much to lure a guy like him to the dark side. 

And so I approached Mr. Federer after school, just as he was starting to erase his whiteboard, preparing to leave for the day. He gave me an exasperated look as I entered his classroom and closed the door behind me.

“Braxton, if you’re here to complain about your grade,” he sneered, “I don’t want to hear it.”

“But I’m at risk of not graduating if you don’t pass me,” I explained. “Can’t you give me some extra credit?”

“Read your syllabus,” he snapped. “I don’t give out extra credit.”

“What if—what if I sucked your dick?” I offered, seeing no need to beat around the bush.

“Suck my dick?” he gasped, taken aback.

“Yeah,” I doubled down. “The rumor around school is that you have no problem having sex with students—female students, that is.”

“Is that what you’ve heard?” he laughed, a devious look upon his face. “Well I’ve heard rumors about you, too, Braxton.”

“I doubt—“

“Coach Nichols told me he busted you doing a bit of sword swallowing under the bleachers during lunch,” Mr. Federer accused. “He apparently witnessed you taking Tayvon Washington’s big one to the balls.”

“Yeah, I took Tayvon to the balls,” I admitted. “His cock is the size of my arm.”

“Impressive,” Mr. Federer replied, an eyebrow raised. “I must say I’m intrigued by your—uh—skill.”

“Let me suck you,” I begged. “If you’ll just—“

“Shut the fuck up and lock that door,” he cut me off, unzipping his fly. “We need to make this quick. We’ve got maybe ten minutes before the janitor comes through here to collect trash.”

Obediently, I raced to the door and locked the deadbolt. Turning around, my jaw nearly dropped as I witnessed Mr. Federer stripping off his clothes, perching himself at the edge of his desk, his naked body on full display, his big cock hanging between his legs. Jesus, he was fucking hot.

“Like what you see?” he taunted, gripping his hard nine-incher in one fist, slapping it against his open palm. “I’ve got a three-day load in these balls for you.”

Like a famished cocksucker, I dropped to my knees before Mr. Federer. With my hands resting on his knees, I went in for the kill. 

“Oh my god,” he marveled, staring down at his big cock as it disappeared down my throat, his balls mashed against my chin. “The rumors about you are true.”

“Fuck, you’ve got a big one,” I exclaimed, coming up for air, a strand of saliva stringing from my lips to his cock. 

“Glad you like it,” he winked, slapping it against my cheek. “Now suck this big fuckin’ dick.”

Locking my lips around his girthy shaft, I began to bob up and down on that big tool, my tongue coating every inch, balls to tip, as Mr. Federer moaned in response. His hands moved to the back of my head, caressing my hair at the nape of my neck. 

“Fuuuuck, you can suck a dick,” he exhaled. “No bitch has ever sucked me this good.”

I was just getting started. Reaching around and gripping his meaty ass in my hands, I pulled him into me, joining us together like Siamese twins connected at his cock. Sucking him ravenously, his fat cock head abused my tonsils, his balls slapped my chin. My neck worked like a piston, rapidly moving up and down his shaft, working out that nut, milking his balls dry. 

“How the fuck are you doing that?” he marveled as I went to town on that big cock, my mouth transforming into the best pussy he’d ever had. Removing my hands from his ass, I massaged his balls as he leaned back further on the desk, his ass slightly raised, his furry hole exposed. 

And then I went for it. Coming up for a quick breath, I licked my index finger and shoved it up his ass. His legs went stiff, reacting to the sudden invasion, but he didn’t stop me. He welcomed the ass play like the dirty straight boy I suspected him to be. Returning to his cock, I sucked him while probing for his prostate.

“HOLY FUCK,” he gasped, when I found that knobby cum button buried inside him. With the same pace, I continued to suck him as I applied steady, rhythmic pressure to his prostate. In response, his cock grew impossibly hard—ready to cut diamonds. 

“Fuuuck,” he moaned while I sucked his big dick and finger fucked his furry hole simultaneously. His balls began to tighten, hugging his body. The dam was about to burst.

“Oh SHIT—If you keep doing that,” he cried, “I’m gonna—I’m gonna—OH FUCK—YEAH—SHIT.”

A massive load filled my mouth as his cock throbbed over and over again, his sphincter gripping my finger in perfect synch with his pulsing cock. I strained to swallow all of his load, that creamy elixir coating my tongue, flying down my throat. Mr. Federer grabbed my head, holding on for dear life as his body convulsed in euphoric ecstasy.

When the throbbing ceased, when his balls were emptied, I released Mr. Federer’s cock, extracting my finger from his ass at the same time. He fell back on the desk, bracing himself just before his head smacked against the hard surface.

“Jesus Christ, you can suck a dick,” he exhaled, finally catching his breath. Sitting up, he smiled at me, his cum and saliva smeared across my mouth and chin. “That was not only the best dick suck I’ve ever had—it was quite possible the best orgasm I’ve ever experienced. Fuck, dude.”

“Thanks,” I smiled bashfully. “I’m glad you liked it. Does this mean you’ll give me a passing grade in your class?”

Mr. Federer sat upright, his hairy legs hanging off the edge of the desk, a drop of cum dangling from his spent cock. Cocking his head, he looked at me quizzically.

“I never said I’d pass you, Braxton,” he finally spoke. 

“But—but I just sucked you off,” I protested. 

“So what?” he laughed. “You sucked me off because you wanted this big cock—wanted to suck down my load. You got what you came for.”

“Yeah,” I acknowledged. “But I also sucked your dick so you’d give me a good grade.”

“I don’t give out good grades for sexual favors,” he smirked. “Shit, half the bitches in this school would have straight A’s if that was the case.”

“But if I don’t pass your class, I won’t graduate,” I pleaded. “I’m gonna have to go to summer school.”

“Fine by me,” Mr. Federer laughed. “I’m teaching summer school. And you’re the only student needing to repeat my World History class, so it’ll just be you and me all summer.”

“It will?”

“Yeah,” he smiled deviously. “So I’d suggest you invest in a good pair of knee pads. You’re gonna need them.”

Stories are fiction and intended for readers 18 and up. All characters are assumed to be legal, consenting adults.

The city park was a short walk from our house. We had started taking our young daughter there every Saturday morning once she was old enough to climb the stairs to the slide and swing on the swing set. That’s when I first saw him.

I was on one of the benches facing the playground, my wife helping my daughter to master a low set of monkey bars. He was running laps on the track that circled the entire park, sweat darkening the back of his shirt and the cleft between his pecs. His short, green running shorts hugged his sculpted ass, as if they were painted on him. 

He stopped just shy of my bench, stretching his legs at one of those calisthenics stations that nobody uses. With one leg propped up, hands reaching for his toes, his junk barely contained in those shorts, he looked at me. No, he didn’t just look at me—he looked at me.

I knew that look. I first discovered it during my freshman year of college. I had spent three hours at a bar, fake ID in hand, downing beer after beer, trying to get laid, watching bitch after bitch leave with some other guy. 

Walking back to my dorm after midnight, my balls aching, precum soaking my boxer briefs thanks to my permanent semi-chubby, I encountered a swishy-looking guy at a crosswalk near campus. He gave me the look.

Five minutes later, my big cock was buried in his tight ass in the dark alley behind a dry cleaners. With his hands braced against a brick wall, I fucked him from behind, shooting my load up his ass in under two minutes. And that’s all he wanted. Just my cock. Just my load. 

Christ, was it really that easy? It was. 

Gay dudes seemed to come out of the woodwork for me at that point. Had I not noticed them before? I developed a penchant for twinks, skinny and almost feminine enough for me to dupe myself into thinking I was fucking some slutty bitch. 

And those twinks loved me. My big cock was certainly a plus. But with my beefy build and hairy body, I looked to be 25 or 30 when I was only 18. One guy even called me daddy while I seeded him, though we were the same age. My look worked for me, allowing me to score some twink ass just as easily as ordering a pizza. 

But I gave up those twinks and their easy holes when I met my wife after college. She loved my big cock at first. Couldn’t get enough of it—until she gave birth. Jesus, they should really warn guys before marriage that it all ends at some point. That you just end up jacking yourself to phone porn in the bathroom, the volume turned low, while your wife snores in bed. 

Despite my depraved past, it hadn’t occurred to me that a married man always has other options. It’s a vice as old as time. And yet the thought of finding another available hole for my cock escaped me—until I saw the hot runner in the park. And that look—that beautiful, fucking look—told me he wanted me as much as I wanted him. I had to have him. But how?

I couldn’t approach the runner. It was impossible. What—with my wife sitting by my side or, at most, 30 feet away on the playground with my daughter? And how could I possibly justify chatting up a 20-year-old kid who, to the casual observer, had nothing in common with me? 

So I had to be patient, watching his hot body run around and around that fucking park. His eyes would lock on mine each time he passed, his chiseled ass begging to be defiled, my balls aching to seed him. 

Our covert glances went on every Saturday for weeks. It became an obsession. Yet my wife was always there, always cock blocking me, always coming to sit by me on the bench just when there was maybe a chance to talk to the guy. But good things come to those who wait. The stars aligned.

“You’re a lucky man,” the runner finally spoke one Saturday, nodding towards my wife and daughter over at the red twisty slide as he crouched by my bench, pretending to tie his shoes. “You’ve got a beautiful family.”

“You can have them,” I laughed in jest—a silly, overused dad joke.

“Nah,” he smiled as he stood up, his eyes locking on my ample crotch. “But I do see something else that I’d like to have.”

As if on cue, my daughter came running to me, a dandelion in her hand, its wispy spores scattering in the wind like my hopes of fucking the runner.  Damn it to hell. Spooked, he sprinted back onto the running trail, tossing a furtive glance back at me. My situation seemed hopeless. I was wrong. 

Within a few minutes, the runner had looped back to me. By that time, my wife and daughter were on the swings. Crouching down to adjust his laces again, he spoke to me once more.

“Meet me in the last stall of the men’s room over at the recreation center,” he whispered, gesturing to the utilitarian building on the other side of the park. “I’ll be prepped and ready for you.”

Christ, my cock stirred. I nodded my acceptance to his offer almost imperceptibly, my eyes locked on his, a devious smile spreading across his face. He sprinted away once more, heading toward our rendezvous. Game on.

“I’m going to hit the men’s room,” I approached my wife and daughter at the swings.

“Oh—can you take Bella with you?” my wife suggested. “I’m sure she needs to tinkle after that juice box on the way here.”

Cock blocked again. Fuck my life.

“I—uh—I better go alone,” I demurred, grasping my stomach, feigning abdominal distress. “I might be a little while in there.”

Making a quick getaway, I jogged to the men’s room, my cock swelling along with my anticipation of dumping a load in the hot runner.  I prayed that the men’s room would be deserted—that there wouldn’t be some old geezer emptying his bladder for ten minutes at the urinal or, worse, some dude taking a stinky dump in the toilet stall next to ours. My prayers were answered. 

Slipping into the empty men’s room, I heard the door to the last stall unlatch as the hot runner peered out at me, opening the stall door wide enough for me to join him. His green shorts were around his ankles. An open bottle of lube rested on the handicapped bar. 

With his hands braced against the tile wall behind the toilet, he bent forward and presented his cunt to me. It was ready to go, the swirls of downy fur rimming his hole were wet and matted—begging for my cock.

“Just shove it in me,” he ordered as I unzipped, freeing my rock hard eight-incher, my precum dripping like a faucet. “I’m so fucking horny.”

“Fuuuck,” I exhaled, pushing into him, my hands going to his shoulders.

“Damn, you’re thick,” he marveled, tensing ever so slightly, his sphincter gripping my cock at the base as I began some deep strokes. “I don’t want us to get busted, so try to be quick, okay?”

“I’m not gonna last long in this tight hole,” I assured him, which was the truth. I had forgotten how much better ass felt compared to pussy. “Fuck, you’ve got a sweet cunt.”

“Thanks,” he exhaled, grinding against me, my pubes and balls mashed against his furry hole. “Now fuck me—hard.”

Dutifully, I complied, moving my hands to his hips as I began to pummel his boy pussy at a breakneck pace. It’s a good thing the men’s room was empty, as I was grunting hard with each thrust. I raised my t-shirt, holding it under my chin as I watched my hairy belly smacking against his chiseled ass.

“That’s it—fuck me, daddy,” he moaned his hips moving in unison with my rhythmic thrusts, my big dick routing his depths. “Your big cock feels so good inside me.”

“I’m getting close,” I warned, my balls hugging my body, the cum rising in my shaft—a geyser ready to release. “You ready for my load?”

“Yes, daddy,” he pleaded. “Breed me—seed my fucking hole.”

“FUCK,” I grunted, my cock throbbing uncontrollably as I unleashed a five-day load into his void. His sphincter gripped me, milking me dry. 

“Mmm yeah,” he cooed. “Your cum is so warm inside me.”

“Shit, that was good,” I exhaled, pulling out of him quickly once my balls were emptied, my cock glistening with lube and cum. “We need to do this every Saturday.”

“I wish we could,” he sighed, ripping a length of toilet paper off the roll and wiping his used, cummy hole with it. “I just broke up with my boyfriend and have to move back in with my parents—later today, in fact. They live an hour away, so I’m not going to be running here anymore. That’s why I approached you today. I couldn’t leave without getting a chance to finally feel your cock inside me.”

“I can’t believe this,” I lamented, crestfallen, stuffing my wet cock back into my shorts. “Isn’t there somewhere closer where you could live?”

“Not really,” he shrugged. “I’m a college student, and the rent around here is too high for me to afford a place on my own.”

It felt like my world was crumbling around me. Sure, I could always find another easy piece of ass—another twink looking to get dominated by a beefy, big-dicked daddy like me. But the heart—or cock, as it may be—wants what it wants, and I wanted the runner. There had to be a solution. And then it came to me.

“Follow me,” I gestured as he pulled up his shorts over his used ass. I unlatched the stall door and led him out of the men’s room, a confused look upon his face. 

We had to talk to my wife. God help me.

“Hey, babe,” I approached her at the park bench overlooking the playground, my daughter still on the swing set. “You remember how we talked about renting out the room over the garage some day?”

“Yeah—I guess,” she answered with trepidation. 

“Well, I just found our new tenant,” I beamed, slapping the hot runner on the back. “He’s moving in today.”

Stories are fiction and intended for readers 18 and up. All characters are assumed to be legal, consenting adults.

Admittedly, I had been staring unabashedly. He and his two kids were at the resort pool all morning, laughing and splashing about. Breeders always turn me on, and this breeder was really doing it for me—the muscles, the beard, the hairy chest, the way his cock shifted in his speedo when he walked around the pool deck. A total DILF. 

I didn’t see his wife around, which only emboldened me all the more. But as soon as the kids ran off to the three-story pool slide, he called me out for staring at him. I was mortified. 

“I’m so sorry,” I stammered, red in the face. “I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s—it’s okay,” he put up his hand to stop me. “I’m sure you didn’t mean to be rude. I’m just in a pissy mood today, and every little thing is setting me off.”

“We’ve all been there,” I sympathized. “I can watch your kids for a little while, if you just need a breather. I have two nephews, so I know what it’s like.”

“No, it’s not that,” he refused. “But maybe you can go upstairs and tell my wife to put down her fucking work laptop and join her family on our family vacation.”

“That—that sucks,” I sympathized. “It sounds like your needs aren’t being met.” I was laying it on thick.

“That’s a fucking understatement,” he laughed, not missing the subtext as he adjusted his speedo. 

“What’s your deal?” he asked directly, locking eyes on me. “You on vacation here, too?”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “Well, it was supposed to be a romantic getaway with my boyfriend, but we broke up last week. I’d already paid for everything, so here I am—alone.”

“His loss,” he sympathized, eyeing me up and down. “Take my advice and get yourself laid while you’re here. You’ll be over him in no time if you can get yourself some dick.”

That was indeed my goal. And maybe this hot DILF could help me out with that? There was only one way to find out. 

“Umm—this might sound forward,” I began, my heart pounding in my chest, “but would you maybe want to join me for a friendly drink at the bar later tonight? I mean, if your wife is still busy.”

“This might be forward,” he replied, “but wouldn’t you rather I just dropped by your room tonight and fucked you?”

Speechless, my jaw flew open. Had this hot married DILF actually propositioned me? I mean, I was certainly leading him in that direction, but DAMN. 

“What’s your room number?” he asked, eyeing his kids on the slide. 

“528,” I replied eagerly. 

“Okay,” he nodded. “Here’s how this is gonna go down. Give me your key card, so I can get into your room quietly tonight. They’ll give you another one at the front desk.”

“Uh—okay,” I agreed, fishing my key card out of my swim trunks and handing it over to him. 

“Now At 11 pm,” he further detailed, “I want you ass up on your bed, your hole prepped and ready. I do not wear condoms, so don’t bother putting one out for me. I’ll slip into your room, pound my nut in you, and then bolt. That work?”

“Yeah,” I nodded, dumbstruck by his authority. 

“Now get the fuck away from me,” he ordered, “I see my kids returning. And don’t say another fucking word or even look at me if you see me around today, okay? Play your cards right, and you’ll get this big cock tonight.”

We parted ways, and I went up to my room. I avoided the pool the rest of the day, too afraid I might run into him with his family and fuck things up. The hours couldn’t pass fast enough until 11 pm. 

At five minutes to the designated hour, freshly showered, my hole prepped and ready for him, I took my place on all fours at the edge the bed and waited. At exactly 11 pm, I heard the key card engaging the lock to my door. 

“Fuck yeah,” the DILF growled, finding me upon the bed. “I got a big load in these balls for you.”

Turning my head to look back at him, I watched as he pulled off his t-shirt and yanked off his shorts, tossing them on the floor. His big, floppy cock began to expand rapidly. Stepping up to the plate, he began to rub his hard cock up and down my wet hole, teasing me. 

“You thought you were so clever this morning, stalking me by the pool, hoping to get my cock,” he sneered as he continued to tease my hole. “But I was one step ahead of you.”

He paused, then slowly began to push his fat cock head against my hole, barely breaching the soft, pink folds of my sphincter. And then came his confession. 

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned after ten years of marriage,” he began, “it’s that my best chance of getting my big dick wet on vacation is to find some eager cock slut like you. That’s why I wear the skimpy speedo—it’s like catnip to you horny gay dudes. As soon as I saw you salivating over me by the pool this morning, I knew I was going to have my big cock in you tonight.” 

He paused again, his fat cock head slowly pushing inward, just beginning to stretch me. He had brought me to that slight moment of discomfort for a bottom, just before the fun begins. 

“And now that I’ve got you where I want you, totally at my mercy,” he hissed in my ear, “I’m gonna fuck the living shit out of you.”

“FUCK,” I cried out as he rammed into me with a violent thrust, my hole split in two. He gave me no time to adjust, no chance to take a deep breath as he opened me. He was already pounding me at a ridiculous pace, the headboard banging against the wall. 

“FUCK,” I cried out again. 

“Yeah, bitch,” he barked, his balls smacking my ass. “Scream your fuckin’ head off. It’ll only make me pound your cunt harder.”

Harder? Was that even possible?

The DILF had released a torrent of rage on my ass. This was clearly a man who wasn’t getting what he needed at home, so he was taking it out on my ass angrily. And the fucked up part? The fucked up part was that I was loving it. 

“Yeah, take this big cock, bitch,” he grunted in my ear. Over and over, he slammed into me, his cock drilling into me deeper and deeper. “Yeah, open that pussy wider for me.”

I don’t know if it was the incredible girth of his thick shaft, or the unrelenting pounding that he was delivering, but he was getting me good. Really good. My cock was responding in turn, rigid with a string of precum dangling from the tip in a swinging free fall. 

Though neither of us had touched my cock, I was about to shoot. There was no stopping it. 

“I’m—I’m gonna bust,” I announced urgently. 

“The fuck I care?” he scoffed, his hands on my hips as he proceeded to assault my hole. “Shoot if you gotta shoot.”

And so I did, all over the bed. “FUCK,” I screamed as my load sprayed out from me, his big cock still buried in me, his pace steady. The duality of the moment was overwhelming. It was for him, too. 

“Shit, dude. I can feel you cumming,” he marveled as my sphincter gripped and pulsed around his cock throughout my orgasm. I was milking his cock from within, all while busting my own nut. It was what I needed to get him there. 

“I’m getting close,” he announced, his breathing quickening, his swelling cock driving into me over and over. “Get ready for it. I’m gonna—I’m gonna—FUCK—FUCK.”

A torrent of cum released in me, his big dick throbbing in my depths. My legs gave out as he collapsed upon me on the bed, our sweaty bodies fused. His breath was at my ear, almost tender, as his balls gave out the last of him. 

“Christ, I needed that,” he announced while pushing himself off of me, extracting his cock from my depths. His massive load, pearly and viscous, gushed from my gaping hole.

“Shit, I really made a mess of you,” he laughed, reaching for his clothes. 

“You sure you don’t want a shower?” I offered as he pulled on his shorts, stuffing his big wet cock into them. “You shouldn’t go back to your wife smelling of sex.”

“Smelling of sex?” he scoffed, yanking on his shirt. “I doubt that bitch can even remember what sex smells like.”

He turned to leave. The deed done. His mission accomplished. 

“Oh—uh—thanks for—uh—taking it up the ass for me,” he expressed his gratuity awkwardly as he reached for the door. “And remember, you don’t say shit to me if you see me around.”

And then he was gone, his warm load dripping down my leg as I ambled to the shower on weak legs. He had fucked the living shit out of me, as promised, and I had loved every minute of it. 

They were at the breakfast buffet the next morning—his whole family, including the wife. She was pretty, but gave off a frigid bitch vibe. I made a point to take a table on the opposite side of the restaurant. I was too afraid I might find myself staring at him again, thinking about him breeding me the night before, his load still swimming in my bowels.

I had made a second trip to the waffle station, when I felt someone behind me, hot breath at my ear. Instantly, I froze.

“My wife is taking the kids to feed the dolphins this morning,” the DILF whispered, coffee on his breath. “I want your ass on your bed and ready for me again in thirty minutes. I still have your key.”

Stories are fiction and intended for readers 18 and up. All characters are assumed to be legal, consenting adults.

Now that my older brother Kyle and I were both in college, my parents decided to downsize and had put our childhood home up for sale. Kyle and I came home for a weekend to clean out some of our old stuff. Mom and Dad were out for a short while to pick up boxes and packing supplies when Kyle began to reminisce about the bathtub.

“Let’s fill it up and get in,” Kyle said, “for old time’s sake—with lots of bubbles, just like when we were kids.”

As I filled the tub, Kyle stripped off his clothes. I hadn’t seen his cock in a long time. Fuck. It was full and meaty, resting on a big set of balls. Kyle’s dick looked a lot like my dad’s cock, from the few times I caught Dad coming out of the shower in my youth. My cock was nothing to be ashamed of in comparison, but lacked the heft of Kyle’s thick, ample dick. I tried not to stare, but Kyle caught me and gave me a wink.

“Last one in sucks eggs,” Kyle joked as he slipped under the water’s surface. I laughed thinking of how I wanted to suck something else in the tub, and quickly joined him in the warm bath. We could barely fit. Kyle rested his back at one end, while I took the opposite end. The only thing we could do with our long legs was to stretch them out and rest a leg on each other’s shoulder.

We luxuriated in the warm water and fondly reminisced about old games of pirates and sea monsters that we had once played in that tub. At some point, Kyle began to absentmindedly stroke my foot that was propped near his shoulder. There was something seductive about his touch. Our eyes met and he gave me a knowing nod as my hand slipped under the water and found his big cock. He was hard, and it felt massive in my hand.

“Christ, that feels good,” Kyle moaned as I jacked his cock in the warm water. “You want me to jack you, too?” he asked as his hand began to slide under the water. I shook my head as I raised myself slightly, turned my back to Kyle, and got on my knees. Kyle began to question what I was doing before he stopped himself, realizing that I was presenting my ass to him.

“Fuck. Are you sure you want this?” Kyle asked while fingering my soapy hole, readying it for him. I nodded as he got up on his knees with his cock level to my ass. I could feel his huge cockhead splitting my hole as he worked his big dick into me.

“Fuckin-A, this feels good,” he moaned. With his cock deep inside me, Kyle then leaned forward and wrapped his arms around me while he pumped my ass. Damn, it felt amazing to finally have my big brother’s cock inside me. Kyle picked up his pace, and soon the warm water around us was splashing out of the tub as he pummeled my hole.

“Aww, FUCK,” Kyle cried out suddenly. “Aww, SHIT—I’m gonna cum—I’m gonna shoot in your tight hole—DAMN!” Instantly, I could feel Kyle’s load blasting inside me, flooding my guts with his warm load.

“Damn, I’ve wanted that for a long time,” Kyle uttered as he pulled out of me, his cum streaming out of my ass and dispersing in the soapy water. We then each slumped back to our opposite ends of the tub as we tried to catch our breath. Just then, we heard footsteps upon the stairs. Fuck.

“Are you boys up there?” Mom’s voice called to us. “Dad and I are back from our errands.”

Before either of us could react, the bathroom door creaked open. Shit. Kyle and I froze in terror as Mom stood before us.

“Frank?” she called out to our dad urgently. “Frank—you need to get up here right now.” The fear building within Kyle and me was palpable.

“Gosh, don’t you two look so cute in that old tub,” Mom then smiled. “My two precious babies having a bath together again!”

Mom then pulled out her phone to take a picture. “Now don’t worry, boys. I won’t post this on Facebook,” she assured us. “It’s just for me to remember this special moment forever.”

Relieved, I gave Kyle’s big cock a playful tug under the surface of the sudsy water, asking Mom to text me a copy of the pic so I could also remember the special moment forever.

Just then, Dad reached the bathroom door, a look of disgust upon his face. “Get out of that fuckin’ tub,” he barked. “You boys are too old to be doing that kinda shit.”

If only Dad knew the truth. Maybe he did.

Stories are fiction and intended for readers 18 and up. All characters are assumed to be legal, consenting adults.

“Score any pussy yet?” I inquired, entering his room with a towel around my waist.

“You think I’d still be sitting here?” he snapped back. “Jesus Christ. What does it take for a guy to get his dick wet on a Saturday night?”

“Nah—I won’t tell nobody,” I assured him. “Now get that big dick in me.”

Earlier in the day, I had spent three hours sucking cock at my favorite glory hole in the basement men’s room of the campus science library. I had drained seven students, three professors, a janitor, a campus security officer, and a dad on a school tour with his kid. 

I had just swallowed the load of a hairy humanities professor with a beer can cock, when an absurdly hot frat boy sidled into the stall next to mine. Score. 

Through the glory hole, I could see the Greek letters ΦΥK emblazoned in large print on his t-shirt. He hesitated, and then bent down to peer at me through the hole. 

“Just stick your dick through,” I directed, rolling my eyes. Frat guys can be particularly clueless at a glory hole. “Stick it in, and I’ll suck you off.”

“Can—can I talk to you first?” he whispered back through the hole. 

“Yeah, but make it quick,” I snapped. “This isn’t a fucking confessional.”

“Right,” he laughed. “I want you to suck me—but not here. Is that cool?”

“What’s wrong with here?”

“I dunno,” he shrugged. “This bathroom is nasty as fuck, and I’d rather be comfortable when getting sucked.”

“Fine,” I acquiesced. “You know another discreet place? I’m not gonna suck you in your car. I’m on probation after getting caught blowing a biology TA in his Hyundai a month ago.”

“No—not my car. I want you to come suck me at my house. It’s on fraternity row, over by—“

“Wait,” I stopped him. “You want me to suck you off at your frat house?”

“Yeah—is that okay?”

“Fuck yeah,” I exclaimed, for it had always been a pipe dream to swallow cum in an actual fraternity house. Frat boys often came to my glory hole, but never asked me back to their house. “But wait, this isn’t like a hazing prank or some other shit?”

“Absolutely not,” he promised. “I just need my big dick sucked, and I’ve heard you’re the best cocksucker on campus. So—you game?”

“Fuck yes,” I blurted out. 

“Come by the house tonight—10 pm,” he instructed. “I’m in the Phi house at the end of fraternity row. It’s brick with white columns, you can’t miss it. I’ll be waiting for you.”

And then he slid out just before a dude in a maintenance uniform pushed his fat cock through the partition. As I  sucked a massive load out of the maintenance guy, my mind drifted, fantasizing about sucking cock in a frat house that night. 

At 10 pm on the dot, I knocked on the door of the Phi house. A raucous cacophony of testosterone-laden voices from inside made my stomach lurch in fear, but I was determined to not chicken out. I trusted this guy. That, and I was horny as fuck. 

“You made it, bro,” the hot frat guy from the glory hole beamed as he opened the door. He was shirtless, his hairy, muscular body on full display. The outline of his big cock was apparent through his athletic shorts. I nearly came in my pants. 

“Come inside,” he beckoned as I froze in the doorway, taken aback by a house full of muscular studs who looked just like him—a gay man’s version of The Stepford Wives. 

The house atmosphere was like an Alpha male convention of at least fifty jacked-up frat guys surrounding a keg in the center of a large room, drinking beer from red Solo cups, laughing and high-fiving each other. Loud music filled the room as a contentious game of beer pong was played in one corner. Nobody seemed to be paying any attention to me—the odd man out. 

“You guys having a party?”

“Nah, it’s always like this,” the frat hottie replied. “Just follow me. I’m taking you somewhere a bit more—private.”

He led me to a room in the back of the house, the noise and chaos fading away. It was a small room, only slightly bigger than a closet with a gray couch covered in cum stains opposite a large screen TV with pussy porn playing. A blonde porn bitch was riding a large cock with two more big dicks sword fighting in her mouth. Respect. 

“We call this room the masturbatorium,” he began to explain, closing the door behind us, “because we—”

“Jack off in here?” I surmised. 

“Yup—and sometimes more,” he winked, taking a seat on the couch and directing me to do the same. I did as told, my eyes fixated on the outline of his big cock through his shorts. 

“You ready to suck it?” the frat hottie asked as he thumbed his bulge. “Suck me good, and you’ll get a nice surprise when I’m done.”

Hoping that surprise would be a warm shot of his cum down my throat, I quickly slid off the couch and positioned myself on my knees. Pulling off his athletic shorts, his big cock nearly smacked me in the face. Eight inches, thick and veiny, a drop of precum at the tip, his cock rested atop a set of round, full plums that were aching for release. 

“Yeah, it’s a big one,” he bragged, smacking it against my face. “My girlfriend creams hard on it when she rides me.”

“Why—why do you want me to suck you when you have a girlfriend?” I wondered aloud. “She on the rag or something?”

“Nah, man,” he laughed. “She just won’t suck dick. You ever met a sorority girl who throats cock? Pussy action only with her. So I gotta find dudes like you who will throat my big one when I’m in the mood for some head. Enough chat—let’s see what you can do.”

Showing off a bit, I skillfully swallowed his entire eight inches in one gulp, mashing his balls against my chin. My tongue worked his shaft as I stayed down on it.

“Fuckin-A,” he cried out, his hand on the back of my head. “Now that’s how you suck a dick. Damn, bro.”

Grabbing me by the ears, he held me down on that big cock, his cock head abusing my tonsils as he began to thrust rapidly, his hips convulsing up and down at a rigorous pace. I was gagging on it, red faced, unable to breathe. 

“Yeah, fucking choke on this big dick,” he barked, slapping the side of my face before finally releasing me. Gasping for air, I took one deep breath before he forced me back down on that big cock, pumping my throat like a pocket pussy.

I had never been face fucked so good.

“Damn—you sure can take it, bitch,” he slapped my face again, his meaty hands gripping into my skull, forcing it up and down on his rigid shaft at a breakneck pace. “You gotta mouth pussy on you.”

His balls were hitting my chin hard, saliva running down them, soaking into the couch cushions. I reached up and grabbed his hairy pecs with both hands, attempting to brace myself against his assault against my throat. I’d never seen such stamina in a dude. It couldn’t last.

“You want my cum?” he demanded urgently. “You want me to shoot this fuckin’ load down your throat?”

“Mmpft mmpft,” I nodded, his cock still buried in my gullet. And then I felt it—a swelling in my throat, a slow pulsing that began to increase in frequency.

“FUCK,” he bellowed, his cock erupting down my throat, his warm seed satiating my hungry belly. “Yeah, bitch. Swallow this fuckin’ nut. Yeah—that’s it.”

“Damn, dude,” I gasped when he finally pulled out of me, cool air enriching my oxygen-deprived lungs. “That was the best face fucking I’ve ever had.”

“You took this big dick like a champ, bro,” he winked, his spent cock flopped against his hairy thigh. “I heard you were the best cocksucker on campus, and it was no exaggeration.”

“Thanks,” I blushed, wiping cum and saliva from my chin with the back of my hand. 

“I have just one question for you,” he locked eyes with me. “Are you hungry for more?”

But before I could respond in eager affirmation, amazed that he could already go another round, the door to the room opened abruptly. A beefy, hairy frat guy stood in the doorway, eyeing the sordid remains of my encounter with his frat brother.

“You done with the cocksucker yet?” the beefy one demanded. “The guys are getting restless out here.”

“Yeah, I just fed him. He’s the real deal,” my frat hottie responded, getting up from the couch and pulling on his shorts over his spent cock. “Tell the brothers to queue up for their turn with him.”

“All right guys,” the beefy frat guy yelled down the hall. “Time to line up. You know the drill. One at a time. No cuts. Each brother gets ten minutes to bust down the cocksucker’s throat. Repeats allowed once every guy has had a turn. Got it?”

Flopping down hard on the couch, the beefy frat guy pulled out a big, hairy cock attached to a massive set of bull balls. I immediately began to salivate. 

“What’re you waiting for, cocksucker?” he barked, grabbing me by the back of my head and shoving his big, hairy cock down my throat. “You’ve got fifty-eight impatient brothers out there waiting to feed you some cum, so get to work. It’s gonna be a long night.”

Stories are fiction and intended for readers 18 and up. All characters are assumed to be legal, consenting adults.

“I’m mad at you,” Kayla pouted dramatically as we FaceTimed while 4,000 miles apart, the Eiffel Tower in the background as she sipped a café au lait at a sidewalk café. “You broke your promise.”

Kayla was into her second week of a summer internship at a prestigious French fashion publication. Whereas, my only plans for my summer home from college were going to parties, drinking beer, and jacking off to porn.

“Babe. I swear to you—nothing happened with Brittany,” I insisted, assuming why Kayla was mad. “She totally ambushed me at Jake’s party, posting all those selfies on Insta of us. But nothing happened.”

In truth, Brittany had offered up her easy snatch to me at the party, but I turned her down. Though I desperately needed some pussy, I couldn’t make a move without it getting reported back to Kayla. She had eyes everywhere on me.

“Brittany? Eww—I know you’d never fuck that skank,” Kayla laughed. “She’s so fucking desperate. I’m not at all mad about her Insta posts.”

“Then what are you mad about?”

“I’m mad about Teddy.”

“Teddy—your brother?”

“Yes,” Kayla nodded, taking another sip of coffee. “You promised me that you’d hang out with him this summer, but you haven’t even texted him yet. He has no friends and he’s got nothing to do all day while my parents are at work.”

“Kayla, Teddy is not a child—he’s eighteen years old,” I spat indignantly. “I shouldn’t have to go have a fucking play date with him because he’s not good at making friends. That’s not my problem.”

“Well, it will be your problem when I refuse to suck your dick anymore.”

“Babe,” I pleaded. “Don’t be like that.”

“Just go hang with Teddy, okay?”

“Fine,” I acquiesced. “I’ll go by your house today.”

The truth was, I hated the idea of hanging with Teddy. Having nothing in common, we were polar opposites of each other. I liked watching and playing sports. Teddy liked watching HGTV and making TikTok videos. I lived for pussy. And Teddy, well, Teddy lived for dick. What the fuck was I supposed to do with him?

“What up, bitch?” he greeted me at the door wearing a halter top and a pair of hot pink shorts pilfered from Kayla’s closet, the word JUICY emblazoned across his tight ass.

“Dude. I’ve asked you not to call me bitch.”

“And I’ve asked you not to call me dude.”

“Fair enough,” I agreed, following him inside. “Let’s just try to get along for Kayla’s sake, okay?”

“Fine,” he shrugged. “You want something to drink—a Coke or a beer?”

“I’ll take a beer,” I replied, taking a seat on the living room couch, hoping a mild buzz would take off the edge I always felt around Teddy.

He returned quickly from the kitchen, sashaying like a runway model. Teddy had a Coke for him and a beer for me, poured into a frosty glass.

“Wow,” I exclaimed in jest, taking the beer from him. “This is really full service.”

“I love to provide—service,” Teddy winked.

Ignoring his rather obvious flirtation, I got Teddy talking about his favorite topic, which is any of the Real Housewives series airing on Bravo. I saved the latest Taylor Swift album for backup conversation.

My mind wandered while he prattled on and on, remembering the time I fucked Kayla in the Juicy shorts he was wearing, my cock sliding up the open leg because she didn’t want to undress with her parents downstairs. A glob of my cum had dripped onto the hem of her shorts when I pulled off the condom, which made Kayla mad.

“Are you even listening to me?” Teddy barked, snapping me back to the present.

“I’m—I’m sorry,” I apologized feebly. “I was just thinking about your sister.”

“I can see that,” Teddy stated, eyeing my tented shorts. Thinking about fucking Kayla in her room, her creaming on my big cock with her parents downstairs, had given me a raging boner.

“There’s nothing to see,” I insisted, my hand covering my crotch.

“There’s actually a lot to see,” he licked his lips, his eyes still fixated on my package. “You’re hung like fuck—I’ve seen it.”

“You’ve never seen my dick,” I spat indignantly.

“That’s what you think,” he winked, pulling out his phone, scrolling through at least a dozen dick pics that I’d texted to Kayla. He paused on one photo in particular with my load fanned up my abs after jerking myself off. I had texted the naughty photo to Kayla the night before with the caption: Thinking of you.

“Where the fuck did you get these pics?” I demanded.

“I lifted them from Kayla’s iCloud,” he laughed sadistically. “She never changes her password.”

“Dude. Those pics are private. They were meant for Kayla only. You can’t—”

“I want you to fuck me,” Teddy interrupted.

“The fuck?!”

“I want you to fuck me,” he repeated firmly.

“Dude. I’m not gonna fuck you.”

“It’s not fair—Kayla gets everything,” Teddy declared angrily. “She has a hot, hung boyfriend to fuck her whenever she wants. Whereas, I have to scrounge for cock down at the park, hoping some balding, married guy with a beer belly will grunt his load into me in a dirty men’s room stall.”

“Dude. That’s not my problem,” I spat.

“Stop calling me dude,” he admonished.

“Fine.”

“Look,” Teddy continued, his voice calmer. “We both have a problem. I need some dick, and you need a warm hole. Don’t deny it. I’m sure you’re tired of having to jack yourself off while Kayla is gone.”

I didn’t want to admit it, but Teddy was right. I was already tired of rubbing my dick raw several times a day. Kayla was somewhat of a nympho, her voracious appetite for sex a perfect match for mine. We fucked more than we did anything else together. And with her away for the entire summer, my balls weren’t going to survive.

But could I fuck her little brother? I didn’t want to admit it, but he kind of looked like Kayla in those clothes—the same lithe body, minus her long hair and bouncy breasts. Teddy’s voice and mannerisms were even just like hers. The thought of fucking a guy had never crossed my mind. But this scenario was different. I could fuck Teddy and just pretend that he was Kayla. A warm hole is a warm hole.

“I dunno, Teddy,” I feigned indifference, not yet wanting to show my cards. “Fucking my girlfriend’s little brother is kinda fucked up.”

“Look, I know Kayla’s got you on a tight leash,” Teddy presented his argument. “We both know there’s no way you’re gonna be able to last all summer without some pussy. But as soon as you dump your load in some easy, willing bitch, Kayla’s gonna find out about it.”

“True,” I conceded. “But how is fucking you any different?”

“Because I’m safe—nobody would find out,” Teddy insisted. “Kayla would kill me if she found out I was giving my ass up to you. So you know I’m not gonna tell anyone.”

Teddy had a point. There was security within the shared risk between us. Furthermore, nobody would ever think that I would fuck a dude—especially Kayla’s little brother. And Kayla was the one who insisted that I spend time with her brother. It was the perfect crime. I could get my balls drained, and no one would suspect a thing.

“One last offer to sweeten the deal,” Teddy interrupted my train of thought. “You can fuck me raw and shoot that load up my ass.”

Fucking raw sealed the deal. Kayla never let me raw dog her, always scared of getting knocked up. This was my chance to finally enjoy the satisfaction of fucking without a latex noose choking my thick shaft, the reservoir tip catching my cum.

“Fuck it—let’s do it,” I announced, standing up, eager to get the deed done. “You want to bend over the couch? Or I could fuck you up against that wall?”

“How about my bed?” Teddy offered, grabbing me by the hand and leading me up the stairs. His hand felt just like Kayla’s when in mine. I wondered if his cunt would feel just like hers. I would soon find out.

“I want you to fuck me from behind, at the edge of the bed,” Teddy instructed as we stripped down in his room, a butterfly quilt hung over his bed. “You’ll be able to go really deep that way.”

I took in his hairless body, his pubes shaved just like Kayla’s. I imagined them sharing the same razor in the shower, a thought that was both sick and arousing at the same time.

Climbing on the bed, Teddy positioned himself on all fours, presenting his pink cunt to me. At least I wouldn’t have to look at his face, deluding myself into thinking I was fucking Kayla. And if I ignored his floppy cock and balls hanging beneath his hole, his cunt didn’t look much different than Kayla’s. In fact it looked better—tighter.

“Jesus, you’re hung,” he marveled, his head turned back towards me, taking in my hard cock as I pulled off my shorts. “It’s even bigger than in those dick pics you sent Kayla. There’s some lube there on the dresser. I’m gonna need a lot of it to get that big thing in me.”

Grabbing the lube, I greased up my cock, sliding it in and out of my fist. My emotions were mixed. I wanted to fuck Teddy, but also wanted to beat the shit out of him. And so, I decided to combine the two. His ass would be destroyed by the time I was done with him.

“Get that big cock in me,” he begged as I stepped up to the edge of the bed, my cock in my fist. Standing behind him, I pushed my big cock head into the pink folds of his anus.

“Fuck, you’re big,” he exhaled, his eyes closed, his sphincter tensing as I pushed my eight-incher all the way into his greedy cunt. “Start slow, okay?” he begged, gripping the bedspread, my balls mashed against his hole.

But I ignored Teddy. He wasn’t my girlfriend. I didn’t need to be romantic and tender. I wasn’t there to make love to him. Teddy was a fuck toy, plain and simple. And I was going to fuck him like one.

“Jesus,” he gasped, the bed shaking violently under him as I jackhammered his quivering cunt. “You’re a fuck machine.”

The term was apt. Mechanically, I fucked him, my big cock a piston as I rammed in and out of his depths at a frenzied pace. It felt so good to fuck with no consideration for the hole I was abusing. In that moment, Teddy meant nothing to me. He was just an inanimate object—an open vessel in which to deposit my seed.

“Cum in me,” he begged. “Shoot that big load in me.”

“Nah,” I lied, my cock routing his depths. “You’re not good enough for my cum. I’m gonna pull out and cum all over your pretty bedspread.”

“No,” he pleaded. “I want to feel your warm load inside me. Please cum up my ass.”

I made no promise as I pushed his face into the mattress, tilting his ass even higher. The angle afforded me unparalleled depth, my big cock probing further into his void. I had never fucked this deep with Kayla or any other bitch.

“FUCK,” Teddy cried, his sphincter gripping me, milking me. “You’re so fucking deep.”

The experience was overwhelming, pressure building in my balls. My shaft began to swell, my cock throbbing. There was no turning back.

“FUCK—SHIT,” I grunted, my load spewing into Teddy’s void, my cock pulsing inside him.

“Holy fuck—I can feel you cumming,” Teddy marveled as I granted his wish, breeding his ass, filling him to the brim with my warm seed.

“Jesus, I needed that,” I exhaled, pulling out of Teddy, my pearly load dripping from his wrecked cunt and down the back of his ballsack. Weak on my legs, I collapsed on my back next to him.

“Mmm—I want a taste,” Teddy declared, rolling over and eyeing my cum-slicked dick. Deftly, he took me into his mouth, licking and sucking my spent cock until it was squeaky clean.

Miraculously, I was still hard. Straddling me, Teddy sat on my cock, taking me balls deep into his used, puffy hole. Riding me hard, cowboy style, Teddy milked another load out of me—and then another.

An hour later, with four loads total drained from my depleted balls, I left Teddy upon his bed, his cunt a pulverized mess. He made me promise to return the next day, but there was really no need for promises. With Kayla gone for the summer, I finally had a worthy substitute for her pussy. And in all honesty, his cunt put hers to shame.

“Teddy told me you stopped by today,” Kayla smiled when she FaceTimed me when I got home. It was late night in Paris, the Eiffel Tower twinkling in the distance. “He said you two really hit it off and had an awesome time.”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “Teddy is a lot of fun. I definitely got to know him on a much deeper level,” I confessed, trying to suppress a laugh. “And he’s so giving. I got the feeling he’d do just about anything for me.”

“That’s fantastic,” Kayla beamed. “Teddy mentioned you’re already getting together again tomorrow. Is that right?”

“Yeah,” I confirmed. “But I was thinking of bringing a few buds with me next time. Maybe Tyler, Brax, and Preston. I think they’d really enjoy tagging—oops, I mean hanging—with Teddy.”

Stories are fiction and intended for readers 18 and up. All characters are assumed to be legal, consenting adults.

Mom then dashed off to the bakery down the street to pick up scones and croissants for our Father’s Day brunch at home. Though Ted wasn’t my real father, we always tried to make him feel just as important as my biological dad on Father’s Day.

“You and your mother always do too much for me,” Ted observed, sipping his coffee after Mom had left. “I told her I don’t need anything.”

“Not even a cigar box made of macaroni?” I joked, referencing a rather unfortunate Father’s Day gift I had once given Ted.

“Or a necktie that plays the Star Wars theme,” Ted laughed, recalling another truly tasteless gift.

“Yikes,” I replied. “That one was a dud.”

“You always meant well,” Ted smiled fondly. “But there was only one gift I really looked forward to every Father’s Day.”

“What was that?” I prompted.

“Shit,” Ted chuckled bashfully, “I probably shouldn’t be telling you this.”

“Tell me what?” I urged.

“Well—” Ted hesitated, placing his mug on the coffee table. “You’re a grown man now, so I guess I can share this with you.”

“Share what?” I practically begged.

“Father’s Day—well—Jesus, I can’t believe I’m telling you this,” he laughed awkwardly. “Father’s Day used to be the only day of the year when your mother would suck my dick.”

“Ugh,” I cringed, trying to not imagine my mom on her knees, slobbering on Ted’s cock, spitting out his salty load into her hand. “I really didn’t need to know that.”

“I’m sorry,” Ted laughed, his face beet red. “But when you get to my age—you begin to miss things like blow jobs, even if it only happened once a year.”

“Wait a minute,” I interjected. “Are you saying Mom doesn’t suck your dick anymore —at all?”

“Yeah,” Ted nodded sheepishly. “She never really liked doing it—most women don’t, you know. And so she just stopped.”

“How long has it been?”

“Since your mom sucked me?” Ted thought on it, rubbing his square jaw. “Shit—probably ten years.”

“You’re saying you haven’t had a blow job in ten years?” I gasped incredulously.

“Well—from your mom—yeah, it’s been about ten years,” Ted affirmed. “But—”

“But?!”

“Jesus—I can’t believe I’m telling you all of this,” Ted rung his hands. “I did get some head about a year ago.”

“What—how—who?” I implored, wanting all the juicy details.

“Well—you remember that Caribbean cruise your mother and I took for our anniversary last year?” Ted asked.

“Yeah—and?”

“And so your mom booked me a massage in the onboard spa,” Ted explained. “And I guess I got hard when the young guy was working near my groin and—well—before I knew it, the dude was sucking my dick.”

“DAMN,” I exclaimed, imagining Ted on a massage table, his muscular body oiled and glistening as some dude sucked him off, swallowing his load. “That’s fucking hot.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Ted grimaced. “I was racked with guilt. I mean, I had cheated on your mom.”

“Cheating is a strong word,” I opined. “That’s the difference between straight guys like you and gay guys like me—a blow job isn’t that big of a deal for me. It’s not much different than a handshake.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t bust my nut from a handshake,” Ted scoffed dismissively.

“But did you like it—the blow job?” I pressed.

“Yeah,” Ted admitted. “It felt really good. Probably the best head I’ve ever had.”

“Then why feel guilty?” I inquired. “Do you feel guilty when you jack off?”

“No,” Ted shook his head. “Not at all.”

“Well, a blow job is no different,” I assured him. “There’s no need to feel guilty. It’s totally natural for a man to—”

“This discussion is a moot point,” Ted cut me off, his hand raised to stop me. “Honestly, I have no plans to let a guy suck me off again.”

“Why not?” I ventured, my hand on Ted’s broad thigh, inching toward his bulging crotch. “I’ll gladly suck your dick.”

“Jesus—no,” he swatted my hand away. “I’m not gonna let my stepson suck me off. That’s fucked up.”

“It’s no more fucked up than getting a dick suck during a massage while on an anniversary cruise with your wife,” I informed him. “Please—let me do this for you. It’s Father’s Day, and you’re long overdue for your annual blow job.”

My hand returned to Ted’s thigh, but this time he didn’t stop me. Rubbing his cock through his tented shorts, I could feel that he was already rock hard—and hung like a motherfucker. Throughout my life, Ted had taken great pains to make sure I never saw him fully naked and, finally, I knew why.

Unzipping his shorts, I was instantly smacked in the face by a thick, nine-incher. “Fuck, you’re hung,” I gasped.

“It’s a big one,” Ted winked. “Now you know why your mother won’t suck it.”

“Well—lucky for you,” I smiled wickedly, grasping Ted’s big cock by the base, “I have extensive experience sucking big dicks.”

And then I dove in, taking the entirety of Ted’s big cock down my throat like a professional cocksucker. His bulbous cock head slid past my tonsils, his hairy balls pressed against my chin.

“Fuuuuck,” Ted exhaled, his head tipping back. “You certainly know how to suck a dick.”

But I was just getting started. Releasing his cock from my mouth, I licked down his shaft and took his full balls in my mouth. Licking and sucking those round, ripe plums, I churned his seed.

“That’s it—suck my balls,” Ted nodded, his meaty hand caressing the back of my head. “You’ll get a big load out of me that way.”

After polishing his jewels until his toes were curling, I returned my attention to Ted’s cock. He was raging hard, leaking precum down his shaft. Lapping up that salty goodness, I then swallowed his cock whole again.

“Yeah—suck my dick,” Ted ordered, propping his muscular arms behind his head as he looked down at me gobbling on his big one. “Suck my big—fucking—cock.”

Dutifully, I worked that big dick with all my talents, my head bobbing up and down on it, my tongue working his veiny shaft with each stroke. Ted grabbed my head and began to thrust down my throat, his cock abusing my tonsils.

“Fuck, that’s good,” Ted growled, red faced, sweat beading on his brow. I reached below and could feel that his low-hangers had begun to hug his body. “Jesus, I’m getting close.”

Ravenously, I sucked him, increasing my rhythm and pressure. I wanted his load so bad, I could practically taste it. I was about to get my wish.

“That’s it—don’t stop,” Ted commanded. “Keep going and you’re gonna—you’re gonna—Oh FUCK—Here it comes—SHIT.”

Ted’s body quaked, his big cock discharging in my mouth, his warm seed spraying down my throat. He held my head down on it, ensuring that I didn’t miss a single drop of his copious load.

“Fuck, I needed that,” he exhaled upon releasing me, one last drop of his pearly cum escaping his cock slit. Eagerly, I lapped it up.

“Happy Father’s Day,” I smiled, leaning into him, our lips meeting, his tongue tasting the last of his seed on my lips.

“I can’t thank you enough,” Ted beamed, his big dick flopped against his meaty thigh. “I don’t think I’ve ever—”

But before he could finish his thought, we heard mom’s key in the door. Stuffing his spent cock back into his shorts, Ted motioned to some saliva on my chin. I deftly wiped it up with the back of my hand as Mom entered the room, a bakery box in hand.

“Is it too hot in here? Should we turn the thermostat down?” Mom asked, appraising Ted. “You look sweaty.”

“It’s—uh—it’s just the hot coffee,” Ted thought quickly, gesturing to our mugs on the coffee table.

Mom kissed us each on the cheek before disappearing into the kitchen to set out the baked goods on a platter, her heels clicking away with each step.

“Whew,” Ted exhaled. “That was close.”

“Shit—you’re telling me,” I laughed conspiratorially. “I thought we were busted.”

“So this—this blow job thing we’ve started,” Ted began tentatively. “It’s not going to be only on Father’s Day, is it?”

“What? Are you saying you’d like me to suck you off more than once a year?” I teased.

“Yeah,” Ted winked. “I was thinking you could drain my balls maybe a couple times a week?”

“I think that can be arranged,” I smiled deviously. “And maybe—just maybe—you might want to give my tight ass a try. I’m known to be a power bottom.”

“Christ, that sounds fucking hot,” Ted marveled, covertly covering his tented shorts with his meaty hand as mom returned with the platter of baked goods and a coffee carafe.

“Happy Father’s Day, Ted,” my mom repeated for the umpteenth time that morning while placing the platter and carafe on the coffee table. “I hope you know how much we love you.”

“Oh—I think I know,” Ted smiled, giving me a furtive wink. His wheels were turning, wondering how soon he could get mom out of the house—and his big dick in me.

Stories are fiction and intended for readers 18 and up. All characters are assumed to be legal, consenting adults.

“Jesus,” I gasped, mortified, blood draining from my face. “You heard us? Way on the other side of the apartment?”

“I think the whole building woke up to you screaming your head off,” Adam laughed. “You really know how to take a cock.”

“Uh—thanks,” I replied tepidly. 

“The only question now,” Adam turned to me, placing his mug on the table and adjusting his rapidly expanding crotch, “is whether or not you can handle my big cock?”

My boyfriend Chris had warned me this would happen—that Adam, his beloved father, would try to fuck me. I knew it was coming. And with Chris at work, leaving me home alone with his predator dad, the time had arrived. 

“He fucked all my old boyfriends,” Chris confided in me before his dad arrived to stay with us for a few days. “I brought my college boyfriend home after our first semester, and caught Dad fucking him in the shower. And Dad and my last boyfriend had been fucking on the side for six months before I found out about it.”

“That’s—that’s terrible,” I sympathized. “But I don’t understand. Your dad is married, and your stepmom is hot as fuck—practically our age with blonde hair and big tits, a total trophy wife.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Chris shrugged. “Dad is a sex addict, needing to dip his stick regularly. And he’s totally indiscriminate, fucking anything he can find. Sadly, he sees no problem with playing in my playground—fucking all my old boyfriends and most of my buddies.”

“Well, that stops with me,” I assured Chris. I was resolved to not perpetuate the sick dynamic that had developed between Chris and his dad. Adam was not going to fuck me. Or at least that’s what I believed—until Adam arrived. 

The man exuded sex appeal. Attractive, muscular, hairy, bearded, smoldering eyes, and an amply bulging crotch. He was the spitting image of the man I conjured in my mind during my pubescent days, spanking my monkey on my twin bed, shooting my wad into an old sock.

Chris cooked dinner for us the night Adam arrived, his dad charming and attentive throughout the meal. “I like this one,” Adam gestured to me, a glass of Cabernet sloshing in his hand. “He’s a keeper, Chris.”

“Yeah, that means he wants to fuck you,” Chris whispered in my ear. 

It wasn’t my idea for Chris to fuck me the next morning before he left for work. I was worried the walls were thin, and didn’t like the idea of his dad hearing us. But as Chris fucked me hard—both of us louder than usual—I realized what was happening. Chris was marking his territory, establishing his dominance. My ass belonged to Chris—and not his father. Well, that’s what Chris wanted to believe. 

“Come on,” Adam persisted later that morning with coffee at the kitchen table, Chris at work. “I know you want my cock.”

I was speechless, helpless to resist as Adam stood up. Grabbing my arm in his meaty grip, he led me to the guest room—a spider luring me into his web. 

“I’ve got a two-day load in these balls,” Adam announced, “and you’re gonna work it out of me.”

I was no stranger to the bed of a married man. It wasn’t my first rodeo. I knew my part. Stripping down and tossing my clothes on the floor, I positioned myself on all fours atop the bed. This was to be fucking, pure and simple. 

“Fuck yeah,” Adam growled, his clothes tossed upon mine, his hairy nine-incher erect and searching for an available hole, precum dangling from its engorged tip. “Look at that pretty cunt.”

He dove into it, his tongue probing my hole, still sore from the rigorous fucking Chris had delivered just an hour earlier. His tongue was relentless, digging into my fuck canal. 

“Push it out,” Adam demanded. 

“Huh?”

“Push out his cum,” he ordered. “I can taste it up in there.”

Bearing down hard, I felt the viscous release of Chris’s cum from my sphincter as Adam lapped it up, tasting his son’s load as it dripped from my hole and down the back of my ballsack. It was so fucked up—but so fucking hot. 

“Won’t need any lube for this wet, cummy hole,” Adam announced wiping the cum and saliva from his face with the back of his hand. “I fucking love plowing my son’s sloppy seconds.”  

Grabbing me by the hips, he thrust into me with no warning. 

“HOLY FUCK,” I screamed, my still-sore hole stretched to the max by his massive girth. 

“Don’t be a pussy,” Adam growled, pounding me over and over. “You know you love it rough. I heard the way Chris fucked you, with you begging for more.”

My knees, still weakened from the prior fucking, gave out from under me. Adam’s weight pushed me flat onto the bed. With his muscular arms on either side of me, he pushed himself into a plank and began to pile drive his big cock into me. Like a piston, his cock routed my depths. Jesus, it felt good.

Never before had I been fucked so expertly. Don’t get me wrong, Chris is great in bed. But his dad—his dad was a whole different animal. A total fuck machine. I had never felt such force, such stamina. My mind began to wander, my eyes rolling back into my head. It was like I was in a trance, my body an inanimate object to be used and abused by this hung, hairy, hunk of a man. 

“You ready for it?” Adam snapped me back to reality, his sweaty body writhing atop me at a frenetic pace, dominating me in the best way possible. “You want my cum in your pussy?”

“Yes,” I moaned, preparing for the ride to end, his cock swelling inside of me. “Fucking seed my hole.”

“FUCK—FUCK,” he growled like a bear, his cock pulsing inside me, shooting his seed into my depths. “Yeah, take my fuckin’ nut.”

I reveled in the warmth of his cum as it spread through my bowels, his big dick still throbbing at a steady pace. He pulled out abruptly, one last shot of jizz coating my ass. 

“Fuck that was good,” he stretched his arms, climbing off the bed. “I need a shower—and a nap. So don’t hang around long, if you get me. I don’t cuddle.”

Climbing off the bed as he disappeared into the bathroom, I wobbled back to my bedroom on weak legs. Crashing into the bed, I fell into a deep sleep. 

“Wake up sleepyhead,” Chris’s voice stirred me from my slumber when he returned home for lunch. Shedding his work clothes, he climbed into bed next to me, holding me in his arms. I could hear the TV on in the next room, Adam watching a replay of a football game, shouting at the referee. 

“How’d it go with my dad this morning? Chris asked softly, rubbing my back. 

“Uh—fine.”

“Did he try to fuck you?”

“No—not at all,” I lied, trying to sound convincing, my voice breaking. 

“Bullshit,” Chris called my bluff, his hand traveling down my back, his fingers probing my used hole, wet with his dad’s fresh load. I was busted.

“Chris,” I pleaded. “I can explain—”

“No need to explain,” Chris smiled deviously, licking his cummy fingers clean. Climbing atop me, his hands pushing my legs apart, he delved his cock into me. “Lucky for you, I fucking love plowing my dad’s sloppy seconds.”

Like father, like son. 

And as Chris fucked me, his body writhing atop me, I looked over his shoulder and saw Adam watching from the doorway. His shorts were unzipped, hard cock in hand, as he waited his turn with me.

Stories are fiction and intended for readers 18 and up. All characters are assumed to be legal, consenting adults.