CS Mainia

Cap then gets him roped up in more strict bondage…a spreader bar…guy cant flip onto his stomach…fuck he can barely move…he’s hooded and gagged for the night…

“We’ll try again tomorrow Coach…hehhehheh…”

But I was there to end it with Jess. We were both married to women, and had young kids at home. An illicit passion like ours was fraught with danger. I didn’t need that kind of stress in my life.

Jess coached my son’s youth soccer team, and I was attracted to him from the start. I had been having these feeling for years—little crushes that I would develop on certain guys who crossed my path, lurid fantasies taking over my brain.

It scared the shit out of me at first. I was happily married. My wife and I had a satisfying sex life. And yet I found myself inexplicably attracted to men. But I never acted on my impulses, the guys I desired always oblivious to my intentions—that is until Jess.

“You wanna grab a beer sometime?” Jess asked me after practice one day as I helped him to retrieve errant soccer balls, pick up cones, and load the equipment into his truck.

“Yeah,” I beamed, giddy as a schoolgirl, trying to conceal my elation. “That’d be awesome, man.”

And so we met a few nights later at this dive bar that Jess knew, adjacent to a rundown motel. The place was perfect—a non-trendy bar where two guys could get a beer and chew the shit without loud music or hordes of tipsy women ordering fruity drinks.

We were three beers in, and I was crushing hard on Jess. Sitting side by side at the bar, laughing and surfing several waves of topics with ease, I was delighted to find that we had a lot in common. I was pretty sure one of those commonalities was an attraction to each other.

And then it happened. Jess pressed his leg against mine, our eyes locking, blood surging through my body—and my cock. With any other guy, I would have flinched. I would have pulled away. But instead, I held my leg firmly in place, a communion of sorts passing through our bodies. It was electric. Nearly orgasmic.

“I need to piss,” I finally excused myself when I couldn’t endure it anymore, my head reeling. What the fuck was I doing? I was playing with fire. I needed to thank Jess for a fun guys night out, and then depart quickly before I did something I might regret.

I heard the bathroom door open just as I finished my piss. As I stood at the urinal, shaking off the last few golden drops from my cock, Jess was suddenly behind me. Instantly, his arms wrapped around me, embracing me in a bear hug. His breath was upon me, his lips kissing the nape of my neck softly.

“I want you so bad,” Jess whispered, hot breath at my ear. “I’ve already paid our tab. Meet me at my truck.”

Five minutes later, in a darkened corner of the parking lot, I was in the passenger seat of Jess’s truck, my pants around my ankles. Leaning over, Jess deftly took my eight-incher down his warm throat.

“Fuuuck,” I exhaled, my hand on the back of his head as Jess deep throated me, my balls mashed against his chin. His head bobbing up and down, Jess proceeded to suck me ravenously.

“You’ve done this before,” I teased, relishing the sensation of his tongue traveling up and down my thick shaft.

“Once or twice,” he winked, surfacing briefly for air before returning to my cock. His one hand cupped and caressed my full balls, while the other reached up and massaged my hairy pecs.

Never before had I permitted a guy to go down on me, and I kicked myself for not trying it sooner. Jess’s talented throat put all the past women in my life, including my wife, to shame. The old adage was true—guys give way better head.

I could have let Jess suck me all night, my toes curling in response to his talented mouth, but my balls had other plans. My cock began to throb, thick jizz rising in my swollen shaft. I was helpless to prevent the inevitable.

“I’m gonna nut,” I warned urgently, tapping Jess on the head. “Where do you want me to shoot?”

But Jess ignored my query, locking his lips tighter around my shaft, giving implicit permission for me to bust down his throat. Within seconds, I did just that.

“FUCK,” I barked, my hand braced against the steamy window of his truck. “Here it comes.”

Jess picked up his pace, sucking my big dick like a Hoover as my cock erupted. “FUCK—DAMN,” I bellowed, gripping his head as rope after rope of my creamy seed went flying down his throat.

“Shit, that was good,” I marveled as Jess lapped up the last of my cum, licking my cock clean with his tongue. Soon his lips were at mine, our tongues dancing, the salty taste of my load shared between us.

We parted ways with plans to meet at the same dive bar a few nights later. I had fallen hard for Jess. Never before had I thought I might have a guy in my life for deep friendship and, well, mind-blowing head. Jess was what I had been missing in my life—what I needed.

But then I got scared, frightened by the realization that our illicit affair could never work. Our wives were bound to find out. Things would get messy. I didn’t need that kind of stress in my life. And so I showed up to our next clandestine date with the intention of ending things with Jess. It was the right thing to do.

Jess was already at the bar when I arrived, nursing a beer. Fuck, he looked hot. As he glanced back at me, our eyes locking in mutual desire, I wanted to consume every inch of his body. But I wasn’t going to let that happen.

The bartender brought me a beer. Jess asked about my day, but I was nervous, distant. When his leg found mine like the time before, I flinched and pulled away.

“What’s going on with you, bud?” Jess asked tenderly. “Did I do something wrong?”

“I—I can’t do this with you,” I stammered, fighting back my emotions. “Jesus, man. We’re both married. We’ve got families. And yet I can’t think about anything but you. It’s not right.”

But Jess made no response. Instead, he pulled a tarnished brass key out of his pocket and placed it on the bar top. It was attached to a worn, plastic keychain with the number 204 embossed in faded gold.

“Is that to—?” I began to ask.

“The motel next door,” Jess cut me off. “I got us a room. I was kinda hoping you might want to fuck my ass. But if you don’t think you want to—”

“No—I want to,” I blurted out, grabbing the room key off the bar top before I could change my mind.

Atop the seedy motel bed that night, I dumped three loads into Jess’s eager ass. The sheets were soaked with sweat and cum by the time we parted ways to head home to our wives. But on the drive home, the taste of Jess still on my tongue, I realized that maybe—just maybe—having him in my life was exactly what I needed.

Now he felt his own fat 🥜 grabbed - one in each of his opponent's hands - and felt the pressure build on his most delicate parts.

He let out a strangled scream as the pain & nausea exploded deep in his guts. His body thrashed, flexed, and writhed as the man tried desperately to save his masculine orbs from that crushing grip. But all in vain.

His opponent dug his thumbs deep into the flesh that held the younger man's hopes for future children. As he felt the orbs in his fist warp, he couldn't help but chuckle as the young man's soft tool flopped helplessly back and forth as his body struggled against the pain. He could feel the young man's disbelief and panic. It's what he lived for. Well, that and the feeling that came when a healthy set of 🥜 finally succumbed and burst into mush.

He shrugged. It was time to give this kid the ultimate vasectomy. Full pressure applied.

The young man thought that his pain couldn't get worse. No coherent thoughts could form beyond the panic and pain shooting from an area he had only felt pleasure from his whole short life. And then the pressure increased exponentially. His body went completely rigid. His voice let out the last of its air in a high screech. And he felt that terrifying, final feeling - one that all men fear and that a man can only feel once in his life - of his own precious nuts losing their lovely oval shape and bursting into two loose bundles of mush. A white flash of supreme agony overcame his mind.

They were gone. His boys! He'd grown up with them, protected them in sports, had girlfriends hold them lovingly, and he had always hoped they might make him a father one day. All gone.

The sweat that had been building from his exertions and struggles to stay a man suddenly turned icy cold. The tension in his muscles collapsed into neutered despair. His eyes which had been scrunched shut in painful grit simply lay open, gazing in disbelief at a world so suddenly changed.

The young man was left shivering in shock. Tears would come later. Many many tears. But for now he simply lay shivering, just barely coming to grips with his new status as a eunuch.

“Your sorry ass is coming out with me tonight,” my roommate Finn had insisted earlier that evening.

“Ugh. Just leave me alone,” I protested.

“Dude,” Finn scoffed. “You haven’t left this apartment since Reese dumped you two weeks ago. You need to get out. You need to get laid. It’s the only way you’re gonna move on.”

“Fine,” I acquiesced, rummaging through the pile of neglected laundry in the corner of my room for something to wear.

“Put on your CK jeans—the tight ones,” Finn insisted. “They make your dick look huge.”

Thirty minutes and one Uber ride later, we were standing in line to get into Club Throb, the new gay club in the Village.

“Christ,” I groaned, spotting several guys in line wearing cowboy boots and Stetson hats. “You didn’t tell me it’s country western night.”

“Like it fucking matters,” Finn objected. “The only goal here tonight is to get your dick wet.”

Once inside, the dance floor was a sea of twinks, clad in boots and Daisy Dukes, grinding up against any warm body that parted their waters while Tim McGraw blasted from the DJ booth.

“See anything you like?” Finn asked as we sipped our vodka tonics at the bar and looked out at the dance floor. “There’s gotta be some piece of ass out there who you’d like to fuck.”

“Nothing yet,” I lied, for my eyes had settled on one particular guy on the dance floor. Tall and statuesque in a pair of boots, he looked cute as fuck with a lollipop stick hanging out of one side of his mouth. Dancing alone in the middle of the floor, the dance floor lights illuminated his every move.

And then it happened—he looked toward the bar and locked eyes with me. I gave a bashful smile as he rolled the lollipop from one corner of his mouth to the other. And then he was parting the floor, making a bee line towards me.

“I’m Owen,” he smiled as he approached me, never taking the lollipop out of his mouth.

“Uh—I’m Martin,” I stammered. “And this is my roommate—” I turned toward Finn, but he had already abandoned me, leaving me to sink or swim on my own with Owen.

Never good at small talk, I suddenly felt dumb and awkward in front of Owen. Standing in front of me, his shirt undone to show off his lithe body, I realized he was several years younger than me, probably just barely old enough to get into the club. I found myself looking down at his boots, which appeared to be too big for him.

“They’re my dad’s boots,” Owen explained, noting I was staring at them. “I borrowed them for tonight. You kinda remind me of my dad,” he smiled.

“Jesus,” I laughed. “Because I’m older than you?”

“No,” Owen shook his head. “Because you’re, like, really handsome. You wanna dance?”

“Um—sure,” I answered, still taken aback that this cute, young guy was into me. “Lemme just finish this drink first.”

Unwilling to wait, Owen grabbed the vodka tonic out of my hand and, tipping it back with the lollipop still in his mouth, downed the drink in one, quick gulp. “Now it’s finished,” Owen winked, slamming the empty tumbler down on the bar top and leading me out into the crowd.

Our chemistry on the dance floor was unreal. Owen pushed his body against mine, grinding into me. He smelled amazing—an intoxicating mix of sweat and Sauvage cologne, with a slight undertone of cherries from his lollipop. Gyrating his ass against my crotch, my big dick hardening in response, there was no question that Owen was down to fuck.

“You wanna get out of here?” I shouted into his ear, struggling to be heard over a Rascal Flatts song that was booming through the club. “Come back to my place?”

“No. I want you inside me now,” Owen shouted back. “Meet me in the men’s room, last stall.” But before I could protest, Owen had slipped away from me, charging through the crowd towards the men’s room.

I’m no prude. I know guys fuck in the men’s room at gay clubs all the time, but shit like that had never been my scene. I felt conflicted. I liked Owen, and I really wanted to fuck him, but I couldn’t wrap my brain around a tawdry, toilet-stall fuck. Just then, my roommate Finn appeared at my side.

“What happened to the hottie, the one you were dancing with?” Finn asked, scanning the club.

“He—uh—he wants me to fuck his ass in the men’s room,” I explained hesitantly.

“Then why the fuck are you standing out here?” Finn demanded. “Get your ass in that men’s room and fuck the shit out of that hot, little twink. Dude. You need to live a little.”

Finn was right. I needed to live, and I needed to get over my bad breakup with Reese. Fucking Owen in the men’s room at Club Throb was just what the doctor ordered. Pushing my way through the crowd, I made my way to the men’s room.

Owen was sitting on top of the toilet in the last stall, his boots spread wide, sucking his lollipop. “You want a taste?” he taunted, holding out the lollipop, his tongue stained cherry red.

“Yeah,” I replied, taking his lollipop into my mouth, a burst of cherry on my tongue as I pushed the stick to the corner of my mouth. “But I want more from you than this fucking lollipop.”

“It’s all yours,” Owen responded, standing and dropping his pants, bracing himself against the toilet, his firm ass presented for my use. His hole looked wet and puffy—unquestionably used.

“You already had some cock in here tonight?” I asked, my finger probing his cummy hole.

“Yeah,” he turned back and winked. “One or two—or five,” he laughed. “Why not make it number six?”

Normally, I’m not the type to go around fucking sloppy cum dumps. But I couldn’t turn down Owen’s ass. He was hot as fuck, and his pink cunt, rimmed with a fine layer of downy fur, was just begging to be defiled. With his lollipop still in my mouth, I unzipped my pants, pulled out my hard eight-incher, and mounted Owen with one, quick thrust.

“Fuck, you’re thick,” Owen gasped, bracing himself against the toilet. “Damn, you’ve got a hole stretcher.”

“Glad you like it,” I replied, raising his ass to go deeper. His wet cunt felt incredible and was exactly what I needed. Grabbing Owen by the shoulders, I began a calculated assault on his ass, with the goal of dumping a massive load inside his used hole.

“Yeah, fuck me,” Owen moaned. “Fucking destroy my hole.”

Giving him his wish, I began to jackhammer his hole at a frenzied pace. My balls were slapping hard against his ass, when I looked over my shoulder and realized I hadn’t closed the stall door. A voyeuristic crowd of guys had gathered in the men’s room to watch us.

“Yeah—fuck his ass,” called out one guy.

“I’m next to plug him,” laughed another.

Plowing Owen’s ass with a crowd watching and cheering me on from behind was a major turn on. I wanted to last longer in his amazing cunt, but it was a losing battle. The cum rising in my shaft, I knew my load was imminent.

“I’m about to bust,” I warned Owen urgently, giving him one, last, deep thrust.

“Yeah, breed me,” Owen begged.

“Seed that cum dump,” shouted someone in the crowd, just as my nuts contracted and expelled my load deep inside Owen, flooding his guts.

“Fuck, that was good,” I exhaled, pulling out of Owen, my load dripping from his wrecked hole with an audible splat on the tiled floor. “Lemme buy you a drink,” I offered Owen as I stuffed my spent cock back into my jeans.

“Um—I think I’m gonna stay in here a bit longer,” he replied, eyeing the eager crowd of horny guys who had gathered in the men’s room.

“Oh—uh—sure,” I agreed, suddenly feeling a bit dejected. “You want your lollipop back?” I offered, taking it from my mouth.

“You keep it,” Owen winked.

“I’d rather have your number,” I replied, sucking on the lollipop again. “I’d love to see you again.”

“Sure, man,” Owen agreed. “Give me your phone.” Owen quickly tapped out his number in my list of contacts, and returned the phone to me.

“Thanks,” I offered sheepishly, stepping aside as the next guy entered the stall, his pants already unzipped, his hard cock eager to be inside Owen’s wet, used hole.

Staggering back into the booming sound of the club, I tried to find Finn. I finally spotted him on the dance floor, grinding up against a burly bearded guy in leather chaps. Good for him, I smiled to myself.

Leaving the heated frenzy of Club Throb, I stood in the cool night air of the sidewalk and summoned an Uber. Snug in my bed a half hour later, my balls emptied, I slept like a baby.

I waited three days before calling Owen, as I didn’t want to seem too desperate to see him again. With my heart in my throat, I dialed his number. A woman answered. The number he had given me was to a boutique candy shop in SoHo, specializing in lollipops. She didn’t know anyone named Owen.

Fucker.

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

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In that moment, I wished I could stop time and keep Chase in my bed like that forever. The number one rule between fuckbuds is that you don’t fall in love. But I had fallen for Chase—hard. So much so, that I had begun to wonder if I needed to step away from him and our frequent hookups. Chase had a long-time girlfriend, and I knew what that meant for me—he would never be mine.

“Don’t you need to get home to your girlfriend?” I finally asked when he didn’t seem to be making any overture to leaving.

“No—uh—Monica and I broke up on Monday,” he answered, “after I was here with you.”

“Shit,” I gasped. “She didn’t find out about me, did she? I’ve been really careful to not tell any of my friends that—”

“No—no,” he cut me off. “She didn’t find out about you. It was nothing like that.”

“Whew,” I exhaled, climbing into bed next to him. “Still—I’m really sorry you two broke up. I know you were together for a long time.”

“It is what it is,” Chase sighed with a shrug before turning towards me. “Would—would you mind if I stayed here tonight? Is that okay?”

“Sure—of course you can stay,” I replied eagerly, for Chase had never wanted to stay the night. He was always the type to pump, dump, and go—rushing home to his girlfriend, his thick load still dripping from my wrecked hole. “I’ve gotta be up early for work, if that’s not a problem.”

“No problem at all,” he smiled, pulling me into his arms.

What was happening? This wasn’t the usual Chase—the hot guy with a girlfriend who I flirted with at the gym many months ago. He followed me home to dump a load in me that fateful first time, my easy ass bent over the edge of the bed for him. Chase didn’t like to talk, Chase didn’t like to cuddle, and Chase didn’t like to kiss. Chase only liked to fuck.

Suddenly, he rolled over on top of me, his lips meeting mine, his tongue darting into my mouth. Christ, he was a good kisser. As he tongue-fucked me, I could feel him pushing my legs apart, his hard cock seeking my used, puffy hole. Instinctively, I wrapped my legs around him, surprised that he wanted to fuck me missionary when his typical preference was to use me from behind.

“Fuck,” I winced as he pushed his thick eight-incher into me.

“You okay?” he paused.

“Yeah—just a little sore from the rough pounding you gave me earlier,” I replied with a laugh. “But I’ll be fine.”

Chase’s lips returned to mine, kissing me deeply as his big dick thrusted inside of me. I was overwhelmed—consumed by his body.

His usual fucking was often just a violent pounding, a rapid assault on my hole with his goal being to nut in me as fast as possible. But this time was different. There was a rhythm to his fucking, a purpose—an awareness that I was actually a living, breathing person, and not just a hole in which to dump his load.

“You feel so good,” he exhaled into my neck, his breath warm upon me. “I fucking love being inside you.”

“Yeah, fuck me with that big dick,” I begged greedily, grabbing his ass, pulling him into me. “Fucking give it to me.”

Emboldened, he pushed my knees into my chest with his strong arms. Raising my ass, he pushed deeper inside of me. From my admittedly extensive experience as a bottom, I had found that tops never last long in that position. Chase was no exception.

“Fuck—I’m gonna cum,” he announced urgently, pounding me harder. “Christ—here it comes.”

“Yeah, breed my fucking hole,” I cried, elated by the feeling of his cock swelling and pulsing inside of me, his load spewing into my depths, joining his swimmers who were already inside me. If I had been a fertile woman, conception would have been guaranteed given the sheer amount of his sperm inside me.

Chase collapsed upon me, his breath at my neck again as his balls finally emptied. “God, I love—” he paused. “I love—this.”

“I love this, too,” I whispered, stopping myself from saying: I love you. Stroking his back as he stayed inside of me, his breathing slowly returning to normal, I felt a deep sense of belonging. I could have stayed like that with Chase for eternity—melded as one.

Chase eventually rolled off me, a gaping vacuum left inside me where his big cock had just been. Pulling me into his arms again, stroking my cheek, he exhaled a deep sigh of contentment. Was this how he had been with his girlfriend—attentive and tender? And if so, why in the hell did they break up?

“You—you wanna tell me what happened between you and Monica?” I ventured tentatively, not wanting to appear nosy. “But if you’d rather not talk—”

“No—it’s cool,” he interrupted me. “I broke up with her because—because I’m in love with someone else.”

“Wow,” I gasped, taken aback. “Who is she? A girl from work, or someone you—”

“No—you silly fool,” he laughed, pulling me into him tighter. “I’m in love with you.”

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

“It’ll be wonderful,” Aaron squeezed me harder. “You’ve gone to so much trouble for him. My asshole father doesn’t deserve it.”

“I just want your dad to like me,” I turned to face Aaron. “I can tell he doesn’t like me much.”

“That’s not true,” Aaron dismissed. “He doesn’t like us—that we’re gay. He’s never been comfortable with my sexuality. He’s a homophobic bigot. It’s no wonder why my mom divorced him years ago.”

“I’m sorry you had to grow up with a dad like that,” I hugged Aaron. 

“We don’t get to choose our parents,” he kissed me. “We’d better get dressed. Dad is going to be here any minute.”

Ten minutes later, Aaron was buzzing up Frank to our apartment. I had met his father several times before, and was always struck by how much Aaron favored his handsome father. Frank was a bit more muscular than Aaron, and sported a trimmed beard with flecks of silver. Otherwise, it was like seeing a preview of Aaron in twenty-five years, and I liked what I saw. Frank was definitely a DILF. 

“Dinner won’t be ready for another hour,” Aaron informed Frank when he arrived, taking his jacket. “Can I get you a beer or a glass of wine while we wait?”

“I’m gonna need something stronger,” his dad answered, taking a seat on our living room couch as his eyes appraised the framed photos of Aaron and me on the fireplace mantle. “You got any scotch?”

“Umm—no, sorry,” Aaron apologized. “We’re not so much into the hard stuff at home. But I think you’d like—”

“Here’s some cash,” Frank pulled out his wallet, handing a couple of twenties to Aaron. “Be a good boy and run down to the liquor store and get me some scotch.”

“I’m—I’m not sure the liquor store is even open today, Dad,” Aaron stammered. “It’s Thanksgiving.”

“Nonsense,” Frank replied. “There’s that 24-hour liquor store over on Fulton. They never close.”

“Fulton?” Aaron gasped. “That’s like twenty blocks away. It’ll take me almost an hour to walk there and back.”

“That’s perfect,” Frank replied. “Dinner will be ready by the time you return. And I’ve been wanting to have a little chat with your—uh—boyfriend,” he eyed me. 

Aaron acquiesced to his dad, grabbing his jacket before making the long trek to the liquor store. “Text me if my dad says anything to offend you,” Aaron whispered in my ear, “and I’ll come back right away. I’m not going to put up with any of his foolish bigotry in our home on Thanksgiving.”

I had never been alone with Frank, and felt like I’d been locked in a cage with a wild tiger once Aaron had left. I knew I had to make small talk, to find some way to connect with my boyfriend’s dad. But my nerves got the best of me, and so I excused myself to the kitchen to check on dinner. 

“It smells good in here,” Frank announced, entering the kitchen as I stood at the sink, rinsing green beans in a colander before getting them on the stove. “And that pie looks delicious.”

“Thank you,” I acknowledged, my back to Frank. “I was going to bake a pumpkin pie, but Aaron told me that blackberry is your favorite.”

“You’ve worked so hard,” he continued, suddenly behind me, his hands resting upon my shoulders. “I want you to know how much I appreciate you and all that you do for my son.”

Franks fingers began to dig into my tense shoulders, massaging me. His hands moved down my spine, working out my stress. Suddenly his arms were wrapping around my torso, embracing me, pulling me into him. I could feel his hard cock through his pants, pressed against my round ass. 

“You want some dick, boy?” his breath was hot at my ear, his hands reaching down to undo my belt. “You gonna let me fuck you?”

“What the fuck is happening?” I screeched, shocked by the sudden turn of events. “You fuck guys?!”

“I learned one thing after my divorce,” he answered, unzipping my jeans from behind, pulling them down to expose my ass to him. “Getting my big dick into some random gay dude is ten times easier than getting into some bitch’s snatch.”

With my pants around my ankles, I listened as Frank undid his pants, preparing to fuck me up against the kitchen sink. Was this really happening? Could I really let my boyfriend’s dad fuck me?

I had always gotten off on hate fucks, as I called them. Like that time in college when a jock in my dorm called me a faggot after catching me sucking off some dude in a stairwell. The jock then fucked my ass in the stairwell the next day, calling me a dirty faggot as he grunted his load into me. I loved every minute of it. Taking Frank’s cock would be kind of like that. 

And there was also the issue of my extreme desire to be liked by Frank. Maybe giving up my ass to him would finally win his approval? It could help to smooth things over between Aaron and his dad. It would be a small price to pay, especially since I was a slut for cock. Aaron knew that about me, and never objected to fucking my sloppy hole after I’d taken a load or two in the gym sauna. 

The sound of Frank spitting on his cock brought me back to reality. In truth, I wanted him to fuck me. And as his fat cock head began to breech my sphincter, his hands on my hips, I gripped the sink and braced for impact. 

“FUCK,” I gasped as Frank pushed into me, splitting my hole in two. “Jesus, you’re big.”

“Bigger than my son?”

“Yeah,” I admitted. “A lot bigger.”

I felt bad for talking about Aaron’s manhood with his dad, but it was true. Though my boyfriend was certainly not lacking in size, his dad’s huge cock was no comparison. And having it up my ass, routing my depths, was sheer bliss. 

“Yeah, fuck my hole with that big cock,” I begged like a bitch in heat. “Fucking destroy my cunt.”

“Your wish is my command,” Frank replied, digging his hands into my hips, forcing me into sync with his rapid rhythm. 

He was pounding the shit out of me, my body slamming into the edge of the kitchen sink over and over. Moving one hand to my back, he pushed me forward, my head nearly in the sink, as he adjusted the angle. 

The change in position was incredible, his big dick sliding even deeper into me, his cock head breeching my inner-sphincter. My eyes rolled back into my head as Frank continued his tumultuous assault on my hole. Though the man was a fuck machine, I could tell he was rapidly running out of gas. 

“Fuck, I’m close,” he panted in my ear, his breathing ragged. “You gonna take my nut? Let me cum in your pussy?”

“Breed me,” I pleaded. “Fuckin’ dump that load in me. 

“CHRIST,” Frank gasped loudly, delivering a rapid succession of thrusts. “Here it comes—FUCK—SHIT.”

Gripping the sink, I could feel his big dick discharging in my depths, his cock pulsing rapidly, his load spewing into my cavernous void. I reveled in the naughtiness of being bred by my boyfriend’s father. 

“Mmm yeah, breed me,” I moaned, his warm load coating my bowels. “Fucking seed this hole.”

When the ride had ended, when his balls had fully discharged, Frank pulled out of me, his cock slicked with his pearly load. I quickly turned around and, dropping to my knees, sucked his cummy cock until it was clean. 

“I’m gonna take a nap on the couch until my son gets back with my scotch,” Frank announced, stuffing his spent dick into his pants, zipping up his fly. “I trust you won’t go blabbing to Aaron that I fucked you?”

“My lips are sealed,” I assured him, reaching for the paper towel roll on the counter to wipe up the stream of warm cum that was running down my leg. 

Aaron arrived home twenty minutes later, a bottle of scotch wrapped in a crumpled brown paper bag. After he and his dad shared a drink, clinking glasses in honor of Thanksgiving, we sat down to our turkey dinner. 

“Dad was like a completely different man when I got home from the liquor store,” Aaron reflected as we climbed into bed naked that night. “He was talkative and complimentary of the meal. He even ate two pieces of your pie. What did you two talk about while I was gone? You must have said something to put him in a good mood.”

“Oh—I don’t know,” I demurred. 

“Maybe it wasn’t anything you said to my dad,” Aaron surmised while rolling on top of me, pushing my legs apart. “Maybe it was something you did for him.”

And then Aaron’s finger found my hole, still puffy and sore from Frank’s big cock. His finger slid into me, probing my used, wet cunt. 

“You let my dad fuck you,” Aaron accused, withdrawing a cummy finger. “Didn’t you?”

“Aaron,” I pleaded. “Please don’t be mad. It all happened so fast. I couldn’t stop him from—”

“Babe, don’t worry,” he silenced me, pushing my legs to my chest, his hard cock sliding easily into my puffy hole. 

“If giving up your ass to my dad helped to finally change his attitude towards us, who am I to get mad about it?”

“You’re—you’re not mad?” I beseeched, opening my legs wider for him. 

“Nah,” Aaron thrusted deeper. “I knew something was up when Dad asked if he could come over for brunch this Sunday.”

“Brunch?” I reacted in surprise, my boyfriend’s cock gliding in and out of me at a rapid pace, his rod slicked with his dad’s pearly load.  

“Yeah, brunch,” Aaron laughed, pummeling me harder. “And I bet that horny fucker will send me out to get champagne for mimosas, just so he can fuck you again.”

I was supposed to be at our beach house with the family for another week, but work intervened with a client emergency. Leaving the family behind, I returned home. Pulling up to our house, I was surprised to see the red Mustang belonging to my daughter’s boyfriend parked in the driveway.

Devin and my daughter Stacie had started dating after high school graduation. I had suspected he had a key to our house, as he often snuck in to fuck Stacie late at night. As if I couldn’t hear him grunting his load into my daughter from two rooms away? I liked the boy, so I ignored the fact that they were having frequent sex under my roof.

But what was Devin doing in our house when Stacie was still at the beach with the rest of the family? I suspected the horny fucker was using our place to fuck other girls while we were away, and I aimed to catch him red handed.

Slipping through a side door, I could hear soft moaning and the muffled sound of Devin’s voice coming from upstairs. I climbed the stairs slowly, discovering that the sounds were emanating from Stacie’s bedroom. But as I lurked in the open doorway, nothing could have prepared me for what I witnessed.

Devin was in my daughter’s clothing—a stretch, hot-pink tube top that strained against his muscular pecs, and a white miniskirt that he couldn’t zip up over his meaty ass. Around his neck was a dainty pearl necklace that my daughter received for her thirteenth birthday, pilfered from her ballerina jewelry box on the dresser.

Devin was in front of a floor-length mirror in the corner of the room, oblivious that I was watching him. Primping and admiring his appearance from every angle, he reminded me of Stacie playing dress up when she was little.

“You’ve been a bad girl,” Devin scolded his mirror reflection. “And you know what happens to bad girls.”

He then bent over to retrieve something, giving me an unobstructed view of his bare ass under the skirt. Grabbing a dildo off the floor—roughly eight inches and flesh tone with a pair of silicone balls attached—Devin reached around and brought the tip of the faux dick to his puckered hole.

“You know what Daddy does to bad girls?” he demanded of himself in the mirror, pushing the dildo into him. “Bad girls get Daddy’s big cock.”

And then I watched in shock as Devin fucked himself with the dildo, a mixture of awe and dismay upon my face. It was all so naughty, so deliciously taboo. I was privy to another man’s sickest, most twisted fantasy. Devin was giving it to himself hard, moaning and grinding on that fake dick while watching himself in the mirror. Devin’s deep, dark secret was causing my cock to stir.

My own deep, dark secret was that I used to fuck guys during my days in the navy. Weeks at sea with only my right hand and a sock as a cum catcher, it wasn’t long before I was discreetly slipping it to that one sailor who was perpetually bent over in the showers, the proverbial soap always escaping his grasp. Jesus, his ass was incredible. Tight with no end to its depths, I would dump gallons of cum in that greedy cunt by the time we returned to port.

“Mmm, yeah. Fuck me, Daddy,” Devin moaned into the mirror, pulling me back to reality, the silicone cock balls deep in him. “Fuck me with your big cock.”

I couldn’t take it anymore. I was jealous of that ridiculous dildo. What the boy needed was a real cock—warm to the touch and primed with cum—instead of an inanimate rubber rod. Tired of being a passive witness, I decided to join in on the fun.

“I didn’t know you like cock,” I announced, entering Stacie’s bedroom, rubbing my bulging crotch through my pants.

“Jesus—OH FUCK,” Devin startled, the dildo slipping from his grasp and ejecting from his cunt with an audible thunk on the wood floor. “Mr. Cunningham—what—what are you doing home? OH SHIT—is Stacie here?”

“Calm down—calm down,” I shushed the boy. “Stacie is still at the beach with the rest of the family. I came home early for work.”

“I—I can explain,” Devin stammered, yanking off Stacie’s ill-fitting clothes, kicking the dildo towards his own crumpled clothes in the corner. “I know it looks fucked up, but it’s just a stupid game I like to—”

“Devin—Devin,” I interrupted. “You don’t need to explain. All men have these secret proclivities buried deep inside. Do you want to know mine?”

“Uh—sure,” he nodded hesitantly, naked and covering his floppy cock with one hand.

“I love fucking ass,” I declared, unzipping my pants, unleashing my hard nine-incher. “You want this big cock—a real cock—up that tight ass?”

“Fuck yes,” he admitted eagerly, his eyes wide and fixated on my big dick. “I’ve been—I’ve been a bad girl,” he declared tentatively, climbing onto the bed. “A bad, bad girl.”

“Oh my,” I replied, playing along as I stripped off my clothes, tossing them on the floor. “Do you know what happens to bad girls?”

“Uh huh,” Devin answered, reclining on the bed, opening his legs for me, his cunt wet and ready. “Bad girls get Daddy’s big cock.”

“That’s right,” I nodded climbing between his legs, the tip of my cock pressed against the pink folds of his pussy. “Bad girls get Daddy’s big, fucking cock.”

And then I plunged into him, his fuck canal already stretched open by the dildo. Holy shit, his warm hole felt good—way better than my wife’s worn out birthing tunnel. Deftly, I began to deliver a series of deep thrusts into his boy pussy.

“Fuck me, Daddy,” he begged, his legs spread wide, my daughter’s pearl necklace still around his neck as I fucked him on her bed. “I’ve been a bad girl,” he moaned, my cock destroying his pussy.

The idea that my big cock was buried in my daughter’s boyfriend was surreal. Coupled with the fact that I was fucking him on the same bed in which he so often dumped his load into my daughter, I couldn’t believe that I was engaged in such a dark, twisted act. In truth, I was fucking loving it.

“Does my little girl like Daddy’s big cock?” I demanded. “Does she like feeling it in her tight pussy?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Devin exhaled, his hands on my ass, pulling me deeper into him. “I love your big cock, Daddy.”

The role play and dirty talk was fucked up, but so deliciously hot. Emboldened by it, I began to pound Devin harder. Raising myself into a plank, Devin’s legs wrapping around me, I began to jackhammer his quivering cunt. I knew I wouldn’t last long in that position, for I could tell my tight balls were already feeling ready to pop.

“You want my cum, baby girl?” I taunted, sweat dripping down my hairy chest. “You want Daddy to bust his nut in your tight, little pussy?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Devin begged, his sphincter tightening around the base of my cock. “Fill me with your seed, Daddy. Make a baby in me.”

I glanced down at Devin’s hole, my big cock buried in him as my load traversed the length of my shaft, the orgasmic pressure throbbing in my balls. “FUCK,” I grunted upon release, my cock pulsing rhythmically in his depths, my cum coating his bowels.

“Mmm, Daddy,” he moaned, my full balls emptying in him. “Your cum feels so warm inside me.”

“Fuck that was good,” I announced, pulling out of Devin when I had finished, my pearly load dripping from his wrecked cunt.

“You’re—you’re not gonna tell Stacie about this?” he ventured awkwardly as he climbed off the bed, his voice an octave lower again, the baby girl talk abandoned. “I don’t think she would—”

“Relax,” I cut him off, reaching for my clothes. “What would I tell Stacie? That her boyfriend likes dressing up like a girl? And that I fucked him up the ass?”

“Yeah, I guess that sounds too fucked up to be true,” Devin laughed, a wave of relief washing over him as he pulled on his shorts and t-shirt. He removed Stacie’s pearl necklace and returned it to the jewelry box. “Well—I’ll get out of your hair now,” Devin declared, about to leave.

“Wait a minute,” I stopped him, eyeing my daughter’s crumpled skirt and pink top in the corner, along with his discarded dildo, greased up with lube. “You’ve left a mess there on the floor. You’ve been a bad girl.”

“Yes,” Devin’s eyes lit up. “I made a big mess. I’ve been a very bad girl.”

“You know what happens to bad girls?” I taunted, removing my clothes once more, my cock rock hard.

“Bad girls get Daddy’s big cock,” Devin answered with a devious smile, pulling off his shorts and climbing back onto the bed, his used pussy presented to me. “Fuck me, Daddy,” he begged once more.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s wrong with here?”

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

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

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

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

“Yeah—is that okay?”

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

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

“Fuck yes,” I blurted out. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You guys having a party?”

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

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

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

“Jack off in here?” I surmised. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I had never been face fucked so good.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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