Just a bunch of stuff that I like

“Uh—okay,” I agreed hesitantly, taking his feet into my hands, not realizing that his next request would have me walking funny for days.

Ever since I was a kid, it had been a favorite summer ritual to spend a few weeks at my Aunt Loretta’s house. Her husband Bruce largely ignored me, not knowing what to do with a somewhat effeminate boy who had no place in the über-masculine world that he occupied. And to be fair, the only interest I had in Bruce was the massive bulge between his legs.

But things changed the summer I turned eighteen. Uncle Bruce was suddenly, and perhaps predatorily, affectionate towards me. He started calling me “big guy.” He would tell me dirty jokes about slutty women, winking and mussing up my hair while I laughed obligingly. Bruce would also come up behind me at the breakfast table and give me a quick back rub, his hands grazing the top of my ass while working my lower back.

And then came the night when he barged into the bathroom while I took a bath, quickly closing the door behind him. With my body barely covered by a foamy inch of water, Bruce eyed me up and down—a wolf about to devour his prey.

“Mind if I join you, big guy?” he asked, pulling off his shirt and stripping off his shorts, his hairy cock flopped against his muscular thigh. “I could really use a soak.”

“W—where’s Aunt Loretta?” I stammered, my eyes fixated on his hairy body.

“Passed out in bed,” he winked. “She’s like the sleeping dead after four glasses of Merlot and an Ambien.”

Breaking the ice, he asked me to rub his feet. I nervously complied, unable to believe that I was sharing a bath with Bruce. Was he into me? Would he want to fuck me? The answers to those questions came quickly.

“You seem tense, big guy,” Bruce observed as I worked on his feet.

“I’m—I’m okay,” I answered, massaging his soles while he writhed in pleasure, his cock growing to a rigid eight inches between his hairy legs. “I’m not tense.”

“No. I can tell that you’re tense,” he insisted. “Turn around. Let me rub your back for you.”

Following orders, I propped myself up and leaned over the back of the tub, my back and ass presented to Bruce. On his knees behind me, the water sloshing about in the tub, he went straight to work, his hands digging into my shoulders.

“How’s this feel, big guy?” Bruce asked while working his magic down my spine, his strong hands kneading my muscles, driving me wild.

“Awesome,” I exhaled, melting to his touch.

“And how ‘bout this?” he prompted, the tip of his hard cock suddenly pressed against my virgin hole. “Does this feel good?”

“Uh huh,” I nodded.

“You want this cock inside you, big guy?” he whispered in my ear, his beard scratching my cheek as he pressed his body into me. “You want this big cock up your ass?”

“Yes,” I pleaded, years of pent-up desire for him releasing. “Fucking give me that big dick.”

Given the green light, Bruce wasted no time. With his hands digging into my shoulders for purchase, Bruce shoved his big cock up my ass. No lube. No spit. Just some soapy suds coating his thick shaft.

“FUCK,” I screamed, my virgin hole ripped apart as he plunged into my uncharted depths.

“Shhh,” he hissed in my ear, silencing me with his hand across my mouth. “Keep it down.”

I nodded solemnly as he released his hand, returning his attention to destroying my hole. I had always imagined my first time would be different. Maybe a boyfriend. Definitely a bed. The sex would be painless—hours of bliss. Instead, I got my hairy Uncle Bruce, in a bath tub, my hole on fire as he delivered a quick pump and dump with his huge cock. But, honestly, it felt fucking amazing.

“Fuck me,” I moaned, reveling in the joy of having a dick inside me for the first time. “Your big cock feels so good.”

“Yeah? I wish your Aunt Loretta felt the same,” he slapped my ass with his open palm as he proceeded to defile me, his wet balls smacking my hole rhythmically. “I’d rather have your tight hole than her baggy cunt, anyways.”

“Have you fucked a lot of guys?” I asked, my question ignored as my uncle reached climax.

“Get ready for it,” Bruce urgently announced after barely three minutes of thrusting deep inside me, the bath water sloshing out of the tub.

“Yeah, breed me,” I begged, like every bottom I’d ever seen in the gay porn on my phone.

“FUCK—SHIT,” Bruce grunted, releasing his seed in my hole, a deluge of warmth in my depths. I could feel his cock throbbing within me. He pulled out as soon as it stopped.

“Damn, I needed that,” he exhaled as he rose from the tub, a drop of pearly cum dangling from the tip of his cock before cannonballing into the soapy bath water.

“That was hot as fuck,” I exhaled, turning myself over in the tub, a virgin no more. “I loved when you—”

“Clean yourself up and get dried off,” Bruce cut me off, throwing a towel at me. “I want to find you ass up on your bed in five minutes for round two. This fuckin’ bath tub is a nightmare on my knees.”

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

Henry got in a fight with his girlfriend last night. In anger he yelled, “I wish I could just be with someone more like me!” His girlfriend stormed out angrily telling him to go fuck himself.

When Henry awoke the next morning, there was a man who looked just like him sitting in the window sill. It had to be a prank, he thought. Someone that his now ex girlfriend hired to mess with him. But this man looked exactly like him. It wasn’t possible, especially on such short notice.

Snapping him out of his trance, the man who was scrolling his phone and playing with his growing bulge asked, “Babe, I’m getting horny, can we fuck?”

“Fuck you man, suck my dick,” said Henry still thinking that this was some sort of conspiracy.

“Okay,” said the mysterious man coming over presumably to give Henry the blowjob which he facetiously asked for.

“But you really should be nicer to your boyfriend,” said the man as he was on his hands and knees pulling down Henry’s tighty whities.

Henry’s cock grew hard. He’d gotten blown by men before, not that he’d ever told his recent girlfriend that. He could deal with the fact that this guy thought they were boyfriends after about a half an hour when he would bust his nut down the stranger’s throat.

The man identical to Henry was giving him the best blowjob of his life. Sure, he knew men were better at it in general, but it was like this guy knew *exactly* how he liked it. It was a little creepy but it was such a good blow, Henry didn’t give a fuck. The lookalike was playing with his own hard cock as he serviced Henry. ‘Whatever makes you happy faggot,’ thought Henry.

As he was getting closer to cumming, the imposter man got up and threw Henry face down on the bed. Henry was about to object when he felt the man’s tongue start lapping at his hole hungrily. He barely stifled a moan. None of Henry’s ex girlfriends had ever eaten his booty before, and apparently he liked it a lot. The man’s beard felt so good and despite himself, Henry closed his eyes and couldn’t help but smile mouth agape and moan.

The mystery man worked Henry over for a while and then threw himself on the bed on his back, reached and grabbed his own feet to present his underwear clad ass to Henry, behging in a good boy boice,

“Now can I have what I want?”

What was Henry doing entertaining this fag? He should be kicking the weirdo out of his apartment. But his cock raged from all of the foreplay with this stranger.. And he had to admit, the man’s white cotton covered ass was intriguingly enticing. Before he could second guess his own actions, Henry scrambled for the lube in his nightstand drawer. The clone removed his undies and prepared to be fucked.

Henry stuck his meaty veiny erection into the stranger’s fuzzy bottom. The walls were so tight. It was nothing like fucking a vagina. He knew he wouldn’t last long after so much foreplay and with such a tight unfamiliar hole, so he began fucking him hard and fast. The doppelgänger could see that Henry wasn’t going to last long, so he started furiously masturbating his own dick. The two moaned in different tones with identical voices. One distinctly the moans of a man being fucked.

As Henry got close to climax he began making out with the man. This action surprised him, but the man didn’t seem surprised at all, as if they had made out a million times. He forced his tongue down the stranger’s throat even though his mouth tasted like Henry’s own cock. He came hard and then felt the man’s spray his load all over both of their stomachs and chests.

I had chores, even though I was now 20 years old and whenever he did his work from home zoom meetings I was required to be monitoring my cell phone as he might need me to fetch him something, like papers from his desk or even just a drink because he got thirsty. I knew it was a power move but I could deal with it. Playing fetch for him was a hell of a lot cheaper than paying rent along with utilities and groceries.

I got the chance to actually go have an interview for a clerk position for a publishing firm downtown, which just happen to focus on porn, and I was pumped. I mean, working at a smut center was the ultimate dream job to a young guy with a constant hormonal imbalance.

The only problem was that the day after I got the appointment, dad let me know that he would need me to be home for a zoom meeting with his bosses. When I told him I had plans, he asked if these plans included looking for an apartment? I just shook my head and went on my way.

I had to interview so I came up with a plan. I would get Gary to come over and monitor my phone for me so I could interview. I got to talk with the smut brothers and dad still got to be important. What could go wrong?

On the day of my interview, dad got set up and ten minutes into his meeting, I left out to my interview. I assumed that things were going fine since I had to leave my phone at home with Gary. The interview went swimmingly and I not only got the job but also a guided walk through the center along with a welcome package of five magazines of my choice.

As I pulled into our driveway, I was surprised to see that dad was still in his home office in front of his laptop. I had been gone for at least three hours with my successful interview and his zoom meetings rarely go over an hour. I hope that Gary found the snacks in the kitchen as he must be starving by now.

I grabbed my sack of reading material and headed inside to find my best bud looking a little worn out. Somewhere between the time I left and returned, he had lost his T-shirt and there looked like something had dried across his upper chest.

I asked him if everything was okay after apologizing for how long Dad's meeting had gone. He just gave me a lost look with a sneaky grin. He replied that he didn't mind being Daddy's personal assistant. Daddy? What the hell happened while I was out?

Just then I heard the loud buzzing from my phone, telling me that someone just texted. I looked at my phone to see a message from Dad stating that he accidentally dropped a very important paper onto the floor. Could I be a blessing and come retrieve it for him?

Well hell, if his meeting was still going he's probably madder than a wet hen and likely irritable to boot. I told Gary to sit still as he'd done a lot for me already. Then I did the standard tap on the door and went into Dad's office. He was sitting at his table overlooking the backyard with his eyes focused on his screen. As I stepped around the table quietly I looked down to fetch the papers. That's when I saw it.

Dad was sitting there all dressed for success with his business shirt on with his headset on to keep the ambient noise to a minimum. As I bent over to fetch the paper that must be under the table, I saw that the shirt was just window dressing as below he wasn't wearing anything. Freaky bastard!!

I then typed into my phone a message... Where's the papers?

He looked up with a start and smiled. Then he typed back that he hadn't actually dropped them. He was hoping that he'd get one more blowjob from Gary. The guy has a mouth like a dream. He's already swallowed two loads. Would've been three but he underestimated the volume of your Dad's cum blasts.

When he came in the first time I was taken aback that it wasn't you. But the way his eyes stayed on me seeing how I was wearing just underwear and the shirt. I figured I might be in luck. I slid my shorts off before texting him again about a dropped paper and the effort received the best head I had gotten in years.

He stood behind my screen with shrugged shoulders as I pointed down with my hand off to the side. I heard his gasp then felt a warm moisture as his lips combined around my knob. His mouth was so intense in its efforts to swallow my nut I almost said something out loud. It became a real challenge not to give myself away to the board members as your friend actually deep throated my dick. As Mr. Dawson was reciting a few clauses from a contract that the board was considering signing I gave a low cough as I shot off into Gary's suctioning mouth. My coughs covered the noise of my grunting as well as the noise from Gary sputtering below my table.

I apologized for the outburst from me to the board and Dawson continued his reading of the addenda. Meanwhile Gary crawled out from under the table and he looked like he'd been through a typhoon. He had cum all over his face and shirt covering a wild eyed stare that couldn't be mistaken for anything but pure lust. I didn't think you had any gay friends but I can safely say that Gary is.

A half hour later I texted that I needed a drink. Gary typed back coffee, water, coke? I knew I was in luck as he hadn't left. I wrote water was fine and two minutes later I heard the knock followed by the door opening. The glass of water was set down beside my laptop and I saw a shadow slide down under my station. I was happily surprised as round two began and the tight lips once again wrapped around my shaft.

Just then Old Man Jenkins asked for my assessment of the Withers Project and I complied by pulling up my prepared slides and talked to the board about my perceptions of the proposal submitted by their firm. I ended it with endorsing their proposal while nutting down your friend's throat. This time was much smoother as he was a little better prepared.

He then stood up with a smirk on his face as he wiped the spit from his chin and left. That was the best presentation I had ever given and I hoped at least one person figured out I was nutting in someone off screen.

When I said I could use his help again, he replied okay but this time mute the call, Daddy. Daddy, huh, well all right!! I had the call muted as the door opened and Gary entered. He didn't even stop to pantomime anything. He just went to the other side of the table from me and made a todo about dropping his pants before dropping to his knees and backing up to me. I felt his lightly hairy ass cheeks bump against my open legs moments before his lubed hole smacked against my erection. Yes!!

I felt the tight pucker push around the head of my meaty pole as his ring gave way and slid over my cock. Jesus Christ!! It was all I could do to keep a neutral face as his tight ass captured my seasoned prong and began sliding onto it.

I could hear him groaning as my dick slid in further then I felt his ass underneath my balls as I slid the rest of the way in. Fortunately the chair was wrapping up his remarks so I wouldn't be expected to add anything to his comments. I just nodded a lot and looked supportive. I hadn't gotten laid in weeks and even longer since I fucked a tight ass. This was something out of a highly erotic fantasy. My hands slowly made their way under the table as my ass slid down in my chair to facilitate fucking your friend.

As I could feel my impending eruption, I grasped Gary around the waist and gave a couple thrusts under the table, causing him to grunt loudly before my balls unleashed another volley of Daddy cum right up his backside. I felt the cool room air surround my shaft as Gary slid forward off my crank. He stood and made a show of sliding up his drawers as my boss was concluding the meeting and thanking everyone for remaining attentive until the end.

I texted a question to dad. Is it over now? He just grinned and texted that he's been sitting here with a boner trying to figure out a way for one more blowjob. Do me a solid and don't let on to Gary that I'm done, huh?

I just grinned as I walked back out of the room. When I got to the kitchen table I saw Gary sitting there with a guilty look on his used face. I just said 'Slut' and grinned. He mocked indignation before asking me why I never mentioned that my Dad was so fucking virile? Big cock and shoots a fucking blast of cum. I just grinned as I told him that Dad was asking for his services one last time as Jenkins is wrapping things up in there.

Gary gave me a sarcastic glance. Jenkins is my uncle. He's been done with that meeting for over an hour. He told me to mute him as the other board members were laughing at his groans each time I blew him.

As he stood, he rubbed his belly and said that he had one more load before he went home and changed out of my fuck clothes. By the way, you owe me for this! I hope you got that job.

“You fuckin’ deaf, boy?” the super barked in a puff of cigar smoke. “I said—do you need something?”

“Y—Y—Yes,” I stuttered, my eyes traveling south to his bulging crotch. “My boyfriend and I just moved into apartment 3B a week ago, and our garbage disposal has stopped working.”

“You and your boyfriend?” he snickered. “Fucking salad tossers,” he muttered under his breath before taking a drag on his cigar.

“Excuse me?” I asked indignantly.

“Nothing,” he dismissed in another puff of smoke. “Look, you gotta fill out a repair request.”

The super then led me into his workshop. It was a dark, dank room full of parts and tools with a workbench in one corner, an old desk with a chair in the other. On the desk was a small TV with an attached DVD player. A blonde porn bitch was on the screen in a cheerleader uniform, sucking off a hung dude wearing a football jersey. 

“Don’t mind that,” he dismissed as I stared openly at the porn video. “Just keeps me from falling asleep in here.”

He then directed me to a stack of forms on his desk, next to a small box labeled Repair Requests. There had to be fifty requests already piled up in the box.

“Fill out that form, put it in the box, and I’ll get to you when I get to you,” he shrugged indifferently.

“That could take weeks with all those other requests piled up,” I protested. “My boyfriend and I have friends coming for dinner tonight. We need the garbage disposal fixed today—the water and food debris is all backed up into the sink.”

But the super didn’t hear my tantrum, his eyes glued to the TV porn. The hung football player was shooting his load, his cum covering the cheerleader’s pretty face and fake eyelashes before he shoved his cock back into her mouth. She moaned in feigned delight at the taste of his cum.

The super was rock hard, his cock straining against his pants as he stood trance-like, watching the football player enjoying the release of a skilled blow job. Instantly, a plan formed in my mind. 

“You like getting sucked?” I asked.

“What?” he barked, his concentration broken, his eyes leaving the TV and fixing on me. 

“I said—do you like getting sucked?”

“Shit, boy,” he puffed on his cigar. “What man don’t like having his dick smoked?”

“I’ll smoke your dick—if you fix my garbage disposal today,” I offered boldly, my eyes on his crotch.

“The fuck?!”

And then I noticed it—his wedding band. How had it escaped me? A photo on his desk then caught my attention—the super standing next to a homely woman at the beach. He was in a pair of beach jams, his hairy, muscular chest on full display. The wife wore a one-piece bathing suit under a skirt to hide her fat ass. Their two sunburned rugrats were building a sandcastle in the foreground. 

“When was the last time your wife sucked you?”

“That ain’t none of your—”

“Answer me,” I demanded. “When was the last time she sucked a load out of you?”

“Christ,” he exhaled in a stream of smoke, his head hung in shame. “I can’t fucking remember, it’s been that long.”

“Let me suck you,” I implored. “I’m damn good at it. All the guys in my fraternity called me Mouth, because—”

“Fine,” he spat, cutting me off, his resolve quickly abandoned as the porn bitch on the TV began to suck another hung football stud. Holding his cigar between his teeth, the super unzipped his pants and unleashed a massive nine-incher, a prominent vein running along one side, crowned with a fat cock head. “Have at it, boy.”

Ravenously, I dropped to my knees and swallowed his big one in a single gulp, his hairy balls pressed against my chin. His precum tasted like beer and tobacco—reminding me of when I used to suck off my dad’s bowling buddies.

“Yeah, cocksucker,” he growled in a puff of smoke, his one hand moving to the back of my head while taking a drag on his cigar with the other. “Smoke my big cock—smoke my big fucking cock, bitch.”

Expertly, I bobbed up and down on his big one, unhinging my jaw to accommodate his phenomenal girth. I imagined his wife screaming her head off when taking his big dick in her cunt—assuming they even fucked anymore. From the swelling in his balls, it looked like the man hadn’t dumped a load in weeks.

“Fuck, that’s good,” the super exhaled, his meaty hand applying more pressure at the back of my head, pushing his cock further down my throat, his balls slapping my chin as he began to face fuck me.

Gripping his cigar between his teeth, he moved both hands to the side of my face, gripping my skull like a pocket pussy. Thrusting his hips, he proceeded to fuck my throat at a rapid pace, grunting over and over as he abused my tonsils and destroyed my throat.

“That’s it bitch,” he growled in a puff of smoke. “Open that mouth pussy for me.”

I was gagging on his big one, retching on it, unable to breathe with my nostrils buried in his heady pubes. I was red faced with tears streaming down my face. My condition only emboldened him.

“Yeah, choke on this big dick,” he slapped the side of my face, thrusting deeper down my throat. “Keep choking on it like that and you’re gonna make me—OH SHIT—OH SHIT—I’m gonna—FUCK.”

He pulled out of me instantly, spraying me with his pearly load as I gasped for breath. “FUCK—FUCK,” he continued to grunt as his thick wad splatted against my face and all down the front of my shirt. I was still gasping for air when he grabbed me by the hair and shoved his big cock back down my throat, the remainder of his salty load spewing into my hungry belly. 

“That’s enough,” he pushed me off his cock when his balls had finally reached empty. I fell to the ground, his sticky cum stinging my eyes. “Jesus. Clean yourself up, you filthy cocksucker,” he grabbed a dirty rag from his desk and tossed it at me. 

“You’re—you’re gonna come fix the garbage disposal now?” I implored, smearing his cum all over my face and shirt with the dirty rag.

“Yeah,” the super agreed, taking a drag on his cigar before stuffing his wet cock back into his pants and turning off the TV porn, the blonde bitch taking yet another cum facial. “Give me twenty minutes. I gotta take a piss and then get my tools together.”

Moments later, I returned to the apartment, climbing the stairs on my wobbly legs. “The super said he’ll be up in twenty minutes to fix the garbage disposal,” I announced to my boyfriend Tyler upon coming in the door. 

“That’s great,” Tyler smiled before getting a look at me, his face falling. “Jesus, babe. What the hell happened to you? What’s that mess on your face and all down the front of your shirt? And why do you smell like my grandpa’s cigars?”

They already had a good portion of the structure built but they needed to complete the facility in time for the autumnal influx into our area of the indigent community. Plus I saw that some of the guys who had volunteered were exactly the kind of men I wouldn't mind hanging around in my days off.

Fortunately, my boyfriend Zach was also on board with the goodwill effort even though he didn't attend services with me as he didn't think the church was a good fit for him. He had stayed away from organized religion ever since his parents forced him to undergo conversion therapy in high school because their church deemed it the appropriate thing to do. I considered this a step in the right direction as at least he got to meet with some of the guys in my church and see that not all Christians were the sanctimonious assholes that he had been lead to believe they were.

When we arrived at the new facility, we were separated according to our strengths. Since I had a history as a carpenter a while back, they placed me with this muscular stud named Hank. He led the Holy Hammer Brigade and we were responsible for assisting with building a while shit load of cabinets for the three dormitory rooms so that guests would have places to store their few valuables while staying with them.

Zach was placed into the sorting storing squad who were responsible for maintaining order with the supplies for the effort. He was teamed up with a guy named Atilla and he looked like a muscular victor home from the battle. I knew Zach would love working under him as Atilla was both attractive as fuck with his broad hairy chest glistening under the lights and projected a fun caring persona that made everyone want to be with him, regardless of their sexual preference.

I guess I should tell you that my church wasn't a regular holy Bible thumping crowd. We are believers who feel that God would have had to have been a poly sexual being in order to understand all of us. Yes there was Mary Magdalene, but he also hung out with a big group of guys as well. Bromance didn't start in the 21st century!! I mean, he was in his late 20s and still living at home with his mother. Hello?

But enough about the inclusivity of our faith and probably my misunderstanding of our tenets, the overall thing is that we don't have the right to judge God's children, he does. He told us to just love them until he gets back home to set things right.

And one of the ways we show our love is by helping others out, like building shelter for folks who are down in their luck. So while I was pounding wood with Hank, Zach was Atilla's army of one in the battle to keep things in line at the ersatz store room.

An hour into things as we were starting to get sweaty and dirty while cutting boards and connecting them to create efficient sturdy shelving, I started hearing more of the chatter amongst the guys. They were talking about how they couldn't wait to taste the special treat was going to be making for lunch. Did you see the tasty new meat they gave him to work with?

Well I got kinda pumped as these guys were obviously talking about my baby Zach. Every guy likes to hear when others confirm that he made a good choice about something, like his mate. They were talking about him describing his nice frame and delectable ass. Well I was not expecting this. Not the kind of talk you'd expect from a church group.

One of the locals mentioned that he loves a tight ass because you know that it's gonna be so sweet to eat. The rest chuckled and added their two cents worth. One guy added that he bet Atilla was probably already working his magic balls on the new guy getting him ready to please a room full!

Another added that Atilla's balls alone are a room full! To which they all laughed again. Well I didn't like the way this conversation was going. I mean who doesn't like a little dirty talk while working but come on guys, this is going a bit far. Then I remembered that not even the guys from my church knew Zach because he didn't attend services, so I decided to cut them slack and not raise any fuss.

Still I was a little concerned from the tenor of the conversation. So at the earliest opportunity I slipped away to hit the can, but really I wanted to check in on Zach.

As I passed the group in the middle auditorium who were nailing up the final wall boards and sealing the room from the outside, I asked where I could find the storage center. They looked at me like I was crazy so I just asked where Atilla was. They smiled and pointed down a hallway towards what would become the kitchen. Then one guy handed me a box of finishing nails that they weren't going to need and asked me to return it for him.

So I marched towards the storeroom with my box of nails more sure if myself now that I had a reason to be there. I opened the door and walked into the big square room where several folding had been set up around some makeshift tables, obviously the room where the guys had been eating.

At first I didn't see anyone then I heard a low groaning from behind some boxes set up against a wall. There i could see the congenial face of the fellow I had admired at the beginning of the day. He was still shirtless and it looked like he might have stripped his work pants as well. Not cool.

As I came into better view I saw that indeed I was right as he was naked. And I could see he was stroking his cock. Where the fuck was Zach?

He looked over his shoulder at me and gave me a goofy grin that I'm sure put so many men at ease. The only thing was the smug bastard didn't even stop stroking his dick, even though he saw me. Then I saw something I couldn't comprehend. His cock was immense. About eight inches long but incredibly thick. It was as big around as a pizza on its side. And underneath it were two garbage bags, I thought. Then I saw that there were pubes growing on them. Holy fuck, were those his nuts?

Now I thought back to when I first saw him this morning and I was certain that I would've noticed something so extremely out of place as those balls. Still he smiled as he continued stroking his immensely oversized equipment. I remembered why I had come in here as I held out the box of nails and that's when I saw the last bit of non reality. Jutting from the end of his stretchy eight inch cock were two feet. What the hell kind of madness was this? Could he actually walk on it as well? There was so much surreal facts being thrown my way that I believed he could. As I started laughing to myself at thought of him racing down the street on this, one of the feet slipped inside his dick head. That's when the reality hit me. Those weren't HIS feet. The tattoo on the ankle of a cute teddy bear told me that I knew whose ankles they were.

I had just then put two and two together and came up with one missing boyfriend. The box dropped from my hands as I watched Atilla reach down and slide the other foot inside his monster dick and as the toes slid past the head and down the shaft, I saw the flexible shaft start to shrink back to its normal huge shape. In the matter of two minutes Atilla was standing there stroking his big fucking dick now just the diameter of a silver dollar.

His huge balls underneath him were moving around like a bag full of jello trying to get out. I saw vague human shapes pressed up against the walls of his scrotum, a hand here, a face there, even a hard dick at one point. When I finally got my mind together, I just asked how?

He smiled and said that he was blessed with the ability to take the least of our brethren and turn them into a bounteous harvest for the rest. On Saturdays Pastor Red assigns the next offering to me and I provide the guys with a full potion if the proceeds. I'm not really any good with construction, but I can provide enough nutrition for the whole team. And in return I get the added benefit of a little bit more added to my equipment.

This unknown fellow was a sure gift today. I made sure he got to sample my heavenly tool first. He was so happy as he tried to deep throat me. When he finally made me shoot my load he greedily swallowed my jizz and gripped my ass like he might fall away. As if!

When he finished drawing my snake it started growing in his mouth and it was all he could do to remove it from his lips. The growing shaft attached itself to his face as he tried to pull away from my engorging shaft and scrotum. As he struggled he just quickened the growth.

In no time his head was sliding into my stretchy piss hole and his sexy face was looking inside of me towards his final resting spot. I had time to cut away his clothes as his body struggled to free itself. But once my equipment catches someone, it doesn't release until it's churned him into a protein drink. Here feel how my balls are churning this guy now. Like a hundred mortar and pestles grinding him into a delicious salty yet sweet beverage.

I felt what could have been mistaken for the kick of an unborn child. The balls had started to reduce in size now as well.

Atilla uncrossed his arms and swiped a finger across the head of his dick and moaned in response to the taste. He told me that the first batch is definitely the best and I knew this one would be incredible. Didn't look like he smoked or drank and I can tell from the clean taste. He was right of course, Zach didn't smoke as he thought it was just gross and the last drink we had was the celebratory toast at new years.

He took another swipe and swished around in his mouth and groaned as he swallowed. He looked at me and grinned again as he declared that he could taste the sweet undertones of my favorite summer fruit, watermelon.

Son of a bitch! How did this mother fucker figure that out? We split a small melon last night as a treat. I remember watching the juices run down his mouth and neck. Now he had become the juices for somebody else.

Reality hit me as I realized just how messed up this whole affair had become. As I was becoming a bit more angry at how someone so casually talked about devouring my partner, three guys came in the room. It was Hank and two guys from the Hammer Brigade looking for me.

When they saw me in front of Atilla with his immense but shrinking nutsack, they simply asked him if everything was all right?

Atilla just sighed and said that the new fellow was just learning of our secret ritual here and actually helped me churn the latest choice of P. Red. Guess what guys, watermelon!!

The three broke into smiles and tried to swipe Atilla's cock head, but he just smacked their hands and told them they had to wait for lunch. Then with a grin he added that he hoped that they were hungry as it feels like my boys are mass producing today. Might gave enough for leftovers for during the week!

Then Hank raised his hand and reminded everyone that this was communion week and Pastor will want to make sure that everyone gets a taste. Then he finishes off the chalice like the good lord would want. Best get all you want today.

They then escorted me back to the work room where a set of shelves were waiting for me to put them together. The guys were talking all about the last time Atilla churned watermelon flavored spunk and the room had a light mood for the rest of the day.

Better With Brandon - Part 2

I honestly thought nothing would happen again between me and Brandon after that crazy fuck on the couch. When it was over and our skin cooled down, we put on our clothes and went back to watching the game. He didn’t say anything about it and neither did I.

By the next morning, it almost felt like it had never really happened. It was hazy and remote, like a strange, distant dream. I chalked the whole thing up to some kind of weird moment that comes out of the blue—one of those weird flashes of pheromones and chemistry that ignites in an instant and burns out just as fast.

But less than 24 hours later, Brandon came up from behind as I was bent over unloading the dishwasher. He put his hands on my hips and started pressing his crotch into my backside.

“Mmmm,” he murmured.

He leaned down and laid his chest across my back.

“Sorry, but it looked so good,” he whispered into my neck. “I had to touch. And feel. Maybe we should repeat what we did yesterday.”

I don’t know what I said in response. Probably none of the things a wiser man would have said. Because within minutes, Brandon had my pants at my ankles and he was dragging his cock back and forth between my cheeks. His flared cockhead scraped my hole. Then two quick pumps of Ivory Liquid from the dispenser on the counter and he was inside me.

It was quicker and easier this time. Smooth, like it was practiced and natural. It’s crazy to say that, because I was still wigged out by the reality of bending over for my son. But he was a carefree jock who didn’t stop to think about any of that. He just fucked and kissed and went on with his life. And because it felt good—really good, despite the whole thing being so unexpected—I went on with it too.

After that it became something very regular, almost something unremarkable that we’d do—without either of us really talking about it. We just carried on with our normal lives. Me, the middle aged single dad, working 9-5 and offering his newly adult son a place for the summer. And Brandon, the fresh grad working full-time for the first time and crashing with me until he saved enough for his own place. That banal dynamic persisted.

But then there would be a change in the lighting, or a pause in the show we were watching, and I’d catch Brandon’s eyes on me. They’d have this look, deep and romantic. And just like that we’d start kissing. And the kissing would lead to fucking, which would lead us back to kissing…. It was a tight circle of activity and it could spiral for quite a while.

I should be clear that “us fucking” meant Brandon fucking me.

I did try to go after him one time. We were naked and rolling around, and I grabbed him by the hips, pulling his buns to my crotch and tapping my cock against his hole.

He swatted my hand away.

“Sorry,” I said to him. “I thought we might switch it up this time.”

“Yeah,” he said, grabbing my wrists and then flipping me over onto my back. He poked his cock between my thighs. “But this is working just fine as it is. Isn’t it, Dad?”

Brandon said it in a steady, certain voice.

“Yeah, I guess it is,” I replied.

“Good.”

Brandon pulled my legs up onto his chest and pressed his fingers to my pucker, testing. Then he spit on his dick and pushed it in.

“Because I think this is great.”

“Yeah, me too,” I agreed.

It wasn’t a lie. I hadn’t felt like this in years.

***

I first thought the change between us was just sex, but of course there was more to it than that. We fucked regularly, and we kissed throughout it all. Deeply. Hungrily. Tenderly. That combo couldn’t help but change things.

First the kissing and touching spilled over into everyday life. It became routine for Brandon to grab me by the hip, or pat my behind, or give me a long, slow kiss—all in the middle of the day, disconnected from sex and for no reason at all. These actions were no longer reserved for foreplay; they had become everyday affection.

I have to say, I enjoyed it. I hadn’t done much dating since Brandon’s mother and I split, and it felt good to have someone paying that kind of attention to me. Someone noticing when I looked good in a shirt and encouraging me to change into a better one if I didn’t.

“The black shirt you wore yesterday looked much better on you,” he might remark. I’d go check in the bedroom mirror and realize Brandon was right.

We started hanging out together, and not only around the house.

“Where should we go this weekend?” I’d ask. “I can make plans, get us some reservations.”

Brandon always had ideas, and I enjoyed executing on them.

And sometimes we’d hang out with others. I liked how comfortable everyone was around Brandon. They had first met him as child, but everyone spoke to him differently now. They recognized him as an adult in his own right.

“Brandon, can the two of you come help with the fundraiser on the 5th? Starts early.”

“No problem,” Brandon said with easy confidence. “I’ll make sure this one”—he jabbed me with his elbow—is up and moving by 6:00. You can count on us.”

I liked that he was grounded, mature. He was growing into a fine young man. And that helped lighten the load around the house. He wasn’t a wastrel son to support like some of my friends had. If anything, Brandon supported me as much as I supported him. We just did it in different ways.

I cooked most of the meals because I had more experience in the kitchen. And I loved that any time I asked him “What do you want for dinner?” Brandon always had a new challenge for me.

I shared my login with him and Brandon starting handling the bank account, the bill pays, my investments. He had been an Econ major, he was interested in finance, and he was working as a junior associate in a financial firm.

So it was complementary. Everything even and balanced in its own way.

I suppose it was about making things even when Brandon emptied half the drawers in the my bedroom and moved his stuff in. We had been sleeping together most nights, and it was awkward for him to continually run across the hall to his childhood room, with its narrow dresser and tiny single bed.

I was OK with my stuff being crammed into a smaller space; I didn’t mind the congestion. I was due to go through everything and thin stuff out anyway. I guess it was a welcome prompt.

But he did take my side of the bed. Without asking. The one I’d slept on for years and years.

Apparently it was his preferred side too.

After sex we’d pull apart and he’d roll me to one side and him to the other. He’d turn his head to kiss me again once before he fell asleep, snoring, on what had been my side of the bed.

But relationships entail compromise and they bring change, right? So this was to be expected.

“I mean, this is getting to be kind of like a relationship, right?” I asked Brandon one day.

I don’t know why I said it. I guess I was just feeling a little fragile in that moment.

“Like?” he asked. He put his arms around my waist and pulled me in close. “No. This is totally a relationship. The best there could be.”

I kissed him back, relieved. Then I wondered for an instant when my peace of mind had gotten so caught up in Brandon and what he thought.

“Why do you even worry, Dad?”

He placed a finger on my lips as if to shush me, then he leaned in, removing his finger at the last second and replacing it with his lips.

“Do you need some extra lovin’ tonight?” Brandon’s hands glided over the curve of my ass cheeks. “I can give you what you need.”

I nodded.

“Don’t worry, Dad,” Brandon said, catching my chin with his fingers. “I love you so much. You’ll always be my best boy.”

I nodded again.

His smile arched into a smirk.

“Now get back on that bed. On your back, legs up. Get nice and open for me.”

My son fucked me until I forgot my fears, until there was nothing left but my whimpering into the pillow.

***

And without my even intending it, Brandon and I were together. We didn’t directly tell anyone, but they could see it. And they saw it well enough to know how it all worked.

When the doorbell rang, Brandon asked, “You ready, Dad?”

I nodded and he stopped to straighten my collar.

“Don’t be nervous, you look great.”

Some of Brandon’s friends were coming to dinner, along with a few of mine. We usually saw everyone separately but the time had come to meld our friend groups.

During their arrivals, Brandon changed the music.

The first playlist had been mine—old jazz standards playing through the speakers while I finished the risotto. At some point Brandon wandered through the kitchen, kissed the side of my head, and quietly changed it to something more upbeat and modern.

Nobody objected. Including me.

The apartment filled gradually. Michael and his husband arrived first, carrying wine. Allison and Stu from Brandon’s office. Then Greg and David, friends I’d known for nearly twenty years.

At 46, I was the oldest person in the room. Most of the gray hair belonged to my friends. Most of the energy belonged to Brandon.

He stood near the island talking to Allison, one hand wrapped around a beer bottle, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Every few minutes someone interrupted him with a question.

Where were the extra glasses?

What was in these appetizers?

Had he seen the game last weekend?

People treated him as the host. Even though we both were. Even though it was my house. Even though most of the guests had known me for years.

None of that mattered.

“Need anything?” I asked Brandon as I carried plates into the dining room.

Brandon looked up.

“Yeah. Can you go open the wine that’s meant for dinner? It should breathe a little.”

I smiled. “Sure.”

He gave me a little pat and went back to laughing with my friends. Telling a story about something funny I’d done a few days ago.

Half an hour later everyone was seated around the table.

I had spent most of the afternoon cooking. Brandon grabbed a knife and carved the roast.

Conversation moved from work gossip to politics to vacation plans.

At one point Greg leaned back in his chair and pointed his wine glass toward us.

“Oh, that reminds me.”

He turned to Brandon.

“Are you guys around Labor Day weekend?”

Brandon swallowed the rest of Cabernet and gestured at me to refill his glass.

“Maybe. Why?”

“We rented a house up in Sonoma. Couple of days. Pool, wineries, all of that.”

“Sounds fun.”

“You guys should come.”

I waited for Greg to turn toward me and get my take.

He continued talking to Brandon.

“We’ve got plenty of room. It would be great to have the two of you there.”

Brandon smiled.

“Sounds like fun. I’ll check the calendar.”

I opened my mouth to chime in and then closed it. Brandon hadn’t committed us, and maybe he had a reason for that. I’d ask him later.

The conversation moved on.

Ten minutes later Brandon reached across the table and stole the last

roasted potato from my plate.

I gave him a look.

He shrugged.

“You weren’t eating it.”

“That’s not the point.”

“It absolutely is.”

Everyone laughed.

“OK, OK, I’m not going to fight you over a potato.”

“Because you know I’ll win.”

More laughter.

I blushed. I felt a twinge of embarrassment but also a strange kind of pride.

After dessert, everyone drifted back into the living room. Brandon opened another bottle of wine and topped people off.

I was carrying plates back into the kitchen when I overheard Greg speaking quietly with Brandon near the bookshelf.

“He’s different around you,” Greg was saying, “Lighter. Happier.”

“Yeah. The divorce was hard on him, even a couple of years later. But I think we’re figuring things out now. He’s finally moving on.”

“You’re good for him, Brandon.”

“We’re good for each other,” Brandon said, looking over Greg’s shoulder and giving me a grin. “That’s how it’s supposed to be.”

I blushed again. I felt warm and content.

“Well, it’s nice to see it,” Greg responded.

Later, after the guests had gone and I washed up the pots and pans, Brandon came up behind me and slipped his hands around my waist.

“You did great tonight, Dad. The food was excellent and everyone had a great time.”

“Thanks to you. You kept everyone happy and drunk and laughing.”

He spun me around to face him.

“Yeah. We both have our roles. And we play them well. I appreciate that.”

He leaned in to nuzzle my neck. I wondered when my son had gotten so wise and confident.

But I didn’t stop to wonder why I needed that. I simply knew it was true.

Brandon kissed a little trail down my neck and started opening buttons. I shivered.

“You can leave the dishes,” he whispered hoarsely. “They can wait. I can’t.”

I nodded and let him pull me across the room, where he sat on a kitchen chair and pulled me into his lap. He pulled the shirt from my body and kissed the exposed skin, tenderly and with purpose. I could feel him swell down below.

I kissed back while my clumsy fingers fumbled with his shirt buttons. Eventually he took over, got his shirt off, and pressed our bare torsos together.

“You don’t think I’m too old for you?” I whispered.

“Old man, you are just right.”

He winked and I slid off the chair, came to my knees, opened his pants, and took him into my mouth.

Brandon’s dick was hard, in the way that a 22 year old is instantly ready for anything. Even so, I felt it swell bigger in my mouth, testing the limits of my throat.

“Keep going, Dad. Stay with me. I know you can take it all.”

I nodded and gulped him down deeper, inhaling the musky odor of his pubes.

He let me suck him until he was leaking like an old pipe about to burst. Then he pulled me up to standing, dropped my pants, and pushed me down over the back of the chair.

I gripped with my hands as his tongue dipped and dived between my cheeks, finding its way around my rosebud. It opened easily to him now; he had made me into the kind of eager bottom I had never expected to be.

I sighed with relief when he sunk his shaft into me. This is how I felt most alive now: speared on my son’s young, steel-hard dick.

He began to move. Hands on my hips, controlling my body and the rate of entry. Plunging in and pushing against my prostate in a steady rhythm.

Suddenly I flashed on a moment from earlier in the night. It rose up over my bliss and forced me to speak.

“Brandon.”

“Mmmhmmm.”

He didn’t stop his thrusts.

“Why didn’t you say yes to Sonoma?”

“I wanted to make sure it’s what you wanted for Labor Day weekend too.”

“Do you want to?”

“Yes.”

“Then it’s what I want too.”

“Good.”

His thrusts got harder.

“Kind of hot that Greg didn’t even ask me.”

“I noticed that.”

He fucked harder.

“They all know.”

“Know what?”

Brandon was panting. A bead of sweat rolled off his pec and splashed onto my back.

“That I belong to you.”

Brandon grunted and fucked hard, like an animal, I pushed back more.

“That’s what you want, isn’t it, Dad?”

“Yes,” I whimpered.

His dick had swollen to an impossible girth, fully plugging my hole.

“You got it, babe.”

He leaned his sweaty chest onto my back and bit the side of my neck as his cock started pulsing, spilling his load into me. It was so warm.

“You’re mine,” he whispered. “Always and forever.”

I thought back to that strange moment months ago when we simply watching the game and Brandon leaned in to plant on a kiss on me.

My boy knew just what I needed. And he made it happen.

I knew I would follow his lead. Always and forever.

END

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Well dad had me shadow a few of the guys to pick up the gist of what they were doing so I didn't get hurt and I didn't end up fucking up too bad and costing the company a lot of money.

We were building a structure that would eventually become a manufacturing center and there was a lot to do. I worked Gene who was pouring concrete floors. He was a burly brash guy with an ugly personality. He called everybody asshole and did as he pleased. I basically pushed a board around wet cement for four hours to smooth out surfaces while listening to him complain about how hard he had to work.

After lunch thankfully I was moved to trail Ben who was overseeing the painting of the finished walls in the office area and he was trouble for me. You see, Ben was hot! He was a bad boy walking around shirtless flexing his muscles more than need be. I think he did it to practice for posing at the club afterwards. We spent an hour straight just carting five gallon buckets of paint from the storehouse to the work areas. It was hard work after the first five minutes and by the time I carried my fifth bucket, my arms were burning.

He noticed and chuckled about what a softie I was. I thought to myself that I'd be his softie if he'd fuck me with that promising bulge in his pants. I might have said something but I heard the guys joking about fucking the fag that Old Man Jackson hired and then they'd do a mock thrusting of their hips and laugh, so I learned where they stood with gays. So I kept quiet about my desires.

An hour in there was a little commotion at the fence line as two hookers were patrolling the street and some guys were trying to chat them up. Ben went over and interacted as well before breaking it up and sending everyone back to work. As we carried the yellow paint up to the machine shop area, Ben grousled that he sure would have enjoyed a quick sample of those two hos back there.

I just tried really hard to focus on carrying the heavy bucket of paint and not think about this hot gruff alpha pounding pussy with a thick hard cock. Oh shit I was getting hard and in my effort to not expose my desires, I wasn't watching where I was going and I bumped into a cement wall and surprise, the wall won. I bounced back and went ass over teacups with the bucket lid popping off and spilling paint everywhere.

Ben saw the mess and called for the foreman, my dad. Shit! When dad got there he saw the mess and the glint in Ben's eyes and told me I needed to go to the shed and retrieve some plastic wrap, towels and empty buckets. He looked at Ben who was still excited from the mess and the hos and he said that I needed to talk with Larry and fill out an incident report as well.

Well I didn't know who this Larry was and I started to ask but Ben just turned to me and said that I heard him, grunt, get going!

Well I didn't need second warning. I turned and headed outside to the tool shed. I was collecting the supplies as dad ordered but I couldn't find any empty buckets. While I was seeking them out in the back corner, a cocky guy asked me what I needed. I told him that I had made a bit of a mess carrying paint and was told to get this and some buckets.

He showed me where the empties were placed after they cleaned them up. Then he asked me if I was working with Ben? I replied that I was, but I think he wasn't too happy with me. Ever since the ladies at the fence he was fucking irritable as hell. I almost felt bad for my dad when I left.

Your dad? Who's that?

Bill, the foreman.

Foreman Fag has a kid?

Huh? What are you saying about my dad?

Kid your old man has sucked more dick on the sites than all the hookers who hang around us. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if Ben hadn't tripped you just to get some alone time with him. Specially if there were some beauties flaunting their wares. I just figured he was having me on so I just nodded and scooped up my stuff. Before I left I asked him where I could find this Larry guy I was supposed to see about an incident report.

He just chuckled and said that Larry is over at the main office by the front gate. If I were you, I'd drop this shit off at the spill before making that trip. I thanked him and carried everything back up to the mess I made on the the third floor. As I climbed the stairwell I listened for any signs that there was still hostility but surprisingly there wasn't any noise. As I reached the top stair I heard a shifting of something followed by a low grunt.

I crept forward and looked around the doorway to see Ben's muscular backside as he was stuffing his pecker up my old man's ass. What the hell??

Dad was leaning over the bucket Ben had carried and was naked from the waist down. There was yellow paint on his knees and he was groaning about how bad he needed this fuck.

Ben gripped his hips as he began pounding his ass like he was punishing him with his thick hard cock. He said how bad he needed to cum after two bitches were flirting with him at the fence. If your kid wasn't here I would've taken them up here and fucked them both. But you'll do, Foreman Fag! God I love having a useful boss!!

Dad just kept moaning with each deep thrust up his ass, like he was verbally recording each sliding of the masculine prong, Ben told him if he didn't keep it down he'd have to call Simpson up here to stuff that noisy hole. You want your boy to see you like this? Then he deep a rapid fire fuck series, driving his spear all the way in and out.

I quietly set the stuff down in the hall and quietly went back down the steps. Outside I made a beeline to a port-a-John to pound out a load before heading over to the main office. As I neared them, I met Gene coming out of one. He asked me if I knew where my dad was and I told him that he was with Ben cleaning up a mess I made.

He looked at me with a sour face and said that he's probably sucking that bastards dick again. Swear I don't know how he keeps his job. Then he stomped off to the main floor he was working on this morning.

I was quick about tossing off a load and couldn't help but think of Dad's red face as he was looking up from his bent over state and I blasted into the toilet. Then I chuckled as I figured that mine was not the only load in there, judging by this randy crew.

When I got to the office I met a middle aged guy who was tall and had an overflowing amount of chest hair peeking out of his shirt. I told him what happened and that my dad sent me to fill out an incident report.

He looked at me and asked if I was Bill's kid?

I nodded and he looked at the report and asked how long ago did this happen?

I told him it must be about thirty minutes at least.

He grinned and said that this was more 5an enough time for him and Ben. You go ahead on back and I'll file this. Tell your dad to report here and he better not have cum on his breath.

I had him list his strengths and what kind of job he wanted. Of course his attributes were heavily on his looks... Handsome, muscular, good jawline. He snuck his incredibly bouncy ass and nice bulge in there as well. I told him that employers weren't concerned about that. Turns out I was wrong...

When I suggested he focus on skills, he mentioned that he was a fast learner, could bench press twice his weight, then with a twinkle he mentioned that he didn't have a gag reflex, and then he got to being a great talker and able to multi task.

I gave him a funny look and he said he could apply his moisturizing creams while watching the latest Raphael porn videos online. He's never gonna get hired. When I was about to give up on this endeavor, the doorbell rang.

I answered it to find my grandpa there unexpected. I brought him inside and offered him a coke as neither mom nor dad was home yet. He took a seat at the table where I introduced him to Josh and told him what we were up to.

Without thinking Josh smiled and handed the paper he'd been writing down his attributes on to my grampa, like he was a teacher he was expecting to grade him. Of course grampa took it and started reading it before I realized that there were a number of personal things on there. Too late!!

I could see grampa getting surprised at what he was reading but he didn't stop. I'm pretty sure I knew when he got to the part about no gag reflex as grampa grunted and reached under the table and adjusted himself.

Now you have to realize a little about my grandpa. He's been single for five years now since Grandma Sophie passed away. He's always been smart and affable and I like to think I take after him.

I really hadn't come out yet, but I was pretty sure Josh's notes just outed me, at least to him. It surely had outed Josh. Grampa finished reading the list and turned his attention to my handsome boyfriend and asked him what kind of job he was interested in?

Josh looked at grampa for a second then thought about it. He said that he'd like a job where he got to use his strengths to help people feel better about themselves. I'm just starting out so I don't expect to find something like that, but I would like to be able to move into it after training and honing my craft.

Grampa said that it was obvious he had a grasp on reality and that was a good start. Judging by the qualities, he could see that Josh was a people pleaser and with the new generation becoming more people centric it would be a wider field than he realized. Are you good with online chatting?

Josh grinned and said he was always able to talk to anyone online, even on places like Grindr. Grampa grimaced and said that he might want to keep that part to himself and just say that you are experienced with social media. We all chuckled at that.

Then grampa said that he might do well at the call center he works at. We help customers who are experiencing problems with our equipment. I can schedule you for an interview with Dean, the boss's son, who is currently the HR guy. I'll tell him I would be willing to train you on the knowledge portion of our window installation program and supervise your initial customer confrontations.

Josh was pumped as this would get him started and his parents off his back about a job. Plus, I kinda thought he was grieving in my grampa a little as well.

Well, Josh had his interview the following week and started the following Monday working with Grandpa as his mentor. I walked him into his job the first day as he was nervous, but when he got to grampa's setup, he settled in like he was at home.

Grampa's desk was comfortable looking, he had a series of table tops set up in a round configuration so that he could swivel to whatever station he needed as he talked to the customers. Underneath the counter top was a desk in the center but also a set of shelves containing manuals a reach in fridge and a couple fake plants at the entrance to it. It really was quite homey.

As grampa steered Josh to the bench beside his rolling chair he thanked me for walking him in, but it was close to clock in time and boss man didn't like having non- employees on the work floor.

I said my goodbyes as grandpa was busy directing Josh to check that all the connections on the floor were secure. Last thing I saw was my baby's head dipping below the counter. Grandpa had a strange excited look on his face as I made my way home.

Later that evening I called Josh to see how things went. He was still excited as he told me just how well he liked working under my grampa. He had called him grampa once and was quickly told that while he was there he was to refer to him as Hank or Sir, as that was the accepted address. It took me a couple times but I knew I got it right when your grampa smiled with a warm glow.

It was kind of slow so your grampa had me reading manuals. He said I'd be comfortable just sitting beside his shelves and I could ask him questions as I had them. I gotta admit it was kinda comfy, but I think tomorrow I might take a small pillow. Plus, did you ever notice what a healthy bulge your grampa has? It was fucking staring at me most of the day and I couldn't help but notice it. Especially when he adjusted himself. I almost asked him if I could do that just to get a feel of it but I didn't want to freak him out as he did get me the job. Can you imagine the look on his face if I were to feel him? Hehehe.

Actually I wasn't sure that he'd be so upset, but I didn't say that to Josh. Grampa has always been a loose cannon.

I didn't hear from Josh the next day so on Wednesday when he got off I made sure to call him. He sounded kind of nervous while he talked and said that he did something.

I racked my brain trying to figure out how he could've messed up a call center job but was stymied as he hadn't even taken a call yet. I asked what happened and he admitted the whole thing.

Turns out that grampa was showing a respectable bulge again the next day and Josh's eyes kept returning to it as he sat there with his training manuals. While grampa talked on the phone, he sometimes would scratch his balls or just adjust himself and this was right at Josh's line of sight.

Well his horny mind couldn't handle it any more and as grampa was discussing a slide installation on the phone, Josh reached up and fondled my grampa's bulge. Grampa became quiet and then reached down and placed his hand over top of Josh's. For the rest of the call he sat on the floor rubbing my grampa's balls through his work pants.

When the call ended grampa hung up and then had a talk with Josh. He told him that he was glad to see that he was learning to do things without instruction. This is a good sign for your future here. Then he unzipped and let his unit hang freely from his pants.

Grampa got another call a few minutes later and Josh went from staring at the fat cock sitting before his eyes to feeling it's warmth in his young strong fingers. He could hear grampa grunting as he ran his hand all over the rapidly expanding cock. What had started as a thick four inch member swelled to a thick eight inch beast which now was dripping his special honey.

Well Josh wanted to taste his first grown man cock and he leaned forward towards grampa's chair and stuck out his tongue to lick him. Grampa stopped talking midsentence and his hand gripped the edge of his cubicle counter top. He picked up his conversation as he told the caller that it looked like he qualified for an upgrade on the frames for his windows while he pointed to his crotch with his free hand.

Josh said he wasn't a fool and slid over to where grampa had slid away from the counter and placed his mouth right over the full throbbing head of Grandpa's cock. He said he heard the change in Grandpa's voice as he got into having his cock sucked while doing the consultation over the phone. He said that he was sure Grandpa kept the caller online with him just to get a longer blowjob. I wouldn't put it past him!!

When grampa came it was a gusher. Josh tried hard to keep his mouth sealed around the erupting cock but some still leaked around his mouth and got his shirt all wet. Grampa laughed when he hung up and saw his cum all over Josh's shirt and told him not to move as he put his headset on standby. He went and retrieved a new uniform shirt as well as a roll of paper towels for future problems.

I jerked out a load listening to how bad my friend had gotten. I asked if things were okay today and he said that grampa actually brought in a six pack of coke and put it in the fridge as he thought I might need it after all the sucking I was going to be doing. That sounds like my grandpa!

Josh's training was like that for another week. I finally asked him if they were ever going to have him on the phone and he replied that he hadn't had on that particular piece of equipment yet, but Sir has had me listen in on two other techs to learn their methods. They fuck just as forcibly as your grandpa!!

To mark the changing of the new month, I decided to surprise Josh by taking him to the Chinese place next door for lunch. When I got there all I saw was grampa sitting there with a sour look on his face. I asked where Josh was and he told me that his boss decided to check on the newest member of the staff and when he stepped into my cubicle Josh errantly got handsy and felt up his crotch.

Oh, no! And he was telling me just how much he was enjoying working under you! Grampa gave me a surprise look before telling me that the boss was surprised but liked what he felt.

It had been a rough year. I had knocked up a girl on our third date. That’s what I get for spurning condoms. In my defense, she told me she was on the pill—allegedly. As soon as she saw the two pink lines on the pee stick, she knew she wanted to keep the baby. Having grown up with an absent dad, I wasn’t going to do that to my own kid. So I did the honorable thing and married her, even though I was not ready to be done with sowing my wild oats at a mere 22 years old. 

She had a difficult pregnancy, so sex went out the window almost immediately. I thought things would change once the baby came, but I was deluded. First she was too sore to fuck, then too tired after taking care of the baby all day. I was condemned to a life of rubbing one out in the shower each morning, watching my load circling down the drain—my sex life with it. 

To add insult to injury, money was tight. My day job wasn’t paying our bills, so I started working for Grubhub at night for extra cash. I enjoyed getting out of the house, a break from my wife and the baby. And I really liked all the people that I met, delivering everything from smoothies to burgers to pricey lobster dinners. 

That’s how I met Martin. He had ordered a bowl of pozole from Mamacita, an authentic Mexican place across town. He had opted for hand delivery, so I rang the doorbell with his warm soup packed up carefully for him.

“I’ve got a Grubhub delivery for Martin,” I announced as the door opened. 

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he blurted out upon seeing me, his eyes traversing my face to my crotch in under a second. “Jesus—I’m sorry. That was rude. I can never keep my stupid mouth shut.”

“It’s—it’s really okay,” I assured him, not wanting him to give me a low star rating, though I was a bit embarrassed. I was used to gay guys ogling me covertly at the gym, but I’d never had a guy openly compliment my looks. And even though I wasn’t gay, I had to admit it felt good to be noticed. 

“Do you want to come inside for a drink?” Martin offered, while taking his delivery from me. “Or some of this soup? It’s really good, and I can never eat it all.”

“No thanks. I—uh—” 

But before I could finish, he noticed my wedding band and immediately blurted out, “Oh, Jesus—you’re married, and I’m betting to a woman.”

“Yeah,” I affirmed. 

“I’m such a fucking idiot,” he lamented, smacking his palm to his forehead. “Why am I always attracted to straight guys?!”

I shrugged, not knowing what to say. Objectively, he was a handsome guy. It didn’t make me gay to admit that. He looked to be a few years older than me, and had an athletic body. He seemed to be someone I would be friends with outside of a food delivery transaction. But he also seemed lonely, and I could relate to that. I was married with a kid, but had never felt so lonely in all my life.

And I think he sensed that in me. 

“You—you sure you can’t come inside for a few minutes?” Martin offered again, his eyes pleading with me. 

“I really can’t—” I began to protest. 

“I’m like totally down to suck you off,” he interrupted with a brazen offer. “No strings. Just some easy head for you. Dump and go.”

Christ. What had I gotten myself into?

“I really can’t stay,” I backed away, making a beeline for my car in his driveway. 

“Come back anytime,” he called to me as I slid into the driver seat. “My offer stands.”

I drove around for an hour after that, not accepting any more delivery orders. My mind was reeling. I’d never been propositioned by a guy before. One part of me was offended, and yet another part was flattered. But mostly—I was interested. 

A no-strings blow job, he had promised. Dump and go. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that my big cock stirred at the thought. Other than my right hand, my cock had seen no action in over a year. My mind was made up. 

“I was hoping you’d come back,” Martin smiled upon opening his door to me once more. “Come inside.”

He led me into his living room, and gestured to a plush couch, opposite a large screen TV. The place was nice, far nicer than the shitty apartment I shared with my wife and kid. 

“You want a drink?” Martin offered. “I’ve got a nice bottle of whiskey open.”

“No thanks,” I declined, wanting to keep my wits. 

“You ever done this before?” he prompted, taking a seat next to me on the couch. “Gotten your dick sucked by a guy?”

“Nope,” I shook my head. “I’m kinda nervous.”

“It’s cool,” Martin smiled warmly. “There’s a first time for everything. And I think you’ll like it. I’m told I give killer head.” That sounded promising, but I was still nervous as fuck. 

“I can put on some porn,” he offered, gesturing to the large screen TV. “I’ve got a good selection of straight porn saved in my queue for guys like you.”

“Nah,” I demurred, wondering how many other straight guys like me had been sucked off on his couch. Probably more than I’d prefer to know. I glanced at the cushions for cum stains, but didn’t see any. 

An awkward silence followed. My cock was aching to be sucked, but my brain was telling me to get the fuck out of there. I was getting cold feet rapidly, and Martin could sense it. 

“We can chat some more, if you like. Get to know each other a bit,” he offered. “Or we can just get right to it—get that big cock down my warm throat.”

“Let’s just do it,” I opted, adjusting my swollen cock through my jeans. I was eager to get the deed done before I changed my mind. 

“Take off your shirt,” he ordered, sliding off the couch and positioning himself on the floor between my knees. I duly complied, tossing my shirt onto an adjacent chair. 

“Fuck, you’ve got a hot body,” Martin exclaimed, licking his lips as he ran his hands over my chest. “And I love that you’re hairy. Looks like you keep it clipped rather short?”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “My wife doesn’t like me to get too hairy.”

“Bitches,” he laughed. “They have no clue that fur is sexy on a man.”

Martin then ran his hand along my bulging crotch, tracing the outline of my swollen cock. “Damn, bro,” he exclaimed. “You’re hard as a rock. When did you last bust a nut?”

“This morning—in the shower,” I replied sheepishly. “But don’t worry, I always shoot a big load.”

“Mmmm,” Martin purred, undoing my jeans. “I fucking love a big load.”

My rock hard cock erupted from my pants, nearly smacking Martin in the eye as he unzipped me and pulled my pants down around my ankles. Purple and dripping precum, my dick was ready for action. 

“Christ, you’re hung,” he gasped, drooling over my endowment. “You’re what, like eight or nine inches?”

“Nine inches,” I confirmed unabashedly. “It’s a real pussy splitter.”

“I can tell,” Martin acknowledged, diving into it, ravenously licking my big dick over and over from balls to tip like a popsicle, my precum running down the side. 

Fuck, it felt amazing. 

“That feel good?” Martin paused, saliva stringing from the tip of my cock to his lips. 

“Fucking amazing,” I acknowledged, the stress of life melting from my body. 

“You ain’t seen nothing yet,” he winked before swallowing my whole cock, taking the entire length of my veiny shaft down his throat in a single gulp, my hairy balls pressed against his chin. 

“FUCK,” I cried out, having never been deep throated all the way before. Most girls who had even attempted to suck me usually only managed to swallow the first few inches of my big one before raking my shaft with their teeth, abruptly ending the encounter. 

Martin went straight to work, bobbing up and down on my cock with a steady rhythm, eerily familiar to the pace I employ when I’m dipping my stick or jacking off. Jesus, he knew how to suck a dick. Instinctively, my arms moved up behind my head and rested on the back of the couch. My only goal was to enjoy the sheer bliss of his talent—and the dude had talent in spades. 

With one arm stroking my hairy chest, teasing my nips on and off, his other hand moved to my balls. Massaging and tugging lightly on my round, ripe beauties, I knew he was going to work a big load out of me. 

“Fuck you’re good,” I moaned, my shaft slipping back and forth between his supple lips, my cock head battering his tonsils.

“I’m glad you like it,” he cooed, coming up for a brief breath of air, drool and precum glistening on his chin. “I fucking love sucking a big dick—and you’ve definitely got a big one.”

My cock was loving his warm throat. I couldn’t imagine his service could get any better—until it did. Locking his lips tightly around my shaft, he gripped my cock and began to bob up and down rapidly on my cock, essentially jerking me with his mouth. It was incredibly intense, a sensation beyond belief. And my aching balls were responding. 

I tried to hold back, really I did. But I couldn’t resist the pressure mounting in my balls, rising in my shaft. A wave of pleasure coursed through my cock and ricocheted through my body, my load imminent. I couldn’t take it anymore. 

“I’m about to bust,” I announced urgently, Martin increasing his pace, bringing me closer and closer to climax.  “You want to me to shoot in your mouth? You want to eat my load?”

“Mmm hmm,” Martin nodded, not once taking his lips off my throbbing cock. There was no turning back. I was rounding third and headed to home plate. 

“Fuuuuck,” I exhaled slowly, my head tipping back in ecstasy, Martin’s hand bracing against my chest as my big cock exploded in his mouth. My body shook uncontrollably as shot after shot of my thick load went careening down his eager throat. With his eyes looking up at me like a supplicant, Martin swallowed every last drop until my balls were empty.

I slowly went soft in his mouth as he worked his tongue along the diminishing girth of my shaft, licking it clean. Finally releasing me, he cleaned my balls with his tongue, and gave a final suck to the tip of my cock, pulling that one last drop of cum out of me. 

“Holy fuck,” I exclaimed in gratitude. “You are fucking amazing.”

“Thanks,” he smiled, wiping his cummy lips with the back of his hand. “You’ve got a great cock. You’re welcome to feed me a load anytime you need it.”

I thanked Martin, as I rose to my feet, weak in the knees as I pulled up my jeans and stuffed my spent cock back into them. My brain felt fuzzy, following possibly the best orgasm of my life. 

Martin and I made small talk as I pulled on my shirt and put myself back in order. I assured him that I would return for more of his cock worship—soon, I promised. 

“You know—you’re more than welcome to fuck my ass with that big thing the next time you return,” Martin offered as he saw me to the door. “I’ve got a tight cunt, and I’m known to be a power bottom. You’ll love my hole.”

I thanked him, but made no promises about fucking him. I wasn’t sure if that was a bridge I was ready to cross. A good blow job was all I needed. 

But I thought about his offer that night while in bed, my wife snoring by my side, my kid sleeping in the next room. I would be kidding myself if I denied wanting to fuck Martin up the ass with my big dick, seeding his tight cunt. I had heard that ass feels really good—even better than pussy. And, hey, it’s not like the guy can get pregnant. 

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

When dad pulled into Deacon Industries I could see Chuck standing in the rear stairwell nursing a pants filling erection while he was thumbing through his phone. I didn't see our car anywhere so I guess Derek was still at the gym. Dad pulled the big box of pastries out of the back seat and headed inside while I headed to the rear stairwell to confront my buddy.

I popped open the door and saw him look up in surprise as he was figuring out who was using the rear entrance. When he saw me he just grinned and went back to palming his abundantly stuffed crotch of his suit.

He asked if I enjoyed my scavenger hunt with my attractive cum magnetic if a boyfriend? I just grousled that he went too far taking advantage of my boyfriend like that. It was bad enough he used his power position here to get him to suck your monstrous cock, but did you have to make him do it elsewhere as well?

He smiled and said that he didn't make him do anything he didn't want to do. He was free to say no at any time. The fact he didn't says a lot about how much of a freak he really is. The fact that you didn't shut things down also speaks volumes. You could've said that he didn't have to do this but instead you let him and even went inside to watch him do it. I think my cocksucking buddy might be a cuck in training. Perhaps we'll have to investigate that later. Don't get excited, Teddy Bear, you'd be surprised at how many of our classmates love watching me fuck their partners. You're just the first one that had a guy instead of a chick.

I started to protest but he stepped down from the landing he was on and said I should see these. On his phone were a bunch of pics, showing Derek in action. There he was leaning over a desk that had been wiped clear of papers while Mr. Harris was railing Derek's ass with his thick club. Another showed the big money shot leaking out his ass around the deflating cock. Then there was a eagle eyed POV shot taken from the police chief's chest looking down at my baby with his mouth stretched around a long pecker. The next had Derek's eyes pleading up to the screen as more of the long cock was inside his mouth. Then two fresh faced recruits had Derek over by the holding cells and were jerking off together on his face while the guys inside the cage were all watching. The next showed a nearly white face being scraped by fingers as my baby had fingers inserted into his mouth.

The next was the hardest and yet the hottest for me. There was Dad standing there with his big hairy arm around Derek's shoulder as cum was splashed across my baby's face. Next showed dad without his apron,pants or underwear as his hairy ass was fucking my baby's. The look of total surrender was on Derek's face. The next showed a massive leak spilling out Derek's asshole as my dad's rather surprisingly large cock was in the background.

I was completely taken back at these photos and couldn't help but wonder how I could ever satisfy Derek again. Then I saw him on his knees inside an office with a big black cock stuffed halfway into his mouth. From the muscular thighs I knew he had made it to the gym on Maple Street. The next showed that big black gut rearranger shoved all the way up my man's backside and the look of sublime pleasure on his face told me he was not upset at his predicament. The next was a video that looked like it had come from the security camera. It was inside a steam room and Derek was sitting on Mr. Newsome's lap while three other muscular guys thrust their peckers before Derek's face for perusal. One after another I watched him suck each of the guys, two white and one black, before the two white guys stood on each side of Derek as he bounced on the boss's cock and slurped on the other black guy's cock. I heard the second black guy call the boss his uncle, before the cum flew everywhere.

Chuck just grinned as he watched me deal with my own hardon caused by viewing his secret stash. Then he said that we had seats to the big show in his dad's office. Seems he wants to meet my new assistant and give him his own assessment.

He led me to a polished oak door on the third floor and he knocked twice before turning the knob. Dad was in there talking to an older version of my friend. Then it hit me that in all the years I knew Chuck, I had never met his dad. He was a bit taller than Chuck and wore his rugged face clean shaven but I could see the swirls of dark chest hair in his unbuttoned shirt.

He looked up and smiled at Chuck as we entered and greeted him. He then added that he was just showing George here the photo evidence of the success of Derek. He of course was particular to the photos at the bakery, but what can I say? Hahaha.

It looks like he should be back here... Just then the door slung open and in walked my baby looking very much like he had literally been ridden hard and put up wet. There was cum dried all over his face and through his hair and I bet that there was also a good portion of his body as well.

Charles Senior asked him how he enjoyed the sauna at the gym. I always find it so relaxing. When I leave it I feel like a new man. How about you, did you feel like a new man or just feel a new man?

Derek just stood there in shock as he took in that he was in front of the owner of the company. He stammered that he was sorry for not being more presentable, Mr. Deacon. Chucks dad just looked at him before grinning. Then he told Derek that he was forgiven as he had reviewed the photo evidence of the task my son had put you on.

Derek's face went white as he was suddenly seeing his chances of employment flying out the window. He shrank into a chair by the door to try and hide.

Charles Sr. added that he felt a little out of place as of all the men in this room, I'm the only one who hasn't had your charmingly attractive face and tight attractive ass wrapped around his cock. Although judging by Newsome's steam room video, I'd be surprised if it were still tight. The guys all chuckled at his joke.

Then Sr. Instructed Derek to lose the modesty and bring his talented mouth over here and show your new boss's boss just what you can do. Derek cautiously stood and removed his clothes before stepping between Sr.'s legs and lowering himself to the floor in front of the captain of industry. We all were holding our breath in anticipation as Derek leaned in and began licking the rapidly engorging member that Sr. Extracted from his expensive suit.

As Derek began to do his stuff, Sr. sighed as he told Chuck that he was better at this than your mom, and your first, second and fourth girlfriends. Chuck looked up at his dad who just grinned and said the third one had this thing she did with her finger up my ass which was incredible. At that point Derek slid the pants down and stuck his tongue beneath the two hairy balls and began sucking each one into his mouth. As Sr. Groaned his approval he said that was good but still not as, then he released a grunt. I looked at his crotch and I saw Derek's face had slid lower and his tongue was punching the old man's hole. Sr. had slid forward in his big leather chair giving Derek full access to his ass. As my baby ate his hole out, Sr. moaned that he was wrong,Derek has just claimed the top spot. Oh fuck, just eat my hole you hungry fucker!

By now the executive penis was at full mast and dangerously close to exploding. Derek, not wanting to miss a chance to get fucked by the biggest cock he'd seen all day, stood and added some spit to his fingers as he spread the cum still leaking out his hole, and sat down on the lust filled executive's pecker, inhaling it into his hole like a pen cap being returned to a ball point pen.

We watched him slide down Sr.'s prod as it disappeared up his ass. I wasn't sure who was grunting loudest, Derek, Sr, or us. I looked over at dad and he was jerking off in his chair while watching the show. I turned my head and saw Chuck pounding away as well, so I unzipped and joined the group. Then one by one we stood up around the throne and masturbated as Sr. fucked my man like he owned him. And he was putting him through his paces. Derek was moaning like a bitch in heat as Chuck began firing his load. When I saw Dad firing as well I made it a three for three execution and actually hit my baby across his nose. He squealed from the multi loads he just caused and his cock went off flying so violently he actually hit some papers on Sr.'s desk. When he came his ass must've tightened around Sr.'s shaft as he grunted a low growl and gripped Derek around the waist and thrust up from his seat. From the look on Derek's face he could feel the bountiful load breeding his guts. It was at this point my baby joined the ranks of the powerful by bringing them pleasure.

Better With Brandon

When my son Brandon came out, I never imagined we’d fuck. And it was even wilder to think that this young man would be the one to fuck me. But here we are.

It happened on a normal Sunday afternoon, the two of us on the couch watching football. We were relaxed, comfortable.

I had no problem with him commenting on the players as much as the plays. He had told me he was gay years ago, which didn’t surprise me at all. I even confided in him that I’d played around with some dudes in the year before I met his mother. I mean, anyone should be able to appreciate a pretty face, regardless of the anatomy attached to it.

So Brandon and I were sprawled on the couch, post-gym, in sweatpants and T-shirts, beers cracked open, with nowhere else to be.

I reached for my beer just as Brandon started shouting wildly about a play. His shout made me look up, and I immediately wished I hadn’t. The quick sharpness of the move triggered something in neck, and I sat back into the couch with a groan.

“Ahhh, fuck.”

“What’s wrong, Dad? Your neck?”

“Yeah, that’s where it hurts. But the problem is my traps. They’re tight as fuck and pulling on everything. Happens whenever I do those weighted dips.”

Brandon stretched his arm behind me and grabbed the meat to the side of my neck. He dug into my trap and squeezed, trying to break things up.

“You gotta take it easy, old man. Go lighter when you do that shit if you refuse to fix your form.”

“Fuck you.”

“Doss this help?”

“Yeah, it does.”

I should probably schedule a real massage sometime. Deep tissue or maybe some trigger point work. But this helped in the meantime.

Brandon worked one side and then did the other.

“Better?”

“Yeah,” I turned to face him. “Better. Thanks.”

He looked at me, real serious, and then leaned in slowly.

And just like that we were kissing. Not too long, but real slow and soft. Sensual. I got a funny feeling that ran throughout my body.

When the kiss stopped, we both pulled back a little. Not too far.

“What was that for?” I asked.

“Looked like you needed it.”

“But—“

He leaned in and kissed me again, stopping my words. But you’re my son, I said in my head.

Brandon didn’t seem to care. He kept on kissing.

After a minute, I didn’t care either. It felt really nice, even though it was unexpected, and definitely strange, and probably a very bad idea.

Brandon still had his arm around my shoulder and he pulled me in close. He dropped a hand down onto my chest and let it rest on my pecs. He rubbed a little bit and then he squeezed it while he kissed me. He pinched my nipple.

“You got your chest super activated today,” he whispered. “Feels nice.”

What felt nice was his hand on my tit. He was squeezing it again, and giving me another slow, wet kiss.

Things went from there. His hands roamed my chest, my shirt came off, then his. I ran my fingers over his smooth skin while he stroked the patch of fur between my pecs.

And then he dropped his head into my lap.

Brandon yanked my sweatpants down and nuzzled me, his warm breath going through my cotton briefs. Just as things got plenty damp, he pulled them down completely and took me into his mouth.

Good God.

A slow, wet blowjob is a thing of beauty on any occasion, but it’s something else, totally wild, when it’s coupled with the thought that this is my son. This is my son on his father’s cock.

My head told me I should be uncomfortable with this, and stop it probably. But the sensation of that expert blow job overrode everything else.

Brandon pushed me down onto the couch, shifting me sideways and laying me on my back. He lifted my legs and put his head between my thighs. He tongued my balls, stroked my cock, sucked the head with his hand wrapped around my shaft at the base.

I moaned.

He pushed my legs up higher and tongued a line from my balls down to my taint, going slow and lapping long, wet lines along that ridge of nerve endings before he came to rest at my hole. His tongue swirled there for an eternity.

My hole.

I had never thought about it. It was just a place to shit. A sweaty region with too much hair.

But not to Brandon. He pulled my cheeks to the sides and ate my hole like it was a fresh, pink pussy.

I lay writhing on my back, legs in the air, while my young jock son showed me that guys could get eaten too.

If I wasn’t so naive I would have recognized this as prep. But I totally didn’t. Not really. It was a surprise when he laid his cockhead at my hole and started pushing in.

Jesus! My body winced and I snapped shut like a clam. I screwed my eyes up tight; they were wet at the edges.

“Relax, Dad. It’s gonna feel good.”

He stayed there. He was insistent. He took my cock in his hand and stroked me while he kept his cock at my pucker with constant, steady pressure until I relaxed enough to open up and start accepting him in.

I’d never had anyone inside me. Never anyone, anytime—except now, Brandon. Except my son.

He was patient but persistent, and he worked his cock slowly into me until I felt his balls touch the back of my thighs. He leaned down to kiss me and he stayed there, just like that, letting my body adjust to him.

Then he started to fuck.

He locked his eyes with mine, and he watched everything play out across my face. He was watching what he provoked, as my boy thrust his cock into his dad, going slow and smooth, with a mix of affection and the kind of goal orientation I had instilled in him from a young age.

I’d meant that goal orientation for school, for sports, for his career. But now he used that skill to take what he wanted. And it happened to be me.

My body was electrified. There were flashes of heat, waves that undulated through me, and panting little gasps that escaped when he sunk it deep and pushed against my prostate.

Brandon smiled when I came. I was firing off before I even realized it was happening. I sprayed a bunch of crazy splotches onto his smooth chest.

He laughed and kept pumping.

“Can you take a little more? I’m close.”

I nodded and watched him rut. Saw his face screw up tight as he tried to hold himself back for just a little bit longer. But he couldn’t. Fairly quickly he blasted into me, flooding his dad.

It took a few minutes for our bodies to calm down. Brandon stayed inside me, moving slowly and sliding his cock tenderly along that slicked up chute while we kissed and waited for our breathing to return to normal.

When it did, he pulled out his softening dick and sat up on the couch, pulling me under his arm. He laid my head on his sticky chest and stroked my hair while he drank his beer and we finished watching the game.

It was weird and wonderful and ill advised, and I was sure it would never happen again.

But again, I was wrong.

End Part 1. Stay tuned for Part 2!

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Better With Brandon - Part 2

I honestly thought nothing would happen again between me and Brandon after that crazy fuck on the couch. When it was over and our skin cooled down, we put on our clothes and went back to watching the game. He didn’t say anything about it and neither did I.

By the next morning, it almost felt like it had never really happened. It was hazy and remote, like a strange, distant dream. I chalked the whole thing up to some kind of weird moment that comes out of the blue—one of those weird flashes of pheromones and chemistry that ignites in an instant and burns out just as fast.

But less than 24 hours later, Brandon came up from behind as I was bent over unloading the dishwasher. He put his hands on my hips and started pressing his crotch into my backside.

“Mmmm,” he murmured.

He leaned down and laid his chest across my back.

“Sorry, but it looked so good,” he whispered into my neck. “I had to touch. And feel. Maybe we should repeat what we did yesterday.”

I don’t know what I said in response. Probably none of the things a wiser man would have said. Because within minutes, Brandon had my pants at my ankles and he was dragging his cock back and forth between my cheeks. His flared cockhead scraped my hole. Then two quick pumps of Ivory Liquid from the dispenser on the counter and he was inside me.

It was quicker and easier this time. Smooth, like it was practiced and natural. It’s crazy to say that, because I was still wigged out by the reality of bending over for my son. But he was a carefree jock who didn’t stop to think about any of that. He just fucked and kissed and went on with his life. And because it felt good—really good, despite the whole thing being so unexpected—I went on with it too.

After that it became something very regular, almost something unremarkable that we’d do—without either of us really talking about it. We just carried on with our normal lives. Me, the middle aged single dad, working 9-5 and offering his newly adult son a place for the summer. And Brandon, the fresh grad working full-time for the first time and crashing with me until he saved enough for his own place. That banal dynamic persisted.

But then there would be a change in the lighting, or a pause in the show we were watching, and I’d catch Brandon’s eyes on me. They’d have this look, deep and romantic. And just like that we’d start kissing. And the kissing would lead to fucking, which would lead us back to kissing…. It was a tight circle of activity and it could spiral for quite a while.

I should be clear that “us fucking” meant Brandon fucking me.

I did try to go after him one time. We were naked and rolling around, and I grabbed him by the hips, pulling his buns to my crotch and tapping my cock against his hole.

He swatted my hand away.

“Sorry,” I said to him. “I thought we might switch it up this time.”

“Yeah,” he said, grabbing my wrists and then flipping me over onto my back. He poked his cock between my thighs. “But this is working just fine as it is. Isn’t it, Dad?”

Brandon said it in a steady, certain voice.

“Yeah, I guess it is,” I replied.

“Good.”

Brandon pulled my legs up onto his chest and pressed his fingers to my pucker, testing. Then he spit on his dick and pushed it in.

“Because I think this is great.”

“Yeah, me too,” I agreed.

It wasn’t a lie. I hadn’t felt like this in years.

***

I first thought the change between us was just sex, but of course there was more to it than that. We fucked regularly, and we kissed throughout it all. Deeply. Hungrily. Tenderly. That combo couldn’t help but change things.

First the kissing and touching spilled over into everyday life. It became routine for Brandon to grab me by the hip, or pat my behind, or give me a long, slow kiss—all in the middle of the day, disconnected from sex and for no reason at all. These actions were no longer reserved for foreplay; they had become everyday affection.

I have to say, I enjoyed it. I hadn’t done much dating since Brandon’s mother and I split, and it felt good to have someone paying that kind of attention to me. Someone noticing when I looked good in a shirt and encouraging me to change into a better one if I didn’t.

“The black shirt you wore yesterday looked much better on you,” he might remark. I’d go check in the bedroom mirror and realize Brandon was right.

We started hanging out together, and not only around the house.

“Where should we go this weekend?” I’d ask. “I can make plans, get us some reservations.”

Brandon always had ideas, and I enjoyed executing on them.

And sometimes we’d hang out with others. I liked how comfortable everyone was around Brandon. They had first met him as child, but everyone spoke to him differently now. They recognized him as an adult in his own right.

“Brandon, can the two of you come help with the fundraiser on the 5th? Starts early.”

“No problem,” Brandon said with easy confidence. “I’ll make sure this one”—he jabbed me with his elbow—is up and moving by 6:00. You can count on us.”

I liked that he was grounded, mature. He was growing into a fine young man. And that helped lighten the load around the house. He wasn’t a wastrel son to support like some of my friends had. If anything, Brandon supported me as much as I supported him. We just did it in different ways.

I cooked most of the meals because I had more experience in the kitchen. And I loved that any time I asked him “What do you want for dinner?” Brandon always had a new challenge for me.

I shared my login with him and Brandon starting handling the bank account, the bill pays, my investments. He had been an Econ major, he was interested in finance, and he was working as a junior associate in a financial firm.

So it was complementary. Everything even and balanced in its own way.

I suppose it was about making things even when Brandon emptied half the drawers in the my bedroom and moved his stuff in. We had been sleeping together most nights, and it was awkward for him to continually run across the hall to his childhood room, with its narrow dresser and tiny single bed.

I was OK with my stuff being crammed into a smaller space; I didn’t mind the congestion. I was due to go through everything and thin stuff out anyway. I guess it was a welcome prompt.

But he did take my side of the bed. Without asking. The one I’d slept on for years and years.

Apparently it was his preferred side too.

After sex we’d pull apart and he’d roll me to one side and him to the other. He’d turn his head to kiss me again once before he fell asleep, snoring, on what had been my side of the bed.

But relationships entail compromise and they bring change, right? So this was to be expected.

“I mean, this is getting to be kind of like a relationship, right?” I asked Brandon one day.

I don’t know why I said it. I guess I was just feeling a little fragile in that moment.

“Like?” he asked. He put his arms around my waist and pulled me in close. “No. This is totally a relationship. The best there could be.”

I kissed him back, relieved. Then I wondered for an instant when my peace of mind had gotten so caught up in Brandon and what he thought.

“Why do you even worry, Dad?”

He placed a finger on my lips as if to shush me, then he leaned in, removing his finger at the last second and replacing it with his lips.

“Do you need some extra lovin’ tonight?” Brandon’s hands glided over the curve of my ass cheeks. “I can give you what you need.”

I nodded.

“Don’t worry, Dad,” Brandon said, catching my chin with his fingers. “I love you so much. You’ll always be my best boy.”

I nodded again.

His smile arched into a smirk.

“Now get back on that bed. On your back, legs up. Get nice and open for me.”

My son fucked me until I forgot my fears, until there was nothing left but my whimpering into the pillow.

***

And without my even intending it, Brandon and I were together. We didn’t directly tell anyone, but they could see it. And they saw it well enough to know how it all worked.

When the doorbell rang, Brandon asked, “You ready, Dad?”

I nodded and he stopped to straighten my collar.

“Don’t be nervous, you look great.”

Some of Brandon’s friends were coming to dinner, along with a few of mine. We usually saw everyone separately but the time had come to meld our friend groups.

During their arrivals, Brandon changed the music.

The first playlist had been mine—old jazz standards playing through the speakers while I finished the risotto. At some point Brandon wandered through the kitchen, kissed the side of my head, and quietly changed it to something more upbeat and modern.

Nobody objected. Including me.

The apartment filled gradually. Michael and his husband arrived first, carrying wine. Allison and Stu from Brandon’s office. Then Greg and David, friends I’d known for nearly twenty years.

At 46, I was the oldest person in the room. Most of the gray hair belonged to my friends. Most of the energy belonged to Brandon.

He stood near the island talking to Allison, one hand wrapped around a beer bottle, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Every few minutes someone interrupted him with a question.

Where were the extra glasses?

What was in these appetizers?

Had he seen the game last weekend?

People treated him as the host. Even though we both were. Even though it was my house. Even though most of the guests had known me for years.

None of that mattered.

“Need anything?” I asked Brandon as I carried plates into the dining room.

Brandon looked up.

“Yeah. Can you go open the wine that’s meant for dinner? It should breathe a little.”

I smiled. “Sure.”

He gave me a little pat and went back to laughing with my friends. Telling a story about something funny I’d done a few days ago.

Half an hour later everyone was seated around the table.

I had spent most of the afternoon cooking. Brandon grabbed a knife and carved the roast.

Conversation moved from work gossip to politics to vacation plans.

At one point Greg leaned back in his chair and pointed his wine glass toward us.

“Oh, that reminds me.”

He turned to Brandon.

“Are you guys around Labor Day weekend?”

Brandon swallowed the rest of Cabernet and gestured at me to refill his glass.

“Maybe. Why?”

“We rented a house up in Sonoma. Couple of days. Pool, wineries, all of that.”

“Sounds fun.”

“You guys should come.”

I waited for Greg to turn toward me and get my take.

He continued talking to Brandon.

“We’ve got plenty of room. It would be great to have the two of you there.”

Brandon smiled.

“Sounds like fun. I’ll check the calendar.”

I opened my mouth to chime in and then closed it. Brandon hadn’t committed us, and maybe he had a reason for that. I’d ask him later.

The conversation moved on.

Ten minutes later Brandon reached across the table and stole the last

roasted potato from my plate.

I gave him a look.

He shrugged.

“You weren’t eating it.”

“That’s not the point.”

“It absolutely is.”

Everyone laughed.

“OK, OK, I’m not going to fight you over a potato.”

“Because you know I’ll win.”

More laughter.

I blushed. I felt a twinge of embarrassment but also a strange kind of pride.

After dessert, everyone drifted back into the living room. Brandon opened another bottle of wine and topped people off.

I was carrying plates back into the kitchen when I overheard Greg speaking quietly with Brandon near the bookshelf.

“He’s different around you,” Greg was saying, “Lighter. Happier.”

“Yeah. The divorce was hard on him, even a couple of years later. But I think we’re figuring things out now. He’s finally moving on.”

“You’re good for him, Brandon.”

“We’re good for each other,” Brandon said, looking over Greg’s shoulder and giving me a grin. “That’s how it’s supposed to be.”

I blushed again. I felt warm and content.

“Well, it’s nice to see it,” Greg responded.

Later, after the guests had gone and I washed up the pots and pans, Brandon came up behind me and slipped his hands around my waist.

“You did great tonight, Dad. The food was excellent and everyone had a great time.”

“Thanks to you. You kept everyone happy and drunk and laughing.”

He spun me around to face him.

“Yeah. We both have our roles. And we play them well. I appreciate that.”

He leaned in to nuzzle my neck. I wondered when my son had gotten so wise and confident.

But I didn’t stop to wonder why I needed that. I simply knew it was true.

Brandon kissed a little trail down my neck and started opening buttons. I shivered.

“You can leave the dishes,” he whispered hoarsely. “They can wait. I can’t.”

I nodded and let him pull me across the room, where he sat on a kitchen chair and pulled me into his lap. He pulled the shirt from my body and kissed the exposed skin, tenderly and with purpose. I could feel him swell down below.

I kissed back while my clumsy fingers fumbled with his shirt buttons. Eventually he took over, got his shirt off, and pressed our bare torsos together.

“You don’t think I’m too old for you?” I whispered.

“Old man, you are just right.”

He winked and I slid off the chair, came to my knees, opened his pants, and took him into my mouth.

Brandon’s dick was hard, in the way that a 22 year old is instantly ready for anything. Even so, I felt it swell bigger in my mouth, testing the limits of my throat.

“Keep going, Dad. Stay with me. I know you can take it all.”

I nodded and gulped him down deeper, inhaling the musky odor of his pubes.

He let me suck him until he was leaking like an old pipe about to burst. Then he pulled me up to standing, dropped my pants, and pushed me down over the back of the chair.

I gripped with my hands as his tongue dipped and dived between my cheeks, finding its way around my rosebud. It opened easily to him now; he had made me into the kind of eager bottom I had never expected to be.

I sighed with relief when he sunk his shaft into me. This is how I felt most alive now: speared on my son’s young, steel-hard dick.

He began to move. Hands on my hips, controlling my body and the rate of entry. Plunging in and pushing against my prostate in a steady rhythm.

Suddenly I flashed on a moment from earlier in the night. It rose up over my bliss and forced me to speak.

“Brandon.”

“Mmmhmmm.”

He didn’t stop his thrusts.

“Why didn’t you say yes to Sonoma?”

“I wanted to make sure it’s what you wanted for Labor Day weekend too.”

“Do you want to?”

“Yes.”

“Then it’s what I want too.”

“Good.”

His thrusts got harder.

“Kind of hot that Greg didn’t even ask me.”

“I noticed that.”

He fucked harder.

“They all know.”

“Know what?”

Brandon was panting. A bead of sweat rolled off his pec and splashed onto my back.

“That I belong to you.”

Brandon grunted and fucked hard, like an animal, I pushed back more.

“That’s what you want, isn’t it, Dad?”

“Yes,” I whimpered.

His dick had swollen to an impossible girth, fully plugging my hole.

“You got it, babe.”

He leaned his sweaty chest onto my back and bit the side of my neck as his cock started pulsing, spilling his load into me. It was so warm.

“You’re mine,” he whispered. “Always and forever.”

I thought back to that strange moment months ago when we simply watching the game and Brandon leaned in to plant on a kiss on me.

My boy knew just what I needed. And he made it happen.

I knew I would follow his lead. Always and forever.

END

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“Kayla told me to return the spare key she had given me, while she’s at work,” Chad explained. “But I thought I might wait here for you.”

“For me?” I responded incredulously.

“Let’s not pretend you’re not attracted to me,” Chad taunted, still stroking his cock. “I know you want me—and my big dick. Now’s your chance, bro.”

“I—I don’t think this is a good idea,” I protested feebly.

“Why not?” he countered. “Your sister dumped my ass. I’m a free man. I can stick my dick wherever I want—and I’m choosing your ass. You know you want this big cock.”

Chad was right. I did want his big cock. I used to eavesdrop on Kayla telling her girlfriends how Chad had a big one—a real pussy splitter—and that it was a lot to take. Sure, she was complaining. But I could tell she secretly loved getting dicked down by a big one. The two of us had that in common. And so it was nearly impossible to turn down Chad’s offer to give me that big dick. But I wasn’t going to make it easy on him.

“You just want to fuck me to get back at my sister for dumping your ass,” I argued.

“Yeah, that’s partly true,” Chad laughed. “But it doesn’t change the fact that you’re a slutty size queen who wants to ride me. It’s a win-win for both of us.”

A win-win. How could I argue with that?

“Okay,” I surrendered far too easily. “You can fuck me.”

“Good,” he smiled wickedly. “Then climb on this cock and ride it.”

Dutifully, I stripped down in front of him. Reaching into my bedside table, I pulled out a bottle of lube and a Trojan.

“You can forget about that condom,” he barked. “Kayla always made me wrap it so she wouldn’t get pregnant. But you’re gonna take my babies, got it?”

“Uh huh,” I nodded, secretly eager to have Chad’s warm load inside me.

Deftly, I lubed up my hole while Chad watched with eager anticipation. “That’s it,” he encouraged. “Get that cunt good and wet for this big dick.”

With my hole readied for him, I tossed the lube aside. Climbing onto the bed, I straddled Chad—and promptly sat upon his big dick, expertly taking him to the balls.

“Fuuuuck,” he exhaled slowly. “Your hole is so fuckin’ tight.”

“Tighter than Kayla’s pussy?”

“Duh,” he laughed. “Now ride this big dick. Ride it like you own it.”

Placing my hands on Chad’s firm pecs, my hard cock resting on his washboard abs, I raised my hips and began to work my hole up and down his swollen shaft. Rhythmically, I worked his cock like a piston, taking every inch of him in and out of me—over and over.

“Fuck, that feels amazing,” he marveled, propping his muscular arms behind his head. “I think you’ve done this before.”

“You think?” I laughed in jest, grinding down on him harder.

“Your sister was always so vanilla when we fucked,” Chad shared as I continued to bob up and down on him. “But you—I always knew you’d be a dirty slut in bed.”

“I think you’ll find I’m nothing like Kayla,” I replied, activating my sphincter, gripping his cock from within me. Expertly, I contracted and released his shaft, massaging his cock inside my depths.

“Holy fuck,” he exhaled, his toes curling. “It’s like you’re jacking my cock with your ass. How the fuck are you doing that?”

“Lots of practice,” I purred, licking my lips, reveling in the feeling of his big cock inside of me—a cock that once belonged to my sister but was now mine.

Eagerly, I began to pick up the pace, riding Chad’s big dick like my life depended on it. Chad’s hands went to my hips, slamming my body up and down on him harder and harder, faster and faster—pushing his cock into my warm depths deeper and deeper. The pace was too fast, his desire too frenzied. It couldn’t last.

“Dude,” he warned, biting his lip, “I think I’m gonna—I’m gonna—FUCK, bro—get ready for it.”

“That’s it,” I encouraged. “Gimme that nut. Fuckin’ breed my ass.”

“FUCK,” Chad grunted in release, his head hitting the wall behind my bed as his body convulsed beneath me, his big cock throbbing rhythmically inside me. A warmth emanated from deep within me as his thick load coated my depths.

With his balls now fully emptied inside me, I quickly dismounted. Upon release, Chad’s wet, cum-slicked cock slapped against his meaty thigh. Ravenously, I dove between his legs and licked his cock clean, sucking the last bit of cum out of his cock slit.

“Damn, you are a dirty slut,” he laughed. “And full service.”

“I aim to please,” I smiled devilishly. “But you better get your ass outta here before Kayla gets home from work. You got what you came for.”

“Shit,” he scrambled off the bed, yanking on his crumpled clothes from off the floor. “Here,” he pulled out the spare key from his pocket. “I better leave this with you.”

“Nah,” I refused. “Keep the key. You can use it whenever you want to fuck me again.”

“Seriously?”

“Absolutely,” I affirmed.

And then Chad did something that I never would have expected—he pulled me into his arms and kissed me, tongue and all.

“I’ll be back later tonight,” he assured me with a slap on the ass. “So plan on giving up that sweet cunt to me again.”

“But—but what about Kayla?” I stammered.

“What about her?” Chad laughed. “Your sister dumped my ass, which means she gets no say as to where I stick my dick.”

“Did—did we fuck last night?” I gasped, my brain trying to comprehend what was happening while still in the throes of a raging hangover. 

“Hell yeah, we fucked last night,” he smiled, rolling on top of me, kissing my neck, his beard scratching my skin. “And the sex was fucking amazing.”

“Christ,” I groaned. “I let you put your dick in me?”

“No, Trevor,” he laughed, kissing down my treasure trail, his beard tickling my belly. “You put your dick in me—and busted two big loads up my ass.”

“But—but Mr. Anderson,” I protested. “I’m not gay—I fuck girls.”

“First, call me Rick,” he insisted. “There’s no need for formalities when you’ve had your dick inside me. And second, you might not be gay—but maybe you should tell that to your rock-hard cock?”

At that moment, Rick took my raging boner into his mouth and began to suck me. Instantly, he was deep throating me, my eight-incher sliding past his tonsils, my balls mashed against his chin. 

“How—how did this happen?” I questioned, fighting the urge to push Rick off me while simultaneously enjoying the best damn head of my life. “The last thing I remember, Dylan and I were tossing back tequila with a couple of hot bitches at Coyote Jake’s,” I recalled. “Oh Christ, does Dylan know that I fucked his own father?”

“Calm down, Trevor,” Rick insisted, releasing my cock from his throat. “Dylan doesn’t know a thing. He’s still sleeping like the dead in his room. You two Ubered here shit-faced drunk at 2 am. I practically carried your wasted asses to Dylan’s room, where you both passed out cold.”

“But how did I end up in here—fucking you?” I demanded. 

“I’m getting to that,” Rick sat up, gripping my hard cock in his fist, pumping it as he spoke. “At some point in the night you stumbled naked into my room, mumbling something about needing to smash some pussy.”

“I—I don’t remember that.”

“No shit,” Rick laughed, straddling my body, still stroking my cock. “You stumbled in here, grabbed that lube there on my bed table, greased up your cock, climbed on top of me in bed, and then shoved your big dick up my ass.”

And at that moment, upon explaining how I had ended up in his bed, Rick sat upon my big cock, taking me into his depths once more. Immediately, I was balls deep in the warmest, tightest hole imaginable.

“Fuuuuuck,” I exhaled, my head tipping back in ecstasy. “You’ve got a sweet cunt.”

“That’s exactly what you said last night when you shoved that big dick into me,” Rick laughed as he began to ride me, his hands upon my chest, his tight sphincter gliding up and down my rigid pole. 

“Yeah, ride this big dick,” I exclaimed, casting off my inhibitions, embracing the act of fucking a dude. Rick’s tight hole was fucking amazing—far better than any pussy I ever had. I might as well enjoy it, I told myself. 

“Fuck, I love riding a hung, young stud like you,” Rick bellowed, his pelvis gyrating atop me, his fuck canal gripping my cock from within. 

“I—I didn’t know that you’re gay,” I admitted, getting my hips into the action, syncing my rhythm with his. 

“After I divorced Dylan’s mom,” Rick began, my cock a piston in his hole. “I topped a few gay dudes, just needing to get my rocks off. But then this one guy convinced me to flip fuck with him and, after experiencing the sheer bliss of a big dick up my ass, there was no turning back.”

“But, don’t you feel like less of a man now?” I suggested. “You know, taking dick from guys?”

“Only a real man can take a cock up his ass,” Rick answered, his muscular, hairy body working my big dick, supporting himself on his powerful thighs. “I never feel more manly then when I’ve got a big cock inside me.”

I had to admit that it was hot watching this hunk of a man as he took charge of my cock, writhing upon it, inching me closer and closer to orgasm. Bitches always tired quickly when trying to ride my big one, but not Rick. He was riding me like a champ, an expert jockey upon a thoroughbred. 

“Fuck, l want your cum,” Rick threw back his head, sweat dripping down his hairy chest as he increased his pace, riding me harder. His thighs slapped heavily against mine with each downbeat, my balls smacking his ass in return. “Breed me,” he begged. 

“You’re about to get it,” I warned, biting my lip, trying to hold back my load. His talented hole was just too good, his expert moves coaxing my balls to give up their seed. “I’m getting close,” I exclaimed, the cum rising in my swelling shaft. 

“Seed me,” he demanded, bucking hard on my engorged cock, my balls beginning to throb. “Shoot that load up my ass.”

“FUCK,” I growled, my cock detonating in his depths, my body convulsing beneath him. “FUCK—FUCK,” I continued to grunt loudly, my load spewing rhythmically, spraying the walls of his fuck canal with my warm seed. 

“That’s it, baby,” Rick encouraged, holding still upon me, reveling in the feeling of my pulsing cock in his depths. “Empty those balls in me.” Slowly, my orgasm ebbed, my balls satiated. 

“Fuck, that was good,” I exhaled as Rick dismounted me, my spent cock flopping audibly against my thigh, my pearly load gushing from his gaping hole. “You’ve got an incredible cunt,” I praised him. “We need to do this again—soon.”

But before Rick could respond, a figure appeared in the doorway. It was my buddy Dylan, leaning against the door jamb with his arms crossed over his hairy chest. He was in his boxer briefs, a look of disgust upon his face. 

“Dylan,” I gasped, trying to cover my cum-slicked cock with my hands. “Don’t be mad, dude. It’s—it’s not what you think.”

“Jesus Christ, Dad,” Dylan reprimanded his father, ignoring me. “Why do you always give up your ass to all of my buddies? It’s really fucked up.”

“Don’t be jealous, Dylan,” Rick pushed himself upwards and onto all fours upon the bed, presenting his available ass to my buddy. “You know that I’ll always let you dump a load in me, anytime you want, son.”

I watched transfixed as Dylan pulled down the front of his briefs, resting the waistband beneath his heavy balls. His thick, eight-incher was raging hard, a drop of precum forming at the tip. Dylan quickly stepped up to the plate, grabbing his dad by the hips as he prepared to mount him. 

“Jesus, Trevor,” Dylan exclaimed, turning his face to me as he pushed balls deep into his father. “You dumped a big fucking load in my dad’s ass. It’s wet as fuck all up in here.”

“You gonna give me some more cum, son?” Rick asked, twerking his used ass upon his son’s thick rod. “Shoot a big load in me?”

“You know it, Dad,” Dylan slapped Rick’s ass before digging into his shoulders, pounding him hard. I delighted in watching my buddy railing his own father as I slowly stroked my big dick, patiently awaiting my turn to pound another load into the slutty DILF.

Carlos, on the other hand, was another story. There wasn’t a wild story that didn’t catch his attention and I found myself helping him and Greg out of situations that I felt Greg should’ve known better than to get involved in. Prime example was the fiasco involving raising Shar-peis. He was absolutely certain that these were the next dog breed to be internet cuties and decided to spend two grand apiece for a pair. Only the silly queen ended up buying two males who might’ve mated a lot, but we’re never going to produce a litter. From my business contacts I found willing purchasers who took them off his hands at four hundred each.

They both felt kind of foolish but I couldn’t stay angry at them over anything. That’s why when Carlos said he found a way to help pay me back for all the help I’d given him, I was at first dubious of the success, but when he and Greg came home from their first night’s venture, each with fifty bucks, I had to step back and give them credit.

Turns out that Carlos found a research lab for a skin care company that needed test subjects for their new products. They were bound by a NDA so they couldn’t tell me all the details of their position, but basically they harvested steroidal compounds from animals and applied it to the skin to see the results. They varied the effects of certain diets to determine the best results with the desired outcome.

Greg and Carlos were responsible for harvesting these steroids through corporate methods and then having it applied to their bodies. As the current batch was for a thick cream called Facial, and was being tested on their cheeks. I could see the dried remains on Greg’s cheek and he had a bit of a rosy glow that I didn’t remember when he left to go to work.

The bottom line was that he and Carlos had passed the initial night of experimentation on multiple test subjects, designed to get a random sampling from multiple sources, supposedly to get a better generic effect on the populace. All I knew was that these two knuckleheads were milking some lab animals and then applying this mixture to their faces to see the effects. And they got paid fifty bucks to do it. And they wanted them to return for the foreseeable future on a three days a week schedule. $150 to make a face cream and apply it… sounds like a job they could handle.

I just enjoyed my three nights to myself as they went out making some spending cash. And judging by the big smile in Greg’s handsome face he liked earning his extra money. Personally I couldn’t see that much of a difference in their cheeks, but if these corporate guys were willing to pay them to play makeup party, who was I to question.

Three months in it was almost like it was always this way. Monday, Wednesday, and Friday I would have a quiet evening until nine o'clock when they finished and came home.

It happened in June when a wrench gummed up things, a Monday night I was expecting to see Greg and kiss his handsome face, which seemed to have a constant smell about it that I couldn’t define. Something in that cream, whatever it was, was very familiar. I do admire Greg for being able to keep the info a secret. I never would have thought he was able to control it, but I still didn’t know what it was!

His beard stubble held the scent though and I often sensed a salty nutty taste when I kissed his cheek but nothing concrete. When he failed to get home by ten O'Clock I began to worry. He said that the boss told him that they were beginning a new line of creams aimed at niche markets called BBC. Because he and Carlos had done so well so far, they had managed to catch the attention of the big bosses and had been promoted to this new line. It also meant that they would be pulling in a hundred bucks every shift as well. I teased him saying that it sounded like they were selling big black cocks instead and he just got indignant like he had a claim in the product. I told him to have a good shift and that I looked forward to seeing his smiling face when he got home. Now an hour overdue and I was beginning to feel a bit uneasy. When eleven came and still no news, I called his phone to check on him. The phone went straight to voice mail.

I went online to his email to find out what I could. Turns out the company he works for, Big Daddy Creams, wasn’t listed online, but I found an email from his boss, Chris. It simply stated what I already knew, that he was chosen to be in the BBC line for a new hemorrhoid cream and would be receiving the adjusted pay rate.

Hemorrhoid cream, well that explains his attitude with me. I still didn’t like that I hadn’t heard from him though. I got the address from a note he had written down and decided to go there and check on him. When I got to the dark warehouse, I saw his two year old Lexus parked in a lot, but it was stripped of parts. I went to the door but it was shut up tighter than a drum. I beat on the door to no avail before calling the cops.

Turns out that they had seen this same modus operandi worked out before. Attractive young men disappear after working for temporary research facility. The last time was six months ago on the west side of town where three college guys were taken while supposedly undercover investigating a gay bar that was suspected of underage clientele.

They took my statement and collected the car remnants with the instructions that I was to report back if I heard anything,

By the time I got home I was feeling lost. I drank a bottle of beer and before turning in,,I checked online once more. To my astonishment there was an email addresses to Greg with the body message alerting me that I was the intended recipient.

I opened it to find a short note stating that Greg would not be returning home. He had successfully completed his run on the new product line and the clients were so impressed with his abilities as well as his handsome body and face that they made an offer to purchase him as well the two others for their stable of sluts.

I was unsure of his status the first shift when we had him sucking the cocks of the clients to extract the face cream, as he was unable to stop himself from swallowing the loads, instead of having the men paint his face white, but the clients were impressed with his desire to please them. It took three cocks before we were able to finally see his face bearing a load. It was magical. In fact, everyone took another trip through his rotation. After the first week he had the highest satisfaction ratings from our regular team of sperm donors.

There was a picture here showing my baby with a recently extracted load on his smiling face while he still held the recent cock that erupted into his face.

This led to him being selected by our latest round of investors when we invited them to see our team of sluts. They were impressed by the full lips and handsome faces but this group were interested in round asses to stuff. So we had our team switch to a hemorrhoid cream and well, the clients were more than excited after sampling the sluts. They bought the whole team and had them relocated to their new African home. I hadn’t worked this particular group before, but I had heard they were well known for procuring attractive white twinks for rent to the hardcore nationalists over there. They were heading to a tattoo shop to mark their new property before they fly out.

I also sold the vehicles in the lot to our local street thugs. I got fifty bucks per car and I didn’t even have to deal with stripping them down. Should’ve seen those busy fuckers go!

Don’t bother trying to trace this email or the business, as I’m sure by now you figured out that it wasn’t a real one after all. The burner account I’m sending this from will be deactivated as well. You can try interpol but by the time they ever find your slut, he’ll be sexually used up, wasted on the cheap local drugs, and probably carrying a variety of STDs. One last thing, Slut’s final paycheck will be mailed to your address. My advice? Get on with your life and don’t let your next slut go out alone.

---

We picked Tony up from his flat and he was welcomed in the backseat with Tony wearing all white: a cap, sneakers, and just shorts with an insean so short it might as well have been briefs. As I was driving out of the city Tony was interviewing Freddie, asking about his humble upbringings and by the time we were on the open road with no traffic and nothing better to do I had Freddie slip off his paper thin mesh shorts to get to softly blowing on Tony's thick hog. "Fuck he's quite a skilled stud, you're quite a lucky man" Tony said through gritted teeth as Freddie went deep down to the hilt and choked a bit as he struggled to take in Tony's entire girth in his throat, though he knew better to release so soon. Anyone who spent more than 10 minutes with us caught on that I basically dominate over Freddie, in all aspects of our partnership. "Yeah, it took a while to tune him to exactly what I like but he didn't have to learn too much since he got a lot of training in prison." "Oh? Freddie's done time huh? For what if I may ask?" Tony remarked looking down to meet Freddie's eyes as I told him to ask Freddie himself. He muffled through an answer after taking the dick out to the head but keeping the gland head still in his mouth. "B&E, sir, got roped in with some guys from my warehouse job, framed me by putting drugs in my bag, was facing 10 years until Sir got me out early."

I nodded looking back in the rearview mirror, "prison warden told me he was the biggest boy getting cored out almost daily, by inmates and guards alike, though I think he did believe Freddie here was innocent enough to give me a call. My first meeting with Freddie and the warden he said he'd do anything to get out, and then the warden showed me how much he trained Freddie's holes by having me try him out. Turns out he's got a sub streak and by the time I got him out early he went from warden's boy to mine. "Wait, you're a lawyer?" Tony asked, "I thought you were his manager." "Can't I be both? He's my pet project, I fucking love turning him out on other guys. Helps that he's a horndog, and that I won't get him cum unless there's a dick up his ass" I laughed as Tony conceeded with a head shrug before moaning as Freddie went to lick his balls. I asked Tony, "you wanna fuck his ass?" Tony nodded, lost in caressing Freddie's face and muscular forearms as Freddie went back to bobbing on his dick. "Too bad, you'll have to wait until we get to Richard's ranch. But you can shoot down his throat, he swallows." It didn't take long for Tony to blow.

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Richard welcomed us in the late afternoon as we settled in. I came out and gave him a hug and a peck on the lips as we were long-time fuck buddies and friends. I didn't bother having Freddie put on his shorts again so he strutted around bringing our and Tony's bags into the home. I say ours but really it's my things and whatever risque jockstraps and thongs I brought for Freddie to pose with as I didn't expect us to need to be modest this weekend. I then had Freddie get spitroasted over by one of Richard's barnyards, had him flex his back muscles as he bent over a bale of hay as Tony got to try his ass and Richard stuffing his mouth. Afterwards Richard and Tony watched as I slow fucked Freddie as we caught up a bit and planned for the weekend.

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