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Drake's Fuck Fiction @drakestories

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Pics and stories about jocks, dads, suits, white collar sex, roleplay, celebrity athletes. Scenarios depicted are fiction and role-play. NSFW, for adults only. - Drake's Fuck Fiction (@drakestories)
Graybeards i rolled my eyes red and blue lights @drakestories


I rolled my eyes. Red and blue lights flashed in my rear-view mirror, urging me to pull over. I wasn’t in the mood for this interruption, but I veered my car to the right.

My intern must have noticed the lights, because he started to pull his mouth off my cock until I pushed him back down and said, “Keep on blowing me, kid. I’ll take care of this.” My engorged manhood slid back into his throat and continued oozing precum. 

We came to a stop and I watched my side mirror. Credit where it’s due, the kid was slurping my dick like a popsicle as the cop approached the car. I made no attempt to hide, instead putting a hand on the boy’s head and spreading myself wide as the cop caught sight of the scene.

Reflexively, his hand dropped to his firearm, and he yelled, “Sir, you’re going to need to sit up in your seat.” I flashed a warm smile at the officer—familiar, but I couldn’t remember if we’d met—and firmly kept my intern’s mouth from sliding off me. The young cop clearly recognized me and his commanding presence slipped into stammering uncertainty, “Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Mayor.”

I affected a strong, fatherly tone and responded, “That’s alright, Officer… Nelson. What seems to be the problem?” His own lips parted slightly as he watched the young man in my lap slurp down my cock, and he was speechless. I emphatically ran my eyes along his gaze until I was looking down at my crotch. In a feint of surprise, I exclaimed, “Oh, of course! My apologies, officer. It was a stressful day at the office and I needed to relax.” With a wink back at Nelson, I still kept my hand on the back of the intern’s neck.

Nelson managed to compose himself enough to say, “Understood, sir. You were just driving a little erratically.”

I smiled and looked the officer up and down—not a bad specimen. “I had no idea. I suppose I better focus on driving then,” I responded, pulling my intern off my cock. The officer was struggling not to stare down at my crotch already, but he lost the fight as soon as my fat dick was freely jutting up its full eight inches. I was rigid already, but with a little clench I brought a huge glob of precum spurting from the head. Nelson licked his lips, and then I really wanted him. “Looks like I’ll have to find another way to get some release.”

He started to reply, but I interrupted him, “Would you mind turning around, son?”

“Turning around, sir?”

It was my turn to lick my lips as I answered, “Let me see that ass, Nelson.”

Suddenly self-conscous, he looked at my intern for a moment before giving in to my request. God, what a fuckable ass he had. I reached out and squeezed his meaty butt aggressively. “Nice. Very nice, Nelson,” I said as he spun back around.

“Sir, I think I should get back to work.”

“I don’t think so, Nelson. I think you should get back in your car and follow me home.” I grabbed my intern’s head and shoved it back in my crotch as I growled, “I want to fuck your ass, son.”

He nodded helplessly, not offering any more protest before he walked back to his car. As I drove off, I watched him in my rear-view mirror. I took a turn. He took the same turn. I sped up. He sped up. It looked like Nelson was ready to do as he was told. That’s my kind of cop.

A4f101 1am feeding the whole house was still @drakestories


1AM Feeding

The whole house was still and quiet. I’d fed the twins their bottles, lulling them slowly back to sleep in Gramps’ old rocking chair, watching their sleeping faces with a kind of quiet awe.

I made these, I’d thought to myself, feeling that powerful upwelling inside of me as I gazed down at my boys. Amazing. Me and Miranda hadn’t necessarily planned to have kids so quickly, and so young, much less two of them, but here we were, a family all of a sudden. It was exciting and scary all at once. Deep. Made me feel, finally, like I was a man, once and for all.

I set them back in the travel crib by the bed, my wife sleeping like the dead, but I didn’t feel like joining her just yet. Had a lot on my mind, this first Thanksgiving as a family, under the roof where I’d mostly grown up. Thinking about change, and growth, and fatherhood. Thinking about the turkey in the fridge, too, if I was being honest. We’d eaten well this afternoon, snacked on some leftovers in the evening, but now I was hungry again. So I moved quietly into the kitchen to make myself a snack.

My mouth was full of turkey when Dad came in, padding in real quietly like I’d done, and when he saw me there, pulling strips of meat off the carcass on the counter beside me, he just chuckled.

“You too, huh?” he grinned, coming over to join me. He was in boxer shorts like me. I was generally a naked sleeper, and I knew he was too, but damn if he didn’t actually look better in a pair of shorts. Still in great shape, just with a little softness to the belly in middle age that I guessed I’d have too. I was built just like him, took after him in a lot of ways, and I’ll be honest, if I looked as good as he did pushing 50, I’d be a happy man.

“Was giving the boys their bottle, and I figured I’d get a late-night feeding in myself,” I said, licking the spicy grease off my fingers. “This is a damn fine turkey, Dad. You’ve done it again. You’re gonna have to teach me the secret.”

“All those years watching me, and you haven’t learned it by now, kid?” he said, eyebrow arched, giving me a wink. “It’s in the brining, that’s the key.”

I watched him suck the grease off his fingers too, just like I did, and out of nowhere, felt my cock twitch in my loose boxers. Shit, I thought to myself, with a wry half-grin. Old magic’s still there…

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Br0b8 jason and i met through our significant @drakestories


Jason and I met through our significant others, who were coworkers. I can’t say we got along well - I found him a little aggressive, a little dumb. “He is attractive, though,” my husband would say, as if testing me to see that I wasn’t protesting too much. And maybe I was, because he was a good-looking guy with a killer, muscled body.

“You’re more my type,” I’d say to my husband, which was true - I’d always been partial to thin, twinky types. Sometimes, when the four of us would go out for dinner and drinks, Jason and I would end up verbally sparring about current events. It was friendly, but charged with something that I couldn’t quite place.

Still, I never anticipated what wound up happening. Jason’s boyfriend was out of town and my husband asked me to go over to their place to pick up some document he needed for work. Jason answered the door wearing just a pair of loose-fitting pajama pants.

He greeted me and I followed him into the bedroom where he handed me the folder my husband needed.

“What are you up to today?” I said.

“Being lazy,” he said, shifting around and stretching his back. “I’ll probably hit the gym later.” Which started a conversation about where the two of us worked out and our routines. “You do have a great body,” he said, putting his hand on my abdomen, enough to lift my shirt up so he could feel my abs.

“Thanks,” I said. “You do too.”

“Thanks,” he said, moving his hand away. He said something about how it was funny that we were both big guys who were with smaller guys.

“I’m attracted to all kinds of guys,” I said.

“Yeah, me too,” he said, hooking his thumbs into the waistband of his pajama pants. This made them lower just enough so I could see the top of his pubic mound, which was shaved smooth. “Been a while since I got with a muscle guy like myself.”

“Me too,” I said, feeling my heart race.

“I’m a top with Paul,” he said, referring to his boyfriend. “But when I’m with another muscle guy, things change.” He chuckled a little.

“Really,” I said. He was chubbing up in his pajama pants. “That’s interesting.”

“Been too long since I had a cock in my ass,” he said, reaching behind him. He slid his hand down the back of his pajama pants and felt his hole. “Sometimes I need it.”

“Same here, man,” I said.

“Oh yeah?” he said, still feeling his asshole under his pants. “You a top with Jerome?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Exclusively. But I know what you mean. I haven’t been fucked good in a long time.” Now my cock was hard. I tweaked it underneath my jeans.

“Guess we could help each other out,” he said, and reached forward to feel my cock. I pushed his hand away.

“Dude, we can’t.”

“C'mon man, just this once,” he said, putting his hand back on my crotch. I let him rub it. It felt so fucking good. “Nobody has to know.” He undid my belt and took my hard cock out. “Fuckin nice,” he said, stroking it.

“Fuck,” I said. “You got me so horny.” He turned around and slid his pajama pants over his smooth muscle butt. God it looked good.

“Rub your cock against it,” he said, backing up so I was doing just that. “Fuck I need a cock in my ass so bad.” I slid my fat cock against his shaved hole, thinking I’ll only go this far, I’ll stop before I do something I regret.  But my cock was leaking so much juice and he kept pushing back on it and before I knew the head was pressing inside.

I pulled out. My heart was in my throat. “Fuck, man. Put it back in again,” he said, taking hold of my cock and lining it up with his hole.

“No,” I said, making no move to get away as he pushed back on it and popped the head in again. Feeling the warmth of that muscle ass ring wrap around my cock, it was something close to heaven. He pushed down on it and it sank in another inch. “Fuck,” I said, pulling out again. “We need to use a rubber.”

“Okay,” he said. “As long as you fuck me, okay?”

“Okay, I will. But with a rubber.” He grabbed a rubber from the bedside stand and lubed us both up.

“Lay down on the bed,” he said, and I did. It couldn’t be stopped now. He straddled me and sank down on it. I couldn’t believe how good it felt. His eyes were right on mine, we were so close and what we were doing was so wrong. “Fuck this is just what I needed,” he said.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “Two fucking horny muscle jocks.”

“Can’t control ourselves,” he said. “Feels too fucking good.” He bounced up and down on it a couple more times, then he leaned down and started making out with me. As he did my cock slipped out of him. He reached back to stroke my cock and then he pulled the condom off. 

“You took the condom off,” I said.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m negative.”

“Me too, but…”

“I just wanna see how it feels,” he said. “Just once, then I’ll put it back on.”

“Okay,” I said. He sat back down on it. My raw cock sliding into his hot hole. It felt ridiculously good. My husband always insisted on condoms. I’d forgotten how good it felt to fuck natural.

“Fuuuck,” he said, sitting down on it fully, looking me right in the eye. “Feels so much better like that.”

“We can’t,” I said. I started to get up and he obliged. I rolled on top of him and we made out. I was more turned on than I could remember being in years. His legs wrapped around the small of my back and my cock went right to his asshole again, like a heat-seeking missile.

“You want to fuck me again?” he said.

“Yeah,” I said.

“How do you want to fuck me?” I knew what he was trying to get me to say, but I wouldn’t say it. “Get on your back again,” he said.

I did. He straddled me. I didn’t resist as he held my raw cock in his hand and slowly sat down on it.

“Fuuuck,” we said at the same time.

“We can’t,” I said.

“Just don’t fuck,” he said. “Just keep it like this. Don’t fuck. Don’t move.” He pulsed his ass and I felt it squeeze around my cock. I pulsed back, making my cock swell in his hole. Every sensation seemed heightened. We moaned, looking in each other’s eyes, knowing exactly what each other was feeling.

“Don’t fuck,” he kept saying. He moved just slightly upward then back down.

“Don’t move like that,” I said.

“Is it getting you close?” he said, doing it again.

“Yeah, don’t.”

“I want your cum in me, man,” he said.

“Fuck. No. We can’t.”

“Fuck, man. Milking your raw cock with my ass.” He kept pulsing his ass around my cock and I was so turned on. I wanted to push him off but I didn’t at the same time.

“You’re gonna make me cum in you dude.”

“That’s what I want, man,” he said. “Want your cum in me.” Pulsing, milking, moving just enough to make me lose it until I did.

“I’m cumming in you man,” I said.

“Fuck yeah, that’s what I want,” he said, stroking his cock. “Fill up my muscle cunt, make me pregnant.”

“Fuck man, you’re making me do it, can’t hold back. Fuck!”

“Yeah buddy, fuck!” He came all over me while I came deep inside him.

Guilt rushed in where lust had just been. He lay next to me, assured me he was negative, assured me he’d never planned on this happening. I assured him the same, but even as I told myself it was a one-time thing, that I’d never do it again, I also knew that it was too good to deny, and that soon enough we’d find ourselves right back where we were, except this time I’d have his load in my ass.

by Natty Soltesz

A4f101 after school special i knew hed be home @drakestories


After-School Special

I knew he’d be home anyway, but seeing his truck in the driveway gave my cock an extra twitch. I’d been hard ever since I’d rushed out of practice, skipping the shower because he liked me that way, trying not to grope myself too much as I drove home, and trying not to break the speed limit getting there. I pulled up to the curb, grabbed my bag, and slipped quietly in the side door.

I didn’t know if he’d still be asleep, since he worked third shift and all, so I tiptoed through the house to the master bedroom, and tried not to suck in a sharp breath at the sight of him. It was always like that. He always looked so fuckin’ good. Especially like this, big and thick and muscular, just so damn manly, with his big, hairy legs sprawled out, and that thick, powerful ass of his upraised, like an invitation. Which it was.

I set my bag down quietly and crept into the room, eyes on his spectacular manly nakedness, my hand already reaching out for the big, hard muscle of his calf. The feel of it under my fingers sent an electric signal all the way down to my cock, making it throb in my UAs, even more as I slowly ran my fingers up the back of that big thigh, inching closer and closer to the grand prize - the big, hair-dusted curve of his hard, manly ass. It seemed to swell with the slow, even rhythm of his sleeping breath, and when my fingers finally trailed up the hard, fleshy arc of it, it flexed, dimpling deep as his breathing shifted. Then flexed harder as I raced over the warm, thick flesh, making a steely curve as it responded to my touch. My hand found the big bulge in my shorts and squeezed lustily.

“Hey Sport,” he said into the pillow, deep voice thick with sleep, pushing that beautiful butt back more into my hand as I cupped and squeezed it, slow and kind of gentle.

“Sorry… didn’t mean to wake you,” I said, staring down at his body, feeling the tickle of manly fur under my stroking fingertips.

“I’m sure glad you did, bud,” he said, smiling sleepily at me as he turned his head on the pillow to look at me. His eyes creased at the corners in a deeper smile as he saw me palming my big young bulge. “Mmmm… lookin’ good, stud.”

“Thanks… you too,” I chuckled. This was all still a little bit new, so I was still shy about it. But his smile, his body, the keen look in his eyes as he looked my half-sweaty, post-practice teen body up and down couldn’t be denied.

He reached out, his big hand gently brushing mine off my throbbing bulge, and lazily rubbed the backs of his fingers over me, growling low and deep in his big chest as he traced over the outline.

“Damn, real nice, bud… c’mere,” he said, tugging on the hem of my sweaty T-shirt to pull me closer.

I half-kneeled on the mattress next to him, still rubbing his spectacular manass with my other hand, and leaned down to meet him as he lifted his head up to kiss my lips. Soft at first, easing me out of that shyness I still had, then slowly, gently introducing that thick, wet tongue of his to mine, easing my lips apart and entering my mouth in a deep, masculine, sensual way that had my cock throbbing doubletime. He pushed himself slowly upright, making his ass flex and dimple even more deeply under my stroking hand, then wrapped his thick, hairy cop forearm round my waist and pulled me close to him, so he could hold me tight to his big, naked hairy-chested body as we kissed. So I could feel the thick, throbbing club of his big dick, throbbing slowly against my bulge as we tongue-dipped on each other.

“We got a couple hours before your mom gets home,” he said when we finally parted, running his bg hands down my flanks, then round in back to cup and squeeze the hard young mounds of my baseball player’s ass. “You wanna have a little fun, son?”

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Dads as blue collar as they come construction @drakestories

Dad’s as blue-collar as they come. Construction worker with the body to show for it. Sunburnt face, callused hands, burly build. Lifelong union guy. Gruff at times, but caring with friends and especially family. Would curse you out when he was mad but would give you the shirt off his back.

I guess I didn’t realize how literal that expression would be. When I wanted to do a study year abroad for junior year, Dad didn’t scoff at the price tag. Instead, he looked at the brochures I’d brought home and said simply “I’ll see what I can do Joe.”

A month later, he said he had a way of getting some extra cash, but needed my help. “It’s for one of those nudie calendars,” he said. “Turns out you gay guys have a real construction worker fetish,” he laughed as he gave me a wink. Yeah, that was the biggest surprise of the last year, how cool Dad had been after I came out to him. “I’m not going to go into details, son,” he’d said, “But I sowed some pretty wild oats when I was your age. Just stay safe, be a stand-up man, and you can do whatever the fuck with your life.”

Dad was great like that, and it made me feel guilty he was doing this calendar just to get me some money. I told him so.

“It’s nothing, really. I’ve taken my clothes off throughout my life. We guy don’t have to worry about it like women do,” he said. I’m not sure I got his logic, but he added, “Besides, I told the guys doing the calendar I wouldn’t show my face.”

“If you’re sure.”

“Yep. Thing is though, I don’t want a bunch of strangers photographing me. I thought maybe you could do it.”


“Yeah. You’ve seen your old man in the buff before. And I know I can trust you. Not to take anything inappropriate. Since I’m doing this for you, I figure you owe me.”

He had me there. So next Saturday, we were at the empty construction site and I was setting up the tripod as Dad stripped down to everything but workboots and his favorite ball cap. He posed next to a cement mixer.

I could see why I hesitated doing this. As we snapped photos and Dad’s poses got lewder and more suggestive, I was getting turned on. By my own father. In all fairness, my dad’s a smoking hot stud.

“How are we doing sport? Get enough good ones?” Dad finally said, turning around. His front looked as great as his back and it gave me a thrill to see his exposed fatherly genitals swaying as he walked toward me.

“Yes, sir,” I said, my voice catching in my throat and no doubt giving away how turned on I was at that moment.

Dad did catch on and looked down at my crotch, where there was no way to hide the boner I had. I expected him to be pissed off, but instead he smiled.

“Damn, I should be freaked out, I suppose, but son that’s the biggest compliment your dad’s had in a while.” He ruffled my hair and walked back to the mixer, now facing me.

“If I can trust you, son, why don’t we take a few more? These just for your personal collection.”

Dad posed suggestively, legs spread and coaxed his dick into a full-blown erection as I watched aghast then fumbled to get the camera ready.

I was used to being the daddychaser not the @drakestories

I was used to being the daddychaser, not the daddy, but I’m nearing 50 now and no matter how hard I keep up with my workouts and the cardio, I’m getting that “distinguished” look.

The consolation price is Ben. A one-off online hookup that’s kept going for the last three years. Late 30s, almost my height, with dark looks. If it weren’t for his even more muscular body and his drop-dead gorgeous looks, he would reminded me of myself at 38: into Dads and a little regretful I didn’t pursue them when I was younger.

I got off on the dad-worship thing and the role play. It turned out to be a real kick to reverse the roles and play Dad. So life was great.

Only I missed the body of an older man, so I was glad when Ben started to let his hair grow out. All over, front and back. We were lying on the clothing optional beach and Ben’s body shivers a little when my hand starts caressing his burly back.

“I was thinking of getting my back waxed,” my man said.

“Don’t you dare,” I said in a way that probably came off more as a command than a request. My fingers played the soft downy back hair and traced their way to the small of his back, and under the hem of his shorts. “It looks hot.”

“Yeah?” Ben mumbled into the beach towel. “Daddy likes it?”

His words were boning me up, as he must have known. I gripped the waistband and pulled down. Exposed his hairy ass. And possessively, I cupped the brawny buttcheeks and dug into the hairy crack. Teasing the hole, I pushed in a little with my finger. Ben whimpered but lay still and relaxed.

“You know I was a daddyfucker when I was your age, right?”

It was lewd, molesting my boyfriend like this, on a semi-public beach, but it was early in the day and there weren’t many there. Besides, I think the other guys were enjoying the little show we were putting on.

We have a saying on the force that your partners @drakestories

We have a saying on the force that your partners is more important than family. He’s the one who has your life and you have his back. Always. With Anthony Costanzo, we had something more. I was twenty years older than him and from his first day took him under my wing. Did the best to make him look good and keep out of harm’s way. In return, he looked up to me like a father figure and over the last couple of years we’ve gotten close, able to share things we wouldn’t share with anyone else.

And yeah, you pervs, we share body fluids. A lot. I love pulling the cruiser over during a slow time of shift, unbuckling the seat belt as Constanzo unzipped the blue poly uniform and pulled out his hard-as-nails 24-year-old dick. I was good at giving head and had gotten even better since I’d started blowing Tony. My partner loved getting blown and had to practice to hold off shooting off prematurely.

And in the evening, after a couple of beers at my place and maybe a sports game on TV, he’d return the favor, by offering up his tight junior officer hole to me. A few months into the pattern, he even gripped my arm as I reached for a condom on the nightstand. Stopping me. “OK if we go without tonight Henderson?” he asked.

“Absofuckinglutely,” I replied, starting what would be our new arrangement.

I love how the kid is always surprising me. Whispering nasty stuff in my ear when we fuck, or asking me left field questions about what turns me on. “You prefer shaved pussy or natural, Henderson?” he asked one day as we were cruising around. I’d almost given up pussy since I’d paired up with this young stud, but I still considered myself bi.

“Shaved I guess. But I like both.”

“Cool,” Tony said with a knowing smile.

I wondered what that was about, until we were getting ready for bed and Costanzo leaned up against the wall, spreading his thighs to show off his shaved smooth crack and hole. It was beautiful.

“You said you like it smooth, Henderson,” he said softly, his formerly teen voice now deeper, a man’s voice.

“Fuck yeah,” I growled, kicking off my boxers and let my club of a cock stand up hard and dripping.

I knocked gently at the bedroom door come in @drakestories

I knocked gently at the bedroom door.

“Come in,” Dad’s low, resonant voice bellowed out. When I opened the door I saw my father as he finished buckling his belt as he got dressed for work.

Mom had just left five minutes earlier and I had about ten before I had to be out the door to get to school on time. “Dad?” I said. “I was seeing if you had a moment.”

“Sure, sport,” he said as he buttoned his sleeves. “Something on your mind.”

“Well, actually,” I started, not having the guts to come out and say it. I never had the guts for it, no matter how bad I wanted this.

Dad realized what I came in for and smiled. “Um, yeah, sure, I have a few minutes. Your mother left?”

“Yes, sir.”

Dad undid his belt and unzipped the trousers. Reaching in with his left hand he pulled out a prick which I’d come to know and love on occasions like this. Thick, powerful, fatherly cock. It was growing hard rapidly in his grasp as his hand ran up and down the length. With his right hand he gestured me over. “Come here, Alex,” Dad said.

I knelt down and moaned as his thick cock filled my mouth and his big hands rested gently, encouragingly on my head.

“That it, son… nice.”

Stud i whispered giving a peck to his face as @drakestories

“Stud,” I whispered, giving a peck to his face as the men next to me in the hotel bed roused from his deep sleep. “I gotta go to a meeting for a few hours. You can hang out here if you want. I brought some coffee and breakfast.”

This hunk, Greg was his name, though I didn’t know his last name, stretched his perfect muscular body and leaned up. “You sure you don’t mind?” he asked rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

Mind? This dude could make himself at home as long as he liked. I was still disbelieving how the previous night had played out. Me at a hotel bar in downtown SF, unwinding after a bitch of a day and a tedious client dinner. Him there alone, his muscles not hiding in the preppy clothes he was wearing and the salt-and-pepper temples looking real good on his 40-something-but-young handsome face. It was pretty obvious he was out trawling for businessmen, but I didn’t make any remark or ask what brought him to this boutique hotel on a weeknight. I was just happy to be his prey for the night.

Particularly when he took me up on my offer to come up to my room. And when I was able to strip off those clothes to see the hard body beneath. And when we made out on the bed, horny and excited like teenagers on a date. And when I pushed my lubed cock inside his ready hole as his burly arms wrapped tight around me.

“Not in the least, bud,” I said unable to resist a quick kiss. “I’ll be back about 11:30. Make yourself at home.”

I felt bad for not letting Greg sleep in more, and felt sad to have to leave this hunk nude in my hotel room. But I had a feeling that my client wouldn’t be happy with me missing the morning investment meeting.

Eleven couldn’t roll around fast enough, and I was worried the semi-wood in my trousers might be obvious as I shook hands with all of attendees. I’d lied to my boss and said that I had another meeting in the afternoon, called corporate travel to rebook me on tomorrow morning’s flight rather than the redeye.

It was a chance to take, particularly when I had no idea if Mr. Muscle Power Bottom would even stick around. My heart pounded excitedly as I inserted the key card and stepped into my room.

There he was in full naked glory, lying face down on the bed, that prizewinning ass showing off. I reached down and pinched the erection I was sporting, to tame it, encourage it, I don’t know.

I step in and start to reach down and unlace my brown leather oxfords when I hear Greg’s voice. “Leave your suit on, Bill. I want you to fuck me in it.”

I grinned and reached down for my zipper.

Maturedadsandmen thanks for coming by my house @drakestories


“Thanks for coming by my house to pick up that extra credit assignment you need to work on, Sport.  It’s inside.  I’ll get it for you in a minute.  First, do you mind if Junior comes out to play?”

You thought he was talking about a pet.  “What an odd name for a dog,” you think to yourself.  Before you could say “sure,” you turned to see him sitting at his backyard table with a hard, curved cock and full balls sticking out of the leg of his shorts.

“Matthews…meet Junior.  Come say hi.  He likes to be kissed on the nose.”  As you walked slowly toward your senior Physics teacher, the extra credit project you were so concerned about suddenly became the last thing on your mind.

Hugyerbud whadda ya say you give yer ol man a @drakestories


Whadda ya say you give yer ol man a nice long massage, son?

Mom always joked that Dad would never finish remodeling the guest bedroom. There was always an edge of exasperation to her teasing, and I can’t say I blame her. Dad had proclaimed that custom shelves, new drywall, and a paint job were all things he could do, but a year and a half in, the room is still unfinished.

“I’ll get it done, Caitlin,” he’d say. “Besides, a man likes to have his projects.”

I knew why Dad was dragging his heels. That room was our special fuck pad. When Dad could get away from work a little early he’d shoot me a text, go clean himself out and shower and throw a spare sheet on the bed. By the time I got home from school I’d be sporting a massive boner in my jeans and bounding down the stairs as fast as I could.

Sure enough, Dad would be stretched lazily on the bed, nude, his hairy ass pointing up. Quickly, quietly, I’d strip off, savoring the freedom my erection felt as I slid off my briefs. Dad’s body would shift slightly as I crawled up on the bed between his legs.

Dad loves getting rimmed and I’m happy to make him happy. I always leaned down and played with his meaty cheeks, massaging them in my grip, spreading them, pushing them back together, pulling them apart again. Dipping my finger tauntingly into his asscrack before leaning down and pushing my face into it. Licking, tasting, corkscrewing my tongue along and into Dad’s hole. His hands would come behind him, on top of my medium-length brown hair, guiding me and encouraging me to eat him out.

I did.

This was the loving part of our mating, before I knew we were both ready. Dad would have the lubricant out, and I’d apply it to his hole and to my horny cock. And I’d crawl on top….

I love my father and Dad loves me. We have moments of intimacy when we can, but for us, fucking was not about that. Once I got settled in, I’d ram Dad’s ass fast and hard. If I was really worked up, I’d whisper nasty sex talk into his ear. But mostly after a long foreplay and the anticipation of the afternoon, I was eager to get my nut, so I’d just go for it. Pounding steady, hard rhythm, letting loose.

Usually the knowledge that I was shooting in him would drive Dad crazy and he’d reach down and flail at his cock as it spurted out his semen into the sheet.

I’d catch my breath and roll of Dad and we’d meet for a brief kiss.

“Better get cleaned up,” he’d always say. “Your mom will be home soon.”

A4f101 the new recruit simon had seen the pic @drakestories


The New Recruit

Simon had seen the pic of me with Randy on Facebook. It was stupid, I should have changed my privacy settings, but too late - he’d spotted the pic of us from last summer, out by the pool, shirtless and still dripping, arms round each other as we grinned at the camera. Fuck. I knew the look on his handsome, older face - it was the same look he gave me, and just about any other hot young dude his eyes came across. Coveting, appreciative, hungry. I didn’t mind, I wasn’t the only well-built young stud he kept close at hand for his amusement, and I’d never been the jealous type. But the way he looked at Randy, the questions he asked, the insinuations, kind of put my back up a bit. Brought out the protective big brother in me. Made me a little uncomfortable, too, the things he asked in his clever, roundabout way. Making me think thoughts about my hot kid brother that I really shouldn’t be - not that it had ever stopped me before…

I’d met Simon at UCLA, some networking thing, and only later found that he liked to show up on campus, his alma mater, for a little dude-shopping. Replenishing his stables, so to speak. He was a bigshot movie producer and director, sitting on hundreds of millions of bucks from that long-lived, twice-rebooted major action franchise. Everyone knew he liked a young, hot dude, and I was flattered that he sought me out. Found myself easily accepting his invitation, and I’ll be damned if he didn’t know ways to make me come like I’d never come before. Yeah, he was older, yeah, a little soft around the middle, but I was learning a lot about the business, making damn good money and connections, bonding with the other guys he kept around, and spending my free time traveling the world on private planes and big pleasure yachts.

Like now, down here in New Zealand, while everybody else froze back home in a grim, snowy winter. Only a couple of the guys were along for this trip, Simon kind of distracted with a big shoot here. But there was a new face now, my little brother. Randy. He’d jumped at the opportunity to come hang with me, meet this Hollywood legend, get a taste of the glamorous lifestyle. And Simon seemed content to just admire his sexy young athlete’s form, his hard-carved, lithe swimmer’s body, cute young good looks, the way he wore the high-end designer swim trunks Simon preferred. But I knew that wouldn’t last long. I knew what Simon liked. Knew about his brothers fetish, about the twins he’d had two years ago, who were now making it big on some vampire show on the CW. Or maybe it was werewolves, or witches, I didn’t really go in for all that shit. I’d met them last year though, almost like a passing of the torch, sandwiched between their naked, muscular, talented bodies as Simon watched us explore and pleasure each other. Playing their “little brother” for his pleasure, and finding out I loved it. Shit, sometimes when Simon was out of town, me and the twins still got together, still played brother games. They knew about Randy, and they’d given me the friendly heads-up about what would be in store.

I didn’t know how to bring up the possibility to my little bro. How to prepare him for that level of kink, what he might need to do. But I could feel the subtle pressure from Simon, and I knew something was inevitable. Worst of all - or maybe best of all - I knew I was up for the challenge. I’d shot a lot of cum over the years with idle fantasies about it, I don’t mind admitting that, but the reality was scary. Shit, I didn’t even know if Randy would be willing to even try it out. So here we were, tanning on the deck of the speedboat, while the other two dudes with us on this trip cruised around. Me trying to think of a way to broach the topic with my little bro. But like he sometimes did, he surprised me.

“So, when’s Simon gonna try something on with me, bro?” he asked. I looked over at him, surprised, but his eyes were closed. No expression. I swallowed hard.

“Uh, well, what makes you think…”

“Come on, Trav,” he chuckled, cracking one eye open to look at me. “You telling me he flies you around the world, bought you that sweet Audi and gets you a credit on his movies just ‘cos you’re a smart young dude?”

I blushed, hard. We’d never talked about that, either. But of course he knew.

“Dude, Simon has some… particular interests,” I eventually said. He grinned.

“I got that. Brothers is his thing, yeah?” He looked at my expression, and laughed, giving me a playful nudge with his elbow. “Dude, I’m cute, not stupid.”

“Well… what do you think of that… little bro?” I said, huskily. He looked at me, then slowly rolled onto his side. Looked me up and down, appraisingly. Like Simon did, but not the same way, like he was checking out an expensive painting or an Italian sports car he coveted. This was my little brother, giving me the slow up and down, like a man. Smiling. And fuck me, if I didn’t see a slow rise in those hot little swim trunks he wore. He looked up, saw that Brody and Brady - yeah, really - were busy whooping it up at the controls, and leaned in.

“I think this is going to be a super fun trip, big bro,” he murmured in my ear, over the roar of the engines, and stunned me with a kiss. His hand resting on my abs was like fire. Like an electrical signal direct to my cock, as I kissed him back, instinctively at first, then hungrily. Looking at him to be sure, seeing that he was. Very sure, in fact, as he reached for my hand, placed it over that big, growing young bulge, smiling.

That evening, Simon got the show he’d been looking for, watching me and my little brother - not so little anymore, I realised as I undressed him, and not inexperienced either, the way he kissed and touched me - come together. The moans, the grunts, the whispers. My bro’s hot young lips sinking down the big shaft of my cock, to my trimmed bush. The feel of his muscled, tight mounds of 18-year-old ass in my hands, showing Simon his deep cleft, the tight gleam of his hole. My tongue at that hole, tasting him, devouring him, as I fisted my superhard big brother hardon. The way he reared back against my chest as I sank home inside him, to the root in my brother’s hole. Cherry, he’d told Simon. That wasn’t strictly true - me and Randy had spent some time prepping in the big stateroom before Simon got back. Fucking each other for our own pleasure, not his. Finding that we could get into Simon’s kinky groove very well indeed. But he didn’t need to know that.

The slow thrust and grind of our young, muscled brother bodies together had Simon’s big mature dick gleaming with precum as he fisted it, watching us, entranced, in lust, in awe. And when I fucked the cum out of my hot little brother, the husky, needful way he moaned my name, called me his big bro, and kissed me, nearly sent our benefactor right over the edge. But not quite. My baby bro was just as creative as me, and as we’d arranged as we made out in the steamy glow of our first ever session together this afternoon, planning out how we’d do this, I stroked the cum out of him, into his cupped palm, as I shot my own load up inside him. Cream-pied his hole, for Simon to see, then slid my sticky, dripping cock back inside to drive the last cum from my baby bro’s big young balls. Then, slowly, detaching from each other, naked and dripping and aglow with sweat, we approached the man. Randy leaned in, thanked Simon for inviting him to join us, and kissed him on the lips, soft and sweet. Then brought his cupped palm, brimming with his hot young seed, to Simon’s lips, and slowly fed it to him as the man started to come himself. He sprayed us as we kissed one another, smiling, genuinely into each other, not just doing it for show. Maybe that’s what kinky ol’ Simon had wanted all along - to get us to fall for this, for each other. I didn’t care, and neither did Randy. Simon was taking us places, and we were both looking forward to the ride.

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Mark is 13 years older than me and at first he @drakestories

Mark is 13 years older than me and at first he really resented hitting 40 and then getting older. But after I finally confessed that older guys turned me on, he slowly but surely has embraced his age. He’s signed up for a DILF Workout program some trainer runs and has been beefing up in all the right places.

I never told him I wanted him to get bigger, but he could tell form my reaction how much it turned me on, especially as he pumped his pecs to be bigger, fuller, rounder, and more muscular. I really love playing with those bad boys now, feeling them, massaging them, and licking them. That just seems to egg Mark on even more. He’s even started letting his chest hair grow in, nice and full. Previously shy, he’s taken to walking around the house shirtless, and it’s kept me at a fever pitch.

Still, I was surprised when we were at a gay resort and a Dad Week even was going on. Turns out Mark had picked that week. “I thought I’d give my guy some eye candy for the week,” he winked as I’m sure my jaw dropped at the parade of DILF meat around me.

“Fuck,” I muttered, getting a chuckle out of my partner.

Bigger surprise still was a Mr. Pecs contest, in which Mark volunteered. He looked great parading up on stage, and I got a hoot at how confident he’s become. There was too much competition for him to win, but he did get first place in Best Nipples category.

Later, that afternoon, as we stripped down in our hotel room, Mark grabbed my face and placed it against his chest. “Why don’t you taste some prizewinning tits?” he growled.

Macstevens shit baby bro you are good if only @drakestories


shit baby bro you are good… if only Dad could see you now huh?

Id sucked off my best friends dad mr dorman @drakestories

I’d sucked off my best friend’s dad. Mr. Dorman was in fact the man of my dreams. Strong, muscular and fit for his 40-some years, he looked awesome in his business casual attire he wore to work or the sweats and T-shirts he wore around the house when i’d go over to visit my bud Tyler.

It was on one of those visits, a sleepover, that I felt this vibe between me and Mr. D. i brushed it off at first, but when I woke up in the middle of the night, parched, I went to the kitchen and almost bumped into my lust object. He was nude from the waist up, his smooth chest a contrast from his bearded face and hairy arms.

“Can’t sleep Dave?” he asked, patting me on the shoulder.

I boned up at his touch. “No, sir,” I replied.

He squeezed my shoulder as if he were about to let go but didn’t. “You’ve been putting on a lot of muscle this year,” he said, more quietly.

“Yes, sir. For football. Coach has me on a plan.”

His hands were now tracing the contours of my deltoid muscle and I knew then that this was not how most fathers interacted with their sons’ best friends. Tentatively, my hand ventured out until it touched his abdomen. Rock hard, sculpted, DILF muscle.

“Oh fuck,” Mr. D hissed. “That’s nice, Dave.”

Encouraged I explored more, touching him, running my hand along his body. Mr. D stepped closer, bringing our bodies into contact and his face to mine. That first kiss was electric, everything I could have dreamed. When he broke off he was nearly hyperventilating in lust.

“I’m so horny right now, Dave. You can tell me no, but I’d love to have you suck me.”

I met him in a brief peck. “Yes, sir,” I said and knelt down on my haunches. It was my first time blowing a guy but I gave it my all. I must have done OK because within a few minutes Mr. D was blowing his jizz into my mouth and throat. It was awesome.

The next time over was a repeat and we were both anticipating it, waiting for Tyler and Mrs. D to fall asleep. I was even better this time.

After the third time, Mr. D said we couldn’t do it any more. “You’re so good Dave, but I gotta keep my head about me.”

I was disappointed but understood. I even went over to Tyler’s less, trying to keep my distance. I couldn’t help myself though, when I saw that Mr. Dorman was going to be in a charity boot camp obstacle course race. There were a ton of hot men running the course, shirtless and sweating, but my attention of course was on Mr D. The second time he passed by he noticed me, then the third. His eyes locking on mine through the group of onlookers. His eyes questioning what I was doing there. I responded with a loud cheer, urging him on. He’d shake off his disbelief, crack a little smile and push back through.

I didn’t know if I should hang around after the race, but I was enjoying seeing the older men half nude and muscles pumped. I was getting lost in scoping out one daddy type when I felt a hand on my shoulder. A familiar squeeze. Mr. D of course.

“You didn’t have to come out Dave,” he said.

I shuffled a little, now nervous at what he thought, if I’d stepped over a line. “I wanted to support you, Mr. D.”

The man looked like he was going to admonish me, but instead, he just said. “Well thanks.” He leaned in toward me, whispering. “I’ve been meaning to talk. I think I was a little too abrupt with you a few weeks ago.”

“Nah, sir, that’s all…” I started but was interrupted. Mr. D hadn’t finished.

“I, um, kind of miss the thing we were doing. Not to pressure you, Dave, but if you ever wanna.”

I was my turn to interrupt. “I’d be thrilled to, Mr. D.”

That made the man smile big, and relax. God, he looked so good standing there, shirtless, I could have gone down on him right then and there.

He must have been having the same thought. “Maybe we can go somewhere private now, you and me?”

I nodded.

Hugyerbud when daddy discovers his inner bitch @drakestories


When daddy discovers his inner bitch…

A4f101 zoomintheroom l7 banker with cutaway @drakestories



l7 - Banker with Cutaway Collar

By officerfrank66 on Flickr

I can think of someone who might dig this ;)

God, yeah.

It had been a tough breakup with stuart and my @drakestories

It had been a tough breakup with Stuart, and my lunchtime trysts with Derek Washington were classic rebound sex. Derek was boyfriend material, sure enough: a big strapping ex-football player with a handsome face and a killer smile, and who looked real fucking good in his tailored suits. But the man wasn’t interested in romance or a steady boyfriend. He wanted a quick release and a nice fuck break in his busy schedule. Fine with me.

My schedule was busy, too, but a text from Derek would have me arranging my schedule. “Your points or mine?” I’d reply, wondering who’d book the hotel room this time. Though my insane work travel had racked me up a shitload of hotel points, I was going through them pretty fast now.

It was worth it to see the smile on Derek’s face as I opened the hotel room door. I wasn’t as sharp a dresser as Derek, since my finance job had me in conservative suits, solid shirts, and simple ties. But my fuckbud always responded well to seeing me, I think he got off on fucking an uptight New England WASP.

I’d played baseball in college and like a lot of baseball dudes, I’d gained some padding around the middle after graduation, but like a lot of gay guys I’d worked hard to take the pounds off. Now I was lean and in perfect condition. I sometimes wondered if I did it for myself or to impress Stu, but feeling Derek’s hands on me, running beneath my suit coat as we kissed, was worth all the time I spent in the gym.

His hands were already fumbling with my belt. “Gotta make this a quickie, big guy,” he’s say as he shucked down my trousers and boxers. I’d turn around and bend over the mattress while the sound of Derek’s zipper and a squirt of a lube packet made my dick surge in anticipation.

For a big strong guy, Derek would take his time penetrating me. I rarely bottomed with Stu, so I was still pretty snug down there. When he’d buried himself inside me, he’g give a gentle, playful pat on my butt, “Your ex is a real dumbass to let you go,” he said.

The words stung, but I relished the compliment. Particularly when the man’s cock withdrew and reentered, starting a nice, steady fuck. “God I fucking love this hole,” Derek said as he thrust into me, faster now, more determined.

Three minutes later I was in the bathroom, wiping the lube and sperm from my crack with a washcloth. Derek wiped off his beautiful prick and stuffed it back in his suit pants. “Damn, I needed that, Powell,” he patted my back. “Maybe later in the week, we can take our time.”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” I replied, knowing the next time would probably be just as rushed as this.

Maturedadsandmen throwback thursday former nfl @drakestories


Throwback Thursday:

Former NFL Quarterback and Current CBS Sports NFL broadcast color commentator, Rich Gannon (Minnesota Vikings, Oakland Raiders, et al)

Pic #1 is during his playing days and pic #2 is current with his broadcast partner, the also boner-inducing Kevin Harlan.  Gannon just gets better with age!

Agreed: DILF Gannon is as hot as younger pro-player Gannon was.

Daddysbottom im 48 happily married with 2 @drakestories


“I’m 48, happily married with 2 kids. But I’ve always had this longing for gay sex. The last time I did it was in college many years ago. I thought I’m done with that phase when I got married, but as I got older, my desire for it got even stronger. So that’s why I’m looking to hook up here.”

Brett wrote back. He had been chatting with “Joe” for the past few minutes for the first time, even though they had been exchanging e-mail ever since they discovered each other’s profile online last week.

“So what type of a guy are you looking for?” Joe’s message came back to him.

Brett wrote his reply. “I’ll be blunt. I’m looking for a man’s man. A real man who will take charge in bed. So physically, he has to be strong and tall. And no question about it, I want him to be hung. 7 inches at least, and thick. I haven’t been fucked since college, and I want a cock that will leave me knowing that I’ve truly, deeply been fucked.”

Brett waited for Joe’s reply. It took several minutes of staring at his computer screen. Brett was starting to think that maybe he has scared Joe away when finally, a reply came accompanied with an attached photo.

Brett opened the photo and immediately his jaw dropped at what he saw. The reply from Joe only said: “Is 11 inches enough?”

Graybeards daddiesbyeze dennis the door @drakestories




The door was unlocked. My mouth watered as I pushed it open and stepped inside. Dennis always left it open when he came over. I nervously turned back and locked up behind me before I walked into my living room.

Sitting back on my couch, Dennis was waiting. The man wore his suit like a second skin, I’d never seen him outside of at least his slacks and button-down shirt. I thought he must have been exhausted, he’d kept the jacket but undone his tie. The scent of his hairy cock had filled the room as it hung out of his undone fly.

He didn’t move a muscle as I walked in a threw him a shy smile. Dennis had a deep voice, the kind that overpowered a room. “Hey Barry,” he said as his cock swelled in anticipation. “I told Nicole I was working late. Wanna get fucked this time?” He asked with a grin. 

I absently chewed my lip and smiled back. He didn’t need to ask; there wasn’t much that got me going more than getting fucked by a man in a suit.

Bro you know kerney got his mba and is now an @drakestories

Bro, you know Kerney got his MBA and is now an investment manager, right? Gotta love when life imitates a Bill Drake story.

We got together like this from time to time four @drakestories

We got together like this from time to time. Four times a year to be precise, when Dad had his quarterly investor’s meeting in Boston. He’d book the hotel for a few days and I’d take the bus in from the sleepy New England college town where I was in college. And for a couple of glorious days, we’d have torrid sex every free moment dad could spare. We’d started out mainly oral, but by now I was fixated on his thick fatherly dick and the way it felt pumping slowly and insistently into me while we made out on the luxury sheets. Inevitably Dad could fuck a few loads out of me in a night.

The thing is, we had a ritual. I didn’t, couldn’t, call him Dad, and he wouldn’t use my name. There had been too much baggage when we had first started. I was sexually obsessed with my father but I wanted to find a way to make the incest an occasional, kinky addition to a normal sex life. Dad had gone from the naughty thrill of sneaking around like we were doing to full on, bone-crushing guilt. He called it off for a while, until one Christmas eve when we couldn’t keep our hands off one another.

The next month Dad called me and asked if I wanted to meet him in Boston. When we met, he decided to lay down boundaries. “We only do it here,” Dad said thoughtfully, as if he had thought long and hard about. He had, I’m sure. I’d thought long and hard, as well, not wanting to fuck things up with my father, but also very fond of the sexual connection and energy we had.

“Sure,” I said, knowing this was for the best.

“And,” he added. “When we’re here we’re not father and son, just two men.”

“What, like ‘Tom’ and ‘Pete’?” I wise cracked, which made Dad smile.

“Yeah something like that. Alter egos.”

It became our joke from then on, and the first couple of times, Dad or I would put heavy emphasis when he’d call me Tom or I’d call him Pete.” But pretty soon, it became natural. We were Tom and Pete, complete with biographies. Playing characters freed us up to be more open sexually, to share fantasies we might not otherwise. To mate as equals, without the baggage of father and son.

Strange as it sounds, it was working out real well, I decided as I looked down on Dad’s sleeping beefy body. He was rousing now, and his cock had been awake and engorged for the last two hours. It was beautiful to watch. I’d gotten up early, showered and thrown on a T-shirt and shorts to make a coffee run for us. That morning hardon was still pulsing and throbbing when I’d returned.

Dad rustled in the sheets and roused. He wiped the sleep from his eye and sat up. “What time is it?”

“About 9,” I answered. “Got you some coffee.”

He took it appreciatively and slowly woke as we sat there quietly. After a few minutes, he set down the cup and looked down at his crotch. His boner still pulsed, thick and rigid. “Fuck, I haven’t had morning wood like this in a while. I thought you’d drained me last night.”

“I guess my old man still has it,” I said. Then froze. Fuck, I’d broken our rules.

Dad “It’s OK, Matt,” using my real name for the first time. “You wanna? For old times sake?” He looked at me questioningly.

I couldn’t answer, a million emotions pouring through me.

Dad spoke softly, quietly, tentatively. “You want to suck daddy? Want to suck your dad’s dick, Matt?” He kicked off the sheets from around his feet, spreading his powerful thighs. “I’ve missed my son’s mouth on me, blowing me.”

We fucked that morning, as father and son, and my whole body shook when I came.

A4f101 for your service a little something for @drakestories


For Your Service

(A little something for Veterans’ Day…)

“He’s a damn fine Marine, Mr Jorgensen,” Sergeant Cooper said. “Gets it from you, from what I hear.”

“Ah, I don’t know about that,” Dad said modestly, waving the compliment away, but with a pleased smile too.

“Well, he’s a real credit to you, either way. You should be proud.”

That was probably more words than I’d ever heard my sergeant say in one stretch, but whatever, I’d take it. Anything to see my Dad smile. We’d been through a lot over the years, and he hadn’t always liked the idea of me following in his footsteps and joining the Corps, but here we were. He kept looking at the gleaming medal pinned to my chest, that quiet smile on his handsome face, and it was making me feel ten feet tall. I could feel myself sticking my chest out a little more, almost subconsciously.

“So, you gonna try and make the drive back?” I asked as we headed out to the parking lot.

“Well,” Dad said with a sheepish grin as he popped the locks on his truck, “I figured I might as well not push it. Got a room at the Comfort Inn.”

“Oh yeah?” I said, grinning a little wider as he met my eyes and held them, his own smile spreading. He didn’t have to say anything more, and like always, I wasn’t sure he exactly knew how to say what he was thinking anyway.

Didn’t matter. Fifteen minutes later, the door to his room was swinging closed behind us, as I stepped up to him, feeling that little twinge of nervous tension in my gut I always got, and then slid my arms around his still-trim middle-aged waist.

“Sir,” I murmured, and then his strong arms were slipping round me in reply. He grunted low and soft and needfully, and we were meeting in the middle, lips on lips.

I grunted right back, feeling my cock swell in my dress blues almost immediately, and his all thickening right behind mine, inside his khakis. Our lips parted as we grunted hungrily, his big hands sliding down to cup my tight young ass, drawing me in tighter to the throb of his big bulge.

“Big day for you today, son,” he said when we parted. “Proud as hell of you, buddy. Let me show you…”

Hs hand was slowly massaging the big bulge of my cock, making me start to leak inside my UAs, as he started to kneel down slowly, reaching for my fly.

“Uh-uh, sir,” I said, catching him under his armpits and tugging him back upright. I kissed him again, respectful and loving, but passionate too. “Proud to be the man you made me, Dad. The Marine you made me. Let me show you…”

He chuckled, but made no move to stop me as I sank to my knees, unbuckling his belt, running my hand slowly and appreciatively over the bulge in his pants, feeling it twitch and throb in response. God damn, he had a beautiful cock. I loved sucking it. Had loved it for years. He was the one who’d taught me how, and his was still the one I loved the most.

I tugged his trousers down his thick, hairy legs, revealing the hard-tented bulge of his simple Jockey briefs, then leaned in to nuzzle my face against it, getting his unique musk on me, grunting happily to myself as his hand stroked over my close-cropped hair. Then I reached for his waistband, feeling the crisp dark hair hiding under it as I tugged his briefs down, getting a richer, deeper whiff of his man scent as that big cock, the Marine cock he’d sired me with, swung out into the open. I took it in my hand reverently, then smiled up at him before running my tongue along the length of it. Then, as he moaned low and deep, fingers clutching my head a little tighter, I opened up wide and swallowed him slowly to the hilt.

“Aw fuck, buddy,” he moaned, his knees trembling a little as I slowly set to sucking on him, soaking his big Marine dick with my spit as I slowly worked my head up and down it, slicking him up real good. I’d had enough practice at him by now, years of practice, that I didn’t need to hold it. But I loved the way he throbbed in my hand, so I did it anyway.

I often got compliments on my skills working a dude’s cock over, and I could bring Dad to the brink over and over if I wanted to. I did, a couple times, just to really get him primed, until I guided him back to sit on the side of the hotel bed. I gave him one long, slow, tongue-swirling suck, before popping my mouth off him, licking the excess Dad-flavored spit off my lips with a hungry sound.

“God damn, Marine,” he growled, pulling my head in for a deep, sloppy kiss.

“You’re god damn right, sir,” i growled right back as I stood, grunting as he reched out to stroke over my own big bulge. “God damn Marine, just like you. Even if you never wanted me to be… you made me one, Dad.”

All those years, seeing him in his uniform, the way that had imprinted on me as a kid… the way pictures of him in his combat gear back in Desert Storm had made me cum for the first time… how it had felt to rub his dress uniform against my naked teen skin as I jacked furiously… how it had felt that first time between him and me, all alone in his on-base house, how we sweated and grunted as I poured out all my years of lusting for him in one hot, sticky night, his dogtags clinking against my bare,m teenage skin as we thrust and rutted and kissed and swore… no wonder I joined up. No wonder I wanted to be a man just like him.

I let dad unbuckle my belt, unzip my trousers, and reach inside to the humid bulge in my UAs, grunting appreciatively as he explored my hardness. And then i stepped back, unlacing my dress shoes and setting them neatly beside the chair as he slowly stroked his wet paternal cocklength and watched me.

“Wish we’d served together, sir,” I said, eyes on his as I stepped out of my blues, folding them neatly over the back of the chair as he smiled and nodded approvingly. I stepped back over to him, eyes never dropping from his.

“Wish it had been you and me together out there, fighting side by side,” I went on, as his hands moved to the stretch of my underwear, pushing up the base of my still-buttoned khaki shirt. Slowly he peeled the boxer briefs down my strong young legs, my cock snapping almost upright as it was freed, making him grunt again. He wrapped his fist around my thickness, then lapped the tip of me, both of us growling contentedly as he savored his son’s man taste.

I moved forward, straddling his spread hairy thighs, naked from the waist down and entirely his, like I’d always been.

“Wish it had been me you were fucking, those long lonely nights in the desert, or on training…” I murmured, pulling his handsome head up to kiss as I reached under me to take hold of his big Marine cock, lining it up as I sank down on it. I felt the flutter all inside of me when his fat tip nudged my tight, hairy young hole, the same thrill I always got.

“Wished we’d been Marines together, Dad,” I half-moaned as I felt his tip press, push, then pop inside of me. He groaned low and husky as I sank down the length of him, feeling the sweat start to stick to the underarms of my khaki shirt as my Dad filled me with seven solid inches of Marine father cock.

“We are Marines together, buddy,” Dad grunted, craning his head up to kiss me, slow and wet and deep, as he took hold of my hips and pulled me the rest of the way down onto him. “Right here, right now. Always.”

“Fuck yeah, always,” I moaned, starting to ride him, showing him all the love and appreciation and respect I had for him. Everything he stood for, everything I’d become, everything he’d helped make me. A man in his image. “Semper fi, right?” I half-chuckled, half-panted.

“God damn right, Marine,“ he grinned, kissing me hard and deep. “Semper fi, my boy. Semper… fucking… fi…”

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Graybeards we only got two pat complained as @drakestories


“We only got two?” Pat complained as he unzipped his fly. “Dibs.”

The other three laughed as they followed suit, and Grant jokingly replied, “You can’t call fucking dibs on a cocksucker, Pat.”

Just as Pat was about to protest, Chris pushed past Grant and whipped his cock out of his suit as he said, “Of course you can. Dibs on the other.” He grabbed the kneeling man’s head and pulled his lips down the long shaft protruding from his pants.

Pat went to grab the other cocksucker, but John stepped in and growled, “If you want two more, you can pay for them.” John grabbed the cocksucker and forced his fat dick between the man’s lips. “It’s my money, so I go first,” he said as he stared down Pat. 

Pat broke first, and nodded his acceptance as he protested, “Fine, but I still go before Grant.” The guys all laughed again, except John who just smiled and felt his cock thicken a bit more in the young man’s mouth. It was one thing to manhandle a whore on his knees, but cowing men like Pat into submission was the real thrill.

Marriedjock8 dad always walked around the house @drakestories


Dad always walked around the house nude. Even when my friends were over, he come down when we were watching a movie fully naked with his hog bouncing around. I’d act like I was grossed out…but, he knew how much I liked it because I’d get up just to watch him shave before work. We could chalk our hard-ons up to “morning wood” and they didn’t have to mean anything.

A4f101 warm day on a slow boat we motored @drakestories


Warm Day On A Slow Boat

We motored slowly up the Intracoastal Waterway, the day getting late, slowly puttering back to the dock, back to the house, back to reality. Soon, we’d both have to get dressed again, but for now, we lounged in our shorts, two big guys, glowing with satisfied pleasure, a light beer buzz, feeling on top of the world. But behind that, a little sadness, too.

It had been two sweet hours - despite his beefy, bull-like build, his rugged face, he had a soft spot a mile wide, especially when it came to me, and I felt privileged to be one of the few to see that part of him. To get to feel the gentleness of his touch, the sensual gaze of his eyes as I stripped out of my shorts for him in the back of the pontoon boat, the tender, heated way he kissed me. Yeah, we could go at it hard, slamming our thick, muscled-up football player bods together, grunting and growling and sweating together. But today was one of the slower, sweeter times, lovemaking I guess, one of my favorite ways to explore and experience pleasure with him.

We were supposed to be fishing, so we had more time to explore. More time for me to curl up in his arms, to forget my size and my bulk, be soft with him. Long, slow, kisses. Murmurs. Whispers. His big, rough hands stroking the big, creamy-skinned, lightly padded mounds of my pecs. Down over the strong barrel of my stomach, rounded but hard with thick muscle. Untying my board shorts, releasing my big, hard, thick young cock as he grunted into my searching mouth. Feeling the throb of his own, nearly identical cock, thick and proud and throbbing with lust against the swells of my meaty, muscled ass as I leaned back to swap spit with him slow and deep and tender.

I stood up, let my board shorts drop down the thickness of my powerful, massive thighs and calves, my cock rising up in the warm sea breeze, as I smiled at him, at the slow, lustful sweep of his gaze. The way he leaned in, his shorts tented as hell, and kissed the beef of my body. Flexing up for him some. His big, stubble-rimmed lips on the warm smoothness of my linebacker skin, kiss-tracing over the mound of my stomach, along the still-visible lines of my abs. He’d been built just like me once, a solid young powerhouse of worked-out football muscle, padded for the deeper impacts a linebacker endures. Still kept in great shape, but the beef had thickened some more, turning him into the powerfully sexy muscle bull he was now. Older, wiser, sexier, hungrier.

His lips caressing the thickness of my cock, up and down its length, wide wet tongue warmly lapping under the flared head of my big young dick, had me sinking my fingers into his thick, sort, greying hair.

“Ah, yeahhhh Dad,” I moaned, loving the singular feel of his mouth swallowing my big cock. Like he’d been doing since I was 16. Like I’d dreamed of him doing since well before that.

He looked up at me, our identical blue eyes meeting, smoldering for one another. I didn’t know what I’d be doing next year, after college was done, but I knew I had to have him close to me somehow. This was too great, too deep, too perfect to give up. Slowly, I pulled him up off my dick, tasting the salt of it on his tongue as we kissed again, then settling down on my big haunches to stroke his powerhouse thighs, returning the favor like he’d taught me so well. Coach had wondered, my senior year, how I’d gotten so skilled at sucking man cock, but much as I wanted to tell him how well my big sexy Dad had taught me, it was a secret not meant to be shared. Just between us. Which made it so much more powerful.

Seeing his big paternal cock throb like mine as he skinned down his boxer briefs and slipped between my meaty thighs made me ache and tingle all over for him, and I was beyond ready when that big, blunt, drooling tip pressed my muscled ring, then breached it. Always that twinge, that weird filling-up sensation, then that slow warm spread of good feelings, all through my groin and the pit of my stomach. The big smile on my face telling him how good he made me feel, how glad I was to be making love with him. Getting fucked by the man who’d created me. The big pontoon boat rocking gently on the waves as he rocked up inside me, clutching my beefy pecs, exploring my mouth with his tongue slowly, deeply. Fucking me deeply, thickly, paternally, until the come erupted all over the bulk of my big hard abs, and I felt him shiver and quake and throb inside me. Flooding me with his thick, rich seed.

Afterwards, it was great, curled up in each other’s arms, slowly kissing, exploring our sun-warmed, sweating muscles. Delaying the inevitable. But sooner or later, I had to slip bareass back into my board shorts, he into at least his boxer briefs, and we had to head back. At least the big boat was slow, meant for cruising, not speed, so I could linger behind him, rubbing those big, powerful, rounded shoulders, leaning in to kiss his neck, loving his little sounds of pleasure as I did. The sparkle in the big, hunky lug’s eyes as we looked at each other, and kissed again.

He sighed, and looked out at the Atlantic.

“You ever want to just push the throttle and head on out there, big guy?” he said wistfully. “Go find somewhere else to be, away from it all?

I smiled, nodded. Fuck yeah, I’d thought that. Every time him and me took the boat out to bond, to love, I thought about it.

“Long way to Bermuda in this old piece of shit,” I chuckled, squeezing his shoulders. He laughed with me, but still stared off at the endlessness of the sea. I leaned in and slowly kissed the side of his big bull neck, crouching down to slip my arms around him as best I could. He was a big guy, and it was a stretch, but one well worth making.

“Some day, Dad,” I whispered in his ear, his big paw coming up to squeeze the thickness of my forearm. “Some day, just you and me, big guy.”

He smiled at me, eyes looking a little misty, or maybe it was just the sun in them. Yeah… some day. Until then, we shared one last kiss, for now, long and slow and deep, loving, beautiful, as the boat slowly chugged its way back to reality.

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Menzmen walked in and immediately recognized my @drakestories


Walked in and immediately recognized my dad’s backside- but that was most definitely not my mom underneath him!

Yeah im just a senior in high school what of @drakestories

Yeah, I’m just a senior in high school, what of it? I know how to fuck, and I like it. A lot. It’s like a drug being inside a snug manhole, working it open, making your bottom dude excited for it, getting him off, and finally going for the finish line yourself. It’s the whole ritual of conquest and release, I can’t get enough of it.

That’s maybe why the role reversal we were doing felt so right. I gave a gentle knock on the door of my dad’s room. I was dressed head to toe in business attire. Navy pinstripe, blue shirt, french cuffs, patterned tie, wingtips. “You home son?” I asked as I pushed open the door and stepped in.

My father lie on the bed, bared in his glory for my eyes. 50 and looking great, he has a tuft of silvery fur on his chest. He’s hit the gym and the running trail pretty regularly since the divorce and while he’s not a magazine model, he’s got a full meaty bod, with pumped pecs, strong shoulders and arms, and a mostly flat stomach.

Tonight, he’s wearing just a jock strap and is already throwing hard in the pouch, that dad cock straining the mesh.

“Just wearing a jock tonight, Alan?” I ask, using his first name. I set down my briefcase and reach up to loosen my tie.

Dad leaned up on his arms. Showing off his magnificent torso. “I was pretty tired after practice today, Dad,” he said. “Besides it feels more comfortable hanging out like this.”

I stepped up closer to the bed. I was getting erect in my suit and fast. “I can see that. Just be sure to put on some clothes when your mother is around, hear?” I slipped off my suitcoat and could feel Dad’s eyes plastered to my young teenjock form.

“Yes, sir,” Dad said. He paused, then added, “I was wearing these too, cause I was thinking, sir…”

“Yeah, son?” I prodded. Not yet climbing up on the bed to join him but almost. I unlaced and kicked off my dress shoes. My fingers reached out and grazed his forearm, which made him shiver and moan a bit.

Dad lifted his legs up and spread them, showing off his hair-dusted hole. “I know you like my ass, Dad,” he breathed, horny and excited.

My hand went down and examined the bared ass trench and hairy taint. “Nice, Alan.” I climbed up on the bed.

“Anyone else been taking care of this hole, Alan?” My finger tips traced along the pucker and dipped in a little. Dad had lubed up in advance. “Coach Peterson, maybe?”

Dad shook his head. “No, sir. Just you. Besides, Coach is a total bottom.

I had to laugh inwardly at Dad’s joke. I’d been fucking Coach P for the last couple of months.

“Good boy. Why don’t you lie back and let Daddy eat that beautiful hole?”

Yeahstr82gay your mom and dad wont hear no @drakestories


“Your mom and dad won’t hear, no one can hear a blowjob.  Seriously.”

“But dude, they’re like, right in the next room.”

“You said you fucked Jenna in here once.”

“Well, I did, dude, I totally did.  Don’t look at me like that, we did!  We were just really, really quiet.  Like really quiet, seriously.  But dude, this is–this is different.”

“Well, dude, if they didn’t hear you taking her cherry, then they’re not gonna hear this.”

“But this is gay, dude.”

“Dude, I told you, it’s not a gay thing.  It’s just you and me, dude, helping each other in the dry spells.”

“Why do I have to go first?”

“Cuz you lost–or, not lost, but–anyway, the quarter came up heads.”

“Aw, man.”

“It won’t last long, promise.”



“You gotta tell me when you’re gonna cum.”

“Totally, dude … . Yeah?  You gonna?  Oh fuck, yeah–here wait–let me scoot back–awwwwwwwgh!  Yes!  Oh FUCK!”


“Sorry, sorry!  Okay … aw fuck … aw dude … yeah, just like that … mmmmm … mmmmmmmm … Dude … aw yeah … aw yeah–FUCK! Watch the fucking teeth–yeah! NO DONT STOP! Just like that–yeah … yeahhhh … awwww fuck … dont change it … just like that … a little faster bro … mmmmmmmm … yes … oh yes … bro … I love you, man … fuck, I love you … you’re fucking sweet … do it … mmmmmmm … .uhn … uhn … uhn … UHN!  UHN! UHN! UHN! awwwwww … making it last here … fuck yes … aw fuck, you’re good … love you man … fucking love you … yes … Yes … Yes!  … . YES!  … . AW FUCK! DUDE! FUCK! WATCH OUT!–”


“–Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwgh!  FUCK yes! Awwwwwwgh … don’t stop  … . run it out … run it out dude … run it out … oh yeah . . oh yeah … baby … (kiss) … aw baby … . fuck yes … dude!  Dude?  Where you going? … … Dude, where did you go?”

“Fucking wash out my mouth, you fuck.”

“Dude, it just happened fast.  I said ‘watch out.’”

“You’d already–you know.”

“It just happened really fast … What did it taste like?”

“I dunno.  Sorta like snot.  Like runny snot.”


“Maybe mine will taste different?  Dude?”



“I think I heard your mom.”

“I don’t hear anything.”

“I definitely think she and your dad are awake.”

“But I don’t hear–”

“We better go to sleep.  Seriously.  They’re probably already wondering what we’re doing.”


“I’m just saying!”


“I’ll suck you, dude!  Promise!  Just, not tonight.  Okay?”


“Hey, I think you missed a little bit on the tip of my–OW!”

“Good night, fucker.”

“Dude, that hurt.”

“Don’t you fucking tell anyone I blew you.”

“Good night, dude.”

“Yeah.  Night.”

10eight you cant keep doing shit like this @drakestories


“You can’t keep doing shit like this Jake,” I said, as I poured out the forty of Bud Light, “what if it hadn’ta been me that stopped you?”

“I dunno,” he answered and looked away.

I retorted back louder and deeper, “What do you mean you don’t know?!”

“Dude, I don’t know, I’d probably be sitting in the back of a cop car by now and…” he rambled on petulantly shaking his head.

“Did you just call me DUDE?” I spat back.

“Du…no…DAD,” he stressed, “shit…I’m sorry sir.”

“Your mom would fucking flip if you got in trouble for this shit, son. And how do you think I’d look at work?”

He didn’t say anything back. Just looked down slightly, taking a deep breath in and exhaling forcefully. He kicked the dirt around a little with his Red Wing boots, sending up a puff of dust that blew back onto his jeans. Sliding his hand part way into his pockets, he looked up at me sternly.

I crushed the can when it was empty and tossed it, clanking, into his truck bed.

I walked up to him, my arms folded across my chest, “What were you thinking anyway?” His head snapped up, sighing, “I wasn’t. I don’t know, I was just going to meet the guys. I should have waited to open it, I’m sorry dad.”

I was closer now and and put one hand on his shoulder, the other on the back of his neck, giving a firm grip. “I just don’t want you to get in trouble son, that’s all,” I said to him.

“I know, man I’m sorry,” he said. His breath still had the lingering scent of Copenhagen and the one swig of beer he was able to take. Damn’d if he didn’t look just like me when I was 19.

“It’s all right, bud,” I said, and ruffled his hair a bit. “You’re still the hottest deputy in the county,” he said with a grin. I laughed, “So you’re trying to get out of trouble now?” He just raised his eyebrows and tilted his head in reply.

I reached down to his jeans and grabbed the fullness of his package, feeling the heftiness, and heat, of his cock through his jeans. He grunted as I leaned in, my body weight pushing him against the cold tailgate. I bent my head down to kiss him, but bypassed his mouth and went straight to the side of his neck. His skin was salty and sweet and I licked up to his earlobe, making him moan, one hand reaching down just below his collar.

I kissed him deeply, my tongue finding its way into his willing mouth. When I stopped I looked at him breathlessly, “You got some time, sport?”

“‘Course, dad,” he said, putting his hands on my lower back, pulling me closer and grinding my crotch to his, “I’ve always got time for you.” He brought his hands to the front of my duty belt and fumbled, “let’s get this undone first.”

Dilferotica hot coach coach daddy hall of fame @drakestories


Hot Coach

Coach Daddy Hall of Fame nomination: Tony Schifano, SF State Baseball

Musclehank the first time i saw coach without his @drakestories


The first time I saw coach without his clothes on I knew I needed to get him back to my apartment to get those thick legs wrapped around me.

Maturedadsandmen this is a long post i know @drakestories


This is a long post, I know.  But the words just poured forth.  I didn’t want to split it into more than one post because the guy in this photo is who inspired the story you’re about to read.  I didn’t want to associate a photo of a different guy with the rest of the story.

Is it still called unrequited love if the guy you’re pining for knows how you feel?  You told your parents you were gay at 15.  You told him how you feel about him - how you’ve felt about him ever since puberty - when you were 18 that summer before leaving for college.  Pretty ballsy to come right out and say it, right?  Alcohol really is a truth serum like they say it is.  He acted like you never said what you said to him and you went off to college 1,000 miles away with a heavy heart.

All four years at college and the next two of post-graduate school, you dated guys off and on.  A couple along the way were even serious enough that you brought them home to meet your parents.  Talk about awkward.  Although it was apparently only awkward for you.  He never acted like it mattered to him that just a few years ago, you had poured your heart and your feelings out to him and now here you were having some other guy’s arms around you.  A couple times over the years, you tried to revisit the conversation from when you were 18 with him…even one time to the point that you had gotten a lucrative job offer from a firm in Chicago, but you had come to him hoping he’d give you a reason to turn it down and accept a job closer to home.  But he shut you down every time you tried to talk to him about it.

A couple years into your new job, despite a murderous work schedule of 60 to 70 hours a week, you managed to meet someone and it became serious.  More serious than any other relationship you’d ever been in.  You’d been dating for over a year when, out of the blue, at a romantic dinner in a restaurant overlooking Lake Michigan, your man proposed.  You accepted because you had fallen in love.  The problem was, you didn’t love your fiance the way you loved Him.  Even now as the two of you are planning your wedding, He is still in the back of your mind.  Every time your phone rings, a small part of you keeps hoping it’s him, calling to tell you not to get married.  But it’s never him calling…at least not for the reason you want him to call.

Shortly before your wedding was to take place, during a visit back home, some friends threw a bachelor party of sorts for you.  As supportive as they’ve been of you ever since you came out, none of them could bring themselves to hire male strippers for you, so it wasn’t THAT kind of bachelor party.  It was more of a gathering with food for people to visit and catch up.  Your fiance couldn’t make it.  He had to stay back in Chicago for work.  But He was there.  The two of you had a few polite, normal conversations throughout the party.  When you were talking with others, your eyes would sometimes divert to him, involved in some other conversation in the room.  God.  Even after all these years.  Even with you days away from getting married, he still brought out feelings in you that no one else did.

After a few hours, the party wound down.  Everyone had left except for the two of you.  You were sitting out on the back deck, looking up at the stars and talking.  Both of you had downed a couple beers throughout the night and you each had a bottle in your hand now.  Truth serum again…  He’d been talking to you for the past few minutes about marriage.  How it’s the greatest thing in the world and it shouldn’t be taken for granted.  How you and your fiance should cherish each other and treat each other well.  Keep communication lines open.  Don’t go to bed angry…shit like that.  Typical fatherly advice.  During a lull in the conversation, you stood up and walked to lean over the deck.  He joined you.  You turned and looked at each other and that’s when the truth serum - mixed with a little bit of courage builder - did its trick on you again.

“I love you, Dad” you said with what sounded to you like deep longing in your voice.  You meant I love you as more than just something a child says to their parent out of habit.  But when he responded, almost reflexively, with, “I love you too, Son.” you knew he only said it about of habit.  Maybe he thought, after all these years, your feelings might have gone away.  Or, now that you were getting married, those feelings you told him about all those years ago didn’t matter anymore.  The extra courage the alcohol was giving you compelled you to lean over and show Dad what you meant when you said I love you.  While you were still looking at each other, you leaned in and kissed him.  Maybe because he was so surprised.  Maybe because it’s a reflex when someone kisses you.  Or maybe it was for another reason…  He kissed you back.  In that moment, all of the feelings you’d had for nearly 20 years welled up inside you.  Even though it was just a small kiss, not even any tongue involved, it was the most special thing that had ever happened to you.  It was as if you’d never known love before you kissed him.  It was then that you knew for sure that everything you had felt for him all of these years was right, no matter how many ways since the day you told him how you felt about him he’d tried to tell you it was wrong.

Though it seemed like several minutes, it was probably only a few seconds.  Dad jerked backward suddenly…ending your rapture.  “Son, no!  No.  That didn’t just happen.”

“But it did, Dad.  It definitely happened.”

“Listen to what I’m saying, Son,” he said firmly.  “This did NOT just happen.”  I knew that tone of voice.  In my youth, it meant what he said was the final word and he shouldn’t be challenged any further.  However, I wasn’t eight years old anymore and more was at stake this time than a bike or a video game that I wanted.

He turned and started walking back into the house when I grabbed his arm.  “Dad, we have to talk about this.  I’m supposed to get married in one week.  I can’t marry Doug now that this has happened.  You can’t tell me you didn’t feel the same thing I felt.”

With almost steely coldness in his eyes, Dad shut me down yet again like he had so many times before.  “Yes you CAN marry Doug.  You love Doug.  Doug loves you.  What just happened, which - like I already told you, DIDN’T happen - shouldn’t have happened.  Tomorrow morning, you’re going to fly back to Chicago and be with your fiance.  And you most certainly WILL get married.”  With that, he walked inside and went directly up to bed, leaving me standing there, brokenhearted again.

The next morning, he acted as if last night hadn’t happened.  He went out of his way to make sure he wasn’t alone with me.  When I was getting ready to leave for the airport, he hugged me.  But I knew it was only for my mom’s benefit, so she wouldn’t think anything was wrong.

I went back to Chicago and tried to settle back into my life after that unsettling trip back home.  My wedding day came and went.  All of my family and friends were there…including Dad.  Doug’s family and friends were there too.  It was a beautiful ceremony.  But the whole time, I kept picturing Dad when I was looking at Doug, pledging my love and fidelity to him as he was to me.  Some of you are probably calling me a scumbag for marrying Doug when, just a week before, I had been ready to call it all off and basically told Dad I didn’t even want to marry Doug.  The truth is, I knew Doug loved me and I cared very much for him.  You’ve heard the phrase, “fake it until you make it”?  I thought once we were married, if I tried hard enough, the type of feelings I had for Dad would develop for Doug.

We’d been married for about a year when I got a call from one of my sisters.  I needed to come home right away.  I dropped everything and home I went with Doug in tow.  It was my mom.  She’d been feeling under the weather for over a year, but never did anything about it.  “It’s just a nagging cold.  I’ll be fine.”  The cold never went away, though.  Finally, after prodding from my father and both of my sisters, she went to see the doctor two months ago and was diagnosed with Stage 4 cancer and told she only had a few months left.  I went back home shortly after her diagnosis to spend time with the family.  With my sisters, cousins, aunts, and uncles hovering around, fussing over Mom,  I felt like dead weight.  I did manage to spend some time alone with her before she insisted that I go back to Chicago.  “I’m fine, Honey,” she said.  “You always hear stories on the news about someone who is given months or weeks to live and, six years later, they’re still alive and kicking.  That’s gonna be me!”  Only, it wasn’t to be the case this time.

After I hung up with my sister, I headed home right away, understanding that this might be the end.  I made it back home and had time alone with Mom before she passed away.  Doug and I stayed for the whole week, through the funeral.  After the service, during a moment at the house when Dad and I were alone in the kitchen together, we hugged and cried.  I think it was the first time we had been truly emotional with each other since that week before my wedding.  There was no romance or sexual energy to anything that was happening in that moment.  Just two guys remembering the woman they both loved.  A couple days after the funeral, after being assured by my sisters and father that they would be okay, Doug and I went back to Chicago and our lives.

Six months later, I got another call from my sister, Bree.  “You need to come home…NOW!”  I got a lump in my throat and my heart dropped.  Not Dad too!  After further conversation with her, my worst fears weren’t realized.  Dad wasn’t dying.  But things weren’t good.  He’d sunk into a deep depression after Mom’s death.  He stopped going out and doing things.  He spent all of his time inside either watching TV or staring out the windows.  Nothing anyone in my family had tried to snap him out of it was working.  A once-vibrant man appeared to be wasting away.  Noting the special relationship he and I had always had, Bree asked me to come home.  Maybe I could finally make some headway with Dad.  I took a week off from work and went home, leaving Doug in Chicago.  “You need to be with your family and help your Dad,” he told me when I tried to convince him to come along.

The first few days I was there, it was the whole family together.  Dad was behaving the exact way my sister described.  He didn’t even want to spend time with all of us.  I also noticed that Dad, who had always been so particular about staying fit and keeping in shape, had put on quite a bit of weight since my mom passed.  Part of the depression, I reasoned.  The afternoon of the third day I was there, I called my therapist’s office back in Chicago.  Yes.  I’ve seen a therapist from time to time.  Everyone - even the most “together” person on the planet - needs an emotional “tune-up” from time to time…just to make sure nothing bad was building up inside.  I got a referral for a therapist here in town…someone my own doctor had gone to school with and was old friends with.  The next day, I sent my sisters and their husbands out so I could be alone with Dad.  We had a long talk about life, about Mom, about what had been happening to him over the past few months.  Dad opened up to me about the way that he had been feeling and I have to say, it was pretty heartbreaking…not only as a son, but as someone who was in love with him.  The son in me - as well as the lover - just wanted to pull him into a hug and never let go.  Dad agreed that he needed to get a grip on his life again.  But when I pulled out the information about the therapist, he flat-out refused.  It was time to pull out the big guns…and maybe a cliche or two, if necessary.

“Dad, I think it’s great that you finally want to turn your life around.  But this is too big for you to do on your own.  Stacey, Bree, and I are here for you…and so are Doug, Rich, and Greg” referring to our husbands, “but none of us is a professional.  Neither are you.  We all love you and we don’t want you to keep wasting away or slip back into this deep depression.  Please see the doctor.”

“You’re not going to let up, are you?”

“I’m a lawyer.  We don’t know how to let up.  I may be all the way in Chicago, but I’ll just tell Stacey and Bree to stay on your case in my absence.  Do you really want to have to deal with that every day?” I said with a smirk.  For the first time, I imagine, since my mom had been diagnosed, he cracked a small smile.  I picked up the cordless phone.  “So can I call and make an appointment?”

“No,” he said, grabbing the handset from me.

“Dad.  I thought we just had a breakthrough moment!” I replied, exasperated at how stubborn he was being.  Then, he surprised me by gesturing with his hand.

“Give me the information.  *I* need to make the call.”  After he got off the phone, he put his hand on my shoulder.  “Thanks, Son.” he said with a broad smile.

“It wasn’t me.  You did it.  You had the courage to make the call.”

“Thanks for everything,” he said again and pulled me into a big, long hug.  For the rest of the time I was home, Dad seemed to change.  He was more involved in spending time with all of us and seemed to be starting to try and find his old self again.  Never once while I was home during that week did I talk to Dad about my feelings for him.  The time wasn’t right…and at that point, I figured it was a dead issue for him.  I had become comfortable and content with my life in Chicago with Doug.  Continuing to rock the boat with my dad - especially while he was in such an emotionally fragile state - was no longer on my agenda.

Over the next few months, things with Dad really started to improve.  He called me relatively frequently, telling me how the therapy sessions were really working wonders for him.  He said not only had he learned to cope with his grief over losing my mom, but he also cryptically said he’d started learning more things about himself and getting more in touch with his feelings.  I figured anything that was going to help Dad become a “better him” was a good thing.

Apparently, he was also getting his body back in shape.  At least once every three weeks or a month, he would send me a photo via text to show his progress in weight loss.  All of the photos were G-rated.  I had to admit, it seemed like Dad had really turned things around.  He was starting to get back the shape he’d always been in all the years I was growing up.  After several months, I got a text message from him late one night, “Hey, Son.  After all the hard work, finally think I’m back in fighting shape!  Took this pic earlier today.  Looking good, huh?”  A few moments later, the photo popped-up on my phone.  Unlike the previous photos that had been G-rated, this one was of Dad shirtless, sitting on the floor in only a pair of boxer-briefs.  My jaw dropped and I think I almost passed out!  Dad was right.  He looked good.  I was glad he seemed to finally be back among the living after my mom’s death.  But that picture…his body.  That handsome face.  His sexy, hairy chest.  It was all too much!  I almost instantly got a hard on, which I started massaging through my shorts, as I kept staring at the photo.  Another text came in from Dad, “Well?  What do you think?  Don’t leave me hanging!”

I can tell you how I wanted to respond.  I wanted to whip out my boner, take a picture of it and send it back to him with the message, “I think this speaks for what I think.”  But I couldn’t.  Those feelings for my dad were several years and a thousand miles away.  “Wow!  You look amazing!  Great job, Dad.  So happy for you!” is what I typed into my phone and sent.  Then, I brought the picture back up on my phone and blew two loads, looking at it.

A couple weeks went by.  There had been a major development in my relationship with Doug.  After much conversation, he and I decided it was time to adopt.  We both wanted children and we finally felt like we were on footing to be able to provide a stable home for a child.  Okay…I see you all looking at me with “judgy eyes.”  First, I marry Doug when I don’t really love him.  Now, I’m going to adopt a child with him and bring another person into the situation.  I know…  I’m a total scumbag.  But it’s amazing the lengths we’ll go to in our lives when we’re trying to make things “okay” for ourselves and trying to do what we think we’re supposed to do.  Anyway, Doug was called out of town on business before we could make any plans to visit any adoption agencies.  We decided that, when he returned home next week, we’d make plans to move forward.  I was happy.  Maybe this is finally what was going to bring me the happiness that I’d been craving for so many years.

Doug had only been gone a day when a knock came on the apartment door.  To my surprise, when I opened it, there stood Dad in front of me.  Wow!  Those photos he’d been sending of himself as he was losing weight didn’t do him justice.  He looked good…damn good!  He looked even better than when he’d been at his most fit while I was growing up.  I was definitely looking at a man who had turned his life around.  And specifically tonight, he looked especially handsome.  He was almost dressed up as if he were going on a date after he was done visiting with me.  “Dad!” I exclaimed and immediately leapt into his arms for a huge hug.  “What are you doing here?”

He pulled away from the hug, smiling.  “I’m in town on a some business and thought I’d take a chance and see if you were home.”  He looked around.  “Is Doug still at work?“

“Actually, he’ll be out of town for at least a week on business, himself.”

“Oh, good!”  Dad responded.  When I stopped short and looked at him oddly, he quickly added.  “I mean, it’ll give you and I a chance to spend time together.”  It seemed as if Dad was trying to cover-up for something, but I decided not to press the issue.  My dad finally seemed like the man he used to be and I wanted to spend time with him with as little turbulence as possible.

We ordered food in and spent the better part of the next three hours catching up about life.  It was such a great night.  The best night I’d spent in quite a few years, actually.  Finally, the time had come in the conversation where I decided to tell him that Doug and I had decided to adopt.  “Dad, I have some news…” I started, but Dad interrupted me.

“Son, I’m sorry.  I don’t mean to cut you off, but I need to say something to you.  It’s pretty important.  I’ve been trying to decide all night if this is the right time to have this conversation.  But, as Dr. Thomason keeps telling me, I can’t put off something that I want and need to do.”

“Okay.  What do you have to tell me, Dad?”

“I think it’s best if I start at the beginning, before I met your mother.”  I made like I was going to get up from the couch.  “This sounds like it’s going to be a REALLY long conversation.  Do I need to brew a big pot of coffee?”

Dad chuckled, “Jackass!  I’m not about to embark on a retelling of my whole life from then to now.  I just want you to understand the context of what I ultimately want to tell you.”

“Okay.  So no coffee needed, then?”  I sat back down, caught in the playful glare of one of his mock “I’m not impressed” looks at me.

He continued his story, “Son, you know how things are when you’re growing up.  You’re just living your life, trying to find out who you are and what you’re supposed to do.  You try a lot of things until you find that right fit.  That’s how it was for me.  I tried a lot of things in high school and college.  I dated women,” and then he paused for what I’m sure was a big reveal to him, but came off to me as a little melodramatic, “…and men.”  I wasn’t too surprised to hear this.  It’s not uncommon for everyone to experiment in their youth.  Dad kept talking, “…in fact, I was seriously involved with another man at the same time I was dating your mother.”  Now THAT surprised me.

“What?!” I exclaimed.  I think he may have mistaken my outburst for anger instead of surprise, because he appeared to go into damage control mode.  “Son, you have to realize that I loved both he and your mother.  I wasn’t sure what direction my life as going to go in.”

“How did you end up deciding to choose Mom?”

“I’d like to say it came in an epiphany and I had a moment where I knew she was the one I was meant to spend my life with.  But that’s not how it happened.  Actually, I was prepared to break things off with your mom and explore that other side of myself when your mom told me she was pregnant with what ended up being your sister, Stacey.”

I had a vision of my head being like in that commercial on TV for either car insurance, or whatever it’s for, where the the top of each person‘s head blows off in a puff of purple dust because their mind has been blown by the low prices.  My mind was officially blown by this news.  Dad had been prepared to explore a gay lifestyle.  “Dad, this is pretty surprising news.” I finally managed to vocalize.  “If you wanted something else in your life, why did you decide to marry Mom?”  Suddenly, my own life was having a spotlight shone on it by my last comment.  I wanted something else in my life, but I married Doug.  It was as if my life was mirroring his.

“Son, you know yourself that life for openly gay men like yourself - or even bicurious men, as I might have labeled myself back then - hasn’t been as open as it is now.  No.  I had gotten your mom pregnant.  I had to take responsibility for my actions.  Back then, my only option was to marry her.”

“But, if you didn’t truly love her…” I started to say, when Dad kept on talking, almost oblivious to the fact that I was talking.

“…we had a good life.  And I think all of you kids would say you had a good life growing up too.  I loved your mother…not the way she deserved to be loved, but I did love her as a friend and the mother of my children.  When she died, there was still a hole in my life where she had been.  It was devastating.”

I put my hand on his shoulder.  “Did you ever stray during all the time you were married?”

“Not once.  I looked.  In fact, I looked a lot.  But I never cheated on your mother.  I did my best to shove those feelings down and put them in a box, away from everything.”

It all made sense to me now.  “That’s why, when I told you how I felt about you when I was 18, you had almost a non-reaction.  You were trying to keep that part of your life and those feelings from coming to the surface again.“

“Yes and no.  I was also trying to keep your heart from getting broken, Son.  Becoming involved with your own father that way…  It would’ve lead to disaster.  Not only for you, but for so many others at the time.  You needed to get out there, live your life, and meet someone on your own.  And I needed to keep moving forward.  Every time you would try to talk to me about your feelings for me, it was like you were kneeling there on the ground, with a rock in your hand, trying to break open the lock on the box I’d put that part of my life inside..”

“And the night of the party before my wedding…?”

“You might say, you put a big dent in the lock.  You didn’t break it, but you dented it pretty good.  I couldn’t let you break the lock, so I had to end things that night before thing went any further.”

“So, Dad…  What does all of this mean?  What is this trip down memory lane about?”

“It’s about a truth that I’ve been learning about myself over the past several months with Dr. Thomason.  By what we’ve already talked about, you’ve probably guessed that what I have to tell you is that I’m gay.”

This was a pretty anti-climactic end to our big, emotional conversation.  “Yeah.  I figured that’s what was coming.  Don’t take this the wrong way, because I think it’s wonderful that you’re coming out and you’re doing it to me.  But it’s not a big revelation, given everything you’ve just finished telling me.”

“I know, Son.  But this isn’t all I need to say to you.  While I’ve been going through the process of therapy and learning about myself, I came to another realization as I was working through my feelings.  It’s why I’ve been trying so hard to keep my homosexual tendencies in check ever since you told me you loved me when you were 18…why I shut you down whenever you wanted to talk about it anytime after that…why I pushed you away when we kissed at the party before your wedding.  Son, I have feelings for you.  I guess I’ve had them all along.  Somewhere along the way, paternal pride turned into something more.  I wasn’t quite there when you told me how you felt at 18.  But I got there shortly after.  And when you were the one who pulled me out of myself and my depression after your mom died, that really helped crystalize what I had been trying to deny for so many years.  Son, I love you…you know, more than a father normally loves his son.”

I was speechless.  It was as if, with one fell swoop, Dad had taken a rock to the lock that was keeping my own box of emotions shut tight.  Suddenly, everything that I’d been feeling…all of the love I had for my dad that I had put away in recent years, came pouring out within me.  All I could do was hug him at that moment.  Embarrassingly enough, I started to cry too.  As we pulled away from the hug and Dad saw my tears, he became concerned. “Hey, my speech wasn’t THAT terrible was it?”

I laughed.  “No.  Of course not.  It’s what I’ve been wanting you to say to me ever since I was 18….actually, before I was 18.”

“Son, tell me how you feel.”

I wiped away the tears from my face and my eyes.  “You know how I feel…how I’ve ALWAYS felt.”

“I know.  But tell me how you feel after what I just said.”

I wasn’t sure I could put it into words, so I did the only thing that I could do.  “Does this tell you?”  I leaned toward him.  He met me halfway and our lips pressed against each other.  The kiss quickly turned from sweet and soft into passionate and intense.  Feelings we’d both keep keeping under wraps for so many years poured into that kiss.  Our tongues wrestled against each other.  Hands began to roam over each other…my hands feeling the muscle of his back and his shoulders.  After minutes of making out on my sofa, we came up for air and ended up breaking the kiss…though not pulling away from each other.  Our foreheads touched and our mouths were still just inches apart.

“Wow!” he breathed heavily, me feeling the heat of his breath on my chin.

“Wow doesn’t begin to cover it.  That was SO worth waiting all these years for!”

He chuckled softly then, without a word he kissed me again…this time, a little more tenderly, but no less passionately.  After nearly a minute more, I broke the kiss and stood up extending my hand to Dad.  He looked up, questioningly.

“Let’s move to the bedroom, Dad.”

“Are you sure?”

With gusto, I said, “Oh…ho yeah!  Definitely.”  Then, I remembered that this may be new for Dad.  “Are you ready for this?  I mean, if this is your first…”

Dad smirked at me.  “What am I..a virgin?  I’ve been with men before.  I’ve even been with men recently.”

That was a shock.  “Yeah?”

“Sure.  I wanted to make sure what I’ve been feeling is real and not just some overreaction to your mother passing.  I’M ready, but I’m not so sure you are.”

I sputtered with indignation.  I’ve been out for years.  I’ve been wanting him for years.  How could he say I’m not ready?  “What are you talking about?  Of the two of us, I think I’m more ready than you.”

“That’s not what I mean when I said I’m not sure you’re ready.  I’m talking about Doug.”  There it was.  The one word that I hadn’t wanted to think about…Doug.  Since we’d started making out, I’d basically forgotten I was married.  And frankly, I wasn’t ready to remember yet.  I reached out, took my father’s hand, and pulled him to a standing position.

“I know I’m eventually going to have to deal with that.  But not now.  This right here.  This isn’t about he and I, this is about you and me.  I’ll deal with the consequences later.  I pulled him to me and we kissed again.  “Come on.  Let’s go get comfortable, stud.”  He smiled and blushed a little at being referred to as a stud.  Adorable…

In my bedroom, we kissed hungrily again, our bodies pressed against each other…beginning to feel the stirrings of each of our hard ons.  Our kiss broke again and I tugged at his shirt.  Getting the hint, Dad pull it off over his head.  Finally getting a look at his chest, it surpassed my expectations….even after having seen it in that photo he texted me a few weeks ago.  I rubbed his chest, feeling his muscular pecs and his light gray and black chest hair.  This was better than I ever thought it could be.  I took my own shirt off and Dad eyed it and touched it appreciatively.  As apprehensive about doing this as he had been earlier, Dad started to take over.  He kissed me again and soon we were on my bed, he on top of me, kissing me, my neck, my shoulders…with my hands rubbing his back and finally finding his ass and grabbing it.

After a little while, I rolled us over, and began giving my dad the same treatment he’d been giving me.  Except, I went further down, kissing his chest, pinching his right nipple, while I licked and sucked on his left one.  Finally, I crept lower, unbuckling the belt of his pants.  Before unbuttoning them, I looked back up to his face.  He was looking at me with what appeared to be expectation and desire.  “Can I…?”  I asked.  He simply nodded wordlessly.  I unbuttoned and unzipped his pants.  After he slightly lifted his ass off the bed to let me pull them down his legs, I saw he was wearing the same white boxer briefs he had been wearing in that photo from a few weeks ago.  White boxer briefs with a huge lump in them that was pointing up and to the right.  I know my mouth started watering as I reached out and began rubbing the bulge, feeling it grow even more under my touch.  When I looked back up at him, he had a shit-eating grin on his face.  “You knew how much I liked that picture you sent me, didn’t you?”

In a nonchalant tone, he said, “I had an idea you might’ve liked it.” and then winked at me.  Then, he reached and pulled me back up into a passionate, tongue-powered kiss.  His hands roamed over my back and finally reached down into the back of my pants, gripping my ass.

I broke out kiss and looked down into his eyes.  This should’ve happened years ago.  I loved this man.  Even though we hadn’t even gotten to the main event of our night together yet, the passion of what we’d done so far told me that he felt the same.  “God, I love you, Dad.”

“I love you to, Son.”  This time, unlike at the party before my wedding, I knew he wasn’t saying it reflexively.  I knew he meant it.  As he pulled me back down into a kiss and we continued making love, I knew my life had just taken a different direction.  Everything had changed.  Dad and I would still have to talk.  I would have to deal with Doug…and face whatever repercussions might come.  But in this moment, here on my bed, I was with the man I loved…the man I was meant to be with.  As long as we ended up together in the end, I could face whatever rough seas I might have to sail through in the immediate future.

Coach g is a big stocky man not fat i guess but @drakestories

Coach G is a big stocky man. Not fat, I guess, but well, he has a lot of bulk on his short frame. The thing is, he wears these snug T-shirts all the time that make him look even bulkier. The muscular arms of his stretch the sleeves and his beer gut pokes out. Most of all, his pecs look huge in those tight shirts, and the guys on the team, behind his back we call him Tits McGhee.

Which makes me feel a little guilty making fun of him now that Coach has taken me under his wing. It’s been a tough couple of years since Dad’s passed away and Coach has always been there for me, with advice and help. I found myself hanging out at Coach’s on the weekends. I’d help him with chores, and he’d help me with my math and science homework. “You gotta keep your grades up if you want a scholarship, Kyle,” he’s say as he’d pull up a chair next to mine at the table and practically press his burly upper body against my shoulder and arm as he walked me through a problem.

It was great, only in those tutoring sessions I was starting to learn what a real spontaneous teen boner was. Uncontrollable, unstoppable. Coach G had that effect on me.

It all came to a head one warm Saturday. “I’m gonna take a dip in the pool, son,” Coach announced as I watched baseball on TV. “Wanna join.”

It sounded great. “Um, I didn’t bring a swimsuit, Coach.”

He told me I didn’t need one. “Go in those UA briefs if you feel shy. I usually take a nip nude, if that’s not gonna bother you.”

“No, sir,” I said, both nervous and thrilled about seeing Coach in the buff.

The sight was better than I expected. I tried to think of a million boner-killing things as I stripped down to my briefs. And I figured what the hell as I dropped those too. It’s not like they could hide anything and besides, I didn’t want Coach thinking I was a shy pussy.

“I’m not as in shape as you young guys,” Coach said as he got out of the pool, dripping wet. He was eyeing me up, and rather than make me feel as attractive as I’d ever felt in my life. But my attention was still riveted to his meaty body.

“You look great Coach,” I stammered. “I dunno, like a man.” It was corny and probably inappropriate thing to say, but it made Coach smile and his body visible relax.

“Yeah?” He asked, a grin on his face. “You like ol’ Tits McGhee’s body?”

I was mortified that he knew our nickname for him, but he winked to let me know there were no hard feelings. Best of all, he started flexing and contracting his pecs, making them pounce and jiggle.

I couldn’t stop it, my dick shot up. Full teen boner standing there in front of Coach. That just egged him on as he kept doing that thing with his big chest. His smaller but fat dick was firming up now, too.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, sir, but you got really awesome tits.”

Coach stepped up to me, circling his arms around me. It felt great to have my bone pressed into his hairy wet crotch.

“You’re a good kid, Carson,” he said as our lips met for my first man kiss.

Maturedadsandmen red hot coach @drakestories


Red hot Coach Daddy-In-Training, Dan Campbell

New head coach of the NFL Miami Dolphins


Coach Daddy Hall of Fame nomination

Graybeards dad i whispered as i pushed open @drakestories


“Dad?” I whispered as I pushed open the door to his bedroom. “Are you—” I stopped mid-sentence when I caught sight of him on his back, the covers cast aside leaving his thick, hairy body exposed. With mom out of town for the weekend, he’d asked me to wake him up in the morning, but I was suddenly in no hurry.

It wasn’t the first time I’d seen him naked, but before I’d only ever gotten furtive glances and ephemeral flashes of the man. Comforted by the gentle sound of my dad’s snoring, and the knowledge that the house was empty, I could finally gaze to my delight.

He was truly a wonder to behold, from his size 12 feet to his meaty torso there wasn’t an inch of him that wasn’t covered in that familiar black fur. I envied him, the archetypal man. Glancing down at my own body—slim and smooth as I was before I even hit puberty—I sighed. I’d given up hope of bulking up to dad’s size when I’d turned 20 and still looked 14. 

My heart began racing; all I wanted to do was reach out and touch dad’s gorgeous soft cock, but I resisted. I said a little louder, “Dad, wake up.” Nothing. I repeated myself again, yet louder. Nothing, for a moment.

Just as I prepared to raise my voice again, his left hand twitched a little before abruptly reaching to scratch his crotch. My mouth hung open as I watched dad unconsciously run his fingers over his bulbous balls. A jolt ran down his cock, causing it to jump and slap down a little bigger on his thigh. 

Between his snores, Dad mumbled, “Fuck yeah… good… there you go.” My mouth watered when I saw his cock growing ever larger along his hairy thigh. Holy shit, my father was having a sex dream. “That’s… wrap those lips around…” he said, punctuating his pauses with moans of pleasure.

I didn’t want to interrupt—I wanted it to last forever—but he’d told me to wake him up on time. I raised my voice, “Hey dad, it’s time to get up.”

He stirred a bit, but his eyes didn’t open and his cock didn’t soften. I readied a shout, but he moaned again before he mumbled, “Good boy… suck it.”

Boy? My mind raced.

Breathing deeply, I mustered the courage I required and took a step toward him. I knelt on the bed between dad’s thick thighs and felt my cheeks heating up as I got closer and more nervous. I needed this. Just once.

Wrapping my fingers around dad’s thick cock, I leaned down, closed my eyes, and wrapped my lips around him. His moans intensified, but the mumbling ceased. Feeling confident, I went to work on him. 

My friends had taught me to blow them in school, but I’d never had one this big before. It was intoxicating and enthralling, but so much so that I didn’t realize what was happening until my father cleared his throat above me.

I slowly, fearfully directed my gaze up as his grim face, suddenly readying a long list of apologies and explanations. We sat in silence for a few moments that felt more like a minutes, my mouth on his cock and his eyes locked with mine. Clearing his throat again, dad grinned down at me and said, “Hey, buddy. I was just having the nicest dream about you.”

Ill admit my heart skipped a beat when i saw @drakestories

I’ll admit, my heart skipped a beat when I saw him. Dressed in business casual… khakis, loafers, and a blue polo shirt that fit his gym-toned DILF bod to a T. He was standing in the bar area of the restaurant, in a part of downtown geared more to the expense account crowd. Jeff was in town on business and out of the blue had dropped me a line to see if I wanted to meet up.

I did. Jeff was my first serious relationship, my first “dad” in what has now become decidedly my type, and the first guy with whom I had a genuinely versatile arrangement in bed. I still get goosebumps thinking about the times we had in the sack. Just like now, as I take in the sight of a man who if anything looks hotter in his early fifties than he did when we were dating.

Regrets? Yeah, I had a bunch. But Jeff got transferred to another city a year and a half ago, when I was just starting my law program. It was too early in the relationship to have a conversation about my moving. And the age difference… yeah that was an issue, always is. Jeff’s about 25 years older than me.

When he saw me, he took off the reading glasses he was using to read the menu and perched them in the crook of the shirt’s V neck, which was an adorable thing that I dunno, just seemed like Jeff. His face broke into a big smile and any nervousness I’d felt melted away. The man always had that knack, whether he intended to or not. Always put me at ease.

“Bill, great to see you! Glad you could meet me.” We shook hands, laughed and then met in a hug. “You look great, buddy,” he said, patting my back in a brotherly, platonic fashion before we broker. “Been taking real good care of yourself, I can tell.”

I blushed, I’m sure. I had been putting a lot of time into exercise and keeping up my appearance, but his flattery was unexpected. “Thanks, studly,” i took a chance reprising my nickname for him. “Jesus, you’re looking pretty amazing yourself.”

I wasn’t trying to be flirty, honest, but there was just this electricity, as we stood in the bar filling up more and more with the after-work happy hour crowd, our bodies getting a little closer, legs grazing at first, then leaning in so we could talk above the din. Making small talk, catching up. Me remembering how much I loved Jeff’s sense of humor. And our bodies touching, slightly at first. Jeff’s hand on my shoulder, my knuckles nudging his hip.

“You dating anyone?” I finally got the courage to ask. Afraid of his answer.

He shook his head. “Actually, Bill, since we broke up, I’ve been playing the field a lot. I thought I was ready to settle down, but it’s been kind of fun, I gotta say. More than I expected.” He had a shy, guilty grin.

“Yeah?” I laughed. Jeff was such a button-down conservative guy, it was funny to see this side of him.

He nodded. “I gotta credit you, Bill, you gave me one hell of a confidence boost. Let me embrace my age. Turns out there are a hell of a lot of guys into daddy types.”

“I could have told you that. But you’re as hot as they come, Jeff. You know that, right?” The flattery made him smile, and I could tell he was thinking of saying something.

I took a chance. I let my hand travel up his hip and wrap around his waist, resting along his lower back. He didn’t say anything so I cupped my hand to a still position, holding him. The connection and the idea that we might be having sex that night made me bone up.

Jeff squeezed my shoulder muscle in response and winked. “I didn’t ask, Bill. You seeing anyone?”

I nodded. “Yeah, I’ve started seeing this guy. But it’s not exclusive yet.”

“I don’t want to mess anything up.”

“You aren’t. Besides, that’s my call to make. My shit to figure out.” I paused. Wondering how far I should go with Jeff in admitting how I felt. “You know I still got big soft spot for you, Studly?”

“The same for you,” he replied, his voice sad and a little husky with emotion.

“It’s like we got unfinished business, still,” I ventured.

“Yeah, but it’s gonna have to stay that way Bill. Unfinished. Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” I said, patting his lower back. “Things worked out how they did. It’s a mistake to dredge all this back up.” I removed my hand and leaned back against the bar, surveying the room. It was full-on packed now, and I was starting to feel a slight buzz from my beer.

“It is,” Jeff said, leaning in again. “But Bill…. My hotel is a block away. What do you think about going and making a mistake or two before dinner?”

A4f101 grrrr what do you say bill @drakestories


Grrrr… what do you say, Bill?


Like the title says. No games here, I’m the real deal. Very fit corporate executive looking for playmate. Me: 6’4” 205# trim, br/bl, 7.5c, top. Can’t fuck the hotties in my company without HR breathing down my neck, so I need some relief bad.

You: 20s or 30s, cute young business bro… finance, law, advertising, dress for success asskisser type. Lean to jock build, it’s all good, must look great in those slim cut suits you wear to the office. Must be eager to suck up to your boss in the bedroom.

Casual at first, we’ll see if it clicks for something regular.

Daddysbottom as i stood back and looked at the @drakestories


As I stood back and looked at the offered ass, I was thinking that that might be the hottest thing that I had ever done with my big brother Mike. Shit, not even us banging that cheerleader after the homecoming game was anywhere close to this one.

For the past couple of hours, Mike and I had been fucking tag-team on that hot ass. Mike started first, and as soon as he shot his load inside that butt, I replaced him and pounded that hole. That ass felt silky smooth with a coating of Mike’s cum, and I didn’t last very long. But by the time I shoved the last drop of my cum into that hungry ass, Mike was ready to go again.

We took our turn, and that ass kept milking our dicks as many times as we wanted. Shit, I think I shot 3 times and Mike shot 4 times inside that hole. By then, cum was dripping out of the well-fucked hole, but he was still asking for more when he hiked his butt up higher and wiggling it at us.

“Go on, Dave. It’s your turn. Give it to him as hard as you can.” Mike said as he sat down on the chair, his body covered with sweat, trying to recover from the last bout of fucking.

I coated my semi-hard cock with more lube, and started to stroke it to get it to full hardness. Shit, that ass was going to drain my ball dry by the time this is all over. But the thought that we had the house all to ourselves for the next couple of days made me excited, and made my cock hard in no time. As I aim my cockhead at the puckered opening, I just knew that Mike and I will be fucking dad’s ass non-stop the entire time we were here before Mom came home.

It took me a few years but now that im 30 ive @drakestories

It took me a few years but now that I’m 30 I’ve fully embraced my love of older dad types. My friends consider it an obsession even, and have been trying to get me to date guys closer to my own age. Especially after my relationship with Kevin went south so quickly. Sex was always hot between us, but we couldn’t work it out as boyfriends somehow.

But I’m not at the beach for the week to mope, and I’m happy to let my hair down a little. So when my friend Chris plops down on the towel next to me after making the rounds in the dunes, I’m thinking I might want to scout out some no-strings fun myself.

“Any luck?” I ask.

He nods, but blushes. “Sam, I don’t know if I should tell you, but I saw Kevin in the dunes.”

“Yeah?” I reply, pretending it doesn’t faze me. I think for a moment, then stand up. “Maybe I’ll go say hi.”

“Sam, I don’t think you should,” my friend cautioned but already I was walking off.

Sure thing, my ex was there on his knees giving head to some young guy, a lithe hunk my age or a little younger. I thought I’d be jealous but, well, maybe it was the sea air but I was mostly turned on. Kevin’s really talented at sucking dick and it was amazing to watch his technique in action, on someone else. Pretty soon, Young Guy’s body was tensing up and he was holding Kev’s head down on his orgasming dick. He had a satisfied smile on his face as he walked up the dune and past me.

“Your turn dude, the guy’s incredible.”

I didn’t think, didn’t process the emotions of the scenario. I just peeled down my swimsuit and let my erection free and rise into the breeze. Kevin noticed me by now but didn’t make any move to get off his knees. A million emotions flittered on his face, and I got the feeling he expected me to say something.

Instead I stepped up. I was horny and I wanted Kevin Murray’s hot cocksucking mouth on me once more. For old times sake.

Kev was starting to relax a little and focus his attention on my dick which waved inches in front of him. “God, I missed this dick,” he muttered and grabbed my prick, pulling it forward into his mouth.

Fuck, I’d missed this too! Kev’s talented mouth working me up with slow steady motions, his tongue and suction working in tandem. I missed the silvery head of hair, running my fingers through it, caressing his head, encouraging him. I missed the sense of power over his muscular DILF body.

“Fuck, Kev, that’s it… oh fuck, man, I’m gonna cum.” And I blasted.

As always, Kevin continued to suckle and stimulate my prick with his tongue, and as always I had to pull back when the postcoital pleasure became painful.

“Damn,” I said.

“Yeah, damn,” Kevin said, finally standing up.

We stood facing each other, neither of us knowing what to say. “I better get back,” I finally said, feeling awkward.

“Yeah,” Kevin said. I could see disappointment in his face. Why had we broken things off?

“Listen, I’m gonna be at the A-House around 11 tonite. If you wanna….” I didn’t even know what I was asking of the man.

“Yeah, sounds good,” he said, wiping the spittle and sperm from his mouth.

Realcandidmen i know what im having for lunch @drakestories


I know what I’m having for lunch…

Maturedadsandmen my sons history teacher @drakestories


My son’s history teacher called me in for a conference after school hours.  I hated taking the time off work to deal with this.  My bad mood changed the minute I laid eyes on the guy, though.  The guy was a fuckin’ Grade A salt-and-pepper haired silver fox stud!  He looked to be about my age.

After the guy spent 15 minutes telling me all of the things Junior had done to get himself of the cusp of being suspended, I told the teacher that I’d be willing to do anything to make sure my son doesn’t get suspended.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Stevens, you can’t pay me off to ignore your son’s bad behavior.”

“I think there’s been a misunderstanding,” I retorted.  “I’m not talking about giving you money.”  I reached down and massaged the front of my pants to show him my meaning.  His eyes got wide, but he didn’t appear repulsed or tell me to get the fuck out of his classroom.

Needless to say, History is one subject Junior doesn’t have to worry about flunking.  Maybe I should meet his other male teachers…

[This is a continuation of maturedadsandmen’s excellent story caption to one of my favorite pictures.]

I definitely have a plum job for a teacher. Rich suburb, well-funded school district, and while the kids can sometimes act entitled, basically they’re good students, smart, hardworking, few problems.

But the job’s not without it’s headaches, particularly from the interference of the parents, and Matt Stevens Sr is a grade-A headache and a half. Father of one of my students, an affable but lazy Matt, Jr., Senior’s a bit gruff finance man, still carrying the broad-shouldered demeanor of his days as football captain for Princeton. Always reminding me how valuable his time was. Oh, and did you know he went to Princeton? And that his fucking tax dollars are paying my salary? So yeah, the parent-teacher conferences never went that well, particularly as Stevens Sr implied I should be going easy on his son.

But I bit my tongue, knowing who was calling the shots in this school district. It didn’t hurt that Stevens was a hunk. Dude pushed my buttons in a big way, from the broad-cut expensive suits, to his salt-and-pepper hair, hell even his curt demeanor gave me a bit of a boner. I’m a professional, but no harm in filing away some visual and sensory details for my hate-lust stroke session later on, right?

I was so engrossed in examining the well-shaved stubble on his chin that I almost didn’t hear him.

“I’m not talking about giving you money,” he said, and I watched in disbelief as his broad hairy hand went down and gripped the full crotch in his suit. Fuck, this dad had a major boner.

“Wow,” I stammered. Quickly losing control of this situation.

Stevens seemed to feed off my deer in the headlights look. He grinned as he undid and took of his tie, and started unbuttoning his dress shirt. The chest hair was even more beautiful with silvery hairs accenting the fur.

“I like a little extracurricular time away from the wife,” he whispered, in a hoarse masculine voice. “You’re gay right?”

I nodded. Unable to speak as he stood up and undid his trousers, letting them fall to the floor. The man had gone commando and a steely erection stood up. He carefully removed the pants and sat back down. “You got a boyfriend, a partner, Mr. Stansell?”

“No, sir,” I replied meekly, unsure what I would be doing if I did have one.

“Cool,” he said, and spread his legs. He looked at me intently, expectantly. “Stansell, my time’s pretty fucking valuable, so if you don’t mind….” He nodded down to his hard prick poking up from his bared crotch. The framing of his suit coat and open shirt just made the sight that much hotter.

I should have more self-respect but this was my fantasy on a silver platter. I scooted forward and leaned down. And sucked my student’s father’s cock as the man placed those ex-football player hands on my head and guided me down.

Mightymeatycock couldnt tell you how his team @drakestories


Couldn’t tell you how his team is doing, but ever since the Bears hired Ryan Pace as general manager my hole twitches every time I see him TV.

It’s like a checklist of a lot of the things about a guy that can make me hot. Tall? Check. Beefy, yet lean. Beautiful face, prominent nose, long fingers, graying temples, a sexy voice.

Probably packing a nice veiny cock in those standard-issue coach khakis, too. 

Hugyerbud geezus sport you sure that was the @drakestories


Geezus, sport! You sure that was the first time you’ve ever sucked a dick?! Cuz you just blew my mind too…

Graybeards tom panted above me resting his @drakestories


Tom panted above me, resting his knees against the couch and his cock on my outstretched tongue. His thick white cum was painted all over my face and his the obscene length of his manhood was still slick from sliding down my throat. 

The older man—my future father-in-law—exhaled sharply and said, “Phew, looks like I made a mess, kid.” I cracked my eyelids to see him grinning down at me as he continued, “Here, let me clean that up.” 

The man took his cock in hand and sloppily mopped up his load off my forehead to slap his cum-covered head back on my tongue. He shoved the still-hard flesh between my lips and let me suck down his cooled seed before going back for another pass.

It took a few trips, but—satisfied that he’d managed to feed me everything he hadn’t rubbed into my skin—he ruffled my hair and said, “Such a nice boy for my Jessica.” At the mention of my fiancee, I realized in full clarity what had just transpired. My cheeks turned bright red with humiliation. He noticed my sudden change of expression and laughed, “Don’t worry, son. This is our little secret.”

Tom slid back and stood up in front of the couch, sliding his flannel boxers back up those hairy legs. My voice trembled as I asked, “But didn’t your wife hear?” His orgasm hadn’t been a quiet one.

Another laugh. “I’m sure she did, son, but she doesn’t mind me getting my knob polished once in a while.” Stepping forward, he towered over me as he grimly explained, “She knows who she married, but I think it’s best if Jessica never knows about you.” With a wink, his eyes were friendly once more. “Now, why don’t you head on home? I’ll be seeing you again real soon.”

Things im grateful for visible nipple action @drakestories

Things I’m Grateful For: visible nipple action

I finished toweling off in my bedroom hoping to @drakestories

I finished toweling off in my bedroom, hoping to catch him before he’d dressed and left. There he was, a perfect 49 year old silver-haired DILF. Unlike most men, he put his shirt on first, rather than his underwear, so with his thighs spread I could see the genitals that just ten minutes ago had been engorged, powerful…. fucking me. His cock lost some its size in its rest mode, but I could feel the stretch and now emptiness in my asshole and the spermy wetness of his seed buried in me.

I was Dave Kaplan’s booty call. Yeah, I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t take him as a boyfriend, in a heartbeat. But that’s not how it was between us. It always played out very much like tonight. Me, getting off work, receiving a text from Dave K. “Up for meeting up tonite?” Sometimes I’d get these texts three times a week. If Dave was dating someone I wouldn’t hear from him at all. Inevitably, I’d rush home and get ready. Clean myself out and shower before Dave arrived. Sometimes our sessions were quick, sometimes long, but they always got me off. Big.

“Be in touch?” Dave K said in his laconic voice, as he slipped his slacks back on.

“Yeah, sure,” I said, nonchalant. I could easy to bend over for another fuck, right then and there, but a man can’t be greedy.

A4f101 my go to guys double down mario and @drakestories


My Go-To Guys Double Down

Mario and Robbie were my go-to guys. Absolute powerhouses, big and ripped, especially for their age, absolute killers on the field, the guys the rest of my team looked up to most. Born leaders. Good kids. Destined for big things. Their teammates jokingly called them the Twins, even though Mario was a year older, but they were built damn near identically, and looked so similar that they could have passed for twins, absolutely. I’d met their Dad, was pretty good friends with the guy, and his boys took after him very strongly - in looks, in build, in intellect, and most definitely in cock size.

These after-hours training sessions with them were my favorite thing. They’d approached me last year, looking to ramp up their training, maximize their effectiveness on the field. Most kids will do just what you tell them to, bitch about it, even if they love the work, love what it’s doing for their big young bods. Eh, teenagers - goes with the territory. But every so often, you get a student who’s looking to go above and beyond, a young man with a plan, motivation, and the drive to make himself the best he can be. A special kind of student. And lucky me, I had two of them, and they were even more special than I originally thought.

“Good job today, men,” I said, and the big, pleased, proud grins they gave me, the way they puffed up their big, hard-muscled teen chests, made me grin right back. These one-on-one sessions - or one-on-two, I guess - gave me time for more personal feedback, tailored instruction, extra dedication to their needs as young men and athletes, to repay the dedication these boys gave me. I knew they were getting plenty at home, but Bob Salvatore had given me the personal go-ahead to give them everything they needed. We understood each other real well on that score, and working together, the big guys absolutely thrived.

Mario slung his arm around Robbie’s thick young neck, rubbing his thick, sweaty hair with affectionate playfulness. Seeing them so tight, so happy to work together, reminded me very strongly of how good it could be growing up with close, friendly, supportive brothers. And seeing these guys lean in, big muscled torsos gleaming with sweat, and softly kiss in front of me brought back even better, stronger memories of brotherly times.

Mario’s big hands ran up his little brother’s lats, murmuring appreciatively as the 16-year-old stud flexed up for him. Stroking those big, fresh-pumped muscles, squeezing them, leaning in to kiss them, lick up the sweat that rolled slow and steady over that prime young jockflesh. Robbie’s hungry moan as his brother came in to kiss him with sweat-tasting lips and tongue made my big coach cock leak in my jock. This bond between them was what had ultimately convinced me to take them on for special extra training, watching the hot, hunky young jock brothers kiss and explore each other with clearly practiced ease and intimacy, while their father and I watched them, that long, intense evening in the gym.

Robbie tugged at Mario’s severely tented mesh practice shorts, yanking them down over his big, round, muscled big bro ass, down his thick thighs, all manly with fur and thick, powerful muscles. The kid was a beast on the squat rack, and it paid off not just on the field, but in the feel of those big, man-sized jockboy glutes in your hands as you parted them to explore his lightly furred crevice. And of course, Robbie was no lightweight himself, his own big, strong rump and thighs just as exciting to touch, taste, explore. The kid loved to get in a punishing lower body workout, then have me and his big brother lick, kiss, explore his marble-carved quads, calves, thighs and glutes with our hands and tongues while he flexed up for us.

Now they were both down to sweat-soaked jocks, embracing tight, moaning lustily as they explored each other’s mouths with those thick, talented brother tongues of theirs, hard-bulged pouches crammed with big teen jock cocks, hunching slowly, deeply together, as each brother squeezed and explored his brother’s fine muscled ass. I stepped in close, seeing their big, easy, horny, welcoming grins as they each slipped an arm around me and fondled my bigger, older man’s body. I growled with pleasure, pulling them in close to kiss each one in turn, sliding my thick, experienced tongue into each young mouth in turn, and then bringing both in tight for a three-way kiss.

These boys had made many of my most heated, secret fantasies come true - watching them kiss passionately as I took turns dicking each of their big, hard, round asses in my bed was just one of the many memories seared on my brain from the past year or so - and I would do just about anything for them. Hell, the hot little fucks were very into the idea of sharing me, particularly sharing my furry, muscled ass and hole together. We’d worked on it, training and loosening and stretching my hole. I wasn’t afraid to turn my ass up for them, had done it countless times already. Bob just couldn’t take both their big, thick young cocks together, they’d tried, but I’d been fucking since I was 14, nearly two decades now, and I knew a trick or two. Three horny older jock brothers had a way of teaching you all kinds of new things about your body and your capacity to go to the next level.

I rubbed my big hands up and down the thick, sweat-slicked muscles of their backs as they kissed again, barely an inch from my lips. I never got tired of this, but it was time for something else. Something more. A reward for all their hard work and dedication. I reached down to cup their perfect jock tails in each hand, pushing their crotches together again. Another simmering, sloppy kiss between us all. They grinned at me with adoration, jockboy love for their big young coach, eyes sparkling expectantly, their own hands roaming up and down my own shirtless muscled torso.

“Let’s hit the showers, boys,” I smiled. “I think it’s time you got Coach soaped up real good, nice and loose. Time to step it up to the next level, what do you say?”

The boyishly excited look they shot each other was swiftly followed with a searingly hot, intense, sexual smolder they shot me as they leaned in to kiss me, hard and hungry and dripping with spit and sweat. Big, hungry, motivated, talented boys. It was time to see more of how they worked together, time to give my hole up to a shared brothers experience. Time to take teamwork to the next level, with my best, most favorite young studs.

More stories like this at

Mickspicsandstories a4f101 grade a beef @drakestories




(via TumbleOn)


My chair was facing the water, his faced the sun. I wondered if he was really watching the action on the beach behind those dark glasses. I didn’t care if I got caught. I couldn’t help but stare. That grayish hair and skimpy swimsuit revved my imagination into overdrive. His wife sat next to him tapping away on her phone, oblivious to the hotness next to her. How could she be so blind?

His hand ran down his hairy body and rested it over the growing mound. He scratched and pulled at his swimsuit, while lightly tracing his finger around the edges of the green circles. I could hardly breathe. Suddenly, he pulled up his sunglasses. He stared directly into my eyes. He winked at me. I smiled and licked my lips. After a minute, he got up and walked toward the bathhouse showers. I wasn’t far behind.

Graybeards inchargedad daddy likes to play @drakestories



Daddy likes to play with his toys.

“You like that?” He asked softly—so softly it took young Sam by surprise. 

Logan’s fingers teased and caressed the young man’s hole, and Sam gasped, “Yes.” Logan was never this gentle, unless… unless he wanted the one thing he refused to take from Sam, the one thing he would make Sam give up on his own. 

“Your pussy is hungry today,” the older man observed. “Does my boy need a man inside him?” Sam moaned as his boss slid a thick finger up inside him. Logan growled and said, “Of course you do.”

Sam squirmed as another finger, and then another, pushed inside him until he could feel the man’s wedding ring rubbing against his hole. Logan asked, “How long has it been? Since I fucked you?”

“Two months and four days,” Sam answered, failing to conceal the whine in his voice.

“Poor boy, but you know what I want,” Logan said coldly. His voice rebounded as he matter-of-factly asked, “Well then, where does my boy want daddy to cum today? Down your throat? On your face again? Perhaps I’ll drench that pathetic little dick of yours.”

Sam paused, his mouth hanging ajar but no words escaping, before he whispered, “In my hole.”

Logan grinned wide and rubbed Sam’s hole hard with his fingers. “What’s that? I couldn’t hear you, boy.”

The young man gulped nervously and repeated, “Please cum in my hole.”

Logan jammed his fingers deep inside Sam and growled, “Which hole is that? You mean your pussy, boy?”

“Yes!” Sam yelped. 

“Don’t mind if I do,” the older man said as he rose from his seat and quickly pinned Sam against the desk. Logan shoved his leaking, rigid cock right inside the young man before he could even protest. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, this pussy feels amazing.”

Gentle Logan was gone. He thrusted fast and hard, slamming Sam’s hole to open up the tight piece of ass. Sam cried out for him to slow down, but the man wasn’t listening.

As suddenly as he’d penetrated the young man, Logan paused with his cock buried inside Sam and his hands gripping fistfuls of ass. The only sound was Logan’s heavy breaths as his furry chest rose and fall beneath his ruffled suit. Logan leaned down to Sam’s ear and whispered, “Do you want it? Do you want me to cum, boy?”

Sam did, but he hesitated a moment before answering, “Yes, sir.”

“Beg for it,” Logan said sharply.

The young man turned his head to see his older lover’s stern eyes looking back at him, offering no other recourse. Sam squirmed as Logan slowly gyrated his cock deep inside the boy. He repeated himself, “Beg for it. I’m not cumming until you do.”

Sam’s confusion faded, and he felt insulted. He thought to himself, “Why should I beg? He’s the one who wants this.” But every slow thrust of the man’s leaking cock sent shocks through Sam’s body. He couldn’t help himself as he moaned and trembled in the older man’s powerful embrace.

“Well?” Logan asked. “Should I pull out?”

“No!” Sam cried back.

“Alright, I’m done here. I’ll just go home and fuck Sarah,” Logan snarled as he slowly started pulling his cock from Sam’s hole.

“Wait!” Sam whined, “No, you can cum in me.” Logan slowed, but didn’t stop, pulling back. “Please cum in me, sir.” Logan froze. “I need your big cock in my pussy.”

Logan smiled and whispered, “There’s a good boy.” He held nothing back when he slammed his cock back into the boy, and he kept thrusting until his cock was bloating even more. Sam’s muscles constricted around the man’s cock as his fucking drove the boy to orgasm, spewing cum all over the desk. Logan couldn’t contain himself any more when he realized he’d made the boy cum without touching himself.

A massive gush of cum erupted from the older man’s cock, spraying deep inside Sam’s guts. Logan felt his knees weaken. He lay his chest on the boy’s back, but kept on thrusting as his huge load shot in gusher after gusher of thick seed. 

When all was done, Logan collapsed on top of the boy and felt cum leaking around his slightly softened manhood as he whispered, “Damn, boy, you better take a pregnancy test after that, just in case. Your pussy is mine now.” 

With Sam’s face buried against the desk, Logan couldn’t see the boy’s smile. “It’s all yours, boss.”

Realcandidmen that time i saw colby keller @drakestories


That time I saw Colby Keller walking down the street…

…. And your buddy Bill was too busy checking out the business dude behind him.

It was my first week in ptown but id quickly @drakestories

It was my first week in Ptown but I’d quickly found myself part of a circle of regulars, older guys who liked to top younger studs. The Daddy Crew I found out we were called. A couple of years ago I’d bristle at that name, but now I embraced it. I’m 44 and going gray, so I’ll make it work for me.

By Tuesday I noticed that one of the guys in the Crew, Mark, got a disproportionate amount of attention from younger guys. Tall guys, short guys, twinks and muscle bunnies, all different types seemed to come up to him at the bar. And by the end of the evening, he was going home with not one but two of them.

I was puzzled. I mean, Mark’s an OK looking guy I suppose, but not someone you’d particularly notice. Medium height, beefy build, thinning hair, a little 40-something padding on him. You know, regular average looking guy. And he’s not a gregarious person with an outgoing personality.

I had my answer the next day at the beach. We were all hanging out, enjoying the clothing optional part of the beach. I didn’t think much of the scenario, until Mark stood and watched a group of really hot 20-something guys walk buy. He watched, openly, lewdly and from his crotch his prick rose up into a steely erection. Talk about being a grower, Mark’s dong was real fat. Beer can territory, a blunt cock with a rounded head, and he proudly showed it off to the guys who were practically giggling at the sight. I watched as the young men walked further down the beach, then turning back, one of them, a brown-haired modeleqsue stud, jogs back along the sand and up the dune’s edge to where Mark’s standing.

“Hey, I’m Jase,” he says, a flirty grin on his cute face.

“Mark,” came the stoic reply, though Mark had a hint of a grin as he stood, hands on his hips and erection pointing up.

Maturedadsandmen its 700pm and nearly everyone @drakestories


It’s 7:00pm and nearly everyone has left for the day.  Even so, you know you shouldn’t have your dick out in your office.  Anyone could walk in.  How could you possibly explain it?  Sure.  You could tell them your partner has been out of town for a week on business and you’re so horny you can’t stand it.  But office decorum doesn’t have an “I’m horny” clause.  Besides, your assistant has been driving you crazy all day.  That firm ass of his.  He’s been flirting with you too.  Okay…he always flirts with you.  You’re his boss and you knew from day one when you hired him that he had a thing for you.  But because you’re so damn horny today, the flirting is taking its toll.  Sliding your fingers up and down your freed erection feels too good to let go.

Suddenly, your horniness gets the better of you.  Frank allows you one hall pass a year and you’re too in need of release NOT to use it right now.  You hit the speaker on your desk phone and dial.  He picks up, “Yes, Mr. Richards?”

“Seth, could you come in here please?  I have something important that I want to share with you.”

“Sure.  Be right there!”

This could go one of two ways.  Either he’ll fall to his knees and suck your week-long load down his throat or you’ll be paying a visit to HR sometime within the next few days.  Once he’s opened the door and the shock of seeing his boss, cock out and eyes full of need, wears off you know which way this is gonna play out.  The lick of his lips told you as much.

“Lock the door, Seth.”  He complies and then walks slowly toward you, a lump quickly forming in his slacks.  Frank’s not due back for another couple days.  As Seth begins tonguing your dick, you contemplate bringing him home with you and finding out what lengths he’ll go to to please his boss.

Inchargedad need a daddy who likes to breed @drakestories


Need a daddy who likes to breed extra tight holes.

You should enable your ask feature so Daddies who want to use your holes can contact you.

Things I’m Grateful For: extra lubed butts.

Daddysbottom as a scouting coach for a major @drakestories


As a scouting coach for a major college football program, I’m used to getting a bit of a special treatment when I visit many of these high schools looking for new freshmen recruits. But no one really knows the kind of personal, special treatment that I regularly get. Shit, these kids, and sometime, even their parents, would do anything to get their kids into our program.

Just take this hot young stud Marcus. He’s an outstanding wide receiver, and has a body of a Greek Adonis. After I saw him in action, I chatted with him briefly. He was more than eager to join the team and was willing to do “anything”, he said, to get an offer. I even met with his dad outside the stadium, and we chatted a bit more. And much to my surprise, his dad even suggested that his son came up to my hotel room the next day so that I can “get to know him better”. I looked at the dad and he actually winked at me.

Holy cow!” I said to myself. “This father is pimping out his own son and he knows it!”

So Marcus showed up at my hotel room promptly the next day before I had to rush to the airport. And before long, he was naked, on the bed, legs wide open, while I pounded his tight ass. And Marcus was very eager to please. I was about to suit up my hard cock when he told me that he wanted it raw from me. I wasn’t going to argue. I had to moan when I entered him because the raw sensation of my dick rubbing against the inside of his ass was just exquisite. His ass was definitely tighter and more pleasurable than my wife’s pussy.

I fucked his ass like there was no tomorrow, especially since I have very little time left before I had to leave. But it didn’t take long before I cried out and deposited my cum deep inside his butt. The stud took it all, even squeezing his ass muscles to milk every last drop out of my balls.

I caught my plane just in time, and I was off to the next scouting location. But not before I told Marcus that we will be inviting him to visit our campus some time soon. I didn’t tell him that I expected to get into his ass again, but from the smile on his face, I was sure he knew.


Yachirobi wow coach you werent kidding when @drakestories


Wow, Coach! You weren’t kidding when you said you were gonna get back in shape. You look fucking incredible!

Wait. Uh, sir? Sir, you’re… uh… looks like you’re kinda excited!

You’re really excited.

I guess I’m getting excited too.

You’re not gonna tell the other guys, are you?

Fuck. Yes, let’s do this.

Hell yeah, I’ll call you Daddy! And you can call me son.




Mother fuck, you are big, Daddy.

Lukas Duncan (He’s actually way younger than I thought but that’s makes the picture hotter.)

It took a little adjustment but i was getting to @drakestories

It took a little adjustment but I was getting to used to Dad living with me now. Particularly moments like this, when I walk in after a day of work and see my father nude in the desk chair, stroking off his fat cock. He seemed to be really into it, jacking to a video of two younger men going at it bareback.

“You gonna spend all your retirement jacking off?” I teased as I set down my briefcase and undid my tie.

Dad looked up at me with a grin. “Cut your old man some slack. I get horny sitting here waiting for you to get home. I mean, damnit the whole house smells like your cologne.” He leaned back and showed off a throbbing erection that dripped steadily down the length and onto his nutsac.

“Nice,” I said, and leaned down to kiss my father, trading tongues hungrily with him. I gave his erection a quick stroke, feeling the stickiness of the precum. I pulled my hand up and swiped it with my tongue, savoring the preview of what’s to come. “Give me fifteen minutes? I want to get ready for you.”

“I waited all afternoon, a few more minutes is fine,” he growled, pulling me into a heavy kiss again.

I stripped off my suit in my bedroom, now our bedroom and walked to the master bathroom. I cleaned myself out good, doing an extra go to be extra clean. Then a quick rinse in the shower. I toweled off and applied a healthy application of lube on and in my hole.

My skin was still damp and my hair dripping when I walked back into the living room. Dad heard me enter but pretended to be engrossed in the fuck video. It was a little joke of his, acting as if he wasn’t eager to fuck me. I stepped in front of him, blocking the view of the computer with my backside.

“I thought you’d want the real thing,” I said as I reached back and gripped his hard dadcock and squatted toward it.

“Fuck son,” he growled as he sank in. “Feels so good.” I was feeling pretty awesome myself, I’d been thinking all day about this, fucking myself on Dad, bouncing my tight 27 year old ass up and down on him.

“Glad you decided to take an early retirement?” I asked, getting into the inner tissue massage dad’s prick was giving me.

Instead of answering, Dad pivoted up and pushed me forward toward the desk as he assumed a standing fuck position. He didn’t miss a beat but rather used the new leverage to throw me a steady, assertive fuck.

A4f101 hospitality this ones for you chris @drakestories



This one’s for you, Chris ;)

“Well, make yourself at home,” I said. “It’s probably not as good as being at a hotel, but…”

“Are you kidding, bud?” he said, his hand squeezing my shoulder. “This is miles better. Besides, it saves the taxpayers a few bucks, and with an election coming up…”

“Hell, there’s no way you won’t get re-elected,” I chuckled. “I doubt they’d begrudge you a couple nights at a Hampton for a big conference.”

“Well, I appreciate the vote of confidence,” he said, and I could hear the smile in his voice as his big mitt tightened on my shoulder again. “But even if they sprung for the Hilton, I think I’d rather be here.”

I was glad to have him. I’d been down here in Florida just a few months, and didn’t really know anybody but my coworkers down at the station. When I heard he was coming down for the big law enforcement expo, I jumped at the chance to put him up in my guest room. I’d missed the big guy, and it was good to crack open a couple of beers and catch up on things back home in Virginia, and tell him some of the crazy stories about being a State Trooper down here in bugshit-crazy land. We were rolling with laughter before long, and it just felt real good inside, having him back around.

He was looking just as good as ever, his blond hair still thick and full, even if it was a little more silvery than it used to be, cut high and tight the way he’d worn it for as long as I could remember. Looked like he was still hitting the gym just as hard, his shoulders and chest just as big and muscle-swollen as ever, his thighs thick and powerful in his jeans. He might have been 50, but he sure didn’t look it. I hoped I’d be able to say the same when i got to his age, for sure.

“Well, if you ain’t got plans, I might get out of these clothes and get comfy, bud,” he said after our second round of beers.

“Go right ahead, sir,” I said, showing him where the bathroom was before heading back to the living room. I had tomorrow off, and was thinking real hard about another beer. Thinking real hard about him, too.

I choked a little on that third beer when he strolled back into the room ten minutes later, absolutely bareass-naked, that half-grin on his face as I spluttered and coughed. Fuck, he looked even better than I remembered. His belly had that little bit of middle-aged swell even the fittest man gets, but it looked damn good on him, as good as the thick blond hairs that curled over his big, mounded pecs and the still-prominent bulges of his abs. His ass was still high, tight and thick, dimpling deeply as he walked back to the couch, that big ol’ dick of his swinging comfortably between his powerful thighs.

“Told you I was gettin’ comfy, son,” he said with that twinkle in his eye. Then he reached for my beer and took a long pull on it.

I just stared up at him, beginning to throw a major bone in my shorts as I stared up at his awesome form. Never failed - seeing my Dad like this always did this to me, had since I was 16 or so, when we’d first gotten naked together for some real serious man-time.

“Another good reason not to go to a hotel,” he said in that low, deep voice. “I get to spend some quality time with my boy again, nobody to disturb us.”

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I sometimes flag longer pieces not on Tumblr as Story of the Week. But this, this amazing tale, is one hell of a Story of The Week.

Mightymeatycock ed was a good ten years older @drakestories


Ed was a good ten years older than me. He was a handsome guy, hiding under a nerd’s uniform - baggy, pleated pants and a shirt that perpetually had a stack of pens in it (and falling out of it). 

He offered to share a ride with someone to our industry conference in Columbus, and I agreed. 

Our first hour was all small talk, but Ed started complaining about his wife’s lack of interest in sex, and that he missed his college days. “You must know what I’m talking about, right?” 

“Not really, Ed,” I replied. “I’m single, and as everyone in our office knows, I’m gay. I get to have a lot of adventures, and a lot of sex.” 

Ed’s face brightened. “Really? Like what?”

Well, he asked. 

“Well, I’ve been fooling around with this married guy and……”

“Define fooling around, Chris,” he grumbled. “I’m not in grade school, man!” 

“Well,” I said, unsure how to be begin. “Oral sex, fucking…….”

“Are you the pitcher or the catcher, Chris?” he asked earnestly.

I looked him in the eye. “I’m the catcher. I’m always, always the catcher,” i explained. “Some guys can be both, but I really enjoy that feeling.”

I could see the front of Ed’s pants - those pleated monstrosities - throwing a huge tent. 

“What feeling is that, Chris?” he asked, letting his free hand rest on his growing bulge. 

“The feeling,” I said, “of having the cock of a man - particularly an older man - buried deep in my throat. Or having him tell me to lay back and spread my legs wide, so he can stretch open my cunt, and bury his cock deep inside of me there.”

I was bone hard myself now.

“Having him deep in side of me, rutting and fucking me like the stud that he is, breeding me with all of the hot cum his wife doesn’t want anywhere near her,” I said, our eyes meeting.

His face got a big smirk on it, and I looked down to see that he’d opened his fly, and his meaty, sizeable cock was pointing up. 

“You better be able to check us in quick, Chris,” he growled. “’Cause we’re skipping the first seminar. I got six months of cum saved up, and you’re gonna take every drop.” 

Knkyfkrnkc ran into a buddy from high school @drakestories


Ran into a buddy from High School outside my office today. Hadn’t seen him since graduation. It was sort of awkward at first–I’d obviously more successful career-wise in the past seven years. Here I was, a suit-and-tie professional while he was working two low-paying jobs to provide for his wife and two kids. I’d mentioned my wife briefly in passing while he brought up his marriage, his wedding, his wife, being a husband, being a dad every time there was an awkward lull in the conversation.  I was about to make an excuse to get on my way when he started in on how we’d been more friend-of-a-friend buds back in the day and how he’d always wished we’d gotten to know each other better because he thought we’d have had some good times. Yeah, he said, real good. Another awkward pause, this time punctuated by a quick glance around, a nod that afforded him a few seconds to check out my crotch, and a look of hunger and submission when he looked into my eyes. I’d seen that look in other men’s eyes over the years and more than a few times had taken advantage of the meaning behind it. But never in a million years did I think the quarterback of my High School football team would be sucking my cock in my office. The QB slobbing the knob of the Captain of the soccer team, making up for lost time.

I had third period with coach jackson id help @drakestories

I had third period with Coach Jackson. I’d help him out with putting up and sorting the equipment. When he found I was good at computers, I helped him get a few of his spreadsheets in order.

“Not a dumb jock, are ya, Connelly?”

“No sir,” I laughed. I could see how I’d fit the stereotype, but I was quietly very good at school, had high grades.

“Thinking about where you’re applying for college?”

“Not sure yet, Coach.”

“Ever consider Stanford?” Coach J was a Stanford alum, and in case you didn’t know it from the cardinal red ball cap or sweatshirt or athletic shorts he wore, he was always talking about it. It got to be a joke among the fellas.

“Not sure I could get in,” I said. “Besides, it’s pretty expensive.”

“Aw you got the throwing arm for a scholarship, Connelly. Amazing for a sophomore. Best I’ve seen in a long time. As for the rest, just study your ass off next year and you have a shot. And when it comes time to write your statement, just play up the whole jock who loves learning bit. Admissions committees eat that shit up.” This was my favorite part of third period. The fact Coach let his guard down around me, and was free to cuss and talk like a buddy or a father figure.

“Yes, sir,” I laughed.

It was a long shot, but I made it my goal. My social life suffered the next year, and my friends razzed me pretty hard for nerding out on them, but I decided my life was gonna be school and baseball and that’s it. Something about Coach’s encouragement drove me on.

Maybe it was an unhealthy thing, my desire to please Dave Jackson. I found myself hanging on his every word, memorizing his demeanor, way of walking and talking. And later, alone in my bedroom, as I was stroking my cock, I’d talk to Coach J, tell him the things I’d like to do.

I felt like a piece of shit for a while, but by spring of my senior year I realized I was a gay dude, and I was OK with that. I was playing the best baseball of my life, best Taft High had seen in a while, and whatever happened I was sure of getting a scholarship to play somewhere.

When the notification call came from Stanford, I was blown away. Admission with full scholarship! Maybe I should have told my parents first, but immediately I drove over to Coach J’s place. I knew he’d want to hear the news first.

Coach was wearing his Stanford cap and a flannel shirt unbuttoned, revealing his still firm, tanned chest covered in blond and gray hairs. “What’s up Mike?” he asked.

“Coach. I got in. Stanford.”

I never knew the look of pure masculine pride before that moment. “I knew you could do it, Connelly!” he growled, wrapping me in a big bear hug that almost knocked the air out of me. “You son of a bitch, you did it!”

And just like that our mouths met, full on, man-on-man kiss. I guess in my fantasies I’d thought about this, but even in my jerkoff sessions the kiss wasn’t as awesome as this.

“Jesus, sorry, Big C,” he said, using his nickname for me. “Got carried away.” His happiness was starting to get replaced by a real nervous expression.

“Coach, I wanted to. I still do.“

He gave me a shy, cautious smile and pulled off his cap, put it on my head. “Why don’t you sit down in that chair, Big C, “lie back and let your Coach show you a proper reward for hard work.”

I did as he said and unbelieving, watched him pull down my shorts and briefs. He examined my hardon for a minute, touching it softly, and caressing it with soothing strokes. Then leaning down, Coach swallowed me and started giving me my first honest-to-god blowjob.

Joes1026 i pretend im asleep as he towels down @drakestories


I pretend I’m asleep as he towels down after his shower.  It was a long drive, long day, and he let me go first.  

Then we get here and the room only has one bed.  Poor guy, it’s been a long day.  

And I’m watching him dry off, his back to me, that amazing ass, those big balls of his swinging, and that big fucking dick I can’t see right now.

But I’ll see it later.  And feel it.  Same bed, he’ll end up spooning me, just like he did the last time, sometime after he gets in bed.  And I’m not wearing anything, so it’ll be even easier for him.  

Come to think of it, this “one bed” thing might not be a mistake, not matter what he said.


I got one fucking hot Dad.

Maturedadsandmen handsome daddy coach mike @drakestories


Handsome Daddy Coach, Mike McCoy, of the San Diego Chargers

Coach Daddy Hall of Fame Nomination

A4f101 the real thing i dont often do @drakestories


The Real Thing

(I don’t often do sequels, but since I’ve been asked a lot to come back to this theme, here’s a follow-up to “Dad’s New Dimensions”. Let me know what you think…)

“C’mon, fill me up,” I murmured, feeling his stubbled jaw grazing along mine, as those thick, python-like arms of his coiled around me. His big cock throbbed away at my ass, hot and sticky and slowly insistent, as he nuzzled along my jaw, up to that space just below my ear that made me shiver all over.

“Yeah, buddy?” Dad murmured back, flicking the tip of his tongue against that spot, making me growl. “Send you off with something to remember me by, huh?”

“Three fuckin’ months to remember you by,” I said. “You better believe I’ll be remembering you… us…. this… so c’mon, fucker - fill your boy. Load me up, you big stud.”

Dad pulled my face around to meet his as the blunt, leaking tip of his cock pressed harder against my hole, slipping me the thick wetness of his tongue as he pushed inside. We grunted into each other’s mouths as he slowly slipped all seven inches up inside of me, filling me up like nobody else could do. Like I didn’t let anybody else do, anymore. We belonged to each other now, and this was just for us. My ass for him, and his for me.

“Fuck yeah, buddy,” he grunted as his mouth pulled back from mine, a strand of spit still connecting our lips before he licked it up, thrusting his way up deep into me, building up his fuck rhythm like an old steam train powering up. “Send you off with your guts full of your old man. What is this, three loads now?”

“Four,” I moaned, craning my head to kiss him again hungrily, as his big paws roamed over the muscles of my chest and stomach, down into the sweaty tangle of my bush, along the throbbing stickiness of my own cock. “And still room for more. So give it to me, Dad. Breed your boy again.”

“Fuck yeah,” he growled, his eyes all lust-fiery now, and squeezed those big arms of his even tighter around me and set to fucking me the way he knew I loved best. The way only he could.

I had six loads in me, more or less, when the plane took off, and my cock was half-hard in my jeans the entire flight, thinking about the intense fuckfest of a weekend we’d had. I hated being away for these long stretches, but the money was excellent, and the absence really did make the heart grow fonder, for him and me both. Things were better than ever between us, both of us as hot for each other as we’d been since we first started messing around. Something about being together like we were now, coupled up, deeply kinked out and perfectly suited to a life together as father and son lovers, just made it even hotter.

I thought about the last time I’d been away, how he’d surprised me when I got home with the big swell of belly he’d grown, playing along with those intensely pervy things we grunted to each other in the throes of our incestuous sex, making our fantasies flesh. Even after he’d worked most of the stomach back off again, back to the thick, natural power of his beefy frame, the effects still lingered. The lust felt even more intense. And by the time the flight landed, I knew what I was going to do.

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Caesarwv matts girlfriend got him up early on @drakestories


Matt’s girlfriend got him up early on Saturday to have breakfast with her family. Matt showered, put on a pair of briefs, sweat pants, and a tee. All through the breakfast his girlfriend’s father kept staring at Matt. The older man always knew how to intimidate her boyfriends, even though he wasn’t a big man. After everyone finished eating, the father suggested that his wife and daughter go shopping, while Matt and him get acquainted. Matt felt nervous as they walked back to his and girlfriend’s apartment with the older man hand cupped on his shoulder. Once in the apartment, the older man gave Matt’s round jock ass a hard slap. Matt knew better then to resist, he learner that the first time they met. The older man pulled down the sweats and briefs, as Matt peeled off his tee. “You fuck my daughter in that bed, so I going to fuck you there,” he pushed Matt faced down on the bed and mounted him.

Daddysbottom as soon as the last class of the @drakestories


As soon as the last class of the day was over,, I hurried to the hotel. He should have arrived a couple of hours ago. The hotel’s front desk had a key card waiting for me and I made my way to the room.

I opened the door and walked right into the suite. And there he was, sitting on the sofa, completely naked, waiting for me. He saw me and smiled while he grabbed his already-hard dick. I stood there, admiring his nakedness, his still-muscular, mature body that I could not get enough of.

I wanted to run over to him and kiss him and ravage that sexy body. But instead, I dropped by bag and started to take off my clothes right in front of him. The more I peeled off my clothes, the more I could see the lust in his eyes. It didn’t take long before I stood naked in front of him. My huge, hard dick expressed my strong desire  for him. His eyes zeroed in to my organ. Even after we crossed the line more than a year ago, I knew that he could not get over how much bigger I was than him. But I also knew that he was quite happy to get that much pleasure from my dick.

He looked back up at my face. “Fuck, you are one sexy stud, son.” Those were the first words he said to me since I walked into the room. My dick jerked excitedly upon hearing those.

“I could say the same about you too, dad. I can’t get enough of your tight body.” I replied as I slowly walked over to him, letting his eyes linger on every square inch of my body. Inevitably, his eyes stayed on my stiff 9-incher that was right at his eye level.

“God, I can’t believe that whole thing can fit into my ass.” he said as he admired my stiff dick.

I snickered. “Why don’t we try to get it back in there, old man? I want to see if I can make you cum hands free again while I drill your tight hole.” I replied as I aimed my dick towards his mouth.

Dad wanted to say something, but I already had shoved my hard dick half-way down his throat.

Graybeards hed always been a big guy but we @drakestories


He’d always been a big guy, but we privately joked that Joe must have eaten his ex with the way his belly had grown after their breakup.

Joe hadn’t stopped hitting the gym, but he must have switched out all his cardio for muscle training, because his belly wasn’t the only thing that had gotten bigger. His tree-trunk thighs and solid arms strained his clothes almost as much as that big gut, and I had to admit it was pretty fucking hot.

The sight of him in the locker room, wrapped only in a tight towel, stopped me in my tracks. “Hey Darnell.” My thoughts raced, “Is his voice lower? Or did I just imagine that? He seems taller, but I think he’s just bigger. Did I say hi? Fuck, I did not.”

“Hey,” I replied after an awkward pause.

“You alright?” He asked, with sincere concern in his voice.

“Yeah, I just…” I trailed off as my eyes rest on his belly.

He glanced down at himself and turned a little red. Slapping a thick paw on his gut, he said, “Yeah, I’ve put on a few. Tyler was always into that health food shit, but now that he’s gone…”

“It suits you,” I blurted out. His wandering eyes jerked to settle on me with a baffled expression on his face. “I mean, I just thought, you know…” I stammered uncontrollably before I blurted again, “It’s kinda hot.”


“Yeah.” I admitted.

He grinned for a moment, but it faded and he looked off distantly. “Tyler was always convinced I wanted to fuck you.” He shifted from one foot the other, his hands grasping each other. “Frankly, he was right.”



“You know, I could use a shower,” I said with a slight smile.

“Right behind you, buddy.”

Marriedjock8 i went to this conference and @drakestories


I went to this conference and practically slept through the entire thing…until one of the hot sales guys at a booth asked me if I knew where the closest restroom was. I said, “No, but I know where the farthest one is.”

A4f101 private audience there was an art to it @drakestories


Private Audience

There was an art to it, a certain progression that we had to go through. Gchat would go bing an hour or so after lunch - “Drinks after work?” - and I’d smile and reach under my desk to massage the thick tube of my cock, feeling it grow in my suit pants. Then a little after six, his handsome head would pop around my office door, an expectant smile on his face as he watched me collect my jacket and keys. A round, maybe two at one of the FiDi bars, talking shop, and then we’d hop the train over to Brooklyn.

First order of business, once we got in the door, was another round of drinks while he hung up his suit jacket. I‘d loosen my tie, maybe spark a joint if I was feeling it, and then he’d relax on the couch while I got settled in the big, comfy leather armchair across from it. Inevitably, the conversation would die down, and he’d start to get that furtive look in his eye. Blushing, which was weirdly cute on the big, handsome fucker. He was 54, in terrific shape, all barrel-chested, trim-waisted, with the high, tight ass he’d had as a star QB at Penn. Still a full head of short, dark hair, thoroughly silvered at the temples and in the heavy five-o’clock shadow that had always seemed to set in not long after lunchtime. And that furtive blush, like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar, so unlike the hard-charging exec who commanded an army of business-bro acolytes that hung on his every word.

But here, in my apartment, he hung on my word, and my word alone.

“Are you hard yet?” I’d ask. He’d reach down to his full crotch, stroke the fine wool of his suit pants, and smile bashfully.

“Show me,” I’d say, quiet but subtly commanding. It was a tone of voice I’d perfected over the years we’d been doing this, and it never failed to bring a little shiver out of him. That, and compliance.

He’d slowly undo his belt and pants, and reveal the big bulge of his underwear, starting to strain at the fabric as it jutted up through his open fly. Starting to throb, and thicken, as he hung on my words.

“Touch yourself,” I’d say simply, and hit the joint or sip on my drink, feeling my own cock throbbing into life. Usually I’d be at least half-hard most of the day after his initial Gchat, letting him see the sizable mound in my crotch from time to time, a subtle reminder of where we’d be heading. Now, here, alone in my apartment, the door locked and the blinds closed, I’d let him see more of it. Spread my muscled thighs and briefly caress myself, highlight the growing bigness of my younger man’s bulge.

He’d grunt and swallow, and reach down to stroke himself, squeezing and pulling, teasing his big mature cock into a full-blown hardon inside his silk boxers. Getting that look on his face, that slow hunger mixed with eagerness.

“Get undressed,” I’d say when I was ready.

Invariably, he’d let out a little moan, continuing to tease his big bulge as he unknotted his tie and set it down beside him, then slowly unbuttoned his shirt, laying it over the back of the couch, his bright white undershirt showing off that pelt of thick, silvery-dark hair on his deep chest, the bigness of his shoulders, the solid muscles of his upper arms. Then he’d lift his big ass up and slide his pants down his long, hairy thighs, revealing those classic silk boxers he loved to wear, crammed full of thick, straining cock. At every step, before removing each garment, even his socks, he’d look to me hungrily, for permission, waiting for my slow nod.

I’d slowly sip on my drink, or smoke my joint, and watch. Nothing more.

“Get naked,” I’d say, watching him skin his shorts down, and there he’d be, big and handsome and powerful, his hard cock towering up, already beginning to leak. That complex mix of shame, lust and hope, of need in his eyes.

“Go ahead and stroke that cock, big guy,” I’d say quietly, and with another little moan, he’d set to work. nice and slow, because he knew I liked him to take his time with it, really work on that nut that had building inside him since the last time we’d done this. Not the nut he shot into his wife, or stroked out into the john - the deeper nut. The one reserved for me, for this, for us. The one he enjoyed the best.

There’s something about watching your own Dad get himself off for you. Yeah, of course, there’s the stimulation, the hotness of watching a big, handsome, built man lustily pleasure himself just for you. But more than that, there’s the power of being not just an observer, but a director. Telling your own father where, and when, and how he can pleasure himself.

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Menmountain thursday is dick pic day with my dad @drakestories


Thursday is dick-pic day with my Dad!

Maturedadsandmen theres nothing i like more @drakestories


There’s nothing I like more than a mature, stud daddy.  My boss, John Turner, definitely fit that bill.  Muscular and fit in his early 50s, with a receding hairline of salt and pepper hair that, if I was being honest, was more salt than pepper.  He was one of those guys that always had to wear either a tank top or a sleeveless shirt, because if he wore a shirt with sleeves, they’d rip.  Any gay guy is a “dick man,” but I’ll admit…the other thing I’m into on a guy is his chest and arms.  Turner’s meaty chest and arms looked like they needed me cuddled in them after a night of hot fucking.  It took everything I had when our work schedules matched up for my mouth not to water around him.

When I started working for the gym that he owned a couple years ago, the word was that he had just come out of a messy divorce.  Some of the busybodies who worked at the front desk whispered about how his wife had caught him cheating.  But I never heard any other details…never sought any further details out either.  I figured it was none of my business.  He seemed like a stand-up enough guy to me.  After two years of getting to know Turner a little bit better, lusting after him, and seeing him shirtless on numerous occasions…but never fully nude, I found myself for the first time alone with him in the gym after hours on a Saturday night.  We were both scheduled to close up and had mutually decided to stay after closing and get a quick workout in.  We basically each worked out on our own aside from spotting each other a couple times and making small talk during rest breaks between sets…nothing too deep.  Just talk about work, the new football season, and the baseball playoffs.

After about half an hour, I’d had enough.  It didn’t look like Turner was ready to stop, so I told him I was hitting the locker room and would see him later.  I had gotten out of my clothes and just finished wrapping a towel around my waist to head to the shower when Turner came in.  "Had enough too?“

“Yeah,” he halfway grunted.  "If I push it too much further, I’ll hurt myself.“  I stood there waiting for him to say more as an awkward silence ensued.  As he stripped off his shirt, he finally spoke again.  "You got anything goin’ on tonight, Bri?”

As I got a full view of his muscular chest with a sheen of sweat on it, I thought to myself that the only thing I had going on tonight was a major jackoff session the minute I got home.  Hell, I’d probably be able to bust out a couple loads.  "Nah.  Just gonna grab dinner and watch the tube.“

No reply.  In fact, he just stood there looking at me.  I did notice a bulge forming in his shorts.  However, I decided Turner was probably waiting for me to head to the shower so he could finish undressing.  My heart was beating pretty fast and when I said, "I’m gonna hit the showers.  Catch ya later, man,” my voice cracked so hard, I probably sounded like a 14 year old kid who just hit puberty, instead of my actual 40 years.

I had only been in the shower a couple minutes.  In fact, I had just finished washing the shampoo off my head and still had my head under the spray when I heard the curtain pull back and arms encircle my chest.

“Wha…?” was all I could get out before I felt a hard cock push against my right hip and lips press against my ear.

Then, in a low voice into my ear, “The way you were looking at me all night, I thought you might want some company in here.”

I boned up in an instand and Turner’s left hand went to grasp my hard on.  As my right hand felt for his own hard cock, I turned my head slightly and my lips found his.  After a minute of passionate kissing, he broke the kiss.

“Since you were just gonna watch TV and not do anything else, I thought you might wanna do me instead.”

I turned to face him, seeing a smirk on his face.  I brought my hands up to the pecs I’d been longing to rub ever since I’d met Turner.  "Oh, you got no idea, stud.“ was all I said before I leaned in for another kiss.

Turner broke our kiss and surprised me when he stepped out of the shower.  "I got something I gotta take care of.  Finish your shower.  Then, we can head back to my place for some quality time.”  Then, he walked away, leaving me dumbfounded.  I finished my shower and found the locker room deserted.  I went ahead and got dressed, leaving the locker room…wondering if he had totally blown me off and left already.  As I was walking toward the front of the gym, I saw him in his office fully dressed, sitting at his desk.  He looked up when he heard my footsteps.  "Had to do next week’s work schedule.“

"That was more important than what we were doing in the shower?!” I said, incredulously.  I must’ve totally misjudged this guy.  What an arrogant prick.

He handed me a copy of the schedule, smirking.  "You tell me.“  When I saw the schedule, I noticed I didn’t have any shifts for the next four days.

"Four days off?!  Am I being punished, or something.  I need the money.  What’s going on here, John?!”

“Relax, Brian.  You’re going to get paid for the hours you would’ve worked.  Before you get any more hot-headed, take a look at my schedule for the week.”  I noticed he had the same four days off that I did.  Without a word, I looked at him again.  My whole demeanor changed…and my cock sprang to life again.  "Thought we could use a little time to get to know each other better.  Don’t you agree?“  He said in a sexy tone as he got out of his chair and walked toward me, standing in the doorway of his office.

"Definitely,” was all I got out before he bridged the gap between us, put his hands around my waist and kissed me.

“Let’s get going.  I can’t wait to get you to my house.”  As we talked to the exit, he shifted his left hand from my waist to my ass.  Yeah.  We definitely got to know each other better over the next four days.

Realcandidmen one of my faves is backand you can @drakestories


One of my faves is back…and you can see more of this prime DILF herehere and here.

If this dude’s not getting a nice loving blowjob at the end of his day, every day, something’s not right.

Graybeards i didnt normally reply to messages @drakestories


I didn’t normally reply to messages from “discreet” guys without even a torso pic. However, his description, “Handsome, hung middle-aged exec in need of service,” told me everything I needed to know.

My heart was racing as I replied. I didn’t even know what he looked like yet, but my imagination was going wild. He didn’t want to send pictures. Fine. We chatted a bit—he wasn’t far from my office—until he abruptly asked, “I’m married is that ok?” 

I laughed out loud, glancing around the office to make sure I hadn’t attracted anyone’s attention, before typing back, “Yeah. When can I blow you?” He sent a smiley face in reply.

I watched the clock like a hawk, willing it turn to 1:00 faster. 

When the time came, I raced out of the office. The thumping in my chest had, if anything, intensified. My feet barely touched the ground with each step closer to this man’s hotel room.

“Almost there,” I messaged him as I stepped in the elevator. His reply, “Door’s open.” He’d flipped the door guard outward, keeping the door slightly ajar. I took a breath and stepped inside. 

There he was. He’d flipped his tie over his shoulder and he sat reclined in a chair by the window, with one hand on his crotch and the other on his chest. And on his face, he’d affixed a tiger mask. “Shy, huh?” I stated more than asked.

He nodded silently and grasped his crotch.

With a smile, I knelt between his thighs and said, “No worries, bud, your secret’s safe with me.”

Hugyerbud ive got a half hour lunch break @drakestories


I’ve got a half hour lunch break, sport…be ready when I get there…

Daddysbuttsniffer dad dont usually let you play @drakestories


Dad don’t usually let you play around down there. Must be the sea air and the beer got to him.

I’m more of a Caribbean white sand beach resort kind of guy. Give me margaritas out by the pool all day and I’m happy.

Dad grew up in New England though, and I could tell he was pining for a beach vacation up there. And when we got to Ptown, I have to admit it felt awesome to be able to walk around hand in hand, like a real couple. Sure, part of it was simply the number of gays there, but there was something else too… the sun, the salt air, just a certain free vibe.

I was surprised by how it relaxed Dad. I was normally the romantic one of us, and he sometimes acted like it was just sex for him. But hanging out there for the week, he got downright cuddly and affectionate, even when we were out.

I knew something had changed that first day. We’d gone to the beach and had drinks at T-dance and were feeling a nice buzz. I had a quick piss when we got back and found Dad naked face down on the bed, slowly hiking his magnificent butt up and down. I kicked off my shorts and climbed on the bed to join him.

I knew then this week would be different. Dad doesn’t usually let me fuck him.

As I gave that first tentative lick, he pushed his butt back along my mouth with a grinding motion. “That’s it, Jack. Eat daddy’s hole.”

Paternal instinct after five years im finally @drakestories


After five years, I’m finally out of school and tossed in the business world. I even got the dream job I’ve always wanted: working under my dad. He’s a big corporate guy and he decided to take me under his wing and teach me everything he knows. I’ve always looked up to my dad…I’ve always wanted to be just like him.

“How do you feel?” Dad asked me when returning to our hotel one evening. We were on a weekend-long business trip and had just wrapped up a long day of meetings and conferences.

“Feeling good,” I responded.


I froze in a state of confusion, not saying a word. He chuckled

Dad sat in the chair in front of me. “Businessmen are always horny fucks,” he said, “either they’re not getting enough from their wives or their work is preventing them from getting laid or just being surrounded by all those hot women in the office gets them going. So, the secret to scoring deals and trades and inside information…is getting the guy’s rocks off. Now I know you might be thinking…’but I’m straight, Dad!’ Shit son, we’re all straight, but this is business. A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do, especially when it comes to making money.

“So, Son,” Dad laid back and began rubbing his bulging crotch, “what do you wanna learn from me?”

My mind was still processing the words spit at me, but my knees were already down and my body was inching towards his crotch; my hand closing in on his packaged meat. I looked at him as I kneaded his huge bulge, and he sighed in relief. “Welcome to the business world, Son…now suck my cock!”

Hugyerbud mission accomplished i know i know @drakestories


Mission accomplished…

I know, I know, you take your chances on Craigslist. Never know who you’re going to meet or what kind of weirdos they’re going to be.

“Dan” was the kind of man who made all the risk worthwhile. Married suburban dude, so fucking good looking and I don’t even think he knows it. Bi guy who’s hungry to get fucked whenever he gets the chance. Took me a while to find that out, though.

Good thing I know his language. I’m openly gay, not married, but I know how to put these guys at ease. Assure them that I’m just another dude looking for no-strings, discreet action. I also know I gotta be patient. It’s like fishing, you cast your line out and wait. Back and forth emails that seem to go nowhere.

Another flake, I think, before “Dan” replies. More flirty with each one. He asks for a dick pic, and I comply. Send another for good measure. “Dan” is definitely getting interested, starts emailing during his work day. Drops the bomb that he’s looking to bottom for the right guy. Turns out a college buddy turned him onto it.

When we finally meet up for the first time it’s electric. Sneaking into the basement of “Dan’s” house, it was like some guest room, kid’s room, and scrapbooking room for the wife. I couldn’t tell, but it made it feel naughtier. Especially seeing how horny and impetuous this married guy was. Appreciatively he stroked my dick as we pulled down our pants and briefs, kicking them off. “Nice,” he said. “Looks even bigger in person.” He paused, a little wistful. “I’m gonna have to ask you to rubber up, buddy,” he said.

I nodded and sheathed. Even with the condom it was a quickie, I don’t think it was three minutes before both “Dan” and I came. The smile on his face when we untangled was worth the 20 minute drive.

He shook his head in disbelief when he saw how much I’d ejaculated in the condom tip. “Would have liked to have that inside me,” he said.

“Yeah, me too,” I replied and we kissed quickly as “Dan” stripped off the rubber. Holding the open end to his mouth, he up ended it, sucking down my fresh scuzz.

10eight i couldnt help it how could i resist @drakestories


I couldn’t help it. How could I resist him?

His tight, melon shaped ass bounced as he jogged back in from center field. He reached down to adjust his generous crotch before stepping in the dugout, his brawny forearms rippling as he gripped what I knew was a hefty bat sized cock. Taking off his cap, a bead of sweat started to roll down his temple and he lifted his arm to wipe it away on his sleeve, releasing the heady scent of his sweat. I watched closer as his powerful back heaved with every breath, exhausted after trying to prevent the Rangers from scoring yet another run.

No, I couldn’t resist, I had no restraint. My cock was aching for another release. I quickly opened my fly and freed my shaft from my shorts, smacking with a loud thud up against me. Reaching down I pulled my balls out and gave them a good, firm, tug. I loaded my hand with spit and grasped my cock, squeezing and jerking slowly, watching this stud talk with the other players. My fingers roamed over the sensitive tip of my dickhead as my free hand yanked my nuts, demanding their release. I needed nothing more than his crotch in my face and to inhale the masculine scent of the sweat that covered his massive balls after such a long game.

My jerking became more deliberate as my balls churned and my dick hardened. As this stud seemed to turn and look straight at me, and smile, I was caught off guard by the door swinging open. I scrambled and leaned forward to cover up, not knowing who it was that was bursting through.

“Hey wha…….Dude! What is this the third time today?!”

“You can’t fucking knock?! Goddammit you scared the shit out of me!” I yelled, and relaxed slightly, sitting back, my cock still in hand.

“What is it this time?” my brother asked. Laughing, and walking towards me, he looked at the tv screen.

“Ahh Mike Trout,” he said with emphasis, “he’s a damn fucking sexy one isn’t he?” he said, turning to me and giving me a teasing tap on the shoulder with the back of his hand. “I don’t blame you, he gets me hard every time, too.”

He looked back at the screen and had a mischievous look on his face. He pawed at his groin, and grinned, “Care if I join you?”

Things im grateful for lunch hour in the city @drakestories

Things I’m Grateful For: lunch hour in the city.

My parents raised me to have self respect and @drakestories

My parents raised me to have self-respect, and after I graduated from U of F and decided to come out, I thought I was learning was self-respect was about. My student loans were low (thanks to Mom and Dad) and I was living within my means even on my starter salary paycheck. And while I did hookups from time to time, I dipped my toes into dating more seriously, even had a boyfriend for a few months before we mutually decided it wasn’t working out. It all felt adult.

I wasn’t prepared for how quickly I’d be tossing my self-respect out the window when I met Dave Jenkins. I gather he’d made his money in biotech before retiring. I never learned his age, but he was nearing 50, though that body of his looked at least ten years younger. Like any middle-aged bachelor with enough means for a cushy early retirement in Florida, he acted younger than his age, too, like he was trying to relive his youth. Which meant spending his days out on his boat, partying at happy hour at the cheesy marina bar, and keeping a stable of hot young men around him.

I was one of them. You’d think there’d be jealousy but we were all pretty chill. At least the “regulars” - me, Mitchell, Jase, and Kev - we were the core group that Jenkins fucked around with. Sure, there were the “visitors” as we liked to call them, the hunky frat dudes Jenkins would bring down from the local university when he wanted some fresh meat. But it was all good. Jenkins got his balls off - turns out he’s a really good fuck - and the guys and I would be able to hang out on the boat on the weekends. It was a win-win situation.

When the opportunity at work came to get a new schedule, Sundays and Mondays off rather than Saturday and Sunday, I jumped on it. Having Dave all to myself (usually) those Mondays was incredible.

“You’re spoiling me Carson,” he said, as he extracted his spent cock out of my hole and plopped back into the chair. We were out on the boat deck in full view, soaking in the sun. “All you guys are.”

Loaferotica handsome big footed married dilf @drakestories


Handsome, big footed married DILF looking good in flip flops.

Daddysbuttsniffer why do you still feel so @drakestories


Why do you still feel so guilty? So you let your father-in-law turn you into his personal fucktoy! I mean, he’s rich, powerful, very persuasive, and a handsome motherfucker! And your bitch of a wife practically pushed you to your knees to suck his dick!

“Please, Mike, you don’t refuse an invitation from Daddy to go golfing, you just don’t! I mean, if you ever wanna make your way into the boardroom, you’ve gotta let Daddy know how much you love working under him! And don’t think I’m gonna live in this tiny mansion forever. I mean, look at Kelly’s husband. Brad started working for Daddy only two years ago, after they got married. And he’s now a VP and they just bought the lot next to Daddy’s on the golf course for their new home! I want what my sister has! So you better suck it up, and do whatever Daddy says! I want the lot on the other side, Mike!”

So, hey! Not your fault, right? All part of the game, you think, as you get on your knees, lower your head obediently and lock your hands behind your back. When you see his feet step before you, and you look up into his eyes, you see his pleased gaze of approval. Sweet! Country Club Drive and that new Porsche are only a few months of servitude away!

When do you gotta go dad sat across from me @drakestories

“When do you gotta go?”

Dad sat across from me, nude from the waist down. Just like I did across from him. It was like if we put on our jeans, it would mean it was over, this incredible sex-filled weekend. That I had to go back to Stanford for my Tuesday class.

“Flight’s at 5:30,” I replied. It was almost 4 already. I had a feeling we’d be pushing the check in cutoff.

“When you coming home next?” His voice was serious, emotional in a way I’m not used to hearing my cutup, laidback Dad speaking.

“Probably not before Thanksgiving. Mom’s gonna want me to spend a few days with her and Will.” I got along with my stepdad OK, but it was hard to hide my resentment that I wasn’t spending my entire time home with Dad.

“A month. I don’t know if i can wait that long. Maybe I can squeeze in a trip to Palo Alto before then.”

“It would be great to see you Dad. Always is.”

He smiled, a little wistful. Then he spread his thighs, showing off his fatherly genitals, the nutsac hanging low beneath his cock. “I probably don’t have an erection left in me at this moment, son, but I’d love to feel your mouth on me some more before we go.”

I didn’t have a hardon left in me either but hearing him say that did make my prick get firmer. I stood up and walked to him, and then knelt between his legs. Kissed his cock and said, “I love you Dad.” And I took his soft, comforting penis into my mouth.

A4f101 playing for stakes you had to admit @drakestories


Playing For Stakes

You had to admit, the kid was one hell of a poker player. I guess he got a lot of practice with his buddies, those long boring nights in the dorm out there in the middle of West Bumfuck, Texas. Just like me and Chad did, back in our day. It wasn’t all that much more exciting here tonight, but there was something in the sultry late-spring air. Heavy storms in the forecast. Not much to do in this small town. Two divorced men and a big college kid, drinking beers, playing a few hands, until Seb shot us both a sly grin and suggested we make things more interesting. When he suggested strip poker, Chad shot me a look and a grin, and all those memories of slow, hot nights at school came back in a rush. A rush I felt in my cock, and I’m sure Chad did too, because damn, they were some fun times. Then Chad pulled a bottle of Patron out of the cabinet, Seb’s eyes lit up, and I knew things were about to get very interesting indeed.

I figured with our combined experience, we’d have the kid beat, but no, he kept right up with us, until we were all down to jockstraps. That had been a bit of a surprise, seeing the bright orange McDavid the kid was sporting under his shorts, and his eyes had sure widened when he saw us jocked up too. He was even more like us than we’d thought, I guess. But he just grinned and rolled with it, and when Chad suggested we stop before things got too far and somebody wound up bareass, the look of disappointment on Seb’s face got me and Chad sharing another surprised, intrigued look. We were loose, buzzed, having a good time, and it wasn’t even that late. None of us wanted to stop playing games. This is where things had always gotten interesting. Me and Chad had been playing all kinds of games since we were kids, games that had gotten progressively more fun as we grew up.

“Alright then,” Seb said, kicking back, his long, solid baseball jock body smooth and muscled like ours had been. He looked perfectly confident and at ease, down to his jock with the big boys. “How about… loser gives the winner a lap dance?”

I almost choked on my drink. Chad just gaped at him. Seb kept smiling.

“What? Y’all chicken or something?” he said. Chad and I shot each other another look. Fuck no, we weren’t chicken. We’d played for stakes like that in our dorm room poker days. Played for much bigger stakes, in fact. But playing on this level with Seb was a whole other story. Still, he was dealing the cards again, and Chad was pouring shots for all three of us, so I figured fuck it, we’d see where this went. A night like this, anything could happen.

I folded early, stood up from the table to grab a cigarette and watch the intense face-off between them. Really began to notice how alike they looked, as I sipped on a fresh beer. And then finally, the decisive moment. Chad laid out his hand, a straight flush, and sat back in his chair with a triumphant expression, big arms up behind his head, relaxed and confident and ready for his reward. Seb’s face was impassive, just as relaxed, one hell of a poker face, as he showed his hand. A royal flush.

“Oh shit,” I laughed. “He got you, bro!”

Chad glowered at me, shot me the bird. My big brother could be a sore loser sometimes. Seb just grinned at him, pushed his chair back, big athletic thighs spread comfortably as he motioned at his lap with his head.

“Well come on, Dad,” he grinned easily, then looked at me. “How ‘bout some tunes, Unc?”

I stepped over to the iPod, scrolled through, found some old Stones. Chad was standing up, and fuck if he wasn’t filling out the big black pouch of his jock some more as he stepped around the table, an intent look on his eyes. You could always count on him to rise to a challenge, take it by the horns, and as “Emotional Rescue” started up, Seb looking up at him with a heavy-lidded, expectant smile, Chad rose to the challenge indeed.

Watching my big brother work his hips, the big muscles of his ass flexing, a light sheen of sweat beginning to glow on his skin, I was captivated. That big muscular body of his, you wouldn’t necessarily expect him to have much rhythm, much less finesse, but he could’ve made money doing this. Seb was captivated too, and I could see the orange mesh of his jock pouch growing, shifting, as he watched his dad dance for him. When Chad straddled the big kid, laid his forearms on his broad young shoulders and sank slowly down, I heard the kid’s husky grunt. Nearly let out one of my own, as I reached down to squeeze myself. I watched Chad nestle his big, full pouch against the kid’s, locking eyes with him. The vibe had changed. Chad had lost the game, but had taken control, and his big hunky kid was putty in his hands now.

“You chicken, kid?” Chad growled, as he began to work his hips.

“No sir,” Seb said huskily, face flushed, but I recognized that determined look in his eyes. He was the perfect mirror of his Dad even more now. And then he clapped his big young hands on Chad’s thick, muscular thighs, slid them up to the straps of Chad’s jock. “Now you gonna dance for me, Dad, or what?”

Chad gave me a can you believe this little fucker? look over his shoulder, then tipped me a wink and set to work. Seb continued to slide his hands up and down the thickness of his Dad’s big quads, then slowly up over the hard flex of his muscular ass, playing with the straps, eyes roving hungrily over the rolling, sweat-glowing muscles before him, before shooting his Dad a sexy grin.

“Fuck yeah, Dad,” he growled. “Work that big sexy ass, stud.”

“Yeah, you liking this, kid?” Chad growled back as he worked that thick body of his even more intently. They were both full-blown hard now, and there was a fog of lust in the air to go with the smoke, the music, the smells of sweat and tequila and beer. Things had gotten intense. There was that feeling of electricity, like when a storm’s about to break. Like anything could happen.

“Fuck yeah I am, big guy,” Seb said, then reached over for his shot glass, dumped the rest of the tequila down his throat, and grabbed hold of Chad’s grinding, flexing, bulging glutes and pulled him in tighter. Chad grunted, folded his big forearms round the kid’s neck, and ground on him harder, bulge to bulge. Their eyes locked, glassy with unmistakeable lust now. Then one of Seb’s hands slid up his Dad’s back, cupped the back of his neck, pulled him in, and then kissed him hungrily.

“Fuck!” I grunted, but they paid me no mind, as Chad growled and fed his big, hot kid his tongue, ground harder up against him, and the two began to feel each other up in earnest, lips smacking loudly as they grunted lustily and took their kiss even deeper. Chad and I had history like this, we’d fooled around together and with a few buds every now and then when we were Seb’s age, and since we’d both got divorced, we still made time to play when the mood was right. But this, this was a whole other level. Watching my brother and his son grind and sloppily kiss and grope was insanely hot. I hauled my cock out the side of my jock and began to stroke it, slick with precum, getting lost in the intense, taboo vibe with them. Watched Seb take his Dad’s big hand, bring it down between them, over his big young bulge.

“You feel that, Dad?” he said. “You got me so fuckin’ hard, stud. Hard for your sexy ass.”

“Yeah, Son?” Chad grinned, squeezing and rubbing his boy’s cockbulge. “What you gonna do with that?”

Seb leaned up and slid his tongue back into Chad’s mouth, kissed him hard and deep, returning his hands to Chad’s thick ass, squeezing and spreading it wide.

“Gonna fuck you with it, Dad,” he growled. “Claim my winnings. You game, big guy? I know you and Unc play too. Wanna play like that with your own kid?”

Jesus fuck, he really was a chip off the old block, that same sexy self-confidence Chad had always had, in spades. That both of us had, especially when it got down to it like this, man to man, close. I watched him push Chad back off his lap and up, standing up to him, chest to chest, taking hold of his Dad’s neck once again to kiss him deep, then easily, confidently turning Chad around to lean on the table. Sinking to his knees with a hungry grin, hands on those big thick cheeks, then leaning in close to bury his face between them. His happy, hungry growls were matched by Chad’s, my brother’s eyes rolling up a little as I knew his son had found his target, that sweaty, salty, furry tight knot of muscle deep down. Chad and I looked at each other, and with a couple steps, I was by his side and he was pulling me in to kiss, the taste of tequila and beer on his tongue as we fed on each other hungrily, our grunts echoed by Seb’s hungry, sloppy growls down deep in his dad’s powerful ass.

“Your boy’s one hell of a poker player, huh bro,” I chuckled as we came up for air, panting and sweating. All Chad could do was grunt and nod in agreement as he pushed that thick ass back on his boy’s face.

“Y’all ain’t seen nothin’ yet,” Seb said as he came up for air, face wet with spit and sweat, grabbing hold of me to kiss me like he’d kissed his Dad. Then he hauled his big young baseball jock dick out of that studly orange McDavid, lined it up to Chad’s sweat and spit-slicked crevice, and took his prize.

More stories like this at

Graybeards good morning kiddo i spun on my @drakestories


“Good morning, kiddo.”

I spun on my heel to face the deck, where he was reclined. Stripped down nothing, he’d made a bold move but I supposed fortune would favor it.

He sipped his coffee, with a massive hard-on pointing toward the ceiling.

“Good morning, sir,” I said, blushing at the sight of my best friend’s dad laid bare.

The grin on his face didn’t escape me as he matter-of-factly said, “Sorry about the big guy. I didn’t want to wake the Mrs. quite yet.”

I forced a laugh, but I didn’t know what to say. After an awkward pause, I stammered, “N-no problem, sir.”

He glared at me and asked, “Is that so? You don’t have a problem with another man waving his cock in your face?”

“No! I’m not gay.”  I protested.

The confident man rose from his chair and sauntered toward me. “I don’t remember saying you were.”

“I just meant… it’s like a locker room.”

Mr. Clark ignored my retort and said, “Now that you mention it though, I did see my son stuffing your mouth full of cock in the den last night.”

The man stood a solid half a foot above me, and his furry chest was just inches from my face. I looked up into his downcast eyes and tried to deny it, but no words escaped.

“That’s what I thought, he said. Laughing softly, Mr. Clark took a sip from his cup and put his other hand on my shoulder to push me to my knees. “My boy isn’t as thick as I am, so watch your teeth.”

It was a long day of driving in traffic as me and @drakestories

It was a long day of driving in traffic as me and my partner drove to the shore. So, yeah, maybe I was a little cranky by the time we checked into the B&B.

Chris seemed to be able to read my mood, he’s really good at that. “Not in the mood to go out?” he asked. It was already 11pm but the bars were likely in full swing.

I unpacked my bag, knowing that tomorrow I’d be happy for a week at the beach but at the moment it hardly seemed worth the hassle. “Nah,” I replied. “Don’t really feel like it, Chris. I’m sorry, man.” I plopped on the bed and grabbed the remote, turning on the TV and found some shitty Saturday night show while Chris unpacked his things.

Finally he stepped up, blocking my view of the screen. Pulling down his tank top, he revealed his hairy pec. “Would it make you feel any better to suck Daddy’s teat for a while?”

I sat up, perking up quickly. I laughed. “Yeah, it would actually. Come here, big guy.”

I hung out regularly at tyler harriss house and @drakestories

I hung out regularly at Tyler Harris’s house, and this Saturday was no exception. My best bud and lacrosse teammate was on the phone with his girlfriend and they were having a big argument. I’d seen them blow up before and I asked Tyler why he stuck with her if they bickered all the time. “She knows how to give good head,” was his only reply.

Anyway, I had a feeling this would be a while, so I left Tyler to have his privacy and walked downstairs to the living room. Mr. Harris was just coming in from running his Saturday errands, dressed casually in shorts, T-shirt and a baseball cap. I’ve always had a thing for Mr. H. He’s fit, handsome and has a real quiet laid-back masculinity. The fact we made out a month ago made it worse. Mr. Harris apologized and said he hadn’t meant for it to happen and asked me not to tell anyone. “We can’t do this again, Mike,” he had said, and that was that.

It had been pretty awkward after that, but Mr. H acted like everything was normal. After all, I was just his son’s best friend. I reasoned that it was just a fluke for him.

Until now. Mr. H greeted me and asked where Tyler was.

“He’s up in his room. Another argument with Julie,” I explained.

“Ha,” he chuckled. “It’ll be a while, then, huh?”

“Yessir,” I laughed. It was funny that I wasn’t the only one to notice this pattern.

“You able to entertain yourself?”

“Yessir,” I said.

“Well help yourself to whatever you need,” he said, and with that he took his shopping back down the hall.

The conversation was normal, but there was a vibe I was picking up on. The way Mr. H looked at me, like he was questioning me, maybe challenging me. Wondering if I was going to make a move again. I tried to shake off the feeling, after all he’d told me before nothing would happen again.

But that stare of his didn’t lie. I knew in my gut. Butterflies in my stomach, I walked down the hall to Tyler’s parents’ bedroom. I gave a quiet knock and stepped inside.

Mr. H had taken off his shirt and sat on the bed. He was waiting for me, his eyes on the door watching me step in. He leaned back, casually, inviting. Damn, his chest and torso were toned as hell for a guy that age. Mr Harris isn’t as hung as I am but it was a thrill to watch this older man, my best friend’s dad, bone up in his shorts.

“Shut the door,” he whispered.

I made sure the door knob didn’t click.

“Damnit, I tried keeping my hands off you,” he said softly.

“You don’t have to, sir.”

Menmountain dad getting me going @drakestories


Dad getting me going.

Holydilfbatman what a view i felt naughty as @drakestories


What a view

I felt naughty as hell sneaking around like this. No, I didn’t make up the business trip, that was real. But I padded it with an extra day. What the wife doesn’t know won’t hurt her, right? I didn’t tell her either about the frequent flyer miles I used to fly Jeremy out West, too.

It felt even naughtier sitting across from my son in the high-end restaurant. Gourmet cuisine is not my thing and it’s even less Jeremy’s thing. My boy’s pretty much a beer and pizza kind of guy, at least when he’s not watching his carbs. Still, we both appreciated the fact we were out on a real, honest to god date in a nice restaurant. Prix fixe, wine pairings the whole bullshit.

I was feeling tipsy from the wine when I started to feel more brazen. Underneath the table my dress shoe tapped Jeremy’s and nudged against his ankle. Playing footsie, he rubbed against my foot and smiled. “This is nice, Dad,” he said. He’s 25 now and if anything has grown into his looks. Youthful, masculine, perfect. I wished to hell he lived closer, but he’s got a good job and enjoying city life as an out gay dude. Even has a steady boyfriend. That’s what made weekends like this special.

“You know what today is?” I asked.

He shook his head. “No.” His eyes twinkled and I wanted so bad to take him back to the hotel room and fuck him right then and there.

“Five years to the day…” I prompted him.

“Fuck,” he whispered. “How could I forget? The first time we did it.”

“Parents Weekend,” I added. “I remember that first night. Us sitting on the couch, knowing something was going to happen. I thought your roommate would never go to bed.”

Jeremy laughed. “I’d wanted to do something for so much longer.” He paused and raised his wine glass. My son probably had more of a tolerance than me, but he was getting buzzed too. “Here’s to our anniversary.”

We clinked glasses and sipped.

“Damn, it’s hot to hear you say that. Anniversary,” I observed.

“Our anniversary,” Jeremy repeated for me. “You know you’ll always have a special place in my life, Dad? No matter what happens.”

Back in our room, we kissed passionately. I hated to break the mood but I had to piss something awful. I excused myself and when I walked out of the bathroom my only son was naked and crouched face forward on a hotel chair.

“I thought I’d enjoy the view,” he joked as he looked back forward and waited for me to crouch behind him.

“Happy anniversary, son,” I said as I leaned in and started eating my boy’s hole out.

A4f101 my little problem ok i admit it i @drakestories


My Little Problem

OK, I admit it - I got a problem.

It’s not a new thing. It’s been around for awhile. Probably since I was a teenager. Since I got into the thick of puberty, and shit started to get weird, like it does for all of us.

Now, I’m not gonna try and be one of those guys who puffs his chest out and beats on it about how straight he is. I love pussy. Always have. Since I was 15 and got my first taste of it, I was hooked.

Only… that was about the time I got hooked on this other thing, too.

Alright, alright. It’s jockstraps. Huffing on jocks, to be precise. Mine, other dudes’, doesn’t matter. Well… other dudes’ straps are better. Don’t ask me why, it’s just the way I’m wired, OK? Since the first time I slipped mine off in the locker room after a game, and caught a whiff of it, all freshly sweaty and tangy with that special musk I was just starting to get back then - that scent of a man - and my cock boned up like crazy. Made me so nuts, I hurried home, pulled it out of my bag, locked my bedroom door, and whacked out three loads in a row, huffing on my own jock stink.

There’s just something about a good strap. I love wearing ‘em, seeing ‘em on a dude who’s built to wear one well… and most of all, bunching a fresh-worn one up under my nose, over my mouth with one hand, while I wail on my epic hardon with the other. Never fails to bring off a huge nut.

Even now that I’m pushing 40, with a hot piece of ass for a wife, two kids, a decent job, nice house, new Tahoe, living the heterosexual American dream, every chance I can get, I’m huffing on a strap and beating on my dick like it owes me money. Spraying my cum all over the muscles of my stomach.

It never went away, much as I hoped and prayed it would. Just got stronger over the years. I was a three-sport athlete in high school, played ball at State in college, and I kept myself in prime condition afterwards. The wife says I don’t look a day over 30, and I always fuck her real good for the compliment. And hell, she’s almost as hot for the idea of me wearing a strap as I am. I figure I got to set a good example for my boys, keep them from becoming lazy fatasses like a lot of kids seem to turn into nowadays. What I’m saying is, staying in shape gave me even more opportunities for strap play over the years, and shit, I’m just as nuts for it now as I was 25 years ago when I first discovered this kink of mine.

Now, I get offers, and lots of opportunities, but I’ve always been faithful. Never strayed. But I’ve thought about it. Every man does. More often than not, though, I’m fantasizing about fucking around while I’m having one of my strap-stroke sessions. And since I like it best when it’s another fit dude’s strap - like the ones I sometimes swipe from the lockers at my gym, like I used to swipe my teammates’ back in the day - well, I guess you can guess what I’m thinking about when I’m huffing on some other dude’s sweat and ball stink.

I told you I don’t make a big deal about being straight. I got gay friends, had plenty of gay teammates, and I know I’m the type of dude a lot of gay dudes are into. I’m cool with all of that. If one of my boys turns out that way, so be it. But hell, the pictures in my mind when I’ve got that funky, sweaty cotton all bunched up under my nose, inhaling and tasting that scent… well, maybe I’m a little bit gay after all. Picturing in my horny mind the way the straps indent a muscled man ass. The way a good-sized cock and balls fills out the pouch, makes the mesh swell intriguingly. The way the waistband soaks up his sweat. The way his damp bush might curl out over the top of the band. The way two perfect, thick glutes get showcased by the elastic. The way those glutes look when they flex, shift, dimple, all framed by those two straps. The way a dude’s ass would look, all muscled up and presented perfectly in his jock, presented perfectly to me as he arches his back and tells me to go for it, to get my face up between his cheeks, up in that deep, sweaty, furry crevice… to get him nice and wet for a fucking. To fuck him while he wears his jock. To make him shoot his thick cum into the pouch. So he can let me suck all that salty, funky man cum right out of the mesh when we’re done.

Shit, I gotta cool down here, or I’m gonna bust too quick.

So… I have a problem. I know I’m not the only one - thanks, internet - but that doesn’t help me control it. And lately, it seems like it’s even worse. Because now, I have a regular supply of other dudes’ straps available to me.

Because my oldest boy Max is turning out to be a jock like me. And that means there’s another dude, right here in my house, wearing a strap. Leaving ‘em laying around to get washed. To get souvenired. Giving me even more opportunities to indulge in my favorite thing.

That’s what I was doing this afternoon. I had a flex day, so I used it to take care of shit around the house, mow the lawn, wash the car, fix the garage door opener, crap like that. All while wearing my current favorite jock, this soft cotton one with a lowline waistband that feels like a warm, soft hand cupping my cock and balls. Getting a good sweat into it. And once I got done, and I knew I still had time before the boys got home from school, well… I got the urge. Felt my big dick growing in anticipation, inside my sweaty jock. So I cruised past Max’s room, and right there in his laundry hamper was the jock he wore to practice yesterday. Fuck yeah - jackpot.

Of course, I always feel guilty about it, but you know what they say - a stiff dick has no conscience. And mine was stiff as hell, and it definitely had no qualms, as I stripped out of my shorts and T-shirt, down to that soft jock already straining with hard dick, and kicked back on the sofa down in the basement rec room with Max’s funky teen athlete’s jock pressed to my face. Let the images in my mind push the guilt aside, for now. Tried not to picture my big, handsome kid wearing this strap - tried to make it some anonymous young jock dude instead. And mostly succeeded.

Things were going very successfully, as I strummed my big, heavy, precum-leaking cock, images of smooth, muscular young jock asses hot on my brain as I inhaled the sweat and ball funk from Max’s used jock.

“Fuck me, dude,” the husky young voice of my fantasy jock stud said. Then in my imagination, he looked over his shoulder at me. And it was Max. My boy, horny and lusty and begging for my cock. Begging for me to fuck him in his tight, sweaty young strap.

“Oh fuck! I moaned, and the fantasy kid - my fantasy son - grinned and nodded and spurred me on with a deep flex of his sexy young ballplayer’s ass.

“Yeah… fuck me, Dad,” he moaned lustily, and that was enough to tip me over the edge and send my spurts of hot cum all over the sweaty crunch of my abs. I moaned as the hot jets rained down on my stomach, huffing even deeper on my kid’s jock, smelling his youthful, masculine tang as my cock throbbed in my hand.


My eyes shot open, and saw… oh fuck, Max standing there at the top of the basement stairs, bookbag over his shoulder, a look of total surprise on his face as he saw what I was doing. Saw his Dad, naked but for a jock, big sticky cock in his hand, another jock stuffed up against his nose and mouth, a spray of fresh cum on his stomach. A moment passed like that, and for some reason I couldn’t get it together enough to grab a pillow or my shirt or something to cover myself.

But maybe I didn’t need to. Because Max’s confused face gave way to a big grin, making him even more handsome. And then he closed the basement door behind him and came down the stairs. All I could do was stare, terrified at what he might say, as he dropped his bookbag and stood over me.

“Jeez, Dad,” he grinned. “You too, huh?”

I gave him a confused look, but he was already tugging his T-shirt up and off, revealing the sexy crunch and flex of his mostly smooth muscles. He was destined to be a big, strong guy, just like me, and already he had all kinds of tight, sexy muscles. Definition to kill for. Even better than I was at his age, and I was no slouch at 16. Even Coach told me I could have passed for a senior, or even a college kid, with the muscles I had back then. And Max was doing even better. Proving it to me as he hooked his thumbs in his basketball shorts and tugged them down his long, strong, lightly furred thighs. Quads for days. Crisp, light-brown hair growing in real nice on ‘em. And front and center, a fresh white jockstrap, showcasing a very nice young man’s bulge. A bulge that was growing, shifting, tenting as he kept on grinning down at me.

“Dad, is that… one of mine?” he said quietly. I flushed hard, and he just nodded. It was all that needed to be said, all that could be said.

“Shit,” he murmured, and usually I’d call him out for the language, but fuck - I was in no position to do that right now. “I thought I was the only one…”

I still had that same confused look on my face, even though my mind was already there, getting it.

“Sometimes you leave yours in your hamper too, Dad,” he said simply, and then reached down and trailed his fingertips along the hard muscle of my inner thigh. Tentative at first, then more self-assured, especially when I moaned and flexed it a little for him, instinctively.

Max had this look in his eyes. I knew that look. Saw it in the mirror of my bathroom, or the locker room at the gym, if things were quiet enough, as I watched myself huff a fresh-worn jock and felt myself up. Admired my own muscles. Sometimes slipped that stranger’s fresh-worn strap on myself and took it even deeper.

That look my big, hot kid had, that look that was identical to mine - a look of lust, of fire, of intensity. It got to me, broke down whatever barriers of decency, of normalcy I might have tried to put up, and they crumbled into dust when his fingertips reached the pouch of my own jock, tucked sweatily under my balls, and sank into the sweat-damp bunch of the fabric. I moaned, and saw my hand reaching for his swelling jock bulge, and when all he did was nod and smile, I was lost. We both were.

The feel of my big, good-looking jock kid’s strained pouch was intense. The heat, the hardness, the throb, the faint sweaty dampness of it as I caressed and explored, as he pressed his bulge even more into my big, cupping hand. When he squeezed the fabric of my jock in his hand, then brought it up to sniff deeply, with a husky moan, I almost lost my load right there and then. My cock had barely even gone down since he’d come through the basement door. Now, it felt harder than it had ever been. Even harder than those times in college when me and a good teammate bud of mine jocked up and… well, that’s a story for another time.

Fuck, this is my own damn kid, I thought, but then my cock twitched and began to stiffen up again, and he saw it, and he grinned, and he subtly licked his lips a little with a horny little grunt, and his own big young cock twitched in his jock pouch, and that was the end of all that.

I don’t know if I grabbed him and pulled him down to me, or if he was already coming in to meet me, but our lips crashed together with a hungry moan, our tongues already out and meeting hard between them, and then the warm, lightly sweaty weight of his muscular young jock body was on top of mine, sprawling and squirming as I clapped one hand on the big, tight muscle of his bare ass and the other on the back of his neck, pulling us deeper into the kiss.

The feeling of his moist, cock-strained pouch against my big, bare, leaking Dad cock was like heaven, just like the feel of his smooth, hard young muscles against my own. He growled into the kiss, all manly-like, and flexed his tight-end’s glute under my hand, and I hunched my cock up against his bulge in reply as the spit began to flow between us in earnest.

When he pulled back, grabbed his previously-worn jock that I’d been so hungrily huffing on when he came in, and brought it up to his handsome face to inhale deeply as he ground up against my big dick, I nearly lost it again.

“Fuck, kid,” I moaned, playing my hands over the forbidden fruit of his tight-muscled torso. “Seems like you and me got the same problem, huh?”

Max grinned, slow-ground against me again, and leaned back in to kiss me, the scent of his jock all over our lips and tongues. I was hard as an iron bar, and good to go again. And since I’d just cum, I could go a little longer this time…

“Doesn’t feel like a problem to me, Dad,” he murmured when we came up for air. “Feels more like… an opportunity, am I right?”

I couldn’t help but chuckle, and cuff the back of his had affectionately. Little hard-bodied, jock-sniffing smartass. He really was a chip off the old block.

“So show me how deep it goes with you, kid,” I grinned, and with a big smile and a lusty chuckle, he did. As it turned out, it went plenty deep with him, just like it did with me. Maybe this wasn’t going to be such a problem, after all.

More stories like this at

Realcandidmen beefy blondie @drakestories


Beefy Blondie

Marriedjock8 whats that hair for on your lower @drakestories


What’s that hair for on your lower back? To catch my cum, Sport.

Mike and Greg were Carter High School’s most active Baseball Dads. Both had actually played football in high school and college, but ever their sons Dylan and Kyle were sophomores on the varsity baseball team, the two men devoted their time to helping out - fundraising, attending games, chaperoning. Baseball was an underfunded team compared to football and Coach Martin was thrilled to see the parental involvement.

For Mike and Greg’s part, they felt a renewed sense of involvement with their sons’ lives and felt reinvigorated, recapturing a bit of that youthful feel they had playing ball back in the day. And truth be told, the road trips gave them an excuse to get away from their faltering marriages.

For a couple of months, it was just a normal friendship bond between the two Baseball Dads. But one morning, as the men roused after an overnight stay for an away game, Greg stood up from the double bed and stretched. He had morning wood that strained his boxers and plopped out through the slit.

Mike couldn’t help but notice and remark on the dick. “Damn, buddy, you’re huge!” Greg’s cock was thick, hard, and long, far bigger than anything Mike had seen or imagined outside of a porno movie. “I hope you’re not fucking your wife with that battering ram,” he joked.

Greg blushed and tried to cram his stiffie back inside his underwear. “Sorry, man. That’s the problem. I haven’t been fucking the wife. Not a long time.”

Mike felt bad for bring up a sore subject. He knew where Greg was coming from. “Sorry, man, I didn’t mean anything by that. Just meant that, wow, you got a big one, you know.”

Maybe it was the morning horns or maybe it was the casualness with which his friend talked about his dick. But Greg winked and slid down his boxers. “Mind if I set it free, then? These boxers are murder when you’re this big.” HIs prick now surged fully erect and at an angle from his hairy belly.

Mike was entranced. He hadn’t expected this - hell he’d not fooled around with a dude since college - and doing something with Greg had been the last thing on his mind. But that dick. That huge dick had him thinking….

He was hard himself now. His voice was soft when he said, “I think I’ll join you.” He peeled down his briefs and though his penis was smaller than his buddy’s it felt a huge relief to free it from its confines. Now his hairy body was bared to Greg. Horny, open to possibilities.

“You ever….?” Greg asked, not willing to finish the question.

Mike nodded. “Yah. Been a long time, though. A couple of buds in college. Fun times.” His body shook as Greg eyed him up. Hungry, wanting to fuck. Mike wasn’t sure if he was up for that. “You?”

“Sometimes,” Greg replied. “When Kelly doesn’t put out, sometimes…. I’ll go online. Found a couple of buddies who like to get fucked. No strings.”

“Cool,” Mike said. “Maybe I should try that. I get so horny sometimes.”

Greg nodded now. “A man has needs.”

Mike hesitated to say what he was about to say. “A dick like yours, you must have extra needs.”

“I’ll admit, the size helps getting guys to bend over.” Greg paused as if thinking of his next words, his next move. Keeping his eyes on Mike, he padded over to his bag, where he fished out a small squirt bottle. Uncapping it, he squeezed a dollop of clear fluid on his large prick. With his right hand, he caressed the lube onto his cock, where the heat melted it into a smooth sheen.

“Don’t worry, Mike,” he said casually as he walked back to the bed. “I know how to take it easy on a guy.”

Weller21 my dads iphone is backed up to my icloud @drakestories


My dads iPhone is backed up to my iCloud and I noticed he been taking dick pics 😂

Graybeards the young man pulled down his boxers @drakestories


The young man pulled down his boxers and revealed a sizable cock. It was impressive, but I was waiting for something even better.

I could see the growing bulge, even across the gap between our buildings. DILF banker, or whatever his actual name was, always seemed to lure these perfect young guys with impressive cocks. The young man was hot to trot and ready to get blown, and DILF was pretty great at that.

Without getting undressed, the older man sat up and took the standing boy’s cock between his lips. My own cock was losing it, it was all I could do to contain my orgasm right then, but DILF was always patient.

He worked the boy’s cock, bringing him close to cumming but never pushing him over the edge. The boy probably didn’t even notice, but the older man had slowly slid his hands up those long thighs to grasp the young man’s tight ass. As he sucked away at the boy’s cock, the older man spread his cheeks and started teasing a finger at his hole. 

The young guy was so lost in his blowjob that he didn’t even notice, not until DILF shoved a finger deep into him and pushed the boy forward into his mouth. It was all over, I knew. The boy squirmed a little but he wasn’t about to interrupt his blowjob. He let the finger stay up his ass, maybe he was even starting to like it.

And then DILF worked a second thick finger up there. Again, the boy protested, but he gave in. And a third. And a fourth. Until his hand was working that sweet, tight hole open. The boy didn’t even bother with the pretense of protestation; it felt good.

What happened next was the work of a master. DILF pulled his hand from the boy’s ass and his mouth from the boy’s cock. I never did learn what he said, but it always worked. The young man yelled and pleaded with him, but DILF stood up to his full 6′3″ height and pointed down at the couch. Reluctantly, the boy knelt and bent over the couch to bare his ass, but he didn’t know what was coming yet.

DILF undid his pants and boxers and let them drop to the floor, revealing his secret weapon: an eleven-inch monster of a cock that his virgin hole wasn’t remotely prepared for. But then his routine changed. 

He paused for a moment before he turned toward the window. His eyes locked on mine, spying me through my window across the alley. He winked and grinned. He knew I was watching, but that didn’t stop him. DILF lowered himself and mercilessly forced his mammoth cock into his prey. I shot my load—my first one, anyway—but I couldn’t even blink. I watched like a man possessed, and I hoped against hope that I’d get a turn bent over that couch.