Ramos – King

Ramos sat in his lounge watching the knights lead the way to the next village. So far the stops have been a disappointment. Old ineffectual leaders, cannibalism,  a dairy far from making its quota. He asked himself why did he claim this throne. Any of his sibling brothers would have fit better.

He and his brothers were within a couple years of the same age; all having gone through the learning center at the same time; life was different then, in the castle. 

Ramos had several sex slaves; but the castle rules kept them collared and mostly on their knees. He remembered walking into his father’s throne room to initially see a group of kneeling naked slaves  to his right. To his left was the implements of punishment his father was so keen on using. 

A closer look at the kneeling slaves Ramos could see the red marks of whips and lashes across their backs. All had large black plugs in their asses. The slaves were silent. In the king’s presence slaves were never to be heard. Ramos knew his father had disabled many voice boxes to keep the beatings he gave silent. Ramos had often been required to attend these beatings and to punish the sex slaves with six inch penis gags and twelve inch anal dildos. The slaves writhed on the floors and looked pitifully at the young prince. He would do nothing to end their suffering. Slaves  died regularly in the castle; their bloody bodies to be burned in the plaza. 

“Father. You’ve been gazing at the city for so long I thought you might have fallen asleep while standing. ” Luc chuckled at his poor attempt at humor. 

“Father!! You’re crying!! “

Ramos wiped his eyes with his robe but remained silent. 

Luc embraced his father, his hands under the King’s robe. 

“Father. Your skin feels so cold!”

Ramos remained silent, still staring out over the city. Luc’s hand dropped from his father’s waist to the man’s bottom. 

Raising a finger to his mouth, “Father there is still seed here…” the Prince’s  hand had returned to lightly rub against Ramos’s ass hole. “May I clean it for you?” 

Ramos wasn’t listening, his thoughts still pondering his father’s cruelty and how it had infected so many Doemosians. 

“Why did I let it go on for so long?”  The words were but whispers. Luc knew his King was talking to himself, recriminating himself for his  own father’s bloody history. 

“How many poor beautiful boys died for no other reason but forPhileus to witness their pitiful end?”

Luc had begun  licking and sucking the sweet cum from his father’s hole.The Prince  was gentle, slowly using his tongue to draw out the salty seed within. He wished to give his father pleasure, to get his mind off the terrible weight that had been thrust upon him. His hands gripped the kings waist and turned him so the royal cock was in front of him. Ramos and his son locked eyes. Luc began by toying with the slit in the cock’s dark massive head. 

Eyes still fixed in his father’s, Luc took the large head into his mouth and slowly his lips  found its way to the royal pubis. 

Ramos didn’t remove his cock, but began the slow deepthroat fucking that they both seemed to expect, to crave, even. Putting his hands on Luc’s bald head he gently guided the throating. As the pace picked up Luc tried hard to suck harder and harder, wanting his father’s seed to fill his mouth and throat. The Prince’s eyes closed in concentration. Ramos held his son’s head lovingly, grateful to have the heinous memories disappear for this sweet moment of pleasure. He didn’t plunge wantonly into the soft warm throat; he fucked slowly, feeling the head of his cock as it breached into the boy’s  throat. 

The boys’s  own hard-on was throbbing as small amounts of pre-cum could be seen dripping to the terraces’s stone floor. As Ramos shot his seed deep into his son’s throat, the load continuing to fill his mouth, a deep sigh escaped the King’s lips. Closing his eyes and holding perfectly still the delightful spasm shook his body.

Luc inwardly smiled as his father’s issue flooded his mouth; the large load slowly but surely drifted down his throat. 

“Thank you, Luc. I guess I needed that more than I realized “

Luc could see his father was still distressed; the moments of distraction fading. The tour of the realm still haunted everyone in the caravan. 

“Have you decided yet?”

Ramos placed a hand on Luc’s bald head, smiling at the kneeling boy. “Not yet.”

“How many settlements are still out there?  How many are ……”

“I know father…….and I know you’ll do something about it. You’ll do the right thing. “

The royals had visited several small mountain settlements to find some grossly abusing their slaves. 

Bebe walked to stand by the royals, he held Luc’s hand. “That could have been any of us”. 

Luc squeezed his fathers hand “At least the dairies are full now”

It took a few seconds but the three had to smile. Those who were marched to the dairies had made quite a fuss, pleading that their  offerings had been to the gods and especially to the royals…..who had so generously supplied them with slaves. The slaves which they beat and discarded as well as those who became offerings in their blighted ceremonies. 

“They’ve all assembled your highness” Ramos’s assistant had entered and saw the three standing at the balustrade. As the three turned towards him he noticed a string of white seed dangling from the King’s cock and a stream of the same on the Prince’s chin. He smiled. He knew the king was upset after returning from the tour of the realm. He also knew his son and his seven consorts were as concerned as he was himself. The gathering of nobles in the great room was to address the findings of the excursion. 

Luc was smiling; the king and Bebe, somber. 

They entered the great room to an obvious sudden hush. Luc had been curious as to the lack of chatter as they approached; the nobles usually being serviced under the table. That noise was always immediately recognizable. 

The three stood just inside the doorway. Ramos still wore his robes, open in the front. The nobles couldn’t help but notice the string of seed hanging from his royal cock. Luc’s chin had not been cleaned. The boy,  quite proud to display his fealty to the King . Bebe wore a thong, Luc was nude, his dick stiff and standing straight up. 

The nobles silently stood, 

“Sit, gentlemen.” Ramos commanded. 

The king and prince sat at the head of the table, Bebe joined the other consorts standing against the wall. 

Whispering, “Why are the slaves kneeling and why are they facing the walls?” Bebe asked Maq. 

“Shhh………This looks bad!!” Maq whispered back. 

In a low voice, ” Father….?”

The king rested a hand on Luc’s thigh and squeezed softly, “Be calm. It’s all okay”

Ramos raised a hand and pointed at his general. “Why don’t you begin, general?”

The portly man stood, his garish garb surprised the seven, their gasps just above a whisper. 

The noble, the general, wore shiny metal arm bands, a golden breast plate emblazoned with the King’s coat of arms. His junk was covered with a metal jock strap type piece, its  pouch etched with the form of an erect penis and handsomely carved balls. 

“Your highness……..” the general began. 

Ramos again raised his hand. “First report on the mission you and your army were  assigned”

The general was silent, perplexed. 

“Well?”  Ramos’s voice was noticeably and most deliberately louder. 

At the far end of the table Marshram stood motioning for the general to sit. 

“Your highness if I may…….”

Luc felt his father’s hand tighten on his thigh. He gave the king an alarmed glance, the seven whispering behind them. 

One of the seated nobles spoke just loud enough to be heard “They were only slaves. !!”

Ramos was up and quickly grabbed an ornamental sword from the wall, with a  growl he headed toward the insolent noble who had just spoken.

A desperate nod from Luc and the seven raced forward to stop their king from murdering the noble who had obviously misspoken. 

The table had erupted into chaos. The nobles standing and loudly shouting curses at the king. 

Luc raised his right hand, “S I T!!!”

Still grumbling the nobles took their seats; Ramos and the consorts returned to Luc’s side. The king sat with his seven all standing over him, not restricting him but showing support. 

Luc remained standing waiting for the crowd to settle. He noticed the kneeling slaves had moved closer to one another. Shoulders touching. Holding hands. 

“Only slaves, you say?”

The room was silent, all eyes on the bald prince whose voice had become commanding. 

“You’re Fry, aren’t you? Watching over the commerce of our kingdom?” 

The noble nodded feebly. Still rattled over the king’s sudden aggression and lethal threat. 

“Which one of your slaves would you have us feast on tonight?…….i think I’d choose the curly haired blond …BOY!!…”

All eyes were fixed on Luc. 

“I think we should fatten him up and fill his ass with seed for seasoning…….sew up his asshole before roasting. ….what do you say, Fry?”

The noble was speechless.

“Or better yet let’s fatten all your slaves up…..and maybe you too”. The nobles began rising from their seats, protests growing on their lips. 

“Naw….I’m sure you’d be tough and sour”. 

The nobles were once again standing, protests growing into a concophony of unintelligible voices. 

“SIT!! NOW!!”

Luc’s demeanor left nothing to the imagination. 

“We all ate that meal!!!! Everyone on the tour sat and ate that slave. Giving compliments to the cook!!! For fuck sake!!!”

The silence was unnerving. The kneeling slaves had bunched together, arms around each other. 

Looking at the group huddled against the wall, “These slaves are no longer yours. These sex slaves are now mine. They belong to the royalty in this kingdom. They are no longer subject to your commands. They are mine!!” Luc turned and grinned ruefully at the seven, “And the royal consorts…..and yes, of course Maq.”  Turning back to the table: “You ‘nobles no longer have slaves. In fact I give you all a choice. “

The murmurs were growing, the nobles agitated. 

“You have a choice. And I demand you make it before leaving this room”

The murmuring didn’t stop. The general reached behind him, clutching a kneeling slave by the hair he drug the boy and pushed him under the table and set a foot on him to keep him from moving. 

Luc watched this insubordination. “Maq?”

Mag, who had been grouped with his masters, the seven, turned to the prince. Obviously surprised. Clueless as to why his name had been uttered. 

“Would you help that slave to return to his former position with his brother slaves?…..Please”

Maq was still clueless. 

“Kill the general and let the boy return to his kin”

Maq was frozen. The thought racing through his mind : ‘impossible’. He knew he was addressed by his ultimate master; that his actions are mandated by his very existence. But he was a sex slave….not a murderer!!

He gazed beseechingly at the prince. 

After a pause, Luc smiled at the trembling boy. 

“General you are relieved of duty. You are to report to the nearest dairy and present yourself for service.”

The general stood fast, looking at the nobles for support. Getting none, he removed his boot from the sex slave’s throat. He stood alone trying to appear proud and unaffected. 

The general was escorted by his own guards out of the great room. The slave rose and returned to his kneeling position with the others. Luc adressed the remaining nobles: “Your choice is this: chastity or the dairy. Decide now!! “

Those seated at the table traded looks, trying to find some kind of consensus to refuse the scurrilous demands of the prince. 

“Guards!! Take these scum to the dungeons. We’ll give them the rest of the day  to choose…..unless I make their choice for them.”

Ramos’s hands had been holding his face during the entire affair. Luc and the consorts comforted him as he sobbed. The King’s loud sobbing filled the giant room, the  sex slaves too embarrassed to watch. 

Luc rested a hand on his father’s shoulder. 

“You have not failed, father. You are the hero of this kingdom. Slaves will no longer be mistreated.”

With those words spoken, all in the room knew that for the first time in history a slave had become ruler of Doemos  and the eleven other realms of the kingdom.

My name is Ricky, I’m 18 and was born with a desire to masturbate as often as I can. Me being a robust, young teen helps with my constant dick stroking. This is a story about how my throbbing dick gave me the best interaction with my dad I’ve ever had.

I just got back from college, I was sexually pent up. Earlier that day, Jason, the college jock, who I find absolutely dreamy, popped the biggest wood I’ve ever seen in the locker room after gym. He of course thought it was funny and him and his other jock friends laughed and joked about how he would take someone’s eye out with it. He had a beautiful pecker. Bulbous head, veiny shaft, hairy, heavy nuts. I tried my best to keep from looking, lest I pop a boner as well. I felt my own dick starting to rise, so I hastily finished getting dressed and made my way to the bathroom and I unloaded a stream of hot boy cum into the toilet bowl. After my satisfying cumshot, I finished the day and walked home. That’s when Jason and his friends drove by hooting and hollering as they went past. Jason had his erect penis sticking straight out of the car’s window and I stared jaw agape as they flew by. All I heard was their laughter and tires screeching as the car dispareared around the corner. I was fully erect again, my penis leaked and throbbed as I made my way home. It was hard to conceal the absolute unit of a cock I had, the dick bulge was not hiding anything. Some construction workers whistled at me as I walked by, further flaming my engorged penis. 

I made it home. My dad had left a note letting me know he would be home around 7pm. I looked at the clock, 245pm. I thought to myself I could easily have a good long, slow wank. I happily went into my dad’s room and went straight to his bedside table. I opened the bottom drawer, and there it was. His sex toy collection. My dad had some pretty good toys. He had several fleshlights, he had some vibrating dildos and a magic wand with a silicone head attachment. I hungerly looked at the clear fleshlight and magic wand. I grabbed both and got comfortable on my dad’s bed. I popped on some noise-cancelling headphones and got to work. 

My dick was already on fire. I was rock hard, my cock was a deep, angry red. My piss slit was slick and wet with precum. My hand and fingers expertly explored my hot flesh. I rubbed and massaged my chest and nipples, sending a warm wave of pleasure washing over me. 

After I worked over my tight, rock hard body I moved my hands down and caressed my inner thighs, my cock was dancing. Beads of precum were painted all over my lower stomach. My balls ached and hummed. I slowly squeezed the base of my thickness and let out a groan as I pulled out a load of precum from my balls. I felt it trickle up my dick and my cock head felt like it was going to pop. I saw with hazy ecstasy as my dick throbbed uncontrollably, I hardly noticed my dad standing in the doorway of his room. I didn’t hear him come in, the headphones blocking out all sound. He was watching me. I snapped out of my sex induced stupor. After I was caught, my dad walked over to the bed and without saying a word, pushed me back down and sat on the edge of the bed. He looked at my swinging dick. I was primal. I needed to cum. 

My dad without a word, grabbed the fleshlight and proceeded to slide it onto my aching cock. I watched as my entire length was swallowed by the soft, flesh-like toy. The walls squeezing my hard cock, my head being assaulted with pounds of pleasure. I was moaning. My dad slowly fucked my cock with the fleshlight. I bucked and grinded my hips into the toy. My dad was barely holding it and I needed to thrust my hips in order to get my cock to slide in and out of it. My dad was hypnotized by my low-hanging balls. He cupped them with his hand and fondled them lightly. My balls sent a spark to my cockhead, I felt my dick contact and spazam. My dad hungerly took the fleshlight off my aching pole and popped my dick right into his mouth. His muffled groans sent me over the edge I lost control and proceeded to skull-fuck my dad. I was an animal. I slammed my cock into his mouth. I felt it slide down his throat and i crammed it down as far I could. My dad was gagging and spitting. I have never been more turned on in my life. After a good long while of my dad getting assaulted I gave him a break and asked him to use the wand on me. He grabbed it, slid it onto my penis and turned it on low. The soft vibrations drove me wild. I was in heaven. My cock getting serviced, not only that. Being served by my own dad. And I wasn’t even close to cumming. My dick may have been charged and ready to blow, but I wasn’t and it made the whole experience even more erotic. 

My dad masturbated me with the wand on low and fondled my balls. I wanted him to lick and suckle my nipples. I asked him, and he was all to happy to oblige. He expertly worked my nipples and would make me scream out in pure ecstasy. My dad went back to working my rigid dick. I was sticking straight up and was harder than id ever have been in my life. Dad went back to the wand and this time turned it up to high. He held it against my frenulum and at this point I was crying. I begged and pleaded for daddy to let me cum. He was quiet the entire time. He said not a word. Just went back to edging me. I threw my head back and tried to relax. I had my old man working my overly sensitive penis. I held back as long as I could. My dad alternated between the fleshlight and wand and after a few hours of this, my dad finally took me in his hand and masturbated me to the largest, strongest, intense orgasam I’ve ever experienced. I watched as it flew out of my cock, spraying my dad in the face. I must have pumped out 12 big shots of juice on my dads face. He opened his mouth and caught several spurts. He swallowed and continued to work my post-nut cock. I was overwhelmed with sensations. My penis was ultra-sensitive and my dad would not stop sucking on it. I begged and tried to pull away, my dad doubled down and sucked harder. I screamed as I unloaded another cumshot down his throat, this one wasn’t as large. But just as intense as the first. I was panting. Dad took me out of his mouth and stroked me to another orgasam. After I was unable to produce anymore cum my dad made me shoot blanks. He gave me 2 more dry orgasams that made the base of my dick burn. My balls ached after being squeezed dry. 

My dad finished his assault on me and as a punishment for going into his things, my dad fucked me. He took out his own dripping dick and with no lube, he forced his way past my tight ring of muscles. I felt my dad slide all the way into me. I felt his big balls against my hole and then I felt and heard the slapping of balls on my ass as he raped the shit out of my hole. I was crying. My hole throbbed and pulsed as he punched my insides. His length was ramming my already sensitive prostate, making my cock stick up instantly. My dick was quivering and there was a stream of precum. I was being raped by my dad. And I loved every second of it. The constant pounding of his cock against my prostate and bladder caused me to piss. I pissed all over as my dad was ramming me. It felt amazing.

After a good rough pounding from dad he gave one final thrust and I felt his dick pump into me. He gave me his entire load. Filling me with his seed. My walls milked out every drop from my dads twitching cock. My dad told me he had to pee, so he then proceeded to fill me up. I was his own personal urnial. I felt the pressure build as his piss filled me up. His penis slid out of me and when the head popped out a stream of cum mized with his strong piss spurted out. My dad caught some in his mouth and swallowed greedily. 

I was kicked out of his room shortly after he did that. My body was shaking. I left his room and went to the bathroom to shower. I felt the hot water run over my body. I was in a post-sex bliss. My dad entered the bathroom and joined me in the shower. He fucked me some more and left me a quivering, cum soaked mess. I finished my shower and left the house. I went on a long walk thinking about what happened with my dad. I was conflicted. I loved being used by my dad, but he was my dad. I wrestled with the conflicting feelings and after I made around the block several times I realized this is something I wanted. I went back home and I told my dad what I wanted. I told him how I wanted to be his own personal sex toy, how I wanted him to use me as he saw fit. I wanted to be used and abused by this man. I showed how eager I was by sucking his giant cock. My dad wasn’t that hard to push over. And after a good slow sucking, he came around. I was officially my dad’s new sex toy.

Early in the morning I wear some of her old panties and jerk off. I’m to the point now where I put plastic clothespins on my nipples, sticky tape over my mouth,  and a rubber dildo in my ass, or I can’t cum. For some strange reason, even when I started wearing panties years ago, I always had a yearning for binding myself, making it difficult to speak, and having something up my ass. Am I gay? 

This one fateful morning I was playing in my room when the doorbell rang. It was one of those days when I’d done a but more than usual to arouse myself. In addition to trying out a new ball gag, I’d also worn a training bra and a dog collar that said ‘Daddy’s bitch’ on it.  As I was struggling to get the gag out of my mouth and hide it, I’d missed removing the collar and had carelessly pulled a T-shirt on. 

George was at the door, peeking through the window, waiting for me to answer. Had I forgotten something? He had seen me coming to the door. He knocked and called out to me. I didn’t really like George all that much. He was around the house a lot. I kind of thought of him as a stepdad I didn’t have, or need.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“You said to meet you here this morning. You don’t remember?”

Oh shit. I had a problem with my car. I asked him to help me with to today. What bad timing! I unlocked the door and he walked in. I was flustered and flushed. He could tell. Then he did a double take of me. He gently pushed the door closed and locked the deadbolt. 

“What’s all this?” He said with a smile.

I looked around the room then looked myself over. I felt the collar. I suddenly realized the collar was still tight around my neck. He reached over and touched it. 

“And this?” He questioned. Pointing at my arm. I glanced to the side seeing my left bra strap was handing down over my shoulder around my arm. There was no mistaking it was a pretty pink lace bra strap. 

As I was frozen for the moment, he slipped a finger though the ring on the front of the collar and pulled me close to him. 

“If you wanted to get frisky, you just should have asked. I’ll be tour daddy, bitch.”

I tried to pull away. But there is a reason collars are used. I wasn’t getting away unless he let me free.

I didn’t know what to say. I just stood there waiting for the rest of his reaction. I was frozen. Nervous, scared and fucked. 

He waited. Just looking me over. Waiting for me to say something. There was a long, long uncomfortable silence. 

Finally he spoke again. “What do we have here?”

He noticed the ball making itself visible in the pocket of my shorts. Before I could answer, he slipped his hand inside and pulled it out. 

“Oh, I’ve seen a few of these. Like I said, if you wanted to play, you could have just asked.”

I started to shake my head and tell him that wasn’t my plan. But before I could get the words out, he popped the ball right into my mouth. 

“Look, George, I’m not…Oh! Fuck!”

“Ok. I’ve got a couple of hours. Let’s give this a whirl.” He was fastening the buckle of the ball gag behind my head as he pushed me back into my bedroom. He pulled it into my mouth much further than I did earlier. I was helpless. 

He pushed me back into the corner of my room. We were a few feet apart. He was just staring at me. I didn’t know what to do. Shit, he was rubbing his crotch!

“Well, get your fucking clothes off, bitch.” What was I going to do? I’d been caught red handed. I was guilty. He was the Judge and executioner. And I was going to get fucked.

I shyly pulled my T-shirt over my head. He scoffed at the cute bra. 

“So you’re a real sissy bitch, are you?”

My face was flushed. I was ready to cry. 

“Keep going. I said I have a couple hours. but I don’t have all day.”

I slowly unbuttoned my shorts and let them fall to the floor around my ankles. My panties were wet from earlier. I was so fucking humiliated.

He muttered something. When I looked up, he was pulling the belt from his jeans. 

He was a big guy, and I wasn’t. His belt fit around me pinning my arms to my sides. He buckled it tight. He was right on me. Licking my cheek, whispering in my ear. I tried to speak, but the gag I’d purchased just the day before, did a fine job of silencing me.

“I’ve looked at you before. I’ve always wondered if I’d ever have a chance to fuck you like a bitch. Well, now you made it clear you want it too. You just be a good little cock slut, and I’ll do the rest.”

Suddenly I was on my back on the bed. He was naked and climbing all over me. His mouth was covering mine with the ball between our mouths. He was grabbing my tits and reaching into my panties. His hand was up between my ass cheeks.. He was pulling my hair. It seemed like he had 4 or 5 hands going at the same time. He was all over me. 

He mounted me letting his hard cock fall between my bra cups. Looking down at me, with his cock in his hand, he said he really didn’t like me. But he was going to enjoy cumming all over me. 

He held my head still with one hand while he jerked off in my face. Before he left, he took some pictures of me with his jizz all over the gag, my face and in my hair. He told me this way he would have a pretty good chance of coming back for more. 

“Next time you’re going to suck it out of me, bitch.” 

Just for fun

 He wasn’t successful lately and he hooked up no more girls.

-Dad, Liam, I’m sorry your relationship with Rachel has come to an end. I hope you soon find a new girl, but if you don’t… well, I can give you all kinds of fun, Liam and I mean it.

-Thanks, Ames, but you’re not to blame if I’m unable to date any other girl. You don’t have to give me sex, even if I know that you also have fun.

-That’s it, Liam, since we both enjoy, let’s do it just for fun.

But he just told me he would think about it and we left it there.

But a week later, I saw he was sitting on the couch totally hard again and I thought I really wanted to have sex with him again, and unexpectedly, I just pulled down my pants and told him.

-Fuck me, Liam. I know you want and if truth be told, I also desire it. Come on, man, do it.

-Ok, Ames, I want to do it, but let it not be a cold act. We can do it naked. Let’s first strip, what do you think?

I thought it was a wonderful idea. It would be the first time I would see that sexy man, Liam Askew, with no clothes and I did want to see him naked. So instead of answering I started by removing my T-shirt and then I was lucky to see him also taking it all off. I had already seen his hot dick but now with nothing on, it was doubly sexy and what hot balls! Finally I was also stark naked as the day I was born and sat on the couch and told him.

-Come on, Liam, this time I want you to fuck me in this position, sitting on the couch; I wanna be looking into your eyes and want to touch you and kiss you.

-Ok, Ames, since you’re asking me, I will do it.

But instead of sticking his dick into my waiting ass, I was stunned when I noticed he had pulled down his ass and was driving my cock in.

-Yeah, my sexy son, you’re fucking me. Go on and never stop now.

-Liam, are you sure? I needn’t fuck you. I love your fucking me.

-I loved the day I fucked your ass, Ames, and I still tremble when I remember what wonderful fun it was and sincerely since that day, I’ve desired to do it over and over again. But understand me, Ames, either we do it to each other and you can also experience the funs of fucking your father or of getting blowjobs from him, or we won’t ever do it again. So you choose but my sincere desire is to constantly have sex with you.

-That’s also what I want, Liam -it was so hot to have a conversation with my father as I was fucking him. He never showed pain. It was so clear to him that we could only have sex with each other if it was give and take, that he was feeling some pain, but he managed to hide it, I would only know that night at dinner, but he sincerely wanted to fuck me again and first it had to be his turn to be fucked, that was clear. But after about four minutes I noticed him moaning, so I guessed he was having fun now.

-I’m glad of the decision I’ve taken, Ames. Now if you want, we can constantly fuck each other, as often as you want and just for fun, just for our fun, it needn’t be cause we need to hook up a girl.

-Thank you for this, Liam -I said already bathing his cool ass for the first time. Now the time came for us to kiss each other fondly for minutes and our hands kept on experiencing the fun of groping everything in our bodies, something we’d also done as I was fucking him.

But just after three minutes of this hot foreplay, I took my dick from his ass and almost shouted.

-Come on, Liam, now it has to be you that fucks me. You don’t know how I’ve been looking forward to your fucking me again since that day when you dared do it to me. So finally, my sexy father, fuck me in the ass again.

He took no time and quickly drove his penis in. It was the second time he fucked me and I even liked it more for now it had started to be a habit, as I wanted.

-Now we can fuck whenever we want, Ames, since we both desire it. You see? I had to give you my ass too, so that it were not a soulless act. Now it can be give and take. I love sex with my sexy son and this way we can have sex as often as we both want.

Those were the right words I needed to hear. His cock in my ass was the only tool I wanted now. I instantly forgot all my heterosexual experiences so far. Sex with your own father is so unusual but it’s oh so hot that nothing can surpass it. I was moaning more loudly than ever, all the time repeating.

-Yeah, Liam, possess this ass of mine. Fuck me many times, please; I love it.

-I cannot be insensitive to what my son is asking me. Long it is since I suspected that you liked sex with your father so much that unless we constantly make love, I’d be unfair with you.

And now he covered me in kisses, more passionately than real lovers do. We were not in love but we were signing a deal to be always lovers after now. When he was about to cum, he also told me that he didn’t necessarily have to look for girls now. He was more than willing to only have sex with me.

And after those words I felt a jet of warm fatherly semen and a stream of saliva filled my mouth as he kissed me intensely when cumming.

-So now, Ames, we’re gonna have sex with each other as often as we want just for fun, is it ok?

-You’re a wonderful person, Liam Askew and that’s what I want for I can well see that I’m not hurting you and you also desire it.

-Let’s have a coffee now and when we’ve recovered, we’ll give each other a blowjob, yes -he added looking into my eyes and seeing I was dubious-, I will also suck your cock -and I saw him then about to put his clothes back on.

-Liam, do you find it necessary to get dressed now? After all, we’ve just fucked each other and we’re about to suck each other’s cocks.

-You’re right, Ames. Let’s have a coffee in our nudity.

It was an arousing time that we had when we talked to make sure how correct all of this was, how we both desired each other and after now, no need to hide it. I also complimented him about his sexy naked body, assuring him how often I desired watching him in no clothes. He smiled at me and told me similar words. Once my coffee was almost over and seeing me rock hard, he uttered no words, but bent his body and took my dick in his mouth, determined to give me his first blowjob.

-Oh my, Ames, I knew I also wanted to do it to you cause this is justice. But I swear I was not prepared to find it such a wonderful taste. The flavour is so magnificent that I’d like to give after now at least three blowjobs a day, if your hot dick can resist, cause I also want you to often fuck me, at least once a day.

-What do you like most, Liam?

-Sucking your cock.

-Then you’re right that we will give each other at least two blowjobs each a day, or three if your also hot dick can resist.

-How I love you, Ames. No, I don’t mean I’m in love with you. What I mean is that is so good to have such a wonderful son, so open-minded and so sexy, a son I can and want to have sex with every day and he needs what I need.

-I’m cumming, Liam.

I had told him in case he wanted to withdraw his mouth from my dick but he never did. He swallowed every drop and praised the taste later, telling me he’d had to do great efforts not to cum, but he’d managed cause he was sure I wanted to gift him a new blowjob next.

-Of course, Liam. Now it’s your turn. And now it’s also my turn to at last do something I was crazy with lust to do again.

And finally there I was again, doing what I’d really wanted to do for days. I felt like a baby who has recovered his dummy after a tantrum and finally gets his reward. I wanted to exhaust that heavenly taste; I wanted… well, I just wanted Liam’s dick and nothing but his dick, several times a day.

-Liam, hope that after now you never say no whenever I want to give you a blowjob, for what I really want is spending most of my life with your cock in my mouth.

-I’ll never say no again, Ames, since I’m sure now we both desire the same. So almost sure that we’re not in love, we could even become a couple. It’s impossible that ever again I can find somebody with whom I wanna have sex more than with you, and I think that’s also what you’re feeling, isn’t it?

-Yes Liam, we needn’t be in love but I wanna be your boyfriend.

-Me too, Ames, so after today we’ll sleep together as couples do, naked whenever it’s not too cold, having sex in bed… and also during the day, of course, giving each other blowjobs, fucking each other and so on. Would you like that, Ames?

-I want that, I want you and only you.

-So this new fountain goes into your mouth right now as if you were taking communion, as a new deal for each other. We’re a couple now, Ames -and he came just then, bathing me both in semen and in happiness.

And thus we started to be an unconventional couple, unconventional not only because we’re a father and a son but also because we’re not in love yet. Never again did I have to tell him to call me when he needed me, for now it’s both of us that need each other and always care for each other’s needs. I love all kinds of sex with that hot man, Liam Askew and I’m always crazy with lust when I notice he wants to enter me.

I’d not been fisted in almost six weeks since my session with the Fistologist. The need builds over time, at least for me. Soon after a couple of weeks of recovery both physically and mentally, it starts with an occasional thought for about a week and after a slow burn, escalates to an obsession and absolute craving to have my hole gaped and punched into oblivion.

When the need crests to this point, all good sense goes out the window . All that matters is taking care of my hole. So, in order to scratch the itch, I took to Asspig and began chatting with a guy I’d been lusting after for a couple of years. Our schedules kept us from playing sooner.

Will was a tall Black man of 6’3”, 210, former college football player, short cropped black hair, 43 years old. His cock was a proud 8”er. I know because he sent me quite a few dick pics and some video of him battering a few white asses.  He had a husky frame, hair on his chest, and a very neat and short goatee. It was his devious smile that drew me to him more than anything. Well, that and he’d been fisting asses for 15 years and from what I saw in his profile and subsequently in videos, he was quite adept at blowing out willing holes.

The sun, moon, and stars seemed to align that night and we were finally going to meet. I made sure to do a deep cleaning for our session. I was ready for some wild uninhibited fisting fun. I bought a couple of bottles of fresh poppers, spray poppers, had some large toys, a gas mask, and other accessories to facilitate our parTy.

I’d taken a couple of gummies while I was opening my hole at home and decided to take a small booty bump before taking a ride share to his place.

When I arrived about 20 minutes later, Will answered the door in his dark blue Hanes boxer briefs. It was, after all, almost 2 in the morning. My hole was already humming just from seeing the star of many of my fisting fantasies up close and personal. He was even more good looking in person.

He pulled me inside and we hugged and made out. I was already floating and Will sensed it.

We went to his bedroom and I stripped down to my red NastyPig jock and red knee socks that read “bottom” on them.

Will lit his pipe and we blew clouds. At first, onto the air, but then into each other’s mouths. Oh fuck, I was swirling and feeling out of this world. Will had me get on my back and raised my hole upward and he blew clouds into it a couple of times which made my pussy tingle.

I had taken out all my toys, lube, etc., and spread them on the bed before we lit the pipe. Will opened my fresh jar of Elbow Grease and rubbed it all over his hand half way up his forearm. I took a hit of Amyl and holy crap my cunt was fucking hungry. Will showed me his closed fist.

“You want this, pig?”

“Yes, please!”, I was desperate for it.

Will pushed his closed fist right up my ditch past his wrist to the lube line.

“Ohhhh yess!”, I hissed.

Will pulled his fist back all the way out and then entered with his other fist going just as deep. My cunt offered zero resistance.

I huffed more poppers and fed some to Will. The rush inspired him to blow out my hole fisting me like my hole was his personal punching bag, left, right, left, right, left, right, a series of maybe 20-30 quick hard jabs my cunt quickly gaping and my pussy lips getting puffy and swollen. Will finished the opening series with his right forearm sawing in and out now up to the fattest part of his forearm right below his elbow. I was moaning in a high pitch that I only seem to reach when I’m out of my mind. It was deep and making my eyes roll in the back of my head.

Will pulled his forearm out and my rosebud appeared.

Will leaned in to taste it with his mouth and I nearly died from the sensitivity of the nerve endings coming alive in the folds of my flower. His tongue was magical. Then Will circled my rosebud with his fingers. A quick reapplication of lube and another hit of poppers and Will was back inside burying my rosebud back inside with his right fist, the larger one, starting with that sawing motion and ending with another pussy wrecker punch out. I had an assgasm and my hole winked open and closed as it convulsed uncontrollably.

“More, give me more please!”

“You want more, piggy. Let’s get this cunt opened. Put on your mask.”

Still on my back, while Will lubed one of my larger toys. It was a very thick blue corkscrew shaped monster that I’d only taken once before when under the influence. I put the gas mask over my face and the effect was almost immediate. Strong fumes filled me as I held my legs up and felt the tip of that blue monster pry me open. Will twisted it left and right while applying a little pressure, and my cunt parted like the Red Sea. I felt so stretched open but begged for even more.

I pulled off the mask and cried out in absolute despair.

“Put your fist in my cunt, man! Punch it out!”

Will showed me his coated fist and wasted no time putting some fingers inside, wrapping them around the ridges of my toy, working his entire hand inside.

I threw my hands behind my head.

“Ohhhhh fuuckkk, yessss, that feels so fucking good. Stretch my pig cunt open, punch it out!”

“Fuck yeah! Will said, “I love a fucking punch pig!”

Will pulled his hand and my toy back and slammed back inside, each time pulling back further and punching in harder. It was delicious how he was making my pig cunt sing and beg for even more!

“Give me both fists!”

“You want me to put both my fists in you piggy?”

“Please, yes!” I was hankering for a double for weeks, and now I was finally gonna get it.

Will pulled the toy from my hole and threw it on the bed. He tossed me a rag and my Max Impact bottle then he really loaded up on the lube, inserting a bottle of X-Lube in my butt and coating his hands in grease.

“Go for it dude, take a sniff”, Will commanded.

I sprayed some on the rag and brought it to my nose. It was cold, but potent as fuck. I pulled my legs back and presented my hole.

Will placed his right fist inside me to his wrist, then his left fist right next to it. I was still riding the extreme high from the rag, and Will began a serious double punching that could have been posted to StudFist.com! It was epic. I breathed in a bit more from the rag as it was still wet and Will kept the ride going. The extreme blowout was breathtaking, exhilarating, and my hole was annihilated. I experienced a second assgasm, this one much more intense causing my jock to visibly stain, cum dribbling out my Viper cage.

“Holy fuck! You’re an animal! Fuck me!”

Will was sweating and needing a break. We took a little time to hydrate and while Will was resting his hands I lubed up his right foot and lowered my carnivorous cunt over his toes and descended it over them. In my intoxicated state, the feeling of his meaty size 13 foot was glorious.

I found my clover tit clamps somewhere in the collection of toys spread on the bed and Will reached over to put them on one at a time. Pulling and pinching my tits before feeling the bite of the clamps. I took a hit of BlueBoy and rode myself into a stupor of ecstasy, sinking almost halfway down that foot down to the lower part of Will’s ankle. I bounced feeling the chain linking the clamps bouncing along with me. Will pulled on the chain occasionally, too, stretching my nipples an inch away from my chest. I’ve got ultra sensitive nipples that can take a good torture, and they were on fire, adding to all of pleasure sensations.

When Will signaled he was ready for round two we lit the torch and did another round of clouds, sensuously blowing into each other’s mouths. I even blew some over Will’s fat cock a couple of times.

This round, I was on all 4’s. Will said he needed to fuck me. He lubed up his fists and his cock while I inhaled from the bottle. I did feel Will’s big Black dick enter my gaping pucker, but my cunt was so hollowed out it was nothing. After a good 10 minutes or so of Will’s hard cock penetrating my hole and his taking some video to add to his impressive collection, he slid a fist along side it. While leaving his cock imbedded up my hole, his fist began to saw in and out of my ass. I was squealing like an actual pig encouraging Will to go hard and deep, and he did, we were now elbow depth as I felt the bones of it pressing inside, still with his cock buried, too.

Will passed me my black hood and the poppers spray. Then he found my ball gag which has a set of alligator tit clamps attached. I put the hood on and everything was blacked out. The hood had nose and mouth holes. I opened my mouth and Will stuffed it with the large round ball and clasped the strap tightly behind my head. The fun part was next. Will reached under me and added the alligator teeth clamps right next to the clover clamps on each nipple. It was outrageous, but phenomenal! Every time I moved my head they tugged and pulled. I took another hit of spray and once again Will’s fist pushed through me like butter. Deprived of sight, I was really able to focus on touch, and it felt like Will was reaching into the depths of my soul. I saw all kinds of colorful shapes and sizes under my eyelids when he quickly inserted the second fist and pushed it downward to meet its pair. I took a second big sniff from the wet rag, drool flying down my chin, the forearm laying over the other one started to move back and forth, until it was a full on closed fist blowing out my hole. Then Will switched off, the upper forearm stationary while the lower one punched.

Another hit off the brown bottle and Will was inspired for a double barrel forearm destruction. It was deep and every blast of his fists punching through my cunt ring made me start to piss into my jock.

Will left his forearms half way up my cavernous cunt and pushed his cock in between them. Holy fuck I was stretched maybe the widest I’d ever been. Will jackhammered his cock causing the clamps to jump and pull and I saw stars. I was so high and flying and when Will emptied his balls up my ass I felt like a real dump, like swine, like a slut, and I loved it.

Will pulled his cock out and then one of his arms, but he replaced it with another one of my toys. It’s a giant yam shaped toy that is extra thick in the middle but so slick and smooth when coated with enough lube that it can easily slide in without much effort. Will fucked me with that giant toy until I assgasmrd a third time, more cum dribbling out my caged cock.

At this point it was nearly sunrise we’d been playing a little more than four hours, but Will said he was good to go another round.

So we took a break and hydrated. Will spent time twisting my nipples after we took off the clamps and the ball gag. It was wonderful torture the fine line between pleasure and pain clouded by all of the chemicals in my body. Will’s thumbnail and index finger squeezed down hard, pinching them. I was on my back with my hands clasped over my head watching Will’s face as he looked at mine, I took what he gave me.

“You want me to punch your nuts?”

“You into that?”, I asked.

“Hell yeah. Love to see my pigs beg me to destroy their balls. So fucking hot!”

Will pulled my jock off admiring the cage and asked me about it before his hand grabbed my loose sack and pulled them.

“Take a hit, pig!”

I did and Will surprised me with a sucker punch to my nuts. I howled but wanted him to do it again. I nodded my approval.

Will yanked my nuts again and then the other fist busted them twice in succession. Will let go letting me experience the ball pain/pleasure riding it out until he did it three more times.

Will pinched one of my nipples and punched my balls at the same time and I was screaming in beautiful agony.

Will knew I was ready for round three. I had a hunger in my eyes. I put the gas mask over my head after Will loaded me up with more X-lube and he dipped into the vat of grease to get both hands covered. The mask was working quickly I felt my hole open and shut.

I held my ankles back and Will pushed his closed fist right back inside. The other one grabbed and pulled on my balls, holding me in place. I flipped off the mask and Will’s fist began to fly so fast, working on that anal ring which used to be tight about six hours ago. Will’s knuckles felt incredible rapping every nerve ending in my cunt.

“Put the mask back on, cunt!”

I did, and Will’s other fist was back inside this time the double fisted blowout happening on my back where I could see everything. Will’s face looked deep in concentration almost maniacal as he gave me hard punches. I pushed the mask off my face and nodded, opening my hole wider for even more destruction. Will must have delivered 50-60 continuous blows before we both tapped out after a fourth assgasm and my prolapsed rosebud reappeared.

Will was done, it was 8am now and he invited me to stay and sleep. Only I was still buzzing. So we stuffed a toy up my ass to keep it happy and I began to blow Will’s cock. Will laid back with his hands propped over his head letting me suck his erection. His eyes were closed, but he was definitely enjoying it if the smile on his face was any indication. When I used a hand and mouth combination, and increased the tempo, I took Will to his second orgasm and greedily swallowed every drop.

I finally rested my head on Will’s chest as he stroked my face. The rhythm of his heartbeat lulled me to sleep.

It was about 4pm when we awoke. I pulled the toy out of my ass, collected my things and got a ride home.

This blowout was exactly what I wanted and needed. No doubt in 4-6 weeks, I’ll be wanting it again.

Making the Choice

I knew better than to tell the big doctor that my boss had fucked me in my office.

Dr. Dave and I had an agreement: no one else, we would be exclusive. Then my boss Dennis came in early to the office last Friday morning, and I didn’t resist.

Truth is, I wanted them both. Just like 10 years ago, when I was caught in the middle of two other older men: one a widowed firefighter, and the other a married steel worker. One thought that we were exclusive too. And when he found out, it didn’t go well. And I didn’t want that to happen again. That episode back then had driven me into the closet and forced me to keep my mouth shut. And here I am, still in the closet, keeping my mouth shut, trying to navigate a family and two alpha males.

I had spent as much time as I could last Saturday night with Dave, the very horny, and very married doctor. But I went back to reality and my own married home life, feeling rather guilty. Not just to my wife, but to Dave too, because I didn’t tell him that my boss had once again claimed his stake in me and was pressuring me to talk to him on Monday morning about what a future with him could be like. I had to make a decision.

The decision became obvious when I walked into work on Monday morning. I had just opened up my laptop when there was a knock on my door and my large boss stepped into my office, with someone I recognized.

“I believe you know Grant?” My boss Dennis Gibson’s smile was different this morning as he put his big paw on Grant’s shoulder. Grant, the jock from Max Semenov’s “club” whom I met in the dressing room when I had first met the “Doc” that night that Dave purchased me. Grant was now fully dressed in a form-fitting grey suit, looking like an athlete heading to the locker room for a big game, standing beside my large boss. Grant was just an inch or two taller than me, a bit bigger in the frame, but equally chiseled as I pictured him in a lot less the last time I saw him. He had given me advice at that club before I went out to be sold to the highest bidder, who happened to be Dr. David Fox.

Dennis’ hand squeezed Grant’s shoulder and glared at me, daring me to ask what he knew I was thinking. I was being replaced, if not here at work, then for sure in Dennis’ bed.

“Hey man!” Grant gave me a winning smile and sort of shrugged his shoulders like he couldn’t believe it either and held out his hand. “Dennis here said you could show me the ropes. I’m kind of pumped but nervous.”

I shook his hand, looking over at Dennis standing behind him with his hand still on Grant’s shoulder. I guess the conversation he wanted to have wasn’t happening after all. Like the big alpha male he was, he was calling the shots and not waiting for me to make any decisions.

“Nice to see you again. I take it you’re a new hire?” I glanced over his shoulder at Dennis who was still glaring at me.

“Yeah, I brought Grant in to fill an opening.” He slapped Grant’s shoulder and stepped around him, putting his hands into his tight pants pockets. “I remembered his skills and thought he’d fit right in here, so I reached out.”

Grant again looked at me with an incredulous smile. “He made an offer I couldn’t refuse.”

I wondered what that offer was, and what it entailed, but by the way Dennis was looking at me I had an idea.

“I asked Grant to get here nice and early so I could show him his office, and when that was done, you could help him out and show him around?” Dennis’ hand went to that shoulder again and pulled on Grant, who gave me a grin as he slowly backed up. “Grant will be in the office next door to yours.”

I frowned, thinking that office belonged to Sarah as Grant turned around and exited. Dennis paused at my door and gave me a quick, satisfied look and then disappeared down the hall behind Grant.

I could hear the office door beside mine opening, and the sound of their muffled voices. It wasn’t even 7am yet so I was surprised to see Dennis here again so early. Initially I thought he was here to talk with me, or perhaps more again, but the first sound of bumping against the wall connecting my office to Grant’s new one confirmed he wasn’t here to do anything with me.

I heard a grunt, and another bang, and I let out a deep sigh. I went closer to the wall, hearing now the sounds of Grant or Dennis doing something my imagination could only come up with. To make sure, I quietly left my office and went to the next door one to have a better look.

The door was closed, but the blind on the window had a sliver of an opening at the bottom. I crouched down and scanned the office, looking directly towards the wall in between our offices. And there they were, Grant pressed up against the wall, face forward, and Dennis’ muscled bare ass on display with his pants around the back of his knees, clenching those massive glutes as he fucked his new guy up against the wall between our offices.

I watched for a moment, my dick thickening quickly in my dress pants despite the anger I was feeling, seeing Grant’s smooth toned legs splayed open as wide as the pants around his ankles would let him. Dennis’ ass was a sight to see, his suit pants around the back of his massive legs, holding the smaller young jock in place. Grant’s hands were plastered on the wall as Dennis fucked him fast and hard, without mercy, slamming himself into Grant’s body. I was amazed that Grant could take a pounding like that. Grant’s head was down a bit, his cheek against the wall, Dennis’ hand on the back of his head holding his hair with one hand as his other held his own shirt tail up as his drove his hips against the jock against the wall between our offices. Dennis wanted me to hear it. He wanted me to know he no longer needed me. He had another slut at his disposal. One from the club. How fast he got him was an added nail in my coffin.

I went back to my office and was amazed at how clearly I could hear Grant panting against the wall. Thank God it didn’t last long, as it was early enough but others were likely to start coming in. I knew they were finished when I heard a deeper grunt and knew Dennis’ tell-tale sign of his orgasm. I sat quietly, waiting for one of them to come by. And as expected, it was Dennis who appeared first in my door.

“So how was your weekend?” He asked with a slight grin, and an obvious flush to his face.

“What the fuck is going on?” I shot back at his smug look.

He feigned innocence, giving me an open-mouthed shocked look and held up his hands. “What?”

I glared back at him. “C’mon! Grant?! What are you, marking your territory for me to hear so I know you’ve got a new toy to play with?”

Dennis couldn’t help but smile and shoved his hands in his pockets. I could tell his dick was still semi hard as outlined in his crotch, purposefully showing me. “Well, that could’ve been you this morning, but you’ve made your choice.”

“No, YOU made your choice.” I turned away from him and slumped down on my office chair. “You didn’t even give me the chance.”

“Alright then, you leaving your wife?” He glared at me.

I glared back but didn’t answer.

“See. I already figured. I gave you the chance when I called you. Stop kidding yourself and be who you are!”

“I am being who I am! I am being a father and a husband!” I shouted back, but Dennis came at me, spinning my chair around and grabbed me by the shoulders, lifting me straight up out of the chair.

“Be who YOU are! Not FOR others, but for YOURSELF!” He was inches from my face and my feet were almost off the ground. “Don’t you want to stop hiding?!” He was almost yelling at me, his face redder than before, and his eyes were searching into mine.

I kept my mouth closed afraid he was going to try something. Or afraid I was going to try something. He gave me a little shake as if that would elicit a response. Instead, he just sighed and loosened his grip on my arms and set me down firmly on my feet.

“I offered you a life.” He said quietly and let me go, stepping back.

I shook my head. “You offered me an ultimatum. I can’t leave my family.”

He looked just as hurt as he did last Friday when he left my office. I think this was his one last chance and I was blowing it again.

“Can’t we just keep doing what we’re doing? Can’t I have my wife and family and you?” I said softly.

Dennis looked up at me with that sadness in his eyes and slowly shook his head. “You did have us both. But I want more.” I watched his chest rise and fall with his deep intake of air and then sat his beefy ass on the edge of my desk. “I’m old Brian. I’ve been where you are. And I thought I found what I was looking for. I messed it up, and I’m sorry. But I have to be honest with you, I don’t want to share anymore. I don’t like being something on the side.”

I looked at the wall he just fucked another guy behind. “You think Grant’s gonna work for you then? He’s got a family too you know.”

Dennis’ eyes looked at the wall too. “I know. I’m not after Grant. I’ve fucked him enough to know he’s not what I want. He’s not that bright you know. I did that to get back at you.” He admitted quietly.

“It worked.” I said, sitting back down in my office chair. I looked at his quads barely contained under the thin material of his pants and wanted to touch him.

“Uh sorry to interrupt.” It was Grant, standing in my doorway observing the two of us at my desk, looking a tad bit more disheveled than earlier. “Where’s the washroom?” He looked at Dennis rather awkwardly.

Dennis got up and pointed down the hallway to the left. “Just go down this hallway and turn to the right. There’s a washroom at the end of that hallway on the left.”

I stared at Dennis’ backside, the way it curved away from his body, knowing how good it felt to hang on to that slab of flesh as he thrusted in me. I missed Dennis. I missed “us.” But I still had that with Dr. David Fox. Didn’t I? And the doctor wasn’t making me choose between him and my family. But the guilt at not telling my wife anything and not saying anything to Dave about Dennis was eating away at me this morning.

Dennis stayed at the door but looked back at me over his wide shoulder. “I’m sorry. Really. But I respect your decision. So…I hope you understand mine.” And with that he left, leaving me feeling even more guilty than yesterday when I pretended to my wife that all was fine.

It took me a moment before I moved, holding in the emotions I wouldn’t let out. This was all my fault.

I got up and closed my office door and picked up my cell phone to dial the good doctor. I needed to talk to him, to reassure myself that I was still thinking along the same lines as he was. He would be in his car by now, heading to the hospital.

He picked up on the second ring and I could hear the sounds of the car telling me I was right: he was driving to work.

“Hey sexy.” His deep voice purred over the sounds of the engine and movement. “Didn’t get enough on Saturday?”

I felt my body warming already. “No. Not nearly enough.”

He chuckled on the other end and I pictured his massive bodybuilder type frame behind the wheel of his SUV. “Want me to swing by and shove my load up your hole this morning?”

As tempting as it was, I didn’t want him to come by the office and encounter either Dennis or Grant, as he knew them both. I suddenly wondered if he too, like Dennis, had fucked Grant at some point in that club of Max Semenov.

“I wish you could, but I’m already at the office.” I heard myself saying.

He gave a low growl. “Well…I can if you really want it.” I heard him inhale and let out a long slow sigh as if he was thinking. “I’ll be driving right by your work in about 5 minutes.”

I could feel my heart pounding as I contemplated his offer. “Well…I’d love to see you right now.” I said honestly, resting my forehead on my hand as I leaned over my desk. “But there’s already people here.”

“I’m already hard just thinking about you.” Dave continued. “I can pick you up at the back door and fuck you in my car…” He was talking low, his voice an octave deeper suddenly, which always seemed to drive me wild, “…then send you back inside with my boys swimming around inside you.”

That got me, and I found myself sitting up straight. My anger over Dennis and Grant got the better of me and I agreed. “Okay. Do it.”

“Yeah?” his voice sounded almost breathy as I heard the turn signal in his SUV flick on. “You serious?”

“I am. I want you. Now.”

Dave gave another low quick grunt. “Fuck baby, I love it. ‘Kay. Get your hot little ass to the back door. I’ll be there in a couple minutes.”

He disconnected the call before either one of us could say anything more, and I found myself practically running to my office door. I stepped out into the hallway and nearly banged into Grant, returning from the washroom. I could feel the thickness of my dick in my pants and tried to hide my flustered appearance as best I could, stating that I had forgotten something in my car, and I’d be back in a minute. I was already dredging up some lie about running out to grab a coffee or something as I left Grant standing in his own new office door and I bolted down the hallway, and around the corner to the back door where the parking lot was.

I shoved my hands in my pockets, checking my watch to see it was now almost 7. I wondered what time Dave needed to be at the hospital, and hoping no one else would come to work to find me standing at the back door when I noticed Dave’s dark blue BMW SUV turn into the parking lot.

I stepped outside into the cool morning air and saw the vehicle make a sharp turn into the empty parking spots and head directly towards me. He pulled up fast, rolling down the window as he came to a quick stop, his grinning bearded face wide with pleasure already.

“Get in sexy.” He cooed, as he unlocked the doors and I hopped in.

My heart was racing as his large hand landed on my left thigh and he squeezed. I wanted to kiss him, and I could see he thought about it, lowering his head a bit to see who could be watching but instead he left his large hand on me and we pulled away just as fast.

“I saw a spot around the corner I think will work. How much time you got?” He asked, ducking and turning his head watching for cars as we pulled back out of the lot and headed left towards a bunch of office buildings.

“I got time. What about you?” I put my hand on his and he flipped his hand over to allow me to hold his hand. That simple gesture made me smile as I felt the warmth of his hand seep into mine.

“Not a lot really, but I’ll always make time for you.” He lifted my hand and brought it up to his lips and kissed the back of it, and then placed it on his crotch, making me feel how hard his cock was in his dress pants. “You got me fuckin’ boned already. But hope you don’t mind, it’s gotta be a fast one.”

I shifted in my seat and squeezed the rod I could feel and then leaned over and started to undo his belt buckle as he too shifted in his seat to prepare for me freeing his dick.

“Oh, you are a hungry boy this morning aren’t you?” He groaned, grabbing the steering wheel with both hands and continuing to drive.

I was, and as fast as I could, I freed that meaty cock of his. I leaned right over, wiggling out of the seat belt and breathed in the fresh showered scent of him, pulling his cock out straight up and dove down onto it. I groaned as I swallowed his hardening tool, picturing Dennis fucking Grant only a few minutes ago, and listened to the sounds of the giant doctor moaning in pleasure as I sucked his cock back as he drove.

Before I knew it, we had stopped, and the BMW was turned off. Dave grabbed my chin and lifted my face to his for a hungry kiss, our mouths moving like we hadn’t seen each other in weeks.

“Get your pants off.” He panted in between our tongues dancing, and I was already ahead of him, kneeling on the passenger seat and pushing everything down. I felt his hand find my cock and he tugged on it as I wrestled uncomfortably around, trying to keep kissing him as I kicked off shoes and pushed my pants to my knees.

I broke off and spun around, sitting down to free my pants and underwear as I saw Dave lift his big body up and shove his own pants and underwear down his big legs, sitting bare assed on the seat, grabbing his cock and stroking it as he watched me. He hit a button on the side and his seat slid back, then tilted backwards a bit before he slicked his big tool with more spit.

Still wearing my shirt and tie and socks, I climbed over to him, staring into his grey eyes as I grabbed his 8 and a half inch cock and moved over him. Our mouths found each other again and we kissed furiously, swallowing excess spit as our tongues filled each other. I couldn’t wait to feel him inside me, as I held his big cock up at my hole. I went too fast and felt the burning stretch overcome me, making me moan out in his mouth as his big hands grabbed my ass.

“Easy baby. Slow down.” He purred into me, my eyes opening a bit to see his open wide, and staring at me. He held me in his hands, holding my ass up as I adjusted to him, my knees up around his chest as my socked feet were planted on either side of his bare legs.

He reached under me with one hand applying a bit more spit and then helped me try again. I closed my eyes, picturing Dennis glaring at me in my office and I felt the head pop inside me again, this time without any pain. A hand went up under my shirt and I shivered at the light touch of this beast of a man.

I put a hand onto the trimmed beard, feeling the bristles on his face as he smiled at me, watching his lips part slightly as he felt himself sliding into me. I saw Dave’s eyes close slightly as he became overwhelmed at the sensation, and his hot breath was on my cheek.

“Fuck baby, you always feel so good.” He whispered as I felt my body lowering, taking in every inch of this muscled doctor.

And then my ass connected with his big, bare thighs, and I wriggled onto him, grabbing the back of his neck with one hand and the knot of his tie in my other as his big hands found their place around my ass. Our lips crashed together again as he started to fuck me, our eyes closed, my hand on his neck holding on as we moved together.

He felt incredible, and I didn’t care where we were, or if we would get caught. I wanted him. And the way he was groaning and ramming his cock up into me, I knew he wanted me just as much.

Fuck Dennis and his new boy toy. Fuck leaving my family. Fuck the world and the way I was brought up. I wanted Dr. David Fox. And right now, I was going to let him fuck the living shit out of me.

I leaned back letting out a giant roar and hissed through my teeth as I started to ride him. Dave let out an equal surprised growl as his fingers dug into my ass and he bounced me up and down even faster.

“FUCK YEAH BOY!” He growled at me, smiling at me, watching me. “Ride my fucking cock!”

I let the feelings take over, closing my eyes and stared up at the roof of his BMW as I felt his cock punching my insides. His hands left me and he pulled at his tie and tossed it to the side and unbuttoned his shirt, whipping it open wide to reveal this massive chest and nipples as I continued to bounce on his fat cock. My hands went to the fur, feeling his muscles as my hard cock bounced on his hairy abs.

“Cum on my chest.” He panted out as he gripped my ass again. “When you’re ready, cum on my chest!”

I could feel myself gearing up for an explosion, and the way I was no riding him, he had no control over his own orgasm. “You cum in me first.” I managed to get out as I watched his face.

He pressed his lips together and his brows furrowed in sudden concentration. “I’m ready to blow baby. Let me fuck yours out of you.” He squeezed my ass hard and made me ride him faster, moving my ass on his cock with a new fury.

I grabbed my own dick and grabbed one of his giant pecs for support, and started to jerk out my rising orgasm.

“Oh fuck Brian. I’m gonna fucking EXPLODE inside you!” He grunted, pressing his back into the seat of his car and squeezing me harder.

“Fuck Dave yes! Do it!” I gritted my teeth and let him take over, pounding up into my ass as I felt my body shaking. And as he let out a sudden grunt, I too let one escape my mouth and I watched the first rope of my cum shoot straight up the middle of his hairy pecs to his neck as he blasted his first batch into me.

I slammed my ass down on his hard legs again and watched the second stream escape into a smaller line over his abs as he bucked another juice filled splatter into me. Three, four, five more eruptions later, my cum was perfectly plastered on his bare skin as I squeezed my ass around his shaft to make sure nothing was leaking out of me.

He pushed himself far into me, holding me still, balls deep into me as I held my own rod and squeezed out the last drop onto his navel. He looked down at his pecs and the pool of my thick white cum dribbling down his abs before he looked up at me.

And before he said anything, I found myself leaning over his body and licking up the droplets of my own cum off his chest. He let out a huge moan and kept my ass locked around his cock, watching me taste my own load off his hairy chest, until his lips found mine and I was feeding him my own cum in a moaning, spit swapping manner.

Like a pro, he suddenly opened the driver door and spun me sideways with me still attached to his cock, swinging his legs sideways, trapped in his pants, until I was half out the door. He sat up and leaned around me, pushing his pants down to his ankles.

“Careful now. I don’t want any cum stains on my pants.” He giggled, leaning over with me until I could plant a leg behind me and I carefully stood up on the side rung of the car and stepped out, half naked, from his car, making sure not to leave any traces of our actions behind.

I took in the sight of his massive legs, the top of his black socks around his thick ankles, his pants bunched up around his big calves, his dress shirt open and the tie askew sideways on his neck. He leaned backwards and grabbed a wad of tissues from the glove compartment and wiped his still thick cock before he matted down the areas of wet cum on his chest as I stood behind the open car door, looking around the dark and empty parking lot of some office building. He threw the used tissue sideways onto the ground and pulled at his pants, hoisting them up his huge legs as he nodded for me to get back inside.

I climbed over him rather than go around the vehicle in my half nude state, feeling his hands on me assisting, my bare legs moving over him to the passenger seat where I found my pants and started to dress. Dave closed the door and started to do up his shirt, fixing his tie and then shoving himself back into his underwear and pants as I did the same.

I sat back and looked at him, his grey eyes finding mine after making sure he looked okay, and then that giant hand fell to my leg again. I let my hand rest on top of his again and he smiled at me, suddenly quiet. Like a little boy, he put his cheek to the side of his seat and just smiled wider at me, staring back at me.

“What?” I suddenly asked, feeling my own smile taking over. This man was handsome, and I had forgotten all about Dennis Gibson.

He closed his eyes briefly and shook his head. “Nothing.” He said finally, opening those grey eyes again and continued to smile at me. Then he took my hand in his and brought it up to his mouth again, like he did initially and kissed it, before turning it over and clasping it. We sat there for a few seconds holding hands, letting our breathing return to normal, sitting there taking in each other in.

“I wish we could start every day like this.” He suddenly said softly.

I let out a laugh. “I’m not a fan of car sex though.”

He gave a puff of air through his nose and squeezed my hand tighter. “No. Me either. I’m too big for car sex.” He wiggled in his seat and I felt his thumb gently caressing my hand. “I’d rather start the day off naked with you, in bed, making love every day.”

I felt the smile dwindle, as I pictured that scene. Truth be told, that’s what I truly wanted too. I remembered those days with Joe, and how perfect it felt. How I felt safe, and normal, and ME.

“Do you think about that?” Dave asked me quietly, his thumb still moving over my hand.

I swallowed, tasting my own jizz still, and looked into his eyes. “I’d be lying if I said no.”

Dave lifted his head off his seat and I could see him too swallowing. “I’ve been thinking a lot about it lately.”

I didn’t say anything. Initially, Dave had said he wasn’t going to fall in love with me, or ruin anything with his family. And then recently he had spilled to me in passing that he wasn’t ready to fall for anyone ever again.

Dave sat up and pulled his hand free from mine and started the car, but made no move to leave just yet. Instead he looked forward, putting his hands between his legs on the seat and stared forward. “You know, my wife and kids are going away for a week to Florida. I can’t go cause I’m on call. And I was thinking maybe you could come over and spend a few days with me, you know…” He turned sideways to look at me, “maybe you could plan a ‘work trip’ or something, and we could just…be together. To see what it’d be like.” He looked down, avoiding my eyes, and he licked his lips nervously.

“Could you get time off?” I asked quietly.

He lifted his head up and his eyes widened. “Of course. I could easily get another doctor to cover for me for a day or two if you’d be able to slip away.” He smiled wider, showing me his teeth. “Just us, for a couple days, in my house. You think you could swing it?” He put a hand over the wheel and let it dangle, leaning forward to me a bit, his bicep large in his shirt.

I nodded. “Yeah. I think I could.” But as I said it, I was starting to feel all sorts of things. Guilt. Desire. Longing.

Excitement.

Maybe this was the right choice?

Fuck Dennis. The only Sir I needed was my muscle beast of a doctor after all.

This is my first full length story, so I hope you enjoy it! Please email me ([email protected]) any feedback. Enjoy!

All characters are entirely fictional besides Byron, whom has given me his express permission to include later in the book. Please follow him on Instagram (@byronrosekelly)!

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Thursday Rituals

The Chapel had the kind of atmosphere that made people feel comfortable the moment they walked through its heavy oak doors, a rare establishment that balanced modern convenience with timeless charm. A contemporary bar with olde-worlde character, it boasted warm wooden floors worn smooth by decades of footsteps, exposed ceiling beams that spoke of sturdy craftsmanship, and dim lighting that cast a honeyed glow across the space, making everyone look slightly better than they did in the unforgiving light of day. The air carried a rich blend of scents—polished oak, the yeasty tang of good beer, and the mouth-watering aroma of sizzling food drifting from the kitchen’s swinging doors. Though not packed to capacity on this Thursday evening, the place hummed with the steady buzz of conversation, punctuated by occasional laughter and the gentle clinking of glasses, all underscored by low music playing through hidden speakers.

Harry Schett stood at the bar, one strong hand wrapped around a pint glass, leaning against the polished wooden surface with the kind of effortless confidence that couldn’t be manufactured or practiced. His mere presence seemed to alter the dynamic of the room, pulling attention toward him like planets orbiting a particularly magnificent sun.

The skin-tight black T-shirt he wore, accented with bright red detailing along the seams, clung to his torso with almost desperate determination, the fabric stretched to its absolute limit across his massive pecs and biceps. Each movement, no matter how slight, caused the material to shift and readjust, highlighting every deeply cut muscle beneath as though the shirt were eager to showcase its contents. It was deliberately one size too small—an intentional choice by a man who understood the power of presentation. Harry didn’t just want to be seen; he craved it, crafted it, cultivated it with each carefully selected garment. His jeans were no less provocative, hugging his thick, tree-trunk legs and substantial glutes with devoted attention, the denim pulled so tight across his lower half that the sturdy fabric seemed perpetually on the verge of surrender. As he leaned his elbow on the bar, his stance naturally accentuated his physique, his lower body pushed slightly outward, the impressive curve undeniable beneath the stretched material.

And Mags, the sharp-eyed landlady who had seen every type of customer imaginable during her decades of pub management, was—as always—fixated on Harry’s chest. The middle-aged woman with her practical, cropped silver hair and no-nonsense demeanor was wiping a glass with slow, deliberate strokes, but her gaze barely lifted from the expanse of Harry’s pecs, like they possessed some magnetic quality that commanded attention. Her eyes traced the dramatic shelf they created, the deep separation between them visible even through the strained fabric.

“Alright, Mags?” Harry asked with a knowing smirk, raising his pint slightly in casual greeting. He was accustomed to her frankly appreciative gaze, had come to expect it as part of his Thursday ritual.

She exhaled with theatrical resignation, shaking her head as though confronted with something slightly unfair. “I don’t know how you even fit in shirts anymore, love,” she said, her voice carrying the rough edges of someone who’d seen too much to be easily impressed, yet found herself impressed nonetheless.

Harry chuckled, taking a long sip of his beer, leaving a slight foam mustache that he wiped away with the back of his hand. “I think you’re just jealous, Mags,” he responded with playful accusation. “I’ve told the lads, I reckon you’re a lesbian—mad for a pair of big pecs.” The teasing held no malice, just the comfortable banter of people who’d established their own peculiar friendship.

Mags snorted, the sound somehow both derisive and affectionate. “You wish,” she retorted, giving him a playful slap on his massive arm that would have staggered a smaller man but didn’t even register as physical contact to Harry. Her eyes lingered a little too long on his physique before she turned away with practiced nonchalance, busying herself with stacking some freshly washed glasses behind the bar.

As Harry shifted his weight, adjusting his position against the bar to better accommodate his substantial frame, the student barman—covering shifts during his spring break from university—brushed past him again, moving within the narrow space behind the bar. It was the third such “accidental” contact in the twenty minutes since Harry had arrived.

The lad—a short, slim young man standing about 5’5″ with an average build that seemed particularly unremarkable in Harry’s presence—wore a name badge that read ‘Ethan’ and moved with what he clearly believed was subtlety. Every time he walked past, his hand just barely skimmed the curve of Harry’s lower half, a touch so light and fleeting that it could be dismissed as accidental in the confined space. Yet there was an undeniable deliberateness to each contact, a calculated trajectory that betrayed intention rather than chance. And Harry, far from discouraging these attentions, responded by widening his stance slightly each time, pushing back almost imperceptibly into the contact, offering silent encouragement.

The game between them remained unspoken but mutually understood. Harry said nothing about these increasingly bold touches, maintained his conversation with Mags without missing a beat, while Ethan continued his charade of innocence, believing his admiration remained his secret alone.

The heavy door swung open with a gust of evening air, the hinges creaking slightly as Max Schett entered the pub with the commanding presence of a general inspecting his troops. He was impossible to miss, even in a room already containing his physically impressive son. The white short-sleeve shirt he wore, crisply pressed and tucked with military precision into dark grey shorts, created a striking contrast against his tanned skin. The brown leather belt cinched at his narrow waist perfectly balanced the ensemble, its rich color complementing the smooth, unblemished fabric that stretched across his broad frame. His pecs, massive by any standard, stretched the shirt just enough to hint at their impressive size without straining indecently, the fit so meticulous it suggested custom tailoring.

But it was his lower half that truly captured attention once the initial impact of his entrance had registered. The seams of his skin-tight shorts visibly strained under the pressure of containing his development, the sheer mass of his glutes creating a silhouette that drew the eye regardless of one’s preferences. Nothing about this presentation was accidental or unconsidered. Max chose clothes that fit this way by design, each garment selected to frame, enhance, and emphasize his physical attributes without crossing into vulgarity.

His gaze swept the room with practiced efficiency before landing on Harry at the bar. He moved toward his son with purposeful strides, each step causing the thick muscle of his thighs to press against each other in a rhythm that seemed to command the very floor beneath him.

Harry turned at his approach, a genuine grin spreading across his face. “Alright, old man?” he greeted, the familial resemblance between them unmistakable despite the two decades that separated them—the same sharp jawline, the same striking blue eyes, the same platinum blonde hair, though Max wore his styled back with sophisticated simplicity while Harry’s had the artful tousle of youthful indifference.

Max pulled him in for a brief but firm hug, the kind of physical affection between men who are comfortable in their masculinity, patting his back with genuine affection before stepping back to appraise him with critical eyes. “Jesus, you’re getting bigger every week,” he observed, his gaze lingering on Harry’s chest with a mixture of pride and professional assessment. “You sure you’ve not had implants put in?”

Harry smirked, reaching out to prod one of Max’s even larger pecs with teasing familiarity. “Dunno, you tell me,” he countered. “You’re still the biggest pair in the room.” The competitive undercurrent between them was good-natured but unmistakable, the push and pull of two men who measured themselves against each other even while sharing genuine affection.

Max chuckled, shaking his head at the familiar banter. “One pint, then food?” he suggested, already settling into their weekly routine.

“Sorted,” Harry agreed with simple finality.

Mags had disappeared into the back room, likely checking on kitchen orders, leaving only Ethan behind the bar to attend to customers. Max turned to him, unaware of the charged dynamic that had been playing out between the barman and his son. “Alright, mate? Pint of lager, please,” he requested, his tone polite but carrying the natural authority of a man accustomed to being obeyed.

Ethan nodded quickly, his head bobbing with almost puppyish eagerness. “Right away,” he managed, darting behind the beer pumps with unusual haste. His eyes flickered between Max and Harry, taking in the magnificent father-son duo with barely concealed fascination, his composure clearly affected by the double impact of their presence.

He tried to focus on the simple task of pulling a pint, something he’d done hundreds of times in the weeks he’d worked at The Chapel, but his hands betrayed him, shaking slightly as he positioned the glass. He pulled the tap with too much force, sending beer rushing into the glass at a rate that quickly created excessive foam. The glass overflowed before he could correct his error, beer spilling over his fingers and splashing onto the rubber mat below. His face flushed a deep crimson as he hurriedly wiped his hands on his apron, his breath audibly unsteady as he placed the imperfectly poured drink on the bar.

“Shit, uh—sorry,” he mumbled, clearly mortified by his uncharacteristic clumsiness.

Max took out his wallet with unhurried movements, seemingly unbothered by the bartender’s nervousness. He watched with patient tolerance as Ethan fumbled the change, coins slipping through trembling fingers before being hastily gathered and passed over.

Max said nothing about the obvious discomfort, simply nodded his thanks and took his drink, the epitome of unflappable composure.

Harry, however, was grinning widely, having observed the entire interaction with knowing amusement, filing away each detail of Ethan’s flustered behavior for later discussion.

They took a table near the window, settling into comfortable wooden chairs that creaked slightly under their substantial weight. The warm glow from the streetlights outside cast long, atmospheric shadows across the worn wooden floor, creating pockets of intimacy in the already cozy space.

Harry took a long sip of his pint before setting it down with deliberate care, his smirk impossible to contain any longer. “Mate, I think the kid fancies you,” he declared, leaning forward slightly as if sharing classified information.

Max raised a single eyebrow, the expression somehow conveying both skepticism and surprise simultaneously. “What?” he asked, genuinely caught off guard by the suggestion.

Harry leaned back in his chair, the wood groaning slightly in protest as his weight shifted, his pecs pushing prominently against his shirt as he rolled his shoulders. “That was a serious performance of flustered,” he explained with the confidence of someone who recognized the signs. “Overfilled your pint, hands shaking like he was defusing a bomb… bet he’s in the back now having a meltdown over it.”

Max shook his head dismissively, taking a measured sip of his imperfectly poured beer. “He was just nervous,” he countered, unwilling to consider the alternative. “Probably new to the job.”

Harry took another drink, still grinning behind the rim of his glass. “Nervous, sure. Or just really, really into you,” he insisted with brotherly teasing. “Christ, he spilled more liquid over himself than you did that time in Marbella.” The reference to some shared memory hung between them, clearly significant though unexplained.

Max sighed, a sound of exasperated affection. “Jesus, Harry,” he muttered, neither confirming nor denying the comparison.

Harry laughed, a rich sound that turned a few heads in their direction, but let the subject drop for the moment, allowing the conversation to drift toward more neutral territory.

A while later, as they discussed the latest local sports results with the comfortable familiarity of a long-established ritual, Ethan approached their table. He balanced a tray with their food order—a pasta dish for each of them, accompanied by a small ceramic jug of cheese sauce. His approach was cautious, almost reverent, as though bearing offerings to particularly demanding deities.

“Here you go, gents,” he announced, his voice steadier now that he’d had time to compose himself. He placed their meals before them with careful precision. “Want me to pour the sauce?” he offered, gesturing to the jug with a helpfulness that bordered on eagerness to please.

Max nodded, his attention more on the steaming pasta than on the server. “Yeah, go on,” he agreed casually, unaware of the minor disaster about to unfold.

The moment Ethan tipped the jug to pour, catastrophe struck with the kind of perfect timing usually reserved for cinematic comedy. His hand, steady until that crucial moment, seemed to develop a sudden tremor. A thick stream of creamy white sauce slid straight down the front of Max’s pristine shirt, splattering across his magnificent chest in a spreading stain that immediately began soaking into the fabric.

Ethan froze in horror, the jug still tilted at a dangerous angle, his face a mask of pure mortification. “Oh, fuck—sorry, I—” Words failed him as he stared at the spreading mess, his complexion alternating between deathly pale and feverishly flushed.

Max exhaled slowly through his nose, a controlled release of breath that spoke volumes about his self-restraint. He tilted his head down to assess the damage, taking in the substantial white stain spreading across his shirt with the calm resignation of someone who had learned that some situations simply must be endured.

Ethan was frantic, already scrambling backward, nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste. “I’ll—just a second—” he stammered, practically running toward the bar to retrieve something to address the mess he’d created.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Harry burst out laughing, the sound erupting from him with such force that it drew attention from nearby tables. “Knew it!” he exclaimed triumphantly, slapping the table with enough force to make the cutlery jump. “Knew he fancied you. That was on purpose, clear as day.”

Max rolled his eyes, dabbing ineffectually at the spreading stain with his paper napkin. “Christ, Harry. It was an accident,” he insisted, though a hint of doubt had crept into his voice. “These things happen.”

Harry leaned forward across the table, his grin wolfish and knowing. “Mate. He’s in love,” he declared with absolute certainty. “I’ve seen fewer nervous spills in amateur porn.” The comparison hung in the air between them, outrageous yet somehow fitting.

Max shot him a warning look that contained more amusement than actual reproach, but before he could formulate a suitable response, Ethan returned, clutching a clean cloth in his trembling hands. With a mixture of professional obligation and obvious fascination, he began dabbing at Max’s chest, his movements simultaneously apologetic and reverential.

The fabric of the shirt, already fitted to Max’s impressive dimensions, was soaked instantly by the combination of sauce and water, the white cotton becoming nearly transparent as it clung to the massive pecs beneath, outlining every curve and contour of the muscle with inadvertent precision. What had been merely suggested before was now on clear display, the wet fabric leaving little to the imagination.

Max sighed, looking down at the ruined garment with resigned practicality. “I can’t get on the bus home like this,” he observed, stating the obvious with calm rationality that belied the somewhat compromising situation.

Ethan stammered, clearly struggling to maintain professional composure while confronted with the magnificent sight of Max’s chest outlined in clinging wet fabric. “I—I think we have a spare shirt in the back,” he offered, latching onto this potential solution with desperate hopefulness. “Sometimes staff leave things… I’ll check.”

A few moments later, after a hurried search through lost-and-found boxes and staff lockers, Ethan returned bearing the largest polo shirt he could find, a navy blue garment with The Chapel’s subtle logo embroidered on the breast. He presented it like a peace offering, his expression hovering between apology and anticipation.

It was still visibly too small for Max’s substantial frame.

With no viable alternative, Max rose from his seat and, with casual disregard for conventional public decorum, stripped off his wet shirt in one smooth motion. The cool air of the pub hit his bare, smooth skin, raising the slightest goosebumps across the expanse of his chest. Ethan stared, no longer attempting to disguise his fascination, his eyes wide and locked onto the physical masterpiece revealed before him.

Max took the offered polo and pulled it on with practiced efficiency, years of managing clothing not designed for his physique evident in his movements. The struggle was immediate and obvious.

It was tight—achingly, almost comically tight. The short sleeves dug so deeply into his biceps that they visibly compressed the thick muscle, squeezing them like a vise attempting to contain something well beyond its capacity. The fabric stretched mercilessly across his torso, gripping his pecs with such determination that each individual fiber of the weave seemed to be holding on for dear life. The short sleeves barely covered half his upper arms, making them appear even more massive by contrast with the straining fabric.

Harry grinned, taking in the absurd sight with undisguised amusement. “Think it fits?” he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Max sighed, tugging uselessly at the hem that refused to reach his waistband properly. “Shut up,” he muttered, accepting the situation with as much dignity as possible while essentially poured into a shirt at least two sizes too small.

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Later, as the evening came to its natural conclusion, Max and Harry stood outside The Chapel in the cool night air, streetlights casting long shadows across the pavement. The borrowed shirt remained stretched to its absolute limit across Max’s torso, transforming what would have been a casual garment on anyone else into something that looked painted onto his frame.

Max pulled Harry in for a farewell hug, the gesture warm with genuine affection despite the competitive undertones that colored their relationship. “I’m proud of you,” he said, his voice carrying the sincerity of a father seeing his son succeed in his own right. “You’ve done well with yourself.”

Harry grinned, rolling his shoulders in a casual movement that was nonetheless calculated to showcase his impressive development, his pecs pushing against his shirt in a visual display of his physical prowess. “Thanks, old man,” he responded, the nickname affectionate rather than dismissive.

Two young men passing on the opposite side of the street noticed the display, their walking pace slowing as they took in Harry’s physique with undisguised appreciation. One of them let out a low whistle of admiration, the sound carrying clearly in the quiet evening air.

Max rolled his eyes, a mixture of amusement and mild exasperation at his son’s effect on strangers. “Jesus,” he muttered, though there was no real criticism in it, just the resigned observation of a phenomenon he’d witnessed countless times.

He hugged Harry once more, a quick embrace of farewell, kissing his cheek with paternal affection that contrasted with their usual banter. “See you next week,” he said, a simple confirmation of their established ritual.

Harry smirked, his eyes following the two admirers who had now stopped completely, pretending to check something on one of their phones while stealing obvious glances in his direction. With deliberate showmanship, he crossed the road unnecessarily, slowing his pace to ensure they got the full effect of his approach, the movement causing every muscle to shift and flex beneath his tight clothing.

“Want a feel?” he offered with brazen directness once he reached them, his confidence so absolute that what would have been absurdly forward from anyone else somehow seemed a perfectly reasonable suggestion coming from him.

The two young men hesitated, exchanging glances that contained equal parts disbelief and eagerness, before nervously extending their hands to run them over Harry’s biceps. Their touches were tentative at first, then more appreciative as they encountered the solid mass of muscle beneath the fabric.

Max turned back, watching this interaction from across the street, his expression complex with layered emotions. A mixture of anxiety, parental concern at his son’s sometimes reckless openness with strangers, mingled with undeniable awe at Harry’s absolute comfort in his physical magnificence. Beneath it all lay a deep, genuine pride—not just in the impressive physique Harry had built, which was in many ways a reflection of Max’s own life’s work, but in the confident, unapologetic way Harry inhabited his body, owned his desires, and embraced the attention he generated without shame or hesitation.

And as Harry stood there, bathed in the amber glow of streetlights, confidently inviting these strangers to admire him, Max couldn’t help but take in just how massive his son had become—not just physically, though that was undeniable, but as a presence that commanded space and attention with seemingly effortless grace.

In moments like these, Max felt the peculiar mixture of competitive edge and paternal pride that defined their relationship, along with something else he rarely acknowledged: a subtle envy of Harry’s freedom, his uninhibited enjoyment of being desired, touched, appreciated. It was a freedom Max had never allowed himself, a boundary he had never dared to cross.

He turned away finally, heading toward the bus stop with measured strides, his borrowed shirt still straining against his torso, a constant reminder of the evening’s unusual developments. Behind him, Harry’s laughter carried on the night air, a sound of pure pleasure and enjoyment that lingered in Max’s thoughts long after he boarded the bus home.

This is a series that will consist of cuckold stories where wives have sex and relations outside of marriage and husbands love that. There are Alpha boyfriends who will show the husbands their place and dominating wives to show cucks their place.

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Story 5

Wife’s boyfriend’s birthday

I love my wife. That’s why, when she told me she’d be spending the whole weekend with her boyfriend for his birthday, I didn’t even hesitate to nod in agreement. After all, making her happy is what matters most.

She sat on the floor, carefully wrapping a gift for him, humming to herself. She looked so radiant, so excited—but not for me. That glow, that anticipation in her eyes, was all for him.

“It’s a gift for my boyfriend, hun,” she said casually, tying a neat bow on the box. “His birthday is on Friday, so of course, I’ll be spending the whole weekend with him. That means you’ll have to take care of the kids by yourself.”

I hesitated for a moment before speaking. “Hey, sweetheart, I was thinking… there’s a big football game this weekend. The guys invited me to watch it with them. I haven’t gone out in months, so I was wondering if—”

She didn’t even let me finish.

“Oh, hun, you know I’d love for you to have fun, but this weekend is really important,” she interrupted, her tone sweet but firm. “It’s my boyfriend’s birthday. I need to be there for him. And we I had already made it clear to you that you will priortize his and my quality time over anything personal of yours. I know you have not had a relaxing weekend for months but that is not my problem. You know you have to put him and me first over your requirements.”

I swallowed my disappointment. “Right… of course.”

She smiled, oblivious—or maybe just indifferent—to my hesitation. “You understand, don’t you? His birthday is a big deal. You’ll have the kids to take care of, anyway.”

I nodded, forcing a smile. “Yeah, I get it. His birthday is more important.”

She finally looked up, flashing me a warm smile. “That’s why I love you! You’re so good to me. It’s really cute how supportive you are of my relationship with him.” She giggled. “Not many husbands would be this understanding.”

I nodded, saying nothing. What could I say? This had become my life.

And then, right on cue, the doorbell rang.

Her boyfriend stepped inside with a confident swagger, towering over me. He barely acknowledged my presence as he pulled her into his arms, kissing her deeply—right in front of me.

“Hey, babe,” he murmured, squeezing her waist. “Damn, you look amazing. I can’t wait for this weekend.”

She giggled, clinging to him. “I’ve been looking forward to it all week.”

Finally, he turned his attention to me, smirking like he always did when he saw me.

“Yo, what’s up, man?” he said casually, giving me a solid slap on the back—like I was an old friend doing him a favor. “You got everything handled here? Kids fed, house cleaned? I need my girl stress-free this weekend.”

I swallowed and nodded. “Yeah… of course. Everything’s taken care of.”

“Attaboy.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Man, I gotta say, I love this setup. I get the best of both worlds. I get to have fun with her, and you make sure everything else runs smoothly.”

My face burned, but I forced a chuckle, hoping to move past it.

Then, as if he just remembered something, he pulled out a folded piece of paper and handed it to me.

“Almost forgot. My girl made a list of things she wants done before she gets back. But hey, I threw in a few things too.”

I unfolded it, my stomach twisting as I read:

Laundry (ALL of it, not just yours)

Deep clean the kitchen and bathroom

Buy fresh groceries (healthy options, don’t be lazy)

Pick up my suit from the dry cleaners

Make sure the kids are in bed by 9 PM

Wash my car (inside AND outside, full detail)

Get those shoes I left last time, they better not be moved

I looked up. He was grinning.

“Yeah, man,” he continued, “the car thing is big. It was looking kinda rough last time. I want it spotless, cool?”

“Yeah. Got it.”

He winked. “Knew I could count on you.”

She turned to me, barely containing her excitement. “Bye, hun! Be good while I’m gone!”

And with that, they were gone, leaving me standing there, staring at the empty doorway.

Once, I had my own place in this house—a spot beside my wife in our bed, in our bedroom. But that changed a long time ago.

It started as a temporary arrangement. During her fertile days, when her boyfriend came over, I was expected to give them space.

“You understand, right?” she had said sweetly. “We need privacy during this time. It’s… important.”

I understood.

So, I started staying in the basement on those nights. A small cot, a blanket, and my phone. It was just for a few nights at first.

But soon, the nights became more frequent. Then, it became every weekend.

Then, it became permanent.

Now, the basement was my room. My clothes were down here. My stuff. My entire life had been moved beneath theirs.

Above me, I could hear the faint sounds of laughter, of music, of them together.

I pulled my blanket tighter around myself.

.

I sighed, walking back inside, glancing at the framed family photos on the wall. A perfect little family—except the kids weren’t even mine.

I still remember the day she told me.

We were sitting on the couch, her boyfriend’s arm draped lazily around her shoulders. She had been laughing at something he said when, out of nowhere, she turned to me.

“You know,” she mused, “if I’m going to have children, they should be with someone who excites me.”

I blinked. “What?”

She smiled, like it was the most natural thing in the world. “I mean, I love you. But… for a family, I need someone with strong genes. And, well…” She playfully ran her fingers down her boyfriend’s chest.

He grinned. “Yeah, man. No hard feelings, right? You’re more of a caretaker type. I’m the… creator type.”

They both laughed. I forced a chuckle, even though my stomach was twisting itself in knots.

Months later, when she announced her pregnancy, she was glowing with happiness—clinging to her boyfriend’s arm while I stood there, trying to process it all.

“You’re going to be such a great father for his baby. He realky appreciates it to. I mean he is off the hook and stress free , but gets to feel the pride and satisfaction of passing on his genes and watching his offspring grow up. You, meanwhile , will handle all the stress and responsibility of fatherhood, spending all your time and money raising his baby. And of course he gets to visit whenever he wqnts  ” she had said, patting my arm. “I know you’ll do whatever it takes to give them the best life.”

Her boyfriend had smirked. “Yeah, man. It’s kinda wild, huh? I get to do the fun part, and you get to do all the work. But I believe you are destined for that. You could never satisfy her and so she had to turn to me. But I am a lousy caretaker. So now , the kids will have all good genes and a good nanny. And don’t worry. I know taking care of kids is very stressful so I will help you relieve your stress. From now on your wife will not be doing anything with you. Not share her happy moments, not care for tlyou and obviously not have sex. We are onky doing this so that youbare stress free, got it boy.”

They had both laughed.

And now, years later, here I was—changing diapers, making school lunches, attending parent-teacher meetings—while he spent his time enjoying their mother.

After they left, I immediately got to work.

First, I went outside and washed his car, making sure to scrub every inch. Then, I went inside, started his laundry, and neatly folded his clothes when they were dry.

I set his clean shirts aside, feeling humiliated at how normal this had become

I sighed and grabbed my phone, sending a message to my friends.

Me: “No football game for me this weekend. Got kid duty while my wife celebrates her boyfriend’s birthday.”

Within seconds, the replies poured in.

Ryan: “Damn, bro. Again?”

Jake: “Man, you should start charging babysitting fees.”

Tom: “Lemme guess—he gets your wife, you get laundry duty?”

Jake: “Nah, he gets to sniff her pillow when she gets back.”

Me: “Very funny.”

Ryan: “Hey, at least she tells you in advance. Some dudes don’t even get that courtesy.”

Tom: “She probably left you a to-do list, didn’t she?”

Jake: “LMAO. She really got you trained, man. Youbare as good as a maid for them”

Ryan: “What did she get him for his birthday? Bet it’s way better than what she got you.”

I hesitated before replying.

Me: “Yeah, she put a lot of effort into it. Way more than my last birthday. She got him a Rolex.”

Jake: “LOL. Damn. What did she get you last year?”

I sighed. A $20 gift card and a ‘thanks for being a great husband’ text.

Before I could respond, another message popped up.

Tom: “Bro… you good?”

Me: “Yeah. Just gotta heat up some mac and cheese for the kids.”

The kids were asleep, and I sat alone in the living room, half-watching TV, half-scrolling through social media.

Then, a notification popped up.

A tagged photo.

It was them.

There she was, sitting on his lap at the party, a drink in her hand, smiling, leaning into him. My friends were in the background, laughing, raising their glasses in a toast.

My phone buzzed again.

Ryan: “Damn, bro. You seeing this?”

Tom: “She really went all out for him. That’s… wow.”

Then, the worst message came in.

Jake: “Bro, I was talking to him earlier. He said he might propose soon. You think she’ll say yes?”

My stomach dropped.

Ryan: “LMAO. Imagine that. He makes you the best man at your own wife’s wedding.”

My hands tightened around the phone. I turned it off. I already knew how the rest of their weekend would go. I didn’t need to see it.

And in a few days, she’d come back home, smiling, maybe even humming to herself.

And I’d smile back, act like everything was fine.

Because that’s what a good husband does.

Travelling by public transport in rural Jamaica back in my youth was a recipe for some innocent looking gay flirting, grinding and fumbling right before the doubting homophobe’s eyes without them having a clue; I think. 

Example 1

1970s Ford Transit vans were a popular means of transport to and from school. These vans would packed like sardine cans and more. 

So too the coaster buses but Ford Transit was where the thrill of crotch vs shoulder thrived daily. Taking the aisle seat meant some guy’s crotch was rubbing against my shoulder unavoidably. If it was a female standing next to me I normally gave up my seat.

But guys would innocently (I initially thought) rub their crotch on my shoulder and thrust was more exciting and intimate whenever the van was negotiating some sharp rural corner. Here even when sitting you clinging for dear life given the driver thought he was in car chase scene from the Rockford Files. 

But the guy standing up had no choice but plant their well covered dick on you. The gradual transformation of that stranger’s whood from soft to semi hard and ureka did wonders for my bag covered dick.

No words exchanged but we knew a code was happening 

Jamaica gay life like many other aspects is all about code.

On occasions that initiation rub down passage moment would lead to a back seat fumble on a subsequent trip or as the bus gradually emptied out. Or even better if the person at the window seat is getting off and me taking their place and the cock rubber is sitting next to me for the remainder of the ride. Thus beginning a session of footsie

Example 2

During the 1980s packed taxi rides especially in those Ladas and Hillman Hunters were something else back then.

Built generally to hold 4 passengers yet these taxis would suck in up to 8 of us. 

Some taxi drivers would also squeeze an extra passenger into the driver’s seat itself. Generally good looking females had such privileges.

There was this popular taxi driver called Frank who would direct me to squeeze into his seat between him and the gear stick.

Frank had a suped-up tinted Hillman Hunter stacked with a music system, small fan and a power steering.

At 18 I was tall for my age group at 5ft 11 and Frank was around 5ft 5 and in his 40s.

Me being a long legged skinny thing and Frank with love handles in the right areas made us a tight couple on that sweaty drivers seat.

These were the days when it was a free for all on Jamaican roads. Taxi drivers drank alcohol whilst driving, stopped at a bar for quick one half way into the journey and parked where ever they liked.

“Come dis side yute” Frank would say if the car is over full to capacity. Despite the sardine-tin nature of the travel I felt Frank was “safe” on the road hence he was choice number 1 for me.

What was I on?

I literally had to put my right arm behind Frank’s head and relax. Trying my best not to run my hand over his head.

This closeness to a male in such a public setting was equally paranoic and thrillling 

I began to think ..

Was Frank a “suspect?”…(one of our gay code terms then. “System of the project” was another one)

“Was he putting out the feelers?”

“What were the passengers thinking seeing me this close to Frank?”

Then one Friday afternoon coming home in Frank’s usual over loaded taxi. We were caught in heavy traffic made worse by the torrential weather and me in the cockpick seat with Frank.

Thus a journey that would normally take 30 minutes was now to add a further 90 minutes to negotiate the treacherous substandard road conditions.

I was getting so aroused and my document folder on my lap was doing its utmost to cover up any unusual but natural upliftment. 

Something about rain and sexuality that always does it for me and I was feeling it. 

The packed car and overcast setting made me being so close to Frank’s heart pounding.

Frank’s left elbow brushed my stiff hard on and his left foot rubbed my left one in a more deliberate fashion.

Despite Jamaica having a reputation for land, wood, water and homophobia I was never one to toe any traditional line. 

The steam and our closeness meant Frank and we were releasing sweat mutually on each other.

I was playing internal windscreen wiper to clear the mist and rubbing against was Frank again.

The rain water was reaching such higher levels on the road which was tricky for Frank’s car given the over loading weight.

So Frank flagged down a bus going in the same direction and suggested us passengers switch rides.

All took Frank’s advice and jumped on the bus except me. The “code” between us was set as I moved across to the front passenger seat. 

As Frank and headed off slowly in his heavily tinted car I rubbed my right hand along his car as he touched my right thigh whilst shifting gears.

Whenever we reached a standstill in the traffic Frank moved his hand over crotch and to see my reaction.

“Tek it (dick) out let me feel it prentice” 

Frank was taken aback by my large thick cock and I pulled back the foreskin as he played with its precum tip.

Frank admitted despite being married that he was into guys from school days and his first gay sexual encounter was with a classmate.

Frank said he picked up my vibe after the 2nd time I sat with him and noticed my hard on. 

Frank then turned off into a side road but left the engine running and had a sniff and taste of my cock.

This lasted less than 5 minutes before Frank headed back into the heavy traffic knowing this was the shape of things to come.

Much to the anger of some female passengers I became Frank’s co-chair companion especially coming home.

The fondle between us would get more risky for those journeys home.

Happy days.

One day I caught Frank’s taxi with a female friend and we squashed into the back.

Frank chaperoned a slim guy into his seat. I was a bit jealous but quickly came to my senses. 

“The cheeky bugger” – I thought

Then my female mate whispered that there rumours that Frank was a “bee man”.

“Really?” I said but my head was wondering if Frank knew about such rumours and whether my name was mentioned.”

Such packed taxis is thankfully no longer allowed 

Today, certain drivers of mini buses and taxis have big signs up stating “women” only in the front seat!

Lol

Frank was such an influence on local gay life back then. He even ran a gayish discreet bar that was flowed successfully under the radar of the locals for 15 years and attracted guys from all walks.

More on that in a later but much shorter post.

Hopefully

Martin saw the scene from outside himself.

He saw Tommy clutching his cheek, fighting back tears as people crowded around him. The coach was there, standing between them. He said something to Martin and herded him up the hall away from the gym. All Martin could hear were the whispered words: kiss, punch, gay.

Coach put him on the bench outside the principal’s office and told him to wait.

He sat for a long time. His head and shoulders felt heavy, so he stared at the ground. Pairs of feet walked by: the clacky black shoes of the secretary going from her desk to the copier and back, and the runners of the coach as he left the principal’s office to attend the game. And then his mom arrived. She was wearing her black office shoes, so he knew she had been pulled away from work first thing on a Monday to deal with her delinquent son.

The principal invited them in.

It was a simple white-walled office. A metal desk sat in the centre and the boxy, stoic Mr. Kingsley sat behind it. Martin kept his eyes on the mug full of pens and pencils on the edge of the desk with the “how do you do, fellow kids?” meme on it while the principal filled his mom in on what had happened.

There wasn’t much of a conversation. They asked him to explain himself, and Martin said something about it being an argument that got out of hand, that he was sorry. Mr. Kingsley explained there was no wiggle room on the rules and he was being suspended. The fact it was the last week of school didn’t matter. Homework would be sent to him, he was still expected to sit exams next week, and he was not allowed to attend any school events for five days. So no Prom.

Martin nodded along and stared at the mug and waited for it to be over.

Finally, Mr. Kingsley shook his mom’s hand and Martin followed her out the door, through the atrium, and out to the parking lot.

She didn’t say anything until he had buckled his seatbelt.

“Do you want to stop for ice cream on the way home?”

He finally looked up, confused.

“Or maybe we should just go home and get you an ice pack. Is your hand ok?”

“My hand?”

He looked down and saw the pink bruise forming on his knuckles and it was like the connection rewired. He suddenly felt a rush of pain through his wrist as his hand throbbed.

The pain must have shown on his face because she started the car and said, “Let’s get that ice pack.”

Martin kept his eyes on his hand, running over every detail of the skin, but trying hard not to think about the reason it hurt. Flashes of Tommy’s face appeared in his mind and he struggled to breath. His chest felt constrained, like cold fingers were slowly squeezing his heart.

He glanced up at his mom. She looked like she always did while driving: calm, quiet, and focused on checking all her mirrors twice. She turned down onto the dead-end street where they lived.

“Aren’t you going to ask me about Tommy?” He said, his voice quiet.

“Do you want me to ask about Tommy?” She turned to him and the soft understanding look in her eyes made Martin want to cry.

He chewed his cheek and clenched his fist, which hurt, but he did not cry. He shook his head and said, “No.”

She just nodded and continued driving.

“Am I in trouble?”

“Do you want to be?”

His voice cracked, “Why are you acting like nothing happened?”

She pulled into the driveway and parked.

As the sound of the engine faded, she seemed to be thinking through her words, but Martin was done waiting and unbuckled his seatbelt.

Just as he reached for the handle the door locked.

Nora’s finger hovered on the lock button on her side and she said, still calm, “Just wait.”

Martin waited, but he stared at his feet.

“I’m not trying to act like nothing happened,” she explained, “But I’m not going to punish you. I think you punish yourself too much already.”

He looked up at her. She was looking at him the way she used to, when he was a little kid getting angry at himself for making a mistake.

“I know the past year, everything, has been hard on you. It’s a lot of change to deal with. And it’s your senior year. I thought letting you process the divorce at your own pace, do your own thing, was the right way to handle it. But I think maybe I pulled back too much.”

The grip on Martin’s heart loosened, but he still tried to keep the emotions off his face. He wasn’t going to let himself cry in front of his mom.

“I don’t know what happened between you and Tommy. And you don’t have to tell me. But life is…” she hesitated, looking for the right words. “Life doesn’t follow a plan. You know what I mean? Sometimes unexpected things happen.”

She smiled and then she unlocked the doors.

“But sometimes unexpected things are good.”

Martin hesitated, but then he got out of the car and went inside.

 

He skipped dinner. His mom knocked on his door and offered to bring a plate up but he just told her he wasn’t hungry. He felt like he didn’t deserve it, like he didn’t deserve anything. He’d been so desperate and scared of what Tommy made him feel that he’d exploded, and he hurt him. It almost didn’t matter to him that he’d fucked up Prom and basketball and being valedictorian. The shock on Tommy’s face was sitting with him, the image of it burned into his eyes.

He couldn’t risk looking at his phone, so he grabbed a random movie off the shelf and tried to lose himself in The Godfather.

 

Martin woke up when his mom went to work.

He got out of bed and finally changed out of his basketball uniform, burying the silver and black fabric at the bottom of his laundry hamper. He put on black sweatpants and a ratty white t-shirt with the sleeves cut off and emerged to scrounge for food.

The fridge had a plate of lasagna waiting for him.

He watched the plate as it rotated in the microwave, and then he devoured it while standing in the kitchen.

The house was silent.

Their neighbours were a young professional couple and their house was the last one on a dead-end street. No one drove past. Sometimes a jogging group would come by or a tweaker would shout something from the nearby trails.

Martin didn’t know what else to do so he put the second Godfather film on the living room TV and sank into the couch.

Michael Corleone was in Cuba and his brother had betrayed him when the doorbell rang. It was just after noon, probably a package delivery.

He stepped up to the door and opened it.

“Don’t you charge your fucking phone?” Elizabeth demanded.

She stepped inside before he could think to stop her.

“Sorry,” she said, “That was aggressive. But seriously, I deserve some kind of check in.”

“I’m sorry,” he said.

She crossed her arms and waited a moment before she asked, “Well?”

“Well what?”

“I’m not playing that game, Martin. Just tell me what happened.”

“It’s nothing. It was just a disagreement.”

She closed her eyes and took a breath. Then she dropped her arms and softened her voice, “Martin, I’m not a moron like Brittany Carson. I know the difference between a rumour that’s a lie and a rumour that’s true. Just tell me what happened.”

“What are people saying?”

“They’re saying you kissed!” She immediately lowered her voice and said again, “Sorry. I just… ugh… it’s been a weird day. There was this whole thing with my sister and it’s got me agitated, and then everyone starts asking me questions about my gay boyfriend and it’s just this dumb high school drama that–”

“I’m not gay,” he said, cutting her off.

Her face softened and she gave a sympathetic smile as she moved in for a hug.

As her arms wrapped around him, Martin struggled to understand what was happening. She wasn’t treating him like a cheating boyfriend, or a violent offender, or even like a neglectful texter. She was treating him like a little brother.

She pulled away from the hug but held his shoulders and stared into his soul as she said, “Yes you are.”

“No I’m not.”

“Martin, you’ve been fooling around with Tommy, right?”

The cold grip squeezed his heart and he tried to deny it, but she seemed to be a dozen steps ahead of every thought he had.

“Look, I’m not an expert in human sexuality by a long shot. But I’ve fucked up at least two relationships already, one of them with a girl, so I know some of the signs. You’re always looking at Tommy instead of me or any other girls–”

“No, it’s not–”

She put a finger over his mouth to stop him lying again and he let her talk.

“You guys have been sneaking off all the time,” she continued, “You never wanted us around. And while guys like Connor Davis are getting girls pregnant, you two were so respectful of Becka and I that we had to get you drunk at that bonfire to get you to make out with us the first time.”

She let go of him and he was too shocked to say anything. She continued, “I don’t know exactly what you are struggling with, but I know you aren’t being honest with yourself. So I’m dumping you.”

“You’re what?”

“Trust me, I’m doing you a favour. The sooner you figure out what you really want and stop lying to yourself, the better. You don’t like me, Martin.”

Martin felt numb and exposed, like she had painted his portrait and then beaten him over the head with it.

“I do like you,” he said quietly.

She raised an eyebrow.

“It’s true, though,” he continued, “even if I am… bi.”

His words hung in the air between them, but the cold grip on his heart slipped away. He’d never said it before, out loud, but it had been sitting there the whole time like an invisible chain around his neck.

She smiled and said, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have defaulted to saying you were gay. It was very hypocritical.”

“Yeah,” he said, “You’re the worst.”

She punched his shoulder and pulled him in for another hug.

“I don’t know what happened with you and Tommy, by the way,” she whispered in his ear. “I heard you kissed and then you punched him. You don’t have to tell me if you aren’t ready, but whatever is eating at you… Don’t let it win.”

He knew what it was. He’d always know, but he hadn’t talked about it. Every time his mom brought it up he ignored her or changed the subject. Last summer they had talked to him about going to a therapist to work through it and he just ignored the subject until she stopped offering. He had avoided it with Tommy and never gave Elizabeth any details. Never inviting them over to the new house. He had lived in constant fear that the rumour would spread, but it turned out the adults in this town were much less prone to gossip about their relationships than their children, and no one had found out what happened last summer.

But he knew who he had to tell.

“Was Tommy at school today?” He asked.

Elizabeth shook her head, no.

But Martin knew where he would be.

 

The blacktop basketball court was the only part of the community centre that had been built before the funding ran out, so it was tucked away behind some trees, away from the main road. It was farther than the school, but it had been the main practice area for Tommy and Martin as they started their basketball journey.

When Martin had presented his plan for the perfect life, Tommy had jumped on board with both feet. He’d always been supportive of Martin’s plans, and going into their senior year this one had extra weight. They were going to maximize their high school experiences together, get girlfriends, lose their virginities at Prom, get accepted to a great school, and then go to university together to be roommates and get hazed by a fraternity at night while they wowed their professors during the day. They binge watched teen movies together like the Breakfast Club and the Dead Poets Society as they planned the year.

Martin had been so thankful to have a supportive friend. It meant he didn’t have to deal with his family drama.

He heard the basketball before he saw it.

It bounced hard, and the backboard rattled with a high-power shot. It was the sound of someone taking out their frustration.

Martin took a deep breath and stepped up to the edge of the court.

Tommy was sweating under the afternoon sun. His shirt was abandoned by a water bottle on the sidelines. He caught the ball off a rebound and turned to reset at the three point line, but he stopped when he saw Martin.

He had a dark bruise under his left eye and Martin’s heart skipped a beat when he saw what he had done, but he pushed through the shame and walked forward.

Tommy dribbled the ball once as he watched Martin approach. His lean muscles tense.

Martin stopped a meter away and struggled to find the right way to start, so he fell back on the classic, “Hey.”

“Hey.”

Tommy wasn’t giving any reaction, except to keep slowly bouncing the basketball from one hand to the other against the ground between his shoes.

“I’m sorry,” said Martin.

“Ok.”

“I got scared when you kissed me. There were so many people around.”

“So?”

“So I wasn’t ready to let people see that side of me.”

Tommy held the ball still. “That side of you?”

“Yeah.”

The silence between them was heavy.

Suddenly Tommy bounced the ball to Martin and he caught it against his chest.

“So do you have something to tell me?” Tommy asked, crossing his arms.

Martin nodded and took a deep breath and for the first time in his life he admitted out loud, “My dad is gay.”

Tommy was confused, “Wait, what?”

“He came out to my mom last year and they separated. That’s why we moved. My parents got divorced.”

“Wait, what? What the fuck? What about you?”

“Oh, I’m bi. Sorry, I should have started with that. I just, I decided to come over here and tell you everything and it was a long walk and, yeah. I’m bi, but my dad is gay.”

“Wait, ok, yeah, but, wait, what?” Tommy was looking around trying to piece everything together.

Total confusion was another new look for Tommy, and Martin had to admit it was very cute. He took another deep breath and finally let out everything he had been holding in, “I had started thinking I might be gay last year, before all the stuff happened with my parents. It was after that swimming pool trip we had when Darren Mills pulled down your swimsuit. Do you remember?”

“Yes, it was my swimsuit.”

“Yeah, of course, sorry, but yeah, that was when I started thinking I might like guys as well as girls. It was new, and confusing, and I was still figuring it out when my parents sat me down and said they were getting a divorce because my dad was gay. It just, I don’t know, it just hit me weird.”

Martin wasn’t sure if it was the feeling of being honest for the first time, or the fact he was alone with Tommy again, but he felt calm as he continued, “I never really had to deal with anything big like that before. Like, not just the gay dad thing obviously, but we had never even moved before. I grew up in that house. I’ve never had to go to a funeral, or spend much time in a hospital. I don’t know anyone in the army, or a refugee, or anything. My life was fucking simple!”

“But then it wasn’t,” said Tommy.

Martin nodded, “I just wanted to get that back, so I did what I always do and over-thought it and over-prepared and wrote up that plan. And then I roped you into it and I pushed you to join the basketball team and pick universities and get girlfriends and go to the Prom, and… I just wanted to feel normal.”

Martin dropped his eyes to the basketball in his hands. He was shocked when he saw a tear drip off his nose and hit the orange rubber. He held the ball against his hip with one hand and wiped his eyes. It had been years since he’d let himself cry.

Tommy’s steady expression finally broke and he took the ball from under Martin’s arm and threw it away towards his shirt. “Hey,” he said, stepping closer, “You are normal.”

Martin scoffed, but it was nice to hear. “Thanks,” he said. Without another option, he wiped his nose on the inside of his shirt.

Tommy sighed, “I’m sorry I kissed you in front of all those people. Even though I knew you were wrong and being stubborn, it wasn’t right to pressure you like that–”

Martin interrupted him with a kiss.

He slid his tongue across Tommy’s lips and held the back of his head with one hand while the other landed on Tommy’s sweaty waist.

They both felt the last bit of tension between them melt away. It turned out they could say a lot more to each other without words.

Tommy slipped his hands under the back of Martin’s shirt and pulled their bodies closer. They fit together again like no time had passed, like none of the chaos and conflict of the past week had happened. It was like they were back behind the gymnasium stands, seeing how close they could get.

Suddenly Tommy pulled away and asked, “So, wait, your dad is gay?!”

Martin laughed and nodded, still holding Tommy at the waist. “I don’t know why I let it bother me so much. I think it was just a shock.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Now my parents probably think I’m homophobic.”

“And you punched a gay kid.”

Martin winced and his eyes went to the bruise on Tommy’s cheek.

Tommy held his face in both hands as he said, “Hey, it’s ok, I forgive you.”

Martin saw a flash of Tommy’s face against his pillow from the last time they had sex. Martin whispered, “I’m sorry I ran away from you.”

Tommy shrugged, “That’s ok. I got caught up in the moment. Probably shouldn’t have let that slip out.”

“No, I’m glad you said it because…”

Tommy held his breath.

“I love you,” Martin said.

Tommy let the air out of his lungs in a slow, rattling breath and whispered, “Fuck, I didn’t realize how much I wanted to hear you say that.”

“Do you still…? You know?”

Tommy pulled Martin’s face in for another kiss, and then he parted their lips just enough to whisper, “I love you too, piglet.”

Martin had to laugh, and without meaning to, he snorted.

It broke them and they both fell against each other laughing, their foreheads together, hands on bare skin.

As their laughter settled, they hugged. They listened to each other breathing, and to the quiet wind through the trees, and the distant cicadas.

Martin was the first to pull away, but he kept his hands on Tommy’s naked waist, and his eyes on his smooth chest, as he asked, “So, do you maybe want to… practice?”

Tommy raised his chin with a finger to look in his eyes as he shook his head. “No,” he said, “I want you to fuck me.”

Martin chewed his lip and felt his cock throb. “My place?”

Tommy shook his head again and held Martin’s wrist. He pulled him along to the side of the court where the trees grew thick.

They didn’t go far. The basketball hoops and the parking lot were still in view, but around them were only trees and soft mossy dirt.

Martin looked around to make sure they were alone, but Tommy wasted no time and pulled Martin’s shirt up and off. He pressed their chests together as he kissed him again, eager and desperate, his hands sliding across Martin’s naked back.

Tommy’s kisses moved to Martin’s cheek and neck, and then he slid slowly further. He kissed his collarbone, his chest, his ribs, his abs as he sank to his knees on the forest floor. Martin stood still, letting Tommy take the lead with his electric touch.

Looking up at Martin, Tommy slipped his fingers into the waistband of Martin’s shorts and underwear and pulled them down enough for his hard cock to escape.

It had barely hit the air before Tommy wrapped his lips around it and sucked it deep inside his mouth.

It was warm and wet and Martin had to hold himself back from grabbing Tommy’s hair to pull him deeper.

But Tommy had other plans. He left as much spit on Martin’s cock as he could and then he pulled away and stripped his shorts and underwear off in one go, laying them out on a clear patch of dirt.

Standing there, naked except for his shoes, Tommy was the most beautiful boy Martin had ever seen.

Tommy took his hand again and pulled him down with him. He sat on his shorts and leaned back, pulling his legs up to his chest.

Martin had barely gotten to his knees when Tommy was pulling his cock in. He spat on his fingers and slicked Martin’s head before it made contact. He was focused, determined, and Martin followed his lead and pushed inside.

Tommy grunted as Martin’s head punched through his ring on a layer of sweat and spit. He focused on relaxing and nodded for Martin to continue.

Martin’s fingers dug into the dirt beside Tommy’s shoulders as he pushed inside.

They were both sweating, their naked skin shining in the light through the trees.

After a minute of careful pressure, Martin’s hips met Tommy’s legs, and they stared into each other’s eyes as they thought about all they had learned with each other, how they could communicate with just subtle movements, how they could read what the other was feeling just by the way they breathed, or gasped, or moaned.

Martin started to fuck. He pressed forward at just the right angle to make Tommy’s cock throb, and Tommy pushed his head back into the dirt and muttered, “Fuck.”

They were both desperate for it, to feel the release, and they looked in each other’s eyes and knew it would be fast. They would have plenty of time together for long, sensual fucks. Right now they needed to cum.

Martin lowered his chest to Tommy’s, pressed his elbows into the dirt, and wrapped his fingers around the back of Tommy’s shoulders.

Tommy reached behind Martin, wrapped his legs around him, and drew their faces together. He slid his tongue across Martin’s lip before diving in. He flexed his hips to fuck his cock against Martin’s stomach as Martin fucked him harder.

They clawed at each other, holding each other as tight as they could as they fucked closer and closer.

Everything else was gone. The trees, the basketball court, the school, their ex-girlfriends, and their families; their whole world was their naked bodies.

Martin felt Tommy’s muscles clench on his shaft as he thrust all the way in. Tommy whimpered into his mouth as warm cum exploded between them. Tommy’s cock throbbed and unloaded, sticking their chests together.

Martin pulled away from their kiss enough to see Tommy’s flushed, sweaty face, the watery cum on his naked stomach, and he fucked harder as the pleasure boiled up inside him. And then he came. He fucked and came. His cock throbbed again as he shot his load deep inside his beautiful, naked, boyfriend.

They were a mess of sweat and cum and dirt, and they had never felt better.

Martin collapsed on top of Tommy, burying his face in his neck. He breathed in his scent, kissed his neck, and licked his salty skin. Tommy giggled at the feeling, held him close, and said, “Do that again.”

THE END

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