You and your boyfriend were both confused when his boss invited him on a weekend business trip away, as it apparently wasn't very common for people as low down in the company hierarchy as your boyfriend to be invited to go on business trips. You were worried that your boyfriend's boss had suspect motives in extending the invitation to your boyfriend, as your boyfriend had mentioned that his boss had hit on him in the past, even after he'd explained that he was already dating you. But your boyfriend had still felt he had to go for the sake of his future career prospects, so he'd left you at home with the promise that he'd send you regular updates about what they were getting up to throughout the weekend and what sites they'd seen around the city that they were going to.
Because of that earlier reassurance, w​hen your boyfriend hadn't contacted you on his first night away you'd started to be worried that something was up, but you'd tried to dismiss your own concerns by telling yourself that he'd probably just fallen asleep early after a long day of traveling. When he still didn't respond to your message or even your calls throughout much of the next day, you'd allowed your worry to grow so much that you decided to face time him to see if he'd at least answer that. Amazingly, after a few rings, he did.
Any relief you momentarily had from him answering the call was dashed as soon as his face popped up on screen, however, as there was a fat, dripping wet cock resting right against it. With you stunned silent at the sight, your boyfriend had the chance to start offering you an explanation. "Hi Honey, sorry I can't chat long, my boss is only giving me a short break, and I'll have to get back to deep throating him soon. Just to update you, we haven't left the hotel since we got here last night, and I've lost count of how many loads he's filled me with. It turns out this whole trip is just an excuse to see if I'll be a good fit to be his personal free-use hole and, considering how well he fits down my throat, I think I've got a decent shot. Oh! Looks like my break times up I'll-"
Anything further that ​your boyfriend might have been about to say was abruptly cut off as a hand grabbed him by the back of the head and shoved his mouth down onto the cock that had been lying across his face. The only sounds coming from your boyfriend after that were the wet gags and muffled moans that escaped from his mouth as it was used like a flesh light by his boss. He didn't hang up the call though, and you couldn't bring yourself to do so either, so you watched as he struggled to take the brutal pace and swallow it and then the load that was soon shooting out of it. Finally, his mouth dripping with cum and spit, your boyfriend was allowed to pull his face off of his boss's dripping meat long enough to bid you goodbye and to say he'd probably be back late next week before diving right back onto it just as the call was disconnected. Which at least meant he and his boss didn't see you shoot your own load in response.
You had finally found a potential boyfriend. You have been talking with him for a couple of weeks. It was going very well, and you agreed to go on a date.
He was very charming and after the date, you went back to his place since he lived alone. It was clear what both of your expectations were: you would be fucking tonight.
He was very understanding that it was your first time and that he should take it slow. You began kissing him and you felt a bump hardening in his pants. Quickly, clothes went flying to free everything.
It was already even better than you imagined. Both of you were so in sync, you were exploring each other's body with passion.
Suddenly, he lays you on your back and he spits in his hand. He reaches for your butt, where you feel his finger against your hole.
Strangely, his expression shifts a bit. His smile fades as he slides a finger inside you. Almost immediately, he slides in a second, then a third.
"Hey, what happened about taking it slow?", you said in a joking tone, but still confused by his behavior.
"Cut the crap", he said with a dry voice. "Your hole is so loose, it's like you've already been fucked today. You told me to go slow since you're a virgin, but I wouldn't even feel it if I put my dick in that black hole!"
You swear you're a virgin, but he calls you a liar and you both get dressed back up and you leave.
When you get home, your roommate immediately asks if he finally popped your cherry. You ignore him and get to your room while staring at the floor.
You think about what your date told you. Fucked today? That was literally impossible! You work from home and it was the only time you got out of your place in the last week. You've seen no other human in that week, other than your roommate.
Your roommate... Who is gay... Who you feel is always looking at your butt... Who never talked about his sex life but seemed interested in yours...
Are you getting paranoid? There was no way he could have done something to you, you would've felt it, right? You can't be fucked without knowing it, right?
That's when you thought back to when you first moved in with him. It was 4 years ago, but you remember how, for a full week, you woke up with a headache and your ass was killing you. You thought it was the stress of being on your own, and the pain eventually went away. But you realize your ass has never fully healed, it's like it stayed open all those years and you eventually forgot about it.
You feel crazy for even thinking it's possible, but you have to know without a doubt. You tape your phone to the ceiling fan and start recording. Your mind kept you from sleeping for some time, but next thing you know, you wake up.
It feels like a normal morning. You touch your asshole, it's as open as every day. You're about to dismiss that crazy idea you had yesterday, but you still rewatch the footage from last night, just to be extra sure.
You watch yourself sleeping on your belly. You fast forward, until there's some movement. What the hell? Your blanket is being pulled out of frame, revealing your naked body. Then, you see your naked roommate climbing over you, aiming his big glossy hard dick between your ass cheeks. His dick slides in without any resistance, and you only mumble and readjust your body.
You watch your roommate fucking you as if it was a movie you didn't know the plot, even if you were starring in it. After a couple of minutes of his dick sliding in and out of you, he cums inside you.
He takes his dick out, uses his finger to clean the drops getting out of your ass, then he looks up and... Wave at the camera?! What the hell?
That's when your door opens in real life. You look up and see your roommate, naked in your doorframe.
"So, how's your virgin ass doing? Hahaha! Listen, I had so much fun listening to your complaints about your nonexistent sex life, knowing damn well that I was burying my cock inside you every night, hahaha! It was fun for the time it lasted, but now let's fuck in the daylight, shall we? No? If you don't want it, I'll have to continue visiting you every night..."
At that instant, you begin looking for a lock to install on your door...
“Can I ask you something?” Lance sought tentatively while staring out at the football field, unable to look me in the eyes. He was seated upon the backrest of one of the stadium benches, a sheen of sweat coating his muscular body, pooling in the whorls of his hairy chest. It was in such moments that I couldn’t ignore my enduring attraction to him. “How often do you have—you know—sex?” he asked, voicing the last word at a near whisper.
Lance had been the only one of my straight, high school buddies who didn’t drop me when I came out as gay in college. “I don’t give a fuck who you fuck—as long as you don’t try to fuck me,” he said at the time, chugging a beer as we watched football at a bar. In truth, I wanted nothing more than to fuck Lance—well, for Lance to fuck me, specifically. But I wasn’t about to jeopardize our friendship for a ten-minute, drunken pump and dump.
Keeping his promise, Lance remained my friend through thick and thin. I was his best man when he married Alexa, his college sweetheart. And he was my best man when I married my husband Josh. Through it all, there was never a topic of conversation that we couldn’t discuss—except for sex.Â
Sure, when we were both single, we would confess to getting laid or hooking up. But we would never share the nitty-gritty details with each other. I didn’t want to hear about pussy, and Lance didn’t want to hear about dick. That is until one Saturday morning, after our weekly stadium stairs workout at our old high school, when Lance asked me how often I have sex.
“Define sex,” I laughed. “Do you mean like everything under the sun? Like oral, and mutual masturbation, and—”
“No,” Lance cut me off. “I mean actual sex. All out fucking with penetration—a dick in a cunt. What I’m asking is:  How often does Josh fuck your ass?”
“Gotcha,” I nodded, impressed that he even remembered that I’ve always been a bottom. “Josh and I fuck—all out anal penetration—about four to five times a week,” I confessed.Â
“Four to five times a week?” he gasped.Â
“Yeah,” I nodded. “I’m sensing that you and Alexa are falling short of that.”
“That’s an understatement,” Lance sighed. “I’m lucky if Alexa spreads her legs for me once a month. I mean, I knew things would slow down in the bedroom after she gave birth to the twins, but they’re in kindergarten now and nothing has improved.”
“Have you guys talked about it?” I asked. “Does she know that your needs aren’t being met?”
“Yeah, and she says she feels bad about that, but that sex just isn’t a priority for her right now,” Lance shared. “And then she told me that she would understand if I pursued sex outside our marriage—as long as she didn’t have to know about it.”
“What?!” my jaw dropped. “She gave you a free pass to have an affair?”
“Basically.”
“Dude, what are you bitching about then?” I chastised Lance. “Get out there and get yourself some pussy. Get that dick wet.”
“Easier said than done,” Lance scoffed. “I downloaded a few dating apps, but all of the bitches that I hit up were looking for a relationship. When I confessed that I’m married and just looking for a no-strings roll in the hay, I got ghosted.”
“That sucks,” I sympathized. “But you just gotta stick it out. You’re bound to eventually find some bitch who is DTF.”
Lance shrugged sullenly. He was suddenly quiet, staring off at the football field again. I was about to suggest we head out, maybe grab a bagel, when he dropped the bomb on me.Â
“How come you’ve never hit on me?” Lance asked. “Are you not attracted to me?”
“Not attracted to you?” I laughed. “Do you know how many loads I rubbed out in high school and college, fantasizing about you?”
“Then how come you never tried to jump my bones?”
“Because you told me not to,” I reminded him. “When I came out, you said you didn’t care who I fucked, as long as I didn’t try to fuck you.”
“Yeah—well I was young and stupid back then,” Lance shrugged. “I didn’t know what the fuck I wanted back then. But then that one time I walked in on you and Josh, when we were all at that shitty beach rental right after you had started seeing him, and he was pile-driving you up against the headboard.”
“I was mortified that you saw us like that,” I shivered at the memory. “I’m sure you felt embarrassed for walking in on us.”
“I wasn’t embarrassed,” Lance denied. “It looked hot as fuck—so completely different from any sex that I had ever experienced. I was jealous of Josh giving it to you like that. I wanted to give it to you like that, too.”
“You can—if you want,” I offered. “You can fuck my ass—as often as you need. And Alexa would never have to know. She’s already given you permission to play around.”
“But what about Josh?” asked Lance. “I don’t want to do anything that might—”
“Lemme just text him quick,” I pulled out my phone and began to tap out a short text to my husband.Â
“Wait—you’re just gonna text him to ask if he’s cool with us fucking?” Lance gasped as I hit send. “Don’t you think that conversation would be better in person?”
“Josh just replied,” I announced, scanning his text. “He said that it’s about fucking time that you and I hooked up, and he’s totally down with it, as long as he gets to watch.”
“He wants to watch us fuck?”
“Yeah,” I affirmed. “Are you not cool with being watched?”
“I don’t give a fuck if Josh wants to watch,” Lance clarified. “I’m just surprised that he wants to watch.”
“Oh—Josh loves being cucked,” I shared.Â
“Cucked?” Lance cocked his head to one side inquisitively. “I don’t know what that means.”
“It means that Josh loves to be a cuckold—a man whose partner gets used by other men,” I enlightened Lance. “Josh gets off on sharing my ass with others, especially if he gets to watch. Are you okay with that?”
“Yeah,” Lance nodded. “I’m game for that. It seems only fair, since I saw him fucking you all those years ago.”
Twenty minutes later we were in the bedroom that I share with my husband Josh. He greeted us in a bathrobe, having just prepared the bed for us: Â the duvet pulled down, a fuck rag placed at the edge of the bed, a bottle of lube on the bed table along with a box of condoms that went ignored. After a few minutes of awkward pleasantries, Josh took a seat in a wing chair that faced the bed, ready for the show to start.
“I’m—I’m a bit nervous,” Lance admitted as we both began to pull off our clothes. I’d seen his cock soft before at the gym and skinny dipping at the lake during our college days, but I had never seen him with a full chubby. Christ, he had a big one. “The thought of fucking you—it’s still a bit weird,” he confessed.
“There’s nothing weird about two buddies helping each other out,” Josh chimed in from his chair. “That’s one of the main difference between the straight and gay communities. We gay dudes usually have no issues with hopping into bed with friends—or complete strangers,” Josh laughed.
“How about you fuck me from behind?” I offered, slathering my hole with lube, my eyes still fixed on Lance’s big dick, which was growing exponentially to an impressive nine inches. “Maybe it will be easier if you don’t have to see my face,” I suggested. “You can just pretend that you’re bagging some bitch from behind.”
“Yeah—I think that could work,” Lance agreed, watching intently as I climbed onto the bed. Positioning myself on all fours, my ass at the edge of the bed, I presented my hole to him. “Fuck, that’s a pretty cunt,” Lance marveled, stepping up to the plate, reaching out to trace his finger around the puckered rim of my orifice.
“Rub your cock against his hole,” Josh directed from his chair. “Tease him with that big dick.”
Gripping his nine-incher in one fist, Lance rubbed his meaty cock head up and down my ass crack, driving me wild. Feeling a slight change in resistance when he found my entry point, he began to push into the bullseye of my ass, his hands digging into my hips.
“Yeah—get that big dick in me,” I moaned as he began to breach the folds of my knotted sphincter. “Just push a little harder and you’ll—HOLY FUCK,” I screamed, Lance’s nine-inch shaft suddenly buried in my bowels completely, his balls mashed against my hole.Â
“Daaaammmnn, you’re tight,” Lance marveled as he began to explore my fuck canal with his big dick, delivering a series of deep thrusts into my guts.Â
“You like his cunt?” my husband inquired from his perch. “Is that not the best hole you’ve ever had?”
“Fucking incredible,” Lance licked his lips, staring down at his rigid rod as it slid in and out of my ass. “This cunt is so fucking good.”
“You like his big dick up your ass, baby?” Josh called to me, his robe now open as he openly jacked himself to the live porn show in our bedroom. “You like feeling that big dick all up in your tight snatch?”
“It feels so fucking good,” I answered breathlessly, gripping the sheets as Lance began to pound me harder. “He’s so fucking BIG,” I cried out, my toes curling with each thrust in my depths.
“That’s it, Lance—fuck his ass with that big cock,” Josh commanded, like a coach shouting plays from the sidelines. “Show my husband that you’re in charge now. Make him fucking beg for mercy.”
Following orders, Lance began to fuck the living shit out of me, his low-hangers pounding my ass with each thrust. All those years of pent-up sexual frustration, all those years of being neglected by his wife, were suddenly unleashed upon my hole. He was a fuck machine, ruthlessly using my body, hammering my cunt into submission.
I started to lose consciousness, my eyes rolling back into my head. I could hear Lance and my husband talking about me, their voices ricocheting in my head as Lance pulverized my quivering cunt. Josh was suddenly in my ear, telling me that I was a good husband—a good cumdump—and that he was proud of me for taking dick like a champ from such a hung stud. The only thing he wanted more was to witness Lance breeding me. My husband was about to get his wish.
“Dude—I’m about to bust,” Lance announced urgently, pulling me back to reality, his cock swelling in my fuck canal. “It’s cool if I shoot up your ass?”
“Breed the bitch,” Josh answered for me, taking his place in the wing chair once more, anxiously awaiting the big climax. “Fucking seed his hole.”
“CHRIST,” Lance gasped, my sphincter locking around the base of his thick shaft instinctively as his big dick began to pulse in my depths, releasing his seed. “FUCK—SHIT—FUCK,” he grunted, his body convulsing as rope after rope of his warm, thick cum was discharged into my abused bowels. “DAMN—I’m still cumming,” he marveled as his cock continued to throb, flooding my guts with a massive load.Â
Lance collapsed upon me, his weight crashing me into the bed. His breath was hot at my ear, panting as his breathing slowly returned to normal. He remained buried in my depths, our bodies melded as one. My best friend had given me the most sacred gift that a man can bestow—his seed.
“Holy fucking Christ, that’s was good,” Lance exhaled, pulling out me, his pearly load dripping from my wrecked hole, his wet dick swinging between his hairy thighs. “I don’t think I’ve ever had an orgasm that intense before.”
“No shit,” my husband laughed from his chair as he observed Lance searching the floor for his discarded shorts. “You think you might wanna come back and fuck him up the ass again sometime?” Josh gestured to me, wrecked and motionless upon the bed.Â
“Like you even have to ask?” Lance laughed, pulling on his running shorts over his spent cock. “I better bolt,” he pulled out his phone from his pocket, checking the time. “Alexa’s gonna wonder where the fuck I’ve been,” he chuckled. After giving me a brief smack on the ass, Lance was gone.
“You ready for round two, babe?” Josh asked me, standing up and taking off his robe as soon as Lance had departed. My husband was rock hard, his eight-incher raging to be inside me.
“Get that big dick in me,” I begged, opening my legs for him as I fingered my cummy hole.Â
“Christ, that guy shot a big load all up in here,” Josh marveled, pushing into my dripping hole. “I fucking love when you’ve gotta sloppy cunt for me.”
Stories are fiction and intended for readers 18 and up. All characters are assumed to be legal, consenting adults.
My bunk mate and I were a match made in Heaven. He craved cock and I craved hole. It worked perfectly and we fucked all the time. Hell, I got more sex while I was deployed than I did back home with my wife! The other guys were catching on though, and I’m not sure I’m keen on sharing
One day, I was laying out by the pool, enjoying the warmth of the sun and the summertime air. While outside, I fell asleep in the peaceful setting.
My dreams were HOT. Some of the sexiest men, serving my cock, rubbing my feet, kissing my chest. Even though it was only a dream, it felt so good, and it felt as if my body was actually responding to the pleasure
As I approached the edge, my eyes softly fluttered up, and I was surprised that the pleasure hadn’t stopped. I looked down at saw my neighbor with my cock in his mouth. I might have freaked out if it didn’t feel so good.
“I am sorry,” he said, licking up and down my cock before continuing, “I saw you laying there and your food was throbbing. You seemed like you really needed this, and I can’t just look away when a man needs to be serviced.”
I chuckled a bit, not knowing this side of my neighbor, but realizing we could have a lot of fun together. “Good boy,” I said, and gripped his head to push it further down on my cock
How many times did Carlos fuck me in that little twin bed? I lost count. I had him come over whenever the house was empty. I missed his smile, his touch, his cock.
And Carlos seemed into me too. One day as we lay sweaty and tangled up in the sheets, he held me as I shook. “Why are you crying, baby? Did I hurt you?”
“No, Carlos. Never. It’s not that.”
“Bueno. Because I love fucking you, and I want you to love it as much as me. Cada vez. Every time. Wanna make you feel so good, baby.”
“You do, Carlos. Every time.” I brushed some tears from my right eye. “I’m crying because I don’t want to let you go. Because I don’t want to have to wait for the apartment to be empty until I can see you again.”
“Awww, chico. You’re so sweet.” He kissed me. “Tan dulce como siempre. You’re my sweet beautiful baby, and I want you to have the best.” He grinned. “Y debes saber, I hate all the waiting too.” His large hand brushed the tears from my other eye. “There’s no one I know as young and pretty and sweet as you, baby. No one with lips as soft. No one who feels as good when I slip my cock inside. There are so many things I love about you, baby.” I flushed red with happiness and kissed him.
“Tell you what,” he continued. “We don’t have to do one of these pretend repair calls for us to meet up.” My eyes lit up. “Toma,” he said, tossing me his phone. “Put in your number. I’ll give you mine. Text or call any time.”
I did. I texted whenever I thought of him, which was I lot! I sent him little notes. Sometimes a selfie. Nothing too saucy—maybe a shot of me modeling a new pair of tight jeans. “Looking real good there, baby,” he’d reply. “Hard at work here.” And then he’d send through a picture of his flexed bicep and my dick would pulse at the thought of that strong arm holding me down he worked his dick inside and fucked me again.
And we did fuck again. Again and again, as often as we could manage it. Now that we were texting back and forth, we’d get so fired up that we had to see each other. “Damn, look at that. Come over, baby”—and I’d invent some excuse (homework at the library, going to a friend’s house, whatever) to leave my place and go over to his.
“Sorry, chico. It is not much,” he said the first time I came over. “It’s a bachelor’s apartment. Small and messy. But we can be together here.”
“I don’t care, Carlos,” I said, kissing him. “I’m here for you.” But I could do something about the mess. After we fucked and while he was in the shower, I cleaned up the kitchen, scrubbing and organizing. He came out wrapped in a towel as I was rummaging through the fridge.
“What’s all this?” he asked, His thickly muscled, working man’s body looking like some kind of Greek statue. Raw athleticism and power constrained only by a small towel wrapped around his waist.
“I cleaned up a little,” I said, accepting his kiss before I turned back to the fridge. “Not much in here, but sit down. I’ll make you something.”
I found cheese and butter, pulled out some sandwich bread, and got to work. Minutes later I set a plate of gooey grilled cheese sandwiches in front of him. A huge smile broke out across his face. “Ah, damn, you’re so good to me, baby! Come over here.”
He pulled me onto his lap. “You take real good care of me, chico.” He kissed me and I felt his cock thickening below, even through the towel.
“Always,” I replied.
That’s what I wanted, to take care of him. I got away for a few hours that weekend and went to his apartment. After we finished fucking, I washed all the sheets and towels and cleaned up Carlos’s living room, sorting things, dusting the shelves, and putting out some new throw pillows for the couch that I bought on the way over.
“Joder! You’ve made it look like a real home, baby.” And it WAS a kind of home for us. I came over whenever I could, cooking up meals for the week and sealing them in Tupperware so he’d only have to reheat. Sewing those “Carlos” patches onto his work shirts. Replacing the broken blinds with some navy blue curtains.
“I love having you here, baby,” he said over breakfast one morning, yawning and scratching his balls. “Now when I wake up and see how nice everything looks, I think of you. And I’m dying to just roll over and hold you, push myself right in and drain my balls. Cover you with kisses. That would be a perfect start to every day.”
Sadly, we couldn’t do that. I was still living at home. And no one knew about us. I couldn’t spend the night with him. I couldn’t come over as much as I’d like.
So we began to meet up outside of school. Carlos would pull into the parking lot in between jobs, text me, and I’d come out. We made out in his truck, and when there was enough time we’d scramble into the back and fuck. Carlos would open up his jeans and pull down my pants. I’d sit on his lap and ride until he shot deep inside me.
“I love this, chico,” he told me one afternoon, his cock buried deep inside me. I felt it swelling up and then pulsing, filling me with a flood of his semen. “I don’t have to wear a condom with you. I can fuck you raw, skin to skin.”
“I love feeling every bit of you,” I told him.
“And with you, I cum so hard, shooting so deep up inside you that I half expect it come trickling out of your mouth.” We both laughed at this and leaned in for a kiss.
“Always, Carlos. No barriers with me. Ever.”
“Never, baby. We belong like this.”
We were both so addicted to it—this joining of our bodies, this giving and taking of Carlos’s load—that we made it happen almost daily.
It was changing me. It was as if his semen was bringing me to life. My teen acne cleared up and my skin glowed. My butt filled out, becoming bigger and rounder—two soft pillows into which he sank his veiny brown cock. My nipples grew taut and firm, begging Carlos to tweak and bite them.
Others noticed it too. Not the boys, but the men at school, my male teachers. They saw the change and responded. “Well, hello there!” my homeroom teacher greeted me the day after Carlos and I first fucked. He leaned into to whisper, “Looks like you’re coming into your own.” A few weeks ago my gym teacher gave me a slap on the ass as I was heading to the showers. “Pumping these babies up nicely, Bobby,” he told me. “Keep it up.” The custodian who cleaned the science lab gave me a long stare as we all filed out of the room at end of class. As the door was closing I looked back and saw him stick his hand down his pants to adjust himself.
The attention from the men at the school was interesting, but my eyes were glued to my phone, always waiting for a text from Carlos to say that he had a break between jobs and I could meet him in the parking lot.
I was meeting him there now and he immediately pulled me into the back of the truck. “So hot for you today, baby,” he whispered as he cupped my ass possessively. “Been thinking about this all day.”
We fell right into it. He fucked fast and shot hard within the first few minutes (“Sorry chico, just gotta get this one out”). I started to stroke myself and Carlos stopped me. “Wait, baby. I’m still hard. I should be able to put another in you.” And then we were fucking again. It took a little longer this time, but then he stiffened again and exploded inside me, draining his massive balls of a second load. I could feel it sloshing through me.
He held my body to him and I lazily stroked my fingers up and down the veins on his arms—white fingers popping against the caramel of his skin. “I can feel every drop of you, Carlos,” I whispered to him.
“Muy bien, baby. Protege mi esencia.”
“I will.”
“I love that my load goes right inside you, and that you will keep it safe. So nice not to have to worry about a baby or anything.”
“Yeah. But…”
“But what, baby?”
“Yeah, that’s really practical. But just imagine if you could. Get me pregnant, I mean. The way you fuck me…we’d have a Disneyland worth of kids together at this point.”
He threw back his head and laughed. “Oh yeah! That would be so fucking dangerous,” he said, coming in to kiss me between words. “If every time I’m spilling my seed into you, it’s so strong that we make a new life. I’d be knocking you up over and over.”
I moaned loudly.
“You like that, baby? You want me to knock you up?”
“It’s really hot to think about.” His dick was chubbing up again and he pressed it against my hole. I was so relaxed and still pre-lubed with his cum, so it went right in. He began thrusting.
“Fucking miracle semen, yeah baby? That’s why I have these big balls, chico. Why I’m so virile. I’m meant to spread this seed around. To fuck, to breed. Maybe I should breed you too, huh?” I moaned and spread my legs to open myself up better.
“Yeah, that’s right. I’ll plow it into you, deep and good. So it takes hold. So your body can’t resist it.”
“It wouldn’t want it to resist, Carlos.”
“I know, baby. Your body always yields to me. It knows your man is giving you what you need.”
He pushed deeper, fucked me harder. I thought we had already done everything, but now he was reaching new places inside me.
“Give me a baby, Carlos. Fuck…fuck me, breed me, put your fucking baby in me!!”
“Ayyyyyy, chico…Imma bout to explode.” He put his hand around my neck. “You ready, baby? Hold on. Here it comes. Here’s everything you need…aaaarhhhhhhhhh YEAH! Fuck yeah! Seeding you so deep.”
“So deep,” I agreed. I felt the hot jets spraying out of his impossibly full balls. Filling me up.
Jesus. I felt full, so much fuller than normal. But I didn’t care. I always relished the feeling of Carlos’s seed inside me.
We reluctantly kissed goodbye and I pulled on my clothes and went in to math class. I felt like I could hear sloshing with every step I took.
I slipped into my seat in the third row, hoping my late arrival wouldn’t be noticed. No such luck; Mr. Preston called on me right away.
“Bobby! Since you’re late, why don’t you show the class your answer to problem set 2? Come up here.” I grabbed my notebook and went up to the whiteboard. As I began sketching the equation I felt a little funny. A little uncomfortable down below. I heard the class whispering. Then a few people tittered. I dropped a hand and felt the back of my thigh. A wet spot. Shit. One of those massive loads was leaking out of me.
“Bobby.” Mr. Preston’s hand was on my shoulder. “Can I see you in the hall?” I nodded and he guided me out of the classroom. “Vivek!” He shouted back. “Put problem 2 on the board.” He closed the door quietly and turned to face me.
His eyes were filled with concern. Mr. Preston was a good guy—tall, thin, bespectacled. Early 40s. He had the handsome, easygoing demeanor of a TV therapist, like one of those guys my mom would watch when she was home in the late afternoon.
“You OK, Bobby?”
I nodded.
“Good, good,” he responded. He gazed at me appraisingly, and his tongue peeked out for a moment and wet his upper lip. “You got seeded pretty good, huh?”
I nodded again.
“That’s some lucky bastard out there. And his good work has ruined your pants for the day.” He chuckled.
“Listen, Bobby, you look like you’re fine, but what happened back there is a little unusual. You should go see Doc Trabboni. Get checked out.”
“OK, Mr. Preston. I appreciate your concern.”
“Of course, son.” His eyes locked into mine and he lay his hand on my shoulder. “And hey, if you ever need some help…you know, with anything, you just come let me know.”
“I will Mr. P.”
“Good.” He looked down and laughed. “Now whose pants won’t let him go back into classroom?” My eyes followed his down to the left leaning VPL in his gray slacks. We both laughed and I went down to the hall to the nurse’s office.
“Mr. Preston said I should see Doc Trabboni,” I told the nurse. She nodded and called down to the athletics center. Doc Trabboni was the athletic trainer. He wasn’t a physician but everybody called him “Doc” due to his degree in physical therapy.
“You can wait in the exam room,” she told me. Within five minutes there was a knock at the door and Doc Trabboni entered.
Doc was in his mid 40s, a short and thick Italian. Built like a fire plug and tough-looking. His square head was shaved into a shiny dome, and while he lacked hair on his head, it exploded from the rest of his body. Big tufts peeked out from his shirt collar, his cuffs, the back of his neck. He was not a handsome man. But he was all man. Through and through.
“Bobby. What’s the problem,” he barked.
“Uh, I was in class and…um, well, Mr. Preston thought I should come see you.”
“See me? Why?”
I lay back on the exam table and rolled over onto my stomach. “Because of this,” I muttered into the paper. Doc let out a low whistle when he saw the wetness of my pants, the channel of cum running down my leg.
“Jesus, boy. Is that…?” I just nodded my head sheepishly against the table. I felt coach’s finger touch my pants and swipe something up. The sound of his lips moving and maybe his tongue. Then a grunt. “Well, I’ll be. Our little Bobby. Are you getting fucked, boy?”
“Yes, Doc.”
“OK, OK. Nothing to be ashamed of. I don’t judge, I’m only concerned for your well being.” He paused. “Everything all right down there, Bobby? You want me to check things out?” My cock pulsed against the exam table. Doc? I had never thought about him much, but….
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“Frank! Frank!!” My mother’s voice rang out through our small apartment. “The dishwasher is broken again. It’s flooding the floor!”
“Bobby! Get some towels,” my father barked at me. “God damn it, Mary! Just turn off the water.”
“I’m in the middle of washing dishes!”
“But do you want a flood? Come on, let them sit. The ones in the sink too. I’ve cut the water to kitchen.”
“Frank!”
“It’s fine, I’ll call Carlos. I’m sure he can swing by and make the fix tomorrow.”
“OK, sure, I can come home early and let him in.”
“Oh no, Mary. Bobby will do it. We still need all your hours this week. Keep the full shift. Bobby can come home a little early if he has to.”
“Sure, Dad,” I told him.
“Are you sure, Frank?” she asked.
“Mary. You remember the last time. No. Bobby will do this. End of discussion.”
“Well fine, then,” Mom said, tight-lipped. “You boys can deal with the mess in here. I’m going to the living room to relax.”
***
I cut last period and came home from school to meet Carlos and let him in. He was a kind of a handyman, I guess. He did appliance repair around the neighborhood. It had been a few years since I had last seen him at our house, though. He handled our repairs from time to time, but I had school during the day, soccer games on the weekend, and Mom always seemed ready to handle things with him. But not this time.
I was curious to see him again. And excited to be the one to let him in. I remembered him being handsome. I’d hear the ladies in the lobby of our apartment building chattering about him sometimes. I don’t know exactly what they said about him because they hushed up when someone approached. But it was clear from the gossip that Carlos got his share of attention.
A couple years ago, the last time I was in the house during one of his repairs, maybe I didn’t fully notice that about him or maybe I didn’t care. But since that time I had grown, come of age, and the pieces started falling into place. An interest in men. A flushing in my face, a swelling in my pants when I thought about the things I wanted to do...someday.
But I hadn’t really done that much yet. School was mostly full of skinny, shy boys that left my dick limp. I was too nervous around the hot jocks, and they’d sooner stuff me into a locker than talk to me. They could feel what I wanted from them. And they weren’t buying it. So my experience was limited to thinking about them at bedtime, when I could rub my dick and finger my hole like I dreamed of them maybe doing to me some day.
When mid-afternoon came, I rushed out of school and took up a place waiting by the apartment door.
The knock came right at 3:00 and I answered it. Carlos’s muscular body filled the doorframe. Damn. I could see why the ladies talked.
“Hey, kid,” he said with a smile, his white teeth flashing bright against the deep caramel color of his skin. “Dónde está tu mamá?” He mixed English and Spanish, just like he mixed his friendly smile with the dangerous brawn of a man who worked hard with his body. I wasn’t too sure of his background. Probably Dominican, like so many in our neighborhood. But he was unlike anyone I interacted with day-to-day. He was rugged and big and somehow also kind-looking.
I answered his question. “She’s not here today. I’m supposed to let you in.”
“Yeah? That’s too bad, chico. Your mama is a friend of mine. Been a little while since I said Hi to her.”
I studied his figure. He was not too tall but his body was imposing: tight, compact muscle that filled up the doorframe. A barrel chest that stretched out his workshirt (with the name “Carlos” stitched onto on a patch that rested on his meaty left pec). His sleeves were rolled up tight against veiny, bulging arms. A black tattoo of a cross strained to be seen against the dark brown of his skin. Tight black curls framed his changeable face. He could look tough, with a crooked nose, probably from some fight back in his past. But when he smiled, it all changed to sweetness and warmth, his face lighting up with a bright smile, sparkling black eyes, and a big dimple on the left side.
“Gonna let me in, chico?”
“Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry. Come in.” He winked and walked right in, making his way to the kitchen without waiting for me.
“Your papi said it was the dishwasher.”
“Yeah, it’s not working right. It’s been flooding the floor.”
“OK, I’ll check it out.” He opened the dishwasher. “Oye, chico, help clear out those plates? I don’t want to break anything when I’m working here.”
Dad had cut the water last night and left everything in place. I looked at Carlos and nodded, and got to work unloading the dishwasher while he set up his toolbox and went to the hallway to turn off the circuit breaker.
I heard him come back into the room, but he didn’t say anything right away. I could feel his stare while I was bent over the dishwasher, grabbing dishes. Could he really be looking at me? What for?
“There,” I said standing up. “Finished.”
“Good boy,” he said, tousling my hair. “Gracias.” I blushed and smiled up at him. His approval meant everything. “This won’t take too long. Maybe a half hour.”
I nodded. “Do you need anything?”
“Nah, I’m all set. You can go watch TV or whatever and I’ll shout when I’m done.”
“I’d rather… Can I stay here? Maybe watch and learn?”
He looked at me and chuckled. “You want to learn appliance repair? A kid like you? I think your folks send you to school for something different.”
“I just…” I didn’t know what to say. It’s true I was an unlikely handyman. I had no interest or ability for such things. I must have looked like a lovestruck kid. He could see it on my face.
“It’s fine, chico. Stay if you want.” He pulled the empty rack out of the dishwasher and began removing interior screws to open up the panel. “Oye, grab my light, will ya?” I went to his tool box and brought him his flashlight. “Gracias.” He clipped it to the counter and aimed it where he was working, but I could see that some shadows persisted.
“I could hold it,” I offered. He looked at me and slowly nodded. I took the flashlight and aimed it over his shoulder and at his hands, giving him more clear illumination.
“Gracias. Mucho mejor,” he said, continuing his work. To aim the flashlight I had to stand right next to him, just behind him, nearly pressed up against his strong, muscled back. Almost close enough that I could lean in and kiss the delicate gold chain resting on his thick, brown neck. What would it feel like to brush my lips against that hot skin, to feel the cool metal of his necklace? For a moment I wished I was a woman. One of these neighborhood ladies who were the source of the Carlos gossip among the others chattering in the lobby.
“You smell good, chico,” he muttered, still looking down at this hands and turning screws.
“I do? Really?” He grunted. “Like what?”
“Fresh and clean, like soap.” He stopped to mop sweat from his brow with the forearm of his work shirt. “Like you just stepped out of a shower. The opposite of me,” he laughed. “All sweaty and dirty all through the day.”
“Does anyone care about that?”
He laughed. “My wife does, every night when I come home. But I supposed the rest don’t.” The rest? Who were they?
Carlos continued his work with the screws and removed the door. He wiggled his torso inside the machine so he could more easily access the drain. While his upper half was inside, I had free reign to stare at the rest of him. Thick meaty thighs that supported two swollen globes of ass cheeks pressed up against his jeans. As he stretched his torso inside, his shirt had risen up and out of his waistband, revealing a thin strip of flesh between his jeans and his shirt. Despite the roughness of his job, his skin looked soft and creamy.
He popped his head out to ask to me to move the light for him (“To the left a bit, please, chico?”) and caught me staring. He stared back for a beat, processing this discovery, then broke out into a smile. “Just like your mama, huh?”
“What?”
“You want to watch me.” I blushed and said nothing. “It’s OK, chico. You are like your mama, I think. But younger. And maybe prettier.”
“You…you think I’m pretty?”
He smiled and gave me a big wink. “It’s OK. Watch all you want. But let me finish this, baby.” Baby? It made be flush bright red, and I felt warm and weird all over. But it also felt good. Baby.
I held the light while he finished pulling apart the dishwasher drain.
“There,” he said, coming back out after a minutes. “Got it. But now I’ve gotta snake the drain.” He walked over to his tool box, grabbing a wrench and a small hose. He brought them over to the cabinet beneath the sink and lay them to the side. Then he unbuttoned his work shirt and stripped down to the white tank undershirt underneath. Tight swirls of coarse, black chest hair peeked up over the top. “This will just take a few minutes,” he said, slipping under the sink on his back. He shut off the water valve and used the wrench to loosen the bolts and open up the pipe.
“Do you…do you need anything?” I asked him. There was a pause while he considered.

“Sure, kid. Something to drink, maybe.”
“What would you like?”
He laughed. “Well, I’m on the job, baby. So I suppose I should say water.”
I went to the refrigerator. I wanted to treat him better than that. I came back with a beer and knelt next to him.
“Here. If you want. We had it in the fridge.” He looked at me and looked at the bottle. He accepted it and took a sip. He sighed.
“Thanks, kid. You did good, chico.” He tousled my hair. He took another sip and then handed it back to me. “Hold this, baby, while I finish.” I took the bottle back and held it for him while he continued his work.
Carlos continued his work snaking the drain. Within a few minutes he was working out a nasty clog that he caught in a small bucket. He wriggled out from under the sink and stood up. “Gotta throw this mess out.” I nodded and took the bucket from him, tossing it into the garbage can and coming back.
“Thanks,” he said.
I extended my hand to him, offering the beer bottle again. “Thirsty?”
“Gracias, chico,” he said, taking a long sip. “You know how to take care of a man.”
“Thank you. That’s what I want.”
“Yeah?” His voice was low and breathy and his eyes bored into me as he took another sip. I felt like he could see right through me, right into me, knowing everything I was thinking, feeling, wanting. I shivered.
He took a step closer to me, our bodies now just inches apart. “And do you want a man to take care of you?”
I sighed. “Yes. I do. More than anything.”
We continued standing so close to each other but not touching. It was excruitiating. He moved his hand down to his crotch and adjusted his bulge. Was he getting hard? Was I making him that way?
“You make a hell of of an impression, kid.” He downed the rest of the beer. “Let me put the sink back together and finish up here. Then we can see.” I nodded and he stepped back. My pants were tight. I was hard too.
He dropped down on his back and wriggled in under the sink. I watched his arms flex and his veins bulge as he turned the bolts and tightened up the drainpipe. Those thick brown arms, flexing and bulging with veins…they looked like some kind of obscene close-up of a giant cock. I was mesmerized. I reached out to touch an arm, stoking my fingers along the veiny lines.
“How do you get them so big?”
“What? My arms?”
“Yeah.”
“This kind of work will do that. You like it?”
“So much.” I traced back up from the bottom and then pulled my hand back. “Sorry for touching, I—“
“You can touch all you want in a bit, baby. But I need them right now to seal this up.” Of course, the sooner he could finish, the soon we could….
But how could I wait? For the first time, I had a beautiful man laid out before me, and I was so hungry, so eager. I felt like I had been starving for at least the past year.
My eyes followed the line from his arms to his chest, down his torso, to his waist and the mound in his jeans. And to my surprise, something peeking out.
Was it? Good God, yes, it was. The cock straining against his pants was still stiff. It pointed straight up so much that it had escaped his waistband, yielding a bare head peeking out from the top of his jeans.
I touched it to be sure. My small fingers lightly traced the flare of his cockhead: right side, left side, back to middle and up to the piss slit.
“Umpph,” Carlos grunted and he shimmied his legs to get more comfortable. His cockhead poked out further.
I leaned over and kissed it. Soft skin, a musky smell. My tongue darted out to taste him and I caught a pearl of pre-cum before it flattened out. It tasted of salt and plantains. I leaned in and took the cockhead into my mouth, holding him there, covering up the exposed part. Enveloping the tip of his cock in the warm, wet sanctuary of my mouth.
“Feels real good, baby,” Carlos muttered, and I responded with a “Mmmmmhmmm,” knowing that these humming vibrations would reverberate up and down his pole.
He brought one of his meaty hands down to his jeans button and undid it, taking down the zipper as well. I peeled his underwear down and slid my teen mouth along his thick, brown shaft.
“So eager,” he murmured. I was. I was used to the thin bodies and small cocks of boys in the showers at school. That was intriguing, maybe, but it never provoked as much lust as I felt now, seeing Carlos here. A man’s body, a man’s cock. And now it was in my mouth, under my care.
I continued the blow job, operating partly on instinct and partly from study of the video clips I would find with my phone and watch under the covers at night.
He was thicker than anyone I had seen before and my mouth struggled to accommodate him. But I was determined. He was right there and so beautiful. This might be my only chance.
“Hold on, chico.” He slid out from under the sink and stood up. I kneeled before him, my eyes still at cock height, eager to get back on it. He hooked his thumbs into his waistband and pulled down his underwear and jeans, exposing all of his crotch and letting his cock swing free. “Here.”
My field of vision was filled with that thick brown cock, studded with veins, rising from a mass of wiry black pubes. I had never seen anything so beautiful.
I got back on it. My jaw had relaxed now, and I was able to slide up and down the shaft, making my mouth into a warm, tight receptacle for him.
“Very nice, baby,” Carlos praised, placing a hand on the back of my head and pulling me to toward him. I sucked my way down as he contracted his glutes and thrust his hips forward. I was sucking him and he we was fucking me, fucking my face. Not hard, not rough; just firm, deliberate. Building up a give and take between the two of us.
The rhythm was mesmerizing and time felt suspended. But eventually he stopped us and pulled out. My mouth felt empty without him inside me. He put both his hands on my cheeks and tipped my face up to look at him. His face was filled with desire but also care, and he pulled me up to my feet.
“You take it so good, baby.” He leaned down and softly brushed his thick lips against mine. “Kiss me?” As if he needed to ask. I was thrilled to be sucking Carlos’s cock and it was a dream to be touching a man like him. But to be kissed as well? I wasn’t sure that guys like him did that. I kissed him back before he could change his mind.
Whoa. I felt the rough stubble of his cheek against my smooth one, his lips curled around mine, the dance of his tongue, the tiny bite of his teeth. Our mouths explored each other, fumbling eagerly for more contact, like we were a pair of horny teenagers.
Eventually, he broke it off and pulled his head back to look at me, my face resting against the palm of his right hand.
“Good?” He asked? I nodded vigorously. “Good. But let’s let that hold you for just a minute. Or I’m gonna blow right right here. And you don’t want me to do that yet, do you, baby? You want more?”
I nodded. I wanted so much more
“Good. Give me 5 minutes baby. I wanna finish this work and I can’t do it with distractions. Go to your room. Get yourself ready.” It was hard to tear myself away, but I did as he said, going to my room and leaving him in the kitchen to stuff his cock back into his pants and finish up his work.
***
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“Hold there guys,” the photographer ordered as we kissed, readjusting his camera for the photo shoot, trying to capture the definition in our muscular bodies with black-and-white film.
“You’re hard as a rock,” the nude model straddling me observed, my big cock pressed firmly against his tight hole. “Slide it in me,” he taunted. “Who cares if you’re straight? A hole is a hole.”
My buddy’s dad was on the couch, his shirt and tie undone, his pants around his ankles. Some type of gangbang porn was on the TV screen, a moaning bitch with huge jugs getting tagged by a roomful of dudes with pornstar cocks.
“Shit—I’m sorry, Mr. Flannigan,” I stammered, pretending to cover my eyes, yet covertly stealing a look at his big, floppy cock resting upon his hairy thigh. “Peter said you were working late. I didn’t realize you were home.”
“No worries,” he replied. “It was a rough day at the office. Thought I’d unwind with some porn.”
“Uh—cool,” I replied, still trying to ignore the elephant in the room—his big dick. “Well, I was just getting a beer from the fridge.”
“You want some scotch instead?” he asked reaching for an open bottle on the coffee table and taking a swig straight from it.
“Thanks, but I’m not so big on the hard stuff,” I shrugged continuing into the kitchen.
“You college boys,” he accused with a laugh as I returned with a can of Budweiser, “all you drink is beer. This scotch here will put some hair on your chest.”
“Is that why you’re so hairy, Mr Flannigan?” I teased, my eyes traveling up and down his body.
“You better fuckin’ believe it,” he winked, fondling his furry chest slowly for my benefit. “And you can call me Mike. You’re a man now, so you can drop the mister shit.”
“Okay—uh—Mike,” I replied awkwardly. But he ignored me, his eyes returning to the bitch on the screen who was sucking some hairy guy’s huge dick while getting her pussy railed from behind by a muscled, tattooed guy. I started to head back upstairs.
“Wait,” Mike called to me, his eyes traveling towards the stairs. “Where’s Peter?”
“He’s asleep” I replied. “We shot some hoops down at the park after dinner, and then he fell asleep playing video games upstairs when we got home. Peter said I could crash here tonight. Is that cool?”
“Definitely,” Mike answered. “You and Peter are best buds. You’re always welcome to stay here.”
“Uh—thanks,” I replied, moving toward the stairs again.
“Wait,” Mike called out once more, his eyes appraising me. “Since Peter is asleep—you wanna hang down here with me? Maybe watch some porn together?”
Jesus Christ, I couldn’t believe this was really happening. I had been attracted to Peter’s dad since, well, puberty. And it didn’t help that Mike Flannigan was known for being unable to keep his dick in his pants.
Peter and I were in high school when his parents divorced. His mom had come home from work early one day and caught Mike banging their cleaning lady up against the kitchen counter. After the divorce, it was rumored that Mike was slipping it to several desperate housewives in the neighborhood. But could I really be his next target?
“Well?” Mike prompted, interrupting my thoughts, his cock growing hard in his right hand. “You wanna watch some porn with me or not?”
“Uh—sure,” I agreed, trying not to appear overly eager as I sat on the couch next to Mike and placed my beer on the coffee table. “You want me to get undressed?”
“Duh,” Mike laughed. “How the hell are you going to jack with me if you don’t drop them shorts?”
“Right,” I laughed nervously as I pulled off my shirt and slid off my shorts.
“Nice,” Mike exclaimed, upon getting a look at my hard cock. But before I could react, he leaned over and took my dick down his throat. Was this really happening?
“Fuuuck,” I exhaled, my head rolling back as Mike locked his lips around the base of my cock, his tongue massaging my shaft. “I—I didn’t know you sucked dick.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” Mike winked, releasing my cock. “Don’t you and Peter fuck around like this when I’m not home?”
“No—no,” I stammered. “I’ve actually never played with another guy.”
“What?” Mike replied incredulously. “I loved playing around with my buds when I was your age. Shit, buds are supposed to help each other out. You wanna help me out?” he then asked, pulling my head down to his crotch.
I was soon gagging on his eight-incher as Mike held me down on it, his hand pressed firmly at the back of my head. “Yeah, choke on this big dick,” he growled. “Get it good and wet.”
His hand traveled to my ass while I proceeded to suck him, his finger finding my puckered hole. Pushing it inside me, he began to finger me, teasing my sphincter as he prepared me for what was to come next—his big dick.
“That’s good enough,” he announced, raising my head from his crotch and forcing his tongue down my throat, tasting himself on me. “Time for you to ride this big dick.”
Dutifully, I climbed on his lap, my skinny legs straddling his muscular thighs. “You feel that?” asked Mike, the tip of his cock pressed against my hole. I nodded in affirmation. “Good,” Mike smiled. “All you gotta do is sit on it.”
“Okay,” I nodded, baring down on his cock. I could feel the fullness of his cockhead as it breached my sphincter. “Ouch—FUCK,” I cried out in pain. “I don’t think I can do this.”
“Nonsense,” Mike insisted. “Men have been taking cock since the ancient Greeks. You can do this. You just need a little help.”
His hands moving to my hips, Mike grabbed me and forced me down onto his cock. “FUCK,” I screamed as his cock impaled my depths in one, swift move. Instantly, his balls were mashed against my hole—and I was no longer a virgin.
“I just popped your cherry,” Mike growled in my ear. “Time for some fun.”
I had hoped that Mike would start off slow, giving me the chance to adjust to his big dick inside of me, but that wasn’t his plan. Instantly, he proceeded to pummel my hole. The pain was unreal, a white-hot rod rammed up my ass. I closed my eyes, trying to hold back my tears.
But then something amazing happened. The pain began to subside. Waves of pleasure began to break through as Mike continued his assault on my hole. I was starting to feel good. Really good. My mind turned to mush.
“You’re rock hard,” Mike announced, breaking me from my trance. “I must be getting your prostate good.”
I looked down at my cock and, sure enough, I was rock hard—the hardest I’d ever been. My cockhead was purple and throbbing, precum streaming from my slit. And then something started to happen. It began as a slow throbbing beneath my balls, but quickly began to consume me.
A pressure was building, unlike anything I’d experienced when masturbating. My balls started to contract, and immediately I could feel the cum rising in my shaft. How was this possible? Neither Mike nor I had even touched my cock.
“Shit. I’m gonna cum,” I warned Mike, his big dick still working away at my tight hole.
“Yeah,” Mike growled. “Bust that nut. Let’s cum together.”
Instantly, I could feel my cock erupting, rope after rope of my thick cum flying into the air and coating Mike’s furry chest. And as my cock continued to pulse and throb, releasing my nut, I could feel a distinct throbbing within me as Mike seeded my virgin depths.
“Fuckin-A,” Mike grunted, his arms wrapped around me as he flooded my guts. From deep within, I could feel the warmth of his load as he filled my void.
“Christ, that was hot,” I panted as I collapsed forward onto Mike, wrapping my arms around his neck and resting my head on his manly shoulder. We stayed that way for several minutes, his big dick slowly going soft inside me as our breathing returned to normal.
“You’ve gotta cunt made for cock,” Mike praised as I finally pulled off him, his load gushing from my wrecked hole and streaming down the side of his shaft.
Instantly, I dropped to my knees and licked his cock clean. My tongue traveled north and then licked my load off his furry chest, not stopping until I had worked my way up to his lips. With a deep kiss, I fed our commingled loads to Mike.
“Mmm. We taste good together,” Mike smiled as we pulled apart. But before I could respond, a toilet flushed upstairs.
“Shit,” I gasped, reaching for my clothes. “Peter must be awake. I better get back up there before he comes down here looking for me.”
“You wanna come back tomorrow night?” Mike asked, pulling up his pants. “Take this cock again?”
“Yes,” I agreed eagerly. “But I thought Peter was spending the weekend with his mom?”
“He is,” Mike confirmed. “Why do you think I asked you to come back? I’d like to fuck you properly in my bed. And maybe, if you play your cards right, I’ll let you tap my furry hole in return.”
Stories are fiction and intended for readers 18 and up. All characters are assumed to be legal, consenting adults.
When Pete first started a new job as a roofer, he hadn’t known what to expect from his new coworkers. Luckily, they were all a good, friendly bunch of guys who went out of their way to make him feel like a part of the crew. There had been a small hiccup in the beginning when some of the guys had tried to include him when they’d been collectively complaining about their women not putting out for them. But once Pete had nervously confessed to them that he didn’t have a woman, as he was actually more into guys, they’d been more than accepting.
In fact, they’d each been keen to show just how excited they all were to have a queer on the crew by taking Pete around behind the nearby chimney stack so that they could each give Pete a welcoming gift, which Pete eagerly and diligently sucked out of them. Pete was just glad to have an opportunity to ingratiate himself further with the work crew, even if it meant spending the whole shift behind the chimney taking each of his new crew mates down his throat as they each took their break.
Their boss did get angry and start shouting at the crew when he noticed that Pete seemed to be on constant break, but once the crew had invited him up and sent him behind the stack to talk to Pete about his job performance, the matter was quickly worked out as the manager tried out Pete’s skills for himself and burned off any lingering anger by taking it out on Pete’s tight throat. The manager was quite a bit rougher than the rest of the roofers had been, but Pete took it all admirably, still keen to make himself a part of the crew even if that was as their collective onsite stress relief. And after the manager was done with filling him up, Pete’s position on his knees was even made official, so he wouldn’t have to worry about anything other than using his mouth to keep the rest of the crew’s balls drained.
“Fuck,” I gasped as Adam came up my ass, his cock pulsing in my depths, spewing his load into my virgin hole. My own dick was rock hard in response. I had never hooked up with a guy before—had never considered it. But sometimes you gotta give up something you have to get what you want. I just never thought that something would be my ass.Â
Fuck man. What just happened? I am confused. And still a little high.
I was out partying with my buddy Hector while my girlfriend was busy. We ended up at his place. And yeah, Hector is gay. I am not. He is more masculine than me, man. No one would ever think he was into cock. And having one put inside him. Ever.
He started joking about giving me a blow job. WTF? Why would I let him do that? But he was not taking no for an answer, pinning me down and taking out my cock and boom, right into his mouth. Shit. I had no idea it would even get hard for a guy. But it was. And he knew how to make it feel so fucking good.
Hector knew how to get me right to the point of unloading and backing off. His hand was all over my nuts, then a finger back to my asshole. I said fuck man, that is off limits. He did not stop. Shit it felt good. Twisting his fingers up inside me and finding places I didn't even know existed.
Then he leaned down and started licking my ass. My shithole, man. Aw fucking hell. I could feel his tongue entering inside. Chewing on my ass just right. I do not get this attention at home. And I was liking it. It was like he was lubing it up with his spit for some reason.
I was on my stomach enjoying life about then. Hector making sweet love to my hole with his talented mouth. Then he got on top of me. He is a big and strong fucker. It then dawned on my foggy brain what he was planning. I was shouting for him to get off me. That I wasn't some fag that he could fuck. He covered my mouth with his hand. And then it happened.
Now I figured a big guy like Hector probably had a big cock. Shit I had never seen it before. But holy fucking hell, it felt like a baseball bat was right at my back door. He was gentle. Sort of. Slowly pushing more and more of his boner into my virgin ass. I can't even describe the pain. He was saying it would start to feel good. I wasn't buying it.
Finally he hit bottom. The whole fucking thing was right up inside me where I intended it to be. And then he started fucking me. Nothing gentle about it. He fucking railed into me. Again and again. My ass was on fire and I was struggling to get away. Wasn't gonna happen.
I thought what the hell. Just take it and get it over with. But he was merciless. It did begin to start to feel better after a while. His cock was finding the place his fingers had discovered earlier. All I could think about was if this was gonna turn me into a homo. A fag. Mainly because my cock was so fucking hard.
Soon, but not soon enough, he paused and shot one huge load of his sperm up my ass. I could actually feel it inside. Damn. Once he unloaded he just kept fucking his seed into me. It was like his cock was not done yet. Fuck.
Finally he rolled off me. Laughing like fucking hell. He leaned over and took my hard boner into his mouth and I fucking erupted. He said he had been waiting a long time for this to happen. He said he knew I wanted it to. Fucking liar. My ass is never going to be the same again.
Hector leaned over and kissed me. And shit I found myself kissing back. Maybe I am a homo. Like Hector. Shit. So much to think about. Damn. Now what?
Here's the crazy part. I think I want him to do this again. Fuck. I am confused.
“Jason—? What the fuck?” my DILF stepdad Greg exclaimed upon catching me in his bathroom as he finished his morning shower. He quickly wrapped a towel around his muscular, hairy body, trying to conceal his big dick. The look in his eyes was pure anger, and for good reason. “Were you watching me jacking off in the shower just now?” he demanded.
“No,” I feebly protested, a blatant lie. “I—uh—I just needed to—uh—get some toilet paper.”
“The toilet paper in your bathroom is fully stocked,” Greg snapped. “I just put a new 24-pack in there yesterday.”
“I’m—I’m sorry,” I pleaded, retreating from him, running back to my bedroom. Greg had caught me red handed—watching him jack his big cock in the shower. What he didn’t know is that my spying on him had been going on for months.Â
Mom had started up with Greg when I was a senior in high school. Newly divorced, he took the apartment across from us. It was inevitable that they would start fucking. Mom would go over to Greg’s for a glass of wine after dinner, telling me to finish my homework while she was gone. An hour later, she’d return home with her lipstick smeared, her hair a tangled mess in the back, often a button missing from her blouse.
I couldn’t blame her. Greg was sexy as fuck. The muscles, the beard, the hairy body, the shaved head, the prominent bulge in his pants. I would have given anything to go over there and offer up myself to him, too. And though I was jealous of Mom, I was actually happy when Greg moved in with us a few months after he proposed to her. I had never really had a dad and loved the idea of this hunk of a man living with us.Â
It was an accident the first time I saw him naked, or at least that’s what I led Greg to believe. He and Mom had just fucked, the headboard hitting the wall, mom moaning under his weight while Greg grunted his load into her. Greg had a habit of going to the kitchen for a glass of water after they fucked, and so I ambushed him.
Standing naked at the kitchen sink, his body sweaty from sex, his spent cock was still engorged and glistening wet. The size of his member was particularly surprising. He was easily nine inches and thick. I was salivating over that piece of meat when he caught me out of the corner of his eye.
“Jason—? What are you doing up?” he jumped, his big cock bouncing in response. “I thought you were asleep.”
“I was thirsty,” I pretended, reaching in the cupboard for a drinking glass. “Don’t mind me.”
Greg was cool about the situation. He didn’t act weird or try to cover up his big cock with his hand or the dish towel. He stood in front of me naked without shame like any man would do in a locker room, before saying good night and retreating back to his room with Mom. But that ended his naked trips to the oasis. After that, he would pull on a robe or a pair of briefs before partaking in his post-coital quench. Dammit.
And so I started spying on him in the shower. Mom left for work early in the morning, leaving Greg to shower once she was gone. It was easy to sneak into their bedroom and lurk in the doorway to the bathroom, affording me an unobstructed view of Greg in the shower. He whistled to himself while lathering his hairy, muscular body with soap, his hands exploring every crevice of himself. And then imagine my surprise when he grabbed his soapy cock in his right fist and began to masturbate.Â
I would soon learn that Greg rubbed one out in the shower every morning—whether or not he fucked my mom the night before. His balls were a cum factory, always churning out a big load that Greg sprayed against the glass wall, later washing it all down the drain. Nothing is more intimate than watching another man as he pleasures himself—the peculiarities of his grip, his speed, his rhythm. Those all became familiar to me as I watched my new favorite porn feed every morning—my hot stepdad jacking his big cock.Â
Until he caught me.
“We need to have a chat,” Greg appeared in my doorway moments later, a flannel robe tied loosely at his waist, the exotic aroma of his sandalwood soap teasing my senses.Â
“I—I said I was sorry,” I stammered. “It was an accident.”
“I don’t think it was,” he countered, taking a seat next to me on my bed. “I know what it’s like to be—curious—about other guys at your age. Most guys are, to some degree. It’s only natural.”
“Did you—you know—spy on your dad in the shower?”
“Christ, no,” Greg laughed. “That would not have been a pretty sight. I’m not sure my dad could even find his own cock under his massive beer gut. But I did fuck a buddy of mine a few times.”
“Wait—what?” I exclaimed, my jaw dropping. “You fucked your buddy?”
“Yeah,” he shrugged. “It wasn’t a big deal. We would go camping on the weekends and get drunk on beer we stole from our dads, and then end up naked in our tent. Often, I’d end up with my dick in him. Neither of us ever talked about it. It was just something that happened in the moment—two guys enjoying each other, helping each other out.”
“What happened to him? Do you still fuck him?’
“Jesus, no,” Greg dismissed. “That’s all in the past. But we keep in touch. He’s an insurance agent up in Spokane. Married with three kids. Every now and then we get a beer together, but we don’t fuck anymore.”
“Do you—do you miss fucking his ass?”
“Shit,” Greg exhaled, scratching his beard. “Yeah, I guess I do sometimes. Sex with a man is, well, different—obviously. And not just because ass is tighter than pussy. Sex between two guys is more animalistic. There’s more of a dominance factor at play, which always turned me on.”
“Would you maybe—you know—be game to fuck my ass?” I ventured, my hand slipping inside his robe, feeling for his big cock.
“Cut that out, Jason,” Greg swatted at my hand. “I’m not gonna fuck you. You’re my stepson for Christ’s sake. What if your mother found out?”
“I would never tell her,” I promised. “It would be just something that we would share, and we—”
“Stop right there,” Greg protested, his hand raised. “Look, you’re a very handsome young man. And I know you’re going to make some girl—or guy—happy one day. But taking your stepdad’s cock in the meantime is not a good plan. You understand me?”
“Yes,” I nodded, my head bowed in shame and rejection.
“Look, I gotta get to work,” Greg stood up abruptly. “Let’s forget we ever had this chat—and not a word about it to your mother, okay? And Jason? I better not catch you spying on me in the shower again.”
Dinner was awkward that night with Greg avoiding eye contact with me. Though he said we were to forget about our earlier chat, it was clear he hadn’t done so. Sensing something was off, Mom asked Greg about his mood, which he blamed on a bad day at work. His silence and cool demeanor towards me felt like an unfair punishment. The worse was yet to come.
Greg was louder than usual that night, fucking my mom after dinner. Skin slapping skin, the bed springs straining under him, mom screaming her head off as he pounded her pussy to a pulp. His grunting was off the charts, the walls shaking when he dumped his load in her. It was all for show—to put me in my place—to remind me that his big cock did not belong to me and never would.Â
Never say never.Â
His performance only solidified my resolve. If Greg didn’t have the desire to fuck me, why all the pretense? Why not just pat me on the head and call me a deranged little man? In my mind it was clear that Greg did want to fuck me. And I was determined to make it happen.
Steam filled the bathroom as Greg showered the next morning, his back to me as I entered the bathroom while he soaped his muscular body. Patiently, I awaited his gaze, naked and ready for him. And then he turned, taking me in, his big cock swinging between his legs.Â
“I thought I told you not to come back in here again,” he sneered, soaping his big cock gratuitously in front of me.
I made no response, my eyes locked on him.
“You’re not gonna give up until if fuck you,” he spat. “Is that right?”
Once again, I said nothing, my eyes holding his gaze.
“Get the fuck in here,” he acquiesced, pushing open the shower door, his cock lengthening and thickening before my eyes. “You tell nobody about this, you get me?”
“Yes,” I nodded, joining him in the shower, our bodies inches apart, his hard cock pointed at me, taunting me. I reached for it, but before I could take him in my grasp, Greg spun me around, pushing me up against the tile wall.
“I only know one way to fuck another dude,” he hissed, his soapy finger probing my hole, opening me up for him, “and that way is rough. So I hope you’re able to take it.”
I nodded my assent, my hands braced against the tile wall as Greg withdrew his finger. Almost immediately, in less time than it took for me to take a breath, Greg shoved his big dick up my ass, his hands gripping into my shoulders for purchase. The pain was off the charts. I’d never been fucked before, having only fingered my ass sometimes while jacking off. There was no comparison.
“You feel that?” he demanded, his breath hot at my ear as I winced and gritted my teeth. “That’s what it feels like to have a big dick up your ass. And now you’re gonna feel what it’s like to get fucked.”
Wrapping his muscular arms around me, his meaty, hairy pecs rubbing against my back, he unleashed his furry on my ass. He pounded me relentlessly, his big cock delving in and out of me, forcing my virgin sphincter to stretch for him. The initial pain began to subside, my hole finally giving up the fight, giving way to waves of pleasure.Â
“I thought of you last night,” Greg confessed, “when I was fucking your mom. I imagined her pussy was your tight hole, my big dick abusing your cunt. Did you hear me fucking her?”
“Yes,” I nodded.Â
“And did you like it?” he persisted. “Did you like listening to me fuck her—imagining that you were taking this big dick?”
“Yes,” I admitted. “It made me want your big dick even more.”
“And now it’s yours,” Greg grunted. “Fuck—you’ve got a tight cunt.”
“Tighter than my mom’s pussy?”
“Fuck yes,” he laughed. “But maybe not for long.”
Suddenly, he spun me around, forcing me to bend over, my hands on my knees, my face inches from the spray of hot water from the shower head. The angle had changed, his big dick sliding even further into my depths. Christ, it felt good.
“You’re so fucking deep,” I gasped, my eyes rolling back into my head.
“I’m past your inner-sphincter,” he informed me. “You’ll find that not many men will be able to do that for you,” he gloated.
I could have stayed that way all day—Greg’s dick routing my depths, pummeling me over and over. The feel of his hairy body against mine, his balls slapping against my hole over and over, was incredibly erotic. I didn’t want it to end, but Greg’s balls had other plans.
“You ready for my cum?” he announced urgently, his cock swelling inside me. “You ready for me to breed this hole?”
“Yes,” I exclaimed, my sphincter tightening around the base of his cock instinctively, desperate to milk his load into me. “Fucking seed my hole.”
“Here it comes,” he warned, pounding me even harder. “Fucking get ready for it—FUCK—SHIT.”
Greg’s big dick blasted inside of me, his body nearly forcing me into the tile wall as he unloaded. With his cock throbbing in my depths, I could feel a sudden warmth emanating from deep within my bowels. “FUCK,” he continued to grunt repeatedly until his balls were finally emptied.Â
“We’re done here,” Greg announced, pulling out of me abruptly, his load gushing from my wrecked hole and washing down the shower drain. “I gotta get ready for work.”
Greg seemed back to his normal self at dinner that night, talking about his work day with mom and me, cutting up with a few jokes. He didn’t fuck mom that night, only the sounds of his snoring emanating from their room, but I tried not to read too much into that.Â
The next morning, lying in my bed, I heard Greg turning the water on in his shower, the water coursing through the pipes. I decided not to ambush him again. I had gotten what I wanted—his big dick up my ass—and knew that I shouldn’t delude myself into thinking it would be a regular thing.
Suddenly, Greg appeared in my doorway. A towel was wrapped around his waist, straining to contain a raging boner. “What the fuck are you waiting for, Jason? An engraved invitation?” he barked. “Get your ass in the shower. I need to dump my morning load.”
Stories are fiction and intended for readers 18 and up. All characters are assumed to be legal, consenting adults.
