Pics and stories about jocks, dads, suits,
white collar sex, roleplay, celebrity athletes. Scenarios depicted are
fiction and role-play. NSFW, for adults only.
white collar sex, roleplay, celebrity athletes. Scenarios depicted are
fiction and role-play. NSFW, for adults only.
Dad and I were on vacation and being in
a foreign country it was nice for me to have a drink or two with him
after dinner. So were both a little buzzed when we got back to our hotel
room. It was the warm air, maybe, or the Spanish-language tenor singing
on the radio, but tonight felt different, I don’t know, romantic. As
Dad stripped off his shirt and got ready for bed, he gave me a serious
look and leaned forward in a kiss.
“Fuck,” I muttered after we finally broke apart. Our first kiss, after all the fooling around we’d done, and it felt electric.
“Fuck is right,” Dad said, definitely buzzed from the wine. He peeled off my shirt while I reached for his zipper.
We collapsed on the bed, making out, stripping off the rest of our
clothes, until our nude bodies, father’s and son’s were writhing against
each other.
Dad reached over to the bedstand and picked up the lubricant. As he
slicked up, he stared down at me. “It’s our one year anniversary. Since
we crossed that line.” His breathing was heavy and I moaned as he pushed
his fat shaft down till it traced along my fur-dusted crack. “Any
regrets?”
“None,” I shot back, spreading my legs more and moaning as his cockhead
traced around my pucker. Dad and I liked to have foreplay like this, him
teasing me, maybe pushing just the tip against the elastic tautness of
my ring, before it was time for him to sheathe up. Dad was always
lecturing me about that. “I may be your daddy,” he’d say, “But that
doesn’t make me an exception.” Or: “You gotta insist, Scott… anyone
who’s man enough to fuck your hole is man enough to rubber up.”
His words were ingrained in my head as he ran his long finger over my
hole, silently claiming it as his and promising what was to come. With a
sly grin, Dad flipped the cap on the lube and drizzled the liquid on my
hole and all over he cock. “You’re still tight as a drum, son,” he said
lewdly.
My heartbeat raced as he leaned forward. Fiercely he kissed me, I mean
kissed me hard, as if he were going to suck the air of out me. His slick
prick throbbed spastically against my belly, ready to penetrate me, to
thrust inside me. The alcohol had softened my defenses and I was ready
too.
We made out and thrust our bodies against each other. I heaved my hips
up and spread my legs wide, feeling Dad’s truncheon of a cock ride my
ass cleft, poking my anus, working us both up.
I was hornier and more relaxed than normal, I suppose because the third
or fourth time that dick pressed against me, it just entered me. Like a
good four or five inches of Dad pushed inside me. Perfect fit.
“Oh God,” he moaned, a new expression on his face as he held his body
above mine and looked into my eyes. I could tell what he was thinking,
because it corresponded to what I was thinking. Surprise it felt so
good, and a desire to feel more of the feeling he was feeling. It was
the first time his bare dick had entered me like this.
“I know I’m always lecturing you, Scott, you know…” he started.
“Stay in me Dad. Don’t pull out yet,” I pleaded. My insides were on fire
with the stretched pleasure of being penetrated by the man I loved
most.
He nodded and huffed as he caught his breath. Then slowly, with
determination, he fed more cock into my hungry hole, savoring the
sensation of having his whole dick touching my inner membranes. Then,
biting his lip as if he wasn’t sure if he could hold off orgasm, he
pulled back slowly until his cock tip was just inside my sphincter. Then
pushed in again.
“Fuck!” I groaned softly as Dad repeated this. And again.
“Just a minute longer, son, OK? I’m pretty sure I can hold off that long. I just want to feel you a minute more.”
“Yeah, Dad,” I huffed, then our mouths met for a quick kiss. “OK… Dad… pull out.”
Dad nodded understandingly, respectfully, but I could see the battling
emotions on his face. He wanted to ask to go longer bare inside me but
was also ashamed for losing control.
I scrambled out from under him and hurriedly went over to my suitcase.
“Listen, Scott, I’m sorry,” Dad started. “I got carried away and I couldn't…”
He shut up when I turned around with my tripod and started setting it up with my smartphone.
“Scott?” he asked, wondering what I was doing.
I looked over with a big smile, having a feeling he was going to like my
idea. “I want to video us, Dad. I want to record the first time we do
it like that. The first time you cum inside me.”
Dad smiled. Pride, lechery, happiness, it was all in his gaze at that
moment. “You handsome son of a gun,” he growled, his hardon thwapping
against his abs as he lay on his side and watched me set up the camera.
(Source: mundodoshomens)
a foreign country it was nice for me to have a drink or two with him
after dinner. So were both a little buzzed when we got back to our hotel
room. It was the warm air, maybe, or the Spanish-language tenor singing
on the radio, but tonight felt different, I don’t know, romantic. As
Dad stripped off his shirt and got ready for bed, he gave me a serious
look and leaned forward in a kiss.
“Fuck,” I muttered after we finally broke apart. Our first kiss, after all the fooling around we’d done, and it felt electric.
“Fuck is right,” Dad said, definitely buzzed from the wine. He peeled off my shirt while I reached for his zipper.
We collapsed on the bed, making out, stripping off the rest of our
clothes, until our nude bodies, father’s and son’s were writhing against
each other.
Dad reached over to the bedstand and picked up the lubricant. As he
slicked up, he stared down at me. “It’s our one year anniversary. Since
we crossed that line.” His breathing was heavy and I moaned as he pushed
his fat shaft down till it traced along my fur-dusted crack. “Any
regrets?”
“None,” I shot back, spreading my legs more and moaning as his cockhead
traced around my pucker. Dad and I liked to have foreplay like this, him
teasing me, maybe pushing just the tip against the elastic tautness of
my ring, before it was time for him to sheathe up. Dad was always
lecturing me about that. “I may be your daddy,” he’d say, “But that
doesn’t make me an exception.” Or: “You gotta insist, Scott… anyone
who’s man enough to fuck your hole is man enough to rubber up.”
His words were ingrained in my head as he ran his long finger over my
hole, silently claiming it as his and promising what was to come. With a
sly grin, Dad flipped the cap on the lube and drizzled the liquid on my
hole and all over he cock. “You’re still tight as a drum, son,” he said
lewdly.
My heartbeat raced as he leaned forward. Fiercely he kissed me, I mean
kissed me hard, as if he were going to suck the air of out me. His slick
prick throbbed spastically against my belly, ready to penetrate me, to
thrust inside me. The alcohol had softened my defenses and I was ready
too.
We made out and thrust our bodies against each other. I heaved my hips
up and spread my legs wide, feeling Dad’s truncheon of a cock ride my
ass cleft, poking my anus, working us both up.
I was hornier and more relaxed than normal, I suppose because the third
or fourth time that dick pressed against me, it just entered me. Like a
good four or five inches of Dad pushed inside me. Perfect fit.
“Oh God,” he moaned, a new expression on his face as he held his body
above mine and looked into my eyes. I could tell what he was thinking,
because it corresponded to what I was thinking. Surprise it felt so
good, and a desire to feel more of the feeling he was feeling. It was
the first time his bare dick had entered me like this.
“I know I’m always lecturing you, Scott, you know…” he started.
“Stay in me Dad. Don’t pull out yet,” I pleaded. My insides were on fire
with the stretched pleasure of being penetrated by the man I loved
most.
He nodded and huffed as he caught his breath. Then slowly, with
determination, he fed more cock into my hungry hole, savoring the
sensation of having his whole dick touching my inner membranes. Then,
biting his lip as if he wasn’t sure if he could hold off orgasm, he
pulled back slowly until his cock tip was just inside my sphincter. Then
pushed in again.
“Fuck!” I groaned softly as Dad repeated this. And again.
“Just a minute longer, son, OK? I’m pretty sure I can hold off that long. I just want to feel you a minute more.”
“Yeah, Dad,” I huffed, then our mouths met for a quick kiss. “OK… Dad… pull out.”
Dad nodded understandingly, respectfully, but I could see the battling
emotions on his face. He wanted to ask to go longer bare inside me but
was also ashamed for losing control.
I scrambled out from under him and hurriedly went over to my suitcase.
“Listen, Scott, I’m sorry,” Dad started. “I got carried away and I couldn't…”
He shut up when I turned around with my tripod and started setting it up with my smartphone.
“Scott?” he asked, wondering what I was doing.
I looked over with a big smile, having a feeling he was going to like my
idea. “I want to video us, Dad. I want to record the first time we do
it like that. The first time you cum inside me.”
Dad smiled. Pride, lechery, happiness, it was all in his gaze at that
moment. “You handsome son of a gun,” he growled, his hardon thwapping
against his abs as he lay on his side and watched me set up the camera.
(Source: mundodoshomens)
My bro at @a4f101 has outdone himself with his latest story at Nifty:
The Intern
by a4f101
http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/beginnings/the-intern
It’s an incredible slow-burn of a story. Because every office has its substitute dad-son pair.
The Intern
by a4f101
http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/beginnings/the-intern
It’s an incredible slow-burn of a story. Because every office has its substitute dad-son pair.
Baby steps.
I’d been dating Darryl at the time, and as a joke we decided to go to
the gay bathhouse, as much for a laugh as anything. Darryl thought the
whole spectacle of guys walking around in towels, or without, and going
off to hookup was a hoot. Me, I was turned on, though I didn’t admit it
to my boyfriend. I guess I’d expected some place skeezy and maybe parts
of it were, but the sexual energy and the parade of hot guys made me
bone up hard.
It took a couple of months after me and Darryl broke up to get the nerve
to go back. I got my dick sucked by a hot muscle guy while another (his
boyfriend?) made out with me. I was hooked and while I tried not to go
more than once or twice a month, it became a regular thing for me.
But I’d been avoiding one part. The far sauna, which mostly the
territory of the 40-something men, who’d hang out there. I’d stepped in
once for a few minutes but for some reason felt intimidated. Like a half
dozen men were looking at my muscular 24 year old body as prey. Maybe I
was.
So I steered clear. Occasionally see another younger guy enter in there
and come out looking well-fucked , and for some reason that made it seem
even more off-limits. I wasn’t ready for that. I was used to being top
dog, to having my looks and body and youth mean I was calling the shots.
I don’t know what changed but one Saturday the place was busy and I had
my eye on an older guy, late 40s, and very hot, DILF-y type. The type
I’d been fantasizing more and more about. Wanting to get up the nerve to
approach a guy like and fuck him.
He was soaping up in the shower stall across from me, giving me the eye.
Smiling in an almost teasing way, as if he could read my interest and
was going to see how long it would take me to make a move. He may have
lost patience, because he turned off the nozzle and wrapped a towel
around his waist. He winked at me as he walked out of the shower.
My heart racing, I did the same, following behind him twelve paces. He was heading toward the far sauna. Entering.
I paused a second outside the door, getting up the nerve. I opened the
door, letting light stream in. The room was not full, but four hunky
older guys were in there, sitting nude, legs spread, genitals on
display. “Hey,” I said bravely and took off my towel. Already I was
throwing hard and my erection was bared for all these men.
The guys didn’t say anything but just watched as I sat down on one of
the benches. I watched them get harder, their dicks growing and
lengthening to admirable proportions. One of them, a barrel-chested dude
with thinning hair, picks up a bottle of lube and starts squirting a
heavy sheen on his cock, then passes it to the guy next to him.
Nervously, I stand up and stand in front of the barrel-chested guy, with
the throbbing hard cock and I face away from him feeling his hands on
my ass, caressing it appreciatively, and digging into my cleft, feeling
around for my hole, until his lube-y finger is touching my pucker,
penetrating me.
I gasp as the guys look on, horny, excited, eager. Their looks turn me
on, too, and I know I’m ready. I place my hands on my thighs and start
crouching down, sitting on top dude’s lap. He helps line up his prick
with my hole and I take my time but soon enough the guy is entering me,
fucking me. While three other men watch.
Like I say, baby steps.
(Source: nakedmeningroups)
I’d been dating Darryl at the time, and as a joke we decided to go to
the gay bathhouse, as much for a laugh as anything. Darryl thought the
whole spectacle of guys walking around in towels, or without, and going
off to hookup was a hoot. Me, I was turned on, though I didn’t admit it
to my boyfriend. I guess I’d expected some place skeezy and maybe parts
of it were, but the sexual energy and the parade of hot guys made me
bone up hard.
It took a couple of months after me and Darryl broke up to get the nerve
to go back. I got my dick sucked by a hot muscle guy while another (his
boyfriend?) made out with me. I was hooked and while I tried not to go
more than once or twice a month, it became a regular thing for me.
But I’d been avoiding one part. The far sauna, which mostly the
territory of the 40-something men, who’d hang out there. I’d stepped in
once for a few minutes but for some reason felt intimidated. Like a half
dozen men were looking at my muscular 24 year old body as prey. Maybe I
was.
So I steered clear. Occasionally see another younger guy enter in there
and come out looking well-fucked , and for some reason that made it seem
even more off-limits. I wasn’t ready for that. I was used to being top
dog, to having my looks and body and youth mean I was calling the shots.
I don’t know what changed but one Saturday the place was busy and I had
my eye on an older guy, late 40s, and very hot, DILF-y type. The type
I’d been fantasizing more and more about. Wanting to get up the nerve to
approach a guy like and fuck him.
He was soaping up in the shower stall across from me, giving me the eye.
Smiling in an almost teasing way, as if he could read my interest and
was going to see how long it would take me to make a move. He may have
lost patience, because he turned off the nozzle and wrapped a towel
around his waist. He winked at me as he walked out of the shower.
My heart racing, I did the same, following behind him twelve paces. He was heading toward the far sauna. Entering.
I paused a second outside the door, getting up the nerve. I opened the
door, letting light stream in. The room was not full, but four hunky
older guys were in there, sitting nude, legs spread, genitals on
display. “Hey,” I said bravely and took off my towel. Already I was
throwing hard and my erection was bared for all these men.
The guys didn’t say anything but just watched as I sat down on one of
the benches. I watched them get harder, their dicks growing and
lengthening to admirable proportions. One of them, a barrel-chested dude
with thinning hair, picks up a bottle of lube and starts squirting a
heavy sheen on his cock, then passes it to the guy next to him.
Nervously, I stand up and stand in front of the barrel-chested guy, with
the throbbing hard cock and I face away from him feeling his hands on
my ass, caressing it appreciatively, and digging into my cleft, feeling
around for my hole, until his lube-y finger is touching my pucker,
penetrating me.
I gasp as the guys look on, horny, excited, eager. Their looks turn me
on, too, and I know I’m ready. I place my hands on my thighs and start
crouching down, sitting on top dude’s lap. He helps line up his prick
with my hole and I take my time but soon enough the guy is entering me,
fucking me. While three other men watch.
Like I say, baby steps.
(Source: nakedmeningroups)
There are so many reasons I go for married guys, but top of them is
being able to be witness as they rediscover their virility. After years
of domestic life and putting their sexual needs second, they relearn the
joy of just pure, primal fucking.
Like now, how my fuckbud John is giving me a goofy look as we’re fishing at his lake house.
“What?” I ask.
“I was just thinking, you know, remembering how good you were this morning.”
“Giving you head?”
“Yeah,” his shy grin on its way toward turning into a leer. “Giving me
head. You going down on my morning bone. I can’t remember the last time I
came that hard.”
“You certainly fed me my breakfast,” I teased.
John set down his rod and stood up. “I know it was just a couple hours
ago….” He pulled down his shorts and looked down as his prick filled out
to its full fat girth and rose up from his crotch. When he was almost
erect he looked back over at me. “… but why don’t you come over and suck
my big fucking dick.”
(Source: myperfectdaddies)
being able to be witness as they rediscover their virility. After years
of domestic life and putting their sexual needs second, they relearn the
joy of just pure, primal fucking.
Like now, how my fuckbud John is giving me a goofy look as we’re fishing at his lake house.
“What?” I ask.
“I was just thinking, you know, remembering how good you were this morning.”
“Giving you head?”
“Yeah,” his shy grin on its way toward turning into a leer. “Giving me
head. You going down on my morning bone. I can’t remember the last time I
came that hard.”
“You certainly fed me my breakfast,” I teased.
John set down his rod and stood up. “I know it was just a couple hours
ago….” He pulled down his shorts and looked down as his prick filled out
to its full fat girth and rose up from his crotch. When he was almost
erect he looked back over at me. “… but why don’t you come over and suck
my big fucking dick.”
(Source: myperfectdaddies)
a4f101:
It’s been a minute since I gave you guys a fresh story, so here’s a nice long, deep one for ya ;)
Best Customer
“Alright, last one for the day,” Chris said, swinging up into the
driver’s seat of the Wrangler. “This one, he’s my best client. Very
important. He won’t give you any trouble at all, and if you do a good
job, he’ll take real good care of you.”
Chris was getting ready to head off to college in the fall, and I was
kind of honored that he’d asked me to keep his mowing business going
while he was away. He was making good money, and he sure put a lot of
time and care into it. He’d started out a few years ago with our old
push mower and a couple of neighbors, and now he had a client list, two
Toro mowers, and a little trailer from Harbor Freight to tow all his
yardcare shit around behind his Jeep. He was even teaching me how to use
QuickBooks to keep track of everything. It was no surprise he was going
to study Finance at State. He’d really started to show the man he was
becoming, this past year - a lot like Dad, responsible and solid.
Showing me the way to become one too.
Ask me a couple years ago, and I might’ve had different ideas about
it, but now, I was big on the idea of becoming a man like him. I guess
he wasn’t the only one maturing, growing up. There was a little over a
year between us, and I was starting to hit that later growth spurt he
had at 16 - getting bigger and stronger like him, my muscles more
defined, the hair on my legs and arms thicker and fuller. Chris had
always been a good-looking dude, and this past year or so - alright,
I’ll be honest, longer than that - I’d really started to notice it, and
started comparing myself to him more seriously. Already he was about as
tall as Dad, and his face was getting kind of sharper and more defined,
which made him look like Dad even more. His voice was deeper too, and
sometimes it was hard to tell the two of them apart on the phone. He was
just more mature all around, seemed like - we didn’t fight and argue
much anymore, and it kind of felt like we were more like bros now than just brothers, if that makes sense.
Anyway, lately, I’d kept catching him giving me these looks - not
weird, exactly, kind of like he was sizing me up, thinking about
something. I’d been pretty surprised when suggested we both take our
shirts off at the second house on his route.
“Trust me, the housewives dig this shit,” he’d said with a confident
grin that was sexy as hell. The way his pecs and abs shifted as he
tugged his old football practice shirt up and off, showing his smooth,
tanned skin, shit - I was digging it too. Made me feel a little skinny
and inadequate, but he just gave me this up-down look and an approving
nod when I shed my shirt too.
We were both wearing practice shorts from school, and I guess we both
had on tighty-whiteys underneath, and I had to laugh a little at how it
was almost like a uniform or something. Laugh, but also try not to
stare, because the longer we worked, the more Chris’ shorts slipped down
his hips, showing more of his round, firm ass shifting inside of his
sweaty briefs as he pushed the mower along, peeking over the top of his
shorts.
I knew what I was gonna be jacking off to tonight, that was for damn sure.
So I tried not to pop wood thinking about that - about jacking off in
the shower, or in bed, or both, picturing my hot big bro’s muscled ass
bulging and shifting like it was. The little patch of golden hairs right
there in the small of his back, at the base of his spine. The way the
mostly sooth skin of his abs and pecs gleamed with fresh sweat in the
warm spring afternoon. And I tried not to wonder if the housewives were
checking me out the way he said they did to him. If my muscles looked as
impressive as his did. If he was looking at me and my body the same way
I was doing to him.
“Yo, earth to Gav,” I heard him say, snapping his fingers, and I guess I’d kinda zoned out there for a minute. “You listening?”
“Yeah, he’s your best client,” I said. “You said it’s an easy job, yeah? How hard could it be to do it right?”
“Not hard,” he said, with this funny little half-smile on his
face. “Just… different. It’s more in the cleanup. But it’s very worth
it. You’ll see.”
He didn’t say anything more than that as we drove over to Mr. Blake’s
house, the warm air drying the sweat on our bare chests, the muscles in
Chris’ legs shifting and flexing as he worked the clutch and the gas. I
wondered just how well this Mr. Blake tipped, and what exactly it was
about the cleanup that made him so generous. Thought about me and Chris
stripping our shirts off to mow. Started to get a kind of an idea deep
in my brain, one I couldn’t quite get a hold of. A weird kind of
tenseness deep in my gut to go with it.
Mr. Blake’s house was nice, a restored little bungalow with a
well-tended garden, a BMW coupe parked in front of the garage. Chris was
right, it was an easy yard, mostly those garden beds, a pool and a
patio. Took us all of 20 minutes of fast work to get it mowed and edged,
and a few more to sweep and get rid of the grass cuttings. Hardly any
cleanup at all, really. Nothing worth a generous tip, for sure, and I
felt that tightness in my stomach swell a little more as I started to
wonder more about that.
It was quick work, but a warm, muggy kind of afternoon, and we were
both coated in a fresh layer of sweat as we loaded the equipment back
onto the trailer. Chris dusted his hands off and looked at me, as I took
my discarded T-shirt off the back seat of the Jeep to wipe the sweat
off me.
“Hey, leave it,” he said, answering my confused frown with a grin. “You trust me, right Gav?”
I nodded, still not quite getting it.
“Well, trust me on this. It’s better. You’ll see.”
He gave my bare shoulder a friendly squeeze that set my skin tingling
a little, then knocked on Mr. Blake’s patio door. I felt my stomach
shift with that weird kind of nervous feeling again, but I did trust my
brother, and I let him take the lead as the door swung open.
Keep reading
I was doing my best to resist. I’d come
home a little early on Friday afternoon, hoping to enjoy the summer
weather out on the patio. Kyle was home from college, and starting an
internship at my buddy Reggie’s marketing firm next week. I had assumed
my son would be out with his friends, so I did a double take when I
walked by his bedroom and saw his very hunky, very muscular body face
down on the duvet, the chunky power ass framed by the black straps of
his jock.
“Hey Dad,” he said, somewhat dreamily. I could tell he’d been thinking
about sex all day and had entered a lust-driven zone. His ass clenched
as he ground his hips into the bed, then he stuck his bubble butt up
high in the air. Fuck!
“I thought you might want to have a little fun, you know, relieve some stress.”
“Kyle…” I stammered, “I don’t think we oughta…”
He pushed his body up off the bed and faced the wall, letting me have a
good, full view of his magnificent backside. “C'mon, Dad, I even put on
your favorite strap. The one you gave me for my birthday last year. You
always said I looked hot in it.”
I had told myself this wouldn’t happen again. That I had to start
setting some boundaries between me and my boy. “I’ve said things that
weren’t appropriate…. son” The last word, while normal, also felt wicked
in this context, as Kyle spread his legs, parting that perfect crack
ever so slightly, teasing me with what was deep in there.
Undeterred, Kyle put his thumbs in the black elastic waistband and
started pushing down. “Oh, well, maybe you prefer me out of it, then.”
I kicked off my loafers and started undoing my belt.
(Source: beefy-buds)
home a little early on Friday afternoon, hoping to enjoy the summer
weather out on the patio. Kyle was home from college, and starting an
internship at my buddy Reggie’s marketing firm next week. I had assumed
my son would be out with his friends, so I did a double take when I
walked by his bedroom and saw his very hunky, very muscular body face
down on the duvet, the chunky power ass framed by the black straps of
his jock.
“Hey Dad,” he said, somewhat dreamily. I could tell he’d been thinking
about sex all day and had entered a lust-driven zone. His ass clenched
as he ground his hips into the bed, then he stuck his bubble butt up
high in the air. Fuck!
“I thought you might want to have a little fun, you know, relieve some stress.”
“Kyle…” I stammered, “I don’t think we oughta…”
He pushed his body up off the bed and faced the wall, letting me have a
good, full view of his magnificent backside. “C'mon, Dad, I even put on
your favorite strap. The one you gave me for my birthday last year. You
always said I looked hot in it.”
I had told myself this wouldn’t happen again. That I had to start
setting some boundaries between me and my boy. “I’ve said things that
weren’t appropriate…. son” The last word, while normal, also felt wicked
in this context, as Kyle spread his legs, parting that perfect crack
ever so slightly, teasing me with what was deep in there.
Undeterred, Kyle put his thumbs in the black elastic waistband and
started pushing down. “Oh, well, maybe you prefer me out of it, then.”
I kicked off my loafers and started undoing my belt.
(Source: beefy-buds)
maturedadsandmen:
As I stood on the cabin’s deck, drinking my morning coffee and(Source: fuckyeahstevekelso)
looking through the sliding glass door at him, kneeling on the bed,
talking on the phone with his wife, I couldn’t help but admire the man
my son had grown into. He was in his late 30s, kept himself in shape
with a great body, a job he loved at a production house in The City, a
loving wife, and two great kids. Greg really did seem to have it
all…including a mouth-wateringly long dick.
But in addition to every other thing Greg had going for him, there
was one other thing he had: a father who was completely and utterly
head-over-heels in lust with him. Yeah. I was hot for my own son. All
of that was gonna have to be on the backburner for now, though.
Because his wife and my grandchildren were heading up here later today
to join us for the next three days. It wouldn’t be a good look for me
to be mooning over Greg right in front of my daughter-in-law.
As I came out of my own thoughts, I saw Greg put down the phone, grab
his cup of coffee and walk out to join me. He had no qualms at all
about joining me naked on the neck, his morning wood flopping from side
to side as he walked.
“So, Son… When did Christy say she and the kids expect to arrive?”
“Well… It turns out they’re NOT arriving.”
“I don’t understand.”
“It turns out that Lizzie has come down with the flu, so Christy’s
gonna stay home and take care of her. And Connor’s best friend is
having some sort of sleepover that he’d rather go to instead of being
here with us anyway. Apparently, he’s been moping around for the past
few days at the idea of having to come up here. Christy said he was
only too happy when his sister got sick.”
I laughed… “Typical fourteen year old boy!” I’d never voiced this
to Greg - and never will - but for the past couple years, I’ve been
noticing Connor. There’s something about him…about the way I’ll catch
him looking at his father…even at me sometimes. And this best friend
whose sleepover he’s going to. He and this boy, Mark, seem to be a lot
closer than boys usually are at that age. I’d come to the conclusion
that Connor might be gay or, at the very least, doing some teenage
experimentation. I would never tell Greg about any of this…especially
how Connor’s been ogling him. I’m a firm believer that sex as
experimentation between two minors is one thing, but no one under the
age of consent should be having sex with an adult. If I was right - and
something eventually did happen between Greg and my grandson - it
should happen organically…and not until Connor was old enough to know
what he really wanted.
“I guess it’s just you and me for the rest of the week, Dad.” Greg sighed and looked out over the deck to the woods behind.
“Sounds good to me,” I said, as I slipped my hand around his waist
and patted his far hip. Then, I brought my hand back and playfully
smacked his ass.
“Owww, fucker!” he exclaimed as he returned my ass smack with a
playful punch on my arm with his fist. After we recovered from
chuckling, he continued, “So I guess we laundered the bed sheets and
moved your stuff into the guest room all for nothing…”
“It looks that way,” I said, a grin forming on my face and my cock starting to come to life in my pajama bottoms.
“We’ll move your stuff back into the master bedroom later. As for
the bed sheets, why don’t we get started dirtying them up again? By the
time we’re done, I want those sheets to reek of your scent and the
smell of sex!”
As I reached out to pull Greg to me, I said softly and seductively, “I can definitely manage that, Baby Boy.”
Greg growled sensually in response to my last statement as we leaned in and met in a passionate, open-mouthed kiss.
While I was disappointed that I wasn’t going to see my grandkids,
there was nothing better than getting in some bonding time with my son
up at the family cabin.
“No, Dad, over there. More to the right.”
Jason Martin wasn’t my son. The whole Dad schtick was his way of
taunting me. I just turned 43 and while I still had a muscular and
conditioned body, lifeguarding was generally a job for younger men. Men
like Jason. 20 years old but with the handsome, adult looks and full bod
that meant he never got carded when we went out for drinks post shift.
Though mostly, we’d just go back to my summer rental house and whip up a
batch or two of frozen margaritas in the blender.
I glared over at Jason, sitting in a chair in the shallow high-tide
water, directing me on where to set up the stand. God, he looked like a
young god sitting there, tanned and perfectly toned, legs spread,
reminding me of the long hard dick that had been buried inside me
repeatedly last night. “One of these days I’m gonna stop putting up with
your lip,” I shot back, hovering the line between annoyed and amused by
this kid’s bossiness.
“Yeah, right,” he laughed. “After you pull the boat over here.”
Jason was lazy, all right, but maybe I had too much to prove. Prove that
I still had it at 43, prove that I could work circles around this 20
year old. Besides, I knew that deep down, beneath this cocky veneer,
Jason was a good kid.
“You’re lucky you’re a good fuck, Martin,” I said, walking off to fetch the rescue boat.
(Source: zazauniverse)
Jason Martin wasn’t my son. The whole Dad schtick was his way of
taunting me. I just turned 43 and while I still had a muscular and
conditioned body, lifeguarding was generally a job for younger men. Men
like Jason. 20 years old but with the handsome, adult looks and full bod
that meant he never got carded when we went out for drinks post shift.
Though mostly, we’d just go back to my summer rental house and whip up a
batch or two of frozen margaritas in the blender.
I glared over at Jason, sitting in a chair in the shallow high-tide
water, directing me on where to set up the stand. God, he looked like a
young god sitting there, tanned and perfectly toned, legs spread,
reminding me of the long hard dick that had been buried inside me
repeatedly last night. “One of these days I’m gonna stop putting up with
your lip,” I shot back, hovering the line between annoyed and amused by
this kid’s bossiness.
“Yeah, right,” he laughed. “After you pull the boat over here.”
Jason was lazy, all right, but maybe I had too much to prove. Prove that
I still had it at 43, prove that I could work circles around this 20
year old. Besides, I knew that deep down, beneath this cocky veneer,
Jason was a good kid.
“You’re lucky you’re a good fuck, Martin,” I said, walking off to fetch the rescue boat.
(Source: zazauniverse)
daddysbottom:
Jack grabs a handful of hair as he pushed his cock all the way down(Source: daddylover52)
the boy’s throat. With a loud grunt, his cock erupts, sending hot
bullets of cum right down the moist gullet.
The boy struggles. His hands are trying to push Jack off as he chokes
and gags with each shot of Jack’s hot semen. Jack doesn’t care. Through
the haze of his climax, Jack knows that he is trying to re-establish
his dominance over the boy. He is the figure of authority, and he needs
to get that back after surrendering his cherry hole just a few minutes
ago. The image of him on his back, legs spread wide as the boy fucked
him mercilessly keeps replaying in his mind through his orgasm. The idea
of him, Jack Warner, a successful businessman, a respected father of 3,
would one day be surrendering his virgin ass to his own son, has never
even remotely entered his mind…. but it happened.
As his orgasm subsides, Jack realizes that he can feel some of his
son’s cum seeping out of his recently-fucked hole. His son has stopped
struggling, and is now busily lapping up the last of Jack cum dribbling
out of Jack’s deflating cock. As guilt and shame envelopes him, he hears
the sound of the garage door opening as his wife comes back from work.
Father and Son
by onlyshecanreadthis
https://www.literotica.com/s/father-and-son-8
Heavy on the buildup, light on the sex, but some great touches in this one.
by onlyshecanreadthis
https://www.literotica.com/s/father-and-son-8
Heavy on the buildup, light on the sex, but some great touches in this one.
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