It’s Labor Day, the wedding’s a month away, and my fiancee Emily decided to spend the long weekend doing some intensive planning with her mother. I was dreading it in a major way. Thankfully, her father, Mr. Morgan, called me out of the blue a week ago.
“Brian,” he greeted, “It’s Ed.” My future father in law insists I call him by his first name. He’s an easy guy to get along with, and I’m starting to get used to being on a first name basis with him. “Got anything going on this next weekend? I’m heading up to the mountain cabin Thursday night and wanted to see if you wanted to come along. We can get in some golf if the weather’s good.”
Edward’s a little obsessed with golf, but that’s OK by me. I’ve taken up playing pretty regularly and always enjoyed the opportunity to play, particularly if Edward was picking up the tab.
“I’d love to Ed, but Emily already has a list of a hundred things I gotta do before the wedding.”
He chuckled. “Don’t worry about that, I’ll have Nancy talk to her, and calm her down. We figured you could use a break from all the insanity.”
“Sounds awesome, sir,” I said.
“You work next Friday?”
“I’m taking it off.”
“Fine. I’ll drive. I can come by and pick you up at your office around 5 Thursday? We can load up your bags beforehand. Hopefully we can beat the traffic”
“Make it 4,” I said, with a light-hearted tone.
So come Thursday after work, I’m standing on the curb of the office park dressed in my business casual clothes and a gym bag slung over my shoulder. At last the familiar Morgan Lexus pulls up and I toss my shit in the trunk.
“Hey there, young man,” Ed smiles as he gently pats my shoulder as I crawl into the passenger seat. Mr. Morgan is dressed in a suit, but he loosens his tie as he opens the sunroof and lowers the windows. It’s warm for September, even in Virginia, but I figure we’ll soon be crawling up into the cool mountain air and anyway, the breeze from the backroads feels fantastic. Ed pushes a button and leaned back in his seat, relaxing into a good driving position. His legs are spread and I have to say, even with his suit, you can tell the man has excellent, muscled thighs.
Then it hits me. Full on, like an eighteen-wheeler smashing into a brick wall. This man, Emily’s father, is one good looking specimen. I mean, I’ve noticed before, but always in a removed, abstract sort of way. This is different, I feel myself get excited looking at this man sitting next to me. All the times I’d messed around with my buds, I’d never even paid attention to any man older than me. Yet here I am examining the five o’clock shadow clinging to Ed’s face; like his temples it’s dark in complexion but speckled with silver. My crotch swells as I imagine running my dickhead along the rough surface of his lips and chin. Shit, I don’t know what I’m thinking having these thoughts, here and now, but they’re flooding over me as we talk. They only grow as Ed turns to me from time to time, punctuating a point by a flash of his hazel eyes.
I do my best to suppress these forbidden thoughts and keep up the conversation.
****
It was almost two years ago when I met Emily, and since then my life has changed so much, so much for the better. I was just a senior finishing up my studies in Boston. No place great, just the sort of private business college school that could get you connections and a job but not so hard that you had to do much work. That’s the way I liked it, I guess, cause I’m a bit of the dumb jock at heart. Not that I was really stupid, more that my priorities were pretty simple – sports, sex, beer and hanging with my buds. Studying wasn’t one of them.
I played varsity football, running back, but given our penny-ante league, “varsity” was pretty amateur. Still, it kept my 6’1″ frame in great shape, even if I was starting to get a little extra padding on my 200 lb. frame by my senior year. Besides, it was great having a brotherhood of close friends from the team. Most of my teammates were sex hounds like me and we spent every other night trawling the bars looking for some chick to take home… or when that failed we’d even help each other out. It was great that we could get our rocks off with each other without all the hangups you’d expect. Maybe that’s what made it more intense.
I swore Emily was gonna be another one night stand. She came on to me at an off-campus party, her hands massaging my beefy chest through my team T, and her nails doing a number on my nips that was making me all stiff in my cargo shorts. She told me she had a weakness for blonde, blue-eyed jocks like me. Within twenty minutes we were making out in the middle of the party. Within forty, we were back in my room and writhing naked on my twin bed.
She moaned approvingly when she first saw my exposed cock. That surprised me. See, I’m pretty big. No, scratch that. I’m hung like a bull, with a thick 10 incher that swells up real nice when I got the horns, which was just about all the time, and a pair of lime-sized nuts that dangle beneath. That’s where I got my nickname, Torp, short for Torpedo. Most people thought it was from my performance on the football field, but that’s not why my teammates called me that. It was my massive dick; they always joked that my weapon could do some serious damage.
While every egotistical twenty-one-year-old jock cares about his bragging rights, my experience is that most women don’t really care for them big. A lot of my conquests probably never relaxed into their fuck they were too busy trying to breathe deep and accommodate me. But Emily seemed to take to me from the start. That first night, she rode me like a bull and drained three successive loads from my jock balls. As I ushered her out the door the next morning, I told her I’d give her a call and thought Yeah, right. Only the following night I got boned thinking about how great she was in bed. Before I knew it the phone was in my hand.
Pretty soon we were dating. Funny how a relationship can sneak up on you. What’s more, it wasn’t merely convenience or sex, I was falling head over heels for her. Something about her girl-next-door innocence turned me on, but so too did her obvious intelligence. And unlike some of the trashy girls at our college, there was definitely something classy about Emily. Auburn hair, tall and confident, she had my heart sinking every time she walked up to me on campus.
****
It was the week before I asked Emily to move in with me in our own apartment that I knocked on my best friend Joe Sheehan’s dorm room door. Joe was a little sore that I hadn’t been spending all that much time with him and the guys, but he was never one to hold a grudge and I’m sure he understood that it wasn’t about him, it was about me being blindsided by something I never thought I’d want, a committed relationship. In case he didn’t I had to show him.
“Come in,” Joe called out, and when I entered I saw the burly baseball jock, clad only in a tight white T-shirt and a loose pair of boxers, hunkered over a chemistry textbook.
“Hey Torp,” he grinned as he looked up and saw me. “What’s up, bud?”
I walked up to my friend and gripped the back of his head and shoved it straight into my crotch roughly. I was already hard, and I guess Joe got the hint cause he started gnawing at my oversized fuckstick through the flimsy shorts I had on. I gripped the guy’s hair and rubbed his face against my nylon-clad cock.
“Aw, that feels great, bud. Yeah, eat that fucker, get it ready for your mouth.”
It’s funny, cause in all our years at college, we never laid out any ground rules for our fucking around, but when it came to getting it on, it was always the guys servicing my dick, not the other way around. Like it was understood that my size meant I was the big guy, the alpha male in the bunch. No one ever said as much, but then again, I was never the one sucking dick or getting fucked.
I dropped trou and Joe gasped as my cockhead penetrated his mouth. Then the sound of stuffed jock mouth filled the room as I pistoned in and out. I was horned up bad. I’d screwed Emily the night before, but at my age I could bust a nut several times a day and often did. Joe’s mouth was the perfect tight, wet receptacle for my fuck attack. I pile-drived my cock in and out, while Joe tried to grab ahold of my thrusting asscheeks for balance.
“Fuck!” I growled as I unloaded my salty sap into my best friend’s gullet.
When I pulled out and we both came back down to earth, I patted him on the shoulder and thanked him for the fantastic blowjobs but told him that would be our last, as I was going to proposed to Emily. He congratulated me with a tight hug and a pat on the back as his own cock rubbed against my side and leaked forth its own remnants of his seed.
****
“Brian, meet my parents, Edward and Nancy Morgan. Mom and Dad, this is Brian Henley.”
I was nervous about this “meet the parents” visit. Emily’s family was from the DC area, so it was a good year into our relationship when we went down to see them. Our discussions had turned serious lately, about whether and when we might get married, what we were going to do after graduation. Emily wanted to move down to Northern Virginia to be near her family. I wasn’t sure, but I had to admit I had less attachment to Boston and my parents. This visit would mean a lot. As an only child, Emily’s parents meant the world to her, and I wanted to be accepted.
Fortunately, her mother and father were both great. Nancy was a professional woman, a lawyer, but she had a Southern charm that gave her a warm, friendly grace. And in her mid-40s she looked pretty great, I couldn’t help but notice. I don’t mean that in a lecherous way, just that I find it appealing when people take care of themselves as they get older. Edward Morgan was pretty well preserved himself. He was a couple of inches taller than me, probably 6’3″ though he probably weighed just shy of what I did. In other words, he kept a pretty great physique for anyone, 45 or not. He was the quintessential handsome businessman, tanned and well-groomed, with strong, defined features and streaks of gray branding his temples. And he had a twinkle in his eye and a friendly nature that kept me at ease. We instantly hit it off.
Which made my mission easier. See, I’m a bit of a traditional guy in some things. I felt it was right to ask Emily’s dad for permission to propose. So after dinner, while Emily and her mom were talking in the kitchen over coffee, Edward and I sat out on the porch, watching the sun set. He poured us two scotches and offered me a cigar. Premium shit. We sat there enjoying our drink and smoke and shooting the breeze, relaxing. Finally I got around to broaching the subject.
“Brian, I appreciate your asking, but you don’t need my permission. I trust Emily to make her own decisions. For what it’s worth though, I can’t imagine a finer man for her to marry, if that’s what she wants.”
He clinked his glass against mine in a silent toast.
“Thanks, sir.” I muttered before taking a drink.
“It’s Edward, Brian,” Emily’s father laughed at my formality. “You can call me Ed.”
Afterward, Edward asked me about my plans after college. Since I was an accounting major I told him I would look at the major firms for an entry-level position. By the time we rejoined the women, it was decided Edward would use his influence as a Senior VP in his company to get me a position there, if I wanted it.
“Sure, Ed,” I said gratefully. “I’d appreciate any help or advice you could give.”
Things seemed to happen quickly after that. Graduation, moving to Virginia, starting my new job, wedding plans. Not only did Mr. Morgan pull his strings to get me a job at a nearby company, it turned out he owned a rental property that Emily and I were able to live in rent-free to save up money. I don’t think I’d realized at first how loaded Emily’s family was. Not that it really mattered, but it was a nice bonus I had to admit.
****
When Mr. Morgan said “cabin,” what I didn’t realize is that their mountain place is practically a mansion. Tasteful and rustic, sure, but big with climate control and all the modern conveniences. There’s the cathedral ceiling, a giant window overlooking the lake, and a big screen TV on the adjoining wall. The house is secluded with just a couple of others were around, but those are few and far between. The solitude is amazing.
I take in the amazing view, feeling the stress leaving my body. Yeah, a long weekend up here is just what the doctor ordered.
Edward sets down his bag and undoes his tie. “We have about an hour of daylight. I’m going to get a run in, if you don’t mind. We can grill up some burgers after.”
“All right,” I say. “Though I probably should be joining you. I’ve put on a few pounds lately.”
Mr. Morgan is a runner who likes to keep in shape and is always training for a marathon or half-marathon, or some race or another. I’m not up to his distance, even as a physically fit ex-jock, but we often talk about our jogging regimen.
“You look fine, Brian,” he chuckles. “But if you want to join me, I can use the company.”
“Yeah,” I agree. Thankfully I packed my running shoes.
The exercise feels good, and it feels surprisingly like jogging with one of my college buddies instead of my fiancee’s father. It’s great to shoot the shit with another guy. I mean, I’ve only been down in the DC area for a few months, and still don’t know many folks outside of the office. Hanging out with my soon-to-be father-in-law is the male bonding I didn’t realize I was missing.
It’s a late Summer day, warm even in the mountains, and I’m getting hot, so I take off my shirt to reveal my sweaty, smooth chest. A quarter-mile later, Edward does the same. And I have to say his torso looks great. He has less bulk than me, but a hard-muscled shield that stretch its sinews down from shoulder to the shorts resting on his hips. I have a gay buddy, Jeff, who once called some guy a DILF, and that’s all I can think of looking at Ed. The waves of chest and ab muscles rippled like a Greek statue’s, only they were fuller, no longer the hyper-cut, lithe body of twenty-year old but rather the seasoned build of a man whose body and metabolism have changed. On top of it all a thick layer of dark hair flecks with silver specks, interrupted only by two large, succulent man-nipples. I size him up and admire that any man in his forties could be that in shape and look that astonishing. Yeah, maybe it’s something more, but I try not to think of that.
When we stop, a little out of breath, our eyes lock. I’d never noticed them before, clear hazel eyes that latch onto my gaze just momentarily.
He breaks the spell. “If you wanna hit the shower first, feel free,” he says as we enter back into the cabin. “I’ll fire up some burgers on the grill.”
“All right,” I reply. Then I surprise even myself by kicking off my running shoes and hooking my thumbs in the waistband of my shorts. Before either of us have a chance to say anything or react, I’m nude in front of Edward Morgan, my genitals swaying proudly between my legs. It’s like I’m driven to show my future father-in-law my endowment, to show how much a man was marrying his daughter. Call it fucked up, but at this moment, I have this unstoppable inner desire to prove myself, to show off.
Ed’s face shows a mixture of surprise and admiration. He quickly, not too secretly, sizes up my powerful jock body from head to foot, but otherwise doesn’t miss a beat. “Towels are in the shelf to you right. Hot water takes a little while to run.”
“Thanks, I won’t be long,” I promise, heading into the bathroom.
When I’m almost done, I hear Ed’s voice on the other side of the shower. “Leave the water on.” When I step out, I’m surprised to see Ed nude and waiting. I’ve seen his torso earlier, but the whole body exposed is a fine sight. Where I strutted, Ed is comfortable in his skin. His cock is nowhere as big as mine, but he seems equally proud of his equipment.
He gives me a paternal pat on the back as he squeezes by. By the time I dress I have to say I’m a little chubbed.
****
Dinner’s great, but the shots of bourbon we chase with our beers are even better. It’s awesome to have this bonding time with Mr. Morgan. We talk sports, business, politics, marriage, basically everything.
I keep thinking about earlier, the way we’ve seen each other naked. It’s like me with my buddies but I’m entertaining the idea that it might be something more. But I see nothing in Ed’s expression now out of the ordinary. Just future father-in-law talking to his future son-in-law.
Besides, the run and the booze catch up with us, and pretty soon we’re heading to bed. Edward wants to hit the links bright and early tomorrow and the nearest course is a thirty minute drive.
****
Good thing I have the power of a twenty-four year old driving the ball, usually straight down the fairway, because the rest of my golf game sucks. I’m trying to learn from Ed and he patiently gives me advise. One of these days I’ll beat him, but no time soon.
We have a couple of beers at the club, with another burger dinner, and head back to the lake house.
“You know what would hit the spot?” Mr. Morgan asks as he pulling the Lexus into the long winding driveway.
“What?” I ask, feeling relaxed as hell.
“Firing up the hot tub. The air’s starting to cool up here.” Indeed, it’s about ten degrees cooler than yesterday.
“Fuck yeah,” I say. Normally I don’t curse around Mr. Morgan, but like I say I’m feeling pretty relaxed now.
It makes him chuckle, too.
Ed showers off and I do, too. I put on my swim trunks and when I get down to the deck I see Ed has his on, too. Only after ten minutes or so in the tub, he says in a casual offhand way. “I like these better in my birthday suit. It’s just us men here. You mind?”
I nod no and watch as he shimmies out of his trunks and pulls them up out of the water, plopping them on the deck next to the tub. “There. Much better.” He relaxes into bubbles, shutting his eyes briefly before cracking them open again. “Feel free, Brian. I swear you’ll be glad.”
I’m nervous, I mean, my father-and-law-to-be are on good terms but not that close. But I figure what the hell. My trunks land next to his and I ease back into the jets. He’s right, it feels awesome.
“Thanks for inviting me up here, Ed. This place is pretty great.”
“Any time. You and Em will be spending a lot of time up here, I’m sure once you’re married. Besides, I figured you could use a break from all the wedding planning.”
“And how,” I say. “If I have to see another invitation or catering menu…”
“Ha. I love the women in my life dearly but sometimes I need a little guy time. You know?”
I nod in agreement. Despite the age difference and despite the fact he’s my in-law, it’s relaxed, like hanging out with my fraternity brothers or workmates. It’s a nice realization.
That is, until I feel his leg brush against mine. It’d be fine only the contact makes me bone up. I’ve tried not to think of Ed that way, but the close proximity and the setting and the nudity is making me think of him that way. I can see his built chest, the hair trimmed but covering the expanse of his hard muscle and thickening down toward the abs.
It’s the worst time to be having these thoughts but I can’t help it. Not while knowing Mr. Morgan’s nude underneath the bubbles. And not while seeing these quiet stares he’s giving me during lulls in our conversation. I find myself staring back, equally intense and quiet, meeting his challenge with my own gaze. Feeding off the sexual energy centered in my throbbing erection beneath the water. I just hope I can will myself softer before I have to get out.
He closes his eyes again, savoring the warmth of the water and letting me inspect his body more closely. He’s a white collar dude, an executive at a risk-management company. But his muscle is real lean, and manly. Fuck.
“I’m gonna prune up,” he whispers and turns his body around, hoisting himself up. I think he’s getting out of the tub, but instead he props his upper body along the edge, keeping his legs in the tub but facing away from me.
God, his back is as trim and strong as his front. He’s had his back shaved or waxed, I can tell, but the fur has sprouted back. Best of all is his ass – round, perfectly shaped, powerful.
It’s like he’s on display for me. I mean, no guy gets out of a hot tub like that, right? But I can’t be sure. I can only stare, erect as I’ve ever been, staring at my dad-in-law’s ass. I fooled around with some of the guys in my fraternity and yes I’ve fucked ass a few times. That was carefree fun, this is something more primal, more off-the-hook sexual. Taboo as fuck.
We’re like that for a few minutes. Me too chicken to do anything but wanting to badly. Until I finally announce that I’m gonna prune up, too and lift my self to a seated position. My boner stands up obscenely but I have to take a chance. Edward isn’t looking back, he just mumbles an acknowledgment as I nudge his leg with my right foot. He spreads his legs a little. An unmistakeable sign.
My heard pounding, I stand up in the tub. I don’t have to move forward eight inches before I’m making contact with Edward’s body. Legs against legs, my hover cock hovering a little above his proffered ass. He shuffles a little, bucking up against me, communicating unmistakeable desire.
I bend down a little and nestle my dick against his crack. That gets a deep moan out of the man. Fuck, this is gonna happen.
I nudge my prick down so the head is against his hole. It’s snug and damp from the water and feels wonderful. I take in the sensation but soon Ed is back himself against me, applying pressure until my cock pops inside him. I’m taken by surprise but not nearly as much as when I watch him buck his ass back against my dick. Hustling himself all the way down, silently but hornily. Eager to get himself fucked.
I grip his trim waist, grappling on eagerly. I steady myself and him and use my hips to control the fucking motion. I’m concerned the dry fuck would be too hard on him, but I realize he’s lubed himself up already with something greasy. Pretty soon my cock is a well-oiled piston plunging and out of his tight dad hole.
It’s hot and so nasty. Me boning my father in law like this, without even exchanging words. Just him bending over for me. I can’t hold back, I start coming. A long, loud cum as I let loose a good few days’ load inside the man.
He’s close behind and I can sense him flag his cock furiously trying to cum while I’m still unloading in him. Sure enough, he starts choking back loud grunts as ropes of semen start flying out onto the deck.
I’m slowing down my thrust to a standstill and before I pull out I can’t help it, I lean forward and give the back of his neck a kiss.
When my spent cock plops free, Ed bounds up out of the tub, and I watch as my burly father in law picks up the hose and washes my cum out of his ass crack, like it’s the most natural thing in the world to do. He slips on his flip flops and walks back into the house.
I think uh-oh, here comes the weird part of the evening. The reckoning. I’m spent of energy and a little light headed from the booze and the hot tub and the fucking and I sit back into the water and catch my breath.
Only the screen door opens again and Ed walks out, still nude as the news, his hardon shrunken to a respectable length of soft floppy penis swaying along with his heavy ball sac. In his hand are two fresh beers. He hands me one as he kicks off his flip flops and steps back into the tub.
“Here you go, Brian. You deserve it after that performance.”
I blush but return a cocky grin, a little proud of the intense fuck I just threw the man.
“Not your first time doing that, I take it?” Edward asks.
“No sir,” I take a sip of beer. It’s probably the best tasting beer I’ve ever had.
“I could tell. Not my first time either, but you probably figured that out.”
I laugh. “I thought maybe you’d had some experience.”
Ed smiles and enjoys his beer, too, before getting a serious look. “I know I’m not in much a position to ask, but… is there anything I should know about? You know, pertaining to you and Em?”
“No, Em and I are great. I’m straight, well bi,” I answer. “I thought my college experiments were behind me…”
“Guess I never outgrew mine,” Ed says thoughtfully.
I can tell he feels guilty as hell, and truth be told I’m feeling some major guilt as well. But I know if my dad-in-law offers himself to me again, I’m gonna bone him again. And the very thought makes my dick firm up once more in the water.
He must sense something in the way I’m looking at him, because he practically growls. “Jesus, Brian, are you getting hard again already?”
“Yeah, Edward,” I nod affirmatively, taking a long draw on my beer. It’s cheeky to call him by his full first name.
Ed shakes his head in disbelief. “It’ll take me a little while to recover.”
“I got nowhere to go,” I say.
Ed laughs. “Figures I’d get a horndog for a son-in-law.” He clinks my bottle with his in a toast. “To long weekends.”
“To long weekends,” I say, running my feet along his hairy calves, enjoying the feel of my erection sticking up in the warm water. Enjoying even more Mr. Morgan’s eyes on it, as he shakes his head incredulously. Like he’s surprised that I’m hung as big as I am. Or that I’m still erect.
We sit and drink our beers and settle back into the guy talk we had last night. We talk about the Nationals season and trying to fit in a game in September. We talk about golfing again tomorrow. “I’m getting you some lessons for your birthday,” Ed says. “There’s a golf pro at my club who can get your swing into shape.”
“That’s be incredible, sir,” I said, the deference come back automatically. “I don’t know if I should admit this, but it’s my goal to beat you one of these days.”
The man laughed and shook his head. “Not happening, Mr. Henley. Not before I’m 70.” When it came to golf this humble man was downright cocky, but he had a reason to be. His game was really fucking good.
“Maybe not,” I admit, “But I gotta try.”
I could see the approval in his sparkling eyes. He liked my moxie. “How’s the job coming?” I was working for one of Ed’s good buddies. It was a step up from a starter position and not the most exciting work, but I’d been doing my best to step into the role and make myself noticed.
“It’s been great, sir. I’m learning a lot.”
“Yeah, Pete says you’re one go-getter.” He reaches over and pulls closer the bottle of bourbon he set out earlier, with two shot glasses. He plops the cork out and pours us both one. We lift our glasses and clink.
“What do you say about putting your nose to the grind stone for Pete for another year and I’ll get you a junior exec job at Pierson?” he asks, referring to his company.
“Wow. I appreciate all you’ve done for me, sir,” I say, truthfully. We pound back the spirit, feeling the burn in our throats.
“A young man who knows how to work hard and play hard,” Mr. Morgan says. “I like that.”
I’m feeling an inner glow now, and I find myself giving my dad-in-law a goofy grin.
“Stand up,” he asks, real quiet.
“Sir?” I don’t quite hear him.
“Stand up, Brian. I want to see you.”
I do, feeling my oats as his eyes rake over my ex-football jock build. My cock had softened but now it plumps out with his gaze on it.
“Fuck you’re big,” he says and scoots forward. Now he starts licking the length, teasing the head with his tongue before suckling it in his mouth. My prick responds by firming up rapidly, growing longer and larger.
“It’s how I got the nickname Torp,” I said, hands on my hips as Edward fellated me. “For torpedo.”
Soon Mr. Morgan is struggling to suck it. He spits it out and groans as he nestles his face against it. It’s weird to see this experienced, powerful man worship my genitals like this. And one hell of a turn on.
“I want it, Bri,” he hisses. “Want you to fuck me again.”
“In your bed,” I breathe, eager to screw Em’s dad in his own bedroom.
We step out of the tub and dry off, our boners rigid in the night air. I practically hump him as he stops to open the patio door, and he can feel my giant tool against his back.
“Damn, I must be insane,” he whispers, I’m not sure if in reference to my cock size or the fact of fooling around with his son and law. Lustily, I wrap my arms around and rub his torso and give his neck a kiss, eliciting a deep groan.
We stumble inside and make our way to his bedroom. Our heart pound as we stand across from one another, facing each other in an intense sexual stare.
“I want to fuck you in every room in this house,” I say, the horny thought passing straight from my mind to my mouth.
We step forward and I know nothing’s going to stop us. Our faces near, and turn slightly and now I’m kissing my dad-in-law full on the lips. Romantic, lusty, taboo-crossing, the whole works. It’s like pyrotechnics as our tongues meet and caress one another. I push him back to the bed and topple on top of him.
He’s lubed from before and if possible there’s even less foreplay this time. I enter Ed and slowly fuck him, my eyes meeting his hungry gaze the whole time.
“Oh fuck, Bri, son. That’s it boy. Fuck me.”
“Aw yeah, Daddy,” I test the waters of this new taboo, and I see the man’s nostrils flare. He’s into the idea, too. As much as I am, maybe more. The knowledge makes me thrust in harder into his bare ass, feeling the lube and the tightness and my last load packed up deep in the man’s bowels. I continue. “No one else calls you Edward, to they Daddy?”
He nods, urging me on, physically and mentally. “No, son. Just you.”
That makes my chest well and the power push through my glutes. My cock drives harder now, but Mr. Morgan takes it like a trooper. Now holding on to my big arms to steady himself.
“Fuck me, boy. Fuck Daddy with that horse cock of yours.”
I bury my face in the crook of his neck and really go to town. Our second fuck tonight and somehow it’s even more intense than the first. I hear Ed whimper beneath me. “Oh that’s it, son. Oh Bri! Bri! You’re gonna make me come. Oh Jesus!” Ed growls and I feel his warm seed spurt between his DILF trim body and my more muscular one. The feeling gets me there too, and I shoot a load into his hole, my swimmers joining their brothers in there already.
“Damn,” I hiss finally leaning up and catching my breath. My cock’s still buried in Ed, and doesn’t seem eager for me to pull out. I lean down and we kiss once more, slower this time.
I know what we’re both thinking. That this is going to continue, despite our best efforts of willpower. We’re both in over our heads, me marrying his daughter, Edward trying to be a good dad. But we don’t say anything, not now. He just caresses my arms and shoulders and I give small pulsing thrusts of my cock inside my dad-in-law’s snug welcoming ass.
“I’m sleeping in here tonight, with you,” I finally say. The right thing is to go to my room and for us to pretend tonight didn’t happen. But I’m not in the mood to do the right thing.
Neither is Ed. “Yeah, Torp.” His hairy body snuggles up to mine, and our lips meet once more.
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