Graybeards

“Manhattans and Big Appetites” (Avery POV) Start | Previous | Next

“Knock, knock,” dad bellowed after the chime of the opening elevator. “Guess who I ran into in the park?”

I clapped shut my book and lay it down on the cold, black granite of the kitchen island, rising from my LEM bar stool to greet father. He was grinning when I came around the corner to the entryway of my penthouse. Sweat dripped off the flattened hair on his burly forearms, athletic shirt clinging to his broad chest and running shorts snug enough that I had to avert my gaze. However, it was the sight of the man flanking him that made my jaw drop.

“John fucking Lafferty!” Dad announced, turning to John to clap him on the shoulder, “What are the chances?” I was wondering the same thing, as the freshly remembered taste of the silver fox’s potent cum tickled my tastebuds.

“I hope I’m not intruding,” John said with an easy smile in my direction, his own athletic attire hardly damp on his slender body. “David thought we all might enjoy an aperitif and wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

“Of course not,” I forced myself to say. “I was just a bit surprised, but I’ll mix us a few drinks while you two rinse off.”

 “‘Atta boy,” dad said as the two of them advanced into the expansive living room overlooking Central Park, filling the air with the raw testosterone of a man’s exertion. My heart thumped.

“Dad’s predictable, but what’s your poison, John?” I asked, wincing as he squeezed my ass while my father’s back was turned.

“Surprise me.”

I nodded, stepping aside and out of his grasp, “Let’s keep it simple then, three Manhattans coming right up.” I could barely finish the sentence when my father peeled off his shirt, baring a furry barrel of a chest, and John quickly followed suit. 

Dad had never been as shy as I might have preferred, but now he relished every opportunity to show off the results of his addition of Ferdinand Ferrari—the famed personal trainer to the stars—to his private staff two years ago. John’s smirk widened as a rosy blush invaded my practiced, stoic expression, but mercifully my father was oblivious to the awkwardness of this moment.

“My boy makes a great Manhattan, John. Better than sex, I always say,” dad boasted, nearly breaking John’s composure as he stifled a snorting laugh. “He missed his calling as a bartender.”

“I can’t wait.” Lafferty grinned back at me as he walked.

I was gladdened for a break in the conversation when the two men made their way toward the sauna and guest bathrooms. I shut my eyes and sucked in a series of deep breaths to steady myself before making my way to the bar. 

My fingers trembled as I grabbed a triplet of fine glasses from a cabinet, itching to reach down towards the rigid cock in my British Airways lounge pants. I’d been making Manhattans for my father since I was a small boy, and the familiar task was soothing in that moment. The clink of ice in the large tumbler. The gentle splashes—bourbon, vermouth, and bitters caressing and complementing each other. I closed my eyes as I stirred them all together, tension draining away until a hand slid down the back of my pants.

Firm fingers gripped the soft, bare flesh of my ass, and John rasped in my ear with hot breath, “Looks delicious, boy.” I jolted from my meditation and nearly dropped the drink, startling backward against his warm, white-furred chest and the bulging gray towel wrapped round his waist. “I couldn’t help myself.”

“Dad could be back any moment…”

“I know,” the older man grinned as I turned my head, latching his lips to mine and driving a thick forefinger between my cheeks to tease my tightened hole. “Isn’t it exciting?” He growled into my mouth, gripping my neck in his other hand to hold me in place.

I struggled against him, but my hand reflexively found a grip on the growing knob of his cock. My meek attempt to escape just invigorated the man, his hips grinding that slab of manhood against me.

“What do you think he’d do if he came back to you bent over this kitchen counter?” John teased. “What would any man do with an ass so ripe for the taking?”

“Don’t be an asshole.” I shoved him off me, sending him backpedaling a few steps.

Still, Lafferty held that infuriating grin, filled with unshakeable confidence and ravenous entitlement. “I’m just having a little fun.” He planted his hands behind him on the counter and leaned back casually, giving me an unobstructed view of the man’s exquisite body. It was much as I’d always imagined beneath those fine suits, lean and firm flesh with a layer of middle-age pudge and a forest of silver hair from neck to toe. The sight was nearly enough to drive me back into his arms, but dad returned, also clad in a towel around the waist, just in time to stop me.

“Where’re those drinks, Avery? The men are thirsty!” He chuckled, meeting my nervous smile with an oblivious grin as he patted the slight roundness of his muscled belly and let his fingers graze through the forest of dark hair.

“Coming right up.” I deftly strained the chilled liquid into our martini glasses and handed them off to each of the other men. “So, what are we drinking to?”

Lafferty grinned and declared, “To friends, old and new,” nodding to dad and myself respectively. The clink of our glasses was like the shot of a starter pistol, and the bittersweet drink sprinted down my throat.

Dad snorted and teased, “Slow down, son. It’s not a race.” I smiled sheepishly and forced myself to a pace, already feeling the pleasant haze of a well-mixed drink setting in over this awkward encounter. Quietly, we sipped our drinks and gazed out the kitchen windows over a dimming Central Park cast in the warm, soft glow of sunset.

“Did you know, David,” John began, glancing at me with the barest hint of a smirk, “that little Avery has a new beau at the office?”

“A secret suitor, huh?” Dad exclaimed, squeezing my shoulder. “He better be quite the guy to be worthy of my boy. So, when am I meeting him?”

I could scarcely breathe as my chest clenched with anxious irritation, and I hid my crimson cheeks behind the rim of my glass as I stalled for time.

“It’s all very hush, hush, I believe,” Lafferty interceded. “But I’ve always had a sixth sense for these sorts of things.”

“It’s just new,” I managed to add quietly, “nothing much to discuss.”

Dad arched a bushy eyebrow suspiciously but nodded, “Sure, son, but I’m glad you’re getting out there. Just be careful with those office romances. They can get a bit messy.” He grinned.

“How is the new Mrs. Appelbaum, David?” John asked, mercifully shifting the conversation away from me. “I saw her on the cover of Esquire the other day and, ahem,” he winked, “couldn’t resist picking up a copy to peruse later.”

Dad chuckled and leaned back against the counter, arm propped on the black granite, and said, “Absolutely fantastic, John.” He clapped a hand over my ear and joked, “Ear muffs, buddy,” before going on, “imagine waking up every morning with that body in bed next to you. All yours and so eager to please.”

I blushed as I swatted his hand away and protested, “Jesus, dad. We don’t need every detail.”

“I could stand to hear a bit more,” John said with a chortle. “She’s a doll, but the Mrs. doesn’t exactly spark my engine these days.”

“You ever think of getting a newer model?” Dad laughed. “It can make you feel like a brand new man.”

“Nah, the wife and I are happy, but that doesn’t mean a man can’t have a little fun on the side,” Lafferty grinned at me. “I’ve been chasing this hot young thing at the office.”

“Are you guys hungry?” I tried to interrupt.

“Maybe in a bit, buddy,” dad practically growled at me before turning back to John. “Good for you, man. Any luck with her so far?”

“Actually,” John leaned back and propped his hand behind his head, “I don’t mind telling you I got one of the best BJs of my life the other day.”

“Fuck, man,” dad nodded, his voice husky and laden with a rough edge of masculinity. “That sounds real good right about now.” As the bulges in the two men’s towels became unmistakably larger, I gazed intently out the window. In a hushed voice, dad added, “Let me know if she has a friend. Wouldn’t mind having a nice little piece of ass to tap whenever I’m in the city.”

“Hah, I’ll have to ask,” John smirked, nodding down to the obvious shape jutting below dad’s waist, “looks like it’s been a long week without the Mrs. for you.”

“Oh,” dad muttered in a flustered voice, “sorry, I didn’t—“ He shifted his body to hide the excitement their conversation had stirred up. “Excuse me. Why don’t you get started on dinner, buddy, and we’ll get dressed a bit more properly? I’ll leave an extra pair of lounge clothes out for you, John.” He hurriedly fled back to the guest rooms, leaving John and I alone.

“You’re a real asshole, you know that?” I hissed as soon as dad was out of earshot. “What the fuck game are you playing?”

John looked at me, eyes glinting like a starving predator, and surged forward to pin me against the counter. His firm body rubbed me as his lips engulfed mine. His tongue tasted bittersweet, exploring my mouth with the natural entitlement of a man who’d never been denied anything. I pushed back against him, but he pinned my hands down on the granite and snarled, “Don’t pretend like you don’t want this, boy.”

With one last probe of his tongue, he released me and stepped back, propping his hands on his hips as he let his towel uncoil and fall to the floor. His meaty cock bobbed, hanging between his thighs like a piece of bait meant to lure me to my knees. “After that conversation, it’ll be fast,” he promised, “but you’re going to give me that sweet mouth again unless you want David to walk in on us like this.”

Heart racing, furious breaths swelling my slender chest, I wanted to throttle the infuriating man. But all that stress and anger had me throbbing in my lounge pants. John startled backward when I lunged to my knees and swallowed the length of his cock straight down my throat, slobbering on him like a desperate whore.

“Oh fuck,” he groaned, rearing his head back. “Good boy, Avery. That’s it—moan like a bitch while you suck daddy’s fat cock.” The older man grabbed my head in both hands and thrusted forward, pushing his mushroom head deeper as it gushed precum. “I’m gonna breed your hot little ass next time,” he boasted, “make you moan for my load like the needy whore you are.”

With every word, I slurped on his cock more hungrily, begging with my mute lips for the heady contents of the heavy nuts against my chin. He lasted barely more than a minute before his fingers clenched at my skull and his pungent seed flooded into my eager mouth. Throbbing, jolts of cum splattered against the roof of my mouth until his jizz had coated every inch of my insides from my lips to my stomach. 

After one last thrust, spurting a final glob straight down my gullet, he let out a satisfied sigh and pulled me off of him. “Fuck, my boy,” he said as he stepped back, “you really do make me feel like a new man. You like all that power. Don’t you, son?” John raised his bare foot to plant it on my chest, gently but firmly pushing me until I submitted and shifted back to lie on the floor. The man stood atop me, shifting his weight to pin me there, and grinned down as I looked up. “Beneath a real man, just where you belong. Isn’t it?”

“Well, that’s enough of that. Your dad’s sure to be back soon.” John gestured to the towel on the floor beside me and I blushed as I obediently handed it up to him. He wrapped it back around his waist, offering me one last look at his dripping cock before he made his way toward the guest rooms and said, “Now get to work on dinner, boy. Feels like you worked up our appetites.” 

I really miss you and your stories so much!!

You were one of the few reasons that made me scroll through Tumblr and Twitter. I understand that you don't always have the inspiration or the desire, especially for something you do as a hobby. But in case this means something to you, I want you to know that your stories are... little works of art that always leave me wanting more. I'm looking forward to knowing how the story of "From Boss to Boyfriend" continues. Im in love with Mike.

Anyway, thank you so much for all those moments in which you have made me enjoy this little piece of your life and work.

Take care

“Get a Load of Lafferty” (Avery POV) Start | Previous | Next

“So,” John broke the stunned silence, “I suppose you were a bit too busy to notice my email.” The slender, silver-haired man just smirked as Mike stammered unintelligibly and I bent down to pull up my briefs and trousers, feeling the warm cum dripping from my ass soak into the fabric.

John raised a halting hand and said, “Calm down, Mike. Can’t say I blame you for punching a hot ticket like Avery Appelbaum, and my lips will be sealed, as long as his aren’t.” He unzipped his fly and fished out eight inches of cock as pristine as the man himself, unblemished shaft rigid as steel and an engorged mushroom head glistening with potent precum at its end.

“Fuck,” Mike and I muttered in unison, but our tones diverged. My mouth watered at the sight of the handsome man’s married meat, but Mike scowled and possessively gripped me by the shoulder. He stepped between us and said, “Come on, John, he’s not a toy I can let you play with. He’s my… uhh…”

“Well,” John frowned and sucked at his teeth as he propped his hands on his hips, “that’s a bit of a sticky wicket, isn’t it? Busting a nut in the hot boy down the hall is one thing, but being romantically involved with a subordinate is risky business these days.”

“You know it’s not like that,” Mike protested.

“I could be convinced,” John reminded him, craning his head to meet my eyes. “How about it, son? I bet you wouldn’t mind one bit.” His combination of looks and charms was almost intoxicating given my taste in men, and my silence was deafening.

Mike turned to look at me, crestfallen, as he loosened his grip. “You don’t mind?” He asked, almost sounding hopeful that I’d protest.

“What choice do we have?” I reasoned, trying to stifle my heightening anticipation. “It’s just a blowjob, after all…”

“There’s a good boy,” John said as he tapped his Oxford shoe impatiently, “get on your knees before I change my mind. That ass did look rather fuckable…”

Mike’s face reddened with a mix of rage and shame as he let me pass and watched me sink to the floor at the silver fox’s feet. I could feel his eyes burning the back of my head as I looked up at a grinning John and leaned forward to plant my lips over the shining tip of his swollen rod.

“Aww fuck,” he sighed, sliding his fingers through my hair, “that mouth is an absolute marvel, son.” Goaded onward, I let my mouth open wide around his mushroom head and tightened my lips over his shaft as they dragged down its prodigious length. As soon as my face was buried in his soft trousers, John boasted, “You know, I can’t wait until the next time I run into your father, knowing I’ll have busted a nut down his son’s throat.”

I winced a bit. The Laffertys did tend to run in the same circles as my own family, despite the distance between their New England origins and our own on the West Coast. Still, I was glad I’d buttoned up my pants because the sordid notion was embarrassingly exciting to me.

“Jesus, John,” Mike exclaimed. “Don’t be an asshole.”

“Hey, you had your fun and now I get to have mine. Besides, it looks like you’re almost ready for an encore just watching your golden boy toy polish my knob.” I angled my head as much as I could with John’s hips pumping his cock between my lips, and he wasn’t lying. Mike’s wrinkled trousers were drawn taut around his revitalized cock. “He’s quite the insatiable little cocksucker too. Perhaps we’ll have to do this again sometime.” John teasingly winked down at me.

“Just get this over with and bust your nut, dude.”

John chuckled, “You’re eager for me to feed your boy a nice, hot load of Lafferty jizz, huh?”

“I’m eager to be done watching my boyfriend suck another man’s cock.”

“Oh, ho, ho!” John exclaimed. “So he is your boyfriend.” I blushed as he pushed my head back until just his tip was between my lips to look up at him. “You hear that, Avery?” He taunted, shivering with pleasure at my mouth sucked at his tip. He looked back toward Mike with a grin and said, “Your boyfriend certainly seems to love sucking another man’s cock.”

Mike let out an animal growl, so feral it momentarily pierced even Lafferty’s interminable confidence. But John managed a diplomatic smile as he said, “Come on, Mike. We’re not fucking neanderthals. There’s nothing to be so jealous about. Hell, if you can truthfully tell me you’re not turned on by the sight of this hot little queer sucking my cock, I’ll zip up and leave you be right now.”

I hoped Mike couldn’t tell how I sucked that much harder at the prospect of being denied John’s load, but there was no doubt the man himself noticed as he rolled his eyes back and let out a little sigh. Mike was quiet for a long moment before he finally said, “Sure, it’s hot in a certain way.”

“There’s a good sport,” John encouraged. “Come on, I only got a glimpse of that big dick of yours. No sense just standing there…”

Behind me, I heard the telltale sound of a zipper lowering before the older man above me grinned and exclaimed, “I’m not one to be easily impressed, but damn if that isn’t a marvelous cock. Come on and let your boy see how hard he’s making you.”

Mike’s heavy footfalls came closer until I felt the warmth of his body right behind me and he pressed his still-wet meat against the side of my face, as rigid as ever. His voice was husky when he asked, “You like sucking that cock, Avery?”

With a nod and a moan, I buried my lips down over the base of John’s shaft and made him groan with sudden pleasure. Mike’s hand joined John’s on my head and urged me on as he stroked his fat dick against my ear and dripped in my hair.

“Fuck yeah,” John rasped. “He’s really going for it now. Keep urging him on.”

Mike’s hand gripped me hard as his crotch pressed against me, jamming me back and forth along John’s big dick as he growled, “That’s it, bitch. Choke on that fat cock like the little queer you are. Make him bust a big nut down your whore throat.”

I trembled with pleasure on my knees, gagging on a gushing manhood, between the two suited men as they grunted and groaned above me. I could feel John swelling as he leaned back against the door and leaned his head back, but hardly realized what was happening when Mike circled to stand behind him and squeezed his cock tight right below the knob of his head.

Mike spurted huge globs, of the same cum still dripping from my ass, all over my face and into my hair just as John’s hands clenched my ears and buried his member down my throat to shoot two thick ropes straight into my esophagus. He loosened his grip just enough for me to pull back and let that spewing cock fill my mouth while I struggled to swallow. Inside and out, I was sprayed down by my boss and his own boss with the whole office on just the other side of the door behind them.

And still, after it all, the thing that had made my heart race quickest that day was the moment Mike called me his boyfriend.

Story is ongoing on my pay-what-you-want Patreon and coming over here as I make progress. My ebook of Tumblr stories that were lost in the purge is available for patrons as well as exclusive shorter stuff that I’m working on expanding upon in addition to more on Tumblr.

I forgot to post this here, but I wrote a New Year's Eve story based on this micro story and photo I posted on Twitter.

I popped the bottle early, and sat sipping from a glass of half-decent champagne on the couch as my stepdad’s grandfather clock ticked away the last minutes of the year. I had the big show on the TV, but even if I wouldn’t be caught dead in Times Square, it just made me wish I were back home in New York as planned before my canceled flight.

Holidays with the family weren’t so bad, and snowy Michigan was beautiful, but it would have been nice to start the new year with a raucous kiss instead of a quiet evening. Mom and John had gone to sleep a little after ten. Both my sister and John’s son, and their families, had dispersed in the days since Christmas, so it was just me left to celebrate alone in the big sleepy house.

I shut my eyes and sank back into the deep sofa under a blanket, feeling the fizz of the wine on my tongue before letting it slide down and fuel the growing buzz in my head. Even after two and a half years at NYU, I was still a lightweight when it came to alcohol, but tonight I didn’t mind at all. It was a good way to dull the somber evening.

I glanced at my phone again, but my messages were still unanswered. Patrick and I weren’t dating exactly, but we were something. Something enough that we’d planned an evening together, one he was now undoubtedly having with someone else. I had no illusions about the romantic potential of a man who’d bang his own student during office hours, but he had a big dick and a thrilling wit. Even if he wasn’t likely to be my future husband, I could still dream.

The crowd’s excitement rose on TV, drawing my attention. Two minutes til midnight. I thought of tasting fine champagne on Patrick’s lips, of feeling his strong hands gripping me as the ball dropped, and my own hand idly wandered down to the growing bulge in my pajamas.

“Ahem,” a voice came from the kitchen. I startled to my feet and blushed when I saw my stepfather smirking back at me. “Sorry to interrupt, bud. Just grabbing a glass of water,” He said, scratching at his bare hairy chest as he held up his empty glass. John was tall, looming over me at 5’6”, and burly as a bear. But above all, the hefty package in his snug boxer-briefs made my eyes widen. I’d caught fleeting glances of him undressed in the hallway before, but never clearly enough to find myself dreaming of him bending me over the island counter.

“It’s nearly midnight,” I remarked, picking up a half-empty bottle from the coffee table. “Champagne instead?”

John glanced back toward the bedroom, thinking for a moment before he shrugged, “Why not?”

One minute til midnight. We met halfway between the living room and the kitchen, and my heart thumped faster in my chest with every step. He was a raw man, not unkind but quite unrefined, of the sort I rarely met in Manhattan. I felt small and soft, emasculated standing closer before him as he accepted a healthy pour with a mischievous grin.

“You’re a bad influence,” he chuckled, patting my shoulder. His palm was warm and meaty, and I thought of how it’d feel cupping my ass.

“You have no idea,” I countered, boldly reaching to run my fingers through the fur on his chest down to his belly. His eyes widened a bit and it was his turn to blush.

Thirty seconds til midnight. John relaxed when I drew back, tipping a mouthful of champagne between his lips, a few drops clinging to the thick fur on his bottom lip. We stood a bit awkwardly until he moved to stand behind the couch and I came up close beside him. It felt good to smell a man, to feel the warmth radiating off his powerful body. It was nice not to be alone.

Fifteen seconds til midnight. He fixed his gaze on the TV, standing stiffly. For a moment, I regretted touching him—a glimmer of stolen pleasure that might sully this friendship with my mother’s husband—but then I saw the shape of his cock snaking down his thigh beneath his underwear. It was enormous, and growing.

Five seconds til midnight. What would happen? I wondered, heart racing as the crowd counted down and the ball descended.

One second til midnight. I clinked my glass to his, and sipped as I whispered, “Happy New Year, John.” Fireworks went off and the crowd cheered. John faced me with a smile, gulping down another mouthful of wine. His eyebrows rose when I stepped forward, my shirt pressing to his gut, and rose onto my toes to press my lips against his as the sound of the TV faded into the background.

He took a sharp breath through his nose. His muscles tensed, but he didn’t pull away. Our arms hung awkwardly at our sides, but our lips didn’t part. He shut his eyes and I did too. I don’t know what he saw behind his eyelids, but it relaxed him. His mouth engulfed mine before closing again, snug and wet against me. His hand came to cup me at the small of my back, sliding under my shirt until I felt coarse fingertips against my smooth skin.

John let out a little groan, gripping me. His tongue pushed forward, parting my lips to probe past them. He was an aggressive kisser, and I could taste the champagne as his tongue grazed along the insides of my mouth. I was taken aback when he stepped forward, pinning me between his body and the back of the couch, and ran his fingers along the waistband of my pajamas. His fat cock throbbed against my flat stomach and I felt a wetness blossoming through the fabric of my shirt.

He pulled his tongue from my mouth and our eyes opened, fixing on each other as the reality of the moment set in. If that was all this had amounted to, it would have been enough, but John didn’t release me as he emptied the rest of his glass down his throat and tossed it aside to grip the back of my head and say, “Happy New Year, buddy. I think we ought to do a bit more celebrating. Don’t you?”

“A Pen in Company Ink” (Avery POV) Start | Previous | Next

“Ohhhh fuck,” I howled, my fingers smudging the pristine glass where they desperately gripped it. Mike battered down my back door and buried his engorged head deep inside me with one swift stroke. So much for slowing things down between us.

He clasped a hand over my mouth and growled, “Jesus, boy, quiet the fuck down.” The fabric of his trousers rubbed against my bare cheeks as he rammed between them. “God damn,” he muttered to himself with a slap of my ass, “always tight. Always so fucking tight.”

I watched his sunlit face’s reflection in the window, savoring every twitch of pleasure in his grinning expression. Hot breaths scorched the hairs on the back of my neck. Moaning wildly, I let my ecstasy pour out into his firm, warm palm.

His body engulfed me, thick arm encircling just below my chest, as his pumping hips pummeled my insides open. Only when his heavy nuts nuzzled against me did he take a moment to rest, to let me feel that fullness and surrender myself to it.

Mike pressed his lips to my ear and whispered, “You like that big boss cock, Avery?” I nodded. He squeezed me tight—lifting my body up and forcing me onto my tip-toes—and growled, “That’s right. Sticking my nice, fat pen inside my eager little company ink.”

“Oh fuck,” I whimpered as my dick went instantly rigid.

He grabbed my member like a handle, jerking me forward and back with a low chuckle. His cock throbbed inside me, hard as steel with engorged veins pulsing down its length. With a quick shove, he pinned me tight to the window, nose pressed to my neck, belly against the small of my back, and hips grinding me into the glass.

As Mike began to thrust, I clenched my teeth and found myself wondering if the cleaning staff would notice the shape of me smudged on the glass, if they’d suspect what had happened earlier in the day. But mostly, I prayed for my boss’s precum to flow hard and heavy so his pumping punches would slide easier past the grip of my stretched hole. It wasn’t long before wet, squelching sounds were added to the chorus of flesh dragging through flesh and muffled grunts and moans.

Tightening his iron grip, a meaty finger nestled between my teeth and filled my tastebuds with the rich flavor of a real man’s body. His hips hastened. His grunts deepened. Down below, my battered ass was aflame with sensation from his long, relentless thrusts.

My dick ached for release, driven to the point of madness by the paragon of manhood having his way with my helpless body. But when I reached down to usher myself over the edge, Mike battered my hand away and snarled, “No cheating.” He shifted his thick knob and made me squirm when it roughly rubbed my prostate.

“Oh god,” I whimpered around his finger, “I…” Mike reached his hand between my legs and gripped my thigh. He lifted me back up onto the tips of my toes and then beyond, firmly pressing his broad chest to my back to hold me aloft as my feet dangled and I hung suspended on his cock as he pushed my button over and over.

“That’s it, boy,” he muttered with a note of self-satisfaction. “I’m gonna breed you so hard you cum like a little bitch.” His deep voice rumbled in my ear. His manhood relentlessly rang me like a bell. His powerful body held me up like I was nothing. And I couldn’t take it anymore. I howled into his hand and trembled in his embrace. My dick painted the window white, pulsing over and over again as he shallowly pumped his hips until he’d wrung every drop out of me like a rag twisted tight in his grip.

He let out a guttural groan. My body had gone limp, but my hole squeezed his member tighter than ever as if it were begging to be bred. Mike gripped me tight and furiously worked his body, suit rumpled and damp from exertion, until his pumping cock unleashed the precious cargo hauled in his heavy nuts.

Long ropes of seed exploded outward, pushing their way deep inside me and being pushed deeper still by his burrowing cock. With every torrent, his body tensed and he groaned with his lips pressed tight to the back of my neck. Even knowing the man as I already did, I was stunned by his endurance when I counted eleven pulses of cum. I felt it in my guts, swollen with the virile goo of a man above men.

“Shit,” Mike sighed hotly against me. “I can’t believe we did that.”

“Me neither,” said a familiar voice from behind us. I turned my head, wincing as Mike hurriedly dragged his cock from my dripping wet hole, and felt my cheeks burn as I saw John Lafferty smirking against the door with his arms crossed over his chest.

“I did knock, you know,” John said with a chuckle as Mike scrambled to stuff himself back in his trousers. But I was frozen in place against the window, gazing back at our voyeur.

Tall with a thick head of white hair, John’s tailored blue suit fit his slender frame like a glove. He was a silver fox from a Massachusetts family nearly as monied as my own. More importantly, he was a partner at the firm. And most importantly, the married father of four had a sizable bulge in his pants as he grinned at me.

“Shutting the Door” (Mike POV) Start | Previous | Next

“That’s it,” I groaned, my thick black-haired fingers clenched down on the head bobbing in my lap, “suck that fat dick, Avery.”

He paused and tilted back to look up at me over the rim of my round gut, stretching out a blue polo. That pair of quizzical eyes met mine and I almost blushed. “Sorry, Jon,” I chuckled, loosening my grip. “I’ve had a weird week.”

The young man dragged his lips back along my prodigious length until my glistening mushroom popped out of his mouth and he smirked, “You can call me whatever you like, sir.”

I shook my head and tousled his hair. “Just keep sucking, boy,” I commanded in the stern voice that never failed to drive this burgeoning Broadway star wild. I leaned back and grinned as his mouth engulfed me once more.

I’d met Jon back when he was stuck in the ensemble of some boring revival. Couldn’t recall which show, but my eyes were glued to the slender dirty-blond boy’s ass the second he stepped on stage. After kissing my date goodnight, I managed to pick him up at the stage door and drag him back to my place. I got my money’s worth for that price of admission.

But even Jon, talented as he was, couldn’t get my mind off that wonderful and horrifying night. It wasn’t the first time a bout of my classically midwestern sincerity had gotten me in trouble, but Avery’s stunned, panicked look was hard to forget. We’d salvaged the night, but long after he was snug and asleep against my chest, I was still playing that moment over in my head.

I’d startled awake, flat on my back with Avery sinking that tight ass down over my morning wood, and gladly busted a nut before reality sank back in. I gave him a sheepish kiss after dressing and jumping in a car back home to get ready for work.

Just the thought of that perfect ass made me throb between Jon’s lips, feeding him a gagging gulp of precum. I grinned and grabbed him roughly to fuck that pretty face into a proper mess. My whole body spasmed with urgent pleasure as the haunting, lustful memory of Avery drove me into a primal frenzy of domineering strength until I erupted onto my cocksucker’s struggling tongue.

“Oh fuck,” I howled, stoppering my lips before Avery’s name could sneak back out between them. “Swallow it all, faggot,” I said with a snarl, smacking the back of Jon’s head insistently. “Show me how you crave that daddy dick, boy.”

Jon moaned around my member, his ecstatic harmony to my demeaning melody, and licked the meaty rod clean. Not a single drop escaped his hunger for me. This is what I love, I told myself. It’s simple. It’s satisfying. I didn’t need to be messing around with a rich daddy’s boy in a city full of eager sluts. Life was good.

But still I woke the next day rubbing my morning wood into a pillow, aching to sink into the waiting warmth of Avery’s snug rear. “Fuck,” I muttered, irritated with the fantasy my sleepy brain so readily summoned for me.

With a huff and a glance at my clock, its green light abrasively bright in the pre-dawn hours, I slumped back into bed and pumped my fist beneath the sheets. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine anyone straddling me, anyone but him bouncing atop my cock. But it just took a moment of weakness for me to let him in, to imagine Avery gasping with pleasure in my lap, for me to erupt like a milky volcano.

A sliver of light from the horizon glimmered in the cooling splatters of jizz in my fur. My chest rose and fell with recovering breaths. Looking down at it, I felt a swell of pride at the amount. It was like my nuts were working overtime since they emptied into Avery.

I waddled to the shower, washing it all down the drain in the rush of warm water. My half-hard member twitched at the thought of pinning that smooth skin to the tile, of making him mine at absolutely every opportunity. I hadn’t had it this bad for someone in a long while.

I managed to lose myself in the routine—shave, brush teeth, check notifications as I walk, drink coffee, eat a bagel, tap out a few replies on the train, put on a smile in the office—and it was such a relief. For the better part of an hour, I didn’t have to think much about anything at all.

And then Avery smiled at me, perfect pearlescent teeth shining as he chirped, “Good morning, sir.” His glittering green eyes followed me like a pair of lost puppies. He ran his slender fingers through that cascading cinnamon hair and my own hand twitched to touch him as I marched past.

“Good morning, Avery,” I replied curtly, “in my office, please.” He practically jumped out of his chair to nervously follow in my wake. I took a deep breath as I stepped into my office, straining to turn my expression to stone. “Shut the door, Avery.”

He obeyed as I turned to face him, a mischievous grin on his cute lips. He asked eagerly, “What can I do for you, sir?”

“I think we should slow down,” I spat the words before I could stop myself, wincing at Avery’s crestfallen look. “There’s a lot going on coming up and we can’t be distracted by—” I paused, gesturing my hand at the space between us, “—this.”

We stood, his pain raw on his face and mine bricked behind a stoic wall, in silence for a long moment before I continued, “You’re a cute guy, but you don’t know what it’s like to need a job. If I fuck up my career by banging my employee, I can’t just coast on family money for the rest of my life. If anyone found out about us…”

Avery straightened as I spoke, that preternatural confidence of a person who never wanted for anything returning. He even smiled, perfect teeth gleaming, before he asked, “Do you know where my dad met his first wife?” I shook my head, and he said, “She was his secretary. And my mom?” He hardly paused this time. “His general counsel. And his third wife? A model who did the cover of one of his magazines.”

“And in this analogy… I’m your father?” I vacillated between a smirk and a frown. He rolled his eyes and stepped toward the door to pull the shades. I raised a hand, protesting, “Wait, people might think we’re…” I trailed off as Avery unbuckled his belt and pulled down his suit pants and briefs to expose his perfectly round, smooth ass to me.

He stepped to the floor-to-ceiling window looking out over Midtown, planting his hands on the glass as he bent forward. With a grin and a glimpse at the throbbing knob bulged halfway down my thigh, Avery said, “Come fuck me, Mike. You can go as slow as you want; I’m not in a hurry.”

I was without words, so I chose action. I closed the distance between us, fumbling with my fly, and sank into his slicked hole with a groan. It wasn’t going to be that easy to get rid of this one.

“Fucking Love” (Avery POV) Start | Previous | Next

“On the third date?!?” Eric exclaimed via text message. “That’s weird as hell.”

I lounged in briefs beside the fire pit on my balcony with a glass of chardonnay and stared at my best friend’s reply regarding yesterday’s momentous evening. I didn’t disagree, but still something gnawed at me. I replied, “I dunno. It was a little much, but kinda sweet.”

“Omg,” he shot back. “When have you ever liked a guy who was sweet?”

He knew all my secrets, much to my occasional chagrin, and he wasn’t wrong—I had a bit of a bastard fetish. Self-obsessed hedge fund managers, stuck up professors, sullen NYPD officers, and the like were the typical subjects of my frequent though short-lived infatuations. On the surface, Mike fit the bill, and I never would have pegged him for the sort to make a romantic proclamation. But more surprising, I might have liked it, if only just a little bit.

“What did you say?” Eric interrupted my ruminations. “The face you must have made…”

“I just kinda stammered until he kissed me,” I answered. “He stayed over, but we never talked about it.”

“Did you fuck again in the morning?”

“Yeah”

“Well, at least you finally banged him. I don’t think you’re ready for that clinginess though.”

In truth, I was the one feeling clingy. Mike had hardly spoken to me outside of our work and a few scattered responses to my texts. I drafted a confession in the message window, but deleted it and wrote instead, “Haha. You’re probably right.” This was one secret I preferred to keep to myself.

I gulped the last mouthful of wine and stood up a little unsteadily. Between the drinks and a glance at the sofa my boss had pounded my ass upon the night before, my briefs were bulging and my ass aching.

Striding toward the bathroom, I pulled up Mike’s Facebook profile on my phone. He had just a few scattered posts dating back weeks, mostly tagged by friends, but I opened his profile picture and swiped a few times until I found one I liked. His bright, perfect teeth in a goofy smile with those burly arms crossed over his chest, the fabric of a blue polo stretched tight over him mass, and a decent view overlooking Midtown.

I pulled open a drawer and inspected a row of dildos, arranging by ascending size, and let my hand hover over them until I selected the one best approximating Mike’s generous endowment. It felt satisfying to squeeze it in my fingers, to shut my eyes and imagine the moan he’d make.

Dimming the bathroom to a warm haze, I pulled off my briefs, knelt on the floor, and let the shining brightness of Mike’s face fill my vision as I squirted a dollop of lube into my palm and reached back to rub it between my taut cheeks. I shuddered at the cool slickness but chewed my lips as my fingers warmed it and coaxed it inside my tight ring. My slender fingers hardly fazed me as I slipped them, one after the other, inside and worked myself open in preparation.

“Oh, open me up, daddy,” I whimpered in one-sided conversation with the absent object of my desire. “It feels so fucking good, sir.” It felt silly, but when I gazed at Mike’s face I could nearly hear a reply in that low, rumbling voice.

I remembered his eagerness, his aggressiveness, and forced my fingers deeper to make myself gasp at the sudden pang. Still, my digits couldn’t match his—those thick, rough hands with their coarse tips and that iron grip. I needed more.

Circling my fingers inside me, I took another palmful of lube and greased up that fat dildo as I whispered, “Fuck, you’re so big. You want to fuck your boy’s pussy with that huge cock?”

Fucking right I do, you little slut, he would have said. He would have kissed me, engulfing my lips in his with such a hunger it felt like he’d eagerly swallow me whole.

I couldn’t wait.

I brought the swollen head of his slicked cock to my hole and slipped out my fingers to make room for the marvel of a man. Pushing myself back, I howled as his girth forced its way between my cheeks, but once his head popped inside I couldn’t stop myself. That engorged mushroom burrowed up into me until his bulbous balls were snug against my ass.

Tears streamed down my face as I whined to his still, smiling visage, “Oh fuck, Mike. I can’t believe you just shoved right in there.”

This ass is mine, isn’t it? He would have asked, smacking my muscled cheek for good measure. I should get to play as rough as I like with my new favorite toy.

I crossed my arms over my chest, hands grasping my shoulders and elbows tucked against my stomach, as I imagined those powerful forearms squeezing me into submission. I rose up along the length of Mike’s member, my insides squeezing every veiny inch, and let myself drop.

That’s it, Avery. Fuck that tight little ass on daddy’s big dick.

With every plunged, I loosened just a little. I changed the shape of myself to accommodate him and it drove him wild. “I’m yours, Mike,” I whispered, gazing at him in awe of the way his presence could make me feel even when it was just imagined.

You want me to breed this hole again, boy? He would have barked. Empty these big nuts right inside you?

“Oh fuck yes, daddy,” I shouted, engulfing every inch of him and squeezing him tight until I trembled with pleasure and my own dick spewed its excitement onto the marble floor.

He would have filled me with his seed. He would have seen the ecstasy all over my face and had no doubt of how I felt about him. He would have claimed my body and never let me forget to whom it belonged. He would have said, I fucking love you.

As I collapsed sideways to the cool floor, Mike unfailingly engorged inside me, I whispered, “I fucking love you too.”

“The Third Date“ (Avery POV) Start | Previous | Next

The elevator shook with the vigor of Mike’s charge as soon as the doors shut. My feet dangled above the floor while he held me against the wall, his ravenous mouth engulfing mine in the kiss it’d been so yearning to deliver.

All through the evening—the romantic dinner, the Broadway show, the long Central Park stroll—the tension between us mounted until finally my burly companion squeezed my hand and growled, “We’re going back to your place.”

He left little room for argument, stubble scratching my face, his tongue darting between my lips and diving deep as it could reach. Those strong hands grasped at me and pulled my shirt up out of my pants to slide up over my smooth chest. He rolled his hips forward, grinding his rigid bulge against me as he groaned with anticipation.

With a chime, the elevator doors opened into my apartment. Mike lowered his hands to cup them over my ass and lift my body up against his, carrying me into the dark room, lit only by the vast view of the city through a wall of windows, until I had a moment to gasp, “Alexa, turn living room lights on.” An array of modern and recessed lights gently woke and illuminated the airy, immaculate room.

Mike smirked as he glanced around, stopping mid-step with me in his arms, to chuckle, “This place is outrageous. You know that?”

“You’re not in Kansas anymore, Dorothy,” I teased the country boy turned financier, loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt to reach my fingers down to that furry chest. “Besides, my grandfather owns the place. He’s just letting me use it until I get my own apartment,” I explained as Mike carried me over to a white leather couch.

He lay me down on my back and climbed atop me, his heavy body pinning mine as he breathed hotly on my face with a laugh, “Well damn, I was only dating you for your sweet view of the park.”

I slapped my hand against his muscled chest and exclaimed, “Dad warned me to watch out for gold-diggers like you.” With a tilt of my head, I smirked, “Maybe I can offer a consolation prize,” and pulled open my shirt to bare my slender chest.

The older man stared down at me and chewed his lip as he nodded, “God damn. That’s not a bad view either, boy.” He rubbed his body down against mine, propping himself up with a thick arm. He rubbed his other hand all over my soft skin. “I’m going to fuck you, Avery,” he whispered, gazing into my eyes. “I’m going to pummel your beautiful little ass until you’re begging me to cum.”

With an excited grin, I nodded, “Please, Mike. I’m all yours.”

“Fucking right you are,” he growled as he rose up onto his knees to unbuckle my belt and tear my pants down my thin thighs. “Nice panties,” he chuckled as he hooked a thumb in my tight, patterned briefs before pausing. Locking eyes with me, he slowly lowered his face until he clenched my waistband between his straight white teeth and dragged them down. He took them in hand and licked his way down the length of my thighs.

“Oh god,” I whimpered, shuddering with pleasure, “I’ve been dreaming of this.” Naked before him, I shivered in the cool air and longed for his warmth. He rose back up to his knees on the couch and grinned down at me, still clad in his suit with nothing loosened but his tie.

“I bet you have,” he boasted with a maddening, irresistible confidence. Mike gripped my hips and flipped me over onto my stomach, falling forward to bury his face between my round, ample cheeks. He rubbed his nose along the length of my crack before following the same route with his warm, wet tongue. “Fuck, you taste good, boy. Nice and sweet,” he murmured against my flesh as I moaned.

Mike’s firm hands on my cheeks pinned me to the couch’s leather as he licked and kissed at my hole before turning his tongue into a battering ram. I trembled with pleasure at his hurried advance, and moments later he was burying his lips against me as he delved deeper.

“Take me, Mike,” I begged. “Make me yours, sir.”

But if he heard me, he didn’t give a sign. He just assaulted my insides with that groping tongue, his scruffy cheeks rubbing against my smooth ones. With every plunge deeper, I shook with ecstatic sensation but couldn’t escape his grasp. The man was gluttonously enjoying his dessert.

I was dripping wet and putty in his hands by the time I heard the faint sound of his zipper sliding down. “Oh god yes,” I whimpered and felt his lips curl into a smile against me. He slowly pulled his tongue from my ass and shuffled forward, spreading my thighs with his knees until he sank forward to pin me beneath his broad chest and round belly, the warm fabric of his suit like a blanket over my chilled skin. The engorged head of his fat cock pressed to my hole, pausing to rub against me teasingly.

Mike kissed the back of my neck and whispered, “Should I get a condom, boy?” He let me feel his thick tip pushing inside me, threatening to split me open. I clenched fistfuls of a couch pillow and moaned. He insisted, “It’s now or never, Avery. Three, two—“

“Do it,” I hissed.

“Good boy,” he exhaled, chewing on my ear as he sank his hips down. I howled at the girth of member as it forced its way down my slick passage. My body squeezed him, desperately resisting, but his meat slid ever deeper until I was shaking in his arms with every last inch buried. I could barely breathe as I felt his trousers rub against my ass. “Just relax,” he groaned, voice shaking with pleasure, “daddy’s got you.”

“You feel so fucking good, Avery,” he grunted, kissing the side of my neck as his arms encircled my chest in an inescapable hug. “Every time you squeeze me, I feel myself gush a bunch of precum right in there. It’s so fuckin’ hot.”

I nodded in breathless agreement, squirming beneath him as my body stretched wide around his manhood. I was rock hard against the couch, dripping untouched on the leather. I whimpered when he shifted, grinding his hips against me.

“I can’t hold back anymore, boy,” he growled apologetically, “I’ve been waiting all week for this.” Mike started rocking his weight back and forth atop me, sliding his fat cock along my insides. His thrusts started shallow, but grew successively deeper until the man was pummeling my body with his own. His clothes dampened with sweat and his breaths grew sharper until we were moaning in a chorus of ecstasy.

My naked body beneath his suited one, smothered in his inescapable embrace, I was overcome by the sheer power of the beast atop me—the absolute dominance of a man who took everything he had after being given nothing. Such was his hunger that he’d gone from being the second son of a farmer to the grunting conqueror of my castle atop the world. He was unlike any man I’d ever known, and even then I knew I’d never be able to get enough of him.

He gave my ass a resounding slap and groaned, “This is mine now. Isn’t it, boy?”

“Fuck,” I whimpered, the struck flesh burning red with the thick shapes of his fingers. I shook in his arms, his girth rubbing my prostate with every thrust, and whispered, “I-I’m cumming.” He sank down onto me, hilting his member inside, and chewed at my neck as I moaned and painted the couch with my orgasm.

“That’s so fucking incredible,” he breathed into my ear, “making you cum like this.” He jabbed his shaft into me for emphasis. “Nothing but a nice, fat cock making you moan like a bitch.” I panted, catching my breath as he licked at my ear. “Do you want my load, Avery?”

He could have forced himself upon me. He could have bounced his burly body atop me until my insides were drenched with his seed. But he wanted to hear it. His voice shook with a desire so intense it scared him. He needed to hear it.

I turned my head to look up into his steaming, ice-blue eyes and parted my lips to exhale, “Yes.”

He smiled a raw, joyous smile. He was bold enough not to hide behind bravado, but to instead bare his desires with a demanding intensity that I couldn’t begin to resist. He let me give myself to him.

Mike lifted himself up, the rush of air arctic in contrast with the smoldering heat of his body, and pounded my ass like no other man ever had. With his every thrust, my insides squeezed the buried manhood and begged it to breed me. His breaths grew heavier, huskier, until a low growl rumbled in his throat until it was a roar. Those eyes, flickering in the dim light, shut as his senses were overloaded with ecstasy. With one last lunge, his muscles tensed and bulk trembled.

Thunderous jets of jizz roared down his shaft and exploded inside as Mike collapsed down on me, letting shallow, instinctive thrusts of his hips bury his seed deeper until I was flooded with his potency. Hot blasts of his breath rushed over my neck as he grunted and groaned with every pulsating expulsion from his member. His hands encircled me once more, pinning me against him as his body emptied every last drop into its eager vessel.

Finally, he loosened his iron grip around me, and for a moment, I panicked at the notion of not feeling this man against me. But he merely let out a long, slow exhale and rolled onto his side, pulling me along with him as his still-hard cock remained lodged within me.

“That was unreal,” I whispered. He was silent, lips nuzzled against my neck. I went on, “I’ve never felt anything like that. It was just so…” I could hear nothing but his deep breaths. “Like our bodies were made for each other. Sorry, that’s corny. But you were just really good, and… I hope you liked it too.” After a long pause, I asked, “Mike… did you?”

Mike said nothing for a moment that felt like minutes, but finally he squeezed me tight against his chest and whispered in my ear, “Sorry, yes. I did. But, Avery…” his deep voice trembled, “…I think I love you.”

“Merged Under the Table“ (Avery POV) Start | Previous | Next

For our second date, Mike was a gentleman. He picked the restaurant—Italian, classic and upscale. He met me in my lobby with a warm smile and a genial hug. He held the door for me and lowered his voice to a whisper, “Ladies first.” He called the Uber, a black car I was sure he didn’t normally splurge on. He ordered our drinks, our appetizers, our meals, and grabbed the check before I could even say a word.

He walked me to my door, his heavy jacket draped over my shoulders in the cold wind racing down the city streets. And he kissed me goodnight. A long, overwhelming collision between our lips that left me panting when he squeezed my shoulder, grinned, and headed back down the elevator. It was a surreal evening that left me aching desirously as I stepped inside my palatial apartment.

But at the office, he was unchanged.

“You got that, Avery?” Mike barked, waking me from a daydream in the middle of our team meeting in a bright and airy glass conference room at the center of our bustling office.

I chirped, “Yes, sir, I’ll get right on it.” The guys all chuckled at my obvious inattention, but the icy gaze Mike fixed on me quickly quieted them. It was difficult even to imagine the warm smile from the night before on his stern face.

“Pay fucking attention,” he spoke in a low, even voice that was all the more gripping. “Your daddy’s money might have gotten you in the door, but I’ll kick your ass right out if you don’t make yourself useful.”

Mike went back to the meeting, smiling and bright, as if that little diversion had never happened, but my heart raced with terror as I sat there wishing I could disappear. The rest of the team pretended not to notice, but I could feel their glances at every opportunity.

As he dismissed us, Mike growled, “Stay back a minute, Avery.” My cheeks must have looked like ripe red tomatoes as the rest of the guys passed me with pitying looks on their way out.

Mike stared at me, his face inscrutable, for a long moment before he said, “I don’t want to be an asshole, but I know you can do better.”

“Sorry,” I said with an awkward smile, “I was just thinking about last night.”

“Hah,” Mike snorted. “I hoped you’d spend all night thinking about me after that kiss. I had to hold my coat in front of me so your doorman wouldn’t see how hard I was on my way out.”

I chewed my lip and grinned at him as I asked, “Did you… take care of it when you got home?”

Mike answered so readily it felt like a trap had been sprung. “In fact, I didn’t. And I’ve been half-hard in all my meetings this morning.” After glancing about to make sure nobody was watching, he pushed his chair back a few inches so I could see the enormous tent in his suit pants. “I booked the room for another half hour since I need to make a few calls. Care to make yourself useful, Avery?”

“In here?” I gulped nervously.

“Don’t be coy,” he chided. “I can see your mouth watering from here. You’re going to get under the table and spend the next half hour seeing how many loads you can suck out of me. Got it?”

I let out a sharp exhale and nodded, whispering, “Got it, sir.” Despite the openness of the room, the underside of the long conference table was like a tunnel between us, its legs just solid slabs of wood on either side. I waited for a moment when no one was walking by and slipped under as Mike grunted in delight and picked up his phone.

He spread his thighs wide as I shuffled along the floor until I was kneeling between his feet, hidden from the rest of the world. As I fiddled with his zipper, he suddenly spoke into his phone, “Hey, Rob. I just wanted to catch up on our progress with the Cynesis merger. You have a few minutes?”

As Mike paused, his cock plunged out his open fly and filled my nostrils with the masculine scent of his boxers. “Great,” he chirped. “Just get right to it then.” He reached a hand under the table and wagged his fat cock down at me, splattering my nose with precum when his tip touched to it. I gasped with excitement and pushed forward to wrap my lips around him.

He let out a little groan, struggling to suppress it, and grunted in response to the other line’s concern, “Sorry, no, go on.” I eagerly pushed my lips down the length of his shaft, engulfing him in the warmth of my mouth as it burned for him. Buckets of precum gushed out his mushroom head onto my tongue and down my throat like an endless river. “That’s great,” Mike said, his voice even again, “and do you expect those conditions to change significantly once Q1 reporting is in?”

I ran my tongue all along the underbelly of his fat manhood, sending spasms of pleasure through his body. He stifled the sounds of his ecstasy, but it just felt like a challenge. I wanted to drive him mad, so mad the man on the other line couldn’t mistake the groans for anything but the signs of a man being pleasured the way he deserved. I wanted to make Mike an object of envy, a man so powerful and well-served that others would wish to be like him. And my mouth pursued that goal with an endless ferocity.

“Fantastic,” Mike said, voice strained as took him deep into my throat, “I think this is going to be a big win. Do you need anything from my team to move forward?”

I fucked myself on his cock beneath the table, head bumping up against it with rhythmic thumps, and he held the receiver aside as he gasped and tensed in his chair. “Sure thing. I have just the guy to help you out. Real eager. He’ll swallow anything you throw at him.”

With an instinctive thrust of his hips, he offered me the chance to prove it. Mike’s cock swelled and shot out thick jets of cum straight down my throat until I pulled back a little and he spurted all over my tongue. Above me, Mike let out a telltale groan and chuckled at something said on the other line.

“Oh yeah,” Mike said apologetically, “I guess HR would frown on that kinda figure of speech these days, huh?” He pushed me back down his cock once I’d gulped down mouthfuls of his seed, lodging himself in my throat. “Right? A man can hardly be a man anymore with all this sensitivity. We should grab drinks next time you’re in New York. I could show you a great time.”

“Great,” he said after a pause, his member pulsing inside me, “well thanks again for the update. I’ll have Avery get in touch as soon as he’s finished with a load of work I just dropped on him.” With a beep, he hung up and let out a relieved exhale. “Fuck, boy, that was pretty damn hot, huh?” His heavy hand on the back of my head kept me from pulling back to reply. He just went on, “Three more calls to go, so I hope you’re not tired. Just think how good it’ll feel when I get this big dick inside you after our next date. But until then, you can be my little conference call cocksucker.”

My jaw ached by the time the last call was finished, but I’d managed to coax out three sizable loads. It turned out to be enough that I just skipped lunch and caught up on some work. Mike expected me to be better, and I would be.

Hey all,

Since I’ve had a lot of people express interest in getting my ebook since it’s no longer accessible due to payment processor issues, I’ve decided to launch a pay-what-you-want Patreon that will include the PDF and EPUB versions of Too Steamy for Tumblr, the compilation of my stories that were lost in the tumblr purge, as one of the benefits.

Check out my Patreon and get my Too Steamy for Tumblr ebook

I’ve been a bit lapsed on writing my long-form stories lately, but I intend to pick that back up and put them up there first from now on. My stories will go up on Tumblr a little bit later, but patrons will get to see them first and I’ll probably focus more on chapter-based stories rather than one-offs.

For starters, I posted the second chapter of my “From Boss to Boyfriend” story as a patrons-only timed exclusive, since I had a number of people specifically request a continuation to that little tale. You can still read chapter one for free of course.

Anyway, if you missed the ebook it’s an easy way to get it. If you’re just going to do a month and cancel to get the book, I’d ask that you do $5 but I didn’t feel like setting up tiers was worthwhile for the kind of content I produce.

“Mr. and Mr. Jonathan Brewer,” the invitation read. A shiver ran down my spine.

He didn’t make me take his name. He didn’t urge or pressure me, but I knew he wanted it. When he asked, I just smiled and answered, “I’d love to, Jon.”

His grin—lips curling over rows of shining white teeth at the center of his handsome face—had been worth it. He’d leaned in and kissed me, holding my head tight in his weathered hands as I admiringly ran my fingers through his thick, gray hair. We tore at each other’s clothes until he was buried inside me, whispering hotly against my neck, “Emery Brewer has a nice ring to it.” I nodded, voice lost to moans.

It was a pleasant memory. And just a few months later, I’d shrunk from ‘Mr. Emery Evans’ down to a spare ‘Mr.’ beside my husband’s. He was the sort of man who always felt larger than life to begin with, but it was unsettling to see the difference between us in print. He was a husband to me, but I belonged to him, changed as surely as a Ms. becomes a Mrs.

My phone buzzed on the kitchen counter.

Jon Brewer: What’s for dinner tonight? Me: Want to order a pizza? Jon Brewer: Aww, I could use a home-cooked meal Me: Oh. Rough day? Jon Brewer: Yes Jon Brewer: Settlement falling apart, may have to fly to NY tomorrow Me: Poor baby 😭 Jon Brewer: I know! Grill some steaks for dinner Me: I don’t think we have any Jon Brewer: Then go get some, husband 😉 Me: Lol, ok Jon Brewer: Good boy 😘I’ll try to be home by 7:30. Be ready… Me: Ok, love you Jon Brewer: Love you too

When I put the phone down, my face was still flushed tomato red. I tended to cook for us, and for a long time I told myself it was just because I got home earlier—As a therapist, I usually scheduled appointments between 8:00 am and 4:00 pm with a break for lunch, whereas Jon was frequently stuck at the firm late into the evening—but even on weekends he’d kick back with a beer and grin while I prepared his lunch for him. 

Back when we were dating, he’d encouraged me to take classes and offered to pay for them. Frankly, I enjoyed cooking and Jon’s generous compliments when I made something delicious. But he’d never been demanding about it before.

He was just teasing, I told myself over and over as I drove to the store. Yet I knew he wasn’t. Along with the steak, I picked up some sweet potatoes and asparagus, some of Jon’s favorites to round out the meal. I timed it out so dinner would be ready at 7:30 on the dot, but he walked in the door a few minutes early.

“Hello,” he said, in his trademark booming voice, from the entryway as he shifted off his jacket and hat, dropping his keys in the bowl.

“Hey,” I raised my quiet voice, “did you survive the rest of the day?”

“Barely,” he huffed as he walked into the kitchen, where I stood over the sizzling stove. I smiled, deftly adjusting the asparagus in the skillet. He came up behind, wrapping his burly arms around me as his broad chest and slight gut pressed to my back through his suit. “I’m starving,” he breathed into my ear, teasing, “I thought I said to be ready when I got home.”

“You said 7:30,” I laughed, easing my slender body back against him as his strong fingers grasped at my chest through my buttoned shirt.

He chuckled, took a deep breath through his nose, and purred, “Mmmmm. What would I do without you?” Against my ass, I felt him stiffening and I couldn’t help but rub back against it. “Oh,” he sighed, “you’re such a tease.” He lowered his hands to my hips and pushed his bulge against me. “Let me have a taste.”

I carefully lifted a slice of sweet potato up on the spatula and tipped it onto his waiting tongue. He chewed loudly before a gulp and a satisfied sigh as he humped against me. “My husband is the best cook in the world,” Jon declared as he unbuckled my belt. “But I think I’d like you to start cooking naked.”

“Is that so?” I giggled as my jeans dropped down around my ankles, struggling to reach the steak as he pushed my briefs down.

“Yes,” Jon growled, “I don’t want anything between me and this ass.” He pushed a finger between my smooth butt cheeks and made me squirm in his embrace. “It’s mine now, after all.”

“Yours?” I asked, smirking back at him.

He grinned and nodded, “You like that?”

“I don’t know…”

“Come on, babe,” he insisted, pushing his thick index finger past my sphincter to make me gasp. “I need this.” I moaned when he pushed deeper, which he took as agreement. “Yeah, give me that tight ass, Emery. The smell of that steak is making me so horny.”

“I have to finish it,” I whispered the excuse, not certain I wanted him to listen as he spat down on his fingers and shoved another one inside me.

He pressed tight against me and rasped in my ear, “You vowed to obey me.” It had just been part of the vows, one sentence among many, but I remembered it clearly. He said, “And you have been. I tell you to keep the house clean, and you do. I tell you to rub my feet, and you do. I tell you to cook me a steak, and you do. And now, I tell you to give me that ass…”

His fingers slid out and pulled down his zipper, freeing his rigid, thick cock for just a moment before it sank between my cheeks and made me howl. I cried out, “Oh god, Jon,” planting my hands on the edge of the stove.

“That’s it,” he groaned in my ear, “you’re my obedient little husband, aren’t you?” His fingers tore at my shirt, popping off buttons as he pulled it off and threw it aside so I was naked before him. He held my hips and pushed forward, sinking eight inches of flesh into me until the fabric of his suit pants pressed to my smooth cheeks. “Daddy’s gonna breed you, boy.”

I moaned and howled as he pummeled his body against mine. With a struggle, I managed to turn down the burners to salvage dinner. Jon pressed his lips to my neck and kissed my sensitive skin, squeezing it between his teeth as he rutted at my surrendering hole. 

He felt different that night, but not unfamiliar, like a man who had been living just beneath the Jon I knew and slowly surfacing. But I couldn’t bring myself to deny that I liked him. He pounded me fiercely, slamming deep into my insides, without touching my own rigid, dripping dick. And when I tried to reach a hand down, Jon snarled and grabbed my wrist to stop me.

“None of that, Emery,” he scolded breathlessly, “you’ll cum from daddy’s cock or nothing.” I obeyed, squeezing my fingers into the steel stove as my husband’s cock plowed through the tightness of my hole and forced me open. He put a hand on the back of my neck and bent me forward as he pulled my hips back, steadying himself as he hastened his thrusts.

“Jon,” I whined as he eagerly rubbed his thick knob to my prostate, “I’m gonna—” My arms and legs trembled as I squirmed in his grasp. A stream of thin precum drizzled from my dick onto the floor, milked by my husband’s meaty member. I leaned my head back against his hand and let out a loud, uncontrollable moan as Jon grinned, sensing victory near, and pummeled my insides in a frenzy until I spewed all over the oven door to his delight.

“Fuck yeah,” Jon rasped behind me. “Daddy’s big dick made you cum. Didn’t it, slut?” He squeezed my neck roughly in his coarse fingers and leaned forward to press his lips to my ear. As he did, his cock sank to the hilt inside me and my orgasming body squeezed his shaft wildly. Buried deep, he growled against me and began a series of hasty, shallow thrusts until he practically roared in my ear.

“Here it comes, boy,” my husband exclaimed as his balls tightened. He pumped his hips forward one last time as his shaft swelled and burst deep inside me. His thick cum sprayed in ropes against the walls of my ass until it was threatening to drip out if it weren’t for the tight grasp of my sphincter around the base of his shaft. 

I graze my fingers through his thick chest hair, tugging on tufts of gray as I tease, “Super serum didn’t do much about the aging process, huh?” He’s lying back in bed, hands folded behind his head, and I’ve draped myself across him with a cheek nuzzled into his muscled shoulder.

John tilted his chin down and rolled his eyes at me. “Paint’s scratched, but the engine’s as good as new,” he insisted, squeezing to make his still-hard member pulse. “And you didn’t seem to mind my performance.” We both laughed, cool air running over the rope of cum he’d painted across my cheeks, the rest still warm inside me.

“You seem to have a bit of excess fuel,” I smirked as I reached down and slapped his rounded gut. “They say the TV adds ten pounds, and still I’ve never seen a belly on Captain—”

He sternly interrupted, “You promised to stop mentioning him.”

“Sorry,” I smiled, but it wasn’t hard to tell when John was bothered. I slid over into his lap, straddling him and squeezing his firm length between my cheeks. “Don’t pout, John, you know I can’t resist you when you pout.” I wriggled my butt back against him with a smirk until he couldn’t hold his grimace any longer.

“Good god, boy,” John exclaimed, hands blurring with speed as he brought them down to hold me in place with all the strength of a stone wall suddenly stopping me. “You are incorrigible.”

“Can you blame me?” I asked, leaning forward to lightly press my lips to his. “I’m all alone in bed with my handsome boyfriend, who happens to be a goddamn superhero. How am I supposed to keep my hands off you?”

He sighed, “I’m just a normal guy.”

“Right—a normal guy who can lift my BMW over his head without breaking a sweat,” I laughed, but he didn’t. I planted my hands back on his chest and lifted myself just a few inches from his face. “Is that why you didn’t tell me for so long?” I asked.

He forced an unconvincing smile and said, “I just liked what we had, Isaac.”

We stared at each other for a moment, uncertain what to say, but in his arms I never felt uncomfortable. I buried my face against his shoulder and said, “It hasn’t changed, John. You were my hero since the day we met, and it just turns out I’ll have to share you.”

His burly arms coiled around me, pressing my body against his warm chest, and he teased, “Not if you never let me out of bed.” He rolled his hips to rub his leaky head back against my still-stretched hole. He made me moan.

I could hardly see a thing as I made my way through the dim light of the club’s back room. The thumping music bled through the walls, but hardly muffled the chorus of masculine moans filling this small space. I slumped back into an available spot on a black leather sofa, beside a man with the dim shape of a head bouncing in his lap.

He turned toward me and grinned, reaching a hand down to push that bobbing shape until it sputtered and gagged on his manhood. We shared a chuckle at his mild show of force, a little display to establish ourselves as alike. I sat back with my legs wide, sprawling an arm along the couch behind the man as my other hand rested on my belly, wedding ring glinting gold like a lighthouse for men who couldn’t resist a bit of married white man cock.

I idly pressed my fingers into my compatriot’s opposite shoulder, sitting close as I enjoyed the show he put on for me. He grabbed his sucker’s head in both hands and used his throat like a toy, forcing him up and down that seemingly sizable shaft. It was a nice little performance, and the guy was probably pushing fifty like me, but it obviously hadn’t slowed him down either. “Man or woman?” He rasped, nodding to my ring.

“Woman,” I proudly replied.

“Fuck, man,” he whispered, before shouting, “someone get this straight guy a mouth on his cock!” The room collectively chuckled with apathetic disbelief. It was a common lie, I’d learned, but I didn’t mind what they thought. Still, more than a few men hastened to be the one who took the vacant space between my thighs. I nodded my approval at the first and he became the victor.

He was cute, a short and slender asian man with submissive smile on his full lips. “How old are you?” I asked.

“Twenty-two, sir,” he whispered over the slurping sound of my new buddy’s sucker beside him. I squeezed my bulge happily. Less than half my age and already calling me sir, we would get along just fine.

“Then go ahead and service daddy’s cock, you little queer,” I teased, testing the waters. It wasn’t in my nature to speak like that to anyone, at least not since high school, but I’d learned that these fellas seemed to enjoy it as long as you let them slurp on your penis while you spoke. He smiled delightedly, all the permission I needed.

I grinned at my buddy beside me, and he watched with great interest as my cocksucker’s trembling little hands lifted my gut to unbuckle my belt and undo my jeans. I wasn’t fat, but I did have a pretty classic dadbod—tree trunks for arms and legs, a muscled barrel for a chest, and a warm bowling ball for a belly. My buddy’s eyes went wide and my boy gasped when he finally managed to fish my manhood out of my boxers.

Eight inches of thick, meaty, and musky manhood still completely soft as it flopped down on my denim-clad thigh. “You like that, boy?” I growled, staring at my buddy, but rubbing my boy’s soft cheek with my wide, coarse fingers. Even the head in my buddy’s lap paused to steal a look before continuing its work.

“Yes, sir,” my cocksucker exclaimed before engulfing my meat with his mouth. With my hand moved to the back of his head, he took me all the way down into his throat and gagged on my soft member. 

I lifted my hand from my buddy’s shoulder to his neck, squeezing him there with subtle dominance and half-expecting him to stop me. But he didn’t, he nuzzled back at my hand. I grew between my boy’s lips, holding him firmly as his jaw steadily stretched open and I snaked deep down his throat. “Good boy,” I whispered to the both of them.

At the apex of my enlargement, I dragged my cocksucker’s lips back up the long length of my manhood and let everyone who cared to see feast their eyes on the towering pillar of meat, gushing pre-cum up from its swollen head like a fountain. With a sideways glance, I saw my buddy gazing down in awe. “Taste it,” I growled commandingly and pushed him down by his neck until his lips were smacking centimeters from my tip.

His tongue touched first, lapping up a mouthful of my milky brew, and I moaned, “That’s it. Make daddy feel good.” With steady, unyielding pressure, I lowered his face into my lap until his lips were stretched wide and he was gagging. I forced the guy on his knees down to my heavy, churning nuts and rubbed his smooth face into them until he started licking and worshiping. 

Fingertips pressed into my shoulders, an unseen man standing behind me, and I rolled my neck from side to side to let the tension drain. I let my hands relax, draped over my belly, and enjoyed the moment. My deep voice filled their ears as they lavished their lips over my shaft and sack. “Good boys. The Mrs. never treats me this well anymore.”

Truth be told, my wife treated me just fine, but these guys loved hearing how they were sating a married straight man’s hunger. It was a fun part to play, nonetheless. I was getting close already, balls tightening against my body so the guy had to press his face right into me just to keep licking them.

My buddy didn’t know what was coming until too late, until my hands closed down on his neck and his skull. “Swallow it all,” I snarled as I pushed him down and bucked my hips up. My monstrous member flexed between his lips as it gushed mouthfuls of my seed into the moaning man. He was cumming in his own sucker’s mouth, I didn’t doubt, but my flood overtook him, drizzling out his tight-clenched lips down to whet my other boy’s appetite.

All the while, I wasn’t shy about advertising my delight. I groaned and growled, my barrel chest swelling up with satisfaction. When he finally gulped down the last of my gushes, I let my buddy come up for air and he gasped, “Holy shit, man. That was hot.”

I grinned down at him in the dark and said, “You’ve got a good mouth, buddy.” Glancing down at my irked sucker on his knees, I added, “Both of you.” I grabbed him by his chin, wedding ring digging into his jaw, and guided his mouth back to my cock as I whispered, “Now keep sucking until I’m ready for round two, boy.”