Things that turn me on

(Heads up: long read!)

Previously…

Hunter served up the drinks, and Dan passed them around. Troy looked surprised, but raised his glass with a grin. “I feel like I should be buying you a drink for that performance you just gave,” he said, and the way he looked at Dan, just like he’d looked at him, made Ian’s insides all hot, curious and amused and protective and a little jealous all at once.

“Hell, I’m pretty confident that performance just won me first prize,” Dan said with a proud tilt to his chin, slinging his arm easily round Ian’s neck as he lifted his own glass. “Which means I ain’t paying for these anyway.”

The two men laughed uproariously at that and clinked their glasses together, and then they both looked at Ian, and he was damned if he could see much of a difference in the way his father was looking at him right now, and the openly interested and available way Troy was. 

“Looks like I can’t buy either of you a drink, then,” Troy said to him, his gaze warm and level. “That’s a shame.” He sipped on his drink, his eyes on Ian’s the whole time, and Ian felt himself blush.

“You mean to tell me this nice gentleman offered to buy you a drink, and you declined?” Dan said to Ian with a big half-buzzed grin, and the direct aim of his playful charm, along with the dense, familiar musk emanating from his pit and swirling all around Ian’s head like a fog suddenly had his balls aching. “Well that’s not gonna get you very far, is it buddy?”

*   *   *   *   *

Once Ian gave up on trying to get a handle on the night and where it might end up going, he felt immediately looser. It wasn’t just the drinks, either, even though Hunter kept treating them to generous pours, spurred on by the handsome tip his father had laid down on the bar. He figured if his father was so relaxed and having such a good time, he might as well be too. After all, it was Father’s Day, or getting pretty close to it, technically speaking. What better way to celebrate it than by having a good, albeit crazy time together?

Fuck it. Ian and his Dad had had plenty of crazy little adventures together, and they’d both come out the other side in good shape, or so it mostly seemed. Maybe other fathers and sons didn’t do the kinds of things they’d done, and had a good time doing. He was pretty sure none of his high school buddies had never gotten halfway blitzed with their dads and wound up jacking off on the beach together. If they had, he wondered if they still thought about it as much as he did. Like he was right now, in fact, Dan leaning easy and shirtless against him while they propped up the bar, another handsome man flirting with him, and shooting a little game his father’s way too.

Buddy, if you only knew… Ian thought with a smile as he listened to Troy talk, watched the way his face and hands moved, eyed the firm, fit swells of his chest and shoulders and arms. And what if he did? Ian wondered if he’d be freaked out, or… feeling some other kind of way about it. He wondered what the guy would picture in his head, if he knew they were father and son. Maybe he was already picturing the two of them like that. Would knowing who they actually were kill it, or make it even more intense for him?

But while I took my part in mocking Mr. Patton with my buddies, I’d struggle to suppress an eager grin whenever he was around. Ridiculous as he was, I couldn’t deny that he was one Grade A DILF. 

As a kid, it had been just harmless lust, but as a young man it became much more. Every time Mr. Patton came around, I’d catch that look in his eyes when he glanced at me. He joked and chatted like usual, but not to me. 

I made an excuse. Faked a call from my mom or pretended to remember something I needed to do—I can’t quite recall. 

Fifteen minutes later, Mr. Patton had me on my knees servicing his fat daddy dick. The thoroughly unassuming suburban man had perhaps the meatiest slab of man flesh I’d ever seen, even in porn.

The blowjob was a formality, something to get his juices flowing, but I could never get my throat open wide enough to swallow more than a third of the man in my mouth. His true prize was my ass—a tight hole he could frankly fuck as hard as he wanted.

I’d struggle, cry, and beg, but he knew I’d never say no.

He would do things to me that even asking his wife about would have ended in divorce. Even more surprising than this man’s cock, was his creativity. He fucked me in ways and positions I didn’t even think were possible.

He simply bent me over his work table that day, planting his feet wide around mine and rubbing his swollen manhood over my ass. I moaned pleasurably, but I knew this was going to hurt. It always did.

When Mr. Patton was ready to start, he accelerated quickly. Five inches of his throbbing dick were inside me before I could even gasp for air. I cried out as he pushed in another two inches, but he covered my mouth with a hand and continued his onslaught. 

He wasn’t fast so much as he was just relentless. I could fight him and I could beg him, but nothing changed his pace. Every inch of him was soon followed by another until I felt like my entire body was impaled by this perfect man.

Once he had me opened up, he was only just getting started. He fucked me as hard as he could until he was about to cum, pulled back and slowed down, and then slammed in hard again. Rinse and repeat. 

Few men could control themselves quite like Mr. Patton, and he could make a fuck last for hours. And he would.

He went until I was broken, a sobbing, moaning mass of flesh that simply took his cock without resistance. It was among both the best and worst moments of my life. That feeling of not being able to take another second, but never wanting it to end.

I breathed a sigh of relief when he finally quickened his thrusts to a frenzy. He thickened inside me. Mr. Patton began to pump yet another batch of his baby batter into me, thrusting all the way until the end, when he collapsed on top of me.