Day One

The mountain air was crisp, carrying the scent of pine and damp earth as Zack and Kyr trekked along the winding trail toward the cabin. The sun hung low, painting the peaks in shades of gold and amber. Zack, with his broad shoulders and tousled dark hair, led the way, his hiking boots crunching against the gravel. Kyr trailed just behind, his lean frame moving with a quiet grace, his hazel eyes flickering toward Zack whenever he thought he wouldn’t be noticed. They’d been best friends since middle school—two scrappy kids who’d bonded over dodgeball and late-night video game marathons—but now, at 23, Kyr carried a secret that gnawed at him: he was hopelessly, achingly in love with Zack.

The cabin came into view, a rustic single-story retreat nestled among towering pines. It was small, with weathered wood walls and a slanted roof, the kind of place that promised solitude. Inside, there was a modest kitchen, a lumpy couch, and—most crucially—one large bed dominating the single bedroom. Kyr’s stomach flipped at the sight of it. Three nights. Three nights sharing that bed with Zack, the guy he’d fantasized about for years. Zack, oblivious as ever, dropped his backpack by the door and stretched, his shirt riding up to reveal a sliver of toned abs. Kyr swallowed hard, averting his gaze.

They spent the first day fishing at the nearby lake, the water shimmering under the afternoon sun. Zack cast his line with practiced ease, his biceps flexing beneath his t-shirt. Kyr tried to focus on his own rod, but his eyes kept drifting to Zack—specifically to the way he kept shifting his weight, adjusting his jeans with a subtle grimace. By the time they switched to hiking, Zack’s fidgeting had grown impossible to ignore. He’d pause mid-step, tug at his waistband, and mutter under his breath.

“Dude, what’s up with you?” Kyr finally asked, keeping his tone light as they trudged up a steep incline. “You got ants in your pants or something?”

Zack barked a laugh, but it was tight, edged with frustration. He stopped walking, running a hand through his hair. “Man, I’m just… fuck, I’m pent up, alright? My girl dumped me two months ago, and I haven’t had pussy since. Jerking off’s not cutting it anymore. I’m losing my damn mind.”

Kyr’s heart thudded so loud he was sure Zack could hear it. Two months. No wonder Zack was a walking bundle of tension. His mind raced, a dangerous idea forming before he could stop it. “I’d, uh, be happy to help a brother out anytime,” he blurted, the words tumbling out in a rush.

Zack froze, then cracked up, clapping Kyr on the shoulder. “Unless you’ve got a pussy hidden away somewhere, I’ll pass, bro. Nice try, though.”

The rejection stung, even if Kyr had expected it. Of course he’d say that, he thought, forcing a grin to mask the ache in his chest. He’s straight. He’s always been straight. Get it through your thick skull, Kyr. They finished the hike in companionable silence, the banter flowing as easily as ever, but Kyr’s mind churned. He’d spent years burying his feelings, convincing himself friendship was enough. But hearing Zack admit his need—it lit a spark of hope Kyr couldn’t quite extinguish.

That night, they climbed into the bed, the mattress creaking under their combined weight. Both were down to their briefs—Zack in black Calvins, Kyr in faded blue cotton. Kyr tucked his legs under the blanket, praying Zack wouldn’t notice the stubborn, thin 4.5-inch erection he was fighting to hide. He stole glances at Zack’s outline in the dim light, the fabric of his briefs stretched tight over what looked like a serious package. Was Zack half-hard, or was he just that big? Kyr’s mouth watered, his imagination running wild with images of peeling those briefs down, tasting the salt of Zack’s skin.

“Dude, you okay?” Zack’s voice cut through the haze, sharp with amusement. “You’re drooling like a damn dog.”

Kyr jolted, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. “Just tired, man,” he mumbled, rolling onto his side to hide the flush creeping up his neck. Zack chuckled and turned off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness. Kyr lay there, heart pounding, listening to Zack’s steady breathing until exhaustion finally dragged him under.

Day Two

The second day dawned bright and cold, the mountain air seeping through the cabin’s thin walls. They hit the trails again, fishing poles slung over their shoulders, but Zack’s restlessness had worsened. He’d barely slept, Kyr could tell—his eyes were shadowed, his movements jittery. Without the privacy to relieve himself, Zack’s frustration was a palpable thing, radiating off him in waves. Kyr noticed every twitch, every curse muttered under Zack’s breath, and it fueled a reckless determination in him.

They traded jabs all day, Kyr testing the waters with half-joking offers. “You sure I can’t fix that little problem for you, bro?” he’d say, waggling his eyebrows. Zack would roll his eyes, shove him playfully, and say, “Keep dreaming, perv.” It was their usual rhythm, but Kyr couldn’t shake the feeling that Zack’s laughter was a little too forced, his glances lingering a beat too long.

By evening, they were sprawled on the couch, a shitty ‘80s B-movie flickering on the ancient TV. The screen was a paradeOfficially parade of big hair and bigger tits, the kind of softcore nonsense that barely qualified as entertainment. Kyr barely registered the plot, his attention snagging on Zack beside him. Zack’s chest rose and fell faster, his lips parted as he stared at a curly-haired blonde peeling off her top. His hand rested on his thigh, fingers flexing like he was fighting the urge to move them.

Kyr’s pulse spiked. Before he could second-guess himself, he lunged, tackling Zack off the couch. They hit the floor in a tangle of limbs, wrestling like they had a hundred times before. Zack’s laughter rumbled against Kyr’s chest as they grappled, rolling across the rug. Kyr’s leg brushed Zack’s groin—accidentally, he swore—and Zack froze, shoving him off with a grunt.

“Time out, dude,” Zack said, sitting up, his face flushed. “I’m, uh… fuck, this is embarrassing. I’ve got blue balls bad, man. I need relief, like, yesterday. Sorry if I’m screwing up the trip.”

Kyr’s mind went into overdrive. This was it—his shot. He wasn’t proud of it, but desperation clawed at him, drowning out reason. He’s your best friend. Don’t fuck this up, his conscience hissed. But his dick had other ideas. He sat back, feigning a dramatic sigh. “Bro, if it’s my duty as your wingman to help you out, I will. Seriously. If you can’t enjoy this trip because of this, either we fix it, or we pack up and go home.”

Zack blinked, his brows knitting together. “Dude, what? You’re a guy. I’m a guy. Wouldn’t that be… you know, gay?”

Kyr forced a laugh, leaning into the absurdity to keep it light. “Only if I take my socks off and don’t say ‘no homo.’ C’mon, we’re tight enough for me to do you this solid. No big deal.”

Inside, Kyr was screaming. Please say yes. Please, please, please. Zack rubbed the back of his neck, his expression warring between doubt and desperation. Finally, he exhaled, a sound of surrender. “What the hell, man. If you’re up for it, I think I need it. Just… don’t make it weird, okay?”

Kyr nearly passed out from the rush of adrenaline, but he played it cool, nodding like it was nothing. “Alright, sit on the couch, legs apart. We’ll watch the hot chicks on TV, and I’ll handle it.”

Zack shrugged, still hesitant, and settled onto the couch, spreading his thighs. The movie droned on, the blonde now topless and giggling. Kyr knelt between Zack’s legs, his hands trembling as he reached for the button of Zack’s jeans. He popped it open, slid the zipper down, and Zack’s cock sprang free, smacking Kyr square in the cheek. Eight-and-a-half inches of thick, uncut perfection, already swollen and leaking precum. Kyr couldn’t stop himself. “Looks like someone’s eager,” he teased, voice low.

Zack’s face went scarlet. “Shut up, bro. You said no weird shit.”

Kyr grinned, wrapping his fingers around the base. It pulsed in his grip, hot and heavy, the skin velvet-smooth over steel. He stroked slowly, savoring the weight, the way Zack’s breath hitched. Precum beaded at the tip, and Kyr leaned in, parting his lips to take the head into his mouth. The taste—salty, musky, unmistakably Zack—hit him like a drug. He sank lower, inch by inch, until his nose pressed into Zack’s coarse pubes, the scent flooding his senses.

Zack groaned, head tipping back against the couch. “Fuck, dude…” His hand landed on Kyr’s head, tentative at first, then firm, guiding him deeper. Kyr’s throat tightened around the intrusion, but he reveled in it, swirling his tongue along the shaft, teasing the sensitive foreskin. Zack’s moans grew louder, raw and unrestrained, spurring Kyr on. He bobbed faster, hollowing his cheeks, his own cock straining painfully against his jeans.

“Oh shit, I’m gonna cum!” Zack gasped, both hands clamping onto Kyr’s head. He thrust up, burying himself deep as his cock throbbed, unloading two months of pent-up frustration in thick, hot spurts. Kyr swallowed greedily, the flood overwhelming but intoxicating, his own orgasm ripping through him unbidden. He came in his pants, a sticky mess he barely registered over the euphoria of Zack’s release.

When it was over, Zack pulled Kyr off, their eyes locking in a charged, breathless moment. Kyr’s brain short-circuited. “Guess I don’t need protein for my workout,” he quipped, instantly regretting the lameness.

Zack gave弱 laugh, breaking the tension. “Yeah, uh… I’m beat, man. Thanks for… that. I’m gonna crash.” He stood, avoiding Kyr’s gaze as he shuffled to the bedroom.

Kyr’s stomach sank. I fucked up. He hates me now. The cum in his belly felt like lead as he trudged to the shower, washing away the evidence but not the dread.

Day Three

The third day dawned gray and heavy, the sky a blanket of clouds that mirrored the tension between them. Zack was aloof, his usual boisterous energy replaced by a quiet distance that sliced through Kyr like a blade. They went through the motions—fishing at the lake, hiking the trails—but every silence felt like a judgment. Kyr’s chest ached with regret. He’d crossed a line last night, and now his lifelong friendship hung by a thread. He can’t even look at me, Kyr thought, casting his line into the water with more force than necessary. I’m such an idiot.

Zack, meanwhile, was a storm of confusion. He’d woken up with the memory of Kyr’s mouth on him, the wet heat, the way his throat had gripped him tighter than any girl ever had. It wasn’t just good—it was the best damn blowjob of his life, and that terrified him. He wasn’t gay. He liked women—tits, curves, pussy. That was his thing. So why couldn’t he stop stealing glances at Kyr? Why did his eyes linger on the way Kyr’s shirt clung to his chest, or the subtle sway of his hips when he walked ahead on the trail? Zack’s dick twitched at the thought, and he cursed himself, adjusting his jeans for the hundredth time that day.

The hike back to the cabin was a slog, the air thick with unspoken words. Kyr tried to lighten the mood, tossing out a weak, “You’re quieter than a monk today, bro,” but Zack only grunted, his jaw tight. By the time they stumbled through the cabin door, the sun had dipped below the horizon, leaving the interior dim and shadowed. They collapsed onto the couch, the TV flickering to life with some random sitcom Kyr didn’t care to identify. The awkwardness lingered, a third presence in the room, until Kyr couldn’t take it anymore.

“So, uh, you owe me for last night, huh?” he said, forcing a grin, hoping to claw back some normalcy.

Zack scoffed, a flicker of his old self breaking through. Before he could stop himself, the words slipped out: “Bro, just be glad you don’t have a pussy, or I’d have rocked you ragged.”

Kyr’s heart stuttered, but he seized the opening, his voice teasing. “You know there’s more than one type of fuckhole.”

The room went still, the air crackling with something new—dangerous, electric. Zack’s breath caught, his eyes darting to Kyr’s, then away. They sat in silence, the TV’s laugh track a mocking backdrop to the tension coiling between them. Kyr’s mind raced. Did I push too far? Is he pissed?Zack’s fingers drummed on his knee, his thoughts a chaotic spiral. He’s joking. He’s gotta be. But… fuck, what if he’s not?

Finally, Kyr stood, stretching with an exaggerated yawn to break the spell. “Well, guess I’m gonna hop in bed. We’ve got a lot to pack tomorrow for the trip back.”

Zack mumbled, “Yeah, cool,” but his eyes followed Kyr as he walked toward the bedroom. The jeans hugged Kyr’s ass just right, the fabric stretching over the roundness, and Zack’s throat went dry. He’d never noticed how… feminine Kyr’s hips were, how they swayed with each step. His dick stirred, a traitor to his mantra of I’m straight, I’m straight. He shook his head, trying to dislodge the thought, and followed Kyr, his footsteps heavier than necessary.

In the bedroom, Kyr stripped down to his briefs, the faded blue cotton clinging to his lean frame. He bent over to toss his shirt aside, and the fabric stretched taut, outlining his ass in a way that made Zack’s breath hitch. At 5’7, Kyr was shorter than Zack’s 6’1, his build slighter but defined—especially his chest, where his pecs swelled softly, almost like small breasts. Zack’s stomach flipped, butterflies warring with panic. What the hell is happening to me?

Kyr straightened and brushed past him toward the bed, their bodies grazing for a split second. That fleeting contact—Kyr’s hip against Zack’s groin—was a match to gasoline. Zack’s restraint snapped. He grabbed Kyr’s arm, spun him around, and crashed their lips together in a kiss that was all teeth and desperation. Kyr froze, then melted, his hands clutching Zack’s shoulders as they stumbled around the room, banging into the dresser, the wall, the bedframe. Their briefs strained against dueling erections, the friction a maddening tease.

They broke apart, panting. Kyr glanced down at Zack’s massive tent, a grin tugging at his lips. “Excited, are we?”

Zack leaned in, his voice a gravelly whisper against Kyr’s ear. “About that other fuckhole you were talking about…”

Kyr’s eyes widened, then darkened with hunger. He shoved Zack onto the bed, ripping off his black Calvins with a ferocity that nearly tore them. Zack’s cock sprang free, 8.5 inches of thick, uncut heat, already glistening with precum. Kyr kicked off his own briefs, his thin, 4.5-inch dick bobbing as he knelt between Zack’s legs. He dove down, taking Zack’s cock into his mouth with a sloppy, wet enthusiasm—spit dripping down the shaft, coating it in slick lube as he sucked and slurped, his tongue flicking over the sensitive head. Zack groaned, hands fisting the sheets, the messy sound of it driving him wild.

Satisfied with the glistening sheen on Zack’s dick, Kyr pulled off with a wet pop, climbed up, and straddled Zack’s crotch. His knees dug into the mattress on either side, his small cock brushing Zack’s abs as he positioned himself, Zack’s slick tip nudging his tight entrance. Their eyes locked, a silent dare passing between them. Zack’s hands gripped Kyr’s hips, trembling with need, and pulled him down. The first breach was slow, a wet, stretching burn that drew a hiss from Kyr’s lips and a groan from Zack’s throat. “Fuck, you’re tight,” Zack rasped, his fingers digging into Kyr’s flesh as he sank deeper, inch by searing inch, until Kyr’s ass pressed flush against his pelvis, a faint queef escaping that made them both laugh, sharp and breathless.

Kyr braced his hands on Zack’s chest, the coarse hair tickling his palms, and started to move. He thrust downward, taking Zack fully, the thickness stretching him to the brink of pain and ecstasy. “Goddamn, you’re huge,” he panted, rocking his hips in a rhythm that built slow and deliberate. Zack’s head tipped back, his moans raw and unrestrained. “Fuck, bro, you feel so good.”

Kyr’s pace quickened, his thighs flexing as he rode Zack with abandon, high-pitched moans spilling from his lips in a keening wail that echoed off the cabin walls. The sound—sharp, almost girlish—snapped Zack’s attention downward. Kyr’s thin, 4.5-inch dick bounced with each thrust, slapping against Zack’s taut abs with a wet, rhythmic smack-smack-smack. It was tiny, delicate, unmistakably feminine in its slender shape, and the sight hit Zack like a freight train. Holy shit, that’s hot, he thought, his cock throbbing harder inside Kyr’s tight heat. The contrast—his own massive, masculine shaft buried deep, and Kyr’s dainty little prick flopping against him—drove him wild, a primal surge of lust he couldn’t explain.

Kyr cringed inwardly—I sound like a chick—but Zack’s darkened eyes and ragged breaths told him it was working. Zack’s hands slid up, cupping Kyr’s pecs, squeezing the soft mounds. “Your pussy’s so fucking good,” he growled, the words unfiltered, his gaze flickering back to Kyr’s slapping dick, the feminine vulnerability of it pushing him closer to the edge.

That praise ignited Kyr. He slammed down harder, grinding in tight circles, Zack’s cock dragging against every sensitive spot inside him while his own cock kept smacking Zack’s abs, leaving faint streaks of precum. Sweat beaded on their skin, the air thick with the musk of sex and pine. Zack’s groans turned guttural, his hips bucking up to meet Kyr’s thrusts. “Oh shit, oh fuck, I’m gonna blow!” he yelled, hands clamping onto Kyr’s waist.

“Me too!” Kyr cried, slamming down one last time as Zack’s cock hit his prostate dead-on. They erupted together—Kyr’s cum shooting in wild, hot ropes across Zack’s chest, chin, and the sheets, his thin dick twitching with each spurt; Zack’s orgasm exploding with such force that Kyr felt every pulsating pump, the thick, hot jets blasting inside him with a relentless intensity that stretched his walls. The sheer power of it stunned them both, Zack’s release surging longer and harder than ever, leaking out around his shaft in a creamy mess, dripping down his balls as Kyr’s ass clenched with every forceful spurt.

They collapsed, sweaty and sticky, Zack’s softening cock slipping free with a wet pop and a loud, mortifying fart from Kyr. His face flamed, but Zack’s laughter rumbled beneath him, warm and genuine. Zack pulled him close, kissing him slow and deep, tasting the salt of their exertion. “How was it?” Kyr murmured, voice hoarse.

Zack smirked, brushing a thumb over Kyr’s swollen lips. “Give me twenty minutes, and we’ll try another position.”

Kyr grinned, nestling into Zack’s chest. “There’s so many positions, bro. We’ll be at it all night.”

Getting Close

Jack looked at him a moment, then said, “Sure, have a seat.” He shifted on the sofa and Matt sat down. Then Jack said, “I get the feeling you don’t approve of the way I do things.”

Not surprised that Jack took a head-on approach, he said, “I wouldn’t say that. The way you manage all the investment groups is amazing and you give us freedom and, as you know, this had had results. We’re making some amazing profits.”

With a nod, Jack said, “You are. It’s impressive.”

Then Matt knew he had to make his pitch, but he wasn’t sure what form it would take. “But Jack…the sexual freedom between us all is awesome. There’s no doubt about it…” And he ran his hand up Jack’s leg, just below his balls and stopped. Jack’s skin was warm. “But I’ve discovered that it’s not just about sex, is it? At least not for me.”

With that he slid a little closer to him so their legs were touching. Jack had a strange look on his face as if he wasn’t sure what Matt was doing. He ran his hand from Jack’s thigh, lightly over his balls, then over his cock, then continued up his flat belly to his strong chest with all kinds of trimmed dark hair, to Jack’s face. He traced the outline of his jaw. He finally said, “It’s about this…”

He leaned over and his lips met Jack’s very softly, then a little more firmly, then he opened his mouth and Jack responded. He let his tongue slide into Jack’s mouth and again Jack responded, their tongues soon wrapping all over each other. Jack tasted of coffee.

At first he couldn’t believe he was doing it. Partly because he realized he wasn’t that turned on by Jack but knew that had more to do with resenting him than whether or not he was actually attracted to him. But now, his mouth learning all kinds of things, he felt himself becoming turned on. Really excited. He but his hand on Jack’s chest, exploring one of his nipples, pinching it, running his finger over it. Jack moaned into his mouth. He leaned closer and pushed Jack down so he was lying on his back on the sofa. Matt got on top of him and their bodies met, from their cocks to their mouths.

Matt started to grind against him, and Jack responded, and their dicks pushed against each other while they kissed, Jack’s bigger, thicker prick feeling strong and exciting against his own.

Matt had sucked Jack’s cock before and didn’t think he needed to – not right now – but instead, taking a chance, he pulled his body forward until his own dick – dripping now, and hard as iron – was right over Jack’s face. And the chance he took was to push the head into Jack’s mouth who, to his amazement, let him. In fact pulled it into his mouth so Matt’s cock was engulfed and warm, and he felt Jack’s tongue digging into the cleft just below the head.

“Fuck Jack, your mouth feels amazing on my cock.”

Jack just moaned. Matt wasn’t sure how this was possible. Jack was taking his dick. He pulled out of Jack’s mouth and leaned down and they kissed more, with more energy. Then he took the chance that he had wanted to take all along. He leaned back and slipped his hand between Jack’s legs and nudged a few fingers against his hole.

Jack seemed surprised, but let him. “Jack…I’m going to fuck you. And I think you’re going to let me…”

He pushed Jack’s strong legs apart, admiring all the curly black hair around his cock, his muscular fucking cock that was, he realized, beautiful. He leaned down and sucked on the head while his fingers continued to press against Jack’s ass, then they gradually slipped in as he tasted the juices flowing from his hot piece of flesh.

Matt sat up and spat on his cock which was still slick from Jack’s mouth and pressed it at Jack’s hole. Jack made a sound that wasn’t quite a moan but he didn’t stop him. He was going to let Matt fuck him.

As his cock slid slowly in, helped by Matt swivelling his hips, he heard a sound from behind him. He turned and saw Nicholas and Charles with Gene in between them. “Hey, you two. We thought we should join you.”

Matt turned to Jack and leaned down kissing him a few times and said in his ear, “Jack, we’re all with you. We want to be close to you. I want to be close to you.” He started to thrust. He was fucking Jack, and Jack was letting him. Jack’s face had a curious expression as if he wasn’t sure what was happening, but he pulled Matt’s face to his and kissed him back, kissed him properly as Matt continued to slide his cock deep. He felt Jack relax and let him in even more, and he fucked him more smoothly.

Then he felt hands on his ass as it moved and then he realized Andre was getting behind him, pushing his dick into his asshole, so he slowed until Andre’s long dick was fully in him so that he could move again, but being fucked by Andre, a position he was beginning to love: being taken while fucking. He kissed Jack more, and Jack wrapped his arms around him and Andre together and they seemed to move as one.

He glanced beside him and Gene was being fucked by Charles while Nicholas was feeding his cock to him, and Gene seemed excited and was making all kinds of sounds. Then he saw Marco come into the room and he came over and slid his dick in between his mouth and Jack’s, running his hands through their hair. No one said anything and the moment felt almost sacred. He felt like Jack was letting himself be shared by all of them, something he hoped for, but hadn’t quiet expected.

With a final few big pushes into Jack’s ass, Matt swallowed Marco’s cock and felt himself explode into Jack, his whole body on fire. Jack said all low and sexy, “Fuck Matt. I don’t let many people fuck me, but that was awesome.” He leaned up and kissed Marco’s cock as it slid into Matt’s mouth just as Marco’s cum started to spew into his mouth, slide down his throat, so much that Matt couldn’t really take it so that some ran out of his mouth, dripping down to Jack, who slurped it up hungrily.

Behind him, Andre started to thrust really fast and Matt let him go, let him push his whole body into Jack’s, fucking fast and deep until Andre cried out, gasping and Matt felt his body tremble behind him, imagining his whole body filled with Andre’s juice.

Andre pulled out and said, “Matt, let’s get him off.”

Matt knew exactly what he meant and they both leaned down to Jack’s big two-by-four of a cock and Matt fisted it while Andre sucked on the end, and soon Jack bellowed, and cum started to blast

Andre’s mouth and then he shared it with Matt and Marco, who were licking the sides, collecting the last few spurts and then in a three-way kiss, traded Jack’s cum between them.

Matt moved up and said to Jack, quietly, “Thanks, Jack. Thanks for this.” And he kissed him for a while. Short kisses, long ones with tongue, longer ones where their lips just moved against each other. When Matt finally sat up, he ran his hand over Jack’s face affectionately.

He looked beside them and Gene was on his back with cum running out of his ass and Matt wasn’t sure whose it was, but he looked happy. Charles and Nicholas were fucking beside him, Charles jackrabbiting into Nicholas’s hole which looked stretched and as he watched Charles pulled out and sprayed cum all over Nicholas’ face, then shoved his cock in his mouth. Soon they were both laughing and kissing. It all felt playful and happy. They were like kids in holiday.

But Matt left the room and went back downstairs and found Tom who was cleaning up. He embraced him and said, “How are you doing? I was hoping you would come and join us.”

Tom turned and kissed him and said, “You taste like cock. Very nice.”

With a laugh, Matt said, “We were busy upstairs.”

Just then, Gene walked in, clearly looking for his clothes. He saw the two of them and gave them a tired smile.

Matt said, “Hey, Gene. Are you doing all right?”

He laughed a little, then said, “As well as you might expect.”

Matt turned to Tom, putting his arm on his shoulder. “Tom…why don’t you take Gene home and give him some tlc. I think he could use it.”

Gene looked suddenly relieved and Tom went over to him, putting his arms around him and kissing his cheek, then turned to Matt. “You know…I think you’re right.”

Matt slid his pants on, and found his shirt. He was tired but satisfied and, more importantly, happy. Happy that Jack seemed to get it, and in fact went with it, letting himself not just be fucked, but welcome all the care and affection that the group had to give.

At their Monday meeting, he greeted his group happily, and they celebrated yet another increase in value of their portfolio that was reaping dividends Matt had only ever dreamed of. He now had a healthy six figures in his house account and could get to half a million in another few months if this kept up.

Just before signing off, he said to them, “So I’m taking a coupe of weeks off, you guys. Rory and I are going away. I’ll see you in August.”

Liam said, “You two are going to fuck for the whole time!”

Laughing, Matt said, “Yeah, and hike. But certainly fuck.”

“I’m envious…”

“Yeah, well, next time, Liam. We’ll have you all sandwiched up.”

They signed off and Matt went to work. His job, at this point, felt empty and pointless. He knew that if the value of their portfolio kept increasing, he could see himself leaving his job and focusing full time on the investments. Jack had done it, Liam had done it. Why couldn’t he?

The resort was perched on a big granite outcropping on Georgian Bay. Matt had never heard of the place before, but Rory had been there before. It wasn’t huge, but very well-appointed and Matt decided he didn’t care how much it cost: they would worry about that when they checked out.

The place itself was made of granite, and had big polished wooden stairs to the upper floors. The lobby was big and smelled of pine. It had pine beams on the ceiling and the reception desk was long and was also polished pine. They got their room key from a nice guy who, Matt was sure, gave them both a look, and went upstairs.

They had booked the biggest room they could afford which overlooked the water, with a big deck off the main room with lounge chairs. Once in the room, Rory immediately threw Matt on the bed and kissed him, while sliding his hands in his pants, which Matt quickly shucked. They were naked fast, and Matt, feeling hungry for Rory, pushed him down on the bed and lapped at his dick, squeezing his balls, and getting his mouth all over his pale pubic hair, sucking on each ball. Not to be outdone, Rory tugged at Matt’s legs and pulled him over so he could do the same and they simultaneously sucked each other deep, finding a nice pace where their hips thrust so they could take each other’s cock deep.

Matt felt the weeks of longing for Rory start to fade into pure love and with just as much lust. He pulled Rory over so his mouth was being fucked, while he slid his fist over Rory’s cock at the same time. Rory was jacking his fast and Matt, his mouth full of Rory’s hot muscle, started to moan. He shut his eyes from all the sensation but he was desperate to cum, and he wanted a mouthful. He started to swivel his hips up into Rory, his cock going deeper. Rory held onto the base of his cock tightly and Rory’s was almost choking his he was fucking so hard into his throat.

Matt squeezed his eyes tightly shut as something overwhelming happened in his body and at the same time he felt Rory’s cum start to stream into his throat. He growled and swallowed and came at the same time, feeling Rory jack his cock and he felt his cum spurting. He could hear Rory groaning and swallowing, then sucking the last few spurts as Rory’s cock calmed down, just a light drool of more liquid cum running over his tongue.

Breathing heavily, Matt pushed Rory off him and turned around and kissed him for a while, slowly and deeply, reminding himself of the taste of him, the feel of his tongue, the strength of his arms as they wrapped around his body, massaging his back, kneading his ass that he knew would be fucked later. But right now, all he wanted was this: closeness and ease. He pulled away and Rory said, “Fuck Matt. I’m totally falling for you. Like really. Love and all that.”

Matt laughed and kissed Rory’s nose. “Yeah. Me too. Love! I love you. It feels awesome.”

They both grinned at each other and Matt also loved that he felt like an idiot or a teenager or both and that was just the right thing. He could still taste Rory’s cum and he never wanted to stop tasting it. He liked cum – almost anyone’s – but Rory’s was the one that felt like more. It was part of him. And now it was in Matt. He smiled.

Rory said, “What are you smiling about?”

“Oh, just how much I love having your cum in my body – and not just my ass.”

With a laugh, Rory said into his mouth, “I feel the same way. I have a belly full of Matt.”

They dozed for a while after pulled the light blanket over them and watched the sun get a bit lower over the insanely blue waters of Lake Superior.

They finally got hungry and found some clothes and and went down to the restaurant which was, Matt realized, very high end. Not so much in atmosphere, but looking at the menu, he knew this was food into which a lot of care was taken. And the prices certainly indicated it as well. But he wasn’t going to pay any attention to the prices.

Their server was a young woman who joked with them, but also was smart and informative and they gave her a big tip.

They left the restaurant a little tipsy and as they walked past the front desk the same guy was there. He was tall and dark and Matt decided he must be south Asian. He eyes were bright and he was clearly checking them out.

He said, “I hope you two had a nice dinner.”

Matt grinned and said, “We did, thank you.”

The guy grinned back and he said, “My name is Rami if you need anything.”

Rory looked at him appraisingly. “Well, Rami. We might need you – or your help,” and he looked at Matt for a second, “Tomorrow night. If that’s not too inconvenient.”

With a bigger grin, Rami said, “I think I can arrange that. What time were you thinking. I’m done at six.”

Matt laughed, really enjoying the naked flirtation. “Let’s say eight. That will give us time to have dinner.”

They went upstairs, chuckling and since the hall was empty, Matt slid his hand in Rory’s pants, enjoying the softness of his strong ass, funning a finger up between his cheeks. Rory’s moaned and opened the door.

They tore off their clothes again, and this time Rory pushed Matt onto the bed. He got some lube from his bag and said, “I want to do this properly and take my fucking time. We have all the time in the world, right?”

Matt stroked his own cock, excited. “Yeah, we do. And tomorrow we can have some fun with Rami. How nice is that?”

Rory got on the bed and said, “I want you from behind so I can fuck you into the next room.”

Matt jumped up and got on all fours. Rory slicked up his tool with lots of lube, then slid some slippery fingers into Matt’s hole, who groaned. Rory spent some time, digging deep, and Matt squirmed and wined, wanting Rory’s cock. “You’re torturing me…”

“Yeah, that’s the idea.”

But Rory finally moved forward and slid his dick in. It went smoothly, now that he was lubed up, and he very slowly – achingly slowly – pushed all the way in. He kissed Matt’s back, then just as slowly pulled out. He pulled out all the way and Matt felt he was going to go crazy when he just as slowly pushed himself back in.

“Fuck, Rory. That’s awesome…but it’s making me nuts.” Matt took hold of his cock and very gently let it slide through his fist, watching a long, shiny drop of precum drip out onto the bed. He felt Rory kiss the back of his neck. Rory pulled him up so he was on his knees and put one of his arms around his chest and fucked with a little more force while pushing Matt’s hands away from his cock so his could grip it with his other hands, running his finger over the head.

He felt Rory’s lips on his ear. “I have never wanted to fuck anyone as much as I want to fuck you, Matt.” He seemed to be turning himself on with his own words, because he started to move faster and Matt shut his eyes as little explosions were going off in his body, and his skin felt like it was glowing, his cock felt like it was on fire in Rory’s hand.

Rory leg go of his cock and drew it over his chest with the other one, giving his nipples some attention with his fingers, tweaking and pinching. Matt started a low sound in the back of his throat. He wasn’t touching his dick, but he could tell that something magical was happening in his balls that somehow radiated to the head of his cock.

“Fuck, Rory…fuck…I love you so much…but this is driving me fucking nuts…”

Rory licked his ear and said, “Good. I want to drive you nuts. Cum for me, Matt. I want to see that cock of yours spew.”

With that Matt started to make a louder sound and his dick got all hard and rigid and he cupped his hand over the head and his body felt like it exploded and went numb at the same time. A long gush of cum spewed out into his hand. It was like he had produced more semen than ever. It filled his hand and he brought it to his lips and slurped, then went back for more. It was running off his chin and back onto his cock. He shut his eyes and he couldn’t breath.

At that moment, he felt Rory rear back and fuck him three times so hard he almost fell over and he was choking and swearing behind him. He felt cum dripping out of his ass around Rory’s cock as he licked the last of his own off his fingers.

He opened his eyes and fell forward, letting Rory slide out of him and he tuned on to back. He looked up at Rory who seemed frozen, his eyes shut, his cock wet and red and drooling a long rope of cum onto the bed. He leaned forward and lapped it up, then pulled Rory down on top of his. Their cock, their chests, their legs, were all in contact. They were hot and sticky, sweaty and exhausted.

Rory finally kissed him and said, “Matt. That was the best fuck I have every had.”

Matt kissed him, feeling overcome with happiness, love, post-orgasmic bliss and everything in between. He kissed Rory’s ear finally and said, “Yeah. It was.”

Matt pulled the sheet over them and they pulled each other closer and he realized Rory had already fallen asleep. He kissed Rory’s forehead and tucked his nose under his chin, smelling his body – that smell that only Rory had – and fell asleep.

The dining room was quiet since they got down to breakfast laster than everyone in the hotel, it seemed. Once they got their coffee and ordered, they both drank water in big gulps. Matt finally said, “I think I’m replacing all the cum from last night. I’m dehydrated!”

Laughing, Rory reached under the table and grabbed his cock through his jeans. “You need to replenish. We have a date tonight, remember?”

Matt grinned. “I haven’t forgotten. What shall we do with him?”

“Whatever he wants. He’s fucking cute.”

Their breakfast arrived, delivered by yet another beautiful guy, this time blonds and young. When he left, Matt said, “Cute as fuck, but I think as little on the young side.”

Rory put down his fork. “Are we dirty old men? Have we come to that stage already?”

Matt shrugged and continued to eat his eggs.

They put on hiking shoes and went to the desk where Rami told them about a part not too far away where they could hike along the edge of Georgian Bay. Just before they walked away, Matt said, “We’ll see you at eight, right?”

Rami grinned and nodded. Rory slapped Matt on the ass and said, “Don’t be late.”

They drove to the park and spent most of the day in the sun, climbing the granite outcroppings over the impossibly blue water, enjoying the breeze, the smell of cedar and pine. They got to a little inlet that sloped down to the water and Matt stuck his toe into the freezing water. “Yikes. I guess we’re not going swimming.”

But instead they sat in a flat granite shelf above the water and took their clothes off, sunning and enjoying the clean air. Rory leaned down and sucked Matt’s cock, stroking and slurping out a mouthful, then hiking himself over top of Matt, fucking his face until he spewed cum down his throat. It felt sensual and almost forbidden to be doing it in the outdoors. They saw some hikers from a distance, but otherwise, they were alone.

They ate the sandwiches they brought and drank water from a flask, then packed up, dressed, and drove back to the hotel where they had a long shower together.

They didn’t see Rami at the desk when they went back upstairs after dinner, but once in their room, Matt said, “What do we wear?”

Rory said, “Did you bring those light blue boxer briefs?”

“Oh, right. I did.”

He dug in his bag and pulled them out. He tossed his shorts to the floor and pulled them on. They were tight and hugged in all the right places and his cock was very obvious in them. So obvious he started to get excited and it became more obvious. Rory put on some slinky white briefs that barely contained his meaty cock even when it was soft, which it wasn’t.

They sat on the chairs when they realized it was just before eight and waited. Right at eight, there was a soft knock.

Matt said sweetly, “Come in.”

Rami opened the door and came in. He was in a very tight pair of shorts and and white shirt. He looked at the two of them and said, “So what’s the plan, guys?”

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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Hugo and Declan

Declan Kavanagh grunted as he completed his final rep, the hefty dumbbell feeling like an extension of his arm rather than the sixty-pound weight it actually was. At forty-two, his body defied conventional expectations of aging—instead of diminishing, his extraordinary development had only intensified with each passing year. The compact powerhouse stood just 5’7″, but what he lacked in height, he made up for in sheer mass and proportion.

“That’s it for today,” he announced, his voice carrying the satisfied exhaustion of a workout well executed.

The Oakfield Fire Station gym was empty save for him, the late afternoon sunlight streaming through high windows and casting dramatic shadows across equipment that had seen better days. Most of his colleagues had already finished their shifts, leaving Dec to enjoy the solitude he preferred for his training sessions. These stolen moments in the station’s modest facility were precious—time when he could focus entirely on refining the physique that had become his signature, away from the watchful eyes of his personal training clients.

As he wiped down the bench, Dec caught his reflection in the mirrored wall. The black department-issued tank top clung desperately to his torso, stretched to its absolute limits across pecs so massive they created their own landscape beneath the straining fabric. The deep central divide between them was visible even through the material, a canyon so pronounced it caught shadows despite the bright overhead lighting. His shoulders stretched the garment’s seams to their breaking point, the stitching engaged in a constant battle against the extraordinary width they attempted to contain.

Sixteen years of dedicated training since meeting Hugo had transformed what was once merely an impressive physique into something that seemed engineered rather than grown. The timing wasn’t coincidental—Hugo’s arrival in Oakfield had ignited a competitive streak in Declan that pushed him to previously unimagined levels of size and definition.

He smiled at the memory of their first meeting. Hugo, older brother to Max, had just moved to town to be with David, Declan’s childhood friend who had met the elder Schett brother at a Rockwood Comicon event the previous year. Both Dec and Hugo had been fit then—impressive by ordinary standards—but nothing like the physical anomalies they had since become. Their shared passion for bodybuilding had forged an immediate bond, creating a friendship that had only strengthened over the years.

Dec’s smile widened slightly as he collected his gym bag, remembering some of his encounters with Hugo and David. The threesomes had started innocently enough—at least, as innocently as such arrangements ever begin. David had always been fascinated by muscular men, despite having no interest in building himself up. His average frame had provided the perfect contrast during those nights when the three of them explored the boundaries of their relationship. Dec had discovered his dominant side then, directing the action, orchestrating scenarios where David worshipped Hugo Schett’s extraordinary development while Dec controlled them both. Hugo, who was Max’s senior by eighteen months, had always possessed the same genetic gifts for muscle building that ran in the Schett family.

One night, where David had dressed Hugo in a Green Lantern costume, had been particularly memorable. The bright green Lycra stretched across Hugo’s massive frame, highlighting every striation, every vein, every impossibly developed curve. The memory still had the power to send heat coursing through Dec’s substantial frame, igniting a fetish for ridiculously tight clothing that had remained with him ever since.

But things had changed when David left town. The threesomes stopped, naturally, but Dec and Hugo had continued their friendship, though the dynamic shifted into something less defined. Their muscle comparison sessions had become a regular ritual—competitive yet intimate, charged with unspoken tension that neither man fully acknowledged.

As Dec shouldered his gym bag and headed for the station’s exit, his phone buzzed with an incoming message. Hugo’s name flashed on the screen: Still on for tonight? Garage is all set up.

Dec’s thumbs moved quickly across the glass: Wouldn’t miss it. Be there in 30.

The drive to Hugo’s modest bungalow on the outskirts of Oakfield took Dec through familiar streets. The small town had been his home fall his life, its rhythms and patterns as familiar as his own heartbeat. Unlike Rockwood, where Max and Harry lived, with its busier pace and larger population, Oakfield offered a quieter existence that suited Dec perfectly, allowing him to balance his part-time firefighting duties with his growing personal training business.

Thoughts of the Schetts’ hometown inevitably led to memories of Max. Dec had first met Hugo’s younger brother during one of the Comicon trips he and David would make to Rockwood. While David and Dec attended the convention, Hugo typically spent time with Max. They would all meet up in the evenings, which was how Dec had first encountered the younger Schett brother, though these meetings were infrequent enough that he had never really gotten to know him well. The physical resemblance between the brothers was striking—both possessing the same extraordinary genetic potential, the same platinum blonde hair, the same tendency toward physical perfection.

The traffic incident three years ago surfaced in Dec’s mind as he turned onto Hugo’s street. He’d been attending another Comicon event with David, but had grown bored of the endless panels and merchandise stalls. When he learned Hugo was visiting Max, Dec had joined them for drinks. A couple of hours later, when Hugo returned to David, Declan stayed out with Max for what became had a night of increasingly heavy drinking. Since Max hadn’t initially intended to consume alcohol he had taken his car, but after deciding he would indulge after all, had driven them back to his place from where they would walk to The Chapel. However, en route they had got pulled over for speeding, earning himself a ticket from a particularly moody police officer.

Dec cringed remembering his behavior with the uniformed cop—the alcohol had loosened his tongue and respect for authority. But, after dropping the car at Max’s home, they had continued drinking at The Chapel well into the early morning hours. Dec had a vague, uncertain memory of possibly touching Max’s ass that night—a recollection so hazy he had convinced himself he’d either imagined it or Max had been too drunk to notice or remember.

Since then, their communication had been minimal—occasional texts, nothing more. Dec respected Max’s heterosexuality too much to pursue anything, regardless of how attracted he was to the man. Besides, the distance between Oakfield and Rockwood made anything more than occasional contact impractical.

Hugo’s garage came into view as Dec parked his truck in the driveway. The detached structure had been converted into a fully equipped home gym years ago, creating the perfect space for their private training sessions. Unlike the public gym where Dec worked with clients, or the station’s utilitarian facility, Hugo’s garage offered a sanctuary where they could train without interruption or observation.

“About time,” Hugo called as Dec pushed open the side door, gym bag slung over one massive shoulder. “Thought you might have gotten lost.”

Dec grinned, taking in the familiar sight of his friend. At 44, Hugo Schett was a living testament to what the human body could achieve through genetic blessing and relentless dedication. Standing 6’0″, his frame supported muscle mass that seemed to belong to a different species entirely. His white tank top appeared painted onto his torso, the fabric stretched so completely across his chest that individual muscle fibers were visible beneath the straining material.

“Some of us have actual jobs, you know,” Dec retorted good-naturedly, dropping his bag by the door. “Not all of us can live off our investments.”

Hugo laughed, the sound rumbling through his massive chest. His successful tech investments had allowed him to retire early, focusing entirely on his physical development without the distractions of employment. “You love both your jobs, and we both know it. Stop complaining and get changed.”

The garage was immaculately organized, every piece of equipment positioned for optimal use, weights racked with mathematical precision. The space reflected Hugo’s methodical approach to everything in life, including his physique. A floor-to-ceiling mirror covered one wall, installed specifically for their muscle comparison sessions.

Dec changed quickly, stripping down to the compression shorts he’d worn beneath his regular clothes. The bright blue fabric clung to his lower body like a second skin, mapping every extraordinary curve and contour of development that defied conventional understanding of human anatomy. His glutes, in particular, projected from his frame with such perfect roundness they seemed designed rather than developed—a feature made all the more striking by his compact height.

“Ready when you are,” he announced, moving to stand beside Hugo before the mirror.

For the next hour, they cycled through poses, comparing their development with the critical eyes of men who had dedicated their lives to physical perfection. Despite their different builds—Hugo’s taller, wider frame contrasting with Dec’s compact, dense musculature—both displayed physiques that would have dominated any bodybuilding stage.

“Your shoulders have definitely improved,” Hugo observed, reaching out to grip Dec’s deltoid with appreciative pressure. His fingers dug into the dense muscle, feeling its extraordinary hardness beneath paper-thin skin. “What have you changed in your routine?”

Dec flexed under the touch, the muscle hardening further beneath Hugo’s exploring fingers. “Added those behind-the-neck presses you suggested. Made all the difference.” He returned the contact, his hand moving to squeeze Hugo’s massive pec, feeling the unyielding density beneath his palm. “Still can’t compete with this chest though. Genetics are a gift.”

Hugo grinned, bouncing his pecs with deliberate control, making them dance beneath Dec’s touch. “Schett family special,” he quipped, referencing the extraordinary chest development that seemed to run in his family line. “Max and Harry got the same blessing.”

The mention of the other Schett men created a momentary shift in the atmosphere, a subtle charge that neither acknowledged directly. Instead, they continued their comparisons, hands moving over extraordinary development with confident familiarity, measuring progress, acknowledging improvements, offering critiques with the honesty of long-established trust.

“Turn around,” Hugo instructed, shifting to examine their posterior development. “Let’s see if those Romanian deadlifts have done anything for your back.”

Dec complied, presenting his extraordinarily developed back for inspection. The muscles formed a mountain range of peaks and valleys, each fiber visible beneath skin that seemed stretched to its limits by the sheer volume of mass it contained. Hugo’s hands moved across this display with appreciative precision, fingers tracing the deep cuts between muscle groups, testing the rock-hard density, acknowledging progress.

“Impressive,” Hugo murmured, his touch lingering slightly longer than necessary. “But I think I’ve still got you beat on lat spread.”

Dec laughed, turning back to face the mirror. “Keep dreaming, big man. My symmetry is better and we both know it.”

Hugo’s eyes dropped to Dec’s lower body, to the blue compression shorts stretched across thighs so massively developed they forced his stance naturally wide. His hands moved to grip Dec’s quads, fingers pressing into the dense muscle that barely yielded under the pressure. “These are coming along nicely,” he observed, feeling the separate heads of muscle tensing beneath his touch. “Those hack squats are working.”

Dec flexed them on cue, the muscle groups bulging beneath the thin fabric, creating deep valleys and ridges that seemed to defy anatomical possibility. “Years of heavy lifting,” he explained unnecessarily, both of them well aware of the effort required to build such development.

“I still maintain you’ve got the best glutes in Oakfield though,” Dec commented, eyes moving to Hugo’s lower half. “Possibly the state.”

Hugo smirked, turning to display the feature in question. The white gym shorts clung to his perfectly rounded posterior like they had been vacuum-sealed to his skin, the fabric strained to its structural limits. “Though yours give mine a run for their money,” Hugo added, glancing at Dec’s reflection in the mirror.

Their banter continued as they worked through more comparisons, each compliment carrying a subtle undercurrent of something deeper, something neither man directly addressed. This had been their pattern since David’s departure—appreciation that bordered on worship, competition that verged on flirtation, all contained within the safe parameters of their established friendship.

Eventually, Hugo glanced at his watch. “Protein time,” he announced, reaching for a towel to wipe the light sheen of sweat from his extraordinary development. “Kitchen’s stocked.”

Dec nodded, grabbing his phone from the bench before following Hugo into the main house. The kitchen was as meticulously organized as the garage gym, everything in its place, surfaces gleaming under recessed lighting. Hugo moved with surprising grace for someone of his massive proportions, collecting ingredients for their post-comparison shakes with practiced efficiency.

While Hugo prepared the drinks, Dec settled against the counter, opening his Facebook app to scroll through updates. The familiar blue interface filled his screen, populated with the usual fitness-related content, occasional fire department announcements, and updates from friends.

Then he saw it.

His thumb froze mid-scroll, breath catching in his throat as the image registered in his consciousness. The photo showed what appeared to be a human furniture arrangement in a bar setting. Most striking was a figure on all fours, wearing neon green compression shorts that strained obscenely against glutes of extraordinary development. The fabric appeared moments from surrender, stretched so completely across twin hemispheres of muscle that it revealed more than it concealed.

But it was the caption that truly captured his attention:

“Best night of my fucking life! Which item of furniture would you like to see this straight guy used as next? Answers to Ethan Thomas.”

The post had been shared by Harry Schett.

“Hugo,” Dec called, his voice tighter than intended. “Take a look at this.”

Hugo paused his shake preparation, wiping his hands on a nearby towel before accepting the phone. His brow furrowed as he studied the image, tilting his head slightly as if the changed angle might provide better clarity.

“Is that Max?” Dec began.

“Max? It can’t be, I mean what would Max be doing— ,” Hugo finished, zooming in on the partially visible figure. “Fucking hell Dec, I think it is. Woah!” His expression registered surprise more than judgment, his eyebrows lifting toward his hairline. “Definitely looks like his build. And those shorts—he does love his bright colors.”

Dec nodded, his mind racing with implications. “Max,” he repeated, the name emerging with unintended reverence. “Fucking hell, he looks hot like that.”

The observation escaped before he could filter it, hanging in the air between them. Dec quickly added, “I mean, if it is him.”

Hugo raised an eyebrow, returning the phone with deliberate casualness. “Not sure if I should feel sick or complimented, given how often people mistake us for twins.”

Dec grinned, recovering his composure with the ease of long practice. He delivered a playful but firm smack to Hugo’s ass, the perfect muscle barely contained by the white gym shorts. “Oh definitely a compliment, big man,” he assured him. “I have two words for you: Green Lantern.”

Hugo laughed, the sound genuine despite the strangeness of the situation. He took the comment as it was intended—good-humored banter between friends, a compliment wrapped in casual delivery.

“We should go visit,” Dec suggested suddenly, the idea forming even as he spoke it. “Max and Harry. It’s been ages since we’ve been to Rockwood.”

Hugo raised his eyebrow again, returning to the protein shakes. “They’re both straight, Dec. Don’t get any ideas, I know you too well.”

“That’s not why,” Dec protested, though he couldn’t entirely deny the attraction he felt toward the younger Schett men. “I genuinely like those guys. Besides, it would be good to get out of Oakfield for a bit. Change of scenery.”

Hugo considered this as he finished preparing their drinks, handing one to Dec with a thoughtful expression. “Why not?” he finally agreed, reaching for his phone. “I’ll text Max, see if next weekend works. Been too long since I’ve seen my little brother anyway.”

As Hugo composed the message, Dec took another look at the photo, zooming in on the figure in the neon green compression shorts. If it really was Max, something significant had changed in the usually reserved, straight-laced gym owner’s life. The position, the context, the public display—it all suggested a transformation Dec wouldn’t have thought possible.

His mind raced with possibilities as he sipped his protein shake, watching Hugo complete the text to his brother. Whatever was happening in Rockwood, Dec suddenly felt an urgent need to witness it firsthand. The anticipation of seeing Max again after so long—especially this apparently new version of Max—sent a pleasant shiver racing through his substantial frame, directly to the rather substantial package that was becoming more pronounced with every mention of the Rockwood Schetts.

For both Hugo Schett and Declan Kavanagh, next weekend couldn’t come soon enough, but perhaps for different reasons.

Seeing Scott standing at my door immediately reminded me of those letters between him and dad. Scott had always been a good-looking man, and I could see why dad was attracted to him. If I’m being honest, it’s the same reason that I am so attracted to Dylan.

Scott repeated himself, “Caleb, where is my son?”

I asked, “what makes you think I know where he is?”

He said, “because I know he has been spending time with you. I talked to his landlord, and he told me you helped him move out of his apartment. So, stop playing dumb with me.”

I sighed, “I will let him know that you want to talk to him. He can decide if he wants to talk to you.”

He glared at me, “listen here Caleb, you will not stop me from seeing my son. I will decide what’s best for him.”

I narrowed my eyes and said, “Dylan is a grown man, he can decide for himself what’s best.”

Scott’s face was turning red, “you mean like being a cook in some greasy kitchen. He has a better job than that, I need to see him so that I can tell him that.”

I shook my head, “so you can tell him that? Have you ever stopping telling him things and just listen to him?”

He asked, “what the hell are you talking about? I listen all the time.”

I said, “if you had ever listened to Dylan, you would know that he does not want to work at the brewery. He loves to cook, and he is damn good at it too. He is so much happier now than he was a few weeks ago.”

Scott snarled, “he’s only happy because he has let you pervert him.”

I said, “excuse me?”

He said, “you know what I’m talking about, you are convincing him that he’s gay.”

I took a deep breath, “Dylan was gay long before I came back to town. I suppose you would like him to stay deep in the closet, just like you.”

Scott’s eyes went wide, “what the hell are you talking about?”

I looked him straight in the eyes, “I found the letters my dad wrote to you.”

The color drained from his face, “damn it, I told Mike to destroy those.”

I said, “don’t worry Scott, I haven’t told Dylan, yet. I also haven’t told him about the little stunt you pulled at the bank last week either. I will tell him that you stopped by, and he can decide if he wants to talk to you or not.”

Scott just stared at me speechless, I’m sure he was not used to being talked to like this.

I added, “and one more thing, you tell Dawson, that if he ever lays a hand on Dylan again, he is going to get a taste of his own medicine.”

Scott gave me another questioning look, he asked, “when did Dawson lay his hands on Dylan?”

I said, “the day before we helped Dylan move out of his apartment, I’m sure that was the same day Dawson told you he found Dylan here.”

I saw the anger build in Scott’s face as he turned and stormed off, slamming the door behind him. I was a bit concerned for Dawson’s safety, but I quickly thought that maybe he deserved to have his ass kicked.

I took a deep breath and rejoined the others on the patio. Joey said, “gee boss, we thought you went to brewery to brew those, you were gone so long.”

I said, “sorry, but I had a visitor I had to deal with.”

Eli opened his beer, “yeah, who was it?”

I looked at Dylan and took his hand, I said, “it was Scott Patefield.”

Dylan went pale, he asked, “what did he say?”

I said, “relax, he said we wanted to talk to you. I told him I would give you the message, and you would decide if you wanted to talk to him.”

Dylan asked, “what would I say to him?”

I said, “you don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to. As we suspected, he knows about us. You don’t have to do anything right now, if you decide you want to talk to him later, I will go with you if you want me to.”

He sighed, “so Dawson told him about us.”

I nodded, “yes, but I also told him about Dawson hitting you, that did seem to upset him.”

Eli said, “just take your time and think about it Dylan, you don’t owe him any explanation for anything.”

We continued to offer our support and would let Dylan decide if and when he would be ready to talk to his dad.

We tried to relax the rest of the afternoon, but I could see that Dylan was upset by Scott’s visit. I know he was worried about what he would say to him, he knew that he would have to talk to his dad sooner or later, Waynesboro is a small town, and he was sure to run into him at some point. I thought about telling Dylan about the letters I found, but I wasn’t sure if that would help or make things worse. I really thought it would be best for Scott to tell Dylan about that part of his life.

As we crawled into bed that night, Dylan asked, “should I go talk to my dad?”

I sighed, “I don’t know Dylan, that is something you have to decide. I will back you up if you do. I would be glad to go with you if you want, but if you want to do it by yourself, I understand.”

He shrugged, “it is something I should do on my own.”

I smiled, “if that is what you want, I will support you. Just know that you don’t need him for anything, and you have a place that you are always welcome.”

He smiled, “thanks, thank you for everything.”

He snuggled close to me and we drifted off to sleep. He was making breakfast the next morning as I walked into the kitchen.

I gave Dylan a kiss and asked, “how did you sleep?”

He smiled, “ok, I guess. I’m not ready to talk to dad yet, but I’ll figure it out.”

I nodded, “you know I am here for you, whatever you decide.”

Eli and Joey walked in and said, “so are we Dylan.”

He smiled, “thanks guys, I appreciate that.”

The next two weeks were a whirlwind. We were installing our new filler at the brewery, and I was busy trying to hire the new employees that we would need. Eli and Joey were still expanding our sales area, bringing in 2 to 4 new customers each week. Brad and Jim were working hard on getting the new line running and were right on schedule. At the end of the second week, our first shipment of clear bottles arrived and so did the new labels for our two new beers. We would start the new line up on Monday.

Eli had talked to Joey about moving in with us and he agreed. They moved out of the guest room and into my dad’s old room, it was bigger and had more closet space. Geno was also giving Dylan more freedom with the menu at the restaurant. He even hired another cook and promoted Dylan to head cook. He had wanted to step back a bit and take some time off, Dylan had earned his trust so that he now felt comfortable doing that. With Dylan’s extra duties at the restaurant, and me working on the new line, Dylan and I hadn’t been able to spend much time together. We mostly had just woken up together and talked over breakfast. I was usually in bed when he got home each night, and he was always at work when I got home.

I worked late on Saturday making sure the new line was going to be ready to start on Monday. I was going to try to stay awake until Dylan got home, I fell asleep on the couch. I woke up when he sat next to me.

He said, “hey, were you waiting up for me?”

I smiled, “I was trying to, I guess I failed.”

He pulled me to my feet, “come on, let’s go to bed.”

We climbed into bed and talked about our week for a few minutes, Dylan was soon sleeping with his head against my chest. I sighed, “oh well, I’m tired too.” Within minutes, I too was sleeping.

I woke the next morning, the sun shining through the window. As I gained my bearings, my morning wood felt warm and wet. I looked down to see Dylan smiling up at me, his lips wrapped around my cock. I grinned, “what a nice way to wake up.” He moved up so we could share a kiss, his hard cock rubbing against mine. I wrapped my arms around him as we continued to kiss and stroke each other. We moved so that our aching cocks were pointed at each other’s mouths, and we were soon connected as one. I could wake up every morning like this. My hands found Dylan’s firm ass, I kneaded his fleshy mounds as I let a finger move toward his sweet pucker. Dylan was squeezing my cheeks as well. We continued to suck each other and soon each had a finger buried in each other’s holes. I couldn’t take it any longer, I released Dylan’s cock and spread my legs wide. He immediately moved down and began to lick and suck my hole, covering it in his spit. He gave my cum-filled nuts some loving between licks of my pucker. Dylan then gave my cock another suck before he kissed his way up my torso as he aimed his pole at my entrance. He kissed me as he slowly sank inside of me. My eyes rolled back in my head when he bottomed out and hit my sweet spot. He smiled at me as he began to piston in and out, sending me into orbit. He was hitting all my buttons as I grabbed his ass, pulling him in deep as a I could. I wrapped my legs around his waist, not wanting to risk him slipping out of me. We continued to kiss as Dylan kept up his assault on my ass. I felt his breath quicken and the head of his cock swell deep inside me. He let out a deep grunt and his seed whitewashed my love tunnel, filling it to the brim. Dylan collapsed on top of me as he tried to catch his breath, and his deflating manhood slipped from my used hole.

I gave him another kiss and pushed him onto his stomach, putting a pillow under his waist. I smiled at his perfect ass pointed up at me. I kissed each cheek and then moved on to my ultimate target. Dylan sighed as my tongue found his hole and I pushed in. Once I had him wet, I climbed on top of him and began to push in as I kissed the back of his neck. Dylan began to meet my thrusts, squeezing his ass muscles around my over stimulated cock. I lost all control and sent my baby batter deep inside Dylan. We kissed as we came down from our post-orgasmic high.

Dylan smiled at me, “good morning.”

I chuckled, “good morning to you too, that was a nice way to wake up.”

He said, “I feel bad that we haven’t had much quality time lately, so I thought…”

I gave him another kiss, “that was certainly the best quality time I have spent with anyone.”

We took a quick shower and dressed, we went to the kitchen to find Eli and Joey grinning at us as they were making breakfast.

Eli said, “well, good morning love birds.”

Dylan blushed, “sorry, were we being too loud?”

Joey chuckled, “no worries rich boy, get it whenever you can.”

Of course, we had to endure some more teasing over breakfast, but it was worth it. We cleaned up the breakfast dishes and all headed out to sit around the pool. With the new line starting up this week, I knew it was probably going to be the last day to relax before BoroFest.

We got to the brewery early on Monday morning. The original line was already running, and Hal and Brad were starting the new line. It took at least two hours to get the new filler to start, and the rest of the day to get more of the bugs worked out. We had our first pallet of our summer beer bottled by the end of the day. We would have liked to have had a bit more filled, but we were on our way. By the end of the week, we had the new line running well. We would need to make a few more adjustments, but we were soon building our stock for the festival.

We had two more weeks before BoroFest. We had added more employees, and Tom had finished all the partnership paperwork. I met with Hal, Brad, Ed, Rick, Joey and Eli and we discussed all the progress we had made.

I thanked them for all their hard work and decided it was time to give them the titles they deserved. I made Hal the Plant Manager, in charge of the day-to-day operation of the plant. Brad was our new Maintenance Manager in charge of all maintenance. Ed was now the Production Manager, making sure the floor ran efficiently. Rick was the Quality Manager and our R&D head, he was responsible for making sure our beer was of a consistent quality and developing new beers. Joey was our Distribution Manager, making sure all the right products went to the right customer. Eli, of course, was the Sales and Marketing Manager.

We had also hired Wendy as our Office Manger to handle paying our bills and invoicing all the new customers that Eli and Joey had added. She was a coworker of Diane, Hal’s wife. She and her husband had just had a baby and after she finished her maternity leave from her old job, the company had eliminated her position. So, like my grandpa, I took in another stray, and once again, she was a perfect fit and was very good at her job. I let her set her own hours as she worked out daycare for her new baby.

Over the next week, the second line was humming, and our warehouse was filling up with Malloy Light and Malloy Summer Ale. I just hope all the festival goers were going to like them. I invited Mom and John to come stay with me and attend BoroFest, they were looking forward to it and even wanted to help sell beer during the festival. They were coming to town on Wednesday, we would be setting up on Thursday as the festival was starting on Friday.

I had been so busy in the brewery that I hadn’t thought about Scott Patefield since his last visit. Dylan hadn’t brought it up either, I assumed he wasn’t ready to face his dad yet. Wednesday morning, I was a bit surprised when Wendy knocked on my door.

I smiled, “hey Wendy, what’s up?”

She gave me a worried look, “Scott Patefield is here and would like to see you.”

I took a deep breath, and said, “ok, send him in please.”

I forced a smile as Scott walked into my office, I said, “good morning, Scott, what can I do for you?”

He said, “sorry to drop by without calling first, but Jackie and I would like to invite you and Dylan to our house for dinner tonight.”

I didn’t answer right away, he said, “Caleb, we really would like to talk to Dylan, he won’t answer any of my calls.”

I nodded, “I did tell him you wanted to talk to him, but the last time we talked about it, he didn’t seem ready.”

Scott sighed, “I know, but his mom would like to know that he is alright, she wants to see him very badly.”

I asked, “what about you Scott, do you really want to see him or are you just trying to make you wife happy?”

He said, “I want to talk to him, I need to tell him I am sorry for not listening to him as he grew up.”

I said, “we can’t come to your house tonight, Scott. Mom and her boyfriend John are coming in tonight and we are having dinner with them.”

I could see the disappointment on Scott’s face. Maybe he really did want to try to work things out with Dylan. I said, “give me a minute and I will call Dylan, Wendy will get you a cup of coffee.”

He nodded, “thanks Caleb.” He left my office as I called Dylan.

Dylan answered on the first ring, he had taken today off from the restaurant to make a big dinner for mom and John, I was finally going to tell mom about us. I explained the conversation I had just had with his dad.

He said, “we already have plans tonight.”

I said, “I know, I told your dad that too. But what do you think about inviting your parents to join us?”

Dylan said, “our moms were friends before you moved to Atlanta so I guess it would be ok, but I just don’t know what to say to my dad.”

I said, “I think he has something he wants to tell you, you might not need to say too much. Besides, you won’t be alone with him, we’ll all be right by your side.”

I finally convinced Dylan to agree, I walked out into the office and said, “Like I said Scott, mom and John are coming in tonight and we have plans to have dinner with them. I know mom would like to see Jackie so we would like to invite you to our house and join us for dinner at 7. Dylan has agreed to talk to you.”

He gave me a weak smile, “thank you Caleb, I really appreciate it.”

I shook his hand, “you’re welcome, we’ll see you at 7.”

As soon as Scott left, Eli came running out of his office, he asked, “what was all that about?”

I smiled, “I just invited Scott and Jackie to join us for dinner tonight, with mom and John.”

He asked, “does Dylan know?”

I nodded, “yes, he is going to have a talk with his dad.”

Eli shrugged, “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

I said, “what’s the worst that can happen, we have to throw Scott out?”

Mom and John arrived at a little after 3 in the afternoon. They were impressed with all the improvements we had made since the last time they were here. We were on our way to the house about an hour later, Eli and Joey would be joining us when they finished at the brewery.

I carried mom’s bag in as she said, “wow, something smells good, did you hire a cook, Caleb?”

I chuckled, “no, mom. But there is someone I would like to meet.”

She gave me a suspicious look as Dylan walked out of the kitchen.

I said, “mom, you remember Dylan Patefield?”

She furrowed her brow, “little Dylan? You mean Scott and Jackie’s little Dylan?”

I laughed, “yes mom, that Dylan.”

Dylan smiled, “it’s nice to see you again Mrs. Malloy.”

She said, “you’re all grown up now Dylan, you can call me Kristi.”

I said, “mom, Dylan and I have been seeing each other for a while now, and he has moved in with me.”

Her eyes went wide, “really? That is wonderful, I am so happy for both of you.”

I gave her a hug and said, “thanks mom.”

I introduced Dylan to John as mom asked a million questions. When she finally took a breath, John said, “well Caleb, we have some news for you as well.”

I looked at mom who was standing there grinning as she held up her left hand, showing off her new ring, “John has asked me to marry him, and I said yes.”

I gave her another hug and said, “that is awesome, I might get that little brother after all.”

John’s eyes went wide, “now hold on just a moment, we never talked about that.”

Mom hit my shoulder, “oh don’t pay any attention to him John, he is not getting a little brother.”

I of course, still teased mom as I took her bags to the guest room. I said, “I guess I don’t need to get blankets for the couch, I assume you will want John to share your bed. I suppose I can allow it as long you guys aren’t too loud when you get busy.”

John got into the spirit of things when he said, “why? Aren’t the wall sound proofed?”

Dylan joined in, “yes, they are but we could still hear Eli and Joey sometimes…”

Mom rolled her eyes, “that is enough from all three of you.”

Eli and Joey came home a short time later and we filled them in on the good news as well as the additional dinner guest we were having. I could see Dylan was getting more nervous the closer it got to 7.

I put my arm around him as said, “I’m right here, everything will be fine.” He nodded as he took a deep breath. Mom and Eli agreed to play things by ear and said they would go out by the pool to leave Dylan and I alone with his parents when the time came.

Dylan had dinner all ready by the time 7 arrived. He grabbed my hand when the doorbell rang.

Scott and Jackie smiled as I opened the door, I said, “please, come on in, thank you for coming.”

Scott said, “thank you for inviting us.”

Jackie saw Dylan and started to cry, she wrapped him in a hug as he said, “hi mom.”

When they broke their hug, Scott said, “hi Dylan, it’s good to see you.”

Dylan nodded, “hey dad.”

Scott said, “we brought a bottle of wine, I hope that is, ok?”

I said, “yes, thank you very much.” Mom walked in and gave Jackie and Scott and hug and introduced John and they shared their good news. Mom was always good at easing the tension in any situation. John opened the wine and poured a glass for Jackie and mom, while Eli got the rest of us a beer.

I said, “Eli, why don’t you and Joey show Mom and John the patio.”

He grinned, “sure, but be sure to give me a signal before you come out, we might be skinny dipping in the pool.”

I rolled my eyes as they walked out the door, Dylan still had a death grip on my hand. I said, “we can have a seat in the living room.”

Scott took a drink of his beer and said, “so, you are changing to a clear bottle?”

I nodded, “yeah, we are rolling it out this weekend at BoroFest.”

He said, “the updated label looks great, I’m sure your grandpa would approve.”

I smiled, “thanks Scott.”

He ran his hands through his hair and turned to Dylan, “oh hell Dylan, I just wanted to say that I am sorry.”

Dylan squeezed my hand tighter, he said, “thanks dad, I guess I should have taken your calls.”

Scott shook his head, “I don’t blame you, son, I would have probably done the same thing. I should have listened to you when you said you didn’t want to work at the brewery. Caleb tells me you really like this cooking thing.”

Dylan said, “it’s more than a cooking thing dad, it is what I really like to do.”

Scott looked down, he said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m trying to understand all of this.”

Dylan smiled, “that’s all I ask dad, just listen to me once in a while and see things from my point of view.”

Scott sighed, “I’ll try, I just want you to be happy.”

Dylan said, “I am happy dad, and part of that is being with Caleb. I know you probably hate that, but I think I love him and want to spend the rest of my life with him.”

A tear formed in the corner of Scott’s eye, he said, “I understand that more than you know, son.”

Dylan just stared at his dad as Scott continued, “I have always loved your mom and always will. But there was one time that I was unfaithful to her.”

Dylan looked at me and back to his dad, Scott said, “when you were about 4, I spent some time with someone else.”

Dylan looked at his mom, she had the same death grip on Scott’s hand as he had on mine, he asked, “you cheated on mom?”

Scott nodded, “I guess I did.”

Dylan asked, “what does this have to do with me and Caleb?”

Scott took a deep breath, “the person I was with, was Caleb’s dad, Mike.”

Dylan went limp, not sure what to say, he finally swallowed hard and asked, “dad, are you gay?”

Scott sighed, “I wouldn’t say that I am gay, I think I might be bi, but the only man I have ever been with was Mike. Your mom is the only other person I have ever been with. Like I said, I have always loved your mom, and I regret that I had that weak moment. I had feelings for Mike too and I don’t regret what we did, I just regret that I was already married when I did it. Your mom and I worked this out a long time ago, she has forgiven me, and we are still very much in love with each other. I just wanted you to know that I understand how you feel about Caleb.”

Dylan stood and gave his dad a big hug, all four of us were bawling like babies now. I know it took a lot for Scott to tell his son about his past.

Scott released his grip on Dylan and said, “I just want you to be happy, and from as protective as Caleb appears to be, he wants the same thing for you.”

I shook Scott’s hand and said, “yes sir, he makes me very happy too. I will never do anything to hurt him.”

Scott pulled me in for a hug and said, “you are so much like your father Caleb, and I mean that as a compliment.”

I smiled, “thanks Scott.”

After another round of hugs, we dried our tears and invited everyone else back into the house. Dylan served his meal to rants and raves from everyone, and we all enjoyed a very pleasant evening. Scott and I had a newfound respect for each other and agreed that both breweries could co-exist in Waynesboro.

To be Continued…

After Officer Jenkins drove away, I picked up the shreds of my nightshirt and walked back into the house, my legs feeling like jelly. The coolness of the air conditioning washed over me as I stepped inside, the stark contrast from the hot and sticky outdoors making me shiver. The events of the morning had left me feeling both dirty and exhilarated, and I knew that a shower was in order. The water washed away the sweat and cum, and as the soap slid over my skin, my hand couldn’t help but drift down to stroke my now semi-hard cock, the memory of Officer Jenkins’ touch sending jolts of pleasure through me.

Leaning against the tiles, the hot water cascading down my body, I closed my eyes and replayed every moment in my head. The way his calloused hands had felt on my skin, the sound of his breathing in my ear, the pressure as he filled me up… I couldn’t resist the urge to push back into my hand, letting out a low groan as I worked my cock back to full mast. The walls of the shower echoed with the sound of my fist pumping, each stroke bringing me closer to the edge.

All the time I edged myself, I visualised Officer Jenkins. He was a bear of a man standing over six feet with hands the size of feet and, oh my, his cock truly magnificent standing upright, all eight inches with a girth that would please any man or woman. What a contrast, I thought, when compared to me. I wasn’t that short but when compared to him, my long flowing blonde hair gave me an effeminate look, but I knew that he liked my cock, being very respectable in length and girth although I wasn’t as thick as him. The thing I enjoyed the most was the way he took control when he restrained me.

The shower provided comfort as I came. I leaned against the wall, the water beating down on my back. My knees gave out slightly, the pleasure so intense that it left me trembling. I leaned there for a moment, letting the water wash away the evidence of my excitement before I turned off the faucet and stepped out, feeling both cleansed and more alive than I had in a long time.

I towelled off and decided to dress in just my tighty whities and a white vest, tucking it into my tighty whities, the fabric clinging to my body in a way that made me feel both vulnerable and powerful.

I made my way to the kitchen, the smell of fresh coffee filling the air. I grabbed a mug and sat down on the porch, feeling the warm sun on my bare skin. As I sat there, the quiet broken only by the occasional distant car passing by on the dirt road, I realised that this was just the beginning of something I had never dared to dream of, and I wondered what Officer Jenkins would do next. He liked to be in charge, and I enjoyed being subdued by him and taken. Still, I suspected, he might be an interesting lover who relishes an element of control, and I decided to embrace the role should that be what he enjoys, because I too enjoyed this newfound approach.

After my coffee, I decided to get on with my chores and not really thinking about neighbours and privacy, I remained in my tighty whities and vest because it was getting hot when I had started working. The chickens had to be fed, the horses watered, and the garden tended to. The sweat began to bead on my forehead almost immediately, my tighty whities sticking to my body as I moved from task to task. The fabric grew damp with the effort, the white vest clinging to my chest like a second skin. I worked tirelessly, my body moving in a familiar dance of labour that I had known since I was a child.

By the time the sun was directly overhead, casting a harsh, unrelenting light over everything, my chores were finished. The animals were fed and watered, the garden weeded, and the lawn mowed. My vest was stained with sweat and dirt, the fabric sticking to my skin like a second layer. My tighty whities weren’t much better, the white material now a dirty grey from the dust that had kicked up during my labours and from the soil from the garden as I sat under a tree enjoying the shade, relaxing in the heat of the day.

The sound of a car approaching snapped me out of my thoughts. I wiped the sweat from my brow, my heart racing as I recognised the distinct rumble of his police cruiser. The dust cloud grew larger, and I felt a thrill of excitement as I realised that he was here. I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself as I watched him pull into the driveway.

Officer Jenkins stepped out of the car, his eyes immediately finding me. He took in my state, the sweat-soaked vest and the state of my underwear, and a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Looks like you’ve been busy,” he said, his voice low and filled with a hint of amusement.

I blushed, feeling both embarrassed and excited at his scrutiny. “Just keeping the place in order,” I replied, trying to sound nonchalant despite the way my heart was hammering in my chest as I viewed the man, delighting in his physical power and strength.

He nodded, his eyes lingering on my body. “Well, you’ve certainly been working hard,” he said, the double entendre not lost on me. “But it’s time to take a break,” as he opened the trunk of the patrol car.

I watched, my curiosity piqued as he pulled out a rolled-up leather leash. My heart skipped a beat, and I felt a strange thrill at the sight of it. “What’s that for, Officer?” I asked, my voice a mix of apprehension and excitement.

“You were a very naughty boy this morning, weren’t you, Steve?” he said, his tone playful but with an underlying seriousness that made my stomach flutter. “And naughty boys need to be punished.” He approached me slowly, the leash hanging casually from his hand as if it were an everyday object.

My heart raced as he stopped in front of me, his eyes scanning my body with an intensity that made me feel both exposed and desired. “Naughty boys need to be controlled, Steve?” he declared, holding the leash up for me to see. “I think you need a lesson in subservience. Do you want me to teach you a lesson?”

I swallowed hard, the anticipation making me feel light-headed. “Yes,” I said, the word leaving my mouth before I could think better of it. “I accept I have been naughty and should be punished, Officer Jenkins.”

He nodded, his smile turning into a predatory grin. “Good boy,” he said, his voice thick with approval. He took the leash and looped it around my neck, as I remained kneeling in front of him, pulling it tight enough to make me gasp. “You’re going to need this,” he said, his voice low and commanding. “It’ll help you remember your place. Now, get up.”

I got up, and Officer Jenkins pulled the collar strap, forcing me to follow him toward his patrol car. “Stand there,” he told me as he pulled out of the trunk the police issue prison chains. “These are for you,” he said with a smile beaming across his face.

My heart was racing as he showed me the heavy chains clinking in his hand. I had only seen them on TV, in movies and shows depicting the harsh realities of incarceration. Now, they were about to become a very real part of my life, albeit a consensual and temporary one. The cold metal was a stark contrast to the heat of the day, sending a shiver down my spine as I also realised that my cock was starting to get excited.

Officer Jenkins stepped behind me, his warm body pressing against my back. The leather collar was still around my neck, a constant reminder of his control. He looped the chain around my waist, securing it with a padlock that felt like a brand-new kind of belt, one that signified ownership and submission. His hands were firm but gentle as he secured my wrists with the handcuffs, the metal cool against my skin. The final touch was the ankle shackles, which he attached to the chain that now held my wrists captive.

“Now,” he said, his voice a low purr in my ear, “you’re going to learn what it means to be a good boy. Are you willing to submit to me in this way, because I hope you are.”

I nodded; my throat dry. “Yes, I do.” The words came out as a whisper, but it was all the affirmation he needed. He stepped back to the trunk and pulled out a wooden paddle.

Officer Jenkins showed me the wooden paddle, the wood was smooth and had a glossy finish. It was clear he took pride in his craftsmanship, and I couldn’t help but feel both fearful and fascinated by it. “It’s a beauty, isn’t it? Made it myself. The blade is 4 inches wide, 1/4 inch thick, and including the handle, it’s 3 feet in length.”

I nodded my understanding of his description, my eyes wide with a mix of trepidation and anticipation. He took the paddle and gave it a few experimental swings in the air, the whoosh of air it made with each pass sending a shiver down my spine.

“Have you ever been paddled before, Steve?”

“Yes, Sir, but not since I was sixteen,” I responded while looking at the paddle in his hand.

Officer Jenkins nodded with a knowing smile, “I’m sure you remember how much it stung back then, don’t you?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Well I plan to spank you eighteen times after I have milked and fucked you. Do you like the idea, boy?”

“Yes, Sir,” I replied, my voice shaking slightly. The thought of the pain mingling with the pleasure was intoxicating, and I knew I couldn’t resist, but I also knew it would hurt. Officer Jenkins was the sort of man who wouldn’t hold back from paddling a naughty boy who had distracted him that morning.

Taking the leash, he pulled me into the barn, the smell of hay and earth filling my nostrils as the cool shade enveloped us. The leather strap was tight around my neck, the chain jingling with each step I took. The barn was empty, and the farm equipment lined up neatly along one wall. It was clear that this was going to be my place of punishment, a place where he could have his way with me without fear of interruption.

Officer Jenkins directed me to stand next to a set of hay bales that he had arranged as I stood watching him. The paddle and the tube of lubricant lay on a nearby table, glinting in the dim light. I felt a twinge of fear, but it was quickly overwhelmed by the thrill of what was about to happen. My cock was straining against the fabric of my tighty whities, betraying my excitement.

He took his time undressing, his movements deliberate and calculated. The sight of him disrobing, revealing his six-foot-three-inch muscular body, made me even more eager. His broad chest was dotted with hair, tapering down to a V that disappeared into his Hanes briefs. As he unbuckled his service belt, the clank of the metal sent a shiver down my spine. He hung it on a hook and removed his shirt, revealing a badge of authority and a tattoo of a wolf that seemed to dance across his bicep. His trousers followed, and I couldn’t help but stare at the outline of his cock, which was now clear through the thin fabric of his briefs.

Officer Jenkins stepped closer, his eyes never leaving mine. He reached out and traced the outline of my cock through the fabric of my underwear. “You’re already eager for your punishment,” he said with a smirk. “That’s a good boy.”

He then pushed me backwards onto the hay bale, my legs dangling over the edge, my cock pushing the cotton material of my Fruit of the Loom briefs. And then he started to rip my vest until he was able to throw the ruined item onto the floor. Using his fingernails, he gently scratched my chest, running his hand down until they rested on the waistband of my tighty whities.

And then inserting his fingers into the fly hole of the tighty whities, he ripped them, releasing my cock to stand skywards while he continued to mutilate the cotton fabric until they too, joined the vest on the ground.

As Officer Jenkins took a step closer, the head of my cock brushed against the soft fabric of his briefs, sending a jolt of pleasure through me. He noticed my reaction and chuckled, his hand coming to rest on the back of my neck, his grip firm but not painful. “You’re eager, aren’t you?” he murmured. “Let’s see if you can handle what I have in store for you.”

With that, he dropped to his knees, his eyes never leaving mine as he took my cock into his mouth. The sensation was overwhelming, his warm, wet mouth wrapping around me, his tongue swirling around the sensitive head. He took me in deep, his throat working as he swallowed my length, his hands gripping my hips to keep me in place.

He sucked with a passion that was both surprising and exhilarating, his teeth lightly grazing my shaft as he pulled back, only to take me in again with renewed vigour. His hands roamed my body, caressing my thighs, my abs, and my balls, which were already drawing up tight in anticipation. The sound of his mouth working on me filled the barn, a rhythmic symphony of pleasure that had me panting and squirming on the hay bale.

I watched as his throat bulged with each bob of his head; his eyes closed in concentration. His hands gripped my hips tighter as he picked up the pace, his mouth moving faster, sucking harder. The pleasure was intense, my body responding to his touch in ways I never knew were possible.

I could feel the tension building, my toes curling as I approached the edge. “I’m going to come,” I warned him, my voice strained.

He didn’t acknowledge my comment, stop or even look up. Instead, he swallowed around my cock, urging me on. And with a strangled cry, I came, my hips bucking as ropes of cum shot into his mouth. He took it all, swallowing each spurt with a greedy moan that vibrated through my shaft.

As the last of my orgasm subsided, he pulled away, his lips shiny with saliva and cum. He looked up at me, his eyes dark with lust. “Now that you’re nice and relaxed,” he said, his voice gruff, “it’s time for your fucking,” as he pushed down his Hanes briefs, allowing them to fall onto the floor as he stepped out of them. He reached for the lubricant, squeezing a generous amount into his palm before smearing it over his hard and twitching cock. “Turn over, boy,” he ordered, his voice leaving no room for argument.

I obeyed, my heart racing as I felt the cool tip of his cock press against my hole. He took a deep breath, and with one swift motion, he pushed inside me. Even though he was lubricated, the pain was intense as I gritted my teeth and pushed back into him, demanding his length fill me, his hands gripping my hips to steady us both.

He began to thrust and pump me, his movements powerful and unyielding. Each stroke sent waves of pleasure and pain crashing through me, and I knew that this was only the beginning. The paddle lay forgotten on the table, a testament to how quickly things had escalated between us. The metal handcuffs and chain dug into my skin as I held onto the hay bale for dear life, my body rocking with each of his deep, punishing strokes.

The smell of the barn, the feel of the hay prickling my skin, and the sound of our bodies coming together filled my senses. His breath grew ragged, his grip tightening on my hips as he fucked me hard, the chains jingling with each movement.

Officer Jenkins was relentless, his hips slamming into me, his cock hitting my prostate with each thrust. I could feel my orgasm building again, my body betraying my mind with its insatiable hunger for more. “You’re going to come for me again,” he grunted, his voice low and commanding.

I was unable to nod agreement or form words in response to his order as he hit that g-spot over and over again. The pressure grew until it was unbearable, and with a scream, I came, my cum spurting onto the hay beneath me, mixing with the sweat that coated my body. The sensation was intense, a white-hot pleasure that seemed to fill every inch of me as I lost control.

Officer Jenkins didn’t stop, his strokes growing more erratic as he approached his climax. I felt the heat of his body against my back, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

“You’re mine, Steve,” he growled, his hands digging into my skin. “Say it, boy. Say it.”

“Yours,” I managed, the word a gasp of pleasure.

“Scream it, boy, scream it,” as he pounded my arse even harder.

“I’m yours, I’m yours,” I screamed, my throat feeling sore in response.

Officer Jenkins continued to pound my ass with a ferocity that had me seeing stars. The pain was exquisite, each thrust pushing me closer to the edge of oblivion. I could feel his balls slapping against me, the heat of his cock as it plunged in and out of me, the metal of the handcuffs cutting into my skin with every movement. The world narrowed to just us, to just this moment, as he claimed me in the most primal of ways.

The barn was filled with the sound of him fucking me: the slap of skin on my arse, the grunts and moans of effort and pleasure, the clinking of the chains that bound me as he pulled on the leash around my neck, pulling my head back, restricting my airflow.

His breathing grew heavier, his grip on my hips and the leash tightening until I knew he was close, as I began to feel lightheaded. And then, with a loud groan that echoed through the rafters, he came, filling me with his hot seed. The feeling of him releasing inside me was like nothing I had ever experienced before, a sense of fullness that seemed to reach my very soul as he released the leash, restoring my airflow as I panted and strained for breath.

My body trembled as he continued to fuck me through his orgasm, each thrust sending aftershocks of pleasure through my system. His cock pulsed with each spurt, marking me as his, claiming me in the most intimate but rough way possible. The stench of sweat and sex hung in the air, mixing with the scent of the hay and the dusty earth floor.

Finally, he pulled out, the sensation of his cum dripping from my ass making me shiver. He stepped back, his chest heaving, the chains clanking as he moved. “You’re mine now,” he said, his voice hoarse as I just lay there on the bale, my senses overwhelmed.

Officer Jenkins, naked with cum still dripping from his cock bent down and picked up the paddle, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. He stepped closer to me, “Now,” he said, his voice a low rumble, “for your punishment, you very naughty boy.”

I nodded, my body already anticipating the pain that was to come. He raised the paddle and brought it down with a resounding crack across my ass. I yelped, the sting making me jerk forward, the chains holding me in place as he held onto the leash again, restricting my movement. He didn’t give me time to recover before the next blow fell, and then another, each one leaving a burning trail across my skin.

He counted out the strokes, his voice steady and firm. “One… two… three…” I bit my lip, trying to hold in the screams that threatened to escape. “Four… five… six…” With each number, the pain grew, my body jerking and trembling with each impact. The leather leash and chains unforgiving, the sting turning into a throb that grew with every strike. “Seven… eight…”

The strokes grew faster, the pain building until it was all I could focus on. I could feel my ass growing red and hot, the skin stretched taut with each blow. “Nine… ten…” My eyes watered, the world narrowing down to the paddle and the sound of it slicing through the air before it met my flesh. “Eleven… twelve…”

As he reached the final strokes, he paused, his hand hovering in the air. “Ready?”

I took a deep breath and nodded; the word “yes” forced from my lungs. He brought the paddle down again, the final six strokes coming in quick succession. “Thirteen… fourteen… fifteen…” It was too much, and I started to cry and scream out in pain and I then felt the failure of my bladder as the first trickle of piss started to flow with the next stroke of his paddle forcing my bladder to gush warm water onto the hay bale.

By the last stroke, my bladder was empty, I was crying and panting, my body on fire. He set the paddle down and stepped closer, his hand reaching around to cup my cheek, his thumb wiping away the tears from crying. “Good boy,” he murmured, his voice filled with something I hadn’t heard before: affection.

Officer Jenkins unbuckled the leash and removed the chains, his movements gentle despite the roughness of our earlier play. “You took your punishment well,” he said, his voice softer now. “You’re learning,” as he pulled me up and embraced me in a reassuring cuddle.

I nodded, unable to speak as he cuddled me. My legs were shaky, my ass on fire, but I couldn’t help the feeling of euphoria that washed over me. He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close. I could feel his heart hammering against my chest, his breath warm against my neck.

For a few more moments, he held me, his body pressing against mine, his cock still hard. Then, with a final squeeze, he released me, allowing me to fall backwards onto the hay bale. “I want you to stay like this,” he said, his voice gruff as he ran his fingers over my body. “For when I return this evening to check on you.”

The implication was clear. Our arrangement was far from over. “Yes, Sir,” I murmured, my voice thick with need.

He kissed me, hard and demanding, before pulling away. I managed to sit up on the hay bale, my ass hot and painful but I had to watch him get dressed. As he put on his uniform, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of awe at the power he wielded, not just in this moment, but over me. He was my protector and my punisher, my lover and my master.

When he was fully dressed, he looked at me, his eyes lingering on my naked body. “Be ready for me tonight,” he said, his voice a dark promise. “And don’t even think about touching yourself until I get back. I know it will be a challenge spending the rest of the day naked, but it will be good for you and a constant reminder that an infringement will be punished.”

I nodded; my cock still hard despite the pain I was experiencing. “I won’t, Sir.”

Officer Jenkins, now restored to his uniform, grabbed his keys and strode out of the barn, leaving me alone with the echoes of his footsteps and the lingering scent of sex in the air. As I gathered my torn clothes, I knew that the afternoon and evening ahead would be one of the most intense and exciting of my life, and I couldn’t wait for the next time he would claim me. In the meantime, I had my orders. Remain naked and no wanking otherwise I would be in serious trouble.

Continues in Part Three

I looked at my cellphone, which still had a 22% charge. I’d only checked the time, which glowed dimly on my phone’s screen. It had been an hour and 55 minutes since they’d presumably headed out in pursuit of me. I sat up and stretched, quietly. I was a little stiff after the effort of fleeing, then sitting still for so long. I felt like moving. I wasn’t sure I could find my way back to the cabin – I should have put a pin down in Google Maps before leaving. Though I had no bars for calling, apparently I had enough geolocation data to see my position on the map, and make out a curving route that might be the main road. I figured I would head in that direction. First I relieved myself in a corner of the clearing, spraying down the base of the rock.

“Justin was here,” I said to myself.

I softly padded my way out of the crevice, still irrationally mindful of the noise I was making. As I emerged back into the forest, hands reached out to grab me. Someone punched me viciously in the gut, someone else wrapped a hand around my mouth and pinned my arms behind me.

“Gotcha faggot,” said Riley, triumphantly, into my ear. Finn, ostensibly, though still mostly unrecognizable, took a doubled length of rope, looped it around my wrists, wrapping it around several times to completely restrain my hands in front of me. I was coughing and gasping to get my wind back. He then spoke into his phone.

“Got him.”

They dragged me over to a massive fallen tree trunk and threw me down on my stomach over it. With the other end of the rope binding my wrists, Finn somehow managed to thread it under the trunk and secure my ankles, effectively hog-tying me over a fallen log. A minute later, we were joined by two more, presumably Coach and Nick, though equally unrecognizable in their war criminal get-up.

“I’m going first. I’ve been boned up for over an hour,” proclaimed Finn, pulling down my pants and silks.

“Go for it,” said Coach. “We’re in no hurry.”

Finn released his cock from his pants and smacked my face with it. It was indeed hard. And seeping in pre-cum, which trailed from my lips and to the tip of his hardness as he pulled away. He hopped over the log and knelt behind me. Spit on his tool and shoved it up my unprepared ass.

I shrieked. He slammed his hand over my mouth.

“Shut the fuck up you faggot bitch. We caught you. Now we rape you.”

Those words went right to my cock.

He pulled out and slammed in again. And again. And told me a story, quietly in my ears.

“I have wanted to rape your ass since I first laid eyes on you. Every time I see you my cock bones up in ten seconds. And doesn’t want your permission.”

He said the next part with a mocking voice. “Faggot’s don’t consent. They take what we give them. I just want to feel my cock violating your sweet, tight little ass. And watch you cry. Or moan.”

I couldn’t help myself. I came on the spot.

Riley noticed. “The bitch just came, hands-free. I say everyone needs to make her cum tonight. We’re not done here until that happens.”

Finn pulled his head back and roared, mercifully not deafening me. And released six or seven jets of come up my ass. He punched the back of my head (What was it about this move? Something Finn once said about his game?), then pulled out.

Riley took his place immediately. He proceeded to tell me a different story while he sawed into and out of my ass.

“We made a pact. We’re all gonna fuck you three times at least. I wanna come quickly, so the next two times I last for hours, and rape you until you bleed.”

I was hard again.

Even so, I whimpered, and he shoved his gloved fingers into my mouth, fish-hooking me then trying to make me gag. There was magic in his words, for him. But also for me. He was casting a spell, creating a reality for himself that might finally surpass his darkest fantasies, ones where he didn’t ever have to take no for an answer.

Riley too shuddered and roared, emptying his release deep within my guts, I counted six, seven, eight spurts searing my insides, slamming his muscled thighs into me with each thrust.

When he pulled out, all four worked quickly to free me from the fallen log. They were more alike then different in their commando garb. It wasn’t just a uniform, it was a second skin that bonded them as brothers. Brothers in mayhem, in wanton lust. They freed my ankles, then hoisted the rope securing my wrists and threw it over a nearby bough. Coach hoisted me up and then secured the rope around the tree’s trunk. I was standing on tiptoes awkwardly, uncomfortably.

Coach instructed Nick, “Get his upper half. Hold him tight.”

Nick complied, throwing one arm around my neck in a choke hold, and wrapping his other arm around my torso. For every one of them, it was like I was weightless. Their need fed their strength, their strength crushed any ability I might have to resist.

Coach then hoisted my legs in the air, holding them up and over his shoulders, his arms bulging nicely with the effort. He placed his cock at the entrance to my channel, saying “Shut him up,” before thrusting his rigid member into my hole.

Nick complied, clamping a gloved hand over my mouth. For the umpteenth time, if I’m honest. I was still hard. What the fuck was wrong with me?

Coach was thick. And cruel. And knew how to manipulate his cock to have maximum impact and maximum pleasure for himself. He too had a story to tell.

“Mouthy fucking faggot who’s been a pain in my ass all fucking semester. I can be a pain in your ass too, bitch.”

His words stung. But he shot me a look of pure desire, then slapped me, almost affectionately, on one side of the hand covering my mouth. He too was unreeling a fantasy, in his own way. And like the others, he wasted little time getting off in my ass. I could feel his girthy cock throbbing with its release.

Nick freed the rope that hoisted my wrists above my head. I stumbled to my knees, off balance and not expecting to support my own weight again. He knelt and looked me in the eyes. And hauled off and slammed his fist into my gut. I gasped. Then he cold-cocked me on the chin. I yelped and fell backwards. He flipped me over and pulled my ass up, positioning himself at my back, kneeling over me, covering my back. He thrust in brutally.”

“Not holding back, bitch. We warned you,” he said, steel in his voice.

Finn piped up. “Room for me in there next to you?”

“Dude, no.” Nick stated, firmly. “I’m soloing. We can double up in the next round.”

He spoke softly in my ear. “My fist is next. No tapping out this time.”

“Do you like hurting me?” I whispered to Nick. “For real. Does it turn you on?”

“You have no idea. Makes me harder than steel. I love being in you like this, when you’re helpless. When you’re crying.” He slammed his fists into my lower back. I could only grunt.

He forced me down flat on my stomach. Pinned me, thrust in and came in multiple spurts. “Fuck yeah. Consider yourself owned, faggot.” He punched the back of my head, as he had before, as Finn had only minutes earlier. I came again, in between sobs.

It was not over. I was trussed to a substantial beam or log, suspended by my wrists at one end and knees at the other. We walked for 15 or 20 minutes through the woods before arriving at a makeshift campsite. They worked as a tight unit, silently, as if in combat. I was stripped and spreadeagled on the ground, arms and legs roped loosely to heavy stakes, so they could manhandle and manipulate me to suit their wanton needs.

All four were still obscenely hard under their pants, the skintight material leaving nothing to the imagination, cocks easily pulled out when ready for action.

They took me in pairs, next. Coach fucking my face, brutally, Riley at my ass again, legs held firmly over his shoulders, his arms draped almost casually, holding my knees. Announcing their climaxes at the same time, filling me at both ends with their potent seed. I hadn’t tasted Coach’s before, it was salty, in thick clumps. They tucked their dicks back in their pants and withdrew to the campfire, a dozen or so feet away.

Then Nick insinuated himself under me, one arm snaked around my neck in a chokehold, the other firmly gripping my waist as he slipped his steely member into my channel. Finn got on top, crushing me with his weight, and slid his cock in next to Nick’s.

I wailed and Finn pressed his lips over mine, forcing his tongue into my mouth. He raped my mouth for a minute or so, then covered it with a gloved hand and lowered his head to meet Nick’s lips in another feverish kiss. I came for the third time. I looked over and met Coach’s eyes. He was watching intently. Rubbing his straining member through his pants.

Nick squeezed his arm against my throat, announcing his orgasm bluntly. “Coming.” He let out an enormous sigh of relief.

“I can feel you,” Finn said with awe. “I feel your dick throbbing, and more warmth than even this bitch’s hot wet pussy. Here I come.” He thrust in brutally, trying to reach even further up my boycunt. His tool was probably two inches longer than Nick’s girthy member, and I felt him breaching an inner ring.

They stayed in me, remaining hard. I think we fell asleep for five or ten minutes. When I was conscious again, they were moving inside me again.

“This is how you fuck a bitch,” Finn boasted.

“No,” said Nick. “This is how you fuck a faggot.”

“Fuck yeah,” Finn agreed. They were egging each other on, turning each other on. They came quickly. I was spent.

My rapist lovers rolled off and out from under me. Weapons sheathed again, they ambled over to the campfire. It was Coach who freed my arms and helped me sit up. He held a bottle of water to my lips. I drank most of it down.

“You’re a resilient little faggot. You can really take a fuck. And more.” He offered me more water and I finished the bottle. He retied my wrists to the stakes, more tautly this time, so there was no give, then readjust the rope binding my ankles to do the same. He produced a roll of duct tape and tore off a length, slapping it over my mouth. He brought over a small gym bag.

“Playtime,” he announced. The first thing he pulled out were a pair of alligator clips, joined by a small length of chain. He straddled my waist, and applied one of the clamps to my right nipple. The pain was like nothing I’d ever felt before, cutting off the blood to my oversensitive nipple. I shrieked into my gag. He clipped the other end to my left tit, and the pain doubled, perhaps tripled in combination. I was thrashing, but he pinned my shoulders to the ground.

“Settle.”

I took a deep breath and tried to absorb the pain. To meditate with it, into some more manageable form. It began to throb dully, and must have been hardwired to my dick, bypassing my brain, because I was hard again. Jump-started, in a manner of speaking.

Coach climbed off me and pulled a monstrous brown dildo out of his bag of tricks, along with a bottle of lube. He repositioned himself between my legs, slicked up the silicon giant and brought it to my hole, pressing in slowly, but insistently.

“Take it, faggot. We need to open up your cunt.” With military precision and equal determination, he shoved it in further and further, gradually working it all the way in, to the hilt. Amazingly, I took it. I was panting, though.

He was staring into my eyes, holding my gaze. Communicating his twisted pleasure.

With no warning, he yanked the chain connecting the tit clamps up and off. The sensation was ten times worse as blood returned to my sensitive nipples. I wept, sobs wracking my body. He rubbed my sore nipples, soothing them, trying to massage away the ache. He reached forward and wiped away tears, before ripping off the tape.

“Nick, you’re up.”

Nick walked over and traded places with Coach, who knelt behind my head. Nick squatted between my legs and pulled the dildo out, slowly, trying not to drag my insides out with it. He wiped it off with a towel from the bag and put it away. He removed the army gloves and pulled out a pair of black nitrile gloves, which he slipped onto his strong hands and fingers.

“I’m not—”

Coach slapped his hand over my mouth and pinned my head in a vice-like grip between his thighs, knees resting on my shoulders.

Nick proceeded to lube up his hand generously, using two fingers to apply it to my relaxed hole. He worked in two fingers, then three, up to the joint, then four, going as far they could.

“Here it comes, bitch. Ready or not.” But he took his time, working the thumb and four fingers in, narrowing them into a bird’s head as he slowly eased them all in, past the knuckles, past the widest part of the hand, until finally, my ass-lips sealed around his wrist.

I was breathing deeply, absorbing the sensation as I had with the nipple clamps, feeling him stretch and turn inside my channel. I felt him nudge my prostate, shooting electric sparks of pleasure to both my brain and my cock, which stood at attention. And then I felt him make a proper fist, pushing in and dragging back out, in gentle strokes.

“Who owns you faggot?” he crowed, in triumph. His forearm was flexed triumphantly, the glove almost disappearing entirely up my ass. I could watch him for hours. The sight of it, combined with the pressure and the stretching caused me to come hands free for the fourth time.

Nick carefully withdrew his fist, which emerged with an obscene popping noise. He probed my hole, massaging it.

“Still tight as a nun’s cunt,” he proclaimed.

Coach removed his hand from my mouth. “Not for long,” he said.

Nick pulled off the gloves, stowed them in the bag along with the lube and put his army gloves back on. They worked together quickly to release me from the stakes and Coach tossed me like a ragdoll over his shoulder.

“Who’s ready for a tag-team foursome?” he called out to the group.

He set me down beside a massive oak tree just outside the circle of the campfire. With more rope, the four worked as a unit, pulling my arms around the tree and tying my wrists together on the other side. They tied more rope around my torso, so my chest was pressed into the tree trunk, then did the same with my knees and calves, so I was hugging the tree, suspended at waist height, my butt readily accessible.

They took turns in my ass, singly, in pairs, tagging in and out, mixing and matching the combinations of dick, sometimes covering my mouth to stifle my squeals of protest, sometimes just letting me moan. I lost track of who was where, no longer recognizing the girth or length of the cocks battering me, particularly when they were doubled up. I came at least once more, maybe twice, sometimes it just felt as if I were seeping cum as my prostate was overworked.

I must have passed out at some point, because I came to as I was being released and set down. Riley picked me in a bridal carry, while Nick wiped me down with a damp cloth, then dried me. I was given more water, then brought into a small tent where I collapsed onto some kind of soft bedding, a pair of open sleeping bags, if I had to guess. Nick and Riley curled around me, protectively, still in their commando outfits. We dropped off to sleep immediately.

Several hours later, when it was still dark, I felt a hand clamp over my mouth and a hard dick force its way into my hole from behind.

Nick whispered into my ear. “I will never get tired of raping your sweet ass, faggot.” After three or four brutal thrusts, he quickly emptied his release in my bowels.

“My turn,” said Riley. He flipped me over on my stomach and stuffed something into my mouth, a sock maybe. It was faintly ripe smelling. He covered me with his familiar weight, those broad shoulders covering my back, arms wrapped around in a choke hold, strong thighs ready to drive his rock-hard weapon into me. He fucked me for no longer than a minute before draining his balljuice in my guts. Still hard, he didn’t pull out. We fell back asleep until the sun came up

I awoke with a desperate need to pee, so I made my way out of the tent, still naked, and found a tree away from the campsite where I promptly relieved myself. As I was shaking off the last drops, I heard footsteps behind me and turned to look. It was Coach and Finn. Once again with massive wood nearly bursting out of their crotches.

I gave a startled cry as they grabbed me, slapping another piece of duct tape over my mouth, and manhandled me over towards their own tent. They tossed me onto the bedding, then threw themselves on top of me, pinning me down on my stomach.

Finn went first. “Never raped anyone as much as this faggot. We’ve been tearing up the bitch’s ass all night.”

When he was done, Coach wordlessly took his place and took his time. He fucked me slowly, but solidly, making every stroke count, until his climax approached.

“Fuck,” he said, pouring his load into me. “This faggot is one great fuck.”

They both quickly went back to sleep, pinning me down with their weight, Coach’s left leg thrown over mine on one side, Finn’s right shoulder and arm, weighing down my back. Eventually I nodded off as well.

Several hours later they had all stripped down and were cleaning up in the outdoor shower behind the cabin. It was solar-heated and the hot water felt like a miracle to my sore muscles. Body paint scrubbed off, faces once more recognizable, we washed each other off and rough-housed like teammates. At one point two or three of them were pissing on my ass and legs, but they just soaped me up and rinsed it off. I should have been exhausted, but I wasn’t.

I was buoyed by this fellowship I’d found. Coach pulled me into a bear hug and kissed me, tongue probing my mouth gently, arms squeezing me with warmth and appreciation. Finn then did the same, thickset arms folding around me, followed by Nick who gathered me in his claw-like grip. Last was Riley, who enveloped me like the golden retriever he was and lapped at my face.

He whispered in my ear, “You’re the best housemate ever.”

Someone had gathered all my clothing at different points in the course of the night, and Nick had snuck a clean pair of sweatpants and a tee-shirt from my closet the day before. The others were all back in their usual attire – no sign of the camo gear to be seen.

I drove back with Nick and Riley, Coach took Finn in his truck.

Riley joined me in the back seat, and pulled me into him, wrapping me in his arms and petting me, my stomach, my face, my chest. We rode in contented silence for a while.

When we were nearly home, I was the first to speak. “Do you know if Coach has ever done anything like that before? Have you ever done something like that?”

“Not me,” Riley quickly replied, “but I’ll do it again in a heartbeat. Even if I do find a girl I like, I’m gonna have to keep a steady diet of faggot.”

Nick spoke up. “I know Coach already told you this. There was a gay kid who was out in my high school who was hot for me and a buddy of mine on the wrestling team. Eye-fucked us constantly. Seemed super submissive. So I told my buddy we should grab the kid and take him to his family’s cabin in the mountain, make all of his dreams come true.”

“Coach told me it was three of you,” I recalled.

“Nah, just two. We were both instantly boned up at the thought of it, but turned out the gay kid was not really into rough play. We didn’t let that stop us, what can I say, we were young and dumb, and having a blast. When it was all over, we persuaded him that it was meant to be fun, said we’d have his back in school and he could suck us off or worship our muscles if he wanted to. Which he did. But I learned to be a better judge of prospective victims.”

“And Coach?” I asked.

“Well, Coach knew about that incident. Told me he had a cabin also, and we should plan on playing there sometime, if we could find the right ‘unwilling’ participant. As I’ve said before, guys talk. They make shit up, brag about the sex they’ve had or want to have, spin their fantasies.

“We talk tough, and a few of us talked about finding a faggot to smack around, gangbang, whatever. It’s mostly bullshit. But Pedro and I would hang out a lot at the athletic center. And he told me he had a housemate that he really wanted to get alone some night and have his way with. I knew he wasn’t talking about the girls.

“He pointed you out once, and I knew right away. Told Coach I’d found a possible candidate. And then lockdown happened. And you kind of fell into our laps.”

I digested the information as Nick pulled up in front of the house.

It popped into my head all at once. “How the fuck did you guys find me so quickly?”

It was Riley who spoke up. “Duh, dummy. Coach gave you his phone as a ‘back-up.’ We had you on ‘Find My’ the whole time.”

I knew when I’d been played. We piled out of the jeep and got on with our week.

* * *

The spring term was drawing to a close. I wasn’t sure what everyone’s plans were for the summer, or the fall term. But we decided to throw a party. Just us. I suggested a toga party, and Jackson responded enthusiastically.

“YES!! A Roman-themed party!”

“Is that different from a toga party?”

“Yeah, we’re gonna do a gladiator party. Gladiators and slaves.”

“Who are the gladiators and who are the slaves?”

“Bitch.” Ethan laid it out for me. “There’s only one slave. And eleven gladiators.”

Naturally, Jackson and Ethan organized the party. Jackson brought me a toga-cum-tunic that draped over one shoulder, but tied off with a rope belt at my waist, so it had a little more form than you’re average college toga sheet.

Of course, the guys outdid themselves on the gladiator front. Jackson, Ethan and Donovan wore gold breastplates with skirts of gold strips or slats hanging down. Ernesto and Dean had a kind of gold epaulettes that just hugged their shoulders.

Pedro and Rico had found a kind of black feathery sleeve harness that went from their round shoulders down to their elbows, laced with spare black reins that crossed over their chests. But by far the most compelling costume, for me, was sported by Nick, Riley, Finn and Luca.

They had a different variant of the leather gladiator harness, which covered one shoulder, crossed under the other underarm, then wrapped back broadly around the neck back to the shoulder cover. Like the others, it had a skirt of black leather slats.

Jackson kicked off the festivities with a toast.

“Welcome to the first of many ‘Lockdown Theme Parties.’ Tonight’s theme is clearly Gladiator and…”

He paused dramatically.

“Free-use Faggot. Enjoy, share and keep it interesting, my bros.”

Once again, I felt like I hadn’t gotten the memo, and yet, I should be used to this by now.

“Fuck it,” I thought. Let’s see how I can steer this party. For once, I heard the capital F in Faggot. I wore my badge with honor. With pride.

I threw Rico and Pedro a look, and headed into the kitchen. Within seconds, they were on me, hustling me into the laundry room. They spit-roasted me, switching sides several times. Rico forewent a couple of throat-fucks to maul my mouth with his tongue. I came. They came.

Next, I caught Riley’s eye and headed upstairs. I hadn’t even made it to the top of the stairs when he, Finn, Nick and Luca tackled me and manhandled me into my bedroom. They pinned me down and took turns double-fucking me on my bed. First Luca and Riley. Then Nick and Finn. I realized I wanted this each and every day.

A quick shower, and I was down in the basement, flaunting my shit in front of Jackson, Ethan, Finn and Donovan. Donovan was the ringleader for once.

“Let’s run a train on this faggot,” he announced. And they did. To heighten the impact, two would pin me down while one of them fucked me. I was into it. Ernesto and Dean wandered in and took their turns also.

It didn’t end there. I was ‘free-use,’ and their sexual appetites were insatiable. They cornered me in bathrooms. Dragged me out into the backyard. Nick and Dean grabbed me and plowed me in their bedroom. Rico fucked me on the floor of the living room.

Finally Pedro gathered me up sometime around three or four in the morning and took me into his shower. Bathed me, toweled me off, and led me naked into his bed. Where he proceeded to rape me brutally. There is no other way to describe it. Choking me, slapping me, gagging me with his meaty hand over my mouth. Just the way I liked it.

Afterwards, he spoke without ambiguity. “I don’t mind other people fucking you. Or fucking with you. I just need you to remember that you’re mine. You were mine first, and you will be mine last.”

“I know,” I admitted. “Do you think you could share my bedroom when Lexi comes back? I’d like to keep Riley, Rico, Nick and Dean around.”

“What I think,” he said, defiantly, “is that it’s gonna be my bedroom that you’re sharing, bitch. And I know you’re tryna hook up Dean and Lexi, and that’s not the worst idea you’ve ever had.”

I looked at him, completely at a loss.

“Lexi talks to me too, cachorro. But Nick and Riley are gonna want to keep having access to your holes, so we should put them together, maybe give Rico a room of his own.”

“We don’t have that many rooms,” I pointed out.

“Oh, you don’t know yet. Lexi said Susie’s not coming back in the fall. Her parents were in London, and managed to get her there with them before lockdown was fully in place. At least not for people with private planes. She’s going to stay there. She said to give her shit to Goodwill.”

Riley’s going to have something to say about that, I thought. At least as far as her sex toys and frilly garments were concerned.

“What about the other house?” I asked.

“Well, Donovan and Ernesto are graduating. Finn is probably going to follow Donovan where he goes. He can finish his senior year remotely, while they figure out how Donovan handles the next stage of his career.

“That give us some room to recruit some new ‘like-minded’ folks,” he elaborated. “Coach says he has a pair of hot incoming freshmen twins who’ve gotten carried away with some boys in their neighborhood.”

“Define ‘carried away,’” I hazarded.

“Cornered them and fucked them.”

“What sport do they play?”

“Look at you, all interested in sports now,” Pedro teased. “Football.”

“Sign me up,” I sighed, longingly.

“Bitch,” Pedro said, slapping me with force. “You’ve got me. Don’t get greedy.”

“It’s not like I have a choice, is it?”

“Nope,” he said, shoving his turgid member back into my hole. “Not really.”

The desk creaked as it rocked back and forth. Brad gripped the edge of the desk with both hands, bracing himself from the heavy thrusts. He could feel the sweat dripping on his perfectly sculpted body and on his face. He could hear the moans that were barely being held back. He opened his eyes and looked up at the man fervently fucking him, Professor Garry Meyer.

The old man was looking right back at him as he plowed his ass. His fat, ugly face was contorted from both the exertion and ecstasy of the fuck. It was a disgusting sight to behold, and filled Brad with shame. There was only one thing he could think to do at that moment.

Brad smiled, opened his mouth, and stuck his tongue out. Garry knew this was an invitation for him, one he gladly accepted. He lowered his face as close to Brad’s as he could, which wasn’t very close due to his huge gut getting in the way, gathered up the saliva in his mouth and promptly spat the huge glob straight into the boy’s mouth.

The hot stud played with the thick wad of spit, showing it off to Garry like a prize, before swallowing it all.  The fat man’s face lit up with joy and lust. Brad wanted to grab his face and pull him in for a kiss so badly, but the man’s belly was too fucking big.  He desperately needed to taste Garry in his mouth though, so he opened it again, allowing the fatty to spit it in again. 

Brad wasn’t satisfied though, and left his mouth open, signaling Garry to keep spitting. The sensation of the viscous saliva filling his mouth, and the nasty taste of it as he swallowed, caused his dick to start leaking precum.

At that moment, Brad’s phone started vibrating on the pile of his clothes on the floor. Garry looked over to see who it was.

“It’s Dan. Your coach must be looking for you. Is he strict with punctuality?” Garry asked.

“Yeah, he is. Especially with me because I’m the team captain. He’ll be livid that I’m so late without having given any notice. I’m probably get tortured with an insane amount of extra drills,” Brad answered. 

“Should I stop fucking you then? So you can go to your training already.”

“NO! Please don’t stop daddy.”

“Why not? You’re gonna get in trouble.”

“It’s fine. I can handle it. Just please don’t stop fucking me.”

“How late are you willing to be? What if you end up missing your training?

“It doesn’t matter. I’ll deal with it. I’ll stay here as long as it takes.”

“Oh? As long as it takes for what? Tell me what you want, boy.”

“I….as long as it takes for you to cum in me…” Brad said, the embarrassment evident in his voice.

“So you’re willing to suffer the consequences of skipping out on your training unannounced, just so you can get fucked by a wildly obese old man and take his cum up your ass? That’s pretty fucked up, boy. Tell me why you’re going through all this trouble,” said Garry.

The young stud’s face suddenly turned as red as a tomato. He couldn’t answer.

“If you don’t tell me, I’m gonna have to stop,” the fat man said.

“No! Please don’t stop,” begged Brad.

“Answer my question then,” replied Garry.

“Because it feels so good to get fucked by you,” said Brad.

“We both know that’s not the truth. Not the full truth anyway. Oh well, I gave you a chance,” Garry said as he stopped thrusting and began to pull out.

“NO! Wait, please don’t. I…Okay, fine,” the boy began in a hushed voice, his face now even more red than before.

“I get so turned on being used by disgusting men. It feels so degrading to get fucked by someone so repulsive. Having your cock and cum inside me makes me feel so dirty and ashamed of myself, and that drives me crazy horny,” the hot stud admitted, his gaze focused on the plant sitting by the side of the room, unable to look Garry in the eye.

He had already admitted this to Garry before, but it felt as embarrassing and shameful saying now as it did the 1st time. It was, however, the truth. Brad got off on getting used by the fat old men he hooked up with because it makes him feel dirty, which in turn made him feel good and horny. The real kicker is, his face and body were immaculate. Everyone who would come across him assumed he might be some celebrity. That would be selling the young stud short though, because he was more handsome and hotter than any celebrity or model the world had ever seen. That he looked so good and let those disgusting men use him only made it even more fucked up, which really drove him crazy with lust.

The older man grabbed Brad’s face and pointed it towards his own so that they were making direct eye contact.

“Good boy. I think you deserve a prize for being so honest,” Garry said in a Sinister voice, as he covered Brad’s mouth his his hand and then immediately began thrusting his cock all the way in and out of the smooth, tight hole of the youth.

Garry was now fucking Brad with the same vigor as in their first encounter, and this drove the sexy boy nuts. If it were not for Garry’s gigantic hand muffling Brad’s moans, the entire building would have heard his cries of pleasure. 

It wasn’t long before Brad started cumming without either of them so much as touching his dick.  That he once again got the hot stud to cum hands free pushed Garry to his own orgasm, and he began filling up the boy’s insides, barely able to contain his own screams.

“Holy shit daddy, that was so good,” Brad said after Garry had pulled out and they both started getting dressed. He cleaned up quickly and head for the door as he was already running really late for training.

Before Brad shut the door behind him, he turned to Garry and asked, “Can I drop by tonight?”

“No can do. I am seeing some relatives that are in town for the week. But damn, it really turns me on how insatiable you are, you dirty little slut,” Garry replied as he slapped Brad’s ass, almost causing the young stud to release the pool of cum sitting in his guts.

“Okay then. See ya,” the boy said, as he hurried to his training.

Garry having his own, large office in a secluded area in one of the older buildings on campus was extremely convenient for them both. The university administration made it seem like a privilege for him to have that office, but the truth was that the other faculty members found the way he looks really off-putting and bothersome because of how insanely obese and ugly he was, so they stuffed him far away, out of sight. The whale of a man used to resent them for this, but it turned out to be a blessing in disguise.

It had been almost 2 weeks since their first encounter, and they had been fucking nonstop ever since. During the day, they would find common free time and Brad would sneak off to Garry’s office for a quickie, just as he did a few minutes ago. Then at night, after hitting the gym, Brad would head over to Garry’s place which was only a block away,  to get properly fucked. 

It was still a mystery to Brad, and to even Garry himself, how the fat man managed to fuck Brad with the strength and stamina of an Olympic athlete in his physical prime despite being in his late fifties and absurdly, dangerously obese. 

Every basic task was demanding for Garry because of his size. Walking short distances would get him winded. Getting up from being seated required effort. Getting out of bed was a monumental task which required him to roll more often than not. Yet somehow, he could plow Brad with extreme force for literal hours without slowing down or dropping the intensity.

It was honestly something so spectacular that doctors or scientists would probably conduct studies on it. But Brad didn’t need to know how or why Garry was able to fuck him that way, as long as he was able to.

Brad was so late for training already, and the pool was quite far from Garry’s office, but he couldn’t quite sprint for fear of the Garry’s cum spilling out of his hole, so the best he could do was a brisk walk. 

When he finally got the pool, he went straight to the showers to get cleaned up and expel his daddy’s seed so he could get in the water. However, before he could even set down his things, he heard his coach shouting his name from his office. so he head over.

“I’m sorry coach. I feel asleep in the library trying to study for my calculus exam later this week. I didn’t mean to dip without leaving word. I’ll do whatever extra drills you want,” Brad said sincerely, as he really did love being captain of the swim team and took it very seriously.

“Well, normally I’d kick your ass with drills for pulling off something like this, but the Dean gave me a call earlier. He needs to talk to you about your potential scholarship for next year, so you need to drop by his office tomorrow afternoon. He also said to extend his congratulations to you for your stellar performance. He was in the crowd during the last competition. Because of that, I’m going to let it slide this time. But make sure it doesn’t happen again. 

“Ah shit. Do you know if it’s good or bad news for my scholarship?” asked Brad.

“No idea, sorry.”

“Alright. Well thanks coach, and thanks for giving me a pass this time. It won’t happen again,” said Brad as he rushed off to the shower.

The stud was a bit worried that the dean wanted to see him in person regarding his scholarship. He had no idea if that was standard practice or not. Brad didn’t actually need the scholarship as his family was well off and his parents paid for his tuition, but it would greatly boost his resume, and money saved is money saved. 

Later that night, Brad sat in his apartment going through the topics of his upcoming calculus exam. He lied to his coach about falling asleep in the library studying, but he really did have an exam that he needed to study for. 

It just dawned on Brad that this was the first night since he met Garry that he was not over at the older man’s place getting fucked. He had dropped by after hitting the gym every night, and would get fucked until well past midnight each time. This distracted him from the fact that Chuck had to postpone their sauna escapade, so he was happy about that, but it also meant that he had little to no time at all for his academics, which he was now very far behind on. He was actually grateful for this opportunity to finally catch up.

The next day, during a morning class, Brad sent Garry a text.

“I have to go speak with the Dean at 3:30pm later. Can I drop by at 3:00pm for a snack?”

“Make it 3:10. I have a quick work call at 3 but it shouldn’t be more than a few minutes,” replied Garry.

At a little past 3, Brad discreetly made his way to Garry’s office. He knocked on the door at 3:10 and was ushered in by the big man.

“So what snack will you be having today, son?” Garry asked.

“Chef’s choice,” Brad answered with a grin.

Brad had been dropping by Garry’s office for quick fuck sessions. However, on occasions where they hard a particularly short amount of time,  instead of getting fucked, Brad would get a “snack”. This snack was one of either suckling on Garry’s tits, worshipping Garry’s belly and fat rolls with his tongue and mouth, or eating his ass.

Garry dropped his pants and knelt down on the couch. Today’s snack would be his ass. 

The young hunk got on his knees immediately and spread Garry’s fat ass cheeks apart. He placed his tongue on the base of the man’s crack then slowly licked all the way up. He repeated these slow licking motions with strong pressure, then started kissing around and on the hole. He switched back and forth between slow licks and wet kisses, before eventually picking up the pace,  flicking his tongue faster and faster. He was now working that hole like a dog licking  ice cream.

Before long, he buried his face between Garry’s ass cheeks as best he could, reveling in the fat ass cheeks squishing his face, then stuck his tongue inside the man’s hole.  He darted his tongue in and out of the hole, slithering it round and round, swiping as much of the insides as he could. He was eating Garry’s ass like a starving lion, even moaning directly into his hole, the vibrations of which made the fat man shiver. As sweaty and musky as Garry’s ass was, it was always extremely clean, both inside and out, which Brad appreciated.

As Brad feasted on Garry’s ass, he reached for the man’s fat 8-inch dick and began stroking it.  The young stud got so engrossed in eating his fat daddy’s sweaty, hairy ass that he didn’t realize his meeting with the dean would begin any minute now. Luckily, the hefty fella began to tense up, which told Brad that he was about to blow. He parted from the tasty cake and dove beneath his crotch, managing to get the dick in his mouth a split second before it erupted. He continued to stroke Garry’s dick throughout his orgasm, milking every last drop from the gorgeous piece of meat into his mouth, savoring the disgusting taste.

As always, Brad didn’t swallow immediately. He waited for Garry to, ever so slowly, turn around and face him, so he could show off the cum in his mouth. Garry stuck out his middle and index finger, which Brad started sucking with his mouth still full of cum. Garry swirled his fingers in the cum for a few seconds before making Brad swallow it all, which he did in one big gulp.

With that, Brad was off to the Dean’s office, making a quick pitstop at the bathroom to wash his face and gargle with mouthwash. He couldn’t exactly walk into the dean’s office with the smell of cum all over his face and breath.

“Have a seat Mr. Parker,” said Dean Willis.

“Thanks. You said you wanted to see me about my scholarship for next year?” Brad said.

“That’s right. I have some good news for you. The scholarship will be granted to you next year if you are able to meet a few requirements,” Willis replied.

“That’s awesome! Thanks so much Dean Willis! What do I have to do to secure it?”

“You just have to maintain your current GPA. I also noticed your record indicates that you didn’t join your team during the two outreach programs they participated in this year, so you will have to accomplish this as well.”

“Oh, about that. I had every intention of joining, but coach said that I didn’t need to, and that my duties as team captain would suffice,” the youth answered.

“For maintaining your spot on the team, yes. However, for a scholarship, fulfilling the outreach requirement is a must. My assistant Sara can help with that on your way out,” the dead said.

“Alright dean Willis, I’ll make sure to get on that right away. Thank you again,” Brad said as he head out of the dean’s office and spoke to his assistant.

“Hi Sara, I’m Brad. Dean Willis said that you might be able to help me with joining an outreach program?”

“Hi Brad. Yes, I can help with you that. Here is a list of the outreach programs that are still running and that you can join at this time. You just need to pick which one you’d like to join and I will make the all the necessary arrangements for you,” said Sara.

“Hmm…I don’t really know what to choose. I’m actually falling behind with my studies right now, you know, with all the swim training. Is there any chance you can help me find one that would mesh well with my duties and schedule as the swim team captain?” Brad said, flashing that killer smile. 

His attempt at charming her succeeded, of course. Rare were the times that Brad was not able to sweep someone off their feet with his natural charms and unnaturally good looks. 

“Well, okay, here’s the inside scoop! From the feedback I’ve heard from students that have participated in these programs, the nursing home was the easiest gig. You basically just hang out with an elderly person assigned to you for a few hours a couple of days each week. All you do is chat, play cards or board games, go for walks, you know, stuff like that. You basically just keep the person company and keep them entertained,” Sara explained.

“That sounds perfect. I’d really appreciate it if you could assist me with getting into that program.”

“Not a problem. Once everything is ironed out, I’ll send an e-mail with all the details to the account registered on your file.”

“Awesome! Thanks again, Sara,” Brad said with a wink that made Sara’s heart skip a beat, as he made his way out.

Saturday morning came, and it was going to be his first day at the nursing home. Brad decided to hit the gym before heading to the home because he had plans with his friends later that night and wouldn’t be able to go then. The gym was unusually light for a Saturday so Brad’s workout ended earlier than he expected, and he had some time before he needed to be at the nursing home. He decided to shoot Garry a text.

“Hey daddy, any chance you’re home? Just finished at the gym and I’m dying for a snack.”

“Just got in, actually, so that’s perfect timing. Come on over,” replied Garry.

Brad washed up in the gym shower and then head over to Garry’s place a block over.

“Damn boy, you really hit the gym hard don’t you? You muscles are always bulging like crazy when you come here after working out,” said Garry in awe of the young hunk’s muscles that were barely contained by the plain white t-shirt he was wearing. “No wonder you need a snack. What’ll it be today?”

“I wanna feast on your big fat titties,” answered Brad with lustful eyes.

Garry took off his shirt and sat himself down on the couch. Brad came close, grabbed the older man’s gigantic, saggy manboob and started suckling on it like a baby breastfeeding. 

The whale of a man started leaking precum as the young stud made all kinds of noises as he devoured his tit. Out of the various “snacks,” this was Garry’s favorite because he could look at Brad’s face as it happened, unlike when he eats his ass or worships his belly. When Brad suckles on his tits, he can see the pure bliss and lust in the boy’s face as he feasted. It drove Garry wild knowing that someone as repulsive as him had someone as breathtakingly attractive as Brad desperate and willing to worship and be used by him.

While Garry could last for hours without cumming whenever he and Brad had proper fuck sessions, he by no means had erectile dysfunction and could cum within a shorter amount of time as well if he wanted to, which was usually the case for the boy’s snack sessions.

Garry undid his pants and began stroking his dick. Within a few minutes, he announced he was cumming, and began exploding as Brad continued to suckle on his tits.

Despite his attention being fully directed at suckling on Garry, Brad managed to catch the man’s load in his hands. The stud took it and started spreading it all over the Garry’s tits.

“Yeah son, now you can drink daddy’s milk,” teased Garry, and drink it the boy did. He started lapping the cum off of Garry’s salami-sized areolas, before properly latching on with his mouth and sucking them off fully, until there wasn’t a speck of seed left.

“Mmmm,” said Brad as he licked his lips. “Thanks for feeding me your milk, daddy.”

“Did you like daddy’s milk?” asked Garry.

“Yeah. It tastes so fucking good. Although, I do have some time left before I have to go. Can I please have another snack?”

“Oh, you hungry little slut. Go for it,” Garry replied.

Brad wasted no time. His hands grabbed hold of Garry’s belly and he shoved his face right smack in the center of it. He opened his mouth wide and started kissing the blubber that surrounded Garry’s navel. Every kiss on Garry’s gut made Brad hornier, and the hornier he got, the sloppier his kisses became. He kept getting hornier, and his kisses sloppier, to the point that his mouth couldn’t keep up and he had to resort to licking, which he did in earnest.

“That’s right, son. Clean daddy real good,” Garry said to Brad, and clean him up he did.

Brad moved from Garry’s navel to his fat folds. He slipped his tongue in between the rolls of fat and began swiping his tongue across it. The boy didn’t just move his tongue, he swung his entire head left and right, making sure his tongue slathered every nook and cranny of an area, before moving on to the next.

When Brad finished going through every one of the fat folds, he began kissing the belly downwards until he reached the bottom of Garry’s gut, whose stomach was so fat that his overhang sagged well below his crotch.

Using both his hands, Garry lifted his enormous gut, giving Brad access to the underside of his belly. The stud swirled his tongue all over the area, spinning his head along with it like a washing machine.

This made Brad so horny that he practically devolved into a feral beast. He stopped servicing Garry’s underbelly and had him drop his gut. The sexy hunk then grabbed a chunk of fat, squeezed it tight, and began gnawing (playful biting. nothing too intense) on it.

The feeling of the blubber in his mouth made Brad feel filthy right to his core, which of course, drove him crazy with lust. He could feel himself nearing his tipping point and began to jerk his dick.

Garry could tell Brad was getting close from how violently he was jerking off and how fast and desperate his moans were becoming despite the boy’s mouth being stuffed with his fat. Just as Brad was about to climax, Garry grabbed the back of the stud’s head with both hands and shoved his face deep into his belly.

Brad practically screamed as he came, and Garry could feel the reverberations in his gut as the boy did so. He also felt that familiar sticky goo splatter onto his foot and completely soak his toes.

Garry kept hold of Brad’s head and smothered him, even though he was being suffocated, until the boy’s orgasm was completely over. When the fat man unhanded Brad, he fell back on to the floor and began gasping for air, finally able to breathe.

The second Brad finished gathering himself, he crawled over to Garry’s cum-covered foot. He pickup it up with his hands and raised it, showing it off to his lover. Then, one by one, Brad took the toes into his mouth and sucked the cum clean off them. He even slid his tongue between each digit, making sure not to leave a single drop.

Without saying a word, Brad head for the bathroom to get cleaned up, and then returned once he was finish.

“Fuck, son. It’s crazy how good you are. It’s beyond words! I still can’t get over it. Honestly, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to,” said Garry, half delirious from the extreme levels of pleasure he’d been experiencing.

“I’m only able to do it so well because you’re so damn yummy,” Brad answered.

It was one thing when Brad said complimentary things to Garry during sexual stuff. That’s was dirty talk, and the boy was really good at it. This time however, they were already done, so Brad saying that was a surprise for Garry and made him blush.

“Well, uh…thank you for that. For everything. Will you be able to make it to your outreach thing in time?” 

“Yup! I checked my app and there isn’t any traffic right now, so I’ll probably get there with time to spare.  Although I should probably head out now, just in case. Thanks for the snack daddy,” Brad said, before giving Garry a deep kiss on the lips and heading out the door.

While walking back to the gym where his car was parked, Brad realized that he gave Garry a goodbye kiss. It doesn’t seem like a big deal compared to everything else he does with the man, but it was something that he’d never done before. Come to think of it, he’d never hooked up with anyone that often, which was daily, before, and hadn’t hooked up with anyone else since meeting him. Brad was also the one who asked to hook up each and every time they did.

“What the fuck is up with that?” Brad thought to himself very briefly, before setting those thoughts aside.

Garry was an insanely good fuck, the best Brad has ever had in fact, and was very easy to meet up with. He was on-campus during the day and a block away from his gym at night, so it was probably just a product of circumstances and convenience.

“Nothing to worry about,” Brad told himself, and then drove off.

Brad didn’t know what to expect when he walked through the doors of the nursing home, but he was sure it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle. After all, Sara did say that this was a super chill gig. 

As he approached the reception desk, he noticed an elderly gentleman passing by in his electric wheelchair. His face was wrinkled, he had very thin white hair that was almost complete gone, and droopy eyes. He appeared to be looking at Brad

intently with a cheeky smile on his face.

Brad ignored him and greeted the woman behind the desk and introduced himself. She was friendly and provided him with a brief orientation, explaining what a day in the nursing home would be like for him. Afterwards, she gave Brad a full tour of the facility and introduced him to the rest of the staff.

When he was done being shown the ropes, the receptionist, Aimee, led him towards the resident that he was assigned to. They walked into a room a few halls down, and lo and behold, inside the room was the creepy old guy that had

been eyeing him in the lobby.

“Henry, this is Brad, our newest volunteer. He’s been assigned as your buddy. Brad, this is Henry,” said Aimee, introducing Brad to his new charge. “I’ll let you two get acquainted.”

As Aimee was leaving the room, she touched Brad’s arm to get his attention and then leaned in close to whisper, “You’re quite the dashing young man, so I thought I might warn you. Henry is gay and quite the flirt. He doesn’t mean any harm, but I thought it best to let you know so you don’t get caught off guard. If you feel he’s being too pushy, don’t be scared to tell him off, he will back down once the line is drawn.” And then she was out, leaving only Brad and Henry in the room.

“Hi, I’m Brad, Brad Parker,” said the young hunk introducing himself to the senior, extending his hand for a shake.

“Well hello, Brad. I’m Henry Applebaum. Grandkids call me Grandpa Henry,” he replied, reaching out to shake his hand, then covered Brad’s hand with his other one, sandwiching it and giving it a gentle rub, before letting go. “It’s such a pleasure to meet you.”

“So, how long have you been here?” asked Brad, unsure of how to socialize with Henry.

“Oh, dear boy, I’ve probably been here longer than you have been alive,” chuckled Henry. “I was placed here when I was fifty nine after my wife passed away.”

“I’m sorry to hear about your wife. May I ask how old you are now?”

“I’m eighty three now. If my math serves me right, that would make it twenty four years that I’ve been living here.”

“Well, you were right about having been here longer than I’ve been alive haha!”

“I figured as much, given how youthful you look. Not to mention attractive,” said Henry, followed by a suggestive wink.

Brad responded with a nervous chuckle, and tried to move past the awkward comment.

“So, how do you like it here? You probably know this place better than most people.”

“The staff is nice enough. I don’t really like the other residents. A number of the guys here are gay, and can be very annoying. The food is decent as well. Overall, it’s okay. Although it becomes a lot more tolerable when I’m assigned a fine young volunteer such as yourself,” said Henry, giving Brad another little wink.

It made Brad uncomfortable, but he brushed it off and just responded with another fake laugh.

“Enough about me though,” continued Henry. “Tell me about yourself. How old are you? What do you do for work?”

“Well, I turned twenty this year, so I’m currently in college. I’m part of the swim team, so that takes up a lot of my time. I’m the captain of team, actually.”

He noticed that Henry’s eyes lit up when he told him that he was twenty and still in school, and wasn’t sure how to feel about it.

“My, how young. I didn’t expect someone younger than my own grandkids haha. But anyhow, how is the college athlete life treating you? Not terribly I hope?”

“No, not at all. It’s great, actually. We placed very well in the last few competitions, and I’m up for a full scholarship next year, as long as I keep up my GPA, which is also pretty good.”

“Well, aren’t you quite the golden boy. Excelling in athletics AND academics? Not to mention, handsome as heck. I bet everyone in your school would like to be you, or be with you. I know my granddaughters would have loved to have a shot at ya back when they were in college hahaha.”

Brad knew how to take a compliment as he’d been getting them all his life. He never really had an ugly duckling stage. He was handsome since he was a kid, and started getting into sports and fitness in his early teens. However, the way Henry complimented him was pretty unusual, and made him feel awkward.

“So, what should we do first?” asked Brad, trying to move things along.

“Well, how about we play cards? I used to love playing cards with my buddies. How about some strip poker?” Henry winked yet again.

“Haha. We should probably avoid strip poker. I’m sure we would get into trouble for that. But I’m down for regular poker or other card games if that’s fine with you.”

“A man has to try,” joked Henry. “Okay then, let’s start with some crazy eights.”

Time actually flew faster than Brad had expected. They played a bunch of different card games, took a walk in the garden, then watched a few episodes of Hell’s Kitchen on Netflix. Before he knew it, it was already evening and time to go.

“Alright Henry, I’ll be heading out now. My next visit is scheduled for Tuesday afternoon, so I’ll see you then.”

“See you then, handsome,” Henry said, before giving Brad a soft pat on the butt.

Brad just ignored it. He had a pretty good time with Henry despite his constant flirting. The stud might even say that he had fun and enjoyed his afternoon. Brad then head over to meet up with his friends since it was a Saturday night, and they partied til the early hours of the morning.

The hunk woke up past noon with a slight hangover. He took an aspirin for it and was off to the gym. He was still feeling sluggish from partying with his friends, and his headache had just barely subsided, but he was very dedicated to staying fit and never missed a workout if he could help it.

It wasn’t the best of gym days, but it was good enough. Starving, he met up with some buddies for a late lunch. He hung out with them til dinner, then was off to home.

Garry was out of town until Wednesday for a conference. He considered looking for a hook up, but decided to just stay in and try to get some studying done. After all, he didn’t have as much time for that in recent weeks given how much of his evenings he spent getting brutally railed by Garry.

Tuesday had come and he was due for his second volunteer session at the nursing home with Henry after his classes.

When Brad arrived at the home that afternoon, he noticed some balloons on the walls. Upon entering Henry’s room, he realized why. There was a big “Happy Birthday Henry!” banner plastered over his bed.

“Wow, happy birthday Henry!” Brad greeted the man.

The old timer looked delighted to see him. “Why, however did you know?” he replied jokingly.

“Well, how are we celebrating?”

“You came at the perfect time. These just arrived from my grandson and his wife,” said Henry, picking up 2 bottles of wine from a bag on the table.

“Looks like crazy eights is going to be a lot crazier today,” Brad answered back.

An hour or so had passed and they had finished one of the bottles, and were halfway through the second one. Brad noticed that Henry was getting a LOT more handsy in their tipsy state. He didn’t really appreciate the old man’s advances. Sure, he was more than happy to spread his ass open for the many old men who had fucked him prior, but Henry was different story.

Henry was healthy for his age. His memory was sharp, his mind was crystal clear, and his voice was strong. However, you could definitely tell his age by looking at him. Despite having a perfect bill of health, his was physically frail. While he could still walk around briefly, it wasn’t without difficulty. He could also no longer move about for long periods of time without aid, which is why he needed his electric wheelchair.

His face was covered in wrinkles and his eyes were droopy. He was balding on top. His hair had receded to about halfway through his scalp. Where his hairline started, he had very thin, gray hair unable to actually cover his scalp, that went down to just above his shoulders.

Brad had seen his naked torso last week when he helped Henry change his shirt after the garden walk. His tits were saggy and hung low, and his skin was leathery and wrinkly. He had liver spots all over, but most especially on his arms and hands, which were skinny and gaunt, but had skin sagging off them as well. He was a a little bit on the thinner side, but had a pretty flabby gut in comparison to the rest of his body, his skin sagging there as well.

He was definitely charming and fun to be around, but physically, Brad didn’t find him to be a particular turn on. He enjoyed his slice of depravity, he craved it actually, but Henry was so much older than he was used to and it made him feel gross, and not in the way that turned him on. There was also the fact that they were in a nursing home with a ton of people around, and he was there as a volunteer from his school. It was just way too risky for Brad even if he were interested in Henry, which he wasn’t.

Henry had just won the latest hand of Black Jack, when he put his hand on Brad’s thigh and asked, “So, how’s about that game of strip poker? I know you said you weren’t up for it last time, but it’s not everyday a man turns 84. Won’t you help cheer up a lonely old timer whose kids and grandkids can’t even come to visit him on his birthday?” the old man said in a slightly pleading manner.

Normally, Brad was have politely turned him down and shifted his leg so Henry would be forced to remove his hand. However, after a bottle and a half of strong wine, most of which was consumed by himself, Brad had gotten pretty damn tipsy, which lowered his inhibitions.

“Fuck it. It’s your birthday after all. Let’s do it!” Brad said energetically, in a very jock-like manner.

With a mischievous twinkle in his eye, Henry shuffled the deck and dealt the cards. They laughed and joked as they played, and the atmosphere grew increasingly relaxed, despite Brad’s initial hesitance.

As the game progressed, it was clear that Henry was getting the better of Brad. After losing all the articles of clothing Brad could pass off as things to strip, which included his necklace, watch, and keychain, he was down to just his shirt, pants, and underwear, while Henry had only removed his shoes and socks.

Another hand was played, and it was another win for Henry.

“Time to lose the shirt, boy!” he said with a laugh. “Looks like you’re no good at poker.”

“Fuck you, man!” Brad responded, returning Henry’s laugh. “Is it even safe to do this? Won’t I get in to trouble if someone comes and in sees we’re playing strip poker? I can’t afford to get a strike on my record you know.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it. This is a good facility, but they’re severely understaffed, hence the volunteer program. Whenever they manage to get a volunteer for a resident, they never bother to check in unless they’re called. Are you planning on calling Aimee over?” Henry asked, again joking with Brad.

“I guess I’m losing my shirt then,” declared Brad, as he took his shirt off, revealing his perfectly sculpted torso.

Brad was drunk, so he couldn’t be absolutely sure, but he could have sworn that he saw Henry lick his lips when he removed his shirt. It creeped him out, so he took a big gulp of wine to help calm his nerves.

A few more hands were played, and Brad’s luck was turning around. He won the next few rounds after taking off his shirt, leaving Henry in just his pants.

“How the tables have turned,” teased Brad.

“Beginner’s luck, boy. You youngins always get ahead of yourselves.”

They were on the turn of the next hand, and Brad had a two-pair of kings and nines. They eyes met and they stared intensely, sizing up one another. The river was a king, giving Brad a full house. 

“You were saying?” Brad gloated, taunting Henry for his “beginner’s luck” comment.

“Laugh it up boy. I’m much, much older than you, so let me share some wisdom. It ain’t over til its over,” answered Henry as he took off his pants and was left in just his underwear, revealing his skinny, wrinkly legs.

“Are you sure you wanna keep dealing, old man? One more strike and you’re out.”

“No shit I’m gonna keep dealing. That is, unless you’re scared?”

“Ha! Fat chance. I’m taking you out this turn,” said Brad smugly.

“We’ll see about that, kid” Henry said as he dealt their hands.

Henry ended up winning the round with a straight.

“Looks like your beginner’s luck has run out, Brad.”

Brad’s nerves crept back in. His string of wins and the copious amounts of alcohol he’d consumed made him confident and forget about the gravity of the situation. Losing this hand though, brought him back to reality, and it sunk in that he was about to lose his pants, which would leave him in just his underwear. He’d played along this far though, so he couldn’t back out now.

He chugged his glass of wine, then chugged what little was left in the second bottle, and proceeded to take his pants off and was now just in his underwear.

“Thank god for alcohol,” Brad thought to himself, knowing full well that he would not have been able to through with sober.

“Time for the grand finale,” Henry said while dealing out their final hands.

Brad eyed his cards carefully. The stakes were too high, and he was feeling anxious. They were both in their underwear now, and the loser would have to strip naked. He could sense Henry’s growing anticipation, though. He knew the old man was horny and eager to get him naked, as he’d seen Henry literally drool a bit when Brad stripped down to his underwear. 

Both men had revealed their cards, Brad with a pair of fives and Henry with a pair of queens. Brad’s heart raced and shivers went down his spine. There was one last card left that could save him from having to get naked.

Henry had a huge grin on his face, confident he had won and would get the boy to take off his underwear. “Here we go!”

He drew the last card, and what do you know, it was a five, which meant that Brad had three of a kind, trumping Henry’s queen pair, giving him the win.

“HA! EAT SHIT, SUCKER!” Brad jeered, jumping up and down in celebration of his victory, but at the same time thinking “Holy fuck, that was close,” relieved that he didn’t need to get naked.

“A deal’s a deal,” said Henry, as he took off his underwear, revealing a shriveled up, average-sized cock.

“Good game old man,” Brad told him as he extended his hand for a shake. “It only makes sense that you’re in your birthday suit. It’s your birthday after all.”

“Indeed,” Henry agreed, enjoying the boy’s playful taunts. “But now that the game is done, I must say, you are quite a sight for sore eyes, my boy. Those muscles look spectacular.”

“What? These old things?” Brad said oozing with cockiness as he showed off his muscles, flexing his arms, and then his pecs.

This was not something he would ever do in front of someone he barely knew, especially not his 84 year old charge at a nursing home. However, in his current state, which was hella drunk and hyped from the adrenaline rush of narrowly escaping having to strip naked, he wasn’t really thinking properly.

Despite his excellent performance in both athletics and academics, as well as his mature demeanor, he was still just a twenty year old, testosterone-filled college guy, and a fun-loving one at that. This was the kind of playful nonsense he and his friends might do together, especially when drunk.

Henry lost it when Brad started showing off his body. He couldn’t let it end here. He thought he would be perfectly satisfied seeing Brad without his clothes, but he needed more. The alcohol had clearly lowered the boy’s inhibitions, so he had to milk it while he could.

“Hey, tell you what, why don’t we do one last round, double or nothing, so to speak,” Henry baited him.

“How is it double or nothing? You’re already at nothing. Your age is catching up to you Henry!” Brad said laughing out loud.

“Har har. Laugh it up, boy!” Henry answered, matching Brad’s playful, teasing energy.” What I meant was, we up the stakes. If I win, you take gotta lose the underwear. If you win, I’ll give you $500,. Whaddya say, kid?”

“No shit? $500? You got yourself a deal! Your money’s mind old man!” he taunted.

“Famous last words, my boy. Why don’t you shuffle the cards while I use the washroom”

Brad shuffled the cards and dealt their hands while waiting for Henry. When he came back, Brad noticed that he had a joint in his hand.

“Is that what I think it is?” he questioned, raising his eyebrows.

“I believe it is. Why?” Henry said as he lit it and took a deep puff.

“Well fuck, two bottles of wine AND a joint? I didn’t know you had it in you old timer.”

“I’ll have you know, my young adult years were in the 60s. I was smoking weed probably before your parents were even born.”

“Alright, alright, my bad. Lemme have a few hits, won’t ya? Been a few weeks since I last smoked up.”

Henry handed Brad the joint and the boy took a bunch of deep hits, almost finishing the whole thing, before returning it to Henry.

“Won’t we get in trouble for lighting up? You should get a weed pen. It doesn’t leave as strong a smell as a joint.” Brad told him.

“It doesn’t matter, I hardly smoke anymore. Today was just a special occasion,” Henry replied.

“Good point,” Brad said as he started laughing. Thanks to his already drunken state, the weed was hitting him real good. “Enough yapping, let’s get this game going. Gotta get my hands on those five hundred dollars.”

Brad sounded way more enthusiastic than he would have liked to, had he noticed it. As expected, the wine and weed had made Brad’s inhibitions all but vanish, and had given a lot of false bravado. He was trash talking even though his cards weren’t the greatest. The Turn (fourth exposed card, for those unfamiliar with poker) was good for Brad though. He ended up with a two-pair of jacks and queens.

Henry, meanwhile, was grinning ear to ear. Even if the boy wasn’t hindered by drink and smoke, Henry was confident he would win because he already had three kings, as he made sure when he stepped away to get the join. He had to capitalize on this opportunity.

“Care to increase the stakes even further?” asked Henry.

“What do you have in mind?” Brad answered.

“Well, I was thinking, since it’s my birthday and all, that a lap dance is in order. If I win, you have to give me one. If you win though, I’ll double the amount I promised and give you $1000.”

Brad’s eyes widened at the amount. He didn’t even bother to weigh his options and immediately agreed to the terms. “Fuck yeah! I’m down for that. Get ready to pay up,” he taunted and stuck his tongue out.

“Let’s just see about that.”

The river (final card) was revealed and Brad ended with his two-pair and Henry ended with a full house, which was a better hand the Brad’s.

Brad was stunned, and his jaw was left hanging open.

“Would you look at that. Seems like I’ve won, Brad. So how’s about that lap dance?”

“Uhh…do I really have to? There’s no way you were serious about that bet.”

“If you had won, would you have been okay with me backing out of the wager and not giving you the money?”

Brad knew damn well that he wouldn’t have let Henry get away with not following through with the bet, and he didn’t wanna be a hypocrite and back out himself.

“Fuck it. Let’s get this shit over with,” he said, rolling his eyes.

Henry gave a devilish grin. “That’s the spirit, boy. Now, why don’t you give me a good show,” he said, as he dragged his chair to the center of the room and sat down.

Brad hesitantly walked over to the Henry, faced away from him, unable to meet his eyes at the moment. He stood over the seated man, his legs spread over his thighs, sort of like he was straddling him while still standing. His heart pounded hard in chest and his breathing became shallow from the stress of the situation.

He knew he couldn’t back out now, not after all the bravado he’d shown, and especially not after all the trash talk he’d hurled at Henry. He had to follow through on the bet.

“Come on, boy. Don’t be shy,” Henry urged, his eyes gleaming with lust as he looked up at Brad. “Show me what you’ve got.”

Brad took a deep breath and tried to muster up some confidence. He knew he had to put on a show, or Henry would never let him live it down. Plus, the old man had won fair and square, and Brad didn’t want to be a sore loser. Having competed in sports for years, he had developed a mentality of never backing down and walking away. 

Brad, clad only in his underwear, started to sway his hips and move his arms around, sensually raising them and tracing his own body. It was sexy, but mostly because he was sexy. The actual dancing was awkward at best. 

“I’m so much older than you, but even I have better moves than that, haha! How about we get some music going to help ease you into this, yeah? ” said the old man.

Henry then told his phone to play some song Brad had never heard of, from an artist he didn’t know, and then suddenly, a sultry voice started sounding off from speakers the stud hadn’t noticed before, accompanied by a sensual beat.

Brad by no means had two left feet, and he had no problem moving very sexily, but the situation was really stifling his movements. He was in his head and was having a hard time doing a proper sexy dance, but the music started to get him into the groove.

“That’s it, college boy. Let’s see that young body work,” Henry encouraged, his eyes locked onto Brad’s every movement, as the boy slowly descended until he was sitting on his lap.

It was a chain reaction. The music made Brad dance better. The better he danced, the hotter he felt. The hotter he felt, the lower his inhibitions became. The lower his inhibitions, the harder he would grind against Henry’s crotch.

What started out as an unwanted consequence for Brad had turned into something erotic. He was actually enjoying it now and really feeling himself as he gyrated on the old man.

Henry was in heaven at this moment. Brad’s back muscles flexed as the stud made his sexy movements. The old man wanted nothing more than to grab the stud’s ass and squeeze it, but the only thing he had agreed to was a lap dance, so he would leave it at that.

Brad continued grinding on Henry, his moves now bolder and more seductive than ever. It was at this point that he began to feel something hard on his backside. It became apparent to him that the old man was now erect and his dick pressing up against his ass crack, with the thin fabric of his underwear being the only thing separating their skin.

The young stud was shocked that Henry was able to get hard. He didn’t think that someone his age and  in his physical condition could even get erect at all. That he managed to give Henry a stiffy turned Brad on. His dick was also rather impressive, standing at around 7 inches, which was much more than when it was soft. Henry was definitely a grower. 

Brad decided it was time to make the lap dance even spicier. The boy got off Henry’s lap, turned around to face him, then sat back down. Wrapping his arms around the old man’s neck, he resumed his gyrating, feeling the hard dick pressing against his crack even more this time.

Henry took this opportunity to really take in the view in front of him. Brad was the single most attractive person he had ever seen in his life. This close to one another, the old man saw every detail of the stud’s perfectly sculpted torso. From his pecs, to his abs, all the way down to the sexy v-line, it all looked too good to be real.

Just when he thought the view couldn’t get any better, he looked up and gazed at Brad’s face. As hot as his body was, his face was his crown jewel. There were simply no words to describe how handsome Brad was.

However, despite how handsome and innocent Brad’s face looked, Henry saw something in his eyes that made the old man give grin. In the boys eyes, he saw lust. For whatever reason, Brad was horny.

Henry didn’t want to violate or take advantage of the boy, but he seemed to be so into it that he felt Brad might be receptive, so he decided to shoot his shot. 

He started very slowly, making sure to pay attention to Brad’s response so that he could stop his advances if need be. He moved his hands towards the boy’s thighs, grazing them only with his fingertips. He felt no pushback from Brad, which got his hopes up.

Henry furthered his advances and started caressing Brad’s thighs with his hands as the boy continued to give him a slow, sexy lap dance. There were still no signs of disagreement from Brad, so the old man dragged his hands up, until he reached those perfect 6-pack abs. He traced every bump, every muscle, on Brad’s abdomen, filled with fascination as he had never felt anything like it before. 

The feeble old man continued his journey and explored further up until his hands landed on Brad’s pecs. They were perfectly shaped and weren’t overly large like those body builders whose pecs were so hard and massive that they cast shadows like mountains and made them look awkward. The stud’s pecs were just the right size and and hardness, allowing Henry to grab a handful with each hand.

Henry began squeezing on them tightly. This made Brad give out the slightest of moans, and caused him to grind into the old man even harder than he already was. These hushed moans continued to slip out of Brad’s mouth as the elderly man played with his pecs, the pressure on them never relenting.

Brad was enjoying the attention to his pecs and was a little disappointed when he felt Henry’s hands depart from them and make their way to his face. The old man held his face gently in his hands. The stud stopped gyrating and met Henry’s gaze. He felt something different, something he hadn’t felt before.

Normally, Brad would pleasure fat, dirty old men for his own personal gain.  Making those men feel good made Brad feel dirty and disgusted with himself, which is what turned him on. It was never for the sake of the men he hooked up with. He was using them, despite how it looked, with them being repulsive, obese geezers and him being the hottest piece of ass around.

This time however, he wanted to make Henry feel good for Henry’s sake, not his own. It wasn’t that he wouldn’t enjoy or take any pleasure from this, but it was not at all what he was after. He wasn’t sure why this was the case, but he didn’t fight the feeling and went along with it. The handsome young stud grabbed Henry’s face with both hands and dove in for a kiss.

Henry was flabbergasted by the boy’s actions. Without warning, Brad’s face suddenly came down upon his own, young lips smacking against old. He felt the stud’s tongue dart out and push against his lips. He parted them and welcomed the assault, feeling the hot tongue rub and slide against his own, the contact between them reminiscent of Brad’s ass grinding against his crotch.

As their tongues danced and saliva moved back and forth between their mouths, Henry felt Brad start to grind on him again, which prompted him to let go of the youth’s face and grab his ass. It was a shock to Henry that despite being a perfect bubble butt, Brad’s ass was very solid. It was the type that would bounce and jiggle while being fucked, but was still firm in your hands when gripped or squeezed.

The old man was enjoying Brad’s perky ass. With one cheek in each hand, he kneaded them like dough, squeezing them so tight that he was surprised the boy didn’t yelp in pain. Instead, the boy only kissed him deeper and grinded harder.

Brad had kissed way more than his fair share of men. He has had way too many kisses for him to even remotely be able to recount them. But this wasn’t just like any other kiss. He’s had deeper kisses, hotter kisses, wetter kisses, wilder tongue action; the list goes on. However, he hadn’t had one quite this passionate. 

Where Brad and his dirty old men were usually hungrily trying to devour each other’s mouths, his kisses with Henry had a tenderness and warmth to them. It was sweet rather than wild, but by no means tame and boring. The kisses were deep and sensual, their tongues still coiling around each other like two battling snakes.

Brad continued to lose himself in their passionate make out session until he was snapped out of an almost trance-like state when he felt Henry pull down his under and rub his finger across his butt crack. It was a surprise to him, but one that he welcomed.

Henry’s finger began to trace circles between Brad’s juicy ass cheeks. The circles became smaller and smaller with every pass, until the old man reached the center and started directly rubbing the stud’s hole. It was really tight, and he wasn’t sure the boy would allow him entry, but then he felt Brad relax his hole and push out, a very clear sign that he was welcome within.

He took his time, slowly pushing his sliding his finger in. Henry felt the heat and tightness of Brad’s hole grip his finger, and the boy let out a little moan inside his mouth, never breaking the kiss. This spurred the old man on, and he inserted a second finger in.

Brad shuddered as the second finger went in. When both of them were knuckle deep inside, he let out another moan into Henry’s mouth. Henry felt a surge of satisfaction in being able to make a hot guy like Brad whimper and moan that way with just his fingers.

Henry stuck a third finger all the way, but instead of letting it settle in, he immediately began finger fucking Brad’s hole. This caused Brad to finally break their kiss as his head tilted back in pleasure and he began to moan again and again. 

The old man hadn’t had enough of his mouth though, and quickly grabbed Brad by the back of his head with his other hand and pulled him in to resume their passionate kissing. Once he knew Brad was locked in to their kissing, he let go of his head and began to stroke the boy’s cock.

The fingers rapidly entering and exiting his hole, the hand stroking his dick, the tongue slipping and sliding against his, and the fact he was doing this for Henry and not for himself, all combined and suddenly hit Brad in the form of a massive wave of pleasure.

It happened without any warning. Henry suddenly felt the boy’s hole clamp on his fingers and his body begin to shake. Still locked in their kiss, Brad’s cock began to shoot a gigantic load of cum all over Henry’s torso, from his belly all the way up to his collar bone, as the old man continued to jerk him off, stopping only once the stud had shot last last bits of his seed out.

Henry removed his fingers from Brad’s hole, and the boy got off him. The old man fully expected him to walk away now that he had cum. His libido and lust had surely faded, and he was probably regretting this encounter. Henry was about to get up himself when suddenly the stud got down on his knees between his legs, leaving the older man stunned.

Henry watched as Brad brought his face close to his belly.

“Surely he won’t,” he thought to himself. “There’s no way a guy like Brad would do that.”

But just when he finished his thought, as if reading his mind, Brad looked up at Henry and gave a cheeky smile. He stuck out his tongue and took a big swipe against the older man’s belly, licking up an entire streak of his own cum, before looking back up at Henry once again.

Henry looked down at Brad in awe. There he was on his knees, looking up at him with his beautiful face and his tongue sticking out, showing off the huge glob of cum on it.

“Well I’ll be. If that isn’t that hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” said the old man.

Brad smiled at his comment, gave him a wink, then brought his mouth back down. He started licking and sucking the cum that had splattered all over Henry’s upper body. He licked it all off, not leaving a single drop of cum on the old man. The stud then got up, grabbed Henry by the back of his head, and gave him a deep kiss.

The cum flowed out of Brad’s mouth and into Henry’s as they kissed. The old man then pushed it back into the youth’s mouth. Brad’s cum swapped back and forth between them as they shared this sloppy kiss. When there was only a bit left, Brad swallowed the remainder of it, then licked off the mess that had accumulated around Henry’s mouth.

Brad backed off a bit after he had cleaned off whatever cum and saliva had spread around Henry’s mouth with that hot tongue of his. This time, the old man was one hundred percent certain that Brad was done. Henry was about to thank the boy profusely for this once in a lifetime experience he’d just given him, when Brad defied his expectations yet again.

Before Henry could muster any words of thanks, Brad was already back on his knees and licking the old man’s body. His brain was struggling to comprehend what was happening. The boy had already cum, so his libido should have died out. His intoxication from the wine and weed should also have subsided somewhat by now.

Those were the only reasons why someone like Brad would ever indulge someone like Henry sexually. Without those, there was no way anything would happen, Henry though to himself. And yet, Brad’s tongue was running all over his old, saggy, wrinkly skin, kissing, licking and sucking on every inch of his torso. Henry himself found his body repulsive and hated seeing himself undressed, but here was the most attractive man ever, feasting on his aged flesh.

Henry was in awe as he watched Brad, now suckling on his saggy tits, who looked up at him with pure lust and desire burning in his eyes. For reasons Henry couldn’t fathom, instead of being disgusted and running away, the young stud seemed to revel in devouring every inch of his body.

The elderly man was so aroused by the attention Brad’s mouth and tongue was giving to his body that he began to leak precum, something no longer common for him in his old age. The young stud felt the wetness rubbing against his abs and took this as a sign to move things along.

Brad slid further down onto the floor, opened his mouth, grabbed Henry’s dick, and started slapping it against his tongue. Then he licked up and down the shaft making sure to swirl his tongue around the dick head whenever he would reach the tip.

Once the man’s dick was slick with saliva, Brad wrapped his mouth around the head and started to slurp on it as he stroked the shaft with his hand. The stud could tell he was giving Henry the time of his life, judging by the constant flow of precum he had to swallow and the unintelligible noises the geezer was making. 

Of course, Brad didn’t stop there. The young stud’s cock sucking skills were unmatched, and Henry was about to be the latest witness to this.  He opened his throat and slowly took Henry’s cock deeper, inch by inch. He could feel the head of his dick hit the back of his throat, but this didn’t phase him since he had a pretty good handle on his gag reflex by now. 

Brad pushed himself further down Henry’s cock, until he reached it’s base. Henry let out a such an impassioned groan that it almost sounded like he was in pain.  His wrinkled old hands moved to grab the young stud’s head. He intended to pull him off and push him back down, but the boy was already 2 steps ahead.

Henry’s wrinkly old hands had only just begun to grip Brad’s hair, but the boy was already backed up with just the tip in his mouth and moving to take it all back down his throat. The old man let out another impassioned moan, unable to really do or say anything else as the pleasure coursed through his dick and spread to the rest of his body.

Henry’s hands remained gripping the young stud’s hair, but he was by no means controlling his movements. Brad bobbed up and down his dick of his own volition, going from tip to base over and over in quick, powerful movements. 

“How the hell are you doing this? I didn’t know a blowjob could be this good. You’re so young, but you’re making this grandpa feel amazing. Oh god, you sexy college boy. Thank you, thank you so much, ” said Henry, gasping between words.

This was the best feeling Henry had ever had in his life. For the first time, he was thankful that his old age made it very difficult for him to reach orgasm, as he never wanted this to end.

Brad lost track of time, not knowing how long he had been giving Henry the best blowjob of his life. The sexy stud could have gone on sucking that old dick for hours, but he didn’t have that luxury right now. He took Henry’s cock out of his mouth, his throat instantly missing it and feeling empty without it, and scooted just a tad further down the floor so he had easier access to the old man’s big, droopy balls.

With one hand stroking Henry’s cock, Brad took the heavyset balls into his mouth and started lightly sucking on them, exerting just the right amount of pressure. After a short while, Brad turned up the heat and began very lightly “chewing” on the big ball sack in his mouth while simultaneous juggling the testicles with his tongue.

The work being done to his balls brought Henry to new heights of pleasure. Brad’s 1-2 punch on them with his mouth and tongue was somehow both rough and delicate at the same time, and the old man began to wonder just how Brad was so good with at this.

“Damn! Everything from the kissing and feasting on my body to the blowjob and ball action is divine. Very experienced adults wouldn’t hold a candle to Brad’s skills, and he’s only twenty! The gods must have blessed Brad and his mouth,” Henry thought to himself.

Now, Brad wanted to take his god given talents elsewhere. He stopped playing with the man’s balls, placed his hands under Henry’s thighs and lifted them up and apart, exposing his long neglected hole.

“Are you clean?” Brad asked.

“Yes. Very,” answered Henry,  who was more thankful than ever for the nursing home’s high fiber meals, toilets equipped with bidets, and caregivers that help him bathe.

Brad’s face lit up with a big smile, as if he had won a prize. Without saying another word, he stuffed his face into Henry’s ass crack and began kissing and licking his hole. He swiped his tongue up and down the ancient starfish, as if coaxing it to open up. 

Henry was bewildered by Brad’s actions, causing his body, and more importantly his hole, to tense up. A lot of gay men don’t eat ass, let alone the ass of someone like himself, but the sexy young stud was lapping up at his hole like there was no tomorrow.

Once Henry had gotten over the initial shock, he relaxed, which allowed his hole to open up to Brad’s tongue knocking on the door. The sexy stud didn’t waste any time and slid his tongue right in. Although he was quick to get inside, once there, he slowed things down. Little by little, his tongue explored Henry’s cavern. His tongue slithered up and down, left and right, forward and back, making sure that he made contact with the entirety of the geezer’s insides. 

As Brad’s tongue savored the insides of Henry’s hole, he noticed that his own dick was now fully hard again and leaking precum. It was commonplace for him to be able to get hard again quickly and to cum multiple times. He was young, virile, and horny as fuck. Not doing so, aside from quickies, would actually be unusual. However, he never planned on hooking up with someone as old as Henry.

The sexy stud was no stranger to old men. We all know by now, as does he, that he thrives on being used by disgusting old geezers. However, eighty four and confined to a nursing home was way out of his comfort zone. The only reason anything happened in the first place was because he got drunk and high. But right now, even though he had already cum and was mostly sober already, he was still there, erect and dripping, with his tongue lodged all the way in the old man’s asshole. The wine and weed may have gotten him started, but he definitely stayed because he wanted to.

It was that feeling he had earlier that was making him do this. He wanted to make Henry feel good, but for Henry, not for himself. He didn’t know why he suddenly had this inclination, but it was there, and he couldn’t resist it, nor did he truly want to.

“Oh my god Brad! That feels amazing. I never thought I would be getting my ass eaten at eighty four by a hot kid like you. Thank you. Oh fuck, thank you so much,” Henry mumbled as the boy continued to work his tongue in his hole.

Seeing and hearing how much pleasure he was giving Henry encouraged Brad. He wanted to do more for Henry, to make him feel even better. With a last swipe across the walls of the old man’s channel with his tongue, Brad detached himself from Henry’s ass, stood up, and took a hold of his hand.

“Come join me on the bed,” Brad said. “You’re not gonna wanna miss out on this.”

Henry had an idea of what was going to happen next, and he definitely was not going to miss out on it. He would have sold his soul to the devil if he needed to. Nothing short of a heart attack would stop him, if even that.

Brad led Henry to the bed and had him lay on his back. The stud then climbed on the bed and stood over the old man. He looked down at the feeble geezer laying below him, his eyes looking thankful, but filled with anticipation and most evidently, lust.

Brad positioned himself so that Henry was between his legs, and then slowly lowered himself down to his crotch in cowgirl position facing the old man. He grabbed Henry’s dick, which was harder than ever, and aimed it at his hole.

Thanks to Brad’s talented mouth, Henry had been leaking nonstop, and his entire dick was coated in a thick layer of precum. It meant that Brad didn’t need to find lube or use spit to ease the initial penetration and succeeding friction. This was actually the case more often than not, and why he never carried lube around. He always had his men soaking wet and ready to fuck him.

As the tip of Henry’s cock made contact with his hole, Brad felt the old man’s entire body shudder. The boy relaxed his hole and breathed out, allowing it to open up for the eager rod awaiting entry.

He lowered himself some more, and Henry’s dick pressed against his hole. Brad took it slow and swayed back and forth, letting the head slowly dig into his ring. He wanted Henry to be able to savor the feeling of penetrating him for the first time.

Brad felt his hole stretch open, and with a “plop”, the head of Henry’s cock  had finally breached his entrance. 

“Shit boy, it’s really in there! I have my dick inside such a young stud. Oh my god,” Henry whimpered.

Slowly but surely, Brad continued to lower himself on the old man’s dick, taking more and more of it in.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Henry groaned, looking is disbelief as watched his cock slowly disappear into Brad’s ass, until finally, the boy bottomed out and had the entire thing in him.

Brad gave a soft, sultry moan when his ass reached the base of Henry’s cock. He was now completely impaled on the older man’s dick and could feel every inch of it throbbing inside him. 

Henry, meanwhile, had laid his head back on the bed with his eyes closed. He was experiencing pure bliss and wanted to bask in this feeling as much as best he could, opening his eyes only when he felt Brad’s touch.

Brad grabbed Henry’s chin with his index finger and thumb, and tilted the man’s head down. He made it so that they were looking at each other’s faces. Brad locked eyes with his older lover as he slowly rose up from his dick, stopped when there was less than an inch left in him, then slowly sank back down.

The sensation of Brad’s tight hole sliding up and down his dick made Henry squeak out something in between a moan and a whimper, and once again, his whole body shuddered. He had barely recovered from this when Brad began rising again. Henry could tell this was going to be a fuck unlike any other.

Brad continued to ride Henry’s dick up and down, keeping his pace deliberately slow. He wanted to make sure the old man could feel every single sensation on his dick as it was milked by his tight young hole. 

Despite doing this for Henry’s pleasure and not his own, the sex felt extremely good for Brad. Every time he sank back down on Henry’s dick, a passionate moan would escape his lips.

Henry began to feel butterflies fluttering in his stomach. It wasn’t because of the tight hole milking his cock, nor was it because of the hushed erotic moans filling the room. No, it was because Brad had been keeping eye contact this entire time. As the boy rose and sank on him, he never once looked away. 

Having the boy look at him, seeing his raggedy old face and body constantly and still choosing to fuck himself on his dick gave Henry that giddy, lovestruck feeling he hadn’t felt in decades. It was all he could do to give the biggest, most genuine smile, and whisper, “Thank you.”

Brad heard the sincerity in Henry’s voice and could tell the old man felt like the luckiest guy in the world. Brad liked that he made the Henry feel that way, but he knew he could take it ever further. He didn’t want Henry to just feel that he had been given a freebie. The sexy stud wanted Henry to feel like he (Brad) was the one that wanted this and that he was giving to Brad just as much as he was getting. That was bound to make him enjoy it even more.

“Oh fuck. You feel so good inside me, Henry,” Brad whispered to the old man.

The stud, who had been sensually sliding up and down Henry’s dick at a deliberately slow pace, finally took things up a notch. His pace quickened, and the friction between the old man’s shaft and his hole began to really warm their flesh.

“I can’t get enough of your dick. I need it so badly,” he said while riding Henry as if he were a horse, really living up to the position he was getting fucked in.

“You like taking my dick, boy?” asked Henry, and received no verbal answer.

Instead, the young stud shifted positions a bit, giving him better balance. To Henry’s utter shock, Brad doubled the already incredibly fast pace with which he fucked himself on his dick. 

Brad tilted his head back and began moaning. It wasn’t those soft, sultry moans from earlier. He was moaning for real now, full of passion and lust, as he bounced on that dick like a basketball.

“Hey Brad, not so loud man. Somebody might overhear and come check up on us,” Henry told the boy, trying to get him to quiet down.

“AH FUCK. IT FEELS TOO GOOD. I CAN’T STOP!” Brad answered haggardly as he continued to impale himself on Henry’s dick.

“Please Brad. You’ve gotta stop,” Henry pleaded.

And stop Brad did. He dismounted the old bronco, crouched over him, and gripped his arms. He moved Henry up the bed and helped him sit up with his back against the headboard. The stud then lowered himself towards Henry’s crotch, straddled him, dropped his ass right onto that dick and straight to the base, then began once again bouncing up and down.

Once Brad had reached his earlier pace, he began moaning loudly again. 

“Come on Brad, you’re doing it again. I told you, you can’t be that loud,” said Henry.

“I know,” answered the boy, diving in for a sloppy kiss.

Henry then felt Brad moaning into his mouth. The vibrations this created seemed to travel all throughout his body and caused him to convulse for a second.

“Holy fucking hell!’ Henry thought to himself as he realized Brad was incapable of stopping himself from moaning. The boy was getting so much pleasure from riding his dick that the only way he could shut himself up was to kiss and simply moan into his (Henry’s) mouth instead.

The old man’s hands were taking in as much of the boy as he could. One hand was in his hair, gripping him firmly as their mouths clashed,  while the other hand caressed every inch of the boy’s body. Henry held on to the boy so tightly, not wanting to let him go, not wanting this to end. 

They had been going at it for a while, and though Brad showed no signs of slowing down, Henry figured his muscles were surely starting to tire or get sore from bouncing on his dick so intensely nonstop. He decided to give the boy a helping hand, or two.

Henry grabbed Brad’s ass, one cheek in each hand, and squeezed them hard. He massaged them roughly as the boy bounced up and down, making him moan even louder, but still muffled by their kissing. After giving that perfect ass some rough attention, he cupped them and started lifting Brad up whenever the boy would rise from his dick.

Although Henry’s only intention was to help Brad out so he would not work himself so hard, the stud took this to mean that he wanted more, that he wanted Brad to ride him ever harder and faster. The last thing Brad wanted was to disappoint Henry, so he really pushed himself and went into overdrive.

The stud fucked himself so intensely on Henry’s old dick that his prostate received a brutal assault, making Brad suddenly explode unintentionally.

Henry was caught off guard. Brad’s moaning became feral and his ass started clamping down on his dick like it was having spasms. And then he felt it, warm, sticky liquid painting his torso. The boy had cum.

Brad rode his orgasm out, literally, as he kept bouncing up and down as he spurted his seed out. When he was done, he broke the kiss, rose off Henry’s dick and just collapsed onto the bed.

Henry watched as the boy lay there, his chest heaving from the heavy breathing, and body glistening with sweat. Even exhausted, Brad looked absolutely stunning. He couldn’t help but wonder how Brad got to be this way. Not that he really knew Brad or was one to judge and make assumptions, but this young stud with a perfect face and perfect body just fucked himself to a handsfree orgasm on his 84 year old dick while kissing his raggedy, time-ravaged face. This was definitely not normal, so there must surely be something going on with the boy. 

However, Henry quickly snapped out of this train of thought, not wanting to question a good thing. Besides, he was not in any condition to ponder something that deep. Henry was on such a high that he could barely remember how they got from Brad giving him a birthday lap dance to Brad practically skewering himself onto his dick. All that the old timer could vividly recall was the feeling of shock and elation every time he thought Brad was done, only for the hunk to suddenly take things even further.

Henry closed his eyes, trying to etch this image of Brad in his mind. He couldn’t help but smile knowing that even though it was over now, he would always have this memory to look back at.

The old man suddenly felt movement. He opened his eyes and assumed he would see Brad getting ready to leave, but instead, the boy was on his side with that cheeky smile Henry had grown so fond of.

“Are you still hard?” Brad asked.

“Uhm…yes. Why?” Henry answered, visibly confused.

“Stand by the edge of the bed,” was the only response he got from the stud.

Henry did as he was told and stood by the edge of the bed, dick standing at full mast. Brad then scurried over until he was in front of Henry, turned around, got on his hands and knees and stuck his ass up and out.

“What the fuck? Again?” asked Henry.

“Hell yeah. Shove it in me, Henry!” Brad said eagerly.

“But you’ve already cum twice. Can you still go on?”

“That dick is too good. I feel so empty without you inside me. I fucking need you in me again,” Brad pleaded.

Henry wasn’t about to deny himself even more sexy time with the young stud, so he grabbed his dick and started working the head into Brad’s hole.  The instant he penetrated, Brad bucked his hips backward and his hole swallowed Henry’s entire cock. 

“Oh my god, boy. You’re insatiable!” said Henry.

While Brad was in fact insatiable, in this particular instance, he kept going because Henry had not orgasmed yet. He had to give the old man the ultimate pleasure, the ultimate satisfaction. He had to make him cum.

Brad thrust his hips back and forth onto the old man’s dick, taking it all the way in each time. He moaned and groaned with each movement he made, making sure the old man knew he was enjoying it and desperately working for it.

That’s when it hit him. Brad realized that he’d been doing all the work and had been the one taking the lead since the lap dance began. While this worked wonderfully in making Henry feel wanted and desirable, it did not give him the chance to feel in charge and powerful. Brad wanted to make sure he did.

The stud slowed down his thrusts until he came to a halt. He turned back to look at Henry and said, “Fuck me, Henry. I want you to use my hole.”

“Fuck yeah, boy,” the old man replied as he started to buck his hips forward and back.

While the lust was evident in Henry’s tone, his actions didn’t mirror it. Brad could barely feel the old man thrusting into him. The stud looked back once again and saw Henry’s face straining. It wasn’t that Henry wasn’t trying, because his face showed that he definitely was. He just seemed to be very physically limited in what he could do.

Brad could tell that Henry knew he wasn’t delivering, and could feel the old man begin to lose his confidence, and with this, his erection. Henry was starting to go soft. His plan to make the old man feel like a powerful stud was backfiring. He couldn’t just stop and go back to what they were doing earlier either because that would make Henry feel like a failure. Brad had to figure out a way to salvage the situation. After racking his brain for a moment, he had a “Eureka!” moment and knew exactly what to do.

“Oh yeah, don’ stop. Fuck me harder, Grandpa!” Brad moaned.

“Wha…what did you say?” the old man asked, his voice full of surprise, as he suddenly stopped his meager attempts at fucking Brad and was now frozen in place.

Brad turned around to face Henry and locked eyes with him.

“You heard me. I said fuck me harder, GRANDPA!”

The stud felt Henry’s dick immediately shoot back up to full erection and begin to pound into his hole. Brad’s plan had worked.

Though Brad was the perfect physical specimen, an athlete, and popular to boot, he was by no means a stereotypical meathead jock. He was a diligent student, very intelligent, and he was certain that Henry had a fixation with their ages.

Throughout the time they spent together, despite being brief, Henry had made numerous references to the vast difference in their age. He mentioned a number of times that he was a grandfather and Brad was just a college kid. He brought up his grandkids a couple of times, even going so far as to mention that Brad was quite a bit younger than them. Not to mention the fact that he straight up would say that Brad was so young, so much younger than him, and how he was so much older compared to the boy.

Brad didn’t address any of it nor react in any particular way, but he was very aware of what Henry was doing and of the reason behind it. The men Brad hooked up with loved the fact that they got to fuck someone so young and hot.  For a lot of them, it made them forget about how old or fat or just generally repulsive they were. It allowed them to block out reality, even if only temporarily. 

Henry was different though. He seemed to revel in the fact that he was indeed extremely old and unattractive. He was particularly turned on by someone so young  giving themselves to someone so old, and emphasized that disparity in age. It reminded Brad of Garry, who was the same way, except he honed in on how fat and repulsive he was rather than his age. 

Thanks to Brad’s astute observation, the old man’s blood was able to flow hot, and he was now plowing the boys ass like a someone in his physical prime. He was actually surprised at just how effective it was, but certainly planned to capitalize on it.

“Holy shit grandpa, keep fucking me. That feels so fucking good!” Brad exclaimed.

“Yeah? You like that, boy? You like it when grandpa fucks you?” the old man asked as he continued to thrust in and out of the boy’s ass.

“Fuck my tight young ass like you own it. Fuck it like only a grandpa can,” the boy teased, knowing exactly what buttons to press, causing Henry to grab his hips and pull him into his thrusts, impaling him with his dick even deeper.

“Fuck yeah, boy. You know what grandpa likes,” Henry groaned, his eyes rolling back.

He had never felt anything so good in his life. Despite everything they’ve done so far, he still couldn’t believe that this perfect physical specimen of a boy was willingly letting him fuck him, and calling him grandpa while he did it.

“That’s right grandpa, I know you like sticking that old dick in me. You like shoving it inside someone younger than your grandkids, don’t you?” Brad responded.

“Mother fucker!” Henry said, barely stopping himself from screaming it out. “Flip over. I need to see that handsome face for this.”

Brad did as he was told, then raised his legs up and spread his ass, beckoning Henry to continue invading him.

Henry slapped his dick against Brad’s hole. “You want it?” 

“Yes!”

“Yes what?” Henry teased.

“Yes, grandpa,” Brad obliged.

“Mmm, good boy. Tell grandpa what you want. Let me hear it.”

“I want you to fuck me, grandpa. I wanna have your old cock buried deep inside of me.”

“How badly do you want this wrinkly, 84 year old dick to fuck you?

“Oh please grandpa. I want it so bad. No, I NEED it. Please, please fuck me,” Brad pleaded.

“Well, far be it from me to deny my sexy grandson of what he wants. Ah, my mistake. What he needs,” said Henry before thrusting his dick all the way to the hilt in one swift move.

“AAAHHHH,” Brad moaned as the old man’s dick filled his channel. The exaggerated moans from earlier were long gone. Brad now moaned with genuine lust and pleasure as Henry forcefully ravaged his ass.

“Hey Siri, when was the internet invented?” Henry asked his phone while his balls slapped against Brad’s ass.

“What the fuck?” Brad thought to himself. Why was the old man asking Siri about that in the middle of fucking him?

“1983,” his phone answered.

“Well would you look at that. If my math is right, it’s been 42 years since 1983. So tell me, boy, how does it feel to get fucked by someone twice as old as the internet?” said Henry.

Brad had to internalize what just happened. This was the most random shit he’d ever have happen during sex. Why the hell would Henry bring up how old the internet was? There was also no way what Siri said was correct. Henry couldn’t really be twice as old as the internet, could he?

The boy hadn’t answered him, but Henry didn’t mind. He watched Brad lay there silently getting fucked as he processed the info he was just given. Henry found it quite amusing to be on the other side of things and have Brad be the one that was caught off guard.

Brad’s eyes widened and a soft whimper escaped his mouth. It was at this moment that Henry knew that it finally clicked in Brad’s mind.

“Twice as old as the internet is wild. You’re fucking ancient!” said Brad finally.

“I am ancient. And you’re so young and hot. But here you are letting a fossilized bone jackhammer your hole, my disgusting grandson.”

“That’s right grandpa, don’t stop. Keep fucking your disgusting disgusting. Show me how you fucked in the dark before they invented electricity,” Brad said, giggling as he said that last part.

“Oh you little bitch!” Henry said with a laugh. “I’m gonna get you for that.”

The old man expected Brad to say something lewd, but was instead met with a sincere look full of longing.

“I want to kiss you, grandpa. Please,” Brad said in a hushed voice.

Henry shifted around so that he could essentially lay on top of Brad with his dick still inside him. Their faces were only inches apart, and they could feel each other’s warm breaths. No words were spoken, they simply stared into each other’s eyes for a few moments.

Brad placed his hands on Henry’s cheeks and gently caressed them. Looking up at Henry, he saw a face that was old, wrinkly and ugly. He was, objectively, not beautiful. In fact, he was quite hideous, and Brad wasn’t denying this. But there was just something about Henry that compelled Brad to make him feel good.

Perhaps it was because he had no intention of fucking Henry and actually got to spend time with him and get to know him, which was a first for the stud. Maybe it was all just some twisted game his mind was playing. He didn’t know for sure, and in that moment, he didn’t really care. What he did know for sure though, was that he wanted nothing more than to make sweet love to this dirty old grandpa.

Brad pulled Henry’s face in, and their lips touched.  While it was a light, gentle kiss at first, it began to deepen. The old man’s hands, which had been idle on the sides, took hold of Brad’s face, caressing him as their mouths collided.

Brad pushed his tongue deep into Henry’s mouth, making sure to let the old man know how badly he wanted him. Henry responded in kind, slipping his own tongue into the boy’s mouth. His tongue was peculiar in that it was unusually long, much longer than an average man’s tongue. The young stud made the most of this and started to gently suck on it.

Henry had never had his tongue sucked on before, and found it to be very enjoyable, so he let it sit in the boy’s mouth so he could continue giving it attention. As Brad sucked on Henry’s tongue like a jello popsicle, his hands began travel from the man’s face, downwards, tracing his body along the way, until he reached his ass cheeks. The stud gave them a gentle squeeze and then pulled them in towards himself.

Although Henry’s dick was still hard and inside Brad, he had stopped fucking the boy when he shifted positions to be able to more easily kiss him. He took Brad tugging on his butt as a signal that the stud wanted him to resume the fuck, which he was more than happy to do.

Henry was now fully laying on Brad, kissing him, while simultaneously fucking his ass. Although his thrusts were powerful and quick, it was nowhere close to how powerfully he pounded him in their previous position. However, it didn’t make it any less erotic and enjoyable. They had found a steady rhythm, able to perfectly balance their passionate kissing and sensual ass pounding.

Their now sweaty bodies pressed together, and Brad could feel his smooth, supple skin and tight muscles rubbing against Henry’s saggy, wrinkly, leathery skin. It made him very aware of the fact he was making love to an 84 year old man, which he found found so erotic, and savored the odd sensation.

The constant friction caused by their contrasting bodies rubbing against each other resulted in a slick, sloppy sound that would have disgusted any outside parties that heard them, but only served to heighten the passion between Brad and Henry.

Brad wrapped his legs fully around Henry’s waist and, together with his hands that were still gripping his butt cheeks, pulled the older man in, aiding him in his efforts to plow his perky young ass.

Something was swelling in Brad and beginning to overflow. Henry noticed it too, picking up on it from the boy’s moans delivered directly into his own mouth as they kissed, which grew louder and more passionate by the second. It was desperation.

Henry could feel that desperation growing, becoming more and more palpable. He could feel it from the way Brad kissed him with so much passion and need. He could feel it from the way Brad clung to him and writhed beneath him, urging him to fuck him harder and deeper, and so he did, despite their position making it difficult.

The hungrier and more desperate Brad got, the hornier Henry became. It had come to a point where the stud was whimpering and squealing more than he was moaning, and was pulling in Henry’s ass to fuck him so forcefully that his nail were digging into the man’s skin so much that they were sure to leave a mark. It was driving Henry over the edge.

The old man broke their kiss, pulled out and started jerking his dick. “Oh, I’m so close to cumming, boy.”

“Give it to me grandpa. I want it so bad.”

“Where do you want it?”

“In my ass.”

“Your ass? Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. I want it in me.”

“Oh yeah? Then show me. Beg for it. Beg for grandpa to cum inside you.”

“Please grandpa, please cum in me. I need your load deep in my ass,” Brad pleaded.

“Beg some more. I wanna feel how badly you want it.”

“Oh god grandpa, I’m begging you, please cum in my ass. I wanna feel you fill up my insides with your nasty old cum,” Brad said in a sex crazed, desperate voice.

“Is that what you really want? For me to fill your guts with my ripe old cum?”

“YES! Give me that grandpa seed that’s been curing in your balls for God knows how long. Fucking fill me up.”

“Son of a bitch! Do you have any idea how pathetic you look begging for a grandpa more than 4 times your age to full you up with his cum?” 

Brad’s face instantly burned red from embarrassment at hearing those words, but it fueled his hunger. “Fuck. Fill my 20 year old ass with your 84 year old cum. Flood my guts with your seed grandpa!”

Henry watched the young hunk as he begged to be bred. He saw Brad’s bulging biceps, his perfect pecs bouncing up and down, his rock hard 6 pack abs, and the way they all contrasted with his face that exuded submission and desperation. Hearing Brad, seeing him like, finally brought the octogenarian to his orgasm.

“I’m cumming, boy! I’m filling your hot college ass with my 84 year old seed!” Henry cried out as he exploded inside Brad.

Henry’s entire body convulsed as he pushed hard into Brad’s ass, his cum shooting out of his cock like a fire hose,  completely flooding the boy’s insides. He was shaking so violently and moaning unintelligibly that for a brief moment, Brad felt genuine fear that his lover might be having a heart attack.

When his orgasm finally passed, the adrenaline that had empowered Henry like a man in his prime faded, and he collapsed on top of Brad.

“Are you okay, Henry?” Brad asked him. “For a moment there, I thought you were having a heart attack.”

“Yes, I’m fine. But you know what? If that had been a heart attack, it would have been the perfect way to go out. I’d have died at my happiest,” Henry answered.

“What that fuck?” Brad said laughing. “There’s no need to be so morbid. Besides, if you died back there, that means I would never be able to have you inside me again. And I DEFINITELY want you inside me again, and again, and again.”

“Oh my god, Brad. I can’t believe this is all real. I wish you didn’t have to go and I could be with you forever,” said Henry.

“Well, as much as I’d love to stay, I gotta get going. I’m already running late to meet my friends, and I still have to go home and clean up. But hey, how about this? I won’t clean out my ass. I’ll keep your cum inside me all night while I’m out. That’s sorta like having you with me, or rather, in me haha!” 

“Are you being for real?” asked Henry.

“Oh, absolutely. Give me your number so I can send you a little surprise later,” said Brad.

They exchanged numbers, shared one last passionate kiss, and Brad was headed out.

“Alright, take care. Can’t wait for my next visit. Don’t wait up!”

Just like that, Henry’s perfect birthday was over, although he apparently still had one last surprise coming.

Henry knew he should have gone to sleep. The physical strain of the fucking he gave Brad could have easily put him in a coma, so rest was much needed. However, the anticipation was too much, and he couldn’t get his mind to relax.

It was around 3:30AM when Henry felt his phone vibrating. He was beginning to lose faith in Brad and thought that maybe the boy had changed his mind. But no, he was just a young man in his prime enjoying life with his friends. He should have expected him to be out until late.

He clicked on the notification which led to a video sent by Brad. Henry played it and was blessed with the image of Brad setting his phone on the bathroom counter, then taking a step back. The boy lifted one leg up and placed it on the counter, exposing his ass which he spread out, then pushed the cum out of his hole onto his hand. He brought it close to the camera, showing off the large pool of sticky goo that was Henry’s 84 year old cum. The old man was astonished that the load was perfectly white and clean, as if it had just  been freshly shot out of his dick.

Nothing could have prepared him for what came next, though. Brad picked up his phone for a close up, as he proceeded to slurp all the cum off his hand, licking clean whatever seed was left on it, and swallowed.

“Good night, grandpa. Can’t wait for you to fill me up again,” the boy said with a wink as the video ended.

Henry simply smiled. He had been on autopilot for many years now, just letting time pass by. But now, for the first time in as long as he could remember, he had something to look forward to, a real reason to live his life, a reason that went by the name of Brad.

To be continued

For a week I did not want to see anybody. I stayed at home, indoors and refused to go outside. Last week I was forced into gay sex by at leats 6 people, almost each day. So I decided to turn off my phone, watch TV all day and work at home.

But… my hormones started racing again after a week. I don’t know why… but each time my hormones are racing I feel completely gay. All inhibitions disappear and I can only think about a big dick in my mouth and up my ass. But I don’t act on it. Instead, I strip naked and put on my tight spandex shorts. I take a bright pink halter top out of the closet and put it on. It is nice and short, so my crown jewels and tight ass are at full display. Makes me feel so fucking horny. I put on my running shoes, and step outside the door. I start running.

Lovely, to run outside and see people watching my muscled body. After 10 miles a car lowers its pace and starts driving next to me. Slowly. The window is lowered and I hear a firm voice: “BOY!!!”. “Oh… my… god…”. Not again. Who is it this time?

“Get in the car… NOW!!”, a voice says. Hesitantly I look into the car and I see Peter. He is furious. “NOW!!”. He says. “Look, Peter, I don’t want to do this anymore, I am not gay and…”… he stops the car. Without saying one word, he punches me in the face. I fall down and almost immediately I feel his body on top of mine. He grabs my wrists and cuffs them together. The same for my ankles. I start screaming… “Peter, nooo!! Please… I don’t want this, I am not gay…! Peter, please…” HMMMGRPHH!. A ballgag is placed in my mouth and is tightly secured in its place. There I am, helpless bound and gagged. Peter picks me up like a sack of potatoes and throws me over his shoulders. My tight ass visible for everybody to see. He throws me in the back, closes the lid and drives off.

There I am. 30. minutes in a small and confined space. Strangely, I notice that my cock starts to grow. Apprently I like being bound and gagged in the back of Peters car. How on earth…?! After 30 minutes the car stops and Peter throws me over his shoulder again. He enteres the bar, screaming out loud: “Look who I caught!! He thought he could escape and turned off his phone for a week! Shall we punish him?”. I heared a lot of horny men roar. 

Peter walked on the stage, throws me on the floor and turnes on the spotlight which marks the center of the stage. For everybody to see. He lowers the chains from the ceiling revealing the metal handcuffs. While flipping a switch a set of ankle cuffs appear on the stage floor. Ohoh… I know where this is going… Peter picks me up, takes off my cuffs and before I can react, my hands are cuffed above my head. He pulls the chains, forcing me to stand on my toes. The ankle cuffs are fastened. Chained, bound and gagged, for everybody to see, Completely helpless. And Peter stands there, with a big mean grin on his face.

“I told you BOY… when I want you hear, you get here. Immediately and without any questions asked. If I tell you to suck my cock you do so without one word. If I want to fuck your ass, you offer it to me, without one word. You did not listen to me, so you are a naughty boy. So you get at least 20 lashes with my whip!!” My eyes grow big. Lashes with a whip? Oh no!! I start to scream but only a mufffled sound comes out.

He grabs my tanktop with both hands and RRRRRIPPPPP!!!!!! Off it goes. “Nice spandex dude, nice and tight, just the way I like it. You know… you are definetly not straight. You are supergay. I can see because you have a boner now. You like this!”. Oh no…

“NAKED NAKED NAKED NAKED!!!”, the crowd cheers. And Peter grabs the waistband of my spandex shorts and with only one quick movement the come off. Naked, with a big boner on the stage. Spotlight on my cock and the crowd cheers again.

Peter takes a whip and BAMM!!! “MMMMMMGHHHHHH!!!!. “That is 1. 19 to go.”. BAMMM!!! BAMMMM!!! BAMMM!!!! Tears stream out of my eyes. “Next time you don’t listen to me, it becomes 40!”, he grunts. BAMMMM!! BAMMMM!!! BAMMM!!! I lower my head, crying in silence. I realise I really am his slave. And there is nothing I can do about it. BAMMM!!! BAMMM!!!! BAMMM!!! When Peter reaches 20 I feel numb. Helpless. Lost. Ready to give up any sign of resistance. 

Peter takes off my ballgag. “Are you a nice obedient slave now, BOY?”. “Yes Master”, are the only words I can speak. “You are my slave. I own you”, he grins. “Yes Master, I am your slave, you own me”. “Admit that you like being here, that you like gay sex and that you are completely gay. Do it, now!!”. “Yes Master. I like gay sex and I am completely gay”. It is no use to resist.

I did not realise that Master Peter got rid of his clothes and was standing in front of me wearing nothing else then a tight blue thong. “Wow, what a stud”, I heard my mind say. Bald, beard, muscled, nipple pearcing through each nipple, big dick, great ass. Waw. He stepped out of his thong, standing there with no shame, completely naked. He lowered the chains so I bend forward. He walked behind my, spread my cheeks and thrusted his cock in my anus. His big hands on my ass. BAMM!!!. “AAUUUWW!!!”, I screamed, but he and the crowd only laughed. I don’t know who, but somebody grabbed my face with both hands and put a cock in my mouth. Roughly fucked at both ends.

Then I hear a familiar voice. “I wonder if your wife knows that you are such a nice gay slut. What would happen if I show her this video?”. I look up, and I see my neightbour standing there. Fully naked with a dripping cock. In his hands a phone, which is video taping the entire scene. 

“Oh noo, please!”, I scream. “I would do anything, please delete it and don’t show it to her!”. My neighbour only laughs. “Well, next weekend you are on a business trip. You will tell your wife that. And make her belief it is true. Instead you come over to my house and you will be my personal slave for an entire week. Gagged, cuffed, naked, and the boys and me will have our own party. With you. You come over to my please and you will be naked the entire week. Only wearing cuffs, a ballgag and a cockring”.

“Yes Master”. I will.

“And…?”

“I will do everything you tell me to do. If you ask me to suck your cock I will. If you want to fuck me, I will willingly offer my hole. I am completely gay and I am yours”.

I have hit rock bottom now. Maybe I am gay. And maybe I have been in denial for all those years.

⁕ ⚠️WARNING:
This is a stand-alone bonus/spin-off story for the 7-part series Curious Club Cruise. It describes the ending of Brian’s Club Cruise, and how the brute, Master Josh, got punished. If you’re not into rough, mean, or forced sex, this might not be the right story for you. Reader discretion advised.

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⁕ Disclaimer:
This story is strictly fictional and contains male-on-male (gay 🏳‍🌈 ) sexual content, both implied and explicit. 🔞 Reader discretion is advised. The names, ages, circumstances, parties, and locations mentioned in this narrative are entirely fictional. Any resemblance to actual individuals is purely coincidental. This story is a product of the author’s imagination. The author does not endorse any products or entities mentioned herein.
⁕ © Copyright:
All copyrights to this story remain strictly that of the author. No other publication, use, or reproduction of this story or parts of this story is allowed without the author’s written consent. It is published on www.gaydemon.com. Under the pseudonym of StrykerJ.
⁕ Thanks for reading:
👍 LIKE or RATE IT. That is appreciated. Or leave a comment or a question after you’ve read this story. Thank you very much.

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Curious Club Cruise – Addendum.

The punishment of ‘master’ Josh Roper.

The college freshman, Mark Edwards, rushed after the club’s security staff to the unconscious figure in the back alley. The man’s twink buddy lay bent over on a discarded stack of tires behind the Mountain Club. His gray Chinos were ripped open at the ass seam. With his beautiful ten-inch dick lay hooked semi-erect on the bare tire treads between his legs.
The nasty leather goth biker pinning him down with extreme brutal force was about to penetrate the pink hole violently. The thieving creep had not found the cash he was looking for. Vowing to abuse the boy’s ass instead. Just to get even with Brian Jackson for telling on him to the security staff.

Luckily, the leather aggressor got yanked off the boy by the club staff and Marines from the nearby base where his older brother worked. They were called to the rescue by Lieutenant Tony Jackson and Captain Daniel Carter. Alarm bells had started whaling when Brian texted his brother a photo of the guy who had been stalking him all night. The Marines had past dealings with the creep. Both men had taken an intense interest in the eighteen-year-old. Brian Jackson had confessed to the two older hunky gay Marines that he was curious about sex with guys.

Well, more specifically, interested in beefy, muscular, dirty-talking vocal men, preferably dressed in leather. Being gay biker lovers, they knew precisely how to help Brian. It was his older brother who had pointed Brian to the Mountain. Expecting that the 18-year-old would find what he was looking for in this gay bondage nightclub. Out here, there were plenty of leather-wearing studs to pick from. The Marines gave him a crash course in gay sexual activities and showed him around town. And this Friday night, the Jackson lad was fully prepared to take a guy home to get his virgin ass stretched open for the first time.

On the whole, the initial visit to the Mountain Club was fun. Brian flirted with a few guys and even got to suck off a well-hung hunky Dutch-Caribbean bartender in one of the toilets. But other than dancing and getting drunk, the boy did not have much luck. Antwan, the sexy bartender, had too little time to deflower Brian. So, the two went for a quick hookup and a reciprocal blowdown. Later, Jackson watched many other Alpha men in amazement as they got it on in the club, though.

Like a good little nerd, Jackson tried to learn as much as he could from what he saw them do. You see, the lean young man never was that outgoing in school. Brian never got into girls like his smack-talking and pussy eating classmates. Jacking off together with the jocks after gym class to relieve some pent-up sexual tension was the most he got.

You could say he definitely dressed and looked nerdy, judging by the office clothes and the horn-rimmed glasses he was made to wear to school by his parents. However, Brian fancied himself eventually dominating his bed partners. For that, he needed — and found — a new butch attitude and much kinkier clothes. But for now, he would settle serving up his asshole to a lucky guy willing to deflower him that night.
So with a new hairstyle, sturdy boots, a butch chest harness, and a very tough-looking leather biker jacket, Brian Jackson set out to conquer the world, climbing the Mountain. Hoping to get his ass stuffed.

When Brian Jackson first saw the leather man enter the club, he thought this sexy, buff guy might be the one. The man certainly looked the part. There stood the guy he’d dreamed about all his life. Dressed in a fitted leather punk jacket with metal studs. Tight leather fuck pants with a full zipper posing pouch and vicious-looking hobnail army boots with spiked chain heel-harnesses. Mirroring the metal studs on the expensive leather jacket.

Josh Roper wore gold bling and dark makeup. Acting too cool for his shirt. A shirt? No, this 26-year-old stern goth-looking biker guy wore a gold X-chain harness over his offensively tattooed bare chest. That was all. However, the dream vision turned quickly into Brian’s worst nightmare the longer he looked. Watching ‘master Josh’ take out his sexual frustrations on anyone he could get his hands on. And the creep did not care who watched him do that. Acting as if he owned the club and anyone who dared to cross his path.

Throughout the long club party night, Roper took his shortcomings out on anyone who got within reach of the brute. Acting more like a raper than a Roper. But he actually wanted this fresh youth. ‘Master Josh’ loved to manipulate his victims. Using their vulnerabilities to live out his vicious fantasies and carelessly ruin their lives. Taking their money, wives, and dignity. As bad as it sounds, Roper was good at that. Falsely assuming that was what actual masterful Alpha men did.

Brian Jackson was only out for a few weeks, and even he knew this was not the way to conquer a Beta man or how to make them submit. Sure, a true Alpha Master might use pain, force, humiliation, or bondage to subdue their partners. He had learned that much from Captain Daniel Carter already. But not like this thieving creep, with his financial domination party tricks.

But Brian had not expected what followed next. He was about to give up on the idea of getting laid. Waiting for the first bus home, sitting in the club’s cruising dungeon by himself. Suddenly, a fat leather bulge poked through the glory hole cabin in the club’s basement, where he sat drinking a cold bottle of water.

Mesmerized by the sudden appearance, Jackson slid off the vinyl-covered mattress to the floor. He instantly set out to worship the hot leather goodie bag. His mistake, for the prancing dick, had nothing good in mind. Josh Roper had smacked his cock down the boy’s throat and slammed his already dizzy head mercilessly to the partition wall. Causing the young man to pass out and droop to the floor.

Master Josh — as he liked to be called by his ‘victims’ — had dragged the drunk boy by his leather harness up the fire escape stairs into the backstreet. Pushing, punching, and kicking the young man. Roper had flung the tipsy twink around the alley like a rag-doll. Despite his butch leather outfit, the slim and nerdy Brian had no recourse but to let it happen. The ex-Marine Drill Sergeant was quite strongly built and dressed like he meant business. However, only the rats in this stinky alley seemed to notice their desperate struggle behind the dumpster.

From all sides, club security staff and Marines from the nearby base rushed toward the scene. To Edwards’s relief, those muscular rescuers quickly yanked Josh Roper away from his classmate. As strong as the well-fit 19-year-old was, he would not have been able to take on Roper by himself.

Instead, Mark Edwards and a medic from the Marine base lay Brian Jackson on a discarded mattress. Meanwhile, the Marines and Club staff subdued Josh Roper. Well, subdued may have been the wrong term here. They collectively beat the crap out of the man. The fitted leather jacket he wore got ripped off his bulging shoulders. And his offensive tattoos got ‘colored in’ with flailing fists and swinging batons. All the Marines and the Mountain staff, so it seemed, had personal beef with master Josh.

Josh Roper, a former brutal Drill Sergeant in the Marine Corps, had robbed and abused many of them. And so far, he had gotten away with it. Were it not for Captain Daniel Carter. When Roper tried his party trick on Tony Jackson a few years ago, he fucked with the wrong people. The Captain got Roper dishonorably discharged. And the vermin only just managed to weasel out of the impending court-martial.

Well, Josh had not counted on the boy’s older brother arriving in the alley. He certainly would not have guessed that Daniel Carter had practically adopted Brian Jackson, either.
“You fucking asshole!” screamed Tony Jackson in Josh Roper’s face. One fist on the startled throat of the vermin, hanging in a pincer-like grip of two enormous club bouncers. Tony’s other arm was pulled back to release the coiled tension in one all-devastating fell swoop.

“What’s he to you? He’s just a filthy faggot… I saw him suck that foul nigger bartender. He had his face covered in his dirty black seed…” Josh hollered back with narcissistic, racist rage. Spitting at Lieutenant Jackson.
Although taken aback by the racist slur, Tony just smirked proudly. Envisioning his little brother’s ebony conquest. Thinking hotly, “… Once you go black —.” Lieutenant Jackson had seen his lil bruv blow a hung black dude once before.

Scott Manson, however, did not take kindly to his bartender’s name getting dragged through the mud like that. The older club owner ripped off his belt and started strapping Roper across the back. Causing the bare-chested creep to crumble to the ground again. Scott’s husband, Greg, had to stop him from drawing blood. Although, he gave Roper a dropkick between the legs that made the dude scream in agony. Planting his face into the rat-shit-covered floor where he belonged.

Tony grabbed the fake gold harness and yanked the asshole up from the alley floor again. He was about to headbutt Josh into oblivion when Captain Carter pulled his man away from the beast.
Screaming in his face, “… You owe my brother-in-law a new pair of pants, Asshole!”

The club staff took hold of ‘master Josh’ and also ripped the leather fuck jeans off. Throwing it to the side. Mark caught them and looked between the ripped gray Chinos and these heavy leather pants. Realizing the allure they held for someone like Jackson.
However, Daniel Carter’s reference to Brian as his brother-in-law made Mark realize that these Marines were there to protect Brian Jackson from further harm. He had warned the security staff himself. But, Mark had not figured out what the Marines were doing here behind the club at this early hour of the morning.

Captain Daniel Carter harshly commanded his men, “… Guys, let’s show Raper what he has been doing wrong all this time. I bet he has never been gang fucked himself!”
A shiver passed through the group of rescuers at these words.
Josh Roper — or Raper as Daniel called him — got a look of complete and utter dread in his eyes. He knew he was in for it now! What would the Mountain’s security staff and these Marines do to him? These guys, including the older club owners Scott and Greg Manson, were all built like brick field latrines.

All of them knew how to stand their ground. And, although not all gay, these men knew a hole is a hole if you need relief. Raper had used and abused some of these guys. He blackmailed them or extorted money from them in other ways. Telling on them to their wives and girlfriends. Breaking up their happy relationships just for cheating on them with Roper’s young whores or the anal sex he forced them to have with him.

Carter was right. Josh Roper never let anyone near his back door. Although, he kicked in plenty of them himself. Roper had always claimed he wasn’t gay. But Tony and Daniel knew better. And in this early morning hour, they were going to show ‘master Josh’ what it felt like to become a bitch.

More club staff rushed outside. Laden with ropes, cuffs, and leather belts. Together with the Marines, Roper got spread-eagled and tightly bound. A heavy dildo gag was thrust deeply into the protesting mouth of the naked bitch. And a sturdy bondage gag face harness was strapped over the brute’s face. Leaving only his nose and eyes exposed. Keeping the gag lodged in his mouth.

But that was not all. Roper’s arms and legs were bound with coarse ropes to two poles behind him. Binding the heavily tattooed arms and legs at 90-degree angles from his body. Hanging defeatedly in ropes and chains now fastened to his extremities. Leaving the straight Marines and Mark Edwards looking puzzled at the developing devastating scene. However, Scott Manson, Tony Jackson, and Mr Carter knew precisely where they were going with this punishment.

“Johnsen! Garcia!…“ he called to two Marines, “… Roll those large garbage containers under the fire escape. Leave a space between them. We are going to string this piggy up and take his hole. He needs to learn what that feels like!”

Thinking for a sec on how to punish Josh Roper best and teach him a lesson he would not soon forget, Carter snorted derisively, “… Dzhabar Asskeroff, didn’t you tell me you want to show off your punching ball skills?” called Daniel to one of the meanest-looking Marines around.
Asskeroff, a Drill Sergeant by day and a vicious street fighter by night, knew his way around a boxing ring and a training center.
“Ha… Sir, Yes, Sir,” he barked, springing to a salute. But looking puzzled around, he asked, “Only… Umm… Sir, I would need a punching ball to —”

But the Mountain staff seemed to understand what Carter was getting at. They had seen him tie up plenty of house boys at the club. Rope bondage was sort of Daniel’s and Scott’s thing. They hoisted Raper, bound and gagged, over the dumpsters. Leaving only his nuts and ass sticking out. They swung lower than the rest of his bound body. Asskeroff smirked dirty as he watched Greg Manson string this impromptu speed-punching ball to the fire escape landing above. Keeping Roper suspended, improbably upright, between and on top of the two dirty dumpsters.

One of the club’s bouncers rummaged in his black dress pants and removed a wide neon-red silicone ball stretcher from his scrotum. Snapping it violently over Roper’s hairy sack. Stretching the balls tightly and extending the nuts even lower.
Dzhabar Asskeroff took his position and gave the men a speed-ball boxing exhibition. Fist swung hand over hand, connecting with the balls. Josh Roper screamed through his ball gag. But the dildo muffled all sounds.

By now, Josh Roper, the former master, had turned victim to his own wrongdoing. All he could do was beg, grimace, and whimper. He knew what was going to happen to his nuts. Josh shook his head as fists started to connect at such speed they looked like a blur. The fact that Asskeroff had put on Roper’s metal-reinforced biker gloves did not reduce the pain. On the contrary, the nutsack turned an even brighter shade of glowing red than the silicone ball stretcher.

One by one, the Marines, the club owners, and their staff took turns on the boney punching bag. Trying to come up with ever more painful punishments. Yet keeping it within reason. Something Raper liked to forget. Every misdeed of this robber, thief, drug pusher, and home wrecker went past their peer review. Giving him the court-martial he deserved. The former Drill Sergeant got drilled out to the bone. Teaching him what his actions felt like to the men he abused for far too long.

And the lesson Joshua ‘Rapist’ Roper was forced to learn was simple; “Don’t fuck with the wrong people. Or their friends will take revenge.” Josh Roper learned what it felt like to become a group bitch. The master had never been fucked before. But you could park an M1 Abrams tank in there now and still swing the turret around a full 360 degrees.

And once the boxing, whipping, and fisting exhibition in the alley was done, Roper got dragged back up the Mountain Club. He got tied over a fuck bench on the attic theater stage and left to the last of the patrons. And even though the club was about to close, a surprisingly long line of men, and women, formed behind him. What they did to Roper, we don’t know. And even if we did, we would not tell. He deserved what they gave him for abusing the poor, nerdy, drunk, 18-year-old ass virgin, Brian Jackson.

A helping hand.

Tony Jackson rushed to the side of his younger brother. Mark Edwards and a Medic from the Marine base had looked him over. Brian lay on a ripped mattress where he moaned in an alcohol-infused delirium of fright, pain, and sleepiness. The Medic told Lieutenant Jackson, “… He will be okay… Keep an eye on him, but let him sleep it off. No lasting damage was done apart from the minor cuts and bruises.”

Tony introduced himself to Mark as Daniel Carter steadied his man. Lieutenant Jackson was trembling with rage.
“Hi, haven’t met…” said Daniel in a soothing voice to Mark. Shaking Edwards warmly by the hand. Saying, “… But Brian has talked about you, of course. You must be Mark Edwards. I’ve submitted your name for a full scholarship at MIT via the Marine Corps… Umm… Are you two lovers?” he asked quizzically.

“Huh? What…? How… Thanks, Sir… But?… Umm… No, Brian gave me the runaround all night. Never staying in one place long enough for me to make my move. But, fuck, is he going to be okay? I mean, I like him… and we did talk about him renting a room at my place near Cambridge… But lovers?… Fuck, I wish that is true. I would let him stick that huge 10-inch dick in me anytime,” sighed Edwards. Feeling too obviously horny as hell. Shivering slightly. He had taken off his hoodie to cover up Brian’s exposed dick. Although, Tony and Daniel knew all too well that those shivers had nothing to do with the morning chill.

“It’s been a long night. It’s almost eight already. Are you sober enough to drive my brother-in-law home?” Daniel Carter asked Mark.
“I think so… Brian is the drunk here… I stuck to sodas all night.”
Tony Jackson laughed and smacked Edwards a little too forcibly on the chest with the back of his hand.

Saying, “… Mark, drive him home and put him to bed… Stay with him. Shit, crawl into bed with him if you need a beauty sleep too. Fuck it’s late. But NO SEX! Well, not until he says he’s ready for you.”
“Yeah, he might puke over your dick if you start mixing your cum with his alcohol,” laughed Daniel Carter. Pulling in the 19-year-old twink for a firm one-armed hug. Tony took Edward’s other arm, and the three of them came to a wordless understanding.

“One thing…” said Mark shyly. “I have a car, but I don’t know where Brian lives. Shit, we only exchanged phone numbers. And it’s not like I have a key. I know his parents aren’t at home… But still —”
“Don’t worry about it. Brian won’t mind. I think the key is in one of his boots. That’s the only place Raper did not look for cash. And you can follow me to his home as you take Tony and Brian to sleep it off,” said the Captain. Quickly giving Edwards a brief kiss on the lips and squeezing a buttock.

“And take those leather pants from Raper with you. I bet you look great in them. Brian loves a man in leather!” breathed Tony hotly to Mark. Taking the same approach as his lover but grabbing the boy gently by the nuts. Massaging the twink’s engorged shaft to feel what he was packing.
Edwards did not flinch as such. But he was a little surprised by the forward actions of these muscular Marines.

Tony held the door open as Mark lifted Brian from his car and into the hallway. One of the neighbors watched the four men as they disappeared into the Jackson residence from across the street. She was wondering what they had done to the Jackson boy or why he needed to be carried inside.

Daniel guided Mark up the stairs to Brian’s bedroom. Tony got a massive grin on his face when he saw his old kingsized bed and leather cowhide rug draped butchly on the wall behind the headboard. Even Daniel smiled, seeing the stack of condoms and a bottle of lube on Brian’s bedside table. Picking up the black pulsating vibrator to give it a spin. Mark’s eyes lit up as he heard the toy pulsate and buzz merrily. Edwards had heard B play with that thing when he called him last week.

Brian Jackson stirred and repositioned himself a little as Mark Edwards pulled a warm sheet over his sweaty, naked body. The boy’s impressive limp dick flopped over his stomach as Brian dropped instantly back off to sleep.

“Let him sleep it off. Here is a bucket if he needs to puke. I’ve told him to go easy on the alcohol… Lil bruv is a lightweight,” Tony joked softly.
“These are our phone numbers,” said Daniel Carter, adding, “… Crawl in bed with him. Keep him warm, but let him wake up naturally. There is cold water and snacks in the fridge next to his desk. The toilet is across the landing. I don’t think B minds if you use his toothbrush,” Daniel winked.
“Or that dildo…” laughed TJ seductively, saying, “… Fuck, you’re cute, Mark. If you dress up in some leather, B will melt in your mouth,” sighed Tony to the quarterback. Who eyed at the life-like ebony dong longingly as it was replaced on Brian’s bedside table. Mark raised his eyebrows and yawned.

“Call if you need us, Mark. We’ll let ourselves out!” said Carter urgently as he watched Mark strip out his t-shirt and jeans. Leaving the hunk to crawl next to Brian under the cover.
Lying propped on one arm, Mark watched Brian sleep. His eyeballs raced from left to right. The Jackson lad was dreaming. And he wasn’t enjoying the nightmare, or so it seems. Not until Mark curled a gentile hand over the boy’s glowing hot shaft did he seem to calm down. As Edwards started to jack his classmate off a little, he heard Brian moan in his sleep, “… That’s it bitch… Suck me, Edwards… I know you want to… Swallow my load… Go deeper… Yeah… Take me… Who cares what the others say if they find out… I know they are jealous of us… Eat my jizz, Mark… Swallow it all.”

Mark watched pearls of sweat beading on Brian’s brow. The 18-year-old classmate, however, had dropped back to sleep. Mark ducked under the sheet to observe the long dick deflate. Leaving a thick drop of pre-cum oozing out of the exposed piss-slit. Edwards could not help himself. He licked his tongue over the head. Sucking up the sweet pre-cum with relish. Looking up at Brian to see if he had noticed. Brian Jackson just wetted his lips and continued sleeping.

The athlete quarterback, Mark, has topped a few guys these past two years. He learned that his massive arms and shoulders scared a few of them. But despite his 6 feet 1 inch, firm muscular weight, and course tongue, he much preferred to get his ass nailed doggy style than having to plow a sissy. Not that Edwards minded fucking ass… He took plenty of women like that. But that was more to avoid getting them knocked up accidentally.

Last year, the quarterback football senior introduced Brian to his gang of jocks. Sneakily Jacking off together around the school grounds and the gymnasium locker rooms. The men were mightily impressed. Not so much by Jackson’s 6 feet 3 inches nor his slim and nerdy appearance. No, this nerdy guy was exceptionally well-hung. Even limp, Brian outclassed most of them with 7 inches of man meat. And hard? Well, as soon as Jackson was about to dump a load during their famous circle jerks, the man grew to an impressive 10 inches at least.

Ha, knowing that, Mark and his friends told a few of the girls at school about it. Getting the nerdy boy instantly laid after the senior prom. But Jackson was too much of a gentleman to tell. But the friends had shared a few unspoken words and horny glances. Expecting both of them to have some curiosity left to explore.

And boy, did they explore each other when Brian finally woke up around one o’clock. Mark was happy, yet surprised, to learn that Brian wanted to get deflowered and bred by him first. They smiled, laughed, and cried a little. Taking Brian’s virginity was a breeze. Taking Jackson’s sexual wrath dressed in leather took a little getting used to. But this was exactly what both men had been hoping for.

Brian took Mark on Daniel’s cross bike to the private Mountain Club later that Saturday evening for dinner. The Jackson boy walked a little funny, but that was more due to the beating ‘master Josh’ had given him than the rough sex the two horny twinks had. They could not stop touching each other. They had arranged to meet the people Brian met yesterday. Dressed in full leather.

Mark wore the creeps fuck pants and Tony’s old leather posing pouch. His black trainers looked cool under the leather. A clean white polo shirt of Brian’s and his harness hugged his muscular form. And Brian’s classic leather jacket completed the rugged look.
Brian wore the Velcroed jeans and thin leather chaps Tony left him. He slipped on the black cowboy boots with metal points. Turning the 6 feet 3-inch nerdy lad into a tall 6 feet 5 rugged biker man. The thick, collarless biker jacket protected his thin bare chest. The thin biker vest underneath was only there for show. Yet it completed the cool look Brian Jackson was going for.

Before they departed from Jackson’s garage, Mark took his man into his arms and gave his body to Brian. Sticking his tongue into his leather man and feeling the heavy leather creak under their embrace. Two young twinks in full leather, enjoying each other’s horny company. Intoxicated on the smell of omnipresent leather and man musk. Feeling their stomachs growl as they wanted to devour the guys they were about to meet. Both have a lot to learn about the leather scene, bondage, and domination. But eager and willing to do so.

Dinner and a taste for more.

As Brian rolled up to the club, one of the bouncers he met last night rushed up to greet the twinks. Jackson smirked at the queer bodybuilder. The man was around Daniel’s age, in his early thirties, but acted more like a seasoned daddy. Worriedly asking the twinks if they were okay.
Brian grabbed the man’s leather bomber and leaned over to kiss the big guy. Jackson grabbed the guy’s massive hand and pushed it between his legs and the gas tank. Asking with a dirty grin, “… Where can I park this thing?” Adding, “… You’ll have to tell me what happened in the alley.”

The doorman, Mr Thomas, smiled warmly and squeezed Mark on the shoulder. Giving the 19-year-old a wet smooch on the cheek, too. Replying, “… Ha, And you two need to tell us what you did after you got home. Park that machine —” he looked hornily between Jackson’s legs for a fleeting moment and continued, “… on the side in the staff parking lot.”
Mr Thomas pointed to the gates on the side of the building. One of his brash colleagues saw him point and rushed to the keypad to unlock the sliding metal gates.

As Brian and Mark parked beside the club, a staff member rolled up behind them. It was Antwan Prince. A Dutch Caribbean hunk of a bartender. Tonight, dressed in sleek black sweats, cowboy boots, and a gorgeously sporty leather pilot jacket.
“This is the guy I told you about,” said Brian to his man. Waving to Antwan. The bartender rushed over with a wide, toothy grin.

“Shit, man, you two cleaned up nicely,” he said with an approving look at the twinks leather biker outfits.
It sounded as if Edward’s heart skipped a beat as he blurted out, “… Where did you get that bomber from? I need to get myself one of those! Man, that’s the kind of leather I could go for, B!” Mark lustfully stroked a hand over the sporty leathers of the ebony hunk. Sincerely worshipping the sexy, dark man.

Antwan grinned proudly, but addressed Brian, “… Is this the guy that’s replacing me? I was ready to take you home last night, but I could not find you. I figured you’d left. But this morning, I heard… Damn, Jackson… Are you okay, Boi? I’ve warned you to stay away from that Josh creep!”
“Hmm… It’s hard to know whose leather bulge is pressed through the glory hole, you know. I wished it were yours, though. I still want to feel that black dick load my ass,” joked Brian, hugging Antwan. Whispering in his ear, “… This is Mark Edwards, my knight in leather armor. But don’t be jealous. He’s a great cock gobbler, too.”

Brian turned to face Mark as he yanked Antwan’s sweatpants down. Showing off the massive ebony 9-inch tool to his man. Hooking the elastic below his low-swinging black nuts.
Ordering Mark rudely, “… Warm him up for my ass!”
Antwan let out a barking laugh and jiggled his impressive limp dick a little. He placed a hand on Mark’s head and pushed the eager twink rudely to his knees.

Mark took the 9-inch veined ebony schlong into his mouth, and Brian hissed to Antwan, “… Throat him!”
Antwan looked between the two, and Mark Edwards nodded. With his pearly whites flashing, the horny gay bartender grabbed hold of Edwards’s head and lunged forward. Squashing the heavy tool ruthlessly in his throat. Mark’s mouth made nastily wet, slurpy, slobbering sounds as Prince used the boy’s mouth behind some cars in the secluded parking lot.

The cock was limp when it got sucked down. But hard and considerably wider when it came out. Brian Jackson had kneeled next to his man, watching him eat cock like a starved hobo.
In turn, Brian looked up at Antwan as he lifted the hard tool to his own mouth. Showing Mark that his skills did not do under for him. Jackson swallowed the throbbing black dick with relish. All the while keeping eye contact with Antwan, no matter how heavy his face fucking thrusts became.

After a while, Antwan screamed, “… Off… Off… I am… Get off… let’s save this load for later. I want to screw both of you’es! Fuck, you guys look so hot.”
Antwan panted urgently after several minutes of deep-throating fun in the nasty parking lot.
“Hmm… It’s a date… Threesome it is! I’ll nail Mark in a sling, and you breed me a couple of rounds, Prince.”
“How… Huh?… How… do you know my last name? We only use our first names in the club…” Antwan asked, shocked.
“I have met your older brother and his hairy Mexican friend in women’s underwear. Long story. Don’t ask.” laughed Brian.

The three men walked merrily arm in arm into the clubs’ staff entrance, past the kitchens. Greg greeted them and guided the happy threesome up to the second floor. Brian unhooked himself from Antwan and stopped Mr Manson. “Thanks for the help yesterday, Sir. It turned out all for the best, though. I think the guy next to Antwan may be the one for me.” Brian sighed happily.

Greg gave the boy a meaningful fatherly hug, saying, “… Stuff like yesterday almost never happens in our club. So don’t judge us too harshly. Daniel and Scott invited a few friends to make it up to you. You’ll know most of them. Just a nice dinner and an informal get-together dressed in some casual leather. And later… Well, you and that guy are welcome to stay for an afterparty. Scott and I talked with your brother and Daniel. Damn, boy, if you need a summer job, just say the word! Here are two VIP cards. Your drinks and the houseboys are on us.”

The boy walked proudly up to the club’s second floor with Greg Manson. Several elegantly decked circular dinner tables were placed on the dance floor. But most of the men hung around the club’s bar. He saw Mark nursing on one of Daniel’s pierced nips. He got his leather-clad ass patted by Armando, the hairdresser that gave Brian his new spiky bleached hairdo last week. Well, Armando had opened the ass zipper of Roper’s old fuck pants and had rudely pushed his nimble hand inside to play with Mark’s throbbing hole.

Brian saw his older brother deep in conversation with the sissy Cuban gym owner and masseuse, Fabian Batista, and a couple of the security staff he met yesterday. The Jackson lad rushed to his side and tapped him on the shoulder.
“BRIAN! THERE YOU ARE!” he screamed, and everyone watched the two hug and kiss.
“How are you? —” TJ started to ask, but Brian stopped him in his tracks.

Jackson looked beamingly up and down the bar, watching the 30 horny, tough-looking men. He raised his arms — Stopping all conversation, heavy petting, and bro-bonding — and clearly spoke, “… Before I have to explain this a dozen times… I am perfectly fine. I’m a little bruised, but I’m more than fine, actually. I had a great time yesterday. And found a big hunky surprise sleeping next to me this morning.”

Taking a moment to approach Mark Edwards, Brian said warmly to the guys, “... For those who don’t know, this is Mark Edwards. I’ll be moving in with him once we go to MIT together. I am not hurt enough to want to explore my gay feelings some more tonight. Maybe I will get to know all of you a bit better. I like this place! I like men in leather! So, thanks for making an effort. Damn, you all look so hot! Thanks for the help yesterday. But… Umm… What does a guy need to do around here to get a drink and some grub?” Brian beamed at the big, beefy men and the sexy, lean houseboys.

It was true. Even the bulky Marines had changed outfits for some casual leather gear with jeans. Or even some skinhead bleachers and army green bombers.
Brian Jackson got filled in about this morning’s events. Hearing how the men took turns ‘educating’ the ass virgin Josh, making him their bitch. Showing Roper that unwanted sex is no fun if you’re on the receiving end. Especially not if the rapist had never experienced what rough sex felt like himself.

Rough sex can be nice, if done right. But consent, trust, and understanding make it even better.
After dinner, before opening time, the party moved to the Mountain’s attic. Brian Jackson hooked Mark into a sling and felt shivers down his spine as a big ebony cock found its way past the velcroed jeans and leather chaps into his hole. Many a rubber party balloon got filled, and all the men enjoyed the evening. Even those who typically didn’t go for gay anal on the first date.

The two Jackson lads, Carter, and Edwards, called it an early night. Brian had enough sex to last him into next year… Well, no. He had not, but he was good until next Thursday.
Brian’s homophobic father and mother returned home early on the day Brian moved most of his belongings out. They did not know Tony, Daniel, and Mark were there too. Nor that their second son found a new direction in life. Turning gay all the way. Just like their oldest. Enjoying his new life choices and the friends that came with them.

Burning all the bridges that linked Brian to a decade of oppression at home. His parents had meant well, or so the young man thought. But their ideas just did not match his feelings. And their actions had pushed both their sons away.

That evening, Brian Jackson found himself lying on his back, bound to the bed by both arms and legs in Daniel’s poolhouse. Getting the living daylights whipped out of him. And enjoying every stroke and prod. Every spit and kiss. Every raw thrusting ass penetration that Leather Master DC gave the leather-loving bondage Jackson lad.

Brian learned so much and was ready to explore the leather scene in Boston. Far away from parents who could not, or would not, love him for who he was.

Life can do strange things to you when you least expect it. Let it, enjoy it!

• The End •

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Thank you for reading this story.
Please give it a 👍 Like or a Comment if you are inclined to do so.
And if your hands are not too dirty from all the spilled cum! 😋

©  StrykerJ – March-2025.

My body trembled as I hoisted myself onto the flatbed of his truck. 

Whether the trembles were from nerves or excitement, I couldn’t tell. I was hypnotized and desperate to be used by this rugged stranger. 

“Yeah that is grade a jock pussy right there,” he said and I could feel his warm breath tickling the sweaty hairs in my deep trench.

“Oh fuck yeah!” I growled as he viciously, almost violently drove his tongue into my hole. 

He chewed, licked spat, spanked, and ravaged my ass. The coarse hairs of his stubble scraped the sensitive skin surrounding my hungry, hairy cunt. It felt incredible and was making me absolutely feral.

I couldn’t resist pushing back into his face. I hadn’t noticed the cheap comforter laid out across the flatbed of his truck when I climbed up, but I was grateful it was there. Not bothering to wonder how many men had been fucked on the thin worn blanket, I collapsed forward so my chest was bracing my upper body so I could reach back and spread my fat cheeks apart, hoping the assault on my pucker would get more invasive. 

I could feel his growls vibrating inside me. Every deep grunt sent precum surging from my rigid cock that was aching for freedom from the tight, moist confines of my jockstrap.

Between his aggressive tongue fucking and the earlier fingering, not to mention the smells lingering in my beard and penetrating my nostrils, as well as the fact that all this was happening in the middle of the forest with a total stranger, I knew I wouldn’t last long. I couldn’t help myself I reached between my legs but my hand was swiftly swated away and guided back to my abandoned cheek, all while his tongue snaked deeper into my wanton hole.

“Fuck me, daddy,” I whimpered desperately.

“You want my big cock stretching out your tight cunt?”

“Please, sir.”

I had never been so turned on by being such a submissive cock hungry slut but I was into it more than I could’ve imagined.

The truck sagged from the weight of his body climbing up and I felt the heat of his thick legs on either side of my hips with my ass still perched in the air. His rough hands grab my waist and before I know it I’m being lifted off my knees and flipped on my back. 

I blink a few times, letting my eyes adjust to see his silhouette towering over me. He still has his hat and glasses on but nothing else restricts any part of him except for his worn boots. If I weren’t so distracted by the thick piece of dripping meat jutting out and curving up from his unkempt salt and pepper bush I probably would have been disappointed that the rank threadbare jock was no longer on his solid, beefy body. 

“You like this, faggot?” he growls as his fingers wrap around the base of his shaft and heavy low hangers. 

“Yes sir,” I whispered, hypnotized by and hungry for it. 

“Be a good girl? Get it nice and wet?”

It wasn’t a question, it was an order. There was no time to answer even if it was – his free hand had tangled in my hair and yanked my face to his crotch, giving me just enough time to open my mouth. My tongue was rewarded with the gooey tip of his cock slapping my outstretched tongue a few times. I wasn’t sure if I should close my lips around it and start sucking but I knew it wasn’t really up to me anyway. I savored the taste of his precum with every wet smack.

“That’s it, use your tongue, clean up all that baby batter.”

He made it so easy to submit and I had never been so happy to take orders. 

I used every trick I knew to make him moan like an obedient hungry cock sucker, swirling my tongue around the bulbous spongey tip, tracing and lapping everywhere, making sure to lick up every drop of steadily flowing precum. It was bitter, salty, but not sour and I couldn’t get enough. Worshiping the fat head only made me more desperate, he could sense it too. 

“I got me a real starved faggot,” he laughed as he yanked my hair back and spat into my mouth.

I was going to swallow it and say thank you sir but before I could, his thick meat was pushing past my lips, tongue, and forcing it’s way down my throat as he pulled my head toward his musky crotch. 

I had about three-quarters of him down, I could taste and smell all the piss, cum, and sweat as he held me there. My cock was so hard, straining my jock as I worked my cheeks and tongue on his shaft, breathing through my nose so I didn’t choke. 

“Fuck, that’s good,” he growled and slapped my cheek. 

He yanked me back, and I gasped for air. 

“Like the way a real man’s cock tastes?”

“Yes sir,” I panted with drool hanging from my lips. 

He pulled me in again, not stopping this time until my nose was crushed against his pelvis and he held me there by wrapping one of his bulbous calves over my shoulders. I did my best not to gag, spit was pouring from the corners of my mouth as my throat muscles contracted around him. I wanted to be the best little faggot I could and with stinging eyes, I looked up into my reflection in his glasses. 

It was so fucking hot watching myself be used by this stranger.

“Oh fuck, that’s it, that’s it,” he groaned, nodding with a lusty smile as his hands worked on his nipples.

He used his leg to start guiding me back and forth, switching between short quick pumps and long slow deep plunges. Every thrust made his heavy sack smack my chin as spit poured from my mouth around his cock and my body wretched. 

The relentless skull fucking was getting to be too much but I knew it wasn’t up to me. All I could do was grab his beefy ass and brace for dear life as sweat and tears blurred my eyes that never stopped staring up at him. 

I knew I could have pushed him off me, but I loved every second of being used, truly allowing me to give up all control in a way I never had.

“Fuck, that mouth is good, slut.” he said holding me all the way down, “But I can’t get my girl pregnant down her throat.”

Just as I was on the verge of blacking out he finally withdrew. 

I had only a few seconds to gasp and sputter before he kicked my legs open and knelt between them. He looked so fucking hot, dripping in sweat, his cock dripping with my slobber – all of him glistening in the sun. 

I knew what was coming next and was as excited as I was nervous based on the rough throat fucking. I could feel my hole tingle in anticipation and there was no way I wasn’t going to at least try to take a pounding from this beast.

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This is chapter 3 of this story. To read chapters 4-8 (already posted), early access to weekly updates/postings, steamy illustrations, and get access to 30+ other series with 100s of chapters of hot, kinky content, visit my Patreon. (www.patreon.com/adencamp)