Stosh

"You better not fucking tell Mom I let you do this, last thing I need is her pissed off at me about something that isn't even a big deal," Gabe said as I came up behind him.

"Why the hell would I tell her?" I defended myself as my dick got close to his ass.

"I don't know, you're stupid sometimes," he laughed, being an ass.

"Shut the fuck up," I replied and laughed too.

He already had me put lube on and I was already hard as hell. I wasn't sure why this sounded so hot but it did, and I needed a tight hole to sink my cock into. I put my left hand on his left cheek and pointed my cock at his hole and rubbed it in his skin when I got close enough.

"You ready?" He asked looking over his shoulder at me.

"Yeah," I said as I pushed forward and felt the tip of my cock get swallowed up by his body.

It was so fucking good, warm, tight, like velvet on the head of my cock. I smacked his ass like an asshole and kept pushing in, feeling his ass taking inch by inch of my needy cock. He didn't even care when I hit him, treating him like my bitch.

"Oh, that's a nice cock, bud," he moaned as I worked my way in.

"Yeah? You like it?" I asked, turned on by the fact that my big brother was into my dick.

"Fuck yeah, it's a good one," he replied as I bottomed out inside him.

I felt his thick ass against my stomach and legs as I was buried deep in my own brother. I definitely wasn't as experienced as he was but it was safe to say that he had the best ass I've been in.

"You good?" He checked in on me.

"Very very good," I told him as I grabbed and rubbed his ass with my hands. "You have such a fuckable ass," I told him.

"Then fuck it," he told me, kind of joking but I think he wasn't at the same time.

I pulled out and shoved it back in, watching his hole gripping it tight. My cock glided in and out of him, it was beautiful to watch. My big brother took it like a champ and moaned with every thrust I gave him.

My brother had girlfriends all my life, hell he had one right now. I wondered what they'd think seeing me mounted behind him, his little brother fucking his ass like he fucked them. It made me go wild, I wanted to dominate his hole and make it mine for the night.

"Oh fuck, slow down, don't rush," my brother groaned.

I slowed and took my time, looking down and watching as my cock entered and left his body, stroke after stroke, thrust after thrust. If I knew telling him he had a beautiful ass would have got me here I would have done it a long time ago.

My brother was taller than me, more built, seeing him bent over his bed was amazing. Something I never imagined I'd get lucky enough to see. Next time I listen at the door as he fucks his girl I'll have this image in my head.

I pumped him steady and deep, holding on to his ass, watching it bouncing off of me with every thrust. All these years of staring at it, here I was with a close up view and it was wrapped around my cock and fuck did it felt great.

"I could get used to this," I told him, holding on to his shoulder and thrusting hard and deep.

"Yeah? Who says that I'll let you?" He replied.

"I don't know, I'm pretty sure you will," I said as I continued my assault in his hole.

"Oh?" He said and reached behind and pulled me into him and held me tight against his body. "One condition and I will," he's looking back at me as I was pressed against him.

"What?" I asked, almost desperate to know what it would take.

"Girlfriends, wives, whatever... We take this shit to the grave," he started. "Also, neither one of us gets to say no if the other one needs it, from now until we both agree to stop," he added.

"Deal!" I said before he was done talking.

"I'm not done! And you cum in me, and I'm going to cum in you," he told me, catching me off guard, he had a big dick, I don't know if I wanted anything to do with it.

"Uh," I stammered, my cock was hard as fuck in him, maybe this wasn't the time to make deals.

"Fine," he said and started to push me off.

"Fuck man, I've never taken cock," I told him and grabbed on to his hips to stay put.

"I'll teach you, you think I haven't craved your ass too?" he said letting me stay inside him. "Come on man, any time you want mine, it'll be yours. But sometimes I need to fuck too."

I took a deep breath and agreed, "fine but I'll try, but you got to be easy on me," I told him.

"I got you," he said and pushed back. "Now cum in me, seal the pact."

I held on to him tight and started pounding into his hole, feeling my cock getting the pleasure it needed. I felt my load building and before long I was warning him it was time.

"Fuck it in me, let me have your cum," he said so casually, as if that was a normal request between brothers.

"Jesus Christ, Gabe," I moaned and thrust in him, feeling my cock pop off inside of him.

My ball's emptied inside of my big brother's hole, creating a deal I wasn't sure I was ready for. All I knew is that I could cum a few times a day, so why not use him instead of my hand, anytime, can't say no. I just hope he was up for how much his ass was about to get used, and I hope he didn't want mine as much as I planned on using his.

For my OLDER work check out my patron:

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

Find more of my work on Patreon:

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!

Find more of my work on my Patreon:

“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.

“Don’t mention it,” I smiled, trying not to ogle my own father’s incredible body. “I know the divorce from Mom was rough on you, so I thought you deserved a chance to blow off some steam. I’ve got a whole itinerary planned for us. After dinner at the hotel tonight, there’s a comedy club up the street, and I thought we could—”

“I’m gonna stop you right there, Zach,” Dad held up his meaty palm. “I appreciate that you’re looking out for me, and I look forward to spending some quality time with my only son,” Dad continued, “but before any of that can happen, I really need to score some pussy tonight.”

“Oh—uh—sure,” I nodded, surprised by his unveiled intent. 

“You’re a man now, Zach,” Dad began. “So I’m gonna level with you. Your mother didn’t show me her pink cunt for at least the past ten years. And once we started the divorce proceedings, my attorney advised me to keep it zipped—that a lot of wives hire investigators to dig up shit that could be used against the husband. But now that the divorce is finalized and I’m a free man, my balls are gonna pop if I don’t get laid—fast.”

“I understand completely, Dad,” I assured him. “To be honest, I was really hoping to get some dick while we’re here. Let’s ditch the comedy club and check out the hotel bar tonight. A good looking guy like you—you’ll have your choice of pussy. And maybe I’ll score me some cock.”

“Fingers crossed for the both of us,” Dad smiled deviously before knocking back the rest of his drink. 

The hotel bar, with a crowd that was much younger than Dad, was not what he had anticipated. Although he was an undeniably hot DILF, Dad’s game was a bit rusty, having been married to my mom for the past twenty-five years. 

But Dad’s luck changed when an attractive, young woman seated at the opposite end of the bar started making eyes at Dad. And from the way she was dressed in a tight skirt and a low-cut top that revealed her ample tits, the bitch was definitely looking to get her pussy smashed.

“Go talk to her,” I encouraged Dad.

“I’m already on it, Zach,” he replied, standing up to approach her. “Give me a couple hours after I take her up to our room, okay?” Dad requested. “I’ll hang the Do Not Disturb sign while we’re—uh—busy.”

Within three minutes of chatting with the hot bitch, Dad was escorting her out of the bar and towards the elevators in the lobby, his meaty hand at her back. Dad looked back and gave me a thumbs up, his mojo restored, his big cock already straining against the fabric of his linen pants in anticipation of pounding the bitch’s eager pussy. I was happy for Dad’s good fortune. 

Fortune favored me as well that night. Within minutes of Dad’s departure, a good looking guy in town on business sidled up next to me at the bar and bought me a drink. I could see the white tan line from where he had removed his wedding band. Married guys looking for a warm hole while traveling for work are always a good fuck. And so I followed the guy up to his room where he pounded my ass for over two hours, ignoring the intrusive calls from his wife before seeding my hole with a massive load.

It was after midnight before I slinked back to the hotel room that I was sharing with Dad, my hole wrecked. The Do Not Disturb sign was conspicuously absent, and so I decided it was safe to enter.

I found Dad upon the bed, in nothing but his briefs, watching pay-per-view porn, his hard cock stretching the material, a dark spot of precum staining the front. The door to the mini bar was hanging open with empty miniatures of gin, whiskey, and vodka strewn on the floor. 

“What—what happened with the hot bitch?” I asked, confused by the scene in front of me.

“She was a fucking whore,” Dad spat drunkenly, not taking his eyes off the porn on the TV screen, a blonde bitch getting her pussy double-tagged by two hung guys.

“Well—isn’t that what you wanted?” I laughed. “An easy slut looking for dick?”

“No, Zach—she was an actual whore—a prostitute,” Dad clarified. “She sat me on the edge of the bed, unzipped me, pulled out my big cock, and said it would be $100 bucks to suck me off—$250 if I wanted to smash her pussy. So I told her to get the fuck out of my room.”

“Why’d you do that?” I asked. “You’re horny as fuck. It would have been money well spent to get your rocks off.”

“Do I look like a guy who needs to pay for sex?” Dad barked angrily. “Never in my life have I been so hard up for pussy that I had to fuck a prostitute, and I don’t aim to start now.”

“I know—I’m sorry,” I sympathized. “Look, it’s only a bit after midnight. The bar doesn’t close until 2 am. Let’s get dressed, go back down there, and—”

“I’m not going back to that damn bar, Zach—not tonight,” Dad refused. “I just want to go to bed and start fresh in the morning.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” I agreed. “But let’s turn off the pussy porn, okay?” I suggested, reaching for the TV remote. “Watching it now is only going to make things worse.”

“Fine,” Dad agreed, pulling down the covers to his bed. “How was your night, Zach?” he changed the subject, slipping under the covers and propping his muscular arms behind his head. “You score any dick?”

“Yeah,” I answered, embarrassed at my good luck in the face of my dad’s misfortune. “The dude dumped a big load in me.”

“You gay guys have it so easy,” Dad grumbled. “Sex is like a handshake for you guys. You don’t have to jump through countless hoops to get laid, like us straight guys.”

“Actually—the guy who fucked me tonight was straight,” I informed Dad. “I saw evidence of a wedding band, and his phone kept blowing up while he was railing me—probably a paranoid wife.”

“Does that happen often for you—sex with straight guys?” Dad asked, his interest piqued. 

“Yeah—I mean, probably half of my hookups are with straight guys just looking for an easy hole,” I admitted candidly. “A lot of guys just need to drop a load when they’re not scoring pussy, or when their wives or girlfriends aren’t putting out.”

Dad was quiet, his wheels turning. We had never had such a frank discussion about my sex life. He knew I was gay, but normally didn’t wish to know the gory details. 

I quickly stripped down for bed. Turning out the light, I gave Dad a quick peck on the cheek, his eyes closed, his breathing shallow. I then climbed into my own bed, turning over onto my stomach, balling up the pillow under my head. I soon began to drift off to blissful sleep—until it happened.

Dad’s weight was suddenly upon my bed, the covers inching their way below my ass. I knew what was happening—what he wanted. The truth was that I wanted it, too.

As a gay boy growing up with a father that looked like mine—the incredible good looks, the muscles, the hairy chest, the big dick—sex with my dad had long been a gay son’s fantasy. And now all those wet dreams were finally coming true. The man needed a warm hole, and I was there to provide it.

“Fuck, that’s a wet pussy,” Dad moaned, his breath hot at my ear, his thick finger probing my used hole as he pulled down my briefs with his other hand. “I’m gonna enjoy pounding this cunt.”

His weight was suddenly upon me, his hairy chest pressed into my back. His rounded cock head found my sphincter, initiating penetration. Dad raised himself into a plank upon his muscular arms, his strong hands pushed into the mattress on either side of my body. And then—wham—my father’s nine-inch cock, the cock that had made me, was inside me.

“Fuuuuuck,” he exhaled, instantly going balls deep. “Christ, this hole is tight.”

I wanted to joke that my hole was much tighter a couple hours prior, before the married guy at the bar pounded the shit out of me. But I was silent, not wishing to break the spell. Dad was drunk off his ass, his body consumed with the need to fuck. It was likely he wouldn’t even remember fucking me the next morning. I decided that I would be an anonymous participant, passively allowing Dad to use me in any way that he wanted. 

What Dad wanted was to destroy my cunt. Instantly, he revved his engines, his speed going from zero to sixty in about three seconds as he proceeded to pummel the shit out of me. I gripped the sheets beneath me, bracing myself against his assault, his big cock abusing my hole.

“Fuck yeah—take this big cock, bitch,” he barked at me. Did he even know it was me that he was fucking—his own flesh and blood? Did he even care? Our shared blood sure didn’t matter to me. I was reveling in the feeling of his big cock up my ass. I had taken big cocks before, but never one that could rival my dad’s huge endowment. 

As a kid, I had once caught my dad getting out of the shower. Innocently, I asked if my penis would grow to be as big as his one day. “I bet you’ll have a big one like me when you’re all grown up, son,” he gave me a wink before shooing me away. But Dad had lied. My dick, though perfectly serviceable, had never reached his epic size. But now, thanks to a sick twist of fate, I got to experience the thrill of having a big dick like Dad’s—inside me.

“That’s it—open that cunt for me,” Dad growled in my ear, his breath laced with booze, as I tilted my pelvis. Dad’s big cock slid impossibly deep inside my bowels, my toes curling in response. Christ, the man was a fuck machine. 

Over and over he continued to jackhammer my quivering cunt, battering my bowels with an unbridled fury. His pace was too quick, his drive too intense. His balls were too backed up. His stamina couldn’t possibly hold out much longer. 

“FUCK,” he bellowed urgently on the precipice of orgasm, his big cock expanding in my fuck canal. “You want some cum, bitch? You want me to dump this massive motherfuckin’ load in you?”

Once again, I failed to respond, afraid that the realization that he was balls deep in his own son could burst the bubble just before Dad’s climax. I wanted his load up my ass, and I was not about to do anything to jeopardize that result. In the end, it didn’t matter. Dad was ready to blow his wad and there was no stopping him.

“FUCK—SHIT,” he growled, his big cock throbbing in my depths, spewing his seed—our shared DNA—into my deepest recesses. “Yeah—take my nut, bitch—FUCK—FUCK,” he continued to grunt. 

When his cock ceased pulsing inside of me, when his balls had yielded the last of his seed, Dad collapsed upon me. His drunken breath was hot at my ear, his sweaty chest pressed into my back, his big cock slowly going soft inside of me.

Dad pulled out of me as quickly as he had entered, a gaping hole left in his wake. His cum streamed from my used ass, puddling on the sheet beneath me. Worldlessly, he stumbled back to his own bed, crashing hard. Within minutes, he was snoring softly, deep in the clutches of post-coital slumber.

Dad was already dressed and combing his hair in the mirror when I awoke the next morning, my used ass still sore and leaking cum. He was bright-eyed and chipper. A good fuck was clearly what the man had needed. But did he even remember what had happened—that he had fucked his own son’s ass?

“Get out of bed, sleepyhead,” he called to me, like I was a kid again. “I’m heading down to the breakfast buffet, Zach. So get your ass in the shower and meet me downstairs.”

Dad was at the omelette station when I arrived to the buffet. A well-dressed, attractive woman was flirting openly with my dad, her hand on his muscular forearm as he held his plate. She threw her head back, laughing openly at one of Dad’s lame jokes. The bitch was clearly into my father, and would have likely spread her legs for him atop the breakfast pastries table if Dad had offered up his big cock to her.

“She’s a good catch,” I whispered to Dad moments later as he took a seat with me at a table in the corner. “I can make myself scarce for a couple hours if you want to smash her pussy up in our room.”

“I have no desire to smash her pussy,” Dad refused. 

“Why the hell not?”

“Well, for starters,” Dad began, “that flirty bitch is on the wrong side of thirty. I just got rid of an old car—I’m not looking to drive another one. And furthermore,” Dad locked eyes with me, “I’d rather fuck your tight ass again. So hurry up and finish your goddamn eggs, son. I’ve got another load in these balls for you.”

I did what he said and opened it from the corner and felt the lightly lubed latex on my fingers. I dropped the empty packet on the floor, I was a bit nervous and excited about this whole experience.

Not wanting to assume anything I extended my arm, trying to hand it to Dad so he could show me how to roll it on.

"It's okay, you could do it," he said casually, as if I wasn't going to have to touch his cock to do it. "Place it on the tip and then use your fingers to push and roll it down on me."

"Okay," I replied softly, not wanting to sound too eager that I was going to touch him.

I scooted my chair so that I was sitting with one of my legs between his. Reaching over I put the condom on the tip of his dick, he throbbed and moved a bit as I touched him.

He was so big, I had seen it soft plenty of times but never like this. He kept his cock straight up as I used my fingers to move the condom down over him. He looked up at me a couple times and then right back down at himself. I put my cupped hand over the tip of his dick and push down, feeling my father's cock in my grip.

"Perfect, keep rolling it down like that with your hand," he coached me.

I felt him pulse in my hand, I was making him feel good by my touch, and there was no way around it.

"How far down?" I asked as it was 75% down his length.

"To the base, keep using your grip, stroke it downward... Yeah, just like that," he said with a strange tone in his voice. "Remember when you are putting it on you have to stay hard, otherwise it won't go on."

"Oh, I'm always hard," I joked.

Dad laughed, "I guess it's a given, you wouldn't need one if you weren't," he replied.

I had got it down to the base but I kept 'trying' to get it on farther. I kept stroking his dick through the condom and feeling his thick meat in my hand.

Okay, pull it off and do another, Dad instructed me.

I grabbed the base of his cock with my bare hand and pulled off the condom with my other, holding on to him without anything between us this time. He didn't stop me as I held on and reached over to grab a new one.

"Here I can open it for you," he said, stopping me from using my teeth.

As he began opened the condom as I held his dick for him, it was so surreal, casual, no big deal. He made me feel comfortable and I decided to start stroking him.

"I'm keeping you hard," I said, giving myself an excuse.

"Oh okay," he chuckled and dropped the package on the floor and handed me the new condom. "Here you go," he said. "I want you to be safe, I don't need any grandkids until you're ready, okay?" He told me.

"Sure," I replied with a smirk.

I doubted that it would be much of a problem for me but I think he knew that, he had caught me plenty of times looking at gay porn on the living room computer when he came home from work early.

I pushed the condom down his cock and stroked him as I did, I held on to his balls this time and squeezed them slightly as I was basically jerking him off trying to get these condoms on. He was throbbing in my fist and taking deep long breaths.

"Perfect," he said as I got it to the base again.

"Dad?" I squeaked out. "We don't have to waste this one, do we?" I asked, nervous about what he would say.

"No, I guess not," he replied.

I could see it in his face, he knew exactly what I meant and he wanted it. I stood up and dropped my shorts and stepped out of them. It all happened so fast, I was climbing on his legs as he gripped my ass and helped stabilize me. He was sat back as I reached back and pointed his cock towards my hole.

"I'm pretty big, go slow," he told me as I felt the tip of his cock touching my ass.

"Okay," I replied, relaxing my butt muscle to allow him in.

"Oh jesus," Dad moaned as I felt the tip penetrate me. "You're tight."

"You're bigger than I've taken," I told him, being honest.

"Others?" He asked, as I slid down his cock.

I felt him stretching me out like I had never been stretched before. My own father was inside of me and it felt amazing.

"Josh and Mike," I told him, they were my two best friends, straight but we had messed around.

"Okay, well now I know why you guys stay in the basement together," he laughed as he put his head on my stomach and I landed firmly on his lap. "You need to use protection, even with your buddies," Dad told me.

"Okay," I agreed, as I shifted on him, feeling him deeper than anyone had been.

I picked my body up and sat back down on my father. I felt so good and he moaned as we began fucking in the kitchen. My dick had started dripping on his shirt so he lifted it up, exposing his stomach and hairy chest. I felt him trusting upward into me as I bounced on top of him.

"Up," he said and I stood over him, legs weak. "I'm taking the condom off, that okay?" He asked, I nodded yes.

He pulled it off and threw it on the floor. "We don't have to wear one?" I asked, a bit cocky.

"Not if we wear them with others," he replied and smiled, knowing he was being hypocritical.

I sat back down and felt Dad's raw cock sliding back in, fuck, nothing between me and my father. Just his thick cock deep in my hole. He was probably leaking and it made me leak even more.

"You feeling good?" He asked as I did most the work, fucking myself on him.

"Oh yeah, your cock feels amazing," I said as I continued my movements, copulating with my own family member. "How's my ass?" I asked him back.

"Great," he growled. "This isn't supposed to be happening, but I'd be lying if I hadn't thought about it."

"Me too, if I'm honest," I replied. "You think Mom will be mad?" I asked him.

"No, she told me to do what it took to make sure you don't give her grandkids yet, I think this counts," Dad said. "We play with others, she'll be fine."

He grabbed my hips and started lifting me up and dropping me down on his lap. The way his cock was pushing on my prostate was driving me crazy. The idea that my own father and I were having sex was turning me on like crazy. I leaned in and gave him a kiss on his lips expecting him to pull away, but I couldn't help myself. He didn't, he kissed me back. I could feel his thick beard on my face as we made out and bonded in a new, different way we had ever.

"You keep kissing me like that and you're going to make me come inside of you," dad said in the middle of our make out session and fucking.

"In me?" I said, heart racing.

"There's no condom on, where else will it go?" He asked. "That okay?"

I nodded yes and kept bouncing. I wanted my Dad's cum inside of me so bad, but I didn't want to let him know just how much. So I leaned in and began kissing him again. Sex with Josh and Mike was nothing like this, this was so much deeper, raw, sexually charged. With them it was fun and good, but with Dad it felt passionate and deeper.

Dad began breathing harder so I leaned back and began to start picking and sitting down harder than I had been. Looking at him as we did this blew my mind. I couldn't wait till he blew his load inside of me, just like he did to Mom when he made me.

"Here I go," he said as our bodies slammed together. "Oh shit!" He moaned.

"Oh damn, Dad!" I cried out, lustful and out of it. "Cum in me!" I told him what I wanted.

My cock shot off, coating him in my load as I felt his cock throbbing inside of me, filling me up with his familial cum. My own father went from teaching me to use condoms to putting his raw dick in me. Nothing could have prepared me for this whirlwind of a Sunday afternoon.

He pushed me down on top of him, and I leaned in and began kissing him again. His cock was firmly inside of me, depositing every bit of his sperm as deep as his he could. I felt his tongue dancing with mine as I rested and caught my breath.

"That's going to happen again, right?" I asked, trying not to sound too eager.

"Of course, I hope so," he said smirking, looking drained and relaxed under me.

For my OLDER work check out my patron:

The nightly fucks in the window started as soon as Todd and Bruce had moved into the house next to my parents and me. Their bedroom window aligned perfectly with my own, giving me a front row ticket to the hottest porn show in town. I didn’t dare tell my parents, as my dad didn’t hesitate to complain when a couple of faggots moved next door—his words, not mine.

I was transfixed the first time I watched the neighbors fucking, the two guys oblivious to my presence next door. Sure, I had fucked an impressive share of girls by that point in my life. But my sexual experiences paled in comparison to the raw, animalistic passion that I witnessed through Todd and Bruce’s window each night. I couldn’t look away, often jacking myself along with them. It wasn’t long before I got caught. 

“Did you enjoy the show last night, Carter?” Todd approached me one afternoon as I mowed the front lawn, my hairy chest flecked with grass clippings. “You know that I can see you through the window just as easily as you can see me.”

“I—I’m sorry,” I stammered, mortified that Todd had caught me spying on them. “I honestly didn’t mean to—”

“Bullshit,” Todd interrupted. “You could have looked away, Carter. Instead, you watched our every move, rubbing out your load to our fuckfest.”

“It—it won’t happen again,” I assured Todd. “I promise that I won’t watch you two fucking anymore.”

“Damn straight you won’t be watching us anymore,” Todd crossed his arms over his meaty chest. “Because tonight we’d like you to come join us.”

“Wait—? What—?”

“You heard me,” Todd laughed. “Sure, Bruce and I love being watched, but it would be a lot more fun for all involved if you came over and pounded your load into Bruce’s ass instead of a wad of Kleenex. Plus, I love to be cucked.”

“But, I’ve never—”

“Fucked a guy?” Todd finished my thought. “You’re eighteen now, Carter. You’re a full grown man,” he looked down at my bulging crotch. “It’s about time you learned to fuck like a grown man. I’ll leave our front door unlocked for you tonight. Feel free to drop by and drop a load once the party has started. You won’t regret it once you’re balls deep in Bruce’s tight ass.”

I spent the rest of the day in a state of internal flux, a battle raging in my brain. I wasn’t gay. I liked girls. I loved pussy. But the intoxicating temptation of gay sex was undeniable. Todd and Bruce had lured me into their trap, promising unbridled pleasures within their bed, and I was powerless to resist.  

The show that night began like clockwork, Bruce on all fours upon the bed, Todd railing his ass from behind. I watched from the window, waiting for my cue. And then Todd looked up at me through the window, his eyes beckoning me to join them. Game on. 

Before I could resist, before I could talk myself out of entering the enticing world of man-on-man sex, I sprinted next door. Their front door was unlocked, as Todd promised. I was soon climbing the stairs to their bedroom, the moans and grunts of animal passion growing louder with each step. I could smell sex in the air. 

“Breed my ass,” Bruce was moaning as I entered the room, the sound of skin slapping skin echoing off the bedroom walls as Todd pummeled his hole. “Yeah—seed my ass with that big dick,” he pleaded. 

“You’re about to get it,” Todd replied, his hands digging into Bruce’s hips, his cock a piston inside his boyfriend’s bowels. “OH FUCK,” he barked, on the precipice of orgasm. “Here it comes—FUCK—SHIT.”

Todd threw back his head, his body convulsing as his cock discharged inside of Bruce. He held still, his breathing returning to normal as his balls reached empty. Suddenly aware of  my presence, Todd turned his face back to me, giving a wink as a lecherous smile spread across his face. 

“We’ve got a visitor,” Todd announced to Bruce, pulling out of his boyfriend, his pearly load dripping from that freshly-seeded hole. “Carter is here to fuck your ass.”

“Todd said you would come,” Bruce turned his face back towards me. “Drop them shorts, Carter,” he ordered. “I love getting railed by a young stud like you.”

Following orders, I pulled off my shorts, my thick, eight-incher rock hard and leaking precum. Todd climbed off the bed, giving me a clear path to Bruce’s eagerly awaiting cunt. 

“Just shove it in him,” Todd instructed as I climbed upon the bed, positioning myself behind Bruce. “I’ve got his cunt good and ready for you.”

“Fuuuuuck,” I exhaled, my big dick sliding effortlessly into the warmest, wettest hole that I had ever experienced. Pure bliss. 

“Damn, you’re thick for such a young guy,” Bruce marveled as he began to rock back and forth on my big one, fucking himself with my rod like a wall-mounted dildo. “Mmm, this big dick feels so good in my wet pussy,” he moaned as he twerked upon it. 

“Don’t let him do all the work, Carter,” Todd was suddenly in my ear, his hands on my shoulders like a coach giving me a pep talk before a match. “I want you to wreck his cunt—show him what you’ve got.”

Wanting to impress my hosts, I moved my hands to Bruce’s muscular shoulders. Digging into his flesh, I unleashed a brutal assault on his cunt. With rapid intensity, I pummeled his quivering cunt, showing no mercy. Never before had I fucked with such savage fervor. And to my delight, Bruce wasn’t just taking it like a man, he was fucking loving it. 

“Yeah—fuck me with that big dick,” he begged, dropping his upper body into the mattress, thereby raising his ass. I slid deeper into Bruce, my big cock battering his inner-sphincter. “You’re getting me so good,” he moaned. 

“Make him cum, Carter,” Todd was behind me once more, his breath hot at my ear. “Get that bitch to cum with you.”

Following orders, I tapped into my inner-strength and proceeded to jackhammer the living shit out of Bruce. I was pulverizing his cunt, my big cock a battering ram in his bowels. And then I felt it—his sphincter clamping around the base of my shaft, his fuck canal pulsing around my cock. 

“I’m gonna cum,” Bruce warned, suddenly pushing himself upwards on his muscular arms, his untouched cock spraying the bed with his thick load. 

“Yeah, baby,” Todd cheered from the sidelines. “Shoot your load with that hung boy’s dick up your ass. Fucking let it all out.”

I could feel every wave of Bruce’s orgasm from within, his body rhythmically gripping my cock, effectively jerking me off inside his fuck canal. There was no holding back. I needed to bust.

“FUCK,” I barked urgently, cum rising in my swelling shaft. “I’m gonna—I’m gonna—HOLY FUCK—SHIT—Yeah, take my fuckin’ nut—FUCK.”

“That’s it—breed his ass,” Todd was in my ear again, massaging my shoulders as I dumped my load into his slutty boyfriend, my cum spewing into Bruce’s sloppy void. “Fucking cream his cunt, Carter.”

Drained of energy, my balls depleted, I collapsed upon Bruce, our sweaty bodies crashing into the mattress. I could have fallen asleep like that, my cock still buried in that warm hole, but Todd had other plans. 

“Move over, Carter,” Todd pushed me off Bruce, my spent cock popping out of that cummy hole with a wet thwack. I rolled over onto the bed and watched as Todd mounted Bruce once more. 

For the next two hours, Todd and I took turns at Bruce’s cunt, dumping load after load into that greedy hole. The event was not just my first time having gay sex—it was the best sex that I had ever had, thanks to my neighbors Todd and Bruce. 

I eventually returned home in the wee hours of the morning. Climbing the stairs to my bedroom on weak legs, I eagerly awaited the bliss of a deep, post-coital slumber. Instead, I found my dad sitting upon my bed with a tumbler of scotch in his hand. Fuck. 

“You gonna tell me where you’ve been all night, Carter?” Dad demanded with boozy breath. “Your mother thought she heard a noise and, when I came to investigate, you weren’t in your bed.”

“I—I couldn’t sleep,” I lied. “So, I went for a walk.”

“A walk to the house next door?” Dad gestured to Todd and Bruce’s window, the ice clinking in his glass. “Yeah, I saw you through the window with those two guys—those faggots.”

“Dad—don’t be mad,” I began, my voice panicked. “It’s really not what you think. I’m not actually—”

“Was it any good?” Dad cut me off. “That gay guy’s ass—was it any good? Was it better than pussy?”

“Yeah,” I sighed. “It was way better than pussy.”

“Fair enough,” Dad stood up and downed the remainder of his scotch. “You think you’ll go back there tomorrow night, Carter? Fuck that guy’s ass again?”

“Yeah,” I admitted. “Todd and Bruce said I’m welcome to come back as often as I want.”

“Good,” Dad placed his strong hand upon my shoulder. “Just be sure to bring me along next time. I’d like to fuck the shit outta that cock slut with you. It’s not like my big cock is getting any action from your frigid mother.”

"Oh shit," I said sitting on the couch in his office.

We lived alone together so it wasn't a problem getting caught, just the possible guilt after the deed I guess.

"You said you wanted to see it," he laughed a bit nervously.

"I did, I mean I do," I said looking at his cock.

I didn't dare look up yet, I was too scared. For now it was just a cock, a nice cock, that's all. It wasn't Dads, it was just there, I tried to convince myself.

Without thinking I reached out and took hold of it and started stroking him. Shit, I was too horny to change my mind or think any differently.

"Oh," Dad said under his breath.

I couldn't help but to look up at him when I heard him. He had a face I had never seen on him, he was in the same boat I was horny and couldn't think. We connected eyes and he blushed and smiled, I did the same.

"It's big," I said jerking him off, my heart beating fast.

"You like it?" He asked me.

I nodded yes and opened my mouth and looked up at him and let him make the next move. He pointed it towards me and put it in my mouth. I closed and felt the feel and taste of my own father for the first time as he let out a sigh.

"Jesus, Matt," he said as I began to suck. "This is crazy."

I agreed but my mouth was full to properly respond. Instead I began to suck my Dad and gave into the fact that this was happening and it was going to be okay.

I sucked and bobbed all over him, going hard and fast as I couldn't help myself. I needed cock and it didn't matter who's it was.

"Matt, I'm not going to last..." was all I heard before a flood of cum filled my mouth and I naturally gulped down. "Oh god!" Dad moaned.

It fucking tasted amazing, sweet and salty, just the way I liked. I moved my hand up and down as I milked him for all he had, a truly big load that was exactly what I wanted.

It ran down my chin as I kept going until he got too sensitive to keep going.

"Crap," I said as I pulled off and took deep breaths.

"You good?" Dad asked, concerned with what we had done.

"I'm great," I said, and grabbed his cock again and licked and played with it some more. "This happening is perfect, for both of us," I told him. "You okay?"

“There’s nothing to talk about,” I assured him.

“I fucked your ass,” Ted countered. “That’s hardly nothing.”

Rex had turned sixty that day and, though his hair and thick stache had gone silver, he still had the muscular body of his youth and a massive, nine-inch cock that could easily maintain a rock-hard erection—not that it mattered to his wife. To celebrate this milestone birthday, Rex had done something that he never expected to do—he had fucked a guy up the ass. 

“Yeah—uh—I thought maybe we could watch some TV in your room together,” I gestured toward the screen mounted opposite the bed. 

“Uh—I dunno,” Marek hesitated, scratching at his thick stache. “I’m sort of watching—”

“Porn,” I finished his sentence. “Yeah, I know. I could hear it from out here in the hall. I thought maybe we could—”

“I’m gonna stop you right there,” he interrupted, slowly closing the door. “With your mother out of town, I had planned to rub one out before bed. And, no offense, but I don’t need an audience.”

“Please,” I begged, inserting my foot in the door. “I really want to get you off.”

“Get me off?” he spat. “Why in the fuck do you think that I would—?”

“Because you haven’t had sex in years,” I interrupted. “I know you and Mom don’t fuck anymore. The walls in this house are thin, and I can’t remember the last time I heard you two—”

“Since when is it any of your goddamn business about what happens in the bed that I share with your mother?” Marek barked, a mix of shame and anger in his eyes. “If you wanna get someone off,” he pushed me out of his doorway, “you can go get yourself off.”

He then slammed the door in my face. I retreated to my room, a thin wall between us. Marek returned to his porn, turning up the volume to an absurd decibel, a porn bitch moaning through the wall: “Yeah, Daddy. Fuck me with that big dick. Fuck me hard, Daddy.” This went on for several minutes, my mind imagining my stepdad in there, jacking his big dick, preparing to bust his nut—without me. 

And then the sound cut off abruptly. Had Marek already finished? His pearly load sprayed up his hairy chest? I expected to hear the shower turning on, the water coursing through the pipes. Marek always took a post-coital shower back in the days when he’d keep me up half the night, pounding his nut into my mom as I listened through the thin walls. And more often than not, I would wake up early the next morning to the sound of Marek grunting another load into Mom before getting ready for work. 

But there was no shower this time. Instead, I heard his bedroom door creaking open, the sound of his heavy footsteps in the hallway. My door was soon opening. Marek stood in the doorway, completely naked, his eight-inch cock raging hard. 

“I’ll let you suck me off,” he offered tersely. “But I’m not gonna fuck you.”

“That works for me,” I agreed eagerly, scrambling off my bed, following my stepdad back to his room. 

Marek was soon flat on his back atop the bed, his hairy legs spread wide to give me access to his big dick. He pulled one muscular forearm over his eyes, not wanting to witness his impending transgression—feeding a load to his barely-legal stepson. 

“Fuuuuck,” he exhaled slowly as I began my work, taking his plump, hairy balls into my mouth. His nutsack was a mouthful, full of seed, aching for release. “Christ, that’s feels good,” he marveled, spreading his legs wider as my tongue lapped at that tender spot right below his balls. 

I looked up at his big cock, raging hard, reaching for the ceiling, a drop of precum beginning its journey down his veiny shaft. Abandoning his balls, I licked up his thick shaft, tasting his precum, a mix of salty and sweet. My tongue found his helmeted cock head, swirling around its rim, teasing the sensitive underside near his cum slit. 

“Suck me,” Marek begged. “Suck my big fucking dick.”

Needing no further invitation, I took his cock into my mouth and slid the entire length of his big one down my throat. With his balls mashed against my chin, I tongued the underside of his shaft. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he gasped, as I went to town on his big dick, my neck pivoting repeatedly, taking him past my lips from tip to balls over and over again. My oral skills were strong, and I aimed to prove it to him. 

Though Marek was clearly enjoying the cock worship, his body writhing in response to my talented throat, he kept his eyes covered with one arm, refusing to witness the salacious debauchery taking place in the bed he shared with my mom. 

As I continued to suck him, never removing his cock from my throat, I began to kick off my shorts. Marek had left a bottle of lube on his bed table in preparation for his intended solo bate session. I reached for it discreetly, popping off the cap with one hand. Deftly, as I continued to suck Marek, I proceeded to prep my ass, slathering the slippery lube into my hole with two fingers. 

And then I went for it, with a pause in action surmounting to mere seconds, I released his cock from my throat, straddled him, and sat upon his cock. My hands went to his hairy pecs, bracing myself as I took him balls deep, my sphincter constricting at the base of his shaft. 

“HOLY FUCK,” he gasped at the sudden change in pressure. Removing his arm from his face, he finally looked down at his cock, buried up my ass. 

I froze. What the fuck had I been thinking? My stepdad had told me that I could suck him, nothing more, that fucking was clearly off the table. And yet, I had disobeyed him by taking his big dick up my ass. Our eyes met, his thoughts unreadable to me in the moment. Marek could push me off his cock, shove me to the floor, beat the shit out of me, tell me to get my faggoty ass out of his room. Time stood still. 

And then it happened. Marek’s hands went to my hips, gripping into me, forcing me up and down upon him, wordlessly showing me the rhythm he required to get off inside me. Was this really happening?

“I never told you this, but I caught you getting fucked once,” he stated, the sudden sound of his voice startling me as Marek’s pelvis got into the action by thrusting into me. “I came home from work early one day and saw you and that kid up the street—the really tall one—what’s his name?”

“Tyson,” I answered, grinding into him, his balls mashed against my hole. 

“Yeah—Tyson,” Marek nodded, licking his lips. “I came home and caught you riding Tyson on the couch in the den. And I was shocked.”

“Because I was taking cock?”

“No,” he laughed. “That was no surprise. I was shocked because I thought Tyson had a girlfriend.”

“He does,” I answered. 

“Yeah—well—so I was shocked that this straight boy was fucking you,” Marek continued, propping his arms behind his head as I bounced up and down on his cock. “But it was all so fucking hot, watching you riding Tyson’s cock, the look of sheer bliss on that boy’s face when he came up your ass. In that moment, I was jealous—I wanted to be the one cumming up your ass.”

“Why—why didn’t you say something?” I paused, Marek’s dick still buried inside of me. “You could’ve—”

“Could’ve what?” he cut me off. “Told my stepson that I wanted to fuck his ass? I mean that goes against all the laws of nature. I mean, it’s not incest technically, but a guy fucking his stepson is still pretty fucked up.”

“Then why are you okay with it now?” I prompted, pinching his hairy nips as I resumed bouncing atop him again. “Why not stop me?”

“Because your ass feels too fucking good,” Marek growled, sitting up and wrapping his muscular, hairy arms around me. In a feat of technical skill, he flipped us over, never taking his cock out of me. Suddenly, I was flat on my back with my stepdad’s weight upon me as he began to pummel my hole. 

“You like my big dick?” he taunted, jackhammering me furiously, slamming my body into the mattress. “Is this what you wished for all these years—for me to fuck the shit out of you?”

“Yes,” I exhaled, wrapping my legs around his meaty ass. “Fuck me with that big dick. Fucking destroy my hole.”

Before my eyes, Marek morphed into a fuck machine, battering my cunt relentlessly. He was now the man who used to keep me up for hours on end in my youth, the headboard hitting the wall as he grunted his load into my mom. But this time it wouldn’t be my mom receiving his warm seed—it would be me. 

“You gonna let me shoot my load in you?” Marek asked, abusing my hole with a rapid fire of intense thrusts, his balls smacking my ass with each deep dive into my bowels. “You gonna let me seed your hole?”

“Yes,” I begged, gripping his hairy forearms, trying to brace myself against his assault. “Fucking breed me, Daddy. Fill me with your seed, Daddy,” I moaned, channeling the porn bitch he had watched earlier. 

Though I had never used the word Daddy with Marek in our step-relationship, the endearment appeared to be a turn on. His cock grew even more rigid inside of me, expanding and swelling in my fuck canal as I repeated, “Fuck me, Daddy. Fuck me with that big dick.”

And then I felt it. A deep throbbing had commenced in my bowels as Marek began to quake atop me. “FUCK—FUCK,” he grunted, his cock erupting in my depths. “Yeah—take this fucking nut.”

Over and over his big dick spewed in my depths, filling me with his seed. I wanted to revel in the moment forever, our bodies conjoined as Marek bestowed his most sacred elixir upon me. Though I wasn’t his biological son, we now shared his DNA.

“Fuck, that was good,” he pulled out of me abruptly, breaking the spell, his load spilling from my wrecked hole. “I’m gonna take a shower,” he arose from the bed and ambled towards the bathroom, his spent cock dripping cum in his wake. 

I suddenly felt discarded. The deed was done. He had no more need for me, so I returned to my own bed. I had just started to drift asleep when the door to my room creaked open. 

“Why the fuck did you leave?” Marek asked from the doorway. He was still naked, his big cock hanging fully between his hairy thighs. His man fur was damp from the shower, the scent of his Old Spice body wash filling my room. 

“I—I—I thought,” I began to stammer. 

“Get your ass back in my bed,” Marek ordered playfully. “You’re sleeping with me until your mom gets back in town. And if you know anything about me—you know I’m gonna want to dump another load in you when I wake up in the morning.”

“Yeah—sorry,” Alfie admitted feebly. “There’s no sense denying it—I like to swallow your cum and then get myself off with my Fleshlight.”

Alfie wouldn’t have been my choice for a roommate, but we were thrown together by student housing our freshman year. Nerdy and cerebral, he was nothing like me—your average red-blooded jock just looking to fuck as much pussy as I could.

Alfie had some odd habits, like wearing the same blue ballcap and mirrored shades all the time—even to class. He also jacked off obsessively to gay manga porn with his pocket pussy, whereas I preferred to fuck real pussy.

Alfie also liked to watch me fuck the steady stream of bitches who I paraded through our room. I must admit, I kind of liked being watched. I have a big cock, big enough that I could do porn if college didn’t work out.

And so I didn’t mind the first time I was smashing some pussy on my bed, the bitch screaming her head off as I wrecked her cunt with my big one, and I looked over to find Alfie watching, rubbing himself. His eyes only emboldened my performance.

Weirdly, none of the bitches seemed to mind that Alfie would watch us so openly. With my good looks, chiseled body, and huge cock, these sluts would probably let me fuck them in the center of the campus quad in the middle of the day. That’s how desperate they were to get my big cock in their cunts.

If I’m being honest, most of these bitches would let me fuck them without a condom. And, like any guy, I loved the idea of fucking raw dog, busting my nut in a wet cunt, pulling out to admire the cream pie I left behind. But the idea of knocking up some bitch at eighteen scared the shit out of me.

“Always wrap it,” my father advised me when I left for college, giving me a bulk-supply box of Magnums XLs to get me started. “These bitches will tell you they’re on the pill,” Dad warned me. “But don’t believe them. They’re just looking to trap a good-looking guy like you into marriage.”

And so I took his advice to heart, always wrapping my dick when I fucked, shooting my thick load into that reservoir tip instead of seeding the bitch. I just never expected that my roommate Alfie would then eat my loads from the trash like some ravenous gay raccoon.

“That’s fucked up, dude,” I admonished him, catching him red handed, my used condom in his mouth. “That’s gross—it’s fucking trash.”

“One man’s trash is another man’s treasure,” he giggled sadistically, my discarded cum on his tongue. “Finders keepers.”

My first reaction was to march down to the student housing office and demand a new roommate. I shouldn’t have been expected to live with a weirdo who ate my cum out of the trash. But I had to admit, it kind of turned me on. Not only was I god’s gift to women, my big cock a source for their endless pleasure, there was a dude willing to fish my cum out of the trash just to eat it.

And so I let it slide with Alfie. He had flown his freak flag, and I was going to respect it.

“You—you’re not pissed?” he ventured when I backed down.

“Nah,” I dismissed. “Have at it, dude. Enjoy your meal. I guess it’s good to know my swimmers are going to good use, and not dying an agonizing death in a latex prison.”

But I wasn’t done with the matter.

That night, I scooped up another slutty bitch at a fraternity party, dragging her back to my room to fuck her senselessly. Blonde with big tits, I knew Alfie was going to love watching as I plowed her pussy.

Alfie pretended to be asleep when we stumbled into the room, crashing onto my bed, our clothes quickly dumped onto the floor. But I knew that sick fucker was wide awake, eager to watch and then eat my cum from the trash.

“Is your roommate asleep?” the drunk bitch squawked, eyeing Alfie, suspiciously prone on the bed.

“Yeah—just forget he’s there,” I insisted. “He won’t bother us.”

“You can fuck me raw,” the bitch gave me permission as I tore open the Magnum XL with my teeth. “I’m on the pill.”

But I ignored her, sheathing my sword in the anti-pregnancy protection of lubricated latex. Fully armored, I pushed open her legs wider, my meaty hands on her smooth thighs, and plunged into her pussy.

“You’re so fucking big,” she yelped like all the other bitches before her, my cock head smashing against her cervix. Her glitter-coated nails dug into my back.

I looked over at Alfie, already stroking his cock on his bed. Our eyes locked, my devious smiling conveying my ultimate wish for him: This one is for you, dude. Enjoy it.

I returned my attention to the task at hand—destroying the bitch’s cunt. Planking above her, raised up on my muscular arms, my hands pushed into the bed on either side of her enormous tits, I began to pummel her pussy at a brutal pace.

Yeah, I know I’m an asshole when I fuck. But the bitches I fuck aren’t girlfriend material. I’m not expected to make love slowly to them with passion. I don’t have to apologize afterwards for pounding her pussy into a pulpy mess, because I’m never going to see the bitch again. And the truth is, a lot of bitches like that.

“Yeah—fuck my pussy,” this particular bitch begged, my big cock stretching her labia, my pelvic bone rubbing against her nubby clit with each thrust.

I looked over at Alfie. He was watching intently, stroking himself. It seemed sad that he lived vicariously through my nightly fucks, but at least I always promised a good show.

“You like this big cock?” I demanded, enjoying the sight of her big jugs jiggling with each thrust that I delivered inside her. “You like this big cock in your tight cunt?”

A quick point of observation—her pussy wasn’t tight. She was so loose, I would have bet she’d already had a cock or two at the frat party where I found her. And from the viscous cream oozing from her pussy as I pounded her, I was certain my dick was surfing a wave of some other dude’s sloppy seconds. Sluts be sluts.

“Mmm, yeah. Your big dick feels so good inside me,” she moaned, holding on for dear life as I jackhammered her quivering cunt relentlessly. “I’m feeling close,” she warned. “Make me cum.”

I’m ambivalent about the female orgasm. If a bitch cums while I’m fucking her, more power to her. But it’s not my job to get her there. Frankly, I’m doing all the work just to get my nut off. She can worry about her own damn orgasm.

Thankfully, my big cock had done the work for both of us. A feral moan began in her throat. “OH FUCK—OH FUCK,” she screamed, digging her nails into my back harder, her pussy pulsing as I continued to pound her over and over. My own load was imminent.

“FUCK,” I grunted, my cock discharging, a wave of adrenaline surging through my body. I looked over at Alfie, our eyes locked, as I delivered up his future meal.

“Yeah, shoot that load in my pussy,” she begged, obviously forgetting that my swimmers were safely blocked by my latex cum catcher.

When my cock had stopped throbbing, my balls emptied, I pulled out of her. Her cunt was gaping, her labia red and raw following the assault I had delivered.

“Thanks,” I offered halfheartedly, looking down at my spent dick. The condom drooped from the tip of my cock, engorged with my pearly load. It reminded me of a deformed ballon animal.

Snapping off the condom, I handed it to Alfie, his eyes wide with surprise. Deftly, he stuck the open end in his mouth, resting it upon his tongue. Tipping his head back, he swallowed my warm cum, a soft moan escaping his lips as he finished.

“What the fuck?!” the bitch screamed in horror, sitting up in my bed, a witness to Alfie’s creamy meal.

But before I could respond, before I could tell her to mind her own fucking business, Alfie dropped to his knees, the emptied condom still in his hand. Brazenly, he took my spent cock in his mouth, licking me clean—and then sucking me.

“Fuck that feels good,” I exhaled, my head tipping back, my cock hard in his mouth. His warm throat felt better than any head I’d ever received from a girl. “Yeah—suck my dick,” I ordered. “Suck my big fucking dick.”

The bitch—I had nearly forgotten her—scrambled to her feet, yanking on her clothes from the floor. Shoving her feet back into her wedged platforms, she muttered something under her breath about sick fucks and men being pigs. She was soon bolting out the door.

“You two are fucked,” she yelled, slamming the door behind her.

“No—you’re the one who got fucked,” I shouted back, laughing to myself. I guess I should have felt a little sorry for the bitch, but I didn’t really care. I was well on my way to feeding Alfie his second load of the night.

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

“I’m freezing cold,” I shivered. The outside temperature had dropped to the lower forties, yet Brock was shirtless in his sleeping bag. “Aren’t you cold?”

“Nah, I never get cold,” he winked, stroking his dense forest of chest hair, seemingly for my benefit. “Not with all this man fur that I’ve got.” And then he opened his sleeping bag for me, fully naked, his massive cock ready for action. “Why don’t you climb in here with me, Parker?” he offered. “I can warm you up.”

PUSSY WHIPPED

1

It was a shitty day in a shitty week. The kind that made me curse my ex-husband. He was the one who insisted we buy a house out in the suburbs. James was a suburban boy through and through and craved the acceptance of being gay while living out the white picket fence lifestyle. We didn't literally have a picket fence, but we lived on a quiet suburban street with colonial style homes, all a hellish commute from my job in the city.

I was the one stuck with the house and the shitty commute after the divorce. Turns out Mr. Suburbs wanted to live out his city fun before he turned 40. I was the only one who could buy out the mortgage, and given the market, selling would be a hit.

Besides, I was kind of getting used to it. Even with the neighborhood women who preferred James' fun going personality to my buttoned-down repressed Southern boy thing. I actually got along better with a lot of the men, from the finance guys to the blue collar studs who'd bought into the neighborhood before it became a bedroom community.

The one exception was Steve McCoy. Or Officer Package as James nicknamed him on the first week we moved in. Officer McCoy worked for the local suburban police force. Cushy gig, though I'm sure it had its headaches. I wouldn't say McCoy was outwardly homophobic, but he sure as hell was gruff and standoffish. He was the only one in the neighborhood who wouldn't talk to us more than a grunt in reply. Figures we'd have to live right next to an asshole. I didn't care if having a cop in the neighborhood was good for security, I resented the fucker each time he ignored us.