somebody's son

[dadolder]

[graybeards]

What’s-his-name in all his shirtless glory wasn’t what I expected to see when I walked upstairs toward the guest room for a nap, a short break from meeting a house full of family. I never could remember names well, and what’s-his-name was no exception. But I’d never forget that bronzed bulk spilled over his belt, the line dividing it from those perfectly snug blue jeans. His large, round face looked down on me, frosted with a thick layer of graying hair.

And just like that, I wanted to hook my fingers into this dense fellow’s belt and drag him to bed with me, but there were a few complications. Of course, he seemed straight as a soldier’s spine, but he was also family. Not my family, but my boyfriend’s. Still, he wasn’t Peter’s father or anything, just his uncle. That’s still bad, isn’t it? Yeah, I wasn’t quite convincing myself either.

But what’s-his-name let himself smile as I gaped and gawked at him. He curled his burly arm up and let his muscles bulge for my sake. He ran his fingers through the fur on his belly up to his chest without a hint of self-consciousness. Here I was, a runner with a body fat percentage that looked like a shoe size, and he was prouder of his body than I’d ever been. 

He asked if I liked what I saw. I stole a step when I answered. He chuckled and bemoaned that his sons’ wives weren’t half as pretty as Peter’s. I was his boyfriend, I corrected. No, he insisted as I stepped close enough for him to brush my bangs aside, I was the girl and he expressed his intent to prove it.

What’s-his-name kissed me, brusque and bold he plastered his lips to mine and lifted me off the ground with all the exertion of moving a pile of laundry. He propped me up against the banister and spread my legs around his waist, rubbing himself against me. My hands found his chest and couldn’t bear to part.

The family worried when Peter came out, he confided as he peeled off my t-shirt and pinched my smooth skin once it was bared to him. But then they met me, he whispered lustily in my ear, and they were pleased. He skillfully removed my shorts and sent them down onto the floor with my briefs alongside them. He explained, the family was glad that Peter was still the man and that he had found a respectful and obedient partner.

Whenever I went to interrupt, to protest, the man just kissed the words from between my lips. He admitted, as he unzipped his fly and hauled out a slab of meat much alike to Peter’s, that he had wondered how my pussy felt. A friend, he said, once told him a man’s ass was the tightest, hungriest thing he’d ever fucked. He asked me if that was true.

I leaned back on my angled perch and lifted my legs to his shoulders as I told him it looked like he was about to find out.

He spat in his hand and slicked the shaft, drizzling my waiting hole with precum when he touched his head to it. I squeezed myself to his delight, grasping at his tip with my sphincter, and he pushed his hips forward. I let out a little sigh at the sudden fullness, but he reared his head back and grinned from ear to ear. He grabbed my thighs and split me open with short, steady thrusts until I felt his jeans against my ass.

I tried not to howl, to moan and beg for more, with the rest of the family just downstairs, but what’s-his-name’s distinct grunts echoed down the hallways. He muttered about how tight I was, how warm and welcoming, and how my pussy needed to be bred by a real man. A sarcastic part of my wanted to ask if he knew where to find one, but he slammed the thought out of me.

What’s-his-name battered my hole in a hurry, holding me tight as he drew close and locking his lips to mine, his body enveloping me, as he flooded my insides with his seed. And quick as he began, he slipped out of me and back into his jeans.

As he zipped up, I asked if I was as good as he hoped. He just grinned and told me to have my pussy waiting for him in the downstairs bathroom that night. It wasn’t until later that I found out what’s-his-name would arrange for Peter’s dad to meet us there. At least I wouldn’t have to lie when Peter asked on the drive home if I enjoyed meeting his family.

[whatshewontdo]

Did you enjoy the party babe? I’m glad. You know now that it’s just us I gotta tell you something. You got an ass on you that could turn any man gay. I been thinking such nasty things seeing that. I wanna make you scream for me… it’s just us. You don’t gotta be shy. Older men teach the younger ones. I see you getting bricked up. You like hearing a grown man talk nasty to you? Bet you’d like it if I split that lil ass open. You ever jerk that young cock to mature men? Have you ever thought about me folding you up like a pretzel and making that asshole hurt? I been pounding off to you since you hit puberty. Want you in the worst way babe. Finish up them dishes. I’m gonna find some baby oil and a sock for you to bite when we start. I’m gonna be waiting upstairs. Laying on your bed. Buck naked. Ready to fuck that ass 6 ways from Sunday. This is how every young gay learns. It’s a mature man’s responsibility… I’m glad to see you get so hard. Just you wait, I’m gonna say even nastier things when I pop that hole wiiiiiide open.

[mariachihandroll-deactivated202]

[twisted-talez]

“You’re still a fucking stud,” Rex winked to himself, standing shirtless before the bathroom mirror, his big dick stuffed into his shorts, still engorged and slicked with cum. He held up his phone to take a selfie, a souvenir of the auspicious day.  

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. 

Rex blamed his wife for this indiscretion, for she was often at the root of his problems. It had all started that morning. 

“Be sure to leave work timely today,” Barb had ordered him. “The entire family is meeting us for your birthday dinner at Maison du Tricheur. I’ve booked a table for 7 pm.”

Rex hated fancy French food and hated Barb even more for not knowing that about him by now—his sixtieth birthday. Rex missed the days before his marriage when he and his buds would spend his birthday at some dive pub, eating greasy burgers and knocking back cheap beer, scoring easy pussy by the end of the night. Now all of his buds were married with children and grandchildren, and he rarely saw any of them anymore. It sucked to get old. 

“I’ll be home by 6 pm,” he assured his wife, accepting a peck on the cheek from her. Rex recalled those early years of marriage, before kids, when Barb would wake him up on his birthday with a sloppy blow job and then ride his cock until he creamed her cunt. Those days were over. Rex couldn’t recall the last time Barb had spread her legs for him. 

Instead of pounding his wife’s pussy that morning, Rex had decided to pound some weights at the gym. He was proud of his killer body and didn’t see his birthday as an excuse to skip leg day. 

“Happy birthday,” Rex’s trainer smiled as Rex entered the gym. Luke was holding out a bag of gym swag as a gift to Rex. It was just a bunch of cheap crap emblazoned with the gym logo, but the gesture touched Rex just the same. 

Luke had been Rex’s trainer for the past two years. He was twenty-four and had a defined gym body typical of trainers. Luke was also openly gay and wasn’t so good at hiding his crush on Rex. It made Rex uncomfortable at first, that this young, fit, attractive gay dude was into him. But in time, Rex learned to take the crush as a compliment. 

“Any plans for tonight?” Luke asked, piling weights onto the leg press for Rex. 

“Uh—dinner with the family at Maison du Tricheur,” Rex replied, taking a seat at the press. 

“I thought you hate French food?” Luke cocked his head. 

“I do,” Rex laughed. “I’m glad you can remember that, as my wife certainly can’t.”

“That sucks,” Luke sympathized. “Well, at least you’ll score some birthday sex tonight.”

“Ha!” Rex laughed sarcastically, extending his legs, the weights rising in response. “My wife hasn’t shown me her pink pussy in years. I’m certain she won’t start again tonight.”

“Fuck,” Luke gasped. “That really sucks, man. What a complete waste of that big dick you’ve got.”

“Wait a minute,” Rex let the weights crash down. “How’d you know that I’ve got—”

“A big one?” Luke cut him off with a laugh. “Dude. It’s open showers here. Everyone at this gym knows you’re hung like fuck. All the gay dudes call you Long Dong Silver behind your back.”

“You’re shitting me,” Rex gasped, his hand covering his junk instinctively. 

“I kid you not,” Luke raised his right hand as if taking an oath. “I can hook you up with an easy hole, if you just want to get your rocks off on your birthday. There’s no shortage of gay dudes here who would gladly bend over for your big one.”

“I’m—I’m not gonna fuck some dude,” Rex protested, scrunching up in his face in disgust. “I’m not some fag—sorry—I know I shouldn’t say that word. I’m not gay.”

“Dude. You don’t have to be gay to fuck a guy,” Luke laughed at Rex’s naivety. “Hell, half the dudes I drag home from this gym are straight, married guys like you who are just looking to dip the stick.”

“Good for them,” Rex replied. “But I’m not about to—”

“You got any plans today?” Luke interrupted. “After the gym?”

“I’m going to work.”

“On your birthday?”

“Yeah.”

“No you’re not,” Luke insisted. “I’m canceling the rest of my clients for the day, and you’re gonna come back to my place.”

“So I can fuck you?” Rex snapped. “Fuck no. You’re barking up the wrong tree.”

“Maybe,” Luke nodded. “But at least come over and let me give you a birthday massage. You’ll be putty in my hands. And if you want to tap my ass afterwards, that’ll be your call. Either way, you’ll get a killer massage out of it. You need to do something special for your birthday.”

Though Rex had no desire to fuck Luke, the massage offer was enticing. It had been ten years since he had a massage—on that Caribbean cruise that he and Barb had taken one summer. The muscular masseuse had grabbed his big cock and offered him a happy ending, but Rex declined, batting the guy’s hand away, disgusted by the seediness of the act. 

“Okay—you can give me a massage,” Rex agreed, finishing his set at the leg press. “But that is all you’re gonna give me, you understand?”

“Fine by me,” Luke winked. “You’re the birthday boy.”

Twenty minutes later, Rex was face down on a massage table in the corner of Luke’s bedroom. Luke didn’t provide a modesty towel to cover Rex’s ass, but Rex wasn’t too bothered by that. Luke had clearly seen his chiseled glutes many times at the gym. 

“Jesus, you’re tense,” Luke remarked, his oiled hands digging into Rex’s beefy shoulders, his capable hands kneeding the twisted knots in Rex’s back. 

“That feels so fucking good,” Rex exhaled, the stress in his body melting away. Luke worked down Rex’s spine, eventually pummeling his sore glutes before heading south and releasing the tightness in Rex’s hamstrings and calves. 

“You can flip over now,” Luke directed. 

“But—but my cock—?” Rex began to protest. 

“Please,” Luke laughed. “It’s not like I haven’t seen it before, Long Dong Silver.”

Though blushing from the monicker, Rex flipped over, his big cock flopping against his left thigh. He tried to reposition his thick member to the center of his body, mortified to find he was sporting a decent chubby. 

Ignoring the rather large elephant in the room, Luke proceeded with the massage, working the soles of Rex’s feet before continuing up his legs with long strokes across the quads that came dangerously close to Rex’s balls. 

Rex could tell he was getting hard, but it was impossible to hold back. His cock had a mind of its own, and no amount of brain power could tame his raging boner. 

“Don’t be embarrassed by that,” Luke acknowledged the massive barrier in his path as his hands continued around it, working up Rex’s abs and to his pecs. “Most guys get wood during a massage—even straight guys. It’s the increased blood flow that does it.”

Rex made no response, willing himself to not feel aroused as Luke worked his pecs, his fingers making soft circles around his nipples, giving gentle flicks. Rex could feel precum running down his veiny shaft, traversing his ball sack. His mind told him to end the massage, that things had gone too far, but his body wouldn’t yield. 

“Fuuuuck,” Rex exhaled as Luke’s hands traveled south once more, his fingers resting just at the base of his shaft, making circles in his pubes. 

And then Luke went for it, gripping Rex’s thick cock at the base with his left hand as his right hand wrapped around Rex’s girthy shaft, slowly jacking that big cock. 

“Christ, that’s feels good,” Rex remarked, raising his head slightly to look down at his big cock being jerked off at a slow, steady rhythm. 

“I’ll stop if you want,” Luke teased, his finger gently circling Rex’s fat cock head, lightly flicking his cum slit. “We don’t have to continue.”

“No—please don’t stop,” Rex pleaded. “It feels so fucking good.”

Emboldened, Luke upped the ante, taking Rex’s cock into his mouth, his tongue swirling around that fat cock head. Rex’s big one responded in turn, growing even more rigid in Luke’s talented mouth. 

“Yeah, suck my dick,” Rex moaned. “Suck my big, fucking dick.”

Luke proceeded to deep throat that big dick, his neck like a piston. Rex’s hairy balls smashed against Luke’s chin on every downbeat. Unbeknownst to Rex, Luke had a black belt in dick sucking and was eager to show off his skills. 

“I’m not gonna last much longer,” Rex warned. “You want me to bust in your mouth?”

“No,” Luke replied, popping off Rex’s cock, that big dick smacking audibly against Rex’s hairy thigh. “I want you to cum up my ass.”

And then the inevitable happened. Rex was powerless to resist it, watching as Luke pulled off his shorts and began to straddle Rex right there on the massage table. Hadn’t this been in the cards all along? If Rex had searched deep into the recesses of his brain, he would have seen that he knew he would end up fucking Luke that morning—that he wanted it to happen. 

“Fuuuuck,” Rex exhaled as Luke sat on his big dick, his fat cock head breaching the tight knot of Luke’s sphincter, his shaft gliding effortlessly into a warm, wet fuck canal. Luke was taking it like a champ, not wincing in discomfort like Barb when Rex used to fuck his wife. 

“You feeling good, big guy?” Luke asked, bobbing up and down on that big dick, his feet planted on either side of Rex’s muscular thighs, his hands resting upon Rex’s hairy pecs. “You like having your big dick in my tight cunt?”

“Fucking incredible,” Rex responded, trying to hold back his nut. “I’ve never had pussy this good.”

And it was true. Rex had reveled in sowing his wild oats in his youth. Having won the trifecta of the genetic lottery—good looking, a hot body, and a big dick— Rex had always scored pussy easily. But of all the bitches that he had once screwed, pounding out his load into them in the backseat of his car on Saturday nights, none had a snatch that could remotely compare to Luke’s hole. 

Never had Rex been able to go balls deep in any girl, his cock head always ramming her cervix before he could reach the elusive bliss of total penetration. Yet Luke easily took Rex’s big dick all the way to the balls in his endless fuck canal. And when it came to tightness, no pussy could match the grip of Luke’s sphincter—not even the countless virgins who Rex had deflowered back in the day. 

“Yeah, fuck my ass,” Luke was moaning, bouncing up and down on that big dick, pulling Rex back to reality. “Fuck my hole with that big dick.”

With his muscular arms propped behind his head, Rex watched the joy upon Luke’s face as he rode that big dick—like a kid with his favorite toy. And then Rex felt it, that familiar throbbing in his balls, the pressure building in his shaft. 

“I’m about to bust,” Rex warned Luke, his big dick swelling within Luke’s depths, on the precipice of orgasm. 

“Yeah, breed my cunt,” Luke begged, twerking his ass rapidly on Rex’s big dick, milking it from within. “Fucking seed my hole.”

“Christ, that’s good,” Rex growled, his load imminent. “Yeah, that’s it, Luke. Just like that—Keep going—Keep going—Here it comes—OH FUCK—FUCK.”

Rex could feel his big dick exploding deep inside of Luke, an epic orgasm as his massive load flooded those warm depths. His big dick continued to pulse over and over, his backed-up balls releasing rope after rope of his thick wad. 

“Mmm yeah, breed me,” Luke moaned, reveling in the sensation of Rex’s throbbing cock within him, the warmth of his load consuming the deep recesses of Luke’s bowels. 

When the salacious act was complete, Luke dismounted, Rex’s copious load streaming from his wrecked hole. Luke immediately collapsed upon Rex, his head on his chest as they remained on the massage table. 

“Did—did you like it?” Luke asked hesitantly, knowing how straight guys can suddenly be regretful after fucking a guy for the first time, even if they had enjoyed the act in the moment. “Did you like fucking me?”

“Did I like it?” Rex laughed, his arms wrapping around Luke. “I fucking loved it.”

“Happy birthday,” Luke tilted his head upwards and kissed Rex, their tongues dancing. Rex had never kissed a guy. But why the hell not? He’d just had his dick in Luke, after all. 

“You’re still hard,” Luke observed, his hand traveling down Rex’s furry body, gripping his cummy cock. 

“Jesus, look at that,” Rex exclaimed, looking down at his engorged member, shocked that he hadn’t yet gone soft. “That doesn’t usually happen. You want to climb back on and ride it again?”

“No,” Luke refused, a devious smile upon his face, dismounting the massage table and pulling Rex with him. “I want you to fuck me in my bed, your hunky body on top of mine, dominating me with that big dick.”

And for the next two hours, Rex pounded the shit out of Luke, pushing Luke’s knees to his chest, pummeling his cunt over and over. Rex lost count of his orgasms, dumping load after load into Luke’s insatiable, greedy cunt. Rex couldn’t believe his own stamina. He was fucking like he was twenty years old, and not like a man turning sixty. 

“You’re still a fucking stud,” Rex winked to himself later that morning, standing shirtless before the bathroom mirror, his big dick stuffed into his shorts, still engorged and slicked with cum. Luke was dozing on the bed, his ravaged cunt leaking a pearly river onto the sheets. Rex held up his phone to the mirror for a selfie, commemorating the first time he fucked a guy. 

Just as soon as he snapped the photo, Rex’s phone buzzed with a text from Barb. She was running errands and was near Rex’s office. Did he want to meet her for a birthday lunch at a nearby crêpe shop?

Rex began to tap out a response, but was interrupted by Luke calling to him from the bedroom. “Get your ass back in bed,” Luke begged. “I want that big cock inside me again. I need your cum.”

Hurriedly, Rex sent a text to his wife: “Can’t meet for lunch, babe. They’re riding me hard at the office today. I’ve been pounding away all morning. See you tonight.”

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

[minotaurus33]

[jocksidagain]

Dad came and spent the weekend with you at your dorm. The way he's making all the girls squeal is putting the rest of you lads to shame. One of them's bound to be preggers by now. Dad doesn't rubber up. You think you even heard your friend Jason moaning like a bitch when you walked past the toilets. Dad was definitely fucking some guy in there. He's such a fucking horndog, you love to see it.

And mom doesn't need to know.

[theknobgoblin]

[twisted-talez]

“Fuck,” my cousin Dakota gasped, trying not to be loud as his cock erupted, spewing his warm load into my eager hole. We could hear our family downstairs, loudly conversing after Thanksgiving supper, taking a break before delving into pumpkin pie. The turkey wasn’t the only thing to get stuffed that day.

Dakota was my Texan cousin and the same age as me. He and his parents made the long drive from San Antonio to Tampa every Thanksgiving to be with me and my parents, our dads being brothers. From the time we were little, Dakota always shared my room for the three days that they were in town. As kids, we spent endless hours flopped on my bed playing the latest game from Nintendo or PlayStation. But now that we were grown up, we discovered a new game to play on the bed.

“Dude, check out my tattoo,” Dakota stripped off his shirt as we got ready for bed the night before Thanksgiving. The state of Texas was branded prominently on his left pec, the lone star emblazoned across his heart. “Dad said I had to wait until I was eighteen to get inked, so I got it on my birthday last month.”

“It’s really cool,” I admired it, reaching out to feel the tattoo upon his smooth pec, the fanning of dark hair on his chest barely sprouting between his pecs. “You and Texas,” I laughed. 

“Everything’s bigger in Texas,” he winked, grabbing his prominent bulge. 

The old adage was certainly true for Dakota—the boy had a big one. I had seen it many times on prior visits, having to shower and change in the same space with him. He certainly wasn’t shy about his endowment, and for good reason. I would have thought he would be more discreet about it when I came out to him as gay a few years prior, but it only emboldened Dakota more. I could tell he got off on knowing that I was ogling his big one, wanting it.

“You still seeing that girl?” I asked as we got into bed, reaching to turn off the lamp on the bed table. “What was her name?”

“Tiffany,” he answered. “Nah—we broke up.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he laughed. “I got too much dick between my legs to be tied down to one bitch.” 

There was no arguing with that. We were then quiet for a few minutes, lying side by side in the dark. I rolled onto my side to face Dakota. His arms were propped behind his head, the moonlight illuminating his muscular body.  

“How long since you had some pussy?” 

“Uh—couple weeks maybe,” he shrugged. “Bit of a dry spell, but that happens.”

“You wanna fuck me?” I offered boldly. “I’m really tight.”

“Fuck no,” he spat. “I ain’t gay like you.”

“I know,” I acknowledged. “But a lot of straight guys have no problem with—”

“I said NO,” he interrupted forcefully. “I ain’t gonna fuck you. Now go to fucking sleep.”

The tension was palpable, both of us lying there in silence, staring at the ceiling. I didn’t regret offering up my ass to my cousin, as I had wanted to find the courage to do so for a long time. But now I feared I might have driven an irreparable wedge between us. My fears quickly proved to be unfounded. 

“You wanna jack me?” he finally broke the silence. “I haven’t emptied the pipes since we left San Antonio three days ago.”

“Jesus,” I sat up. “Are you serious?”

“Fuck yes,” he replied, pushing down the bedsheet to his knees. “Have at it,” he invited, yanking down the waistband of his briefs and resting it below his ballsack, his nine-incher reaching for the ceiling. 

Not wasting a moment before Dakota changed his mind, I reached out and grasped his big one, my hand unable to grip the entirely of his shaft. His rod was thicker than my wrist, and so I used two hands, one at the base of his shaft, the other up closer to his mushroom head. 

“Fuuuuck,” he exhaled, as I began to stroke him up and down. “I can tell you’ve done this before.”

“Once or twice,” I laughed. “It’s the reason I always get invited on camping trips.”

“You bad boy,” he reached over and mussed my hair. “Tighter,” he directed me, wrapping his hand around mine, increasing the pressure on his shaft. “Yeah—just like that. You’re not gonna hurt me—it can take a beating.”

Call me greedy. Call me ungrateful. Though it was undoubtedly hot to be jerking off my hot, hung, straight cousin—I wanted more. I wanted to suck it. I wanted him to fuck me. And so I made a bold move. While still gripping his big one, jacking it slowly, I leaned over and took that fat head, dripping with precum, into my warm mouth.

“Nice try, fucker,” he pushed me off, his meaty paw making contact with my forehead. “I’m not gonna let you suck me.”

“Dude,” I protested feebly, his big dick still in my grasp.  “What’s the difference between letting me jack you and letting me suck you?”

“It crosses a line,” he informed me. “It ain’t gay to get a handjob. Jesus, that’s means nothing. But sticking my dick in you—that’s fucking gay, bro.”

“Fine,” I acquiesced, knowing it was pointless to argue with his deluded sense of what was and was not gay. “Will you at least shoot in my mouth? I really want to taste your load.”

“You’re so fucking dirty,” he laughed. “I ain’t putting my dick near your mouth. You’ll just try to suck me. But you can aim my load up my chest and lick it off. That work?”

“Sure,” I agreed, eager to get something out of the negotiation, even if his cock wasn’t going down my throat or up my ass. 

Deftly, I went back to work, stroking that big dick vigorously. Jerking him was so much more work than jacking my own cock, given his length and girth. My biceps were already starting to hurt, my forearms burning. Thankfully, that pent-up load meant that Dakota was not going to last long. 

“Fuck that feels good,” he moaned, his arms propped behind his head once more, his balls tightening. “Yeah—right there. Jesus, that’s good. You keep that up and I’m gonna—I’m gonna—Fuck, bro—I’m about to—FUCK—SHIT.”

Quickly, I angled his big dick up towards his chest and watched in awe as Dakota delivered a porn-worthy money shot. The first shot of his white gold discharged from his swollen cock and arched over his abs, splatting all over his chest. Rope after rope of his cum continued to fly, coating the state of Texas, and draining into the furry valley between his pecs, running into the cum gutters of his abs.

“Fuck, that was good,” he exhaled, his big one slowly going soft in my grip. “Damn,” he exclaimed, looking down at his chest and abs, glistening with pearly luminescence in the moonlight. “Looks like you’ve got a big mess to clean up.”

I quickly dove into his chest with my tongue, slurping up his creamy goodness. Jesus, it tasted good. 

“Yeah, eat my cum,” he directed, his hands on my head. “You like how it tastes, you dirty fucker?”

“Fucking delicious,” I replied, licking my lips, savoring his manly ambrosia. 

“Alright—I’m beat,” Dakota promptly called an end to the fun, stuffing his spent cock back into his briefs, pulling up the sheet. “Goodnight.”

I returned his nocturnal wishes, and then rolled over onto my side. I was just about to fall asleep, blissfully happy to know that Dakota’s load was swimming in my belly, when I felt his arm upon my shoulder, his lips pressed near my cheek.

“Play your cards right,” he whispered, his breath hot at my ear, “and maybe I’ll let you suck me off tomorrow.”

Thanksgiving day was a blur, our house filled with even more relatives. Thanks to my cock-block mom, I barely saw Dakota. While he enjoyed the Macy’s parade and a lively game of touch football in the backyard with some of our other cousins, I was too busy being ordered around—snapping green beans for the casserole, peeling potatoes, putting the extra leaves in the dining room table, ironing the table cloth and napkins, polishing the silver, and lifting the turkey in and out of the oven multiple times so my mom could check its internal temperature. 

My internal temperature spiked each time I got a glimpse of Dakota, my mind reeling at the possibility of sucking him off that night. By the time we sat down for Thanksgiving dinner with the family, Dakota seated next to me in the dining room, I was horny as fuck. I didn’t know how I was going to get through the meal without crawling under the table and sucking him off in front of the entire family. 

Dakota didn’t make things any easier for me. Halfway through the meal, as Uncle Clyde told a boring story about nearly shooting off his foot while duck hunting, Dakota reached over and grabbed my hand from under the table. Deftly, without drawing any attention, he placed my open palm upon his hard cock, straining through his jeans. And as the family laughed in unison at the conclusion of Uncle Clyde’s tale, Dakota leaned into my ear and whispered, “I want to fuck you—now.”

Thankfully, the meal ended moments later, my mom announcing that we would take an hour pause before pumpkin pie to allow her and my aunts to clear off the table, start the dishwasher, and make coffee. Dakota and I raced upstairs, quickly locking ourselves into my room.

“Face down on the bed,” Dakota ordered me as we stripped out of our clothes. “You got any lube?”

“Yeah,” I reached into my bed table and retrieved my trusty bottle of Astroglide, tossing it to Dakota. “You’re going to need to use a lot of it, bro. You’re hung as fuck.”

“Sure thing,” he winked, slathering his cock generously. “I take it you’ve done this before?” he asked. “Taken a cock up your ass?”

“Yeah—once or twice,” I laughed. “Just one more reason I often get invited on camping trips.”

“You cock slut,” he smacked my ass, climbing between my legs, preparing to mount my ass from behind. “You want this big dick up your ass?” he teased, pushing the tip of his cock against the pink folds of my cunt. 

“Yes,” I exhaled, his cock breaching my sphincter. “Push it in me—get its all the way up there.”

“Fuuuuck,” he exhaled, going balls deep in me. “Shit, bro. No bitch has ever taken all of me before.”

“You’re a lot to take,” I winced, willing myself to not scream as he stretched my sphincter to the max. 

“You ever taken one as big as mine?” asked Dakota, his big one gliding in and out of me, routing my depths.

“No,” I admitted, the initial shock to my hole wearing off, his big dick beginning to feel good inside of me. “You’re the biggest by far.”

“Yeah—I hear that a lot,” he boasted, smacking my ass, picking up the pace. “Fuck you’re tight,” he marveled. “I ain’t ever fucked a bitch that was this tight—not even virgins.”

“I told you I’m tight, bro,” I teased, twerking my ass on his rod. “The straight guys who fuck me always tell me that ass is way better than pussy.”

“They ain’t lying,” Dakota laughed, slamming his weight into me as he began to pick up the pace, his rhythm and pace building. “Shit, this cunt is good.”

His cock was like a jackhammer in me, ramming harder and harder with each thrust, his balls smacking the back of my ass. I could tell he was trying not to be too loud, but there is only so much one can do to negate the telltale sounds of fucking. Thankfully, it was going to be a quick ride.

“I’m already feeling close, bro,” Dakota announced urgently. “You good if I dump in you?”

“Fuck yeah,” I exclaimed eagerly. “Fucking seed my hole.”

Dakota initiated a quick series of thrusts, his full weight upon me, the bed straining under us. I could feel his cock swelling inside of me, pushing deeper as his throbbing balls pressed up against my hole. His breathing began to quicken, his body quaking uncontrollably above me.

“Fuck,” my cousin gasped, trying not to be loud as his cock erupted, spewing his warm load into my eager hole. “Fuck—Fuck—Fuck,” he grunted softly, as his big dick pulsed in my depths, flooding my void with his warm seed. 

He collapsed upon me, our bodies melded, as his cock finished emptying inside me. Slowly, his breathing returned to normal, his cheek pressed against mine. I reveled in this new bond that had been forged between us. Suddenly, I was pulled back to reality, the sound of Aunt Rita laughing loudly downstairs, the clink of glasses and dishes in the kitchen. 

“We better get downstairs,” Dakota pulled out of me abruptly, his warm load escaping from my gaping hole, running down the back of my ballsack. “I don’t want to get busted fucking you.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “You go ahead, and I’ll be down in a few minutes. You’ve kind of made a mess of me.”

“Yeah,” he laughed, pulling on his shirt and stuffing his wet cock into his shorts. 

From the bed, I watched as Dakota unlocked and opened the door. “Dad?” he gasped, discovering his dad, my Uncle Clyde, standing in the doorway, his arms crossed defiantly as he looked in upon my naked, ravaged body on the bed. “Dad—we were—uh—we were just—” Dakota began to stammer.

“I heard every bit of what you two were doing,” my uncle cut him off.  “Now go downstairs, Dakota, and help your mom put out the dessert plates. I need to have a little chat with my nephew.”

Dakota nodded sheepishly and headed downstairs, as Uncle Clyde stepped into my room, closing the door behind him. I was mortified, fearful that Clyde was going to rage at me for giving up my ass to his son. 

“Please don’t overreact, Uncle Clyde,” I pleaded, scrambling to cover myself with the bedsheet. “Let’s be calm about this. How about we go downstairs and have a slice of pumpkin pie, and we can talk about this later once you’ve calmed down?”

“Pumpkin pie?” he laughed, undoing his pants, pulling out a massive cock that was identical to Dakota’s in every way, my hole twitching in eager anticipation. “The only pie I want is some of your pussy pie. Now be a good boy and open those legs for me. I’ve got a big load that I plan to dump in your sloppy cunt.”

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

[thinking-mans-submissive]

High School Sweethearts

Part One

“Well, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Chamberlain. Nice to meet you too.”

Matt’s mom was nice in the way that southern women are. Too nice. But I could see that all too familiar look in her eyes as Matt led me to his bedroom. Bitch was practically salivating. I’m used to it. Women think I’m much older than I am. When they find out I’m just a senior in high school, they think I must have been held back because I’m dumb as dirt, a star football player, or both. I’m neither of those things, but it’s just easier for me to play along. 

Being this hairy at my age - well, it gets you a lot of attention at school too. I used to be embarrassed by it. Felt like a fuckin’ circus freak. But Matt loves it. He’s as smooth as a baby. Looks like he’s in 6th grade even though we’re in the same graduating class. 

I suppose it’s your classic opposites attract kind of thing; I’m attracted to him in much the same way. But if it started that way, well, it’s much deeper than that now - and I ain’t just talkin’ about his ability to finally take my dick all the way to the balls (thank god!). 

I love how his body feels. Kinda fragile, like a girl. And now that I’ve taken his cherry, so to speak, I can’t get enough of that tight ass. It’s so much better than pussy. And even though he’s fragile for a guy, he still takes everything I’ve got without complaining. But leave a few bruises on a cheerleader and suddenly you’re a rapist. 

Unfortunately, we’re not going to be able to fuck with his mom in the house; I’m too aggressive and Matt makes too much damn noise. It’s cute though and turns me the fuck on. I know it must hurt like a son of a bitch! But he is such a little slut for my big dick, and I love it. 

I’m glad we’re graduating soon, because this thing we’ve got is gettin’ serious and I want him in my bed. We’re going to the same college and going to move in together off campus. Baby girl is going to work full time while I go to school. After all, she won’t need an education to be a housewife. 

I can’t wait to domesticate her. I’m pretty damn sure she’s going to take to it like a duck to water. And if she struggles, a nice swat across my lap should put her in the right frame of mind. I’m thinking regular maintenance spankings will probably be in order. 

I’m going to keep her in the house for awhile until she settles in - take away her car keys, cell phone, and internet access. By the time I graduate and go to grad school, she’ll be so happy and so will I. Wish I could put a baby in her.

[uw2025]

[fathernature83]

From Boy To Man - Becoming an Alpha:

By FatherNature83

"With women officially extinct, we men here at MSNBC want you men of America to know we will continue to deliver the news and lead this new transition. Tonight, the Mayo Clinic has confirmed the rumors, men who have sex with men are becoming pregnant. If Darwinism is the survival of the fittest, some men's bodies will bear the next generation of men."

"Man turn that off and let's play that new video game 🎮."

I lay in bed with my boyfriend Bailey, just a few years younger than me, and a senior in high school. People always think he's still a freshman with his twink features and slender/toned body, but he's 18 😉. His tight white briefs hugged his firm glutes as he played the video game. I took pictures of his sweet round ass as I felt my dick get hard. Lately it was getting rounder, his thighs becoming more toned, my favorite snack was now eating his bussy fresh out of the shower. His tight hole was tasting sweet and it gave me a high every time I feasted on it.

My dick was almost fully hard as I watched him play, I was stroking through my underwear and thinking about what my old man had asked me earlier. He knows I'm wild about Bailey, and I've grown more protective and possessive as our relationship has progressed. My dad sat me down today asked...

"Son, with women gone and well, uh this new evolution, I wanted you to know if you and Bailey want to....."

He looked off towards our family portrait above the fireplace. Looking at my mom who'd been dead for nearly 10 years. He looked back at me and had a serious look in his eyes.

"They say the young guys are the most fertile, at least that's what they know now, and the military is offering subsidies to men who want to start new families. I hear you and Bailey fuck, so I want to give you my blessing."

"Dad, are you serious?"

"Son, you carry our good name and Bailey is practically an orphan, you two could marry and have strong sons. It's not taboo anymore, you're both young and have all the energy in the world. You'll appreciate it all later. Besides, as young as Bailey is, his figure will snap back better if he bears a child now anyway. "

I remember sitting there on the sofa, stunned and hard as a rock. I could impregnate my 18-year-old boyfriend, I didn't have to wait to be a dad. There were no more universities, no more high-power jobs to kill yourself studying in school for, and internships to try to attain. All that mattered was repopulating and building a family, the most basic function of males.

I looked at my old man as he put his thick arm over my shoulder.

"Dad, I think Bailey is on his cycle, the one they say happens to some guys now. I think he's ovulating. "

My dad leaned in close to my face with a serious expression."

"So go get it champ, make him the mommy he's destined to be. All he wants is you.!" I was about your age when I had you, sure it's hard work, but being a father to you has been the best reward I've had as a man."

"Awww, dad"

I leaned in and hugged my father, soon he'd be all grandad.

Snapping out of my memory of what my dad said, I continued stroking as Bailey advanced to the next level of the game. My dad's genetics blessed me with an 8.5-inch cock that was thick, but getting thicker lately. My balls were swelling and aching a lot too. Looking down at Bailey is scooted down and gently pulled down his briefs.

"Hey I'm almost at, oh fuck Travis that feels good....."

My tongue 👅 had mapped out every stimulating point of Bailey's anus. I knew what movement to make with my tongue, how/when to speed it up or slow it down. Tonight I felt so fuckin hungry 😩 and was devouring his bussy hole as his sweet juices started to come out.

"Oh damn, you got me so wet, we should really talk first, I outta tell........oh shit, oh your tongue is in deep."

I chowed down on that boy bussy like I was in a pie-eating contest. Its flavor was even sweeter than usual, more of this sticky honey that it kept pushing out. I pushed my long tongue deep into his hole and that's when I knew for sure this was the right time as all of a sudden.....

"OH FUCK, TRAVIS, MY HOLE IS.."

Splat!!

Jets of Bailey's anal honey hit the back of my mouth as I nearly choked on the sweet boy goo. I pulled off his ass as my face was covered in his nectar. He wa self lubricating. I looked up and saw his face red and embarrassed.

"Travis, I'm sorry, something is changing inside me, I think I'm one of those..."

"NOTHING TO THINK ABOUT, YOU'RE A BEARER IN HEAT." I said in a deep and loud voice.

Bailey gulped and looked nervous as I climbed on top of him and kissed him deep, both of us tasting his honey and sharing in its young sweetness. His body quivered as I wrapped my muscular arms around his neck and then whispered in his ear 👂.

"You know you're ovulating, nothing to be ashamed of, and you're a lucky boy, because my dad gave me his blessing...."

Bailey quivered, half of him trying to control his body and what it wanted and the other half scared.

"Blessing? You mean like.... OH FUCK! How did you get inside so easy, what the fuck?"

"Just relax baby boy, my old man pledged his support for us. I love you, and when a man loves his boyfriend, they seal their bond, they mix their DNA and...."

"OH FUCK, YOU MEAN???"

I bit gently on his ear as I pushed passed the second hole 🕳 and rested deep inside as he screamed.

"Yeah, I'm taking what's mine."

I placed my open palm under his tight abs and he gasped in shock and desire.

"I'm going to plant my seed in you, watch your belly grow, watch you scream out our firstborn son into my arms.!"

"I'm only 18, I'm only 18, but fuck, I love you too. You're the only one that actually cares about me."

"Don't worry baby boy, I'm gonna do right and marry you, but you're in heat, so we gotta fertilize your egg, okay?"

Bailey nodded his head and kissed me, I rolled him onto his back and he held up his legs as I began to deep piston him missionary style, the baby making position! He looked up at me mouth open in awe at what we were doing. His pretty blue eyes communicated love, desire, and submission all at once.

"You're going to look so hot carrying my son, your tummy big as a beach ball, and stretch marks like badges of honor. These pecs are going to be so heavy and aching from the milk you'll be producing. You gonna nurture life I put inside you boy?"

"OH FUCK YES TRAVIS, I'M GOING TO BE A GOOD YOUNG WIFE AND MOMMY TO OUR BOY, MY BODY NEEDS THIS, I'M SO GLAD IT'S YOU, BREED ME!"

I pumped hard and felt my aching balls slap against his now red smooth cheeks as I seriously stretched his hole and battered his cervix. He was opening up for me like he'd never done before and I felt his legs wrap around my back, pulling me in close and tight. We kissed, two males, two boys creating a boy for our future.

"TELL ME SOME NAMES FOR OUR SON AS I GET CLOSE"

Bailey was screaming in pleasure, every pounding I gave him was like an orgasm building up from his hole and shooting out over his whole body.

"ELLIOTT, COOPER, TUCKER, ALSTON...."

"Perfect strong names for a boy, don't worry, we'll use all of them in good time. "

"OH YES, BREED ME THROUGH MY YOUTH, SHOW ME WHAT MY BODY CAN DO"

I felt a tightness in my balls, they were churning the baby batter I was about to blow into my 18-year-old boyfriend's womb. As I got close and zeroed in on the prize....

"Good pace son, ease up a bit and then hit it hard. Show him what his body can take!"

There was my old man, tall muscular with Grey hair silver body hair across his broad chest, and ripped abs, framed by huge muscular thighs and a beer can thick 9-inch cock. Bailey looked up as I slowed my strokes, his face in awe.

"Mr. Andrews, that's where Travis came from..."

My dad smirked and lowered his plump sized balls and cucumber dick over my boyfriend.

"Why don't you show my manhood your appreciation son? It's responsible for your future husband who's breeding you."

Bailey licked them balls gently as I continued fucking, this was pure bliss, bonding with my dad, him here to witness me siring my first of several sons!.

Bailey slowly swallowed my dad's cock, my old man squatting over him up and down just like he taught me in the gym. We both stared into each other, our eyes approving of the moment that felt so right..

"Son I'm close, you think you can swallow Bailey?"

Bailey nodded as I heard the deep groan of my father, his hairy muscular thighs shaking as he shot straight into my teenage boyfriend's mouth. I pulled him quickly and pushed my tongue into his mouth as we ravaged the taste of my father's seed, the seed that made me.

Our lips covered in seed, I bounced Bailey up and down as he wrapped his arms around me, while my dad ran his fingers through his hair, whispering how happy he was to have him as a future son-in-law.

"My boy loves you Bailey, you can do this. You'll have a whole new life to love."

"OH FUCK, BAILEY, I'M MAKIMG YOU A MOMMY. OH SHIT DAD, MY BALLS HURT!!"

It felt like someone was squeezing my balls as they erupted jet after jet of baby batter, my body shaking as Bailey's hole filled up fast with almost a liter of seed. We kissed over and over as my father sat back and nodded in approval. My orgasm lasted probably 3 minutes before I finally came down. Our bodies covered in sweat, cum, and passion. My dad leaned back in as all three of us made out and I laid Bailey on his back, my dad pushing a butt plug inside of him after I pulled out. We both kissed his sperm covered tummy, as if to coach my sperm along to the finish line.

"Bailey " I said,

"Welcome to the family. "

[alpha-male-stef]

It is so wrong, but it feels so good. I have been fucking my wife her younger sister. An 8 year younger 23 year old woman. She is obsessed with my 35 year old dad bod and enjoying this monster cock.

My wife is almost unable to get pregnant, but her little sister does not have that problem. The idea of having both of them swelling with my kids in their belly drives me mad with lust. I cannot stop thinking about that when I put my bare cock in them. Now she joined my gym, sitting naked across from me. Opening her legs showing me her freshly shaven entrance. My cock throbbing and getting hard as steel as I urge her to come her. Her hands wrapping around my hard meat, the feeling of those small hands make me feel enormous. The precum oozing from the slit as I put her down bent over on the bench.

Her little wet hole so slippery wet I slide right in. I go hard and without holding back. Someone could walk in any second so I have to be quick. Her moans sounds just like my wife, when I close my eyes it feels like her as well. It just feels tighter, I wanna hear her beg for my cum. I ask if she wants my load, and like clockwork she began begging for it. Begging for daddies load, and have my perfect baby boys in her.

I came like a flood, such pent op power all rushed through me. I felt every blast it it ending deep in her. She was already thanking me for my load, easily I rubbed her clit and made her cum on my cock. Her orgasm making sure that seed takes root in her.

I gave her a little kiss, and told her if she wanted more she had to tell the story it was a stranger from the club. No name, no clear face. It was safe to say she was pregnant quickly. Like a good girl she played her role good, told the story and all was well. Me and my wife started an ivf almost a year after the kid was born. How her sister kept being knocked up was the story of the family. Even my wife commented about her slutty sister getting knocked up by strangers for the third time in a row.

I however knew better, kid number three growing in her is all mine. I won’t be stopping anytime soon. I like to keep it going as long as possible, using that pretty fertile womb to spread these genes

[hungryforbears]

[graybeards]

“Do you ever think about that time in the basement?” Bill asked. His fathomless brown eyes trapped mine in an inescapable gaze. I couldn’t look away and I couldn’t lie.

“Which time?” I evaded. “We practically lived down there for four years.”

“You know the time,” he said with a chuckle.

“Oh, well… I guess once in a while.”

He nodded gravely. A blink gave me the chance I needed to look somewhere, anywhere else. But the conversation wasn’t over.

Bill whispered, “I think about it a lot.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, man,” he replied. “I feel bad.”

“Oh…” I nodded as if I knew, “well it didn’t mean you were gay or anything. We were just—”

“Not because of that,” Bill interrupted. “You just looked so freaked out when I left. I’m sorry, man. I shouldn’t have been so rough, and I definitely never should have called you a fa… well, you know.”

I’d rarely seen the guy looking tearful, but I found myself staring into watery eyes as I realized what he meant. “Well, thanks, but that’s not why I was freaked out.”

He stared at me expectantly for a moment before prompting, “It wasn’t?”

“No,” I paused and took a deep breath before admitting, “it was because I liked it.”

“You liked it when I…?”

“Yeah.”

“But you were so tight, you were crying. It hurt, didn’t it?”

“Oh, it hurt—it felt like you were shoving a beer can in there—but it was incredible.” I could barely breathe as I recounted it. “You felt so strong, pinning me to the couch with those big nuts slapping against me.”

“So you really are a…”

“Say it,” I hissed.

“Faggot,” he whispered and I nodded, chewing my lower lip. “Man, remember when you kicked the shit out of Kevin Wilson for calling you that?”

I laughed a little and said, “It just sounds different from you, like you’re just asserting your dominance. Like you’re claiming me or something.”

“Fuck,” Bill grinned, “you know, I never would have admitted it, but I loved making you my bitch that night. It made me feel like such a fuckin’ alpha dog.”

“Did you ever… with another guy?”

“Nah,” he shook his head. “I felt like a damn monster. We didn’t even hang out for like months.”

“I just thought you were avoiding me.”

“Maybe I was,” he admitted. “I got Betty to let me fuck her in the ass a few times, but it wasn’t the same. Did you?”

I nodded and took a breath, “Yeah, a few times before I met Emily.”

“No wonder she had you so whipped if you were a…” he paused until I nodded, “… faggot.”

“Damn,” I sighed.

“So how about it, faggot?” Bill growled as he moved closer. “You want to get on your knees for a real man again?”

I let my hands fall to the enormous round bulge in his jeans. It was soft, coiled in his briefs into a tight ball of man flesh that started to swell at my touch. “You’re even bigger than I remember.” I pressed against him, my chest to his belly, and looked up into his dark eyes.

His arms constricted around me and he leaned down, the softness of his thick beard pressed against my face as our lips met. He lowered his hands down my back to cup my ass and lift me up off the ground. My feet dangled below me as we kissed. His jeans stretched around his growing manhood.

“You’re soft,” he muttered between my lips. “I was too scared to kiss you last time, but you feel just like a woman.”

“You don’t,” I whispered with a chuckle.

His chest rumbled against me with a low laugh. I could feel his powerful heartbeats quickening when he enveloped my mouth with his own, forcing my lips apart with his tongue and filling me up as I fondled the enormous snake slithering down his thigh. He slid a hand under my clothes and let me feel the warmth of his strong fingers between my cheeks. His dry middle finger teased my hole relentlessly as he carried me over and pinned me against a wall.

“What is this?” Bill asked, pushing his fingertip inside me.

“M-my ass,” I answered, my lips quivering with painful pleasure.

He shook his head, scraping his thick beard across my face with every turn, and corrected me, “Not anymore. This is your pussy now.” He let my weight rest on his finger and lowered my hole down to the dry knuckle. “I’m gonna breed this cunt whenever I want. Aren’t I?”

“Yes, sir,” I howled as he explored my insides with his buried digit. 

“I’m gonna put a baby in your belly. I bet you’d like that.” His breath was hot on my face, steaming over me like the eager exhalation of a ravenous beast. “Just imagine, your skinny little body swollen with one of my big boys in your belly.” 

Bill pulled out of me and dropped me to the ground like a sack of potatoes, hurriedly unbuckling his belt and flinging his jeans open to free his gargantuan dick and the pendulous balls hanging below it. He grinned down at me as I collected myself, and he said, “You can crawl out of here or you can put those lips around this dick again, but just know, you’ll be mine forever after that. And I won’t hold back on you this time.”

I lowered my eyes from his handsome face to the manhood staring down at me, dripping with excitement. It was full and thick, and brimming with Bill’s seed, and there was no going back. I rose up onto my knees and pressed my lips around his massive purple head. I chose to be Bill’s faggot.

[take-my-body-from-me-deactivate]

The Window

The thirst wakes me first.

It’s the middle of the night, and my mouth is bone-dry, my skin fever-hot. I sit up in bed, heart pounding, and fumble for the glass of water on the nightstand. The first gulp is relief. The second is dread.

It’s time.

Every five years. Like clockwork. My body goes into what I call possession withdrawal—a high fever that won’t break until someone, anyone, takes control of me. And when they do, I’m still there, fully conscious, but powerless. Just a passenger in my own skin.

I glance at the clock—3:17 AM. Outside, the farm is silent except for the hum of crickets and the whisper of wind through the fields. My son, Theo, is asleep down the hall. He flew in from LA a week ago, all lanky limbs and city-boy skepticism, thinking this was just a summer visit with his old man.

God, I hope he says yes.

---

It started when I was 23, backpacking through Southeast Asia.

Some guy in a village in Laos—skinny, with a grin too wide for his face—kept pestering me. "What’s it like?" he asked, poking my bicep like I was a piece of meat. "So much muscle. So strong."

I laughed it off, tried to be polite. But when he started following me, whispering about "trying on a foreign body," I booked it. Didn’t even look back.

Big mistake.

The guy muttered something that sounded like an incantation. Next thing I knew, my skin was crawling, my vision flickering. Then—snap—I was shoved into the backseat of my own skull.

For two weeks, I watched through my own eyes as he haggled at markets, slurped noodles, even flirted with a German backpacker in Chiang Mai. All while I screamed silently behind the glass. He only jumped ship in Bangkok, dumping me back into control just in time to stumble onto my flight home.

I told myself it was heatstroke. Bad mushrooms.

Then, five years later, during a pickup football game, my buddy Mike tackled me hard. I was already burning up, but I’d promised I’d come. Didn’t want to flake.

The second he landed on top of me, knee in my ribs—whoosh. Like a vacuum seal breaking. Suddenly, Mike was in me, his panic ricocheting through my skull as I got shoved aside.

"Dude? DUDE?!" his voice echoed in my head.

"Fuck, not again," I thought back, weirdly calm.

After that, I figured it out: Every five years, the "window" opens. If I don’t let someone in, I’m stuck with a raging fever. But if I do? They get to enjoy being me, and I get relief.

Over the years, I learned to manage it. My buddies took turns. Some treated it like a party trick—flexing my arms in the mirror, marveling at my strength. Others didn’t last an hour, disturbed by my voice echoing inside their heads.

I never told my family. What was I supposed to say? Hey honey, want to hop into my body for a bit so I don’t feel like I’m dying? Yeah, no.

Maybe that secret was part of why Marissa left. Not the only reason, I’m sure. But it didn’t help.

Now, at 57, my options were slim. Mike moved to Australia. Dave died in a freak accident. Everyone else drifted away. That left Theo.

My son. Twenty-two, visiting the farm for the first time in three years. We got along fine, but fine wasn’t close. He’d inherited Marissa’s skepticism and my stubbornness—a hell of a combo. But he was old enough now.

And if he said no? Well, I’d sweat through my sheets alone.

---

I waited until breakfast. Pancakes—his favorite. Syrup pooled on the plate as I cleared my throat.

"Theo," I said. "There’s something I need to tell you."

He smirked, mouth full. "You’re dying?"

"Not quite." I laid it out—the fever, the window, the possession.

His fork clinked against the plate. "Bullshit."

"I wish."

"You’re either fucking with me, or you’ve finally lost it."

I stood up. "C’mere."

He followed me into the living room, wariness written all over his face. I took his wrist—long fingers, faint ink stains from his sketchbook—and pressed his palm to my chest.

"Push."

He raised an eyebrow but complied.

Nothing at first. Then—

His hand sank into me. Not bloody. Not gory. Like warm water. Like dipping into something alive.

Theo yanked back, staring at his hand like it had betrayed him. "Holy shit."

"Yeah."

He backed away, hands in his hair. "This is insane. This is—no. No way."

"You don’t have to decide now," I said. "The window’s open. Two weeks. If you don’t… well, I’ll be upstairs cooking in my own skin."

Theo didn’t respond. Just stared.

---

Days passed. The fever hit hard—chills, dry mouth, the whole miserable routine. I sweated through my sheets on the couch, blankets damp. Theo hovered like I was radioactive.

He’d sneak glances. Once, he sat beside me, hands clasped.

"Does it hurt?" he asked.

"Not once they’re in," I rasped.

"And you’re just… there?"

"Yep. Watching. Front row."

He winced. "Jesus. That’s messed up."

"Tell me about it."

---

One morning, I woke up to movement.

Not mine.

My arms were already swinging my legs out of bed. My fingers rubbed sleep from my eyes. My lungs drew a deep, easy breath—no fever, no ache.

And in the back of my skull, faint but unmistakable: Oh my God. Oh my GOD.

Theo’s voice. Inside me.

He’d done it.

I settled back, a passenger again, as Theo took his first shaky steps toward the mirror.

He stared hard, mouth parted slightly, like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Ran my hands down my chest, over the stubble on my jaw, the lines in my forehead. Then he grinned. Tilted my head. Flexed an arm and whistled softly.

"Shit, Dad," he said aloud, admiring my reflection. "You really don’t make ‘57’ look bad."

---

Theo dove into the experience. Worked the farm like he’d never left it—hauling hay, fixing fences, even wrestling with the tractor when it stalled. He’d pause to touch my chest hair, roll a shoulder, run a thumb over my calluses like they were foreign artifacts.

His own body had been wiry, smooth. This? This was armor. This was power.

Then came Friday.

He drove my truck into town, walked into the bar like he belonged there. A woman sat alone at the counter—late thirties, dark hair, tired eyes. He bought her a drink. They talked.

I kept quiet, listening. He was smoother than I expected—laughing at the right moments, leaning in just enough.

Two hours later, they were in my bed.

I’d seen buddies fumble through sex in my body. But Theo? He moved like he’d been waiting for this. Slow at first—my rough hands on her thighs, tracing lines with my thumbs. Then firmer. Confident.

"You good?" he asked her, breath warm against her neck.

She nodded, shy smile on her lips.

"Use your words."

"Yes."

He smirked—my smirk, sharper now—and flipped her onto her stomach. One hand on her wrist, the other tugging her hips back. She gasped, and I felt it—the thrill coursing through Theo as her body responded to his.

When he paused, breath ragged, and said, "Condom’s coming off," it wasn’t a question.

"Yeah?" she asked, flushed.

"Yeah. Unless you say no."

She didn’t.

Bare, he slid in again—and froze. Just breathed. Felt everything. Then he gripped her tighter, dragged her back against him, hand on her belly like he needed to feel every inch.

"Fuck," he growled, "you take it so good."

She whimpered, and Theo snapped. His pace brutal, the bed slamming the wall. Her cries muffled into pillows, my body groaning with every thrust.

When they came, he didn’t roll off. Just pulled her back against him, chest to her back, fingers splayed over her hip.

"You alright?" he whispered.

She nodded, breathless. Theo kissed her shoulder, soft. "You’re fucking incredible."

She laughed, kissed him back. I stayed quiet, stunned. Not by what he did. By how easy it was for him to be me. To own me.

---

By the last day, I could feel it—the window closing. Not fever. Just pressure. A door inching shut.

"You should get ready to jump," I told him.

He shrugged. "I’m good."

"Seriously, Theo. We don’t know what happens if you stay."

"So I get stuck a couple years. Big deal."

He sounded so casual. Too casual.

That evening, I begged. "Theo, now. Get out. Please."

Then his phone buzzed. The woman. Come over.

He grinned, pulling on jeans.

"You don’t have time!" I snapped.

He didn’t answer.

I panicked. Pushed—whatever part of me was still there. For a second, I felt him waver. Like he lost his footing.

Then he shoved back.

Hard.

It was like falling backward off a cliff—then, thud.

I hit the floor.

My floor. My house.

But not my body.

I looked up. My own face stared down at me. Eyes wide—then narrowing into a smirk. Theo flexed my arm, rolled my shoulder.

"Theo," I said. My voice too light, too high. "What the hell just happened? Am I—?"

"You?" he said, laughing. "Yeah. You are now."

I scrambled up and lunged at him. Hit solid muscle. No sinking. Just impact.

Theo didn’t budge. He adjusted my shirt, grabbed the keys.

"Wait—Theo!"

He paused at the door. "Relax, Dad. It’s only five years."

Then he was gone. The screen door slammed. The truck roared.

I stood there. In his body. Alone.

Breath shaking, I stumbled into the hallway mirror. My reflection stared back—wide, dark eyes, sharp cheekbones, mussed dark hair Young. So young.

"Theo is me," I whispered.

"And I… I get to be Theo now?"

The words left my mouth before I could stop them. My mouth. His voice.

I froze.

A slow, involuntary smirk curled across my face.

I raised a hand—long, smooth, uncalloused fingers—and ran it over my chest, down my sides. My torso was lean and firm beneath my T-shirt. No paunch, no scars. No aches in the joints. My skin buzzed under my touch like it had just woken up.

I couldn’t help it. I pulled off the shirt and stared.

Toned, smooth, hairless. Tight abs. Small nipples. Clean lines.

I turned, admiring the definition in my arms, the graceful slope of my back, the taut curve of my ass beneath the waistband of borrowed boxer briefs.

Tingles of something—panic? relief? excitement?—rippled through me, settling low in my gut.

I took a breath. Grinned wider.

"Fuck," I whispered. "I’m Theo now."

And God help me, I liked it.

[furrypty-deactivated20241218]

[a4f101]

A little longer, but stick with it - I’ve been thinking of this one for a while now ;)

Becoming Something More

So, Mom and Dad won this cruise vacation thing, an all-expenses deal for four people down to the Caribbean. I was hoping to invite my buddy Craig along to make up the fourth - me and Craig were having a blast together our senior year, and I knew that come fall, we’d be going to separate colleges thousands of miles apart, and that was bumming me out a bit, especially given how… tight we’d gotten lately. Instead, they asked my big brother Mike to come, so he took a week off work and flew down to Florida to join us.

Yeah, I was kind of annoyed about that - sharing a room with Craig on a weeklong cruise through the tropics would have been a dream come true. Mike was 25, and the eight-year difference between us seemed more like 30, the past few years. In hindsight, I’d been a bit of a punk, a pain in the ass through my mid-teens - shit, who isn’t - and it was hard to remember sometimes how much I’d looked up to my big baseball player brother when I was a kid. It had been a little while since I’d seen him, and the last time we’d mostly ignored each other. Admittedly, I could run my mouth sometimes, and he’d just give me this look, like he couldn’t believe what an incredible shithead asshole kid I was being, then shake his head and ignore me. Like I wasn’t worth wasting his breath on anymore. Which hurt, though I would never let on about that - but I will admit, it kind of made me think a bit more about how I acted.

But he seemed to be OK, seeing him again now, and given how tight our shared room was going to be, it was a good thing. He was always a big dude, manly as hell, thick-built, strong, solid. He wasn’t as trim and tight as he’d been during his playing days, like I was now, but the thickness worked for him, along with his beard and the carpet of dark fur on his big pecs and solid stomach. I was a little jealous of all the fur, I barely had any. Jealous, and I’ll admit, intrigued. He was just so damn manly, in a way I couldn’t hope to be for another few years. Manly, and… secretly intriguing. Like I said, me and Craig had gotten real tight, real close this past year, and I was thinking about dudes in a whole different way now. Thinking about myself, and dudes, and all kinds of things.

It was good to catch up with him, and since Mom and Dad were using this trip as kind of a second honeymoon, we basically never saw them, except sometimes at meals. So it was the two of us, Mike keeping an eye on me without being too obvious about it, which I kind of appreciated.

“You boys enjoy yourselves, stay out of trouble, and don’t let Brandon drink,” Dad had said the first day as we boarded, Mom smiling indulgently as they headed to their own cabin, probably to do things that I did not want to think about. Gross.

So me and Mike explored the big ship together, played some video games, checked out the gym, the pools. There were a few cute younger girls, and they all gravitated to Mike, especially when he had his shirt off, but he was never anything more than polite and friendly to them. Didn’t seem to be chasing tail. Which was good, because our room wasn’t that big, but then also, a part of my brain kind of liked the idea of pretending to be asleep while spying on Mike’s big, muscular ass plowing some hot little thing in the other bed.

Maybe it was thinking that way that made me a little ornery, that and the surprisingly few opportunities to get five minutes of privacy to jack out a load. But halfway through Day Two, I heard myself being a little bit of a prick again, testing the limits, trying to sneak beers which Mike firmly removed from my hand and dumped overboard. It seemed like he was never too far away from me, keeping an eye on me, and now that was starting to chafe a bit. I started calling him Dad in a sarcastic teenager way, and all that seemed to do was make him act more like Dad.

“We should head down and meet Mom and Dad for dinner,” he’d say. “Yes, Dad,” I’d shoot back, rolling my eyes.

“Dude, can you stop leaving your wet towels all over the floor?” he’d say, exasperatedly. “Yes, Dad,” I’d reply smarmily.

Day Three, I guess I finally pushed him to the brink. I’d found a group of guys and girls around my age to hang with, and we’d managed to locate a bunch of beers and wine coolers, and were clustered around one of the tables on the quieter upper deck, overlooking the pool. I was a little buzzed, enjoying the relaxed vibe, trying to avoid the looks this cute chick was shooting my way with increasing obviousness, trying not to think about how awesome it would have been to have Craig here, the things we could be doing together right now. I looked over the railing to the pool deck below, and saw Mike, shirt over his shoulder, ballcap on, his blue-striped board shorts a little damp, clinging to his powerhouse thighs, his big, muscled ass, talking to a couple around his age. He looked thick, strong, manly, hot as hell. I felt my cock stirring a little in my shorts, as I half-drunkenly zoned out, beer in hand, looking at him, thinking about my big bro. How good he’d been to me when I was a kid, showing me proper batting stance, playing catch with me, when any other big popular 18-year-old high school jock could have been doing a million other, more fun things than spending time with his kid brother. How much I missed that kind of tightness between us, while I was being a teen asshole. And that’s when he looked up and saw me. The smile on his face from his conversation dissolved, his face hardened, a frown coming over it as he looked at me and the drink in my hand. Busted. Fuck. I hurried to get rid of the beer, and when I looked back over the rail, he was gone. This couldn’t be good.

Sure enough, a few minutes later, I felt his big hand fall heavily on my shoulder. The rest of the group looked up at him, the girls with interest, the guys with maybe a little awe as the big, muscled hairy-chested dude squeezed my shoulder in a firm and not at all friendly way. I was already blushing bright red.

“A word, Brandon?” he said, his voice deep and dangerously quiet, already pulling on my shoulder.

“Yes, Dad,” I said, rolling my eyes for effect, for my new friends’ benefit, and the way they chuckled just made it worse. I felt his thick fingers digging hard into the tanned muscle of my shoulder, and he pulled me up out of the seat before I could shake his big mitt off, shooting him an angry look as he propelled me around the corner.

“Fuck, Mike -” I started, already hating the whiny, kiddish tone in my voice. Seeing we were alone, he gave me a hard shove against the wall, leaning in close with a quietly seething expression.

“Enough, Brandon,” he growled, pointing one thick finger in my face. “Enough with the fuckin’ attitude, enough with the games, and enough with this fuckin’ ‘Dad’ shit, you hear me?”

“Yes, Dad,” I snapped. I wouldn’t have blamed him if he slapped my face for that. I would have. Instead, his eyes widened and his nostrils flared, just like Dad’s did when you pushed him too far. I was intimidated, for sure. Maybe even more than when Dad did it, because Dad wasn’t as big and fit a specimen as Mike was. Somehow, the way Mike just stared at me for a long minute only made it worse. My stomach flip-flopped. He looked like he wanted to grab me and just toss me over the side, into the sea, and I knew he was physically capable of it. Worse, I knew I probably deserved it.

Instead, he grabbed my upper arm in a firm, just sort of painful grip, an marched me back to our cabin, wordlessly. Swiped the keycard, shoved me inside, and slammed the door closed behind him. Our room was dim, the curtains half-closed, and weirdly quiet. We just stared at each other, chests heaving, his angrily, mine more nervously. His voice, when he finally spoke, was low, intense, dangerous. Quietly seething.

“You think the way you’re acting is fucking cute, Brandon? You think I’m somehow impressed that a 17-year-old who should be acting like a man is acting like a little 14-year-old bitch?”

I felt my face flush even more, opened my mouth to snap back at him, but he pointed at me again, and silenced me just like that.

“No, you shut the fuck up, kid,” he growled. “I’ve had it with your crap. The attitude, the eye-rolling, the smart-assing. I’d hoped you were over this phase, that we could be buds again, and instead I’m stuck on a fucking boat in the middle of the goddamn ocean with the same smarmy-ass punk you’ve been these past few years. Calling me fucking ‘Dad’. Maybe that’s what you fucking need, is someone to act like a genuine god damn parent to you.”

“Jeez, come on, Mike,” I half-whined. “I was just playing -”

“Well I’m not playing,” he growled, backing me up against the wall of our room. “You need to straighten the fuck up, kid. Get your mind right. Get your fucking attitude in check. I guess Dad can’t make you do that. Guess you need somebody who will. That what you want, Brandon? That what you need… Son?”

Suddenly, I was hard as fuck in my board shorts. I dunno where it came from, but the buzz I still had, Mike’s closeness, his physicality, his scent, a little sweaty and musky, the heat from his body, the fiery look on his handsome face - something inside me, that bitchy, button-pushing part of my teenage brain, suddenly seemed to snap.

“Yes,” I muttered, soft and quiet. The prick of shamed tears in my eyes. Mike looked briefly taken aback, and a weird, silent minute passed between us. Then he nodded, his mouth a tight line.

“Yes what, kid?” he said, voice low and intent, commanding. I looked up and met his eyes, big and blue like mine. Unreadable. My mouth was on autopilot, speaking the truth my brain was a half-step behind in acknowledging.

“Yes… Dad,” I murmured. Swallowed hard. Looked down again to avoid his eyes, down the big, hairy swells of his pecs, my eyes following the thick fan of fur across his tight, hard abdomen, down into his shorts… and shit. Fuck. He was hard too. Big, and hard, like a club in his damp swim shorts. I swallowed hard, heard my throat click. He saw me look down, looked down himself, and then our eyes met, both faces flushed, embarrassed, but there was something else there too. An intensity. An understanding. When he spoke again, his voice was deep, low, determined, but the hard edge had gone out of it. A different edge in it instead. Huskier. More primal, somehow.

“What’s it gonna take, to get that sweet, funny kid back… Son?” he said, trying the word again. My cock throbbed when he did. He noticed. “What’s it gonna take, for you and me to be buddies again, kid? Close, like we used to be?”

I swallowed again, looked at him, feeling small, shamed… but hopeful. Almost eager to make it up to him. To do better. To be better. To be close with him. Close in ways I’d tried not to think about, even. 

“You… Dad,” I said, a little stronger now. “I want to be like that again. With you. Close. Like we used to be, Dad.”

He made a quiet noise in the back of his throat, and I felt him edge closer to me. Welcomed it. Edged slightly closer to him. Then tentatively reached out, my body acting before my brain again, and laid one hand lightly on the big, sun-warmed swell of his furry pec. Felt his heart racing underneath it.

“Like we used to be? Or…” he started, and I suddenly leaned up and kissed him. Quick. Firm. Like I’d wondered about doing, these past few years. He stiffened, his lips still firm, unyielding for a moment… and then I felt them soften. Move with mine. Just for a quick moment, really, but it felt like a year.

“Closer, Dad,” I finally admitted, voice soft and small. He tilted my chin up to look him in the eye.

“This close… Son?” he said huskily, then kissed my lips. Slow. Soft. Like just before, but more. I gasped when he broke it off. “Or like this?” he finished, then kissed me again. Really kissed me. I felt my lips part for his tongue, a hungry moan escaping me, into his mouth, as he slipped inside mine. A whimper, needy, as I kissed him back, felt his big, muscled body press more into mine, two big hard cocks brushing as he pressed me into the wall and really kissed me. Better than Craig did. Better than anyone ever had.

“Yeah, Dad,” I panted when we came up for air. “Just like that. More than that. Everything, Dad. All for you.”

The words tumbled out of me, straight out of my subconscious, and then we were kissing again, kissing and groping, hard-cocked and hungry for each other, two brothers becoming something more. Becoming what we needed to be for each other, as our shorts fell to the floor and we tumbled naked onto his neatly-made bed. A rolling, writhing, moaning mass of flesh, my big, hunky, hairy, Dad-like ex-ballplayer brother, and his little jock brother, little brother and son all in one. I wrapped myself around him as best as I could, my body taking control, expressing the deeply hidden yearnings I’d had for years, the need to learn, to understand, to be with a man. Someone to show me how to be a man myself, to be bigger, stronger, better. And Mike showed me, his big manly body pressed in tight to me, like he’d pressed into and surrounded me with his bigness when we were 10 and 18 and he was showing me that batting stance. Only so much better now, closer and deeper, as we moved together in a different rhythm, as our cocks leaked clear young juices all over each other, as our tongues plunged wet and hot and hungry inside each other’s mouths. As my big brother became my Dad in bed, and brought me to a shuddering, moaning, intense orgasm, my fingers clawing the thick, rippling muscles of his broad back, calling him Dad as I blasted my hot teen cum up between us, and he answered it with a growl and his own load, thick and potent, scalding against my smooth skin.

We lay wrapped in each other, sweating, bodies still heaving and twitching, his sheets a tangled, cum- and sweat-soaked pile around us. His big ex-ballplayer mitts stroked my body with tenderness, with experience, and I kissed him deeply, slowly, softly. Being that sweet loving kid he remembered, that he wanted back, but in a totally different way now. There was something tender and paternal in the way he languidly kissed me back, looked into my eyes, that just added to the erotic intensity of what had just happened, was still happening. I found myself growing hard again after a few minutes, and he grinned and wrapped one paw around my sticky, shiny young cock, giving it a playful stroke-squeeze that had me moaning into his mouth.

“Fuck, Dad,” I moaned, loving how his eyes sparked and his smile widened, as his big cock twitched against my muscled young ass, responding to my need, to my new name for him. To the promise of this new bond between us.

“That’s my boy,” he said, with real paternal pride in his deep young voice, and I rolled over into his big arms and kissed him, deep and long, as we geared up for round two. Let him be my Dad in the most intimate way possible, a way I’d never be with our actual father, and would never want to anyway. Mike was the Dad I needed right now, and who knew - hopefully when this ship docked at the end of the week, I could keep on learning how to be a man from him.

More stories like this at http://a4f101.tumblr.com/tagged/story-time

[talesfromunderthemattress]

https://talesfromunderthemattress.tumblr.com/tagged/story+time

[jay-spear-stories-2]

Breeder

I became a dad at 16. They were the typical reasons: a combination of hormones and youthful carelessness. I was so amped up to finally put it inside. And damn, that pussy was tight. Hot. Wet.

Her eyes went blank as they rolled back in her head, and her words made me nut before I could think to pull out. “Give it to me, papi! I want to feel your load.” I hammered hard and hit it home, with no thought of the consequences.

The consequences came nine months later, when Carmen’s dad showed up in his truck and dragged me to the hospital to put my name to paper and make sure I’d hand over a chunk of my paycheck for the next 18 years. You’d think I would have learned from that, but no. It’s happened several times since.

Breeder. Yeah, there’s a word for it.

Generally it’s what gay guys call a straight guy—or a straight girl too, I guess. A fact-based insult to compete with the many slurs straights have for gays: Fag. Homo. Fairy. Etc.

“Breeder” fit me, but not for the usual reason. Because I wasn’t straight. A week after making it with Carmen I had her skinny brother sucking my cock, and then I put it inside him too.

So different. Mauricio looked at my cock with eyes as worshipful as Carmen’s had been scared. He squealed for more when I railed him. And he begged for my load just as much as she did, maybe more, and using practically the same words.

I felt really good after fucking Mauricio—in a way that I hadn’t with Carmen. And I even gave him a deep, sweet kiss that lasted long enough to melt time. Then it was clear, even for a blockhead like me. I wasn’t not straight. Not anymore.

I stayed with Carmen a few more months, but it was only to keep my access to her brother. He had soft lips and an ass that milked my cock for every last drop.

But I couldn’t with Carmen’s whining and her silly giggles. And I discovered there were plenty of slutty twinks beyond the walls of the Ramirez household. So I moved on. After that, I only saw Carmen at court appearances and supervised visits with my little rugrat.

Things were so much better with the boys. They kissed like they couldn’t get enough. I’d slap them around and they’d crawl back for more. I’d rearrange their guts with a monster fuck and then parade them around town, laughing at their struggle to control the cum leaking from their holes and dripping down their pant legs. I’d expose those little whores in front of their parents, teachers, and friends.

Yeah, I was made to fuck boys. But I was born to breed too.

Sure, I could approximate it with boys. I always fucked raw and they’d always take the load. Little bitches would usually cum hands-free when they felt me unloading inside them. They got off on talking about it: “Breed me, Daddy! Fill me up. I’m dying for your load.”

I’d give it right back: pounding hard and telling them to be a good little bitch and take it. Daddy’s making you a mommy now. Gonna fuck a baby right into you.

It was hot. And it was almost enough. But when I’d lay my hand on the guy’s belly and imagine my seed swimming up there for a new life to take hold…well, I knew I was lying to myself. The fantasy could go only so far.

I needed more. And so I’d fuck pussy from time to time—just to get that rush. To feel that thrill. And lock in the result. I notched two more pregnancies before I graduated high school. I was a teenage dirtbag dad.

Fast forward a couple years.

Dylan and I had been dating for nine months, a lot longer than I’d usually go before switching a boy out . He was a college freshman with wide eyes and soft lips. I was a swaggering 25 year old with two jobs. No college for me; I had to work right out of high school to pay child support for all my kids. And to save up for more.

Dylan was a good fuck, sweet and submissive. He liked it from behind, with me pulling his hair and him arching his back. His horny squeals got louder and louder when we slipped into pregnancy talk. The kid was into it; he would have borne twenty kids for me if he could. I guess that’s why we stayed together so long. But then I met Terry.

Terry was pretty too, but he had a totally different look than Dylan’s choirboy vibe. Terry had an angular face, all sharp lines capped with a shock of black hair. Red, full lips were the only thing to soften his features, a crazy juxtaposition. It made him look both pretty and dangerous, like a baby Mick Jagger.

I zoomed in on him at a party. I had come there with Dylan, but I didn’t let that stop me. I made a beeline to Terry when I saw him standing at the punch bowl.

“Here, let me help you.”

I stepped in and took the ladle. The kid could have handled it of course, but I was testing his willingness to let a man take over. He passed.

“Drink it slowly, baby,” I cautioned. “The guys poured a lot of booze in earlier.”

“I can take it.”

“I’m sure you can. Just don’t want you to be all sloppy when we’re fucking.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Is that your plan?”

“Of course you get a say too.” I leaned in to whisper into his neck. “You can tell me if you want it from the front or from behind.”

He giggled and put a hand on my chest. “Why not both?”

“I like the way you think, baby. Drink up.”

He smiled and raised the plastic cup to his lips. I put a hand on his hip and pulled him in close. He put his hand on mine and slid it down onto his butt. His ass was full and round, like a swollen, late summer melon. I forgot about Dylan completely.

Ten minutes later, I was pulling the kid upstairs and looking for an open bedroom. We ducked in and I threw him on the bed.

I was on his tight body in an instant, pinning his skinny frame under my 210 pounds. I held his wrists against the bed while I rubbed my crotch into him.

“You gonna be a good boy and suck it? Get me nice and wet so you have a little lube for the main event?”

“Yes, sir,” he murmured.

I stripped off my shirt and unbuckled my pants, sliding them down and unleashing my cock. Terry was on it in a flash, eager to lick, to suck, to swallow me down.

The kid had a hot mouth. Warm, wet, experienced. Perfect technique. I let him go nuts, no need to push his head down or anything. He brought the enthusiasm.

Terry stroked my balls while sucked me.

“Jesus,” he murmured. “They’re so big.”

They were. I was blessed with big, low hangers that earned me the nickname “Balls” back in sixth grade, when my body began to change.

“And they’re loaded with cum, baby. Got a steaming hot load to pound into your pussy tonight.” Terry froze for a minute, like the thought scared him. But then he went nuts, sucking even harder. He deep throated me, gagging on it, while his delicate fingers coaxed the cum in my balls to a boil.

“Time to get naked, my boy. It’s not fair that it’s just me.”

I pulled off his shirt and kissed a line from his mouth to his neck to his nipples, then the rest of the way down his chest. I tore into his button-fly with my teeth, unhooking it and pulling his jeans down. Terry kicked off his shoes and I yanked his jeans down to his ankles.

Terry flipped onto his stomach and wiggled his butt. The rosy red color of his briefs made it look like a ripe apple and I took a bite. He squealed and I bit again. I pulled the fabric in from the sides and pushed it into his crack, kissing and biting my way across his creamy cheeks, leaving marks. Terry moaned and pushed back, begging for more.

I grabbed the wad of fabric from his crack and pushed it to the side so I could get my face into his hole. I ate him vigorously, getting everything wet and sloppy, my tongue going everywhere and my face slicked with spit and ass funk. I tapped his pucker, striking hard with two fingers and I watched the bud twitch as I triggered his nerve endings. Then I hocked a good sized glob and rubbed it into his hole. I climbed on top and pushed myself in.

I held Terry’s shoulders while I rutted. Terry was a pro; whatever I gave he returned, pushing his butt back and taking in more and more cock.

“That’s a good little bitch. Make your ass swallow it. Let’s get everything in.”

He whimpered into the pillow and pushed back with his hips.

My heart beat fast, my blood was pumping, and my thrusts got faster. I could feel the cum boiling inside me, building up to blast pressure. I started to talk.

“Gonna flood you soon, baby. Daddy’s got a nice hot load for you.”

“Give it to me!” Terry screamed.

“You’re gonna get it, baby. Push those hips back and get yourself ready. Gonna flood that pussy full. Make you a mommy tonight.”

“Ohhh my God…” he moaned.

And then he reached back and pulled my cock out. It was just for a minute, but I was taken aback. Didn’t he want this?

And then he put my cock back in. Back into the warmth, but things felt slicker now. Like I could push a lot harder. Like I should.

I grunted and slammed into him. The angle was different. I was hitting a deeper, smoother spot. His hole spasmed, gripping me and wrapping me up in its soft envelope.

“Do it,” he murmured into the pillow. “Give me your load. Put your baby in me. Make me a mommy.”

The softer, smoother friction, the new angle, the words—all of it together broke the dam and my cum flooded him. It was a long, extended orgasm, with my cock pumping ounce after ounce of my swimmers.

“God, that’s so hot,” he whimpered. He squeezed his pelvis, desperate to milk all of my load.

“I came already,” he said, “But I think I can come again. Let me turn over?”

I pulled my weight off him and Terry flipped over, looking up and kissing me. He grabbed my hand and pushed it under his briefs. My fingers were drenched where he pushed them against his flesh.

It felt strange. Everything was wet and fleshy, but there wasn’t much of a dick, just a little mound…

I looked down. My fingers were pulling on his clit.

Oh….

My face lit up. My fingers grabbed and squeezed it lightly. I ran my thumb across, stroking him with practiced moves from my past experience with women. I built up speed, rubbing his clit rhythmically. Wet smacking sounds filled the air and waves of pleasure rolled across his face.

Then Terry was cumming again, rolling his head from side to side. He moaned and thrashed against the pillow.

I looked in amazement at hot little Terry and his bright pink pussy.

“Well, that was a fun surprise,” I remarked.

“What was a surprise?” His eyes snapped open with fear.

I was immediately on alert. Shit. I didn’t mean to offend him. I definitely didn’t want to scare him away.

“I thought we’d just fool around just this once,” I covered. “A quick fuck at a party. But damn, baby, that’s not good enough. I need to see you again.”

His lips curled at the edges and then a giant smile spread across his face.

“Perfect. Because that’s what I want too.”

***

Dylan wasn’t mad about me fooling around at the party. He knew I was a dog; he was used to it. As long as I kept fucking him, he didn’t require exclusivity.

But fucking Dylan tapered off as things heated up between me and Terry. We started seeing each other on the sly. Clandestine meetups at first. The sex was wild, our chemistry was hot, and eventually what built up between couldn’t be hidden.

I was neglecting Dylan. And I couldn’t get enough of Terry. The boy had everything. Pretty face, deep voice, hair where it mattered—a dusting on his chest, some stubble on his face—and a super tight ass, with a bonus hole to boot. I didn’t have to go back to girls to have a pussy to play with.

But more than all that, I fell for the beautiful dissonance of his sharp features and soft, full lips. And his eagerness to please.

Terry begged for my loads as much as I demanded he take them. We did it raw every time, narrating the act as we did it. Our words grew dirtier, our bodies pushed harder, and the idea crept into his head and mine. He was willing to go there with the pregnancy talk, and he was the rare one who could put a pussy behind it.

Things with me and Dylan petered out, and Terry and I were now dating openly. I paraded him around like a possession. Terry burrowed himself deeply and demurely into my arms and into my heart. I wanted to take care of him. To make a family with him.

It was his idea to go off the T. No objection from me, of course. I loved the idea of his body going into that sensitive state, becoming fertile. I got off on the risk that this might be the time for my fuck to swell him up and make his body big with my baby.

Terry was nervous about it. Not about the fertility—he wanted that as much as I did. But he was scared of getting soft and moody. He worried about losing the manhood he had worked so hard for. He feared I wouldn’t want him if he slipped off the pedestal of being my beautiful boy.

I reassured him with each animalistic fuck. I was a monster now, going for gold each time, desperate to breed the bitch, to knock him up with my child.

It took seven months but we did it. He came out of the bathroom one morning and showed me the plus sign on the stick. I picked him up and swung him around the room.

“You’ve made me the happiest man alive,” I reassured him.

“Things will be different now,” he whispered. There was a touch of fear in his voice.

“They will,” I agreed. “They’ll be even better.”

Terry had a boy. And the next year, a girl. And two more after that. I always let him go back on the T for a bit, to get his bearings and feel secure in his body again. But soon enough there would be a gleam in my eyes and a glow in his body and we knew we’d have to do it again.

I was made to breed and Terry was made to bear. We were made for each other. I’d finally found the one thing to make me stop fucking around.

Tonight we’re doing it again. It’s been five months off the T. Probably a little early to expect too much, but my boy can do anything. And my sperm are nothing if not insistent.

I’m not fucking his ass tonight. I’m fingering it from behind—my boy loves ass play, for sure—but my real attention is on his front hole. I’m licking, sucking, playing with his clit. Getting his body warmed up, priming his ovaries to release their treasure and meet my gift. When he’s moaning and thrashing on the bed, I straddle him and push my cock into the flower of his pussy. I slide back and forth between the lips, reveling in the combination of my spit and his natural lubrication.

I push my cock fully in, sink it deep. Terry cries out and begs me to fuck him. Fuck him hard and plant my seed at the back end of his fertile pussy.

“Make me a mommy,” he whispers. “Do it again.”

It’s the only time we use a feminine pronoun. My boy is all man, except when I’m breeding him. Then he’s my fertile bitch, ready for what nature lets him do and dying to make me a dad again.

“You feeling good, baby? You think this is going to be the one?”

“It has to be! It feels so good. It has to make a baby this time.”

“Good boy,” I whisper. “Make another baby for Daddy.”

And then I’m nutting inside, flooding him with the kind of monster load I know few men can provide.

“That’s it, baby. I’m fucking it into you. You gonna give me a boy or a girl this time?”

It’s just talk, but his hit rate has been really good. He’s guessed all but one of our kids correctly.

His eyes get wide.

“Both!” he cries out. “You gave me such a big load, I’m sure it’s gonna be twins this time.”

And you know what?

It was.

END

[bejbidedi-deactivated20250211]

[fxxckbucks]

tfw @billthedrake drops a new cinematic universe for the bros

[billthedrake]

THE FRAT HOUSE (PART ONE)

This story got a big assist from Boy Mercury X. Thanks, bro.

I had issues, for sure. Being queer as a three dollar bill and trying to hide it. I was the hockey jock, the cut up, the obnoxious frat dude. I was the kid who blended in with all the middle-class kids at my private New England college. I lifted religiously, I pretended to hook up with girls at our fraternity's parties. All the while I got my dick sucked surreptitiously at a gloryhole I discovered.

My life changed my senior year, three weeks before graduation. I got the guts to go on Grindr and I hooked up with a guy. Taller than me at 6'3", older than me at 32, and more built than me. He was a gay dude, a real one, not a closeted guy, and in some messed up way I looked down on that. But he was my physical type to a T. Big, masculine, and big dicked. Mike was his name. He sweet talked me into giving up my cherry.

I expected it to hurt a little. I didn't expect that I'd go wild. Mike and his hard dick and his physical power worked me to the craziest orgasm of my life.

"You OK?" he asked as we uncoupled in the afterglow.

"Yeah," I said, "That was incredible." I could barely looked at him, because I was afraid I'd fall in love with him. Instead, I asked to shower off and after I quickly got dressed and out of there.

I actually cried that night, then realized I was being stupid. I texted Mike to see if we could meet up again before I graduated.

***

I moved to the big city, where a few of my fraternity brothers were moving. We shared a place, the three of us, a boring quasi-suburban apartment. We worked a lot, starter job hours. We went out on the weekend. My buddies sometimes scored and brought chicks back to the place. I pretended to be too picky for that.

I got on Grindr again and got my dick sucked. It was nice, and took the edge off.

I don't how or why, but after Thanksgiving I got the guts to join a gay hockey team. I loved the game and while I could have joined a regular rec league team, I needed a change. When I showed up for my first practice, it was like I was home. Dudes like me. D1 players who came out after college. Masculine but more at home with themselves. Not afraid to be catty or fun. At least some of them. There were the regular, quiet dudes, too.

Maybe I went for the strong, silent type because three weeks in, I was flirting with Kevin Mulvaney, a defenseman who wasn't a star player or anything. He wasn't even the most handsome guy of the bunch. But he was big and beefy and ginger, with a trimmed beard. I'd learn he was kind of a dick and a player when it came to guys, but I got along well with him.

Kevin lived in a house with three other guys, two of which were on the team. It was a de facto team house for meetings or occasional parties. I thought of it as the Frat House, in fondness. The kind of experience I wish my college had been.

Kevin was the oldest at 38. I told myself I didn't go for older guys, but there was something about his magnetism that drew me to him. It was one of those weekend parties with the guys on the team and a couple of guys that one of the housemates, Alex, knew. All gay, all bros. I was in heaven.

Kevin and I ended up alone in a side den area. We talked about our jobs, where we were from, and all that small talk. Our eyes were having a different conversation. Finally Kev shook his head and laughed.

"You're cute as fuck, you know."

"Yeah, I know," I said, more flirty than cocky. I didn't really have any game when it came to guys. But I was a good looking, athletic young dude. Even as green as I was, I knew that my type was in demand.

"You got a boyfriend?" he asked.

I shook my head. "No boyfriend," I said. "Still figuring stuff out."

"Fun phase," he said.

"You got a boyfriend?" I asked in return. I was pretty sure he didn't, but wanted to see.

He shook his head. "I like to play the field." His eyes were on mine, challenging me. The sexual spark was immediate. Kevin Mulvaney and I were gonna have sex.

Only the man threw me a curveball. He leaned back, his beefy body looking pretty magnificent in his T-shirt. I don't even know that he was intending the manspreading but as a defenseman, his legs were fucking solid and sexy as hell. "I'm a total top... just throwing that out there."

"Oh," I said. It's not that I even expected to tap Kev's ass. More that I would have been happy with some mutual oral or JO or something.

The man knew he had me on the line, caught between my green inexperience and my clear lust. He stood up and patted my shoulder. "I'll be in my room... third on the right as you go back... if you want."

I watched him walk away. His front has that beefy padding, just a little, but his back and ass and legs were hard as rock. It was almost like watching an ex-pro hockey jock. I sipped my beer. I made my way to the kitchen, where I made small talk with Greg, who didn't live in the Frat House but was a on the team, a forward like me.

Even as I chatted with Greg and talked about the professional hockey teams we followed, I debated whether I should cave in to Mulvaney. I didn't like thinking of myself as a dude who took cock. And Kevin was just the kind of man who both attracted me and scared me. More experienced, more take charge, more sure of himself.

I told Greg I was gonna take a piss and maybe leave in a bit.

I was nervous the whole walk down the hall. But the bathroom really was at the end in case I came across someone. If I had, I probably wouldn't have entered Kevin's room.

But the coast was clear, so I walked to the third door and gave a quiet knock before opening the door and slipping inside.

Kevin was stripped down and in his bed. He was naked and hard, phone in one hand, cock in the other. God, naked his bulk was even more incredible. Lots of chest and body fur perfectly trimmed. Nice heavy cock and balls. If I had to pick a best feature it was that massive chest, round pecs and thick pink nipples beneath the coppery fur.

He looked up from the porn he was watching and grinned. "Hey," he said. "I almost didn't wait."

"I can..." I said dumbly. Like I'd interrupted something I shouldn't have. When it was clear why I was here.

Kevin laughed. "You shy, Powers?" It was almost teasing, taunting even, but from Kevin I took it as genuine concern.

"A little," I laughed. "I don't have much experience."

I expected some alpha kind of comeback, but instead he had a look of sympathy. "It's OK, dude.... it'll be fun. Promise." He set down his phone and again I couldn't take my eyes off his big body, or his cock. "There's enemas in the bathroom there if you wanna prepare."

Kevin had the master bedroom with the attached bath, and I'd eventually learn he paid more rent for that privilege. Only now I stared like a deer in the headlights.

"Come on, bro," Kevin hissed. Not pissy, but really horny. "I'm so worked up right now."

I decided to go for it. Maybe if Kevin could give me an orgasm like no-last-name Mike did nine months ago, it would be worth it. I still thought of those times and jacked off to them.

I did the stuff and washed up with a cloth set up in folded pile next to the sink. I was stripped down entirely and took a second to admire my physique in the mirror. I had a very fit hockey jock body, 5'8" and 170 pounds. Cute face, great ass, mostly smooth bod with just the right amount of hair for a man of 23. I was confident in my looks. "Here goes," I said to myself.

The look on Kevin's face did give me a thrill. "Wow, Powers. Fuck." He let go of his cock and I watched it bounce in full excitement. "So fucking glad I didn't nut just now."

"What were you watching?" I asked in a playful way.

Kev laughed. He had a deep voice which made his laugh sexier. "I'll show you later, OK? Come here..." He scooted to the side and patted the mattress.

I got in and felt goosebumps on my body as his hands touched me. Some of it was Kev's magnetism, but truth told, the deeper physical contact with another man, any man, was well overdue.

"Just so you know, Brian," he said. "I'm looking to date or anything."

"That's cool," I said. "I'm not either."

We kissed. Up close, holding him, 6'3" and I was guessing 230 pounds felt a lot more imposing and a lot more exciting. My dick was crazy hard as we made out and I felt his physicality against my leaner, fitter bod.

We started slow, caressing and kissing and grinding against one another. Soon, though, Kevin's strong hands were pawing at me, especially my round hockey-player ass.

"I'm on PReP," he said. "And get tested. I'm good to go."

I about objected I wasn't sure I wanted to bareback. Mike had wrapped up when he'd taken my cherry. But Kevin was already getting down and lifting my legs, leaning in to rim me. "Such a hot fucking hole, man."

No Last Name Mike hadn't eaten me out. I now wish he had. Kev's tongue tickled at first then felt amazing. In the back of my mind I told myself not to let go, not to bitch out for Kevin Mulvaney. I worried he'd tell the other guys on the team.

But the deep rimming transitioned seamlessly to fingering. Kev's thick lube fingers easing in and out. All while he watched my face for the reaction and winked in reassurance. The man knew what he was doing.

By the time he put my legs on his strong shoulders and lined up his cock, I wanted it. The entry was actually easier than with Mike. Kev was super patient and gently rocked back and forth so that his prick tip opened me up.

"FUCK!" I hissed when he finally broke through. It was that familiar mix of feelings. A smidge of discomfort but also a pleasant fullness. And as Kevin's thick cock rode over my prostate I felt my own pleasure there. Achy and dull and intense pleasure all at once.

The man grinned down at me and started thrusting in and out. "You good, bro?" he asked.

I nodded. "Jesus... yeah."

He worked up the pace. I loved it, and I felt ashamed that the guy could see that I loved it.

Kev was almost clairvoyant. "Just let it go, man. Enjoy this."

I was, and even more as his thrusts got deeper. It was then that I realized I had Mulvaney's raw cock inside me. For some reason that thrilled me, the idea he might cum in me. I gripped my dick and stroked.

"Yeah," he encouraged. "Go for it."

I looked up and saw that big meaty chest and those broad defenseman shoulders leaning down on me as he now long dicked me, my hole now fully relaxed for him. "I won't be able to last long, Powers.... too worked up."

"Fuck me," I finally hissed, and that admission had my guts doing a spasmic clenching dance on Kev's pistoning cock. The guy was fucking the cum right out of me. Each spurt jetted out in sync with his cock thrust, spray on on my chest.

"Fuck!" I heard and watched Mulvaney's gruff face clench in orgasm. He turned beet red as he came. It was hot to watch.

He pulled out finally and I felt some regret as I felt the cummy cool wetness of my newly fucked hole. Particularly as the guy got off the bed wordlessly and went into the bathroom to piss.

I lay there and tried to recover. I'd made a mistake, but I had to admit the sex was great. And when Kev stepped back out, he tossed a warm, wet washcloth to me. "Here, bro... and thanks. You're a hot bottom, man."

I blushed. I'd never labeled myself, and I sure as fuck wasn't embracing that label. I wiped down and got the energy to lean up. "I don't really consider myself a bottom," I said. "But I'll admit, you're a great top."

He smiled. Not cocky this time, just grateful. I took a look at that heavy prick hanging low now. It had been in me, raw.

"You get tested, you say?" I asked.

"Regularly. Scouts honor," he replied. He reached forward and patted my cheek. "You should get on PReP, bro. For real."

"Yeah," I agreed.

He took a sip of water from the glass he had on the nightstand. He didn't have a porn body, but it was strong, a real ex-jock's build. In the lamplight the coppery fur and pale muscle stood out even more. I loved it.

"You can stay over if you like, Brian," he finally said.

I shook my head. "I'll go, actually," I said. I was still weirded out. By bottoming once more and by crossing a line with a teammate. In my head these dudes were exactly the kind of guys I'd love to date, but now that I was friends with them, I felt self-conscious. It wasn't accident that Kevin was not the type I imagined as a boyfriend. Too old, too gruff.

"Yeah, have a good one," he said as he watched me get dressed. "And thanks... that was hot." As I got ready to leave, he leaned in for a kiss. Kevin was a great kisser.

I'd hoped to make a clean exit. It was late and I was sure the party was over. But as I was slipping out of Mulvaney's room, I saw Zach walking down the hall.

Zach lived in the Frat House. He was a goalie, hot as hell, brown haired, with puppy dog brown eyes, and dimples that seemed like a mismatch with his muscle bod. Zach dated older guys, though, daddies, and was boyfriends with Daniel, a 40-something guy on the team.

Now, as I passed him, Zach had a knowing grin. "Hey Brian."

"Hey," I said. "See you on Wednesday?" I asked. Practice day.

"Yep. See you then."

I got out to the street, bundled in clothes that weren't quite warm enough while I waited for my Uber. "Fuck!" I said aloud.

****

The guys on the team teased me a lot. Fresh meat. Chicken. I didn't even know what half the shit they said meant. But I got the gist. I was still way uncomfortable with some gay innuendo.

It got worse after I hooked up with Kevin. With a group of gay guys, it turns out gossip travels real fast.

Daniel and another one of the older guys stepped when the teasing got too much.

And pretty soon, they realized I was a really good forward. And I realized that my playing did the speaking for me. By the second month of the season, I was clearly the star of the team and the guys stopped teasing me.

I became good friends with Zach. At first I was pissed at him talking about me to the guys, then realized I'd probably have done the same thing. That shit just happens.

One night as the team went out for drinks after a game, Zach and I had our first deep conversation. We'd been having a talk about which gyms we went to. Zach was thinking of switching to mine, which was cheaper than the sports club he went to. Then he paused and dropped the bomb.

"So... you and Kevin a thing?"

"Nah man. It just happened, OK?"

He looked at me sympathetically. "Open to some advice, Brian?" he asked

"Sure," I said. Maybe because he was close to my age at 25, I felt he'd talk to me without being condescending.

"Don't be afraid to go for what you want, man," he said. "I mean, I'm into daddies and dudes give me shit all the time. But I'm with the man I'm meant to be with." He patted my shoulder. "Just be yourself, Bri."

I took that in. "I'm not sure what self I need to be."

Zach laughed. I loved how he could be serious and real, but not let shit bother him. "Then enjoy figuring that out."

"I guess," I said.

He got a sly look on his face. "Can I tell you about my first, dude? It was my fucking high school coach."

"For real?" I said. I wasn't a daddy chaser, but for a lot of jocks, there was something about a coach that loomed large in our sexual fantasies.

He nodded, clearly proud. "Holy grail, right? It was after I graduated. Dude's married and very much the kind of guy I shouldn't have been involved with." He shrugged. "But I learned from it, and learned that there were better guys out there than Coach Connelly."

I loved that perspective but couldn't help but asking. "But it was hot, right?"

Zach laughed. He had a killer smile. "Yeah. I mean, the sex was lousy, but mentally, it was Coach, you know?" He looked at me. "You ever bone for one of your coaches, Brian?"

I nodded. "Not high school. But the assistant coach in college... I still think about him. He wasn't much older, though."

I thought it over. Zach was right. Maybe I should get out there more. Stop having hangups for liking dick. Easier said than done. I hadn't done a thing other than JO since hooking up with Kevin.

Well, I'd done one thing. I now had a PReP prescription and was taking it regularly. I did't trust my self control.

****

I broke the dry spell the week after. It was weird to think I was almost 24 before I fucked a dude. It was fun, some guy off Grindr. But something was missing. Maybe I wanted a guy who was a friend as well as a hot fuck. I wanted the impossible.

I hooked up with another guy on the team. Drew. 48yo finance guy. He didn't hang around the Frat House or go to the parties, but liked to meet for after-game drinks. Maybe I turned my nose down at older guys and felt they were leches. Drew responded to that energy with his own standoffishness until we broke the ice. I found he and Zach had dated when Zach first moved to the city, but Drew generally stuck with guys closer to his age for anything serious.

Now, the sparks were there, and I was horny. Drew wasn't a big dude like I often went for but he was tall and handsome. Total DILF. I went with it and went back to his place.

It was oral, mutual. Turns it out it was my first time really doing my best to suck dick. Drew actually coached me some and we took turns, the man going down on me, kind of edging me by pulling off when I got too close. I loved it. The man and I made out and had marathon sex. Three fucking glorious hours of being with another man. I came buckets. And when I went down on Drew's five and a halfer for the finale, he blasted off so much I hard a hard time swallowing it all. We kissed and snowballed his load. Another first.

And for the first time I stayed over in another man's bed.

He made me coffee and breakfast the next morning. Looking like a million bucks in pyjama pants and his college T-shirt. We chatted and talked about the Saturday we had planned. It was clear this wasn't a romantic situation, and that put me at ease.

Finally, as he put away the dishes, Drew seemed to have something on his mind. "OK if I give some unsolicited advice, Brian? Kevin's a total fucking player, so be careful."

I felt pissy. "Dude, I fucking know. Jesus. Does the whole team know my business."

That made Drew laugh. "Fraid so, yeah. Don't worry, I'll keep discreet about last night. Though maybe some of the guys saw us leave together, who knows?"

I shrugged. "Fuck em." I looked Drew up and down. Wondering if he was a future me. Hockey jock now a career dude, but still not wanting to outgrow his 20s completely.

"What?" he asked. "I guess I said the wrong thing. I just... well, I've seen it play out."

I'd have to find out what he meant at some point. But I answered directly. "Dude, I'm not dating Kevin. It was just a one-time thing."

****

That same day, I told my roommates. I wasn't gonna make a big production out of coming out, and I tried to be off handed about it. Yeah, that didn't work. Tyler gave me a bro hug and told me I was his bud, still. But it was weird between us after that. Just not the same.

I almost preferred Jason's cold shoulder and silent treatment. At least I knew where I stood.

I wasn't gonna unload on my new gay friends, but after the next hockey game, we went out for beers and as I talked to Charlie, one of the guys who lived in the Frat House, it all came out.

"Fuck, man," he said. "That's real fucking shitty." I almost regretted seeing that smile go away, he was just so attractive with it. Yeah, I guess the problem of gay friends is the sexual attraction and tension.

"Yeah," I said. "I gotta get a new living situation, soon."

He took a sip from his pint and shrugged. "You should move in with us, Brian," he said. As he talked the wheels seemed to click. "Zach's moving in with Dan, and we'll need another housemate."

My face lit up. This was fate or kismet or something. Still, I thought of Kevin.

So I cornered him 15 minutes later and brought up Charlie's suggestion.

"You should, Bri. Your roommates are assholes," he said.

"But what about us?" I whispered.

"What about us?" he countered, then his eyes fixed on me. "Dude, you're not getting weird on me are you? Fuck!"

"No, man, I'm not getting weird. I just... maybe we should keep things platonic."

"Your choice," he grinned. "But..." leaning down he whispered. "We both know you like my cock too much." Jesus, why did I have to be attracted to guys like him? But Kevin was right.

****

The Frat House had an interview night. Kevin. Drop-dead gorgeous Charlie, another defenseman from the team. And Alex, who'd actually gone to Penn State with Charlie but was a former football player, a second-stringer punter.

I kind of think they were just razzing me, but also I guess they didn't know me well. By the end of an hour it was clear I was going to be moving in. They went over the rent and the house rule. Clean up duty, trash days, that kind of thing. And ground rules about parties on the weekend only, no loud TV or music after 10 otherwise. And yeah, there would be guys over, Grindr hookups or whatever, so be cool.

I was cool. And grateful as hell. I didn't even mind losing a month's rent to my asshole buddies. It gained an instant circle of close friends, yet we also kept our distance and gave privacy when needed. Zach, the one moving out, was now my closest friend on the team, but my new housemates and I all bonded in our own way. Charlie and I would sometimes eat dinner together or watch TV if one of us didn't have other plans. Charlie had a muscle pup boyfriend but they tended to see each other on the weekends.

I didn't see Alex as much. He was dating a twunk named Steven. I gathered twunks were his type. But I frickin' loved talking to the guy. He was an olive-complected Italian-Latino guy who talked in a thick North Jersey accent and could talk your ear off, but I ate it all up.

Kevin and I had secret sex a couple of times, till I started avoiding situations that would make him think I was interested. It helped that my work hours were long. And usually I'd meet Zach at the gym for an after-work workout session. I had a better body than him so he wanted the inspiration, and I enjoyed having a lifting buddy.

I'll credit Zach for his encouragement to start dating, for real. I got my first boyfriend. Connor. Not a serious relationship, but more than a hookup. He was my age and in my field. We met a gay professional networking thing and it clicked. Even if he'd done swimming in college, he wasn't a jock in the same way and REALLY was into what I had going on. And something clicked in me, I decided to lean into dating someone who wasn't exactly like me. Connor was cute, dirty blond movie star cute, and had a nice gym toned body. Total bottom and I learned to be the top he wanted to be. At least I thought I did. The one exception, sort of, was I loved sucking Connor's dick. It was long, an inch and a half longer than mine. And I was getting pretty good at it.

The only annoying thing was the bad timing. When I first started dating Connor, it was Stanley Cup finals, which was kind of high holidays in the Frat House. And Connor knew fuck all about hockey. He was a good sport, and I felt bad for getting annoyed when he asked questions. The guys in the house razzed me.

"Powers, if you want a boyfriend, you gotta chill," Alex said when Connor went for a bathroom break. Maybe because he wasn't a hockey jock, he was pretty chill about the games to begin with. But he was right.

In all, it was a great summer. Some of the team went on vacation together, renting a beach house together. I was too broke and didn't have enough vacation time saved up. The guys in the house spent a lot of time hanging out, us and our boyfriends. All of us except Kevin were dating, and even Kevin had regular luck with hookups. I was grateful our fling was behind us.

But there was definitely sexual tension. I mean, I was young and horny and living with a bunch of hot guys. They were my buds, but I was attracted to all three of them. Personality-wise, Alex was my favorite, since he treated me like a regular bro, a buddy. Physically, Charlie was incredible, a 6'5" Canadian defenseman with sea blue eyes and a pearly smile. HUGE arms, kind of out of proportion, even, to the rest of his muscled body. I think he pumped those up just for the visual effect.

And there was Kevin's raw animal magnetism. Dude had a revolving door of hot guys in and out that summer, and I could now see why.

Just at the end of summer, Connor broke up with me. "You're incredible, Brian, but there's something missing. You feel it, right?"

I did. I really liked Connor and LOVED having a boyfriend. But I wasn't in love with the guy, not even in an infatuation kind of way. What sucked is that I'm pretty sure he felt that way about me.

I licked my wounds a little, but it would be OK.

Charlie was next. Things weren't going well with the muscle pup. At least not well enough.

Maybe it was the elephant in the room, but the Sunday night of Labor Day, we were hanging around, drinking or doing edibles or whatever, and the guy talk got saucier. It came out that Kevin wasn't the only total top in the house - all the guys were.

Kevin shared that his last trick was into bondage. "Bro, that's some weird shit," he said, with a smile that said he enjoyed it, at least some.

Charlie admitted that muscle pup had started an Only Fans and that weirded him out.

Alex said he almost talked his boyfriend Steven into a DP. "I was this fucking close," he laughed as he held up two fingers a millimeter apart.

"Bucket list, right?" Charlie grinned, manspreading in his seat. I could tell from his eyes and relaxed grin that he was feeling the edible pretty well.

"It's the best guys," Kevin chimed in.

"You done one, Mulvaney?" Alex asked, incredulous.

"Three times," Kevin bragged. He looked at me pointedly, I think to get under my skin. It was kind of annoying.

I chimed in about Connor. I didn't want to share anything too personal about the guy, since I still considered him a friend, but I admitted that yeah, I loved playing into the whole jock-top thing.

"Dude, you're a big ol' bottom," Kevin chimed in.

"Am not," I objected. Pissed off. The guys all knew about me and Kev and they could put two and two together. "Just because I've tried it."

Kevin smirked and shrugged.

Alex laughed too. He got up and reached down to squeeze my shoulder. Playful, flirty. "Don't let that dickhead get to you, Bri. Another beer?"

I told myself I'd be moderating in my cutting phase lately. "Sure," I said, though.

Charlie was starting to feel his edible and called it a night. Our conversation went more normal as I sat between Kevin's and Alex's big bodies. Kevin tall and beefy, Alex even close to my height but totally jacked.

Fuck, as we sat there, I felt like a prey between two circling wolves. The conversation was normal but the eye contact was intense. At one point, Alex put his arm around me, I felt his heat and strength as he grinned and leaned in.

There, right in front of Kevin, me and my other housemate were making out. Until Alex pulled back.

"Damn. I better not get into any trouble tonight," he hissed. I had a feeling he was talking about Steven, and I guessed they didn't have an open relationship. Alex looked over to Kev. "You guys have fun, all right?"

Now it was Kevin's turn to slide over and place his arm around my shoulder, looking up at Alex who was standing up from the couch. I could see the ridge of cock in Alex's shorts and had a shiver. The dude was hung LONG for a guy his height.

"Will do, bro," Kevin said.

Once Alex had left, Kevin started turning to make the moves on me, but I placed my hand on the plate of his chest muscle to stop him.

"What the fuck is going on?" I asked. "Why did you mention I'd bottomed?"

"Dude, it would have come out anyway. Hot as you are and horny as you are."

I slid back. "Don't I get a say in this?"

Kev gave me a sly look. "Course, Bri. You're not gonna do anything you don't wanna."

"Cocky shit," I said with a laugh.

"All right, I'll cut it out," Kevin conceded. "And I'll tell the other guys to back off if you want."

I was wrapping my head around all this. "So... they're gunning for me." I felt set up. Or at least naive.

His eyes swept up and down. "Brian Powers... you know how hot you are, right?"

I blushed. But yeah, I did. And it was good to hear this douchebag admit it. "So, like, Charlie's into me, too?"

Kevin grinned. He could actually look handsome when he smiled. He pulled out his wallet and fished out two twenties. Setting them on the coffee table he said coldly. "There's a cool forty. If you go to his room now and he doesn't fuck you the bet's yours."

"Charlie's stoned as fuck," I replied.

"Doesn't matter. If he's too stoned to fuck you, that forty's still yours."

"How do you know I'd want him to?" I asked.

He picked up the bills. But didn't put them away. "So Powers... maybe I should ask. You want him to fuck you?"

I did. But I felt put on the spot. And I knew Kevin was goading me. "You fucking asshole," I hissed. This was probably the one and only time I truly meant it.

It was ten minutes later when I heard a knock at the door. Kevin peeked his head in. "Sorry man. I'll make it up to you. Promise."

"Yeah?" I asked.

He nodded. "Dinner's on me some time. And next time I play wingman, I'll let you pick."

That caught me off guard. I sat up in my bed, shirtless and enjoying the way Kev's eyes swept over my gym-toned jock body. I actually sensed there was a sincerity in addition to the game playing. "What's Matt Reynolds' deal?" Matt was on our team. Another forward, he was cute as fuck. I had the hots for him, but maybe I picked him because he was the opposite type from Kevin.

"Vers," Kev said with a smile. "Seeing a new guy, but I can feel him out."

"Cool," I said.

Kevin paused at my door. "Well..." he said.

"Come on in," I said. "Shut the door behind you."

He got a playful grin as he stepped in and started peeling off my shirt. Already I'd shucked my boxer briefs and was reaching for the lube.

****

It was four nights later when Charlie made his move. We were chilling in the living room. Alex had a date, and Kevin had a "date." I thought I'd be jealous of Kevin sleeping around, but I was relieved. The sexual chemistry was there, and deep down between the a-hole game both of us played there was real friendship. But nothing else, nothing romantic.

"So, Brian..." Charlie said. "Feel like helping a guy out?"

"Kev told you," I sighed.

"Just us, don't worry."

I looked at him with a quiet, flirty gaze. "What kind of help you need, man?"

He nodded down at his shorts. All tented up. Then he looked up at me with those sea blue eyes. "A blow job would be incredible, Brian."

I nodded and it was amazing how easy it was. Me getting on the living room floor between Charlie's built legs. Him pulling down his shorts. I don't know why I was surprised to see him go commando. But it was beautiful, beautiful cock, beautiful balls. Charlie Kenner was huge, maybe a true 9 incher and fat. This was going to be a challenge. I licked his nuts and the base of the shaft.

"Brian Powers... shit!" he hissed.

His attraction to me fueled my lust. I took him into my mouth. Just the tip, working it and wetting down. Then I did my best to take more of him. I wasn't experienced, not yet, but I was eager and I got about five inches down before I hit my limits. That was enough for Charlie.

"Oh, God, that's great. Suck me, man."

I felt his strong hand rest on me. Not pushing me but even the reminder was hot as I bobbed up and down.

"Shit, I'm gonna cum... Keep it up, man... yeah like that... oh fuck, OH FUCK!"

I nursed the dribbles and gave the head a kiss when I pulled off. I was proud as fuck.

Especially seeing that gorgeous smile as he pulled up his shorts and tucked back in. "You're the best, Powers. Fuck."

Just then we heard the front door open and I scrambled back into place on my side of the couch, trying to hide my boner.

It was Kevin back from his hookup. He wasn't in the mood for small talk, but he said hello. And when he left, Charlie looked over and gave me a wink.

****

It was against the bro code. But I sucked Charlie more often. He wasn't dickish like Kev, he seemed grateful. And we'd talk as friends after. Serious stuff, not just hockey and lifting and beer and small talk.

One night I asked him if he was interested in me for dating. He patted my leg. "Sorry, Bri... just bros, is that OK? We can stop, you know..." For a 6'5" ex-jock Charlie could be sweetly shy talking about sex sometimes.

"Nah, I'm good," I said. "Sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry about, Powers."

We stopped for a while. It helped when the team's season started up again. Practices, new faces, a different bar for our official hang out place. I enjoyed no longer being the newbie. I was still the team star, with Charlie and Zach a close second. I flirted with guys and had sex with one. Nothing serious.

I made the mistake of meeting up with my old college buddy. Tyler. He was doing well, I was doing well. He was going to propose to his girlfriend. I congratulated him. Tyler didn't ask me if I was dating anyone. "Good seeing you, Brian," he said as we stood awkwardly in front of the downtown bar afterwards as we got ready to go our separate ways.

"Yeah," I said back.

I was feeling emotional and down. I stopped in another bar on the way home. Had too many drinks. But I was more buzzed than drunk when I got home. Charlie was in the kitchen drinking his creatine and water.

"Hey Powers," he greeted.

"Hey Charlie," I said. "What's up?"

Those sea blue eyes looked back at me. "Grindr date just flaked out on me."

"Stupid fucker," I said. My guard was down for sure.

He laughed.

"Seriously, Charlie, that guy needs his head examined. You're hot as fuck."

His expression turned more serious, more sexual. "You're drunk, Bri."

"Just a little buzzed," I said.

Charlie stepped up, kind of seductively, and wrapped his strong arm around my lower back. He was 9 inches taller than me and when he pulled me toward him, I grew rock hard.

"I'm looking for more than a blowjob tonight, Powers," he hissed.

I nodded, unable to form the words or even say OK.

The kiss was heavy. Charlie didn't have finesse but he didn't need it. He was the hunky defenseman who was gonna fuck me. His tongue slipped into my mouth and I accepted it, while my hands reached up to feel his hulky muscle underneath his polo shirt.

"Let's go to the bedroom," he hissed as he pulled back.

"I can get prepped," I said. If I was gonna douche for Kevin Mulvaney I sure as hell was gonna do the same for Charlie.

That made him grin.

There was a communal bathroom stocked with enemas, I should know cause Connor had used it before. Now I was the one getting ready to bottom. So far it had only been No Last Name Mike (3 times) and Kevin (5 times). I was apprehensive about Charlie just because that dong was so fucking thick and big. But everything about the guy pushed my buttons big time. I had to try this.

The guy's MO was the opposite of Kevin's. Fun going, smiling the whole time, licking my dick and balls before rimming me. But the prep was just as skilled. He was more vocal, asking me to tell him what felt good, and urging me to relax in his deep mellow voice.

In between fingering sessions, I got to feel up all that muscle. Charlie wasn't furry like Kevin but had some blondish chest hair that extended over his stomach. And he was hard bodied, not beefy like Kev. He seemed to enjoy me feeling up all that muscle even as he complimented me.

"You got an incredible body, Bri... so fucking nice."

"Thanks," I grinned back and we kissed. That kiss turned into an embrace, which turned into those 240 pounds rolling on top of me. Before I knew I was getting fucked. Slowly entered as Charlie leaned up and looked at me with those blue eyes. "Easy, bro... you got this. You feel so fucking good on my cock... just a little more."

He popped in. I waited for the pain. There was none. Alcohol plus a crazy sexual attraction for Charlie had me putting out for him in the biggest way. He got a huge smile and nodded. Apparently my hole was feeling great for him. He sawed more in, working deeper, opening me. Finally he bottomed out.

"I gotta thank that Grindr dude for flaking on me," he said, looking at me with a powerful sexual intensity.

"I'll thank him first," I said. This wasn't me being slutty or being Charlie's bitch, this was me enjoying gay sex with a really hot dude.

He pulled back. The reentry wasn't hard but it was deliberate and deep. Then again. This ex-jock was fucking me for real. It wasn't just the dick size. It was the angle and the motion of his hips. And Charlie's massive body on top of mine, that gorgeous face looking masculine as fuck as he drilled me. My prostate was electric, sparking sexual sensations I'd never felt. My butt nut ached, then I felt it in my balls and back at my prostate, sexual pleasure intense like I'd never felt. And each hard thrust just amped it up, exponentially.

"FUCK!" I cried, whimpering. Already my dick was cumming. Maybe spurting precum but thick white precum that was a sign I was gonna be fucked off hands free.

"Get it, Bri," he grinned, through more of his weight and power into me.

I went wild. I gripped my boner, slick with the early seepage and gave it urgent strokes. My whole body contorted and went hot and I fired out so much cum I lost track.

"Yes," Charlie growled, and I could sense his fuckthrusts get out of rhythm as he came inside me.

"WOW!" I said as I came down. Charlie had slid out of me carefully but his dong was still big and heavy and wet as he lay next to me. "What the fuck was that?" I sighed.

Charlie turned toward me. "What the fuck was what?"

I was regaining circulation in my legs and my breathing was coming back to normal. "I've never cum like that," I said. "I never knew you could cum like that."

He chuckled. "You just did, bro." He looked at me, more concerned. "We cool?"

"Yes," I assured him. "We're definitely cool. Thank you."

I got the energy to get out of bed and find my clothes. I'd have to wash up later. I barely had the energy to walk.

Still my eyes couldn't help but taken in the man's beautiful muscled body. A porn body with a porn cock.

His gaze was eating me up, too. "We can go for seconds if you like," he offered. "It takes me about a half hour to recover though."

I shook my head. "I don't think that would be a good idea."

He laughed. "All right. I'm feeling pretty damn satisfied. You're a great bottom, Brian."

It was the second time anyone had said that to me. This time, I just replied. "Thanks, man."

****

I woke up early the next morning. It was a work day, and I figured rather than lie in bed I'd get to the gym.

It was a good workout. I had a lot of aggression to work out. I enjoyed seeing my body in the mirror. I was still a hot ex-jock, and I was proud of fuck for how in shape I kept myself. So what if I liked dick?

I thought of the conversation I'd have with Charlie later, about how it was a mistake.

Only as I reracked the weights, I realized it wasn't a mistake. It was meant to happen. Charlie just showed me what turned me on sexually. I was mad at myself for being wired that way, but I knew I wanted it again, would want it again, if not with Charlie, than with some other top who could make me feel 10 percent of what Charlie Kenner made me feel last night.

I didn't see him that evening. Or the next. He was avoiding me, I think. Unlike Kevin, Charlie didn't enjoy the game playing. He'd just gotten horny.

I finally texted him. "Listen, it's cool," I wrote. "It was fun, that's all."

"Yeah, OK," was his reply.

An hour later, he knocked at me door. "Got a minute?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said.

He came in and shut the door. "I guess I crossed a line."

"I'm glad," I said. The prepared speech went out the window. "That was the hottest fuckin sex of my life, Kenner," I said.

"Oh." I couldn't have been the first person who had that response to Charlie, but he didn't seem to expect it from me.

"I know we're not boyfriends, but if you ever wanna again, I'll put out for you."

He grinned. "Be careful what you're offering Powers."

"I'm serious, bro," I said. "If you want me to go douche right now I'll fuckin do it."

It was sinking in. And turning him on. "Right now?" he asked, still not sure I was on the level.

"Right now. Just give the sign."

He seemed to be battling something. The bro code, maybe. "What happened to the Brian Powers I knew?" he joked.

I laughed back but just replied. "You fucked the old Brian out of existence the other night."

"That good, huh?"

I nodded. "That good."

"All right," he finally said, grinning big. "Go get ready. And meet me in my room."

I stood up, already chubbing. "Fuck yes."

He paused before opening my door. "The other guys are probably gonna know. Or find out."

"I don't care," I said.

(to be cont.)

[hmmmhmmhm-deactivated20191105]

[fathernature83]

You’d been photographing Josh all day, he was a beautiful lean former baseball player out of south Dakota.

His 8 pack abs were like something chiseled from Greek statue, every muscle firmly developed, especially his glutes and thighs. His green eyes always made you look away from him as you felt they pierced you and knew you were attracted to him.

As you took the last shots of him at the pool he posed on all 4’s so you could capture the muscles in his back. His beautiful meaty cheeks looked fuller today as you captured the small of his back.

“Oh, awww fuck my…..oh God ”

Josh squirted out a clear sticky liquid from his hole as he struggled to control the spasms. The viscous fluid lay in puddle by the pool as its aroma wafted through the air.

“Josh its okay, I got plenty of shots. Just lie on your stomach and breathe ”

Josh laid down as his plump ass flexed, the spasms were new to mankind. The boys who got them usually had them once a month. It started with mood swings, water retention in the hips, thighs and ass and rectal spasms of clear liquid. It wasn’t easy for these young men to accept what this meant, that they’d grown ovaries and now had eggs and their bodies were no ovulating just like women used to.

“Damn these spams are doing a number on my prostate, I can’t stop squirting. ”

Josh laid in a growing puddle of ooze, his hole twitching as he tried relax. He was fresh out of high school and his body clearly was very fertile. No doubt he could get pregnant on the first try and carry some handsome boys in his belly, the rumor was that young guys were the best to impregnate to reduce risk of birth defects and their youth enabled them to produce more offspring.

You imagined Josh carrying your child, that ripped belly growing with the life you put inside it. You envisioned his pecs growing heavy with milk, his thighs becoming tree trunks to aid in natural birth and how you both would take joy in raising your son.

Aa Josh rested his head on the pillow you knelt down and inhaled the aroma of his sweet pie hole, that was all it took….

You pulled the cheeks apart and got one look at his bright pink hole before your lapped up the sticky sap.

“Whoa what are you doing ?”

“Calm down, I heard this takes the edge off the spasms and I gotta say, you’re hole is hot and sweet like apple pie.”

You buried your face in a puckered hole, ravishing his hot flesh and sucking up the thick honey like goo that tasted so damn good. You pulled back to blow kisses on his hole, you circled your tongue around his anus, you licked up and down and you forced your tongue past the now dilated lips of his boy pussy. Your face was now covered in his ovulating juices, like a bear to honey you binge on his sap triggering squirt after squirt until his prostate is too sensitive.

“Dude stop, my prostate needs a break , fuck that feels good though”

You climb on top of him and kiss him from his lower back to the back of his neck. His body twitching till your lips come to his right ear.

“You are so fertile right now, I think more so than any other boy I’ve seen up to now. Can you feel your body telling you to let me in?”

Josh breathed hard as his lips quivered, his first cycle was tough and his intuition told him fighting it would just make it worse. He only did modeling for extra cash when he didn’t get a college baseball scholarship. With so few opportunities available he thought maybe carrying your baby would give him security.

“I’m only 18, I hadn’t…..oh shit….thought of having a baby so soon”

“I’m sure you realize, this is your new lot in life. Don’t you think its selfish to have such a fertile body and deprive a buff alpha male like me the chance at making hot little boys?”

“Well I wasn’t trying to sound sel…..oh damn your tongue feels good, but my abs though”

“You’re young enough for this to all snap back, you know how to workout. This bubble butt of yours could squeeze out a few sons for me and still get your figure back, although maybe with a little more junk in your trunk”

“Wait I wasn’t thinking about more than, ohhhhhhhhh god wait!!!!!”

Your 9 inch dick could not take it, while edging him it made the decision to slide into his dilated pussy and mark its territory. You rolled your head back as his hot rectum already lubed with juice sucked your manhood in as his prostate pulsated and tickled the mushroom head of your dick.

Almost on instinct he began pushing his ass up and down, learning the power an alpha top’s dick can give, but this is not just for fun, no this act has a purpose. The intent to create life and synergize two sets of superior DNA into one beautiful male heir that will embody physical strength, beauty and mental acuity. Father nature as they now call it has given you Josh as his gift and now you passionately breed his young fertile body as an act of conquest, dominance and lust.

You were so deep inside him, his body sending you into a high that was euphoric. Your thick thighs and hips pumping away at his lithe toned and slender body. His yelps and yells were but faint cries as your thrusts into him melted you both into one rhythmic unit of mating like wild animals.

His body was serving its purpose, your dick was learning every g spot inside him, breaking his man cervix and stretching him wide for what would be several years of him pushing out your sons thru his once virgin hole.

“Hey slow down, my ass can’t take much more. You’re making my prostate numb”

“Maybe this will help”

You pulled all the way out, the fresh air hitting his wide open hole,cool and refreshing. You then rammed back in as he screamed and you pulled him the hair up to your face deep kissing him while your giant paw of a hand held his little tight tummy.

“Don’t fight me Josh, this womb belongs to daddy now. You’re going to give me strong little boys for me to proud of, everyone is going to see for themselves I own you when your belly swells with my boys, your pecs enlarge with milk and you waddle trying to balance the life kicking inside you.”

“Oh daddy, I’ll do anything for you but please cum. My hole is gaping and your dick is growing inside me, oh fuck it hurts so good…..”

Indeed your dick had grown, how? You don’t know. Your 9 inch meat had swelled to 12 inches in length at least and thickened in girth about an inch, you now had a giant horse cock that almost impaled your new mother to be.

“Holy shit I’m huge! All right boy, one more time so daddy can seed you. Breathe deep.”

Josh took a deep breath as he felt his gaping hole stretch more to accommodate your new pipe, he was delirious by now and the exhaustion in his eyes even made you feel sympathy for him. As you felt your now grapefruit sized balls tense you gripped him tight by the chest and pulled him up. With two to three deep thrusts you growled as you exploded at least a gallon of potent baby batter into his body. His rectum channeling it to his eager egg and the excess leaking out onto your balls as they shrank from the release.

As the last drop left your body you both collapsed to the ground covered in baby batter, ovulating juices and sweat. Your still erect meat pulling out of his destroyed hole as he wept into your furry chest. You came down from the high and suddenly realized what you’d done.

“I know it hurt, don’t worry. Daddy will take care of you. I’m sorry I got carried away ”

“That’s not why I’m crying ”

“Then why?”

“Because now I realize this is what I needed, now I know my place to serve an alpha, to serve you…I will give you many boys.”

“Well many is ….”

“You now have an enormous dick now, It’s my job now as a bearer to secure its sperm and populate so there will be many sons ”

Well you always said you wanted to be a father, looks like you’ll be a founding father of a whole community 😉

[rawcumpissslut]

[reallymyanchor]

Mr Jones’ cock was so much thicker than I had expected. From his joyful sighs, I think I was tighter than he had been expecting too.

There’s something so hot about feeling another man stretch you out. I tried to regulate my breath and will my sphincters to relax, but despite my best efforts I could still feel them spasming against his cock.

My folks think I come over to his house every day to earn money by chopping his firewood. If they knew how much he was actually paying me, and what I wood I was actually handling, they’d have heart attacks.

It was towards the end of the winter months when I started to show: a cute little pouch developing under my belly button. It was so fucking hot, feeling my body change and adapt to carrying my first pregnancy. He liked it too: liked knowing that my pussy was full with his baby.

[pagespermer]

Charlie’s Smut Blog

An Appreciation

You guys know I’m all into Bill Drake and my bro, A4F101. And, there’s some other great porn blogs on Tumblr.

But, one of my all-time faves is Charlie’s Smut Blog.

I’m featuring him here in case I go offline again, like I did a few weeks back. He’s got a huge library of original jerk-tent (jerk-off content). So, if you can’t find something here to get you off, head on over to Charlie. He’ll make you shoot. I promise.

If you don’t want to read me wax poetic on his words, stop now and hit the link, above (or below). Otherwise …

I can’t tell you how many loads I’ve spermed over his stories. One of the reasons I love his shit so much is even if he’s writing about stuff I don’t get off on … I still get off. He’s that good..

Here’s some of the reasons I jive on his smut:

1. He gets right to it.

You all know sometimes I go on and on … and that’s usually intentional. But, it’s not always intentional. Which is why I love a LOT of his shit. When he puts up a new post, there’s usually hot sex in the first paragraphs. But, it’s never forced. He just gets his characters to business, which is fucking hot.

2.  He experiments

Right now he’s got the hottest, sweetest story going and I can tell - since I know his work - that while he’s playing with some of his dominant themes, he’s doing it in a whole new way. More than that, there is an underlying teen gentleness that’s just hot as hell. (And, I’m a sucker for a love story.)

3.  Even when he fails, he succeeds

Dad’s Proper Place is incredibly nasty. But, at the end he writes:

“When I started this story the hope was to create a top that was much more dominant and meaner than any character I had written before. My dominant guys tend to be a little soft, so I was trying something new. I didn’t really like it after a while and eventually came to despise the characters… . It was an experiment with some new themes (including the dad/son thing) that ended up not working for me.”

While I may not agree with this assessment, I’ve been there with my own stuff and appreciate that he tried something new (see Item 2) and recognized it didn’t work for him.

4.  He’s Getting Better

It’s a real pleasure to see him develop as a writer and creator over time. And, he’s fucking good already. I ALWAYS know I’m gonna get a load (or two, or three) when a new story posts.

5.  Big Bro’s Girlfriend

Quite possibly the hottest story I’ve read in some time. The initial fucking seduction is outrageously hot and nearly perfect. The older bro slowly but surely turning out his younger brother is about as good as it gets.

((()))

So, anyway, check him out. He’s on Nifty as Cosmic Charlie, but you can get all of his stuff right here:

http://cceroticstories.blogspot.com/

And, he’s got a seriously hot porn tumblr that you can find here:

http://charliessmut.tumblr.com/

Shoot well and prosper.