Warning: Your Dad Might Be On Here.

Grow up & jerk off like the rest of us. This blog is fantasy. 18+

[dirtydads-filthyfathers]

[maturemenoftvandfilms]

"Congressman ‘GT’"

Featuring Rep. Glenn “GT” Thompson & Cody Archie

CHAPTER THREE: After Hours in San Antonio

The fluorescent lights of the San Antonio convention center buzzed overhead as Rep. Glenn “GT” Thompson wrapped up his remarks on the Farm Bill to a packed ballroom of farmers and ranchers. His tan suede blazer felt a touch warm under the lights, blue button down crisp against his barrel chest, dark navy dress slacks hugging his sturdy thighs. At fifty something, with his round to oval face flushed ruddy from the Texas heat, bald crown gleaming under the spots, and close cropped white gray hair framing the sides, GT still carried that earnest, folksy optimism that had served him well from Eagle Scout hikes in the Pennsylvania hills to listening sessions back home in Howard.

That is when he spotted them. Erika Archie was a whirlwind, thin as a fence post, phone glued to her hand, filming every handshake and soundbite for their Bar 7 Ranch TikTok. But her husband… Lord have mercy. Cody Archie was all thick set Texas everyman: 5 foot 11 of stocky ranch muscle gone soft with good living, round full face under a tan cowboy hat, prominent cheeks ruddy from the sun, thick handlebar mustache twitching over thin lips as he grinned that warm, faith driven smile. Forest green quilted vest stretched across his broad soft chest, striped button down tucked into dark blue denim that did nothing to hide the heavy bulge or the way his wide butt filled out the seat. Cream colored ostrich boots planted firm on the carpet.

Cody’s brown hazel eyes locked on GT during the post speech mingle, a little too long, a little too steady, like he was sizing up a prize bull. GT felt a low stir in his gut, rural Pennsylvania boy turned congressman, married thirty plus years to his high school sweetheart Penny, three grown sons and two grandsons, but that thick, classic good ol’ boy build kept pulling his gaze back.

“Well, Congressman,” Cody drawled in that warm Central Texas twang, voice low and friendly as a Sunday sermon, “you reckon we could grab a cold one? I got some thoughts on that bipartisan ag stuff you were talkin’ about.”

GT chuckled, adjusting the gold wedding band on his left ring finger, the class ring on his right catching the light.

“What about the missus? She looks like she’s got that phone glued to her hand for the next hour.”

Cody’s eyes twinkled with something darker, hungrier, beneath the good ol’ boy charm.

“Erika? Shoot, she loves filmin’ for the ‘Gram. Keeps her happier than a hog in slop.” He winked at his wife across the room, jerked his thumb toward the exit. “Y’all go on, darlin’. I’ll catch up.”

Erika didn’t even glance back, already pivoting toward the next influencer cluster.

They slipped out the side doors, dodging conventioneers, hearts pounding like teenagers sneaking behind the barn. Cody led the way to the hotel tower across the street, his cream ostrich boots clicking on the pavement. In the quiet elevator, Cody’s meaty hand brushed GT’s thick padded arm, then squeezed. By the time they hit the hallway, Cody’s palm was flat on GT’s broad back, steering him.

The room door clicked shut behind them, spacious king bed, heavy curtains drawn, faint scent of hotel soap and Cody’s earthy ranch cologne. Cody spun GT around, eyes dark and hungry under the brim of his cowboy hat.

“Been thinkin’ about this since you stepped up to that podium,” Cody murmured, voice thick with that Texas drawl. His hands roamed GT’s shoulders, squeezing the stocky muscle beneath the suede blazer. “You got that steady, service driven way about you, Congressman. Makes a fella wonder what else you’re good at.”

GT’s breath hitched, mild Central Pennsylvania rural accent slipping out easy and folksy.

“Well, shoot, Cody… I ain’t never done nothin’ like this. Not in all my years. But you… dang, you got a way of lookin’ at a man.”

He grabbed Cody’s thick ass through the denim, pulling their bellies together, GT’s large rounded gut pressing firm against Cody’s prominent beer belly. Their mouths crashed together, frantic and wet, tongues sliding like they had waited years instead of minutes.

Cody moaned into the kiss, desperate, lapping at GT’s tongue like a man dying of thirst after a long day branding cattle. His fingers worked GT’s belt buckle open, shoving navy slacks and briefs down in one rough tug. GT’s thick 7.5 inch cock sprang free, cut, blunt helmet shaped head already glistening with precum, heavy low hanging balls swaying in their loose wrinkled sac, sparse graying pubic hair tickling Cody’s knuckles.

“Wow,” Cody breathed, dropping to his knees right there on the carpet, cowboy hat tilting back. His handlebar mustache brushed the blunt head as he stared up with wide eyed wonder, brown hazel eyes locked on GT’s ruddy face. “Look at that pretty Pennsylvania piece. Thick as a fence post.”

He leaned in, lips trembling, then slurped the helmeted head into his warm mouth. His tongue swirled slow and hungry around the ridge, tasting the salty leak, before he sank down, inch by inch, until GT’s cockhead nudged the back of his throat. Cody gagged softly but didn’t pull off, hollowing his cheeks, sucking with wet, rhythmic pulls that made obscene slurping sounds echo in the quiet room. One hand cupped GT’s heavy balls, rolling them gently, thumb stroking the wrinkled sac; the other wrapped around the base, stroking in time with his bobbing head.

“Fuuuuck,” GT groaned, rural accent thickening, hand gentle on the back of Cody’s dark haired head. “You suck cock like you mean it, son. Easy now… that’s it. Lord have mercy, you’re gonna make this old firefighter pop before we even get started.”

Cody popped off just long enough to gasp, lips shiny, mustache wet.

“Just one other fella before you, Congressman. But damn… yours is a helluva lot nicer.”

He dove back down, deepthroating with messy enthusiasm, spit dripping down GT’s shaft onto those low hanging balls.

GT’s head spun.

“Look… either you finish me off right here or I bend you over and fuck that thick Texas ass proper. But we gotta be quick, your wife’s still out there filmin’.”

Cody looked up, dangerous twinkle in his eye, voice husky with that faith driven drawl turned filthy.

“Fuck me, GT. I want you buried balls deep in this rancher’s hole. Been prayin’ on it since I saw you talkin’ ag policy.”

They stripped fast, suede blazer, striped shirt, and navy slacks hitting the floor beside the forest green vest, denim jeans, and ostrich boots. Naked, they were a matched pair of stocky, barrel chested everymen: GT’s fair skin ruddy and mostly smooth save for his chest, broad gut and love handles jiggling as he moved; Cody’s fair farmer’s tan skin dusted moderate to heavy dark hair across his soft chest and rounded beer belly, bushy dark pubes framing his own cut 6.5 incher with its bulbous pinkish head and hefty bull balls.

GT manhandled Cody onto all fours on the edge of the king bed, that wide, hairy ass presented like an offering. He slapped one meaty cheek hard, crack, watching it ripple, then groped both full globes, spreading them to reveal the tight pink pucker.

“Look at that pretty hole,” GT murmured, voice low and folksy. “Bet it’s never had a Pennsylvania cock like mine stretchin’ it.”

Cody moaned, face pressed to the sheets, cowboy hat still somehow on his head.

“C’mon, Congressman… quit teasin’ and wreck me.”

GT spat on his palm, slicked his thick cock, and pressed the blunt helmet against that virgin tight ring. Cody’s face twisted, pleasure melting into a grimace of pain, as the head popped past the rim.

“Ahh, shit, that burns so good,” Cody growled through gritted teeth, mustache twitching. GT inched forward slow, thick shaft stretching him open, heavy balls swinging against Cody’s taint. Inch by inch, until GT’s gut rested heavy on Cody’s back, crushing him down with warm, padded weight.

Cody’s eyes squeezed shut, then fluttered open in a slow, moaning growl as the pain bloomed into pleasure.

“Fuuuuck… there it is. Right there on my spot. You hittin’ it just right, GT.”

GT started grinding, slow, deliberate rolls of his hips, thick cock stirring deep inside that hot, clenching channel. Sweat beaded on his barrel chest, dripping onto Cody’s hairy back. He reached under, wrapped a big hand around Cody’s throbbing 6.5 incher, and stroked firm and steady, thumb smearing the steady leak from the bulbous pink head.

“That’s it, Cody… stroke that pretty Texas cock while I fuck you proper. Feel how full you are.”

Cody bucked back like a wild horse, meeting every thrust with a low, groaning squelch of lube and spit. GT grabbed the cowboy hat, jammed it back on Cody’s head, and started pounding harder, deep, rhythmic slams that made Cody’s hefty balls swing and slap.

“Take it, rancher. Take every inch like the good ol’ boy you are.”

Cody’s hand flew on his own cock now, jerking fast and sloppy, pre cum flying.

“Yes, God, harder, Congressman! I’m gonna… I’m fixin’ to shoot.”

His body seized, ass clamping down like a vice as thick ropes of cum splattered the sheets, his bull balls pulsing in GT’s loose grip.

GT did not stop. He pulled out slow, teasing the gaping, reddened hole with his cockhead, sliding it up between those hairy cheeks, tapping the heavy sac, then popping just the blunt tip back in and out, over and over, until Cody was whimpering.

“Put it back in, GT, please, I need it fillin’ me again. Don’t make me beg like some backslidin’ sinner.”

GT grinned, folksy and satisfied, and slammed home. He fucked Cody through the aftershocks, then flipped him onto his back on the edge of the bed. Cody’s sock clad legs, one sock slipped down around his ankle, wrapped tight around GT’s waist, heels digging into those sturdy tree trunk thighs. GT leaned in close, bellies pressed slick and hot, and drove deep in long, punishing strokes. Fifteen minutes of steady, sweaty missionary, GT’s gold watch glinting, heavy balls slapping Cody’s ass, until GT’s beefy cheeks clenched and he buried himself to the hilt.

“Lord… have… mercy,” GT groaned, rural accent thick as he unloaded, thick pulses flooding Cody’s guts. He kissed him slow and deep, tongues lazy now, before rolling off with a satisfied grunt.

Cody lay there, glazed and well fucked, cum leaking from his stretched hole, chest heaving under his dark hair. His handlebar mustache twitched in a lazy, sated grin.

GT patted that wide, sweaty ass.

“You’re a helluva good fuck, Cody. Didn’t expect a faith driven rancher like you to take it so damn sweet.”

Disclaimer: This narrative is entirely fictional and it does not reflect any known events or factual scenarios involving Glenn Thompson or any person named Cody Archie.

[dad4dads]

[twisted-talez]

My stepdad Greg was on the bed when I barged into the bedroom, his right hand caressing his hairy pecs as his left hand massaged his hardening cock.

“Shit,” I gasped in embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay,” Greg turned his head back towards me. “You caught me getting ready to rub one out. Your mom’s on the rag, and my balls feel like they’re gonna—”

“You don’t have to explain,” I interrupted, not wanting to know the details of my mom and stepdad’s sex life. “Mom just sent me up to tell you she’s making pancakes, and to come down in fifteen minutes for breakfast.”

I then backed out of the room while trying not to stare at Greg’s big, hard cock. The dude was easily over eight inches and thick as fuck.

“Thanks,” he smiled, stroking his cock. “I’ll head downstairs after I—uh—finish up here. But you don’t have to leave. You’re eighteen now. I used to jack with my buds when I was your age.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he affirmed. “Don’t you and your buds ever have ’bate sessions together?”

“No,” I answered sheepishly, though I had always fantasized about it.

“That’s a shame,” Greg sympathized. “Why don’t you sit here next to me and we can jack together?”

“I—uh—I’d rather just watch you at first,” I admitted, “if that’s okay with you.”

“Sure,” Greg shrugged, spitting into the palm of his hand as he began to work his cock.

Jesus, it was hot watching him. I’d seen Greg’s big cock before—flaccid, of course—in the gym showers after a workout, and once at the lake when he dared me to go skinny dipping with him on a moonlit night. But I’d never seen Greg hard, his cock in its full glory. And it was fucking glorious. Thick, veiny, crowned with a massive purple head. I wanted my stepdad in the worst way, but I had never let on that I liked dudes.

“You can’t just stand there and watch me the whole time,” Greg admonished after a few minutes. “Pull yours out—jack with me.”

“I’m—I’m embarrassed,” I whispered, avoiding eye contact. “I’m not as big as you.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Greg laughed. “Cocks come in all shapes and sizes. I’m sure yours is more than adequate.”

“I can’t imagine having a dick as big as yours,” I confessed, inching closer to it.

“You want to touch it?” Greg offered, releasing his grip, his cock flopping audibly against his hairy thigh. “You can jack it, if you want.”

I reached forward tentatively, gripping his cock by the base. My hand was unable to fit around the impressive girth of his shaft.

“Tighter,” Greg guided me, his meaty hand wrapping around mine, showing me the pressure and rhythm that he liked. “Fuuuck,” he exhaled slowly. “That feels so good.”

“You’re leaking precum,” I observed, noting the glistening, viscous drop that had pooled at the tip of his cock and was now beginning to run down his shaft.

“Lick it up,” Greg commanded. “Taste it.”

I opened my mouth, my tongue licking up his shaft to the tip of his cock, tasting his precum—warm and salty. Swiftly, Greg grabbed the back of my head and forced his cock down my throat, gagging me, the heady scent of his pubes filling my nostrils.

“That’s it—hold it right there,” he ordered, holding the back of my head as my gag reflex subsided, saliva flooding my mouth instinctively, lubricating his cock. I could taste his precum, flowing like a faucet on my tongue.

“Now suck me,” Greg directed, sliding his cock in and out of my mouth, deeper into my throat. “Yeah—that’s it. You’re a fucking natural,” he praised. “You like my cock? You like sucking my big dick?”

“Mmph-hmm,” I nodded, looking up into Greg’s eyes, his cock still buried down my throat. I was fucking loving it.

“Christ, that’s beautiful,” Greg smiled. “Nothing hotter than seeing a handsome young man like you enjoying an older man’s big cock. Why—I remember the first time I sucked off my Uncle Max when I was your age. I never felt closer to him than when he was cumming down my throat.”

His cock jumped in my mouth at the memory of his Uncle Max, becoming even more rigid. I could feel his bulbous cock head swelling even larger.

“Get on your knees before me,” Greg ordered, pulling his cock from my mouth as he arose from the bed and stood before me. “I’m gonna get off by face fucking you. You might feel the urge to gag, but it’ll pass, and soon you’ll have a big reward.”

Grabbing the back of my head once more, Greg jammed his cock all the way down my throat, his balls mashed against my chin, and began a steady assault on my throat. In and out he jammed his cock down my esophagus, abusing my tonsils like a battering ram. I was gagging on it, but Greg held the back of my head firmly as his breathing began to quicken.

“OH SHIT—here it comes,” he bellowed, his cock swelling to twice it’s girth down my throat. “FUCK,” he grunted, his cock exploding down my throat, cum and saliva escaping my mouth and running down my chin. I struggled to breath through my nose as Greg continued to hold me down on his cock until the throbbing subsided and his balls had emptied.

“DAMN, that was good,” Greg exhaled, finally releasing me from his grip, his cock sliding out of my mouth, a pearly drop of cum dangling at the tip. “Yeah, suck up that last drop,” he ordered as I ravenously complied.

“You’ve got a throat pussy on you—that’s what you’ve got,” he praised me, falling back on the bed on weakened legs. “Damn, boy. You are made to suck dick.”

I shrugged bashfully, happy that he was pleased. I didn’t feel like I’d done much, other than allowing him to use my throat like a pocket pussy. But, clearly, I had done something right.

“Get your ass downstairs before your mother suspects something,” Greg ordered, jumping up and cleaning off his wet, spent cock on the bedsheet. “I hope to god she didn’t hear us up here.”

“You think—you think you might let me suck you off again sometime?” I asked tentatively before I left the room.

“Are you kidding?” Greg laughed. “Plan on sucking this big dick daily, you hear? Oh—that reminds me—your mother’s going to that garden party thing this afternoon. You and I will be home alone. You think you might want to sit on my cock—let me pop your cherry?”

“YES!” I exclaimed a bit too eagerly.

“Good,” he smiled. “You’re gonna find that I’m an exceedingly talented top.”

“But—will—will it hurt?” I asked, excited by the thought of him fucking me, but nervous at the same time.

“Oh, it might hurt at first,” Greg replied, placing his meaty hand on my shoulder. “But something tells me that you’re gonna love having a big dick up your ass. Boys like you always do.”

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

From the Twisted-Talez Vault 🔓

[svml]

[dirtydads-filthyfathers]

#HusBear #LeaveItOn

[kingfather1962]

[dirtydads-filthyfathers]

#FuckableFurball #LeaveItOn

[kingfather1962]

[dirtydads-filthyfathers]

POV: Grandpa booked a vacation, but you've still got some work to do.

[kingfather1962]

[dirtydads-filthyfathers]

#FuckableFurball #PapaPussy

[denissorin]

[dirtydads-filthyfathers]

POV: Grandpa asks you to take a seat.

Might as well, Lord knows you won't be able to afterwards.

[dirtydads-filthyfathers]

(via munichgold, munichgold)

Pa's been interviewing fellas for his ranch's Head Milker position.

I don't think he's getting what he asked for, but damn if he's not getting what he needs...

[gaybisexstudent-deactivated2017]

[dirtydads-filthyfathers]

Your Dad is so conflicted. He's been dying to suck a dick but just can't bring himself to do it.

Looks like you're gonna have to push him over the edge...

[tallmascjock]

When dad takes you camping and you share the same tent

[gorgeous-blokes-deactivated2023]

[dirtydads-filthyfathers]

After crunching the numbers, this is definitely the biggest tax return your Accountant has ever gotten you...

[exquisitesmut]

[dirtydads-filthyfathers]

Every time Dad checks in on the Contractor, it looks like he's hard at work.

[bold-new-look]

[twisted-talez]

He was standing at the urinal trough when I walked into the men’s room at Honkers, his left hand holding up his shirt, his right hand holding his cock. I presumed his jeans were dropped below his ass to avoid the inevitable spray back, but then I noticed the telltale motion of his right forearm—a rapid oscillation that could only mean one thing. The dude was jacking off. I could stand there and watch as he shot his load into the trough, his pearly cum sliding down the drain. Or I could offer him some head, his warm cum sliding down my eager throat.

Kids ate free at Honkers on Sundays. It was the chain’s desperate attempt to draw in some business on an otherwise slow day. Horny husbands brought in their wives and kids after church, the wives averting their glances and covering the eyes of their children from our scantily-clad waitresses. With their short skirts that barely covered their asses, and their big boobs stuffed into a cropped Honkers halter top that was two sizes too small, our waitresses weren’t exactly family friendly.

I worked the bar—the only job a man could have at the front of the house. Taking orders and delivering food was solely the domain of our waitresses, who were mostly ex-strippers with c-section scars and bad knees that prohibited them from making real money on a stripper’s poll.

The guy and his family were seated in the section opposite the bar, his wife in a calico church dress, their toddler son in smocked overalls. Tanya sashayed over to them, bending low at their table so the husband could look down her top and get a good glimpse of her fake tits as she pointed out the children’s offerings to him on the back of the menu—shit like that always got Tanya a good tip. The wife looked away, her lips pursed, as he nearly drooled down the front of his shirt, his eyes locked on Tanya’s pierced nipples, peeking out over the edge of her lacy D-cup bra. 

His eyes then locked on Tanya’s tramp stamp as she turned around to fetch their drinks, her skirt worn low to taunt him with fantasies of watching that faded butterfly bounce and jiggle as he pounded her cunt from behind. Tanya’s tip kept growing bigger and bigger—like his cock.

The noon hour had arrived and he had ordered a beer, sipping it slowly as his eyes wandered the restaurant. The wife was pulling up a Bluey episode on her phone for the toddler while her husband eye fucked every waitress that passed their table. I imagined him mentally calculating the position he would employ when fucking each of our Honkers babes—missionary, doggie, cowgirl—and where he would shoot his load—on her tits, on her face, in her hair.  

“I’m gonna take a piss,” he informed his wife, standing up from the table at an angle, hiding the raging boner in his jeans from her and the kid. “If the food comes, you and Charlie go ahead and get started.”

“But you won’t be here to pray over the food with us?” she protested.

“I think you’ll manage,” he scowled, making a beeline for the men’s room. 

The bar section was empty, and I had nothing better to do. So I waited thirty seconds and followed him to the men’s room, hoping to catch him rubbing one out. If I had a buck for every horny guy I had caught jacking himself off at the urinal at Honkers—well, I wouldn’t have to bust my ass bartending at Honkers anymore.

He was standing at the urinal trough when I walked into the men’s room. I presumed his jeans were dropped below his ass to avoid the inevitable spray back, but then I noticed that the fucker was indeed jacking off. Straight guys are so predictable. Upon closer examination, he was much younger than I expected. He had likely knocked up his wife on their prom night, a shotgun wedding a few months later. 

“Don’t stop on my account,” I announced, sidling up next to him at the trough, getting a glance at his hard eight-incher as I unzipped and pulled out my cock as if I was preparing to take a piss.

“Jesus, you scared me,” he startled, his fist stopping in mid-stroke, a drop of precum forming at the tip. “My wife, she’s on the rag, and I just really needed to—”

“Dude, don’t apologize,” I assured him. “Yours will not be the first load shot into this trough, trust me. Guys rub one out in here all the time.”

“Whew,” he exhaled, resuming his stroke. “I was worried you were gonna report me to the manager or something.”

“Nah—that horny fucker would probably just come in here and join you,” I laughed. “You like Tanya—your waitress?” I changed the subject.

“Yeah—she’s fucking hot,” he exclaimed, gripping his cock a bit firmer, his cock head engorging with increased blood flow.

“She’s a really good fuck,” I reported, having overheard two line cooks bragging about a threeway with her. “She had all her kids by c-section, so her cunt is still fairly tight.”

“You’ve fucked her?”

“Yeah,” I lied, pretending to be straight and, thereby, putting him at ease. “She fucking screamed her head off while creaming on my cock,” I lied again, watching his dick grow even more rigid as we talked about his slutty waitress. “You want me to set you up with her? You know, with your wife being on the rag and all.”

“Nah,” he shook his head sullenly. “I mean—don’t get me wrong—I enjoy looking at all the slutty waitresses here. But I couldn’t cheat on my wife. Shit, I feel guilty enough jacking off in here.”

“What’s wrong with jacking off?”

“My wife—she thinks that jacking off is a sin,” he sighed, removing his hand from his cock, his big dick just hanging there, praying for release. “The Bible says that man isn’t supposed to pleasure himself.”

“Then let me do it for you,” I offered brazenly, reaching over and taking control of his big dick, my fist wrapping around his engorged member.

“Dude—what the fuck—?” he started to pull back, but then stopped himself when I began to stroke him, his balls contracting involuntarily at my touch. He gave out a long sigh, licking his lips as I proceeded to jerk him off. “Jesus, that feels good,” he moaned, his head rolling back. 

“You ever done this before?” I asked, my fist squeezing his cock a bit harder, a drop of precum stringing from the tip. “Let another dude jack you off?”

“Yeah,” he admitted sheepishly. “A buddy of mine, before I met my wife. We’d go camping up at the lake and he’d spend all night jacking me off in our tent—my cock shooting load after load up my chest, and then he’d lick it all up.”

“You ever let him go down on you?” I asked, increasing the pace, his balls swinging back and forth, matching my rhythm as I jerked his big dick. “Let him suck a load out of you?”

“Nah,” he shook his head. “He always wanted to suck me, but I told him that I wasn’t gonna—Holy fuck, dude. What the hell are you doing?”

I had dropped to my knees and, turning his body towards me, had taken his cock down my throat in one, quick gulp. Reaching around and grabbing his ass, I pulled him into me, mashing his balls against my chin. Deftly, I began to suck him, my mouth a worthy substitute for his wife’s unavailable pussy.

“Fuck, that’s good,” he moaned, his hands moving to the back of my head. “Yeah, that’s it—work the head,” he guided me as I swirled my tongue around his bulbous cock head, lapping up his precum.

“When was the last time you got some head?” I asked, pausing momentarily as I licked his shaft from base to tip.

“Uh—Alissa Parker, sophomore year behind the bleachers, long before I started dating my wife,” he stated.

“Jesus—you haven’t gotten your dick sucked since high school?” I gasped incredulously. 

“Yeah—my wife—she doesn’t suck—”

“Well, I do suck dick,” I cut him off, stating the obvious before taking him down my throat again, his balls mashed against my chin once more. I knew that time was of the essence—I needed to get back to my shift, and he needed to get back to his wife and kid. And even though the restaurant wasn’t all that busy, I didn’t want us to get busted. So I went to town on that big cock, sucking him ravenously.

“Christ, you can suck a dick,” he marveled as I bobbed my head up and down on his eight-incher, my neck pivoting over and over again, his balls slapping my chin with each down beat. A wet thwack echoed off the tiled walls. 

“Dude—I’m getting close,” he warned urgently, his meaty hands gripping into the side of my face. “Is it cool if I cum down your throat?” 

“Mmm hmm,” I nodded, feeling his cock expanding down my throat, his nutsack tightening against my chin.

“Oh fuck—here it comes,” he barked. “OH FUCK—SHIT—SHIT—Yeah—Don’t stop—SHIT.”

He released a massive torrent of jizz down my throat, coating my tongue, his cock head throbbing against my tonsils. I counted ten—twelve—fifteen distinct shots of cum as his creamy load spewed into my hungry belly. Judging by the force and quantity, it had to be at least a five-day load. 

“Christ, that was good,” he extricated his spent cock from my throat, stuffing it back into his jeans as I wiped at my messy chin with the back of my hand. 

“Where’s Dadda?” a piercing scream suddenly erupted from the dining room. “I want my Dadda.”

“Shit—that’s my son,” he announced, zipping up his fly. “I better get out there. My wife’s gonna be pissed.”

“You got any plans this afternoon?” I asked as he hurriedly washed his hands at the sink.

“I gotta swing by the Home Depot later for some nails,” he reported, reaching for the paper towel dispenser. 

“My shift ends at 4 pm,” I shared. “How about you swing by here when I’m done and I can take you back to my place?”

“You wanna suck another load out of me?” he asked, an eyebrow raised, a devilish smile plastered on his face.

“Actually, I was thinking you might want to fuck my ass,” I offered. “If you might be game for that.”

“Fuck, that sounds hot,” he exclaimed, his cock straining in his jeans once more. “I’m game.”

And then he returned to his table and his over-priced plate of Honkers wings, his wife giving him the stink eye as his kid threw chicken nuggets at him. But he didn’t seem to care, his gaze locked on me as I took my place at the bar, his hard cock aching to shoot a load up my ass. 

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

[maturehunksblog]

[dirtydads-filthyfathers]

Mom took the girls on a week-long Spring Break trip.

You've been taking Dad's cock in every position, in every room of the house.

[dirtydads-filthyfathers]

(via bearbuddy-blog, bearbuddy-blog)

Your Wife warned you that her Father had his ways of testing the men she'd brought home over the years.

Good thing you saved up a week's worth of cum to show him just what kinda man you are.

[dirtydads-filthyfathers]

(via pierced-cock1970, pierced-cock1970)

#Lunch #SuckItSir