Drake's Fuck Fiction
Pics and stories about jocks, dads, suits, white collar sex, roleplay, celebrity athletes. Scenarios depicted are fiction and role-play. NSFW, for adults only.
Sam is one of my players, and it would take an idiot for someone not to realize he was juicing up. The kid had packed on twenty pounds of muscle over the last three months and kept getting bigger.
The responsible adult in me knew I should discipline the lunkhead for doing steroids. But Sam was hardly a star athlete, and I knew he wasn’t doing this to improve his on-field performance. If anything he was slower and more musclebound in practice. No, the kid was turned on by muscle.
Or maybe he just liked the attention all the bulk got him from his Coach. Lately I was inviting him to use the weight room after hours or to shower in my office after practice. We started with BJs and progressed to quickie fucks at lunchtime. He was starting to sleep over at my place on the weekends.
Last night he was feeling and massaging my arm muscle and rubbing his erection against my hairy leg when he spoke up. “Man, Coach, I love your bulk. Is all this natural?”
"Yessir-ree," I replied, proud of my body and my accomplishments.
Sam’s hand cupped my meaty chest and added. “Cool. If you ever wanna get bigger, though, let me know. I can get some stuff to help you out.”
The responsible adult would have had a conversation with my player right then and there. Instead, I reached down Sam’s muscular back and wedged my hand deep into his butt crack, diddling his still-wet hole.
"You want your coach to get big for you?"
Those were the magic words. The boy’s fantasy handed back to him on a silver platter. Sam hiked his butt against my probing hand. “Fuck yes, sir. That’s be hot.”
Time to crash the lad’s little slumber party…
Just out of college, I was younger than most of the guys at this pool party, and at first I was nervous. Swimsuit optional had become “no swimsuit” and I found myself looking at a crowded pool of muscular naked men. They weren’t all model attractive but they had a relaxed masculine vibe that was a real turn on.
Nervously I slid off my swim trunks and laid back on the lounge chair. Near the pool I could see one of the guys checking me out. He was pointing me out to his friend and boning up looking at my bared body.
A shiver went through my body. It was all so public, and I could see a number of the guys notice the silent sexual communication between me and the guy with the cap.
[Thanks to the hot Exhibition4u for the photo and inspiration: http://exhibition4u.tumblr.com/] exhibition4u
It started off as experimentation, really.
My wife and I are best friends with Mark and Jen and we find ourselves doing everything together. Dinner dates, vacations together, the whole works. Neither couple has kids yet, so we still enjoy our time. Mark and I will go to Cubs games in the city, Jen and Ellen have their girls night out.
It was on one of those weekend when they were out that Mark and I were hanging out, having a couple of beers, watching a hockey game neither of us was all that interested in. We started talking about sex. I complained about not having gotten head in ages.
"Ellen doesn’t go down on you, huh?"
"Nah, she thinks it’s gross. What about Jen?"
"She’ll do it. Not as much as I’d like, though."
We sat in silence for a minute, and I wondered if I should bring it up. What the hell. “You know,” I started, “I knew a guy in my fraternity… he never really said he was gay, but he’d help us guys out from time to time.”
"Yeah?" Mark asked, definitely interested in my story.
Feeling a little more at ease, I continued. “You bet. The guy was awesome, too. Best head I’ve ever gotten, by far. Tim Farrow. I still remember his blow jobs.”
"I’ve often wondered what that would be like. With a guy."
"Giving or receiving?"
"Both, to be honest."
Maybe we were both horny but somehow we talked ourselves into trying. Swapping licks first, then in 69 position. Felt awesome but wasn’t going to get me off. So we decided to alternate. I blew Mark till he came, then he got down between my legs and sucked me to completion.
I thought it would be one-time experiment, but we both wanted more. Pretty soon Mark and I fell into a comfortable groove, getting off with each other whenever the opportunity presented itself. I thought it would feel weird, but it was like the most natural thing in the world. I had a good buddy and was able to get a good blow job on a regular basis.
So we worked our way from oral. Tried fucking. We flipped a coin to see who’d bottom first. I lost and soon my buddy was opening me up with his fingers and then carefully, slowly slipping his cock inside me. It felt tighter than motherfuck, and while I got through the ordeal fine, it wasn’t all that fun for me.
When the tables were turned, on the other hand, Mark took to it like a duck to water. I thought he was telling me it was awesome just to reassure me, but about five minutes of deep strokes of my cock inside his vice-tight ass, his prick started spurting all over the place. “Fuck it out of me, bud!” he cried. And I did, approaching my orgasm close behind.
When we came to and cleaned off, my friend confessed to me that was the most intense orgasm of his life. “Glad I could help out,” I chuckled, running my hands along his smooth, muscular ass cheeks. “If you ever want another go at that, I wouldn’t complain.”
Now, I swear, neither of us can get enough. We’re on vacation, and I find an excuse to get ready while Mark’s taking a shower. As soon as I enter, my buddy is leaning forward and offering his clean, smooth hole for me.
"Think you can go for a quickie, man?" he asks.
When Grandpa asked me to give him a new bar of soap, I never imagined I’d see him with a hard on. When I pulled back the curtain and I saw the thick hard cock between his legs, I gasped. Grandpa just smiled, took the soap from my hand and then guided my hand to his hard cock. I knelt down and proceeded to give Grandpa my first blow job of many to him.
Dave Keller was one of those guys who always try too hard to impress. Puts in extra hours, always in pinstripe suit and tie even on business casual days, always addressing me, his boss, “yes sir.” His coworkers called him Brownie for his brown nose, but I recognized that more than a suck up, Dave just had a primal drive to succeed.
One day when it was just the two of us putting in a late night to finish up a quarterly report, I coaxed Keller to join me in a mutual jerk off session. “Damn, boss, this is fun,” he proclaimed as we enjoyed a nice, gradual beat on our meat.
"You like letting loose, Keller," I said, loosening my tie and really getting into this scene.
"You bet." It was like he was mulling something over. "Boss… sir…. can I ask you something."
"Shoot, Keller." I was edging, slowly, steadily toward orgasm.
"You like my dick, sir?"
"Yep. You got a nice one, Keller. Wanna bring it a little closer, let your boss get a taste?"
Coach P and I got really close my senior year. It was like he was my father figure, older brother, and best friend all rolled into one. An authority figure I could share my deepest thoughts and secrets with. Coach took me under his wing and my playing on the field improved five times over.
Later on I would figure out he just went for the player with the biggest, fattest cock. And mine’s thick, real thick, most guys balk at being able to take it. The guys on the team nicknamed me Anaconda. Coach started calling me that, too.
Saturday afternoons, Coach would take me golfing or out on his boat, then we’d head back to his place where he’d strip down. “You up for a fuck, Bryson?” he’d casually ask. I’d eagerly pull out my erect cock and start to get behind Coach.
"Wait a sec, Jeff," Coach P said, placing a hand on my chest to stop me. "Let me finger myself first. Get ready for you. Every time it feels like you’re stuffing a baseball bat up me."
I watched enraptured as the man diddled and stretched his man hole. There was something so wanton and shameless about the spectacle, my cock grew harder and wetter.
"You like that, huh?" Coach observed with a smile.
"Yeah," I replied, feeling like it wasn’t gonna take long to shoot.
"All right, Anaconda," he finally said. "Fuck your coach."
With any other guy, your the one in control…the alpha calling the shots…but not with him…
When he purrs in your ear, who’s yer daddy, champ?…your knees get a little weak…your head tilts involuntarily against his cheek…your arms drop to your side…and you whisper obediently…you are, sir…
I didn’t have the heart to tell Carter his bonus didn’t depend on his blow jobs. I thought he knew I was joking when I’d tossed out the idea. But he went down on me right then and there and I was treated to the best BJ imaginable. So here we are three years later and the guy is still chowing down on my prick like his compensation depended on it.
My dad turns 50 next year and lately all he can talk about is getting back in shape. First it was taking up the weight lighting regimen he had playing college ball. Next it was half-marathons. Now he’s doing P90X religiously. Best part is every night he texts me a photo of his progress, baring his torso and sometimes his whole body so I can see how toned and ripped he’s becoming. “Whaddya think Matt?”
I quickly text back a reply. “Looking awesome Dad” and unzip to pull out my fast-hardening dick.
My biggest surprise when I got to university was seeing how much a cockhound my older brother had become. Dan and I had fooled around before but he suggested I was about to have the weekend of my life that sunny Friday when he drove to pick me up from my dorm.
He drove us to the suburbs where a divorced cop was hosting a poolside orgy. I thought that was pretty cool, and eagerly stripped down my shorts to join in the fun. Little did I know Dan was gonna be the star. He gave that trademark dopey laugh and knelt down, ready to see if he could top his previous deepthroating record. Older guys, young guys, hung ones, thick ones, short stubby ones. They all walked up and took their turn on my bro’s talented mouth.
I could swear I could see his belly swell with seed the more he drank.
I was 18, just graduated high school, and probably not good for much other than football, but Dad’s friend owned a landscaping business and pulled some strings to get me a summer job. The work was hard and I can’t say I was glad to come home sore in almost every muscle of my body every night. But it felt good to have a paycheck for the summer.
Besides, there were perks. Tim Stearns, to be exact. He was my boss on most of the jobs, a fit 32 year old man who could be gruff when he needed to be but mostly loved joking off with the other guys. We hit it off immediately. I think I reminded Stearns of the jock he was in high school and he, well, he could just crack me up.
It was about three weeks into the summer when Tim and I first fooled around. We’d gone over to his place for some beers after work on Friday and after a few the conversation turned to sex. He asked if I’d ever had my asshole licked. I said no, and that seemed to egg him on even more. “Luke, buddy, it’s awesome. Most incredible feeling in the world, really.” Turns out Stearns was an addict to getting rimmed. He couldn’t find girls to do it, but turns out lots of gay dudes would do it. Tim even let them fuck him if that was part of the bargain.
All the talk boned me up and sure enough we ended up stripping off and going to his bedroom, where I ate out his hairy hole and then fuck myself to a quick 1-2-3 orgasm inside his man hole. I left whistling that night and Tim and I were fast friends after that.
Only the casualness of our first few fucks has gotten a new intensity. Like we both need it. We’ll show up at a job and not even twenty minutes into it, Tim’s whispering in my ear. “Wanna go inside and have a little fun on our coffee break?”
"Unh, fuck," I groan, grinning but rolling on the pleasure of beating off next to my big brother. "Good shit, huh?"
We’re watching a video of me fucking one of my girl fuckbuddies. “Yeah, buddy,” he says. “Good fuckin’ shit. You landed a nice one, huh?”
I keep smiling. “You know it,” I say. “And I learned from the best.”
"Damn right you did." He pounds on his dick like he’s mad at it. "Gotta say, bro… you’re good at what you do."
"What’s that?" I ask, amused.
"You’re good at fuckin’," he says. "It’s fucking hot, not gonna lie. You’re not as big as me, but damn…"
”’Damn’ you like watching it?” I ask with a chuckle. He grits his teeth and nods. “Glad to get you off, bro. Glad to get you off.”
I guess it was weird that a high school jock would be good friends with a 49 year old retired cop, but I spent my summer afternoons up at Mr. Dawson’s lake house and he seemed to like the company. It was like each of us could just be ourselves around each other - I didn’t have to pretend to be a pussychaser and Mr. D could let down his stern figure of authority facade. It was just two guys revealing our selves to one another.
It was a slow day fishing, and I could tell Mr. D was throwing wood. As I saw his rod poke up in his shorts, he seemed embarrassed. “You don’t mind, do you? I’ve not fucked in days.”
"Nah, Mr. D," I said. "Actually, you got a pretty cool dick."
Never let it be said that flattery didn’t work on Dawson. The man smiled and seemed to get of his normal confidence back. He stood up and pulled his shorts down mid-thigh. “Ya really think so Connelly?”
"Come over here, Mr. D. Let me take care of that puppy for ya."
We were both sitting around, stoned and bored and I was bitching about my girlfriend, well ex-girlfriend as of several hours before. And Dylan is always the positive type so he was trying to tell me how it was technically a good thing, I was a single guy now, I could play the field do whatever the fuck I wanted to do, be as big a slut as I wanted. Which made me smile and made my cock a little hard. And I was like “I’m ready for it,” and he was like “Did you ever fuck a guy in the ass?” Which wasn’t a totally surprising question coming from him cause I’d heard that he fooled around with dudes. “I have no idea how I’d even go about that,” I said and he got this big smile on his face and said all you had to do is use your tongue first. And I got so turned on it was crazy, like the idea had never occurred to me but all the sudden… So he drops his pants and bends over and I swear I never noticed what a sweet little ass he had. And the fact that I was gonna get to stick my dick in there… I got my face up to it and it looked even better up close, so I went in for a lick and he just moaned like *whoa* and my cock was so fucking hard. I kept licking and it just got better and I knew as of that moment I’d found a side of myself I never guessed existed.
Brent stalked up to Craig and shoved his legs down tight.
"Need help loosening up?" he rasped harshly.
Craig recovered from his surprised quickly and smiled. ”Ha, ha … sure. Although I think you already did that for—”
"Shut up." Brent was not smiling back. His eyes darted around nervously at other members of team preparing for the game.
Craig’s smile wavered. He’d suspected something like this might happen. ”Aw … what’s wrong?” He shifted his feet to rest them between Brent’s thighs.
Now it was Brent’s turn to … waver.
"Stop it," he growled, trying to shake off Craig’s feet discretely. "You say anything about last night to anyone and I’ll—"
His sentence ended in a squeak as Craig lightly toe-tugged at Brent’s package. Craig kept his smile steady, staring deep into Brent’s eyes.
Brent blinked and glanced around before refocusing his glare on Craig. ”Stop it!” he hissed. ”I mean it: one word, and I break your bones.”
Craig smiled sweetly and batted his eyes. ”Aw, I wouldn’t tell,” he whispered. He ever-so-lightly massaged the package between his toes. ”I wouldn’t want to ruin what we have.”
"We don’t have anything!" Brent hissed. He looked up again, concerned a teammate might have noticed. Some players were starting to jog on field. ”It was a one time thing!”
Craig could feel the growing stiffness, even through his shoes.
"No," he whispered. "It wasn’t."
"Why don’t you take them off?" Dad said.
We were spending my winter break in the Caribbean and were now on a deserted beach.
"What?" I wasn’t sure if I was hearing him right.
"Take off your board shorts Mike." His voice was now quiet but firm, and even the tone made me chub up a little. "I want to see your body."
"Cmon Dad… out here?"
"You weren’t so shy last night."
I blushed a little, even with my slight sunburn. Two months away from my father had made me super-horny and our first night on the island, I’d been the aggressor, peeling off my clothes and getting on all fours on our hotel bed. I’d begged Dad to mount me, and damnit the man had expertly fucked four loads out of me before he allowed himself his release, deep inside me.
As my father stared at me intently now, I got the sense he wanted to make up for the three orgasms he was behind in the count. Casually, he slipped down his swim trunks. His cock hung heavy and full and was starting to fill out and firm up. Dad’s a big guy and I never grew tired of watching my old man get a woody. Nice, thick uncut tool that grew long and fat and always seemed weighed down by the size.
It had a way of persuading me. I reached down and started unlacing my trunks.
"That’s it, sport." By now, he slowly stroked his rod and I could see the pearly sap glisten at the tip in the bright sun. "Show daddy what you got."
"Yessir," I muttered and pulled down the swimsuit and let Dad see my own erection. Almost a copy of his: just as long but thinner, cut, and not as hairy around the balls.
"Nice," he purred. After a second of us staring at each other Dad made another command. "On your stomach, son. Face down on the towel."
My heart was beating fast now, and I looked around the beach once more to make sure the coast was clear. No one for miles. Hurriedly, I flipped over, feeling the sun on my bare buns and well-lotioned back.
Not for long. Dad crawled on top, his mass and heat and hard muscle pressed against mine. I could feel his heavy breathing on my neck and his slick cock in my crack. “Hold still, Matt,” he muttered and soon my pucker was getting breached by his dadcock.
That fuck was silent and intense. It didn’t take long for my hole to get used to that prick or for Dad to work up into a steady, hard thrust. Before I knew it, I heard him choke back some grunts and then cry out a loud “Motherfuck!” as he ejaculated deep inside me. I was primed pretty good and the idea he was getting off sent me over the edge, spattering splooge onto the beach towel.
We uncoupled and took a dip in the sea to cool off and wash the remants of sex off our bodies. We didn’t bother to put our suits on for the rest of the week.
I felt like the cock of the walk dating Mitch, am MLB pitcher having a standout rookie year. I’d known the guy since his college days and even managed to get my job to transfer me to be in Mitch’s new city when he signed. Maybe because I was a little older or a regular 9-to-5 guy instead of a fame seeker, he felt he could trust me. And in private he definitely worked out a few of his daddy issues with a powerbottom routine that never got old.
When he started growing that gangly beard out during playoffs, I wasn’t sure I was thrilled, but day 4 I stubled on him in the shower. He was bent over and had lathered up his mancrack. He looked up from his bent over position when he noticed me. “That’s the other superstition I’m starting. Shaving my jockcunt every day I’m in the playoffs.”
I rode that smooth hole for two weeks straight.
I should have known I was playing with fire.
Dad and I hadn’t crossed the line yet and actually touched one another, sexually. It was just a slow and playful escalation, from innocent jokes and horsing around to more brazen displays of our bodies.
Like last Thursday. I’d been barging into the bathroom while Dad was shaving. “Mind if I get a jump on my shower, Dad? I wanna make sure I’m on time for school.”
"Go ahead, Jim," he’d say, leaning over the sink and flicking off the shaving cream into the sink. We’d been doing this routine for a couple of weeks. Only last Thursday as Dad invited me in, he had a stiffie. Full-on dad hardon jutting out from his hairy crotch, which he did nothing to hide.
It was the hottest sight I’d seen but also freaked me out a little. The next week I showered alone.
Till this morning. I barged in again. Dad looked at me and I gave my reassuring small talk. Sure enough his erection roared up and I had to make a decision. I dropped my towel and let my cock swing out, growing firmer by the second. Soon I was as hard as Dad.
"Oh fuck, Jim. Fuck son!" he growled and all of a sudden his prick was spurting out hot white semen, hands free.
Kyle’s a perfect son. Can do no wrong in my eyes, really. Now a senior, Kappa Sig at Auburn, he keeps his grades up and stays out of trouble. Always addresses his elders “yessir” and “yes ma’am.” Studying to go into business management after college.
I tell myself I’m not forcing him. And I’m not. Tell him he doesn’t have to, not for my sake. But as he’s getting on his knees and unbuckling my belt he gives me that trademark grin. “Yessir, I know. But I want to help you out Dad.”
A boy shouldn’t be as good at sucking out a load from a man’s balls as Kyle is. But I’m not gonna complain.
Stan Driscoll was the new athletic director at State. Most of the guys on he team hated him because he was adding a bunch of red tape bullshit to make sure the university stayed in the clear of NCAA rules and because, personality wise, he wasn’t as outgoing as his predecessor. He seemed like a bean-counter accountant more than a cool guy.
Hell, I didn’t care. Driscoll punched every one of my buttons. Tall, well-built with a graying-temples daddy look, he man was my lust object. Icing on the cake was a big fat slab of uncut meat. Each Thursday we had a standing appointment in the deserted lockerroom facilities they were renovating. I’d make out with Driscoll like we were boyfriends while massaging that hard tool.
"I can’t wait much linger Connolly," he finally said, unzipping his suit. "Why don’t you get those cocksucking lips around this bad boy?"
"You really are your father’s son." Jack laughed as I kneeled between his legs.
Aaron gave his uncle a quizzical look, asking “What do you mean?”
"He gave me a blowjob practically every day for four years when we were teenagers," the older man explained.
Shock didn’t begin to capture my reaction. My father, my role-model, had been a cocksucker? I felt disappointed, but at the same time relieved. Knowing that he’d been here on his knees too made me feel closer to him.
Jack grabbed me by the back of my head and shoved my mouth over his cock, grunting, “I had to teach him to do it too.”
After Drill Sargeant Clark left the military, he sought a job in Corporate America. During one of his interviews, he talked up his military experience and the benefits of an employer hiring veterans like himself. The interview seemed to be going well. Then, out of left field, Mike, the interviewer asked him point-blank, “give me one good reason why I should have a Drill Sargeant around the office.”
Clark stood up, ordered Mike to stand up and face his desk.
Intrigued at what Clark was up to, Mike obeyed the order and followed along.
Suddenly and forcefully, Clark unbuckled Mike’s belt, pulled down his dress slacks and tighty-whities. Before Mike could object, Clark bent Mike over his desk, unzipped his own pants, pulled out his massive cock, spit on Mike’s exposed crack, and shoved his rock hard dick deep inside Mike. Under the weight of Clark’s muscular body and powerful thighs drilling his cock balls-deep inside Mike, all Mike could do was clench his tie with his jaws to mute his uncontrollable sounds of pleasure.
Clark could tell Mike had never taken a dick in his ass before, but he sensed that he was enjoying the ride. Clark pounded Mike for a solid 20 minutes, until he couldn’t hold his load in any longer. When Clark shot his ropes of thick, hot cum inside Mike, he could feel Mikes body tense up and spasm while his pleasured moaning, muffled with his tie, climaxed. Then, Clark withdrew his dick and permitted Mike to stand up straight while he began to get dressed. It was then that Clark noticed the large pool of cum Mike left all over his desk. Mike looked down at the pool of cum, then turned and stared at Clark for a few moments while he caught his breath and said, “how soon can you start?”
Rick Carson was a career cop with the city force and while never exactly a ladies man he’d been trying to put his gay sex days behind him ever since he’d left the Navy. But those desires kept creeping back. Slowly at first, but now with a burning intensity.
When he was paired with Adam as his riding partner, the dam burst loose. Every waking moment was consumed with lust for the younger man. And when Adam started boasting about all the married cocksuckers who he’d found on Craigslist, Rick couldn’t take it any more. He leaned over in the parked patrol car and started licking and gnawing at his partner’s packed crotch, right through the uniform.
They had an understand from then on out. Each day before their shift, Adam would swing by Rick’s house. “Ready to make some babies, Carson?” he’d always joke with a push back of his uniform cap, before pushing his way inside.
I slipped the piece of paper into his hand, letting my fingers linger as I slid them along his skin. Our eyes never broke contact. “I’m always happy to entertain fellow sailors,” I’d been out of the Navy for five years and done well for myself: a penthouse condo in Manhattan demonstrated that.
"There’s plenty to drink and I’ll order food, so bring as many of your buddies as you like," I continued. "I’m sure you guys could use…" ,my voice dropping to a suggestive whisper, “…a release.” He glanced around at his fellows suspicious that they’d heard. The sailor wasn’t smiling, but I could hear his heart racing over the clanging of the subway. He’d show.
Back to Todd (not his real name) 35, 5’9” 170. A young professional that will open his schedule up for me to get a massage, cock sucked and fuck. He’s a talented bottom, just ask his husband. DL activity for both of us.
Sept. 8, 2014
Back to Todd. This man, this man can take a pounding. I needed that. I watched three innings of last night’s World Series game just slowly (at times) fucking him. Facing the screen with Todd in various positions under me. Sweating all over him. He’ll recover in a couple of days… Now that is baseball.
October 21, 2014
John and I were in smaller, windowless East Boardroom going over the upcoming quarterly presentation. I don’t know how long my coworker was throwing wood before I noticed, but notice I did. The guy packs a nice thick tool in his slacks. He smirked as he saw the recognition sink in my eyes.
It’s a little annoying to be the gay guy in the office who every married guy thinks will take care of his bone on the side. But John Weston’s cock was the prize catch and would fuel jerk off session for months to come.
I reached up and started unzipping him.
He was too wasted to drive, so I told him to crash on the couch. As I walked by on the way to my room, I was greeted by this view of Pete passed out in the living room. I quickly snapped a picture, texted it to some guys and spit on that ass. I was balls deep and ready to shoot my second load up Pete’s ass when the first of the other guys showed up.
After a night of men cumming in his ass, Pete left without a word.
A week later Pete knocked on my door, “I am too drunk to drive, can I crash on your couch?”
My brother and I were hanging out in the rec room watching TV. We were both home for the holidays, and neither one of us were morning people. It was probably 11 before we got up.
My mind started to wander to sex, as it frequently did. “Want me to blow you?” I ask bluntly.
That got Jeff’s goat. “Christ, Andy, keep it quiet. Mom and Dad will hear you.”
I shrugged my shoulders. “They’ve gone to run errands.”
"Well, why do you have to pester me?"
I was getting mad. “I don’t know why you’re complaining. You’re the one who always gets his rocks off.”
Jeff looked like he was mulling it over. Then he ran his hand over his bulge and down the leg. Slowly he eased up the hem of the shorts so his cock and balls plop out.
I smiled and got to work.
I was helping out my Dad with some yardwork at his beautiful, private farm house when Dad propped up his wheelbarrow and started unbuttoning his shirt. “We’re done for the day,” Dad told me, “take off your clothes here so we don’t track mud into the house. You know how your mother hates that.
"But she’s gone for the weekend," I argued.
"Just take your clothes off, son, we’re both men here," he said with a grin as his jeans dropped to his ankles, revealing his big, hard cock, "nothing we don’t already have."
I smiled back, “I dunno if I have one like that, Dad! Yours is fucking huge!”
He showed off his big guns and said with a serious face, “when I’m done with you, you’ll have one right up that cute little ass of yours. Now get naked, the shower’s big enough for two.”
He didn’t have to tell me again.
I never pictured myself the bottom in a relationship, but Jim had the sex drive of five men and the determination to get in my hole every opportunity. He had little ways of persuading me: a nasty word whispered in my ear, a light but possessive touch of his hand along the back of my neck, a smoldering wordless look. Pretty soon we’d be wrestling on the bed and Jim would be writhing on top of me, kissing my mouth, neck, and everywhere he could reach while pinning my arms back.
Lately he’s started wearing a cock ring. Pretty much all the time. He says he wants to be ready when the occasion strikes, but I think it’s more. A prize ring to show he’s my regular top now.
The day was only half way through, but this stressed out business exec needed some afternoon oral relief.
So I went over to his office and took good care of him, making sure to swallow it all and not spill a drop of his precious man juice.
He said he could always count on me to help get him through the day.
Rick’s not my boyfriend, but more of a fuck bud. But he has a key to my place and a couple of times a month I’ll come home from work to find the barrel-chested musclepup nude and face down in my bed.
Tonight’s one of those occasions. It’s been one bitch of a day and I had to work late, later than usual. I could tell Rick was there by the light on in my bedroom and by the time I made it down the hall my dick had hardened up solid.
"Man, you’re a sight for sore eyes," I said, announcing my presence while I loosened my tie and removed my shoes.
Rick lifted his head off the pillow and smiled. “Not too tired for a fuck are ya, Chief?”
"You kidding? That hairy muscle ass could wake the dead."
The man taunted me by spreading his legs and hiking his butt up in full display ad he put his head back down submissively.
"You wanna see what we look like together?" Daddy asked playfully.
"Yes," I panted as I rode his cock.
He held his phone up and snapped a picture. I continued to ride as he brought up the photo on the screen. ”Awww yeah,” he chuckled in a dirty voice. ”Look at that,” he said, holding the screen so I could see it. I stopped bouncing and slid all the way down to his balls so I could look at our picture.
"Wow," I said as I examined every detail. His beefy thighs, his ass crack, his balls, his cock partially into my asshole…even my own butt looked hot to me.
"That’s what our love looks like," he said tenderly. I leaned down and kissed him hard.
I don’t know what life would be like if I wasn’t a pro athlete. Maybe the men I hit on would tell me to fuck off. Or they’d expect more out of me emotionally. I sure as hell wouldn’t have the arrangement I do now.
But I get away with murder, really. Spent three years on the road hooking up with a different man every night. Top, bottom, gay, straight, whatever… somehow I convinced these dudes to bend over for me or to service me in the hotel before I had to head to the airport.
Eventually I realized I had a type. Not the jocks, or the buff 20-somethings. I came hardest when fucking men twice my age. Late 40s, pushing 50, corporate types, medium-to-solid build, square jawed, strong nose, thinning hair, silver temples, more salt than pepper. Guys like my Dad.
Matt was my first boyfriend. Dead ringer for Dad, really. I knew I could never introduce him to my parents, they’d freak out at the resemblance. But Matt seemed fine having a closeted athlete for a boyfriend and keeping my condo occupied till I got home from being on the road. And I had the orgasms of my life crawling on top of him, and shoving my bare cock inside him as I fantasized about cumming inside my own father.
I thought he was all I wanted till I met Kevin after one game. Divorced, just turned 50, if I didn’t know better, I’d swear that Kev and Matt were brothers. So I fucked him too. I felt guilty but when he asked if he could give me his phone number I said yes. It took me a couple of weeks to get up the courage to broach a threeway with Matt, but when he said yes, I knew my life had entered a new chapter. That threeway was everything I had dreamed off and more. Fucking back and forth between my two twin daddies, imagining it was Dad and a twin uncle. I think it turned Kevin on to see me so enraged sexually, and Matt, well, the dude seemed to love pleasing me, no matter how much a bastard I was.
Two months later, Kevin’s moving in with us.
I’m working on a third guy now. Ryan. Lifetime Royals fan. I swear baseball gives him a bigger hardon than his wife, cause the last few weekends he’s crashed at my place, patiently waiting his turn at sucking my cock.
I’m thanking my stars I bought a huge condo with room for the four of us. And glad that my men all seem to get along.
"Fuck me harder," I say, my tone begging. I want him more than I’ve ever wanted anyone else. He’s already inside me, but I want more.
"No," my brother says. "I love you. I’m not going to use you.”
Something in my heart bursts. Sexually, I want him to fuck me. Emotionally, I want him to make love to me. I’m having trouble reconciling the two. “God,” I say, “you feel so good.”
"So do you," he says, kissing my neck. He thrusts again, filling me with his considerable length.
"Fuck," I groan. "I love you, too."
I can feel him smile against my shoulder. “Good,” he says. “Now I can fuck you harder.”
Going away with your boss. Day one, sales tactics and football, day two it’s golf and drinking. Day three his dicks out and he’s holding your head down driving to the next customer.
I would hardly say that what we’d been doing was innocent. But so far Dad and I had only gone as far as mutual jo sessions, each of us flogging our dicks while egging each other on to orgasm.
It all changed one night when in the middle of our stroke-off session, Dad urged me in a low, soft voice. “Put some extra lube on your finger, son.” I thought it was a new masturbation technique he was going to teach me, like diddling the underside of the corona, or tickling my balls. Instead, he raised one of his legs, exposing a hairy asshole, clean and pink beneath the fur.
"Put it right there, Mike." He groaned as my finger touched his pucker. Then without too much resistance, the ring loosened and my digit popped inside. "That’s it. That feels awesome, boy."
"Yeah?" I asked, less out of sex talk then an insecurity if I was hurting him.
"You bet. My boy’s gonna take care of his dad, isn’t he?" Dad lifted his leg higher as more of my finger slipped inside.
"Yessir," I said, my cock so hard I thought it would shoot spontaneously.
So I’ve had this thing with an honest-to-god airline pilot. Whenever he’s routed to Newark he hops on a train into the city and texts me when and where he’s going to be.
Usually I’m the one on top, but if it’s been a long rough week for him, I’ll lean back and let him crawl between my legs for a nice ride.
"I’m up to my eyeballs in cum," he writes. "Mind if I invite some other buds to join?"
Who am I to so no?
I told myself it wasn’t going to happen again. I was a college jock with a reputation to protect goddamnit. But a couple of beers and I was making excuses to get away from my buddies and head downtown to one of the business hotels. I’d learned the bar was just the place to pick up guys who were my type.
It didn’t take me fifteen minutes before he approached me and started chatting. I never learned his name, but I knew the basic bio: executive at a financial firm, married, three kids, just turned 50 last year, had taken up running in the last couple of years to get back in shape. He joked he was entering his midlife crisis.
"Yeah?" I said, my eyes by now communicating an intense sexual interest in this man. "What are you doing to make you feel younger?" I smiled to let him that I was just kidding.
He smiled back and paused. Then lowered his voice. “Basically, I pick up younger men whenever I’m on the road.”
I tried to keep my poker face. “You make it sound easy.”
I could tell he trying to read me, but he persisted. “You bet. You wouldn’t believe how many guys like you are looking a daddy for the night.”
"And you like to play daddy." I tried to play it cynical, but even saying the words made goosebumps form on the back of my neck.
The guy took a sip of his light beer and nodded. I didn’t think it possible, but his voice got lower and deeper, now barely a whisper. “I like to do anything that’ll let a hot young jock take me up to my hotel room and fuck him till neither of us can get it up any more.”
My heart beat ninety beats a minute as I tried to stammer out a reply.
Stranger Daddy leaned back and eyed me in victory. “I hit the target, huh?”
"Yessir," I said meekly.
He nodded down, where an erection poked up in his suit trousers. “He wants to get better acquainted with you. Whaddya say?”
The fuck felt magnificent. Me on my back, with my legs held up as this businessman pounded his cock over and over into me, against my prostate.
"Yeah, son," he growled. "Let Daddy fuck the cum out of you."
The next morning, I was feeling regrets and when I woke up the bed was empty. I heard the shower going in the bathroom. Part of me wanted to get dressed and out of there before he came back out. But I reached back between my buns and felt my now battered and empty pucker. Maybe just one more go…
I entered the bathroom just as the man was stepping out of the shower. “I got about ten minutes to spare. Why don’t you get in here with Daddy for a quickie?”
"Man o man," my coworker said as he leaned back in his chair and put his feet up on the table. "Where’d you learn to fuck like that?"
"Fucking comes easy," I laughed. My dick still hadn’t gone down but was dripping, the juice running down my balls. "I don’t see how you do such a good job taking it."
"Yeah," Tim shrugged. "You’re a pretty big guy. Guess you gotta want it bad."
"I’ll say. How’d you arrange us to be working on the same client again?"
My work buddy laughed. “I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but Forrestor and I have a thing going on.”
"Shit! You and the boss?"
"He’s not as hung or as talented as you, man, but yeah, me and the boss. It’s kind of a power trip actually."
How humiliating. And how wildly hot.
"It certainly looks like you’ve been practicing for me. Good boy." Mr. Harrison had been the first—taking my virginity less than a week after graduation. I’d been waiting all year for him, and with the gushes of cum he pumped into my ass it was apparent he’d been waiting too.
Mr. Harrison had taught me a lot about what it meant to be a man as my teacher, my coach, my mentor, and hell even a surrogate father of sorts, but now he was teaching me what it meant to be his boy. When I went off for my freshman year, he told me that—every single day—I needed to either get fucked or fuck myself with his dildo.
No master of discretion, my roommate walked in on me the third night with a dildo buried up my ass. My dumb luck was with me, though. Fuck if I could name a day after that the horny jock didn’t fuck me at least once. He was cute, but still I imagined it was Mr. Harrison inside me. Until the end of my days, I’d always be his boy because he made me who I am.
John wasn’t boyfriend material, but he was a nice guy and we enjoyed hanging out on a lazy weekend day. In one way he definitely had me under his spell: a big musclebound lunk, he loved, LOVED to get fucked. I didn’t care that he was dumb as a brick. The man didn’t have a thought in his head other than sex.
I loved to watch his nipples perk up, then he’d get that goofy grin on his face before asking, “Ready to do it again?”
"Hey Sport, you awake?" My dad’s voice was gentle, barely audible in the quiet of my room at 3AM, but I heard him.
"Yeah." How could I sleep? I’d been waiting for Dad to get home with his date and had listened as the sounds of their fucking got louder and louder in the next room.
I flipped on the switch to my lamp. Dad stood there, a big grin on his face. He was nude except for a rubber which sheathed his still half-hard prick. At the end was a nice, thick pearly-white load.
"I thought you might like a treat," he said and reached down to peel off the condom. He tossed over and it landed with a splat on my bare chest. Some of the load leaked out onto me, but most was trapped inside.
I pulled down my bedsheet to reveal my aching boner. I gripped with with one hand while I picked up the rubber with another. “Cool. Thanks.”
By the time I sucked the jizz into my mouth, my own load was spattering my torso.
Now that Jim has gone away to college, he’s broken out of his shy shell into more of a free spirit. So it’s almost not a surprise when I come home from lunch and find him walking around naked, with just a ballcap to manage his bed hair. He’s home for winter break and has been sleeping in most days.
"Hey Dad. Wasn’t sure you’d be coming home for lunch." I can barely see his eyes looking at me underneath the brim of his cap.
Setting down the mail onto the kitchen table, I wink at him. “You mean the birthday suit isn’t for my benefit.” Teasing. Hoping.
Jim laughs and looks down at his college-jock prick, which has firmed up enough to hang heavy and stick out straighter. “Well….” I’m seeing a little bit of that newfound cockiness ease away. “I woke up kinda hard today.”
"Jim, you wake up hard everyday," I observe as I kneel down for a closer view. I’m glad the kitchen floor’s clean - wouldn’t want to dirty up the knees of my new suit. "Why don’t you let Daddy take care of that."
He runs his fingers through my well-coiffed hair, soon tightening his grip on my head. “Oh fuck yeah, Dad.”