Rough Raw Ready

Found myself in a big SEC college town last week with a night and a hotel room to myself. Thanks to grindr, I had college boys throwing themselves at me and begging for a shot at my dad dick. I never knew so many college dudes had a thing for older dudes, but the more I learn, the more I like—and take advantage—of that fact. I’m in a pretty good position to capitalize on those desires as I’m older, but not too old, and am still in pretty good shape. My fat cock doesn’t hurt either. At least it doesn’t hurt me…

But as tempting as some of these dudes and their college asses were, I was really craving the feeling of a hard dick battering the back of my throat. Didn’t take long at all to find one.

A hot 20 year blonde dude had been trying to chat me up all morning. But it wasn’t until he sent a pic of a rock hard 6” cock, jutting proudly from a full bush and a gorgeous, flat, hairy stomach that I took notice. I’d assumed from his description—he was a smaller dude—that he was there looking for dick. But his pic and his aggressive attitude quickly made me realize my assumptions had been wrong.

Dude was in class not far from my hotel and we quickly established that he was looking for a throat to unload in. I nervously sent my room number and waited for the young stud to show.

I didn’t have long to wait. Dude was definitely on the smaller side, but I could see how tight his body was the second he walked in. He was barely in my hotel room before he was unbuckling his belt and I was dropping to my knees. Pressing my face into his covered crotch, I could feel his hidden hardness yearning to break free. He grabbed my head and pressed me into his crotch as I inhaled his deep, sexy smells. He dropped his shorts, leaving his boxer briefs on, and I began nibbling at his flared cockhead through the fabric. He was enjoying my worship, but I couldn’t wait to get his dick in my throat and his load in my stomach.

I leaned back, pulled down his boxer briefs and was slapped in the face with his rock hard cock. I immediately put my mouth around the first few spongy inches and began my worship of this young stud. His stomach, chest and ass were covered in dark blond hair and his smell was intoxicating. I felt his hands return to the back of my head as he began to work his cock deeper into my willing throat. But I needed more and I needed it fast.

Grabbing ahold of his tight, hairy ass, I pulled the dude forward until his cock bottomed out in my throat, my nose was in his pubes and his balls were on my chin. Taking my cues, he tightened his grip on my head and held me firmly in place as his rock hard cock cut off my airway. Slowly, he began very short thrusts into my throat, pulling back enough that I could feel his flared cockhead stretching the entrance to my throat, but not enough for me to get any fresh air. Even as I got light headed from the lack of oxygen and his increasing assault on my throat, his efforts had my own cock rock hard and leaking in my pants. But I stayed fully clothed as this young stud used my throat for his own pleasure alone.

I could tell dude was on the edge, but he wasn’t ready to cum. Pulling his head out of my now battered throat, he began a more traditional mouth dicking, pulling out until his head was just touching my lips, and thrusting back just short of my throat. I tightened my lips around his impressive shaft and worked hard to provide adequate suction as he pummeled my face. Going deeper, he began long dicking my face and throat, going from the very top of his cock on my lips deep into my throat on every thrust as he held my head firmly in place.

Looking up at him, I was struck by the look of outright lust as it contrasted with the seeming innocence of this very handsome young man. His pillowed lips had me thinking briefly about my own cock, but the unmistakable look of pleasure on his face as he worked his ever harder cock in and out of my throat pushed those thoughts from my mind and had me working double hard to get his nut.

My efforts were soon rewarded as his thrusts became more violent and I heard my very favorite words—I’m about to cum, bro. Making sure I wouldn’t miss a drop of my reward, I grabbed his ass once again, pulling his manhood deep into my throat just as he began to explode. I counted at least 7 jets of this stud’s warm load hitting the back of my throat as I swallowed continuously and swirled my tongue around his pulsing cockhead.

As I sat panting on the floor, fully dressed, fully hard, and relishing the taste of the load the college stud had just fed me, he pulled up his pants and left without a word. Left hard and alone, I reopened my grindr app, knowing I’d just had the best load I was going to get this trip. But I needed to nut. Bad.

This one goes out especially to my bro @grahamgroans. Thanks for all the hot art (and artspiration!)

(Warning: long one!!!)

“Cheer up, buddy,” Phil said, clamping one big hand down on Jason’s shoulder as they walked down the dock. “It’s a beautiful day for a cruise. Just us guys.”

“Easy for you to say,” Jason scowled, shrugging his father’s hand off. “You’re not the one who —”

“Ah c’mon, lighten up,” said Graham. “You know we’re all gonna have a great time.”

“Especially you,” added Mike with a knowing grin, bringing up the rear with a cooler in each hand, the big muscles in his linebacker’s arms and shoulders carrying the weight effortlessly.

“Shut up,” Jason shot back over his shoulder at his cousin. “You think it’s so awesome, why’s it gotta be me who always draws the short straw? Why can’t it be you for a change?”

“Hey bro,” Mike shrugged at him with a chuckle that was both rueful and a little wistful. “Been there, done that.”

There was no drawing of straws, not really, and somehow that just made it seem all the more unjust to Jason. It was a way for him to put words to what went down out there, without having to do the uncomfortable work of actually saying it out loud. What was going to go down, and his part in it. Things had just kind of… played out a certain way, the first time he’d joined the men on their annual guys-only Father’s Day cruise around Jefferson Lake. And they’d kept playing out that same way every year since.

“A fine family tradition,” Graham said, gesturing vaguely at the air, a big grin on his ruggedly handsome face. He’d had a couple of cocktails already, and a beer in the truck on the way over, so he was getting nice and loose. “Who are we to question it?”

“Well I’ve got some questions,” Jason grumbled. Assholes, toying with him like they were. They knew how to push his buttons, and knew which ones in particular were blinking bright red today, and still they pushed them. Pushed him. They were good guys most of the time, and he loved them, but it was like they were taking a special delight in his discomfort today, like they did every time they all came out here. Toying with him, in more ways than one.

“And I’ve got some answers for you,” Phil said, throwing his muscular arm round his son’s broad young shoulders, giving him a friendly squeeze with an unmistakable paternal steel to it. “Is it Father’s Day? It sure is. Is this the one day of the year us men are guaranteed to have some us time?”

“Damn straight it is,” Graham added, hoisting the beer he’d brought with him from the truck, letting out a deep-chested burp.

“And are you gonna have a good time, son?” Phil grinned at his handsome son. “Damn right you are. You always do.”

He leaned in a little closer, a quick father-to-son word.

“You know you’re going to have a great time, buddy,” he murmured. “We all are. So let’s dispense with the bitching and the moaning, and get on with the relaxing, right?”

“Yeah, whatever,” Jason mumbled, looking away so they couldn’t see the sudden flush in his cheeks, or the glint in his eye that he could never quite control, as hard as he tried. Glad they couldn’t see the way his heart was starting to beat a little faster, that low tingle deep in his core starting to grow stronger. He was glad they couldn’t see any of that — not yet, anyway. He manufactured a deep, put-upon sigh as they got ready to board the boat and get started on their annual tradition.

This one goes out especially to my bro @grahamgroans. Thanks for all the hot art (and artspiration!)

(Warning: long one!!!)

“Cheer up, buddy,” Phil said, clamping one big hand down on Jason’s shoulder as they walked down the dock. “It’s a beautiful day for a cruise. Just us guys.”

“Easy for you to say,” Jason scowled, shrugging his father’s hand off. “You’re not the one who —”

“Ah c’mon, lighten up,” said Graham. “You know we’re all gonna have a great time.”

“Especially you,” added Mike with a knowing grin, bringing up the rear with a cooler in each hand, the big muscles in his linebacker’s arms and shoulders carrying the weight effortlessly.

“Shut up,” Jason shot back over his shoulder at his cousin. “You think it’s so awesome, why’s it gotta be me who always draws the short straw? Why can’t it be you for a change?”

“Hey bro,” Mike shrugged at him with a chuckle that was both rueful and a little wistful. “Been there, done that.”

There was no drawing of straws, not really, and somehow that just made it seem all the more unjust to Jason. It was a way for him to put words to what went down out there, without having to do the uncomfortable work of actually saying it out loud. What was going to go down, and his part in it. Things had just kind of… played out a certain way, the first time he’d joined the men on their annual guys-only Father’s Day cruise around Jefferson Lake. And they’d kept playing out that same way every year since.

“A fine family tradition,” Graham said, gesturing vaguely at the air, a big grin on his ruggedly handsome face. He’d had a couple of cocktails already, and a beer in the truck on the way over, so he was getting nice and loose. “Who are we to question it?”

“Well I’ve got some questions,” Jason grumbled. Assholes, toying with him like they were. They knew how to push his buttons, and knew which ones in particular were blinking bright red today, and still they pushed them. Pushed him. They were good guys most of the time, and he loved them, but it was like they were taking a special delight in his discomfort today, like they did every time they all came out here. Toying with him, in more ways than one.

“And I’ve got some answers for you,” Phil said, throwing his muscular arm round his son’s broad young shoulders, giving him a friendly squeeze with an unmistakable paternal steel to it. “Is it Father’s Day? It sure is. Is this the one day of the year us men are guaranteed to have some us time?”

“Damn straight it is,” Graham added, hoisting the beer he’d brought with him from the truck, letting out a deep-chested burp.

“And are you gonna have a good time, son?” Phil grinned at his handsome son. “Damn right you are. You always do.”

He leaned in a little closer, a quick father-to-son word.

“You know you’re going to have a great time, buddy,” he murmured. “We all are. So let’s dispense with the bitching and the moaning, and get on with the relaxing, right?”

“Yeah, whatever,” Jason mumbled, looking away so they couldn’t see the sudden flush in his cheeks, or the glint in his eye that he could never quite control, as hard as he tried. Glad they couldn’t see the way his heart was starting to beat a little faster, that low tingle deep in his core starting to grow stronger. He was glad they couldn’t see any of that — not yet, anyway. He manufactured a deep, put-upon sigh as they got ready to board the boat and get started on their annual tradition.

Burt’s Son: Reblog Version

This is a story about me and my best friend Burt, and his son, a kid named Ryan, who’s an asshole.

I realize it’s long. That’s intentional. It’s meant to be savored: like a big dick, a great ass or a mind-blowing night of sex.

So, if you want to reblog - you can use this post, which embeds each part, below. (Otherwise just scroll down for the whole thing.)

Only reblog if you want to. Or, you know - whatever - just go watch a thirty-second video and beat off.

Part One

Part Two

Bruno is lead singer in a band at a local dive bar. He’s a sexy, sleazy slab of manhood, and you can’t believe what a raw animal attraction you feel for him. After the first time you caught his act, you went back night after night to hear him sing. Your lust was unrelenting.

He always performed shirtless and his body was stunning. His thick muscular neck and chest would swell and flex with muscular force as he belted out some kind of hard, howling country music. Everything about him was aggressive masculine energy.

The full tattoo he had on his torso totally fascinated you. It rippled and heaved with every breath as he sang and shouted. His body seemed to fill up the stage. The way he moved and handled the microphone was obscenely sexy.

What thrilled you the most though, was when he raised his arms, and you could see the sweat running down from his hairy armpits. Your lust for him was so intense it made you dizzy.

At the end of a slow night, just as Bruno’s band was leaving the stage, you told the bartender you wanted to send him drinks. To your utter surprise, the bartender came back after a few minutes and told you that Bruno wanted to meet you.

He led you to a cubical next to the men’s room and opened the door. Bruno was there, alone in the tiny room, still shirtless, wiping his massive torso with a towel. The room was dim and smelled like a men’s locker-room. Bruno thanked you for the drinks and handed one to you.

He knocked his drink back and asked you what brought you back to see him night after night. You told him that you were fascinated by his stage presence. He stood very close and asked what you thought now. You didn’t speak. You were numb with excitement at being so close to his body. He put his arms against the wall on either side of you and stretched out his armpits.

The smell from his pits washed over you in a wave of male sexual odor. You could see he enjoyed having you aroused and overwhelmed by his man stink. He slid his thick muscled arms down and opened his pants.

His cock and balls were massive, thick and hairy. He put a hand on your head, and you slid down with your back against the wall. The smell from his dick and ballsack was clear and distinct, and strong. He pulled back his meaty foreskin and put his shiny wet dickhead on your lips, and then pushed his dick inside.

He stood there and let you savor the feeling of his dick in your mouth. Then he started to fuck your mouth with deep, slow sensual strokes of his dick shaft; in and out of your throat. He was a real face fucking pro. His dick was thick, long and unrelenting. He had you pinned against the wall, and he fucked your mouth full force. It took all your skill to keep up.

You tasted a salty sliminess in your mouth and expected him to cum. Instead, he hauled you over to a small beat-up leather couch, laid you on your back and pulled your pants off. He put his hand between your legs and fingered your asshole. As he stuck his finger in, he leaned over you with his rank sweaty armpit over your face. The combined force of his thick rough finger up your ass and his intense, penetrating sexual odor in your head made you cum so hard you thrashed and grunted loud enough to be heard in the alley. But he wasn’t done with you. He spread your legs wide, put his dick in you and fucked you with overwhelming power.

He spent the rest of the hour fucking your ass. He kept you immersed in the odor of his armpits and his cock and balls. He wrapped his arms around you and held you tight against his heaving body while he impaled your ass and reamed you out. Then he came hard and deep up in your asshole, blowing huge wads of cum in your gut. You felt like the top of your head would explode.

Afterwards as his breathing slowed, and you relaxed a bit, he let you lick his sexy sleazy tattoo and his wet armpits. When it was time for him to go back onstage, he told you to hang-out and come back for another round of fucking.