Frank Johnson was not the friendliest of neighbors, but the guy was hot as fuck. He was blue collar; he worked hard managing construction projects all across town. Every night I’d hear his truck roar into the driveway next to mine. If I could get to a window in time I’d watch him grab his lunch pail and hard hat before he disappeared into his house.
Frank mostly kept to himself. It was rare to catch him out front unless he was coming home or mowing the lawn. But from the second floor bedroom in the back of my house I could sometimes catch him out back, enjoying a cigar on his patio.
Grindr showed me there was a hot DL guy within 300 feet. 41, 190 pounds of solid muscle, photo of naked torso and no face. It had to be him. The rest of the neighborhood was a bunch pasty retirees. But Frank never looked at my profile and he never responded to my messages (“Hey guy, want some head?”) He ignored me on the app as much as he did in real life.
Maybe because I was only 18. Maybe because I was too openly gay, a skinny kid with frosted hair and a rainbow sticker on my car. Frank was the opposite of that. He was masculine, mature and muscled, he oozed testosterone. Of course he had tons of options available.
I should have just let it go. And yet. He was all I thought about.
Whenever I heard his truck pull up in the driveway, I’d take my place at the bedroom window upstairs. It was the perfect angle to peer into his back patio. I asked my dad to trim the tree branches so the cover didn’t get too thick and obscure the view.
Most nights he’d stay inside and there would be nothing to see. But when the weather was good he’d be out there within half an hour, feet up on the table, kicking back with a beer and a cigar.
I’d watch him and stroke myself while he sipped and smoked. I swooned at the bulge in his bicep whenever he reached for his beer. I noted the authoritative grip he kept on the cigar. I watched sensuous curls of smoke rise from his mouth. When the stogie got down to the nub I knew he was nearly done. I’d pull harder and faster and let the cum fly. Frank was a more reliable release than anything on Pornhub.
I longed for contact—of some kind, any kind. But like I said, he kept to himself. There would be no interaction unless I forced it.
Eventually I did.
One summer evening I walked over there. I let myself in through the side gate. I called out “Hello?” to make it clear this was a social call. He was the kind of guy who would crush someone he thought was breaking and entering.
“Yeah?” Frank called out. I rounded the corner and came into view.
“Um, hi. I’m your neighbor. Jeremy.”
“I know. What do you want?”
“Sorry to bother you. But you seemed like you’d know. Are these any good?” I handed over a package of 5 premium cigars. I ordered them online and they cost my entire paycheck. But of course I didn’t know what I was doing; price was the only indicator I had to go by. So I bought the best, hoping to impress him.
“Any good? Yeah, these are excellent. What’s a kid like you doing with a bunch of cigars? I’d figure you’d be vaping some fruity flavored nicotine or weed or some bullshit like that. I wouldn’t have pegged you as someone who’d go for a stogie.”
“Yeah, I’ve never done it before. But I always thought it looked cool. Sometimes your smoke drifts up to my room and I smell it and look down. It looks good, like something I should try.”
“The cigar looks good or you think I look good?” He had me. Shit. I stumbled for words.
“Sorry, sir. I just thought that maybe you could show me how.”
“Sir?” He chuckled. “OK. Sir. Fine, kid. I’ll show you how. Sit down.”
I took a seat opposite him. I felt wobbly.
“Your parents gonna mind you smoking?”
“Maybe. But I do what I want.”
“Haha, big man.”
“It’s true.” I loaded my gaze with as much meaning as I could muster. His eyes had a glimmer of something, maybe recognition. Then his expression went back to business.
“You got a cutter?”
“A what? Oh. No.”
“Here. Take mine.” He handed over a metal contraption. My fingers tingled where his touched mine.
I fumbled with the cutter, trying to figure it out. I got the blade open and put it against the tip.
“Not that much! It will unwrap if you cut it that deep. Just take a little slice. It’s a circumcision, not a castration.” I blushed at my error and even more so at the graphic metaphor. “Here,” he continued. “Give it to me and I’ll show you how.”
Frank took the cigar and the cutter. He told me about the head and the foot of the cigar and he demonstrated how to align the cutter and take a little off the head. “Just enough to open up some airflow.” He grabbed a torch lighter and showed me how to toast the foot. The he handed the cigar and lighter back to me.
“Hold it in your mouth and give it some flame. Suck in and take steady puffs to get it going.” I did, and clouds of smoke billowed out. I tried not to cough.
“Here, let me see.” He examined the glowing foot. “It’s a little uneven, but not too bad. Use the lighter to touch it up. You want it to burn evenly.”
I did as instructed and evened things out.
“Take the smoke into your mouth. Taste it. Roll it around. Then exhale. Don’t get it into your lungs. You don’t inhale a cigar, you just enjoy it.”
I copied his moves. I was nervous but it got easier as I went along. I began to relax into it.
“You like it?”
“Yeah. It’s nice.”
“Great. But that’s not what you really came for is it?”
I was afraid to answer.
“I’ve seen you watching me. And I’ve seen your pings on the app.”
I was caught. But I was determined to be brave.
“Yeah, but you never respond.”
He sighed. “Teen pussy is just too much trouble.”
“I’m old enough.”
“It’s not that.”
“You don’t find me attractive.”
“Look, I use that app for fucking. I only date women. Maybe I fuck the occasional dude too. But I don’t shit where I eat.”
“I’m not looking to date. And it’s not like I would tell anyone.”
“Young guys are full of hormones and that’s great. But you’re all full of crazy emotions too. I don’t need that.”
“Seriously, man. I’m not on Grindr for dates. I’m there for cock. And I’m no trouble at all. Just an easy BJ when you need it. Blow and go.”
“That right? You’re not gonna fall in love—get obsessed like the others?”
“Of course not. You’re old enough to be my Dad.”
“That’s usually the worst situation. Another kid with Daddy issues.”
“Please, sir. You can just sit back. Enjoy your cigar. Puff away while I take care of you.”
I set down my cigar and got on my knees.
He took a long pull on his cigar and breathed out a cloud. It washed over my face.
“Please.” I went for his belt. I got it partway open before he put a hand on my head to stop me.
“If I let you suck me, it’s just this one time. Don’t get any ideas.”
“None.”
“OK. It’s still a bad idea. But my girl is out of town and I’m a little pent up. So let’s see what you can do.”
I opened his pants the rest of the way and took out his cock. It was half-hard but a few strokes brought it to full mast. I licked the tip and swirled my tongue around the head.
“Nothing fancy. Just suck it.”
OK. I got to work.
Frank’s dick was nice and big; it protruded powerfully from his big body. I sucked eagerly while he puffed on his cigar. Smoke drifted down. The smell was strong. It kind of stunk but it made me giddy too.
Frank’s crotch reeked of sweat from the day’s labor. That funk, added to the smoke, made me even dizzier. This was so different and so much more satisfying than fooling around with the boys at school. Those guys smelled of soap, they squirmed with inexperience. In contrast, Frank sat back and radiated quiet power while I worked on him.
Frank was in no rush, casually lounging in the chair while I worked away down below. I had him good and hard but he was so relaxed about it that I worried I wouldn’t be able to make him blow.
But when his cigar got down to the nub he pronounced himself ready.
“Work it hard now, kid. I want to hear you gag. You should have spit running down your face.” I increased my efforts. “Yeah, like that. Now grab my balls and squeeze ‘em good.”
I took Frank’s direction. I was eager to fulfill his wishes. I wanted to prove I could get him off. I needed his load down my throat.
“Get ready, kid.” He grabbed my ears and held me in place while he forced his load down my throat. I struggled to swallow it all but I was determined to keep up. His seed gushed out and I swallowed it down.
Whew. I was exhausted. I pulled my sweaty, spit-soaked face off his cock.
“That was good, kid. Get up.”
I stood up and looked at him. Frank seemed calm and satisfied. He took a last puff on his cigar and set it down. He breathed a long stream into my face.
“You should go.”
“OK.”
I didn’t know what I could have hoped for. I wanted to touch him somehow, have him touch me. But that seemed out of the question. I wouldn’t push things too far. I needed him to be open to doing it again.
“These are for me, right?” He held up the remaining cigars from the five pack.
“Sure, of course.”
“I don’t really see you as a cigar guy.”
“I liked it, though.”
He smirked. “I’m sure you did.”
“OK. See you around.”
“You know where I live.”
I did. And I would come again.
***
Wow. I had blown guys before, but they were silly boys. Frank was all man. It was totally different than anything I’d had before, and it was totally hot.
I was still super boned up when I got home. I went up to my room and stroked out a load while I replayed the whole scene in my head. I could still feel him stretching out my mouth, smell his cigar in the air, taste his cum at the back of my throat.
I shot so hard that it sprayed the wall. I left it there to dry. It hardened into a splotchy pattern like some kind of lasting testament to Frank.
I had to do it all again, and soon. I watched for Frank’s truck every day. But all week long I never saw him come out back. And he continued to be unresponsive on Grindr.
I ordered more cigars. It had worked last time.
I walked over with a 10-pack of some very expensive smokes and rang the bell. No response, even though I knew he was there. I pulled a pen from my pocket and scribbled a note. “I know I have more to learn. Can we…?”
Two days went by. Nothing. I went to the cigar store again. I left Frank another expensive care package. I’d do whatever it took.
A few days later I was in the driveway, trying to get my car to start. The engine wouldn’t turn over. Frank walked out in his construction gear, ready for the day. He was going to his truck but he stopped upon hearing my pathetic attempts to get the car started.
He came over and rapped on the window. I rolled it down.
“Car won’t start?”
“Yeah, and I’m gonna be late for school.”
“Want me to take a look?”
“Would you?”
“Pop the hood.”
I did as he asked. Frank checked out the engine. After a few minutes he came back.
“Starter cable was loose. I fixed it. Try it again.” I gave the engine some gas and turned the key. The engine hummed to life. I breathed a sigh of relief.
“Oh my God, thanks.”
“Yeah, sure. You’d better get off to school.”
“OK, yeah.”
“And hey, save your money. You don’t need to be buying me cigars.”
“I wanted to.”
“But why?”
“Look, that day…it was really great. I’m still thinking about it. Do you think we can do it again? I mean, you can light up one of those cigars and I can…just take care of you.”
“Didn’t I say it would be just the one time?”
“I know. But wasn’t it good?”
“I don’t need any complications in my life.”
“It won’t be complicated. You come home from from work. Relax with your cigar. I suck you off. No big deal. It’s totally chill.”
“You promise that’s it? You’re not gonna get weird on me?”
“No. I promise.”
“OK. Come over tonight.”
***
I did come over that night. And the next. And the next. We fell into a routine. Simple blow and go.
I was thrilled Frank had accepted the arrangement. But really, who wouldn’t? It was no stakes, no strings blowjobs on the regular. That was every guy’s dream situation.
And once he got comfortable with it, I knew I could up the ante.
***
One night after draining his nuts, when he was lounging in post-orgasm glow and puffing contentedly on his cigar, I took his still-hard dick in my hand and starting jacking it again.
“You should try fucking me.”
“No thanks. I’m good with what we’ve been doing. Besides, I told you. Teen pussy is trouble.”
“You sure?” I still had a pool of cum in my mouth that I hadn’t fully swallowed. I spit it into my hand and wiped it down the length of his cock.
“Yeah.”
I stood up and faced away from him. I dropped my pants and pressed my bare ass against his slick cock. I ground back against it.
“Think of how good it would feel. How tight I am. Your cock would really tear me apart.”
“You’re trouble, kid,” Frank muttered. But he didn’t push me away. I continued grinding. I pushed his cock into the crack between my butt cheeks.
“Think how good it would feel if you just pushed it in,” murmured.
“No fucking way. You’d like it too much.”
“Fuck yeah, I would. It would be amazing to feel you fill me up.”
“That’s the problem, kid. It’s too much. Way too intimate. You’d develop feelings. Get obsessed. I’m not willing to do that.”
“Let’s take the risk.”
“No.”
“You can come inside me. Fuck me raw and blast away. Preg me up. Except I can’t get pregnant, so you can keep doing it, as much as you want.”
I sat back and tried to get him inside of me. The sensation had really worked me up. I got his head in a little bit. My winking hole worked to pull it in.
Frank stiffened. He pushed me away.
“No. It’s too much. You need to go.”
“OK. But think about it. Anytime. Come over in the middle of the night and fuck me in my bed if you want.”
He didn’t say anything in response. But his cock was so stiff, all purple and straining. So I knew he was thinking about it.
***
Frank didn’t respond the next time I came over. He let the doorbell ring and ring.
Same thing the next two days. I resumed buying cigars and leaving them for him. He continued to ignore me.
About a week later I smelled smoke wafting up through my window. I went next door. I skipped the doorbell and let myself in through the side gate.
Frank was on the patio with his cigar and a beer. And a girl. Some blonde thing drinking a glass of rosé.
“Hello,” I called out.
“Who is that?” she whispered to Frank.
“Nobody. Just the neighbor kid.” He glared at me. “I’ll get rid of him.”
He put the cigar in his jaw and stood up out of the chair. He strode over. His big body towered over me. He drew on the cigar and breathed out in my face.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“You’ve been ignoring me.”
“I have. Take the hint.”
“When can I see you again?”
“No promises. This is casual, remember? Now get out of here before you fuck things up with my girl.”
It suddenly occurred to me that I had some power over him too.
“She looks pretty,” I remarked.
“She is.”
“Bet my ass is tighter than that loose old pussy, though.”
“Get the fuck out.”
“I will. I will. When we set a plan to get together again.”
“No.”
“Then I’m staying. Plenty of stories I could tell her.”
“Fine. On Wednesday. If you leave right now.”
“Sure thing. See you Wednesday,” I whispered.
I went over to the gate to let myself out. Frank went back to the girl.
“What did he want?”
“Nothing. He thinks I owe him for some lawn work. I’ll settle up with him later.”
He would. I smiled to myself as I closed the latch.
***
On Wednesday Frank’s truck never pulled in the drive. His house stayed dark.
I fumed. I took my anger out on the house. I slammed doors, broke a dish that I was washing.
Frank had broken his promise.
***
I found Frank the next day. He was pummeling concrete with a jackhammer. I watched the veins in his arms bulge out. He broke up the cement and the rest of the crew carted it away.
He glanced up and saw me but went back to his work.
I sat down waited, watching from behind my sunglasses.
After ten minutes he put down the equipment and said something to the foreman. He came over.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
“I brought you some water. It’s hot out.”
I handed the bottle to him. He glared at me, but he took the water. He gulped it down.
“How did you find the job site?”
It wasn’t hard. Just a little Air Tag tucked underneath the bumper of his truck.
“Can we talk?”
“Not here. Over there.”
I followed him into the trailer. The door closed behind. I sank to my knees and fumbled with his belt.
“Shit, what are you—“ He reached over my head and locked the door.
“You owe me.”
I took him in my mouth.
“I don’t owe you anything,” he mumbled. But he let me suck anyway.
I got him good and hard—wet. Then I stood up and dropped my pants.
I lined up my ass with his cock. I worked his dick along my crack, squeezing it between my butt cheeks. His flared cockhead rubbed against my pucker.
“Jeremy, we are not doing this.”
“Think of how tight it will be,” I whispered. I reached around to grab his cock. I pushed it against my hole. “Feel how hungry it is for you.”
“You’re sick, kid. This has to stop.”
“It can’t stop until I have your cum inside me.”
“Dammit!” He slammed me against the wall. “I said Stop. Is this is what you want? Are you trying to piss me off?”
His anger didn’t deter me; it invigorated me. I pushed back, meeting his body with mine. I let my hole pulsed against his cockhead. It was signaling. He had to enter.
“This has to stop.” He put a hand around my neck. I whimpered.
“It can stop after.”
“Fuck you.”
He pushed in. Hard. I nearly blacked out from the entry. Or maybe it was from his hand squeezing my neck. Either way, I was l was breached. Speared. I felt lightheaded. Ecstatic.
He began thrusting. Frank pushed his cock in and out. He pounded my body against the wall. I cried out and he pushed in harder. His cock assaulted my hole. I could feel it stretching and splitting. There were little stings of pain along with that delicious feeling of being fully filled and totally fucked.
“You dirty little fuck.” He spat the words.
“Give it me. As hard as you want. Don’t stop until you’re exploding inside of me.”
I put my hands against the wall to steady myself.
He grunted and fucked harder. He took my hands off the wall and held them behind my back. His grip was tight enough for bruises to form; I’d see them later in the day.
Frank pulled me off the wall and pushed my head down, making me hinge my hips. My ass opened wider. He fucked deep and hard. My head banged against the wall. I didn’t care. I could take an aspirin later.
Frank gave no warning when he shot. He just unloaded inside me, blasting me with three or four long jets of cum. Then he let go and I crumpled to the floor.
Frank tried to pull up his pants but I scrambled up before he could finish it. I was eager to clean any traces of cum from his cock. He slapped me away.
“Get dressed. And get out.”
“I’m tighter than she is, I bet.”
He looked down, like he didn’t know what to make of me. He shook his head. He turned away and pulled up his pants.
“Yeah, it was tight,” he admitted under his breath.
I smiled to myself and pulled up my pants. I couldn’t wait to get home and jack off.
***
The next time I came over, I was sure we’d do it again. We had had a great time. Frank had come like a fire hose. Teenage ass had won out.
But it didn’t go like that.
“No,” he told me when I came into the yard and sank to my knees. “Get up. Last time was the last time. I told you teen pussy is too much trouble.”
“I’m no trouble at all. I’m just here for you to get your rocks off.”
“You’re obsessed.”
Is it obsession to want cock? To need it so badly you would do anything? That’s passion, not obsession. It’s dedication. It’s commitment.
And he was breaking the commitment to our little arrangement.
He threw me out. The next time I stopped by I found Frank had put a lock on the gate. I pounded on the door. There was no response other than his cigar smoke rising up and over from the other side of the fence.
***
I went out to the street when I heard all the trucks pulling up. There were sirens and flashing lights. Flames licked up the side of Frank’s house. The air crackled and everything glowed red and orange.
Firemen battled the flames with long hoses. I watched for nearly an hour as they worked to put the blaze out.
I kept my eye on one guy in particular: “Ruiz” according to the name on the back flap of his fire jacket. He was tall and strong, and his arms bulged as he hoisted equipment and managed the high pressure hose. His face ran with sweat and glowed orange in firelight. He saw me staring.
When the fire was finally out, he came over.
“Any idea how this happened? Did you see or hear anything?”
“Probably an accident, sir. I know that the guy who lives here smokes a lot. He probably left one burning.”
“OK, thanks. I gotta get back to the station. Write up the report. Tell your neighbor to contact us when he’s back.” He handed me his card with the station’s phone number.
“Sure thing,” I told him with a smile. “I have an eye on the neighborhood. l’ll contact you if I find out anything.”
I put the card in my picked and gave Ruiz a smile. I’d definitely be going to the station tomorrow.
End Part 1
The story continues on my Patreon! Find parts 2, 3, and 4 there…
"Buster had been helping Chester all day as he drove the herd back to Dick's ranch. It was so hot that they'd soon had to take off their shirts, and Buster had spent the day discreetly admiring Chester's hairy torso… He imagined him almost naked, wearing only his Stetson and chaps…"
“How was your flight, Martin?” my dad asked as we pulled out of Miami International, his arm propped against the car window while he glanced in the rear-view mirror. Jesus, Dad looked hot. I had never seen him like this. The shirt undone to reveal his hairy chest. The golden tan. The scruffy beard. He even had a tattoo on his forearm. I wanted to joke: Who are you, and what have you done with my father? And then ask him to fuck me.
Looking back on it, I always knew my parents didn’t have a good marriage. I often blamed it on Dad’s busy law practice, but the real reason was apparent when I left for college. Dad promptly served my mom with divorce papers, resigned from his law firm, packed his bags, moved to Miami, and shacked up with a guy named Kevin.
“You’re gonna love Kevin,” Dad assured me, pulling on his Ray-Bans while merging onto I-95. “Kevin is . . . uh . . . a lot like you.”
“Mom says Kevin is my age?” I asked trying to hide my sarcasm.
“Almost,” Dad coughed. “He’s young like you. But he makes me happy.” And then trying to change the subject, Dad asked, “What about you? You getting a lot of pussy at school?”
“Yeah,” I replied, looking out the passenger window to avoid Dad’s gaze. “Lots of pussy.”
The truth was that I had been getting a lot of cock during my first year of college. The proverbial apple had not fallen far from the tree. The irony of being in the closet around my newly “out and proud” father was not lost on me. Yet I wasn’t ready for him to know that I was also gay. I needed to keep it to myself for a little longer. It wouldn’t be much longer.
“Great to meet you, Martin,” Kevin smiled, extending his hand when we arrived to the oceanfront condo he shared with my dad in Bal Harbour. “Your Dad talks about you all the time.” My jaw dropped. Kevin wasn’t just “a lot” like me, as Dad had told me. Kevin could be my fucking twin. It was like looking in a mirror. I felt like I’d been sucked into some fucked up version of The Parent Trap, but with one of us fucking the hot dad. And it wasn’t me.
“Let me show you to the guest room,” Dad announced, pulling me away from the mirror version of me. “You can wash up for dinner. I’m taking you and Kevin to Joe’s Stone Crab.”
Dinner was nice. I was prepared to hate Kevin, this proxy of me whom Dad was fucking, but I couldn’t dislike him. Kevin turned out to be a really nice guy who was actually a few years older than me. A law student at the University of Miami, Kevin wasn’t just some gold-digging boy toy. And from what I saw at dinner, Kevin worshipped my dad. But I couldn’t shake my jealousy toward him. A lot of gay boys secretly lust after their fathers, their first example of masculinity, and I was no exception. And this new version of my dad was hot as fuck. I wanted his cock more than ever.
“What do you think of this view of the Atlantic?” Dad asked, opening a bottle of wine for the three of us on the balcony of their twelfth-floor condo after we returned from dinner.
“It’s gorgeous,” I replied, accepting the glass of Malbec that Dad passed to me.
“This one is gorgeous,” Dad cooed, passing a glass to Kevin and kissing him wantonly before me. Jesus, could he not see that Kevin and I look exactly the same? Even the waiter at dinner asked if Kevin was my twin brother.
“Your old man needs to hit the sack,” Dad yawned a bit later after finishing his second glass of wine. “But you two young fellows should stay out here and chat. I want the two most important guys in my life to get to know each other better.”
“When are you gonna tell your dad?” Kevin asked as soon as Dad had left us.
“Tell him what?” I asked, confused.
“That you’re gay,” Kevin clarified. “Don’t deny it, Martin,” he laughed putting up his hand as I began to protest. “I saw the way you were looking at our waiter tonight.” It was true. The waiter had been hot as fuck. “You’re also too hot to be straight,” he joked.
Kevin retrieved another bottle of wine for us, and then I spent the next hour telling him everything about my first year of college. The guy in my dorm who took my virginity. The cruisy bathroom in the basement of the science library where I sucked scores of cock through a gloryhole. The frat parties where I had taken a line of cocks in the house basement. The married professor who fucked me during his office hours. I spared no detail.
“Damn, Martin,” Kevin exclaimed upon hearing it all, but never judging me. “I think your Dad deserves to know your truth . . . but maybe not all of it,” he laughed. I agreed, feeling a sense of camaraderie after baring my soul to Kevin. Though he was fucking my father, he was beginning to feel like the brother I never had, a twin brother to be exact. And my newfound brother was falling asleep in his chair after a fifth glass of wine.
As my doppelgänger Kevin began to snore, lulled by the cool night breeze off the ocean, a twisted plan took shape inside my mind. Could Dad tell the difference between Kevin and me in the dark of night? There was only one way to find out. Leaving Kevin asleep in his balcony chair, I made my way back inside the condo, discovering my dad asleep in bed. A flimsy sheet barely covered his naked body. The room was dark, save for a sliver of moonlight reflecting off the ocean. Pulling off my clothes, I climbed into bed with Dad.
“Mmm. You bad boy,” Dad moaned, awakening to the touch of my hand to his hairy chest, my mouth finding his cock under the sheet. His hands found my head, guiding me to the rhythm he liked, assuming me to be Kevin. “Jesus, that feels good. Christ, you’re hungry for it,” he exclaimed as I bobbed up and down on his thick, eight-incher, his big balls mashing against my chin. But I wasn’t taking this risk to suck a load out of my dad. No. I wanted his cock up my ass, even if he thought I was Kevin.
“Yeah, take this big cock,” Dad moaned as I straddled him, pushing down on him, reveling in the feeling of having my own father’s dick inside me. “You like this cock up your ass?”
“Mmm, hmm,” I affirmed, not wanting to speak further and risk giving up my identity.
“You want my cum?” asked Dad, his hands on my hips, guiding me up and down on his big dick. I made no sound as I leaned forward, bracing myself on his hairy pecs. “Shit, I’m gonna bust,” Dad roared urgently. Instantly, I felt his cock swelling and pulsing, his load warming me from within. “Damn,” Dad exclaimed as I collapsed upon him, his balls fully emptied inside me. Releasing his cock from my wrecked hole, I started to climb off the bed, fearful that Dad would finally realize that I was not Kevin.
“Don’t go. Stay with me,” Dad ordered, pulling me into his arms, my head resting on his hairy chest as I listened to his breathing for several moments. “I’ve wanted that for a long time, Martin,” Dad finally spoke. Fuck. I was busted.
“Wait . . . How did you know?” I stammered, my eyes searching for his in the dark.
“I’ll admit it’s a bit hard to tell you two apart, especially in the dark,” Dad confessed with a laugh. “But I knew you weren’t Kevin when you sat on my cock. Kevin never bottoms. He’s strictly a top.”
“Wait . . . So that means you bottom for Kevin?” I asked, completely surprised that my macho-as-fuck father likes it up the ass.
“That’s right,” Kevin’s voice answered from the darkened doorway. “Your dad loves taking my big cock up his ass.” How long had he been there? As Kevin came toward us, I realized he had stripped naked. Silhouetted in the moonlight was a huge ten-inch cock that swung between his legs. Kevin was clearly different from me in one significant way —several inches to be exact.
“You’re gonna love Kevin’s big dick,” Dad whispered in my ear, cradling me in his arms as Kevin parted my legs and pushed his cock into my used, cummy hole.
Stories are fiction and intended for readers 18 and up. All characters are assumed to be legal, consenting adults.
The guy showed up at my son’s high school team’s wrestling match. He was on the opposing team. I wanted to check his ID but watching him strut around in his unitard with his package hanging heavily between his legs changed my mind. I watched jealously as he man-handled my son and put him in several submissive holds. My only thought was “Fuck I wish that was me instead of my son.”
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