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cock-loverr · 4 days

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STORY TIME: Best Friends

BEYOND GAY, or .... FUCKING PERFECT

(For all other parts to this story, scroll down to prior post.)

So there I am, on the new deck, pretending that I'm not a little cum-high, wiping my spermy hand on my ass, trying to block the view of Axel, who is behind me, cursing and stumbling into his own shorts, when the UPS truck slides and skids to a halt and I'm thinking that's probably not how you should drive those big-ass trucks, but then I see why, cuz out jumps this thick, bearded, muscular, hairy dude wearing those brown shorts that are both completely dorky and totally hot - at the same time - and he's got this snarl on his face that could be a smile cuz it may have occurred to him that he's caught us in the act, but he could also be at the end of his shift and wondering what the fuck these two nearly naked dudes needed to order from UPS that took him fifteen miles off of his route.

"Morning," I say, stupidly, and he replies -

"Afternoon," correcting me - pointedly - cuz it's nearly five and like I said, I'm still cum-high.

So I blush red, cuz that's my thing, and the driver smirks, suddenly enjoying whatever it is he's stumbled onto, and then I see his fucking legs, which are thick as tree-trunks and one's got this whole tattoo wrapping up from his ankle to his thigh, disappearing into those dorky-but-hot trunks and suddenly I want to see where the tattoo goes.

Then I turn to look at Axel, hoping he'll help me out, but fuck if he ain't blushing, too, which is hard to do when you're brown as him.

And speaking of brown, Driver says, "Which one of you is Axel?"

And I'm still looking at my bro, who's blushing, as I said, which means he's turned this amazing maroon color that I can't keep my eyes off of, and also the driver's tat, which is hot as fuck, and before either me or Axel can say anything, because Axel is realizing he's got his shorts on backward, which is funny as fuck to me, but obviously not to Axel, driver goes: "Hang on - don't tell me - let me guess."

Then he cracks us a smile like he's on our side - and maybe more than that - and he crosses his arm (more tats) and puffs out his chest a bit and gives us each a once over.

Then, quick as a whip, he tosses the small box he got in his hand, and says, "Think fast, Axel."

And damn if my bro hasn't recovered by now and snatches that shit right out of the air.

Quick as hell and one-handed.

And I say, "Good guess."

And he says, "I'm good at names."

And Ax - who, as I said, is rarely pissed off, shows just a bit of tension as he says, 'My man - what if this was fragile?"

And driver, not skipping a beat, looks at him and says, "It's weed, bro. It's been stankin' up my truck all afternoon. If I was ballsy - which I am - I'd ask you to roll one for me, but you might be some kind of UPS Police and I need the paycheck."

Axel just stands there with his mouth open and his shorts on backward, still with a bit of 'goon-aura' around him, all of which is funny as fuck to me, so I start giggling that kind of giggle where you can't stop yourself, even though you try, and Driver says:

"Plus, I grow my own, so I got plenty, thanks."

He smirks, laughing a bit as he turns heel, giving us a view of an impressive, thick, v-shaped back, more of that damn tat and an ass that looks like it's gonna international-arrest those dorky shorts, cuz covering that up is a crime against humanity.

Even Axel is impressed - I can tell, though I'm still trying not to laugh ... unsuccessfully.

"Have a good day, fellas," Driver says, grabbing the side mirror and swinging up into the cab.

Then he winks at us from behind the glass and guns the engine, but by now Ax has recovered himself and shouts out, "Hey - dude - bro!"

And then he strides off the deck, approaching the truck, and Driver sticks his head out the side door.

"'Sup?"

"Sorry, dude," Ax says. "Didn't mean to be an asshole - you just surprised us is all."

"Oh - I know," Driver says, eyes sparkling a bit. "Cuz you got your shorts on backwards, bro."

At which point I laugh out loud, and UPS dude smirks, part smile, part threat, all bearded, so I ain't sure what side he's on, except the tat and the muscles probably give it away, and the fact he's playing a pretty sexy 'fuck-with-you' game that's got my balls roiling and Axel on his heels, which hardly ever happens - ever.

"So - that it then?" Driver asks, leaving the door open just a crack, but mostly implying that he wants to get off his shift and on with his life, even though the tone implies he may be open to a little more than that, but Ax has other ideas, cuz he's always been the ideas-man.

"Uhhh .... yeah - I mean - if you need to get back on your route, that's cool, but what I was gonna ask, uh, sir," Axel says, throwing in his Polite Southern Shit that he does so well -

"Call me Henry - "

"Aiight, Henry," Ax says, but it's not convincing, and I don't blame him cuz Dude the Driver doesn't strike me as a Henry.

"You see, this here is his place," he says, pointing at me. "And he don't know anyone out here, and I'm just helping out for a few days cuz I'm his best friend, and since I got here I been thinking my buddy needs to stop being such a cheap sonofabitch and get his ass some professional help, so I was wondering - do you know any good carpenters or contractors around here?"

And then Driver looks at Ax - and then at me - and he smiles a big smile, for real, and shuts off the engine, hops out of the truck and strides up to Axel.

"Yeah - I know someone. Me."

And then he sticks out his hand and Axel takes it, and they have a grip-fest, which neither of 'em win, but Axel is having more trouble than he lets on, cuz even though he's got Driver in height, by a fair amount, he ain't got him in muscle, and suddenly I'm looking at two studs going one-on-one and I'm gettin all the wrong ideas.

"I'm Henry."

"You told me that," Axel says finally getting some of his 'smart-ass' back, and Henry replies:

"Yeah - but everyone calls me Hank."

"I'm Axel," Ax says, and Henry says, also smart-assedly, "Uhh yeah - I know -"

"But everyone calls me Ax."

And there's this pause as the two wonder about how much more they're gonna fuck with each other, and then Henry, AKA Hank, busts out a huge loud laugh, and here comes Axel's smile, and the next thing I know Hank's coming up to me, shaking my hand, giving me his card, which reads, I kid you fucking not: Henry David Thoreau, Contractor/Carpenter.

I raise my eyebrows and he catches my vibe: "Don't ask. Mom's was a Major in American Literature. What's your name, son?" he asks, like he's my daddy or something, but then I see the couple of strands of gray in his chest-hair and a few more in his beard and suddenly that don't seem like a bad thing, and then Axel says, "Caden - dude - " and I realize I been staring, and here comes the blush back, hard, and I say, "Caden. My name is Caden Carter -"

"CC for short," Hank says, grabbing my hand, hard, shaking it.

"Naw - not really," I respond, trying to be assertive and Hank says, "Yeah, really. CC. For short. It fits you."

"Sure does, CC," says Axel, like an asshole, and they just laugh at that while I blush and then Hank steps up on the deck and looks around and says, "Why the fuck you need me? You boys doing fine here - this is good work."

"Yeah - well -" says Axel, about to point inside when Hank stops, looking down, and sees our sperm.

"Hang on - " he says, and I mutter under my breath and Axel turns away, half mortified and half hillar-ified, and Hank turns to both of us and says, "But damn, boys - never heard of that before: using cum as a deck sealant."

I just look down, shaking my head, blushing even harder than I have been, which is pretty fucking hard - I must be red as a goddamn tomato - and Axel is trying to stop himself from laughing, while also puffing himself up in case he has to beat some ass, which both of us probably think is doubtful, but ya never know these days. Ya never know.

Meanwhile, Henry David Thoreau with his muscles and his body hair and his tat is having the time of his life up on the stage - by which I mean, the new deck - extolling the virtues of cum as a sealant.

"I mean - that's a lot of loads, to cover a space like this - but you got a good start at least."

Then he walks over to both pools of spew, looking down at each.

"A damn good start," he grumbles, giving a distinct whistle that shows obvious respect.

He looks up at us and says, "Who's is whose?"

And I am seriously about to answer that jack-assed question but Henry David Thoreau ain't having none of that - cuz he barks out, just like he did before, "Hang on - don't tell me - let me guess."

By now Axel is laughing, and I'm just a bucket of blushing white-boy, trying to recover some sense of control, even as Thoreau squats down and puts his fingers in Axel's pud-puddle and mutters, "Damn. Thick."

He pulls up a sluggy string and sniffs it - then tastes it for fuck's sake and says, "Intense. Almost harsh, but in a good way - this here is some baby-making sperm -" and he looks at Axel, then down to my spew-pool, and says, "But this fucking load - Jesus Christ one of you is a shooter- "

"Oh my God," I whisper, not believing I've gotten myself into this scenario and then he reaches down for mine, which is thinner, and closer to dried up by now, but not quite, and he drags a few fingers through, sniffs some more, licks it off the tips and gives a huge smile.

"Aw yeah - that's almost sweet - fuck that's a load worth licking - and whoever it is - you sure as fuck can spray..."

Then his eyes fall on me, and he says, "Can't you, CC?"

At which point Axel laughs louder than I ever heard him, and I shrink even farther into my bright-red blushing skin, and Henry David Thoreau throws back his head and gives a gut-laugh that echoes among the trees.

After about a minute - which seemed like ten - Henry David Thoreau the UPS Driver, Contractor and Carpenter, jumps off the deck, reaches into his back pocket, and hands us each another card.

"This is my personal contact information," he says. "I'd love to help you dudes out - I can come out on Friday after shift, if you'll still be here - you can walk me through the rest of the place and we can ... "

And then he reaches down and adjusts himself and for the first time I see he's packing heat - real heat - and it looks like he ain't wearing anything under those dorky shorts, which can't be part of the uniform code, but up here, in the mountains, Brown probably doesn't give a fuck.

Then I look at the card and it says, "Hank the Crank" with just a cell phone and Twitter handle, and suddenly I piece it all together and damn if I'm not looking square at his crotch which is getting bigger by the second.

"Eyes up, Caden," Hank says, and Axel just laughs again, then there's handshakes all around. "Gotta go finish my route - you boys have fun - get that deck sealed - unless you got other ideas for all that cum, CC."

I keep blushing.

Axel keeps laughing.

"Hell - you can save some for me," he said, jumping in the truck, gunning it and heading out.

Then Axel tossed the box of weed to me as he headed into the house, grabbing his phone along the way.

"Roll us a joint," he called back at me.

"That's your job," I replied.

"You owe me, CC," he called out.

"And I thought you said it was gummies."

"Fucking sister," is all he said, as I followed him into the house ripping open the small box, overcome by the verdant smell of fresh grass.

"Who you texting," I asked Axel, sounding like a jealous lover and hating myself for it -

"Fuck off," he said, not relinquishing his smile. "Checking for dinner joints. Bologna sandwiches don't cut it - I'm hungry as fuck and some bitch I know owes me."

"Bitch better put out," I mumbled, trying to recover myself.

"Oh it's good pussy," he said, winking at me.

"Better be," I replied, pulling out the stash and beginning to cut it.

"It's fucking perfect," he said, putting down the phone, then approaching me.

"Let's get high, baby," he growled, grabbing me by the waist and puling me into his sphere. Then he kissed me - the fucker shocked the hell out of me and kissed me - hard at first, then softer, then long and deep, and I melted into his worked out, still sweaty, frame.

Fucker was right.

It was fucking perfect.

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cock-loverr · 4 days

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cock-loverr · 5 days

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FATHER & SON

Knowledge

I knew what I was doing. Yeah. I knew. I didn’t give a fuck though. The kid was in college now. He was an adult. He could make up his own mind. He could be his own man. My question was this: Would he be man enough to be his own man?

I’d known for years. At first I thought it was just curiosity. You know - natural. I remember when I first got my juice - my brain and body went crazy. I wanted to learn all about girls and guys and pussies and cocks. But, once I had 'the talk’ with him, I figured he’d be more focused on chicks than dicks.

But, he wasn’t. He still lurked around my bathroom. Still gave me the side-eye down at the Y, after our pick-up games.

Even his coaches made comments, without coming right out and fronting it.

“Oh - he’s a good kid. A great kid. Super obedient - you know . . . almost like he likes being told what to do.” I would just look at them, nodding, waiting to see if they had the balls to say what I’d known for years.

But, they never did.

The wrestling coach came the closest to telling me the truth about my son. He said, “Ya know - once he gets some pussy, he’ll probably be fine. He’ll snap right out of it. That’s what happens to most guys, anyway.”

I just smiled, giving him a knowing nod. “Yeah - we’ll see.”

But, he didn’t get any pussy in high school - and he didn’t try - as far as I could tell. Oh, he went to prom with his ‘girlfriend’ but they’d been best-bitches for years - and, I mean that in a nice way. They were friends, nothing more - giggle partners, who liked to shop and share secrets. She was homely and he was the shy, wanna-be jock that spent a little too much time in art class, painting the sets for the annual musicals.

And, all along, he would horn-dog on me. It got a little bold in his senior year, what with the free-balling down at the Y, and his own attempts at strutting-nudity in the hallway, on his side of the house. But, I didn’t take the bait. Wouldn’t. Not with the wife hitting her prime and our marriage going just fine. Not with my daughters coming up next - naw, way too fucking much to lose. I was getting lots of pussy from the old lady, and even though I’d done some dudes back in the day, it wasn’t my primary perv.

But he was in college now. It was parent’s weekend. My wife stayed with the girls, because they had a dance on Saturday and soccer on Sunday - so I was on my own . . . and I had a plan.

I’d held off in his Freshman year, just to make sure he got his feet on the ground and, hopefully, got his lips around some cock. Got his cherry popped, Got some certainty about who he was and what he wanted, without any interference from me. Although I couldn’t be sure he’d lost his virginity, I was pretty certain that was the case. When he came home for the summer he was more sure of himself - more comfortable in his own skin. He didn’t lie to us about girlfriends or pretend to be straight. When his mom asked about dating he was evasive, but he didn’t bullshit us, either.

“I’m seeing some people,” he said, explicitly avoiding gender. I just flashed a huge grin at him. His mom went farther.

“Well you know, honey - we just want you to be happy. That’s all your dad and I have ever wanted - we’d love to meet whoever you are dating.”

I threw my arm around her, pulling her close to my tight body. It was an overtly loving and mildly sexual gesture.

“Yeah, kid - we know how it is. Hell, your mom and I met in college. We got pregnant with you our sophomore year. That may not be a problem for you, of course -”

“Jay!” she exclaimed, prodding me.

“We just want you to have fun, son, and be careful,” I said squeezing his mom’s ass, and showing a little hard, thinking of our uninhibited college sexual adventures.

“Honey!”

But, it was on. I was gonna get back up in there. She’d been on fire lately. It turns out that what they say about women in their sexual prime is correct - and I’d been having the time of my life. I wasn’t gonna let this opportunity pass - or any opportunity, given how horny she’d become over the last few years.

She escaped my grip, heading out of the kitchen and up to our bedroom, but casting a glance back that even the kid caught. I groped myself, whispering to him, ”Looks like your old man is gonna get lucky.”

His eyes were wide as saucers, focused on my now prominent bulge. There was no pretending in him now - he was all eyes on my crotch. I paused to see if he would look away, but he didn’t - wouldn’t. I gave my meat one last squeeze, accentuating the package, then winked at him as his eyes flashed up, looking into mine.

That afternoon, while I laid it to his mom, I decided it was time to give the kid his dream.

After Freshman year we allowed him to move off campus with a roommate, who, in my mind, was obviously gay. I mean - they weren’t lovers. I figured that out when we helped move them out of the dorm. He was just another ‘good girlfriend’ but this one, finally, was an actual peer . . . by which I mean he was an actual queer. His name was Jason or Raven or Melvin or something - I couldn’t remember. All I knew is that he was away on some kind of obligation, which I don’t think was a coincidence, since I’d arranged my visit over a month in advance. It meant that I could stay in the apartment with my son - which I think my son wanted just as much as I did.

We’d had a good afternoon down at the new campus gym - a really incredible facility, but the locker rooms were still under construction, so we headed back to his place for our shower. The boys had done well with the pad on a budget. It wasn’t outrageously queer, but it was obviously gay - in that, ‘oh yeah, these guys are definitely gay’ kind of aesthetic.

I showered first, intentionally not getting dressed. There were some events scheduled for the evening, but I had other plans - I’d even spent most of the prior week just eating pussy, so I could build a nice load. I figured it was the least I could do, given how much he wanted what I had to give, and how long he had wanted it.

(And, it worked wonders with the wife. “Oh honey . . . you’re such a generous lover. Are you sure you don’t need to . . . you know . . . ” “Naw, I’m fine hon - I get off on getting you off. Let’s cuddle.” That shit works like a charm - it's like banking pussy-points, and I was absolutely gonna cash in for future rewards.)

He stumbled out of the shower, not expecting to see me sitting there. He immediately covered his slim hips with the towel, surprised by my presence.

“Oh, hey dad,” he choked out, stopping in his tracks.

“Ryan,” I said, nodding, but using my Dad Voice.

“What’s up?” he asked, worried now.

“We need to talk,” I said.

He was uncomfortable.

“Um - let me get dressed -”

“Naw - not necessary. We need to talk now.”

That absolutely stopped him. I could see panic in his eyes. And, I knew what it was about. It was about popping wood - about being laid bare in front of me.

“Son,” I said, standing, flipping the damp towel over my shoulder, revealing myself completely. “Why haven’t you come out of the closet to me and your mom? We know, Ry. Why won’t you tell us?”

He just stood there, turning red.

The answer was plain to me - I wanted to help him, but more than that, I wanted him to admit what he wanted. It was his eyes that told his truth - his eyes that raked my tight, hairy frame, my slowly thickening cock, my meaty, heavy balls.

“Um - I . . . “ he said, barely a whisper.

I stepped closer, blocking any exit, letting the edge of my heat invade his space. He was tenting under the towel now - beginning to - and losing his chance to impress his father with his brave truth.

“It’s okay, Ry,” I said. “Just talk to me. I’m your dad. I love you.”

“You,” he said, more quickly than even I expected. But, I guess he was ready in his own way, too - waiting for his own moment, a moment with an open door - which I had just provided.

“It’s you, dad,” he said, honestly, looking up for the first time, straight into my eyes. “It’s because of you.”

He pulled away his towel then, unashamed, and his younger cock sprang up and bounced off his tight abs - perfectly formed, nicely trimmed, tight balls clutching above his cleft for dear life, full of vitality, ready to show his daddy what they could do.

He was rigid and flexing, standing proud - no longer sheepish in his desires. My cock followed suit, just a little slower. I had him in size and girth, but he was nothing to sneeze at. I also had that extra heft - that fleshy heavy quality you get when you work your muscle for years and years, drilling ass and pussy, making babies, giving life. It was Dad Cock vs. son cock - and it was very, very hot.

“I’m so into you, dad,” he said, openly, almost wantonly. “It’s like - if I ever told the truth, I would have to tell the whole truth - so I thought I better just keep quiet.”

I put my hand on his shoulder, smiling at him, loving him so much in that moment.

“Well, the truth is out now, isn’t it?” I asked.

“How long have you known?” he asked.

“A long time.”

“But - why . . . I mean . . . “

“I wouldn’t have - ever. Not while you were younger. I needed you to grow up, kid. Come on - that shit that you’ve been running in your head - that shit only happens in porn stories.”

“But -”

“And, I’m your dad, Ryan. It’s my call, son. It’s not your call. And that really is all there is to say about it, okay?”

He wanted to be angry - wanted to be hurt or frustrated - but I still had authority and carried it well. He’d always responded to it - had always been such a perfect kid - had always done what he was told and what I was telling him now is that I waited for the right moment, because it was the right thing to do. Eventually, his body relaxed. This wasn’t about challenging me. This was about acceptance.

“Okay,” he said, quietly, eventually smiling his still outrageously cute smile.

“Besides, we’re here now,” I said, looking down, and he followed my gaze. I was fully erect and dripping - ready for the moment I’d been thinking about for years - since he was a very young boy, looking at me with very young eyes, nurturing his very young obsession. He gasped audibly, and his own cock flexed.

I slowly applied pressure to his shoulder and surprisingly he resisted, being more of a man than I expected in this moment, given how obviously excited he was to finally get what he had wanted his entire life.

“Dad - “ he started - “shouldn’t we -”

I was way ahead of him.

“We’ll talk later. Now’s not the time to talk, son,” I said, pushing him down harder, knowing I would overcome his resistance, and proving myself right as he lowered gracefully to his knees. He reached up and grabbed my father-cock, the cock that had made him.

“Yeah, Ryan - just like that,” I whispered, as he lowered his mouth onto my glans.

The other benefit of waiting, I had calculated, is that it would give him time to build his skills. This assumption proved remarkably accurate. After wetting me nicely, he slowly descended to the base, with virtually no effort.

“Fuck, son,” I groaned, grabbing his head, firmly.

It was obvious he was as prepared for this as I was - he sucked my cock with an intensity that I had never experienced - neither out of control nor tentative. It was a focused, relentless, unforgiving dick-attack, intent on proving his worth to my shaft, signaling his willingness to take my seed.

His mother was a great lay - enthusiastic and freaky - but she didn’t suck cock like this. And anyway, with two additional and eager holes, she didn’t need to suck cock like this. For a brief instant I wondered if I had wasted time, given up too many years of this incredible sensation by waiting as long as I did.

My son’s groaning moan seemed to prove that point, but I gotta say - despite the immediate incredible sensation, most of the pleasure I experienced was about the culmination of our coupling . . . not the coupling itself. Isn’t there a line from some play about that? Maybe I heard it during one of those incredibly boring high school productions. “We’ve had this date from the beginning . . . “ or something . I remember because it hit me then and it flashed through my mind now, as my cock drove deeper in my son’s throat than I thought was biologically possible.

The kid - by now - was nearly going wild, even as he retained his astonishing focus. It was (and probably will be) the best blow job I ever got. He clutched my heavy balls just right, willingly played my cleft with his wet fingers, slobbered on my rod, covering it with gleaming slick mucous and my own spew. He deep-throated me with ease, breathing in perfect precision, begging for my cum with his every action. Looking down at him - at his focus, at his lust, at his love - I was overwhelmed with erotic passion. I began to drive into him, and he welcomed it, arching his back in deference to my strength, pushing his ass up in the air, grabbing my thighs with this worked-out, muscled arms.

“Awww Ry,” I groaned, feeling the build. “Fuck this is good, son,” I said, and he just nodded, unable to voice his matching pleasure, but showing me his ecstasy with every fiber of his being.

“Gonna cum, Ryan,” I growled, warning him, but not needing to - learning in that moment that I would never need to - ever. He just nodded urgently, clearly welcoming this moment we had both imagined.

“Then I’m gonna fuck you, baby - like you been dreaming of all these years. Gonna get this load out of the way,” I said, now sawing into this throat with abandon. “And then I’m gonna make love to your ass all night long, son.”

His moan was a sound that I’d never heard - it had a depth that vibrated the floor, but was mixed with a high-pitched whine that seemed to threaten the windows - they actually rattled. The kid was so eager and so ready - no matter my earlier trepidation, I understood in that instant that I had waited for precisely the right time. He was a man now - he knew what he wanted - and he was giving it to me, with depth and adulthood and abandon, and just a hint of the depravity that ran through me and his mom.

I erupted in his throat, lunging into him in a way I had never been able to do during a blow job, loving very single moment of the sensation, but loving mostly his pure joy at being able to provide me this astonishing release. The kid was either a whore or a pro - or perhaps his desire for me triggered a wanton ability that I’d never encountered in my life.

I pumped his guts full of my boys and he took them all, swallowing and wallowing in his lust. His frame had popped with a sheen of sweat, and as I looked down at him, taking what I had to give and willing me to give more, I realized I could have my way with him in a way I couldn’t with his mother. He was tough kid. He was a stud. And every signal he was giving me - his still youthful, still horny, still vital father - screamed fuck me, breed me, use me.

Enjoy me

It wasn’t disgusting or needy, like some of the dudes I did in college - dudes that would degrade themselves for a snort of your sweaty crotch, which, admittedly, had it’s own attraction. It was all man, all need, all lust - and it was driving me wild, both with paternal pride and paternal passion. It was indescribable to watch my own progeny express himself in this blatant, unforgiving and overwhelming way.

My cock stayed rigid after it had released its first messengers, and while Ryan slowed, he didn’t retreat from his goal of providing maximal pleasure. I was so proud of him - so full of love. I had expected tears from him in this moment, or sometime during the night - but I didn’t anticipate my own.

I reached down, grabbing his sinewy, muscled arms, and dragged him up, looking at his red, wet, face - lips puffed, eyes glazed, mind clear. He flicked his tongue at my tears, intaking vital breath, and I kissed him, passionately, with the full force of my fatherhood. He crawled up my slightly larger body, wrapping his firm legs around my hips, allowing my wet sluicing cock to ride his dark valley, and I carried him to his bed, kissing him like I suppose I had always wanted to - from the moment I realized his pure passion for me, his dad.

No words were spoken as I entered him deliberately, but with careful, forceful intention. He clawed at my back, kissed my wet checks with his exploring lips, pushed into my hips with eager intensity. I found my stride immediately, as if we had been doing this for years - knowing that we would be doing this for years to come.

“I love you, Ryan,” I moaned, releasing my second load into him seamlessly, pouring him full of my ardor and my DNA. “I love you so much, son,” I repeated, opening him up, maintaining my pace, signaling to him that our love-making was just getting started. The wetness that I’d released eased my entry, and his pouting opening blossomed with his exertions. He pushed out, giving me full and complete access to his center. It was tight - so incredibly tight - but available, too, like his mother.

“I love you too, Daddy,” he whispered, using the honorific that had slipped away when his attraction to me had become overwhelming. “I love you so much.”

((()))

We’ve never stopped making love, even if our coupling is made difficult with distance and family. He has a husband now, but his husband knows and joins me when I visit, exploring my open son with our eager, older cocks. They have hired a surrogate, and that youth will carry our family name. They even asked for my sperm to seed the young college girl and I happily donated.

You’re not supposed to mix sperm when you do that, but we all agreed to break the rules. Each of us has donated a full supply. We figure - let the best man win, right?

I think my wife knows about me and Ryan. We’ve skirted around the issue - discussed Ryan’s obvious attraction to older men - the striking resemblance between his husband and me - his inadvertent slips, during the holidays, when he calls one, or both of us, ‘daddy’. But, if she’s bothered, she doesn’t let on. She’s even spoken lewdly of our son’s fetish for older men during our love-making, implying a knowledge of our coupling that I find overwhelmingly erotic.

This morning, after our lovemaking, as she pushed her ass back onto my semi-hard, cock, she said, “Honey - have you noticed how Sarah looks at you these days?”

Sarah is our youngest daughter.

“It reminds me of Ryan, they way he used to look at you.”

My cock immediately hardened.

“Have you,” she groaned, responding to my response. “Have you noticed?”

“Yes,” I said simply, hardening completely - letting her know that my hardening was connected to the question.

“Do you think that’s okay?” she asked, pushing back.

“I do - I think it’s natural,” I said, entering her ass, pushing deep.

“Ohhhhhh,” my wife sighed, letting her passion mix with unmistakable anguish. “Ohhhhhhh.”

As I pumped my now vital staff into her, preparing to release a second load, I crossed the line.

“Maybe we should talk to her about it,” I whispered to my wife.

“Ohhhhh,” she moaned. “Maybe . . . . , maybeeee we should . . . “

END

Author's Note: This popped up in my feed - had forgotten it. But is one of my favorites. I love the picture, too. Cocky fucker ... the story wrote itself when I saw that dad sitting there, waiting for his son to come out of the shower and into his own....

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cock-loverr · 5 days

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STORY TIME: Re-Run

BROKEBACK II

I didn’t care that he had a little daughter. I didn’t care that he had another one on the way. I didn’t care if he sometimes treated his dogs better than he treated me. Hell, I didn’t care if he had a wife. I liked his wife. She was nicer than most of my buddy’s old ladies. You could tell she doted on him. And, he was good to her, too. Solid, they were. Real solid.

I didn’t care about any of that, because every Friday night we’d head down to the local tavern after work, have a few beers, shoot the shit, maybe play a game of pool or two. And no matter what, eventually he’d wink at me, and say, “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

And we would. Me following his pick-up truck to a place out on the edge of the town, just this side of the State Park. And, then he’d fuck me - always in the back of his truck. Sometimes it was quick and dirty. Sometimes we didn’t get our clothes off, we were so hot for each other. Sometimes, when I was real lucky, he’d go at it again, really driving into me, all that muscle bearing down, riding it like there was no tomorrow.

Fuck, it was hot.

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cock-loverr · 5 days

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STORY TIME: Brothers

NAW

I'm kind of an asshole.

I mean - not really -

Okay - I am.

Mostly I'm just set in my ways, except that's what happens to old dudes and I'm pretty fucking young. But I got set in my ways early on and I'm like, fuck it - why change?

Like politics. I mean ...

Naw - nevermind.

I don't talk politics anymore. I don't even vote. Fuck 'em is what I say. Fuck em all.

And like - ladies ... See, I think a woman should be ...

Naw - nevermind.

When I talk about what women should be, it usually gets me in trouble.

And this is what I mean. Shit like my opinions get me in trouble and so mostly I just stay quiet - except when I'm hanging with my boys - and my bro.

Oh yeah - that's what I mean. About bein' set in my ways real early. See, my twin bro - once we got outta high school, he was like, "Dude, I'm gay."

And I'm like - "Naw - bullshit. You ain't."

And he was like - "Dude - not 'naw' - yeah. I'm gay."

And then we had this huge argument, see, where I'm telling him there's no such thing as homos cuz God said we got to have kids - cuz that's God's plan and also that's what's natural - and he's like, 'Fuck God, bro, I'm a homo" and I'm like, "Fuck you, bro - you don't say shit like that -"

And then we got into this big fight.

We'd been drinking. You know - out with our crew.

And I said some shit - don't even remember what - and our boys had to pull us apart.

We didn't speak for like six months after that.

And then I got tired of being mad at him and so I texted him about the double date we had and the fact that Sally Crenshaw was all over him in the front seat while I did Brandi Whatshername in the back and he was like, "Dude - I didn't even cum - I just did that cuz I thought I had to. How many double dates did we do after that?"

And I didn't respond cuz ... well, like, the answer was none, so that got me thinking. And I'm like - well shit.

Shit!

And so I did some reading, which mostly pissed me off cuz once I typed GAY HOMOS into my phone all this shit starts popping up, like dudes in underwear selling .... fucking, I don't know what the fuck they were selling ... probably underwear - it was pretty fucking uncomfortable. Dudes everywhere. On my phone. For like - weeks.

But ... you know ... I kinda changed my mind. I still think it's unnatural, ya know? LIke why would you fuck an ass if you could fuck a pussy? And what about the shit up in there, ya know? Fuck - gross.

Anyway, the crew was getting pissed off that we were still not talking to each other and they all blamed me because ... well, because I'm an asshole.

And then I figured - what the fuck do I care, ya know? I mean - it was weird, cuz we were twins, and sometimes I wondered if he'd been perving on my cuz ... dude, like, 'no homo' amiright? But he was my bro and speaking of politics (which, to be clear, we ain't speaking about at all) live and let live, ya know?

Live and let live.

Which kind of gets in the way of God stuff, 'specially if you believe God wants all this shit - wants things to be certain ways - which gets pretty confusing if you also believe 'live and let live' and that makes my head hurt so I just say, "Fuck it!"

"Live and let live."

So we got together with the boys at the bar and started drinking - me on one end of the bar and him on the other, and after about four or five of whatever it was - tequila? - he's sitting next to me and I'm like:

"So - must be nice never having to worry about getting someone pregnant."

"I mean - well ..."

"Cuz that shit rocks, I'm thinking. And gay dudes are freaks - that's what I hear - "

"Yeah, so -"

"So it must be cool having dudes just wanting to suck your dick all the time - that shit seems crazy to me -"

"Bro - it's not like - "

"So, you top, right? You like fucking twinks and stuff?"

And I'm all liquored up and shit, pretty fucking proud of myself cuz I 'done my own research' and learned shit - words like 'twink' and 'top' and 'bottom'. (Fuck, bottoms seem just weird to me - what is it, are they like a lady or something?)

Anyway - I'm pretty fucked up by now - so I ask again -

"You a top, bro? Huh?"

And he looks at me long and hard - his face is all red, but that's what happens when he's been drinking - I mean also when he's pissed off but this musta been the liquor - and then he just breaks into this big ass smile and laughs and says:

"Yeah, bruh - I'm a top. Fuck yeah I am."

And then the tension breaks and the boys crowd in and it's cool, ya know? Real cool.

And we go bar-hopping that night, on the endless pussy-hunt, and I strike out - again, dammit - cuz ya know, I'm an asshole, like I said. Everyone else struck out, too - 'cept no one seemed upset about it but me - probly cuz they kept peeling off and heading to the parking lot with my bro ... to smoke dope.

And by the way, fuck that shit - dope, I mean - it gets me all twisted up - crazy shit starts goin on in my head when I'm high, ya know? So I stick to liquor. Plus it's illegal in our state so fuck that. I don't do shit that's illegal - but that seems stupid cuz ... I mean, on the one hand, law and order, ya know? Me and my buddies got into lots of arguments about that shit - law and order -

LAW AND ORDER MOTHERFUCKERS!

But on the other hand, live and let live ... I mean - fuck.

Like I said - shit like 'issues' and 'politics' make my head hurt. It's hard to figure out two things that are opposites at the same time - two things that you believe, you know? Like bein' homo is wrong and also okay - and weed is cool except it ain't, cuz it's illegal.

WTF?

See - this is why I'm an asshole, I think. Cuz there's a lot of shit that just don't make sense and that shit makes me crazy sometime.

And since I'm also horny all the time - horny and crazy - well, fuck, that's like the total recipe for "ASSHOLE!"

Ha!

Anyway - that was a year ago, and it's all cool with my bro and the crew - 'cept recently.

See - what happened was my girlfriend kicked me out. Wanna know why?

Cuz I'm an asshole! Get with the program.

And so I was crashing at my bro's place and then the pandemic hit and we're stuck with each other and I thought that was gonna be all cool and it was until it wasn't.

We both got a lot of energy and going on walks doesn't really cut it, see, 'cuz they also shut the gyms down. (Fucking democrats. 'Cept it was the republicans in our state that shut down the gyms, but everyone knows it's the democrats fault. at least that's what they say on Fox News, which is fair and balanced.)

Then he gets all pissed off at me cuz I'm watching Fox News all the time and we don't agree on that shit - at all - and next thing he does is he shuts off the cable. That pisses me the fuck off but I'm on unemployment and getting those government hand-outs, but that barely covers my food, cuz I got a big appetite and fuck.

No Fox News.

Little fucker.

'Cept he's not that little. That was always our joke, though. See, we're twins, but I was born first and momma says I got the hell out of her and also took everything with me - height, size, muscle. She says, "Your little brother - he didn't want to leave. He stayed up in my for nearly a day after you came out - kicking and screaming along the way. I think he liked the peace and quiet."

That's what she said.

Anyway, the real problem was we were horny, see. Like - all the time. And so there was tension - and it seemed like there was always tension - and did I also mention we were stir crazy?

So one Friday, after bro is done with his 'late shift' (fucker works remotely and makes bank - I don't even know what 'remote work' is goddammit. How do you do work and be remote at the same time? Makes no fucking sense.), bro comes into the living room where I'm watching some Netflix shit and he's like, "Here's the deal, dude - you're getting high with me."

"I don't do that shit."

"Fuck yeah you do -" he says, like he's the boss of me. And there he is, standin' with no shirt on - like he just commin' from a workout or something - hell maybe he is - but it's also summer by now and it's hot as fuck cuz he's a tight-ass with money so the air conditioning is off so .......

Where was I?

Oh yeah - so my bro is nearly naked, and I'm like - WTF? - and he's telling me we're getting high and I'm tellin' him no - and then he hands me this tin of candy - like gummies - and he's got one in his hand and he just shoves it in my mouth.

"You're getting high, Luke. You are way too uptight and way too wound up and you need to dial it down and this will help - here, let's have some beers, too."

Then he heads to the kitchen to get some beers and I'm chewin' the candy, which is good, so I figure, what the fuck, and I eat another.

Live and let live, right?

Cuz I have been uptight - shit ain't goin the way I want it to go with my life - I'm kinda stuck, see, I got dumped by my bitch and unemployment sucks and everything fucking sucks.

Plus I'm fucking horny, ya know? All the time.

Then he's back and he snatches the remote from me and says, "Turned the cable back on - but without Fox News, asshole - let's watch the game."

And I'm like - hell yeah, bro!

So we kick it and he starts smoking this joint and pretty soon my own buzz is kicking in and then he passes me the joint so I take some and we swap, back and forth, and then he's got this look in his eyes during the half and he's like, "I am ... so ... fucking horny, bro. So fucking horny."

"Fuck, dude," I say, "So the fuck am I."

And then I'm grabbing at my crotch cuz ... like I said, I'm high. Like, really high - and suddenly everything seems so fucking obvious, ya know, even though it's kind of scary, too. But I go there - go with the flow. I say: "Dude - why the fuck you don't call one of those twinks of yours - fuck, you could get off just like that." And I snap my fingers, but not too well, cuz I'm fucked up.

And he's like, "Naw, bro -"

And I'm like, "Seriously, dude. Seriously. Like - fuck - at this point I'd fuck a twink - fuck, at this point I'd fuck anything."

And this gets him - like totally - and his eyebrows raise, and he says, "Seriously, bro? You'd fuck a dude."

"Not a dude, bro - a twink. I said twink."

And for some reason that makes me laugh, hard, and I start laughing, and then that turns into giggles and he giggles too and suddenly we just giggling like teenagers.

It was fun.

Nice, I mean.

But then he says: "That's not what you said, bro. You said you'd fuck anything."

So then has asks again. "So ... dude - bein' serious - would you really fuck a dude?"

And I'm like, "Right now, I'd fuck a squirrel."

Which I happen to think is the funniest thing I ever said - ever - and I start laughing again, and he does, too. Like a lot.

A lot.

But then he quiets down looking at me with those eyes of his - he got eyes that rape into me, sometimes, or show shit - like no other man I know they show stuff -

"Would you fuck me, Luke?"

And I'm like - "What?"

"Would you fuck me?"

"Dude - you're a top - fuck off -"

"Naw," he says. Just that. "Naw."

"Yeah you are - you said you are -"

"Naw. I ain't."

"You said - "

"Naw, Lucas. You said - you said that. Not me. You said that -"

And then there was this silence. Like this long silence. Cuz truth does that sometimes. It shuts shit up.

"You said that, Luke, so you could - you know - wrap your head around the fact I'm gay - so I let you say it - but I ain't, bro. I ain't a top. I'm a bottom. Like .... totally."

And that sinks in. Totally.

And I'm tryin' to get mad about it - be upset about it - but remember what is said about everything all making sense? And I look down and I'm still grabbing at my crotch - haven't stopped that - except now it's not grabbin' - it's pawin' - and I'm hard, like really hard - and it's sticking up and to the side, real bad, and I'm just holding it, gripping it, and he's looking at it -

And then he raises his legs up, holds him with his hands, kind of like a lady does - 'cept he is all dude - and the look he gives me is this look I can't describe - like he's the horniest motherfucker on the planet.

"You the top here, Luke. Not me -"

"Naw," I whisper, but it catches in my throat.'

"Yeah -"

"Naw, Mattie," I says, but it's not convincing. And I'm looking at him now, real hard, and I notice he hardly got anything down there - unlike me - and I says it - it just come out:

"Damn, bruh," I said - "I really did get all the ... got everything - got it all .... before I -"

"Yeah," he nods, really horned out now, I could tell. Cuz we're talking real shit now and I'm this close to pulling out my crank. "Ma was right. You split - and you took the mass and the muscle and ... the meat."

And the words drool out of his lips like he's the hungriest dude in the world.

"Left behind the brains," I say.

He don't say anything to that - but it's true. We both know it's true.

"You took the cock, bro," he says, "So all I got left to give is this." And then he yanks down his underwear and lifts up his legs even farther. And I'm getting a clue this is gonna happen.

"Show me, Luke," he groans. "Show it to me - been wantin' to see it like this for like - ever, bro. Show me, Lucas."

And that seems like a logical enough request. And like I said - it's all falling into place. Not sure why I got so fucking wound out about this shit now that he's there and I'm here and then my sweatpants are hooked under my balls and my cock is out - swinging back and forth - dripping, too.

"Fuck - oh fuck," he says. Then his finger is in his hole and I notice it just slides in, and I can see it's all greasy and I figure that this is a plan, maybe a plan he's had - maybe...

And his cock is just hard as a rock but not that big, really - his balls ain't even that big - and mine feel just huge, ya know - that feelin' ya get when you are hard and horned and ain't cummed in what feels like a year, even if it was just yesterday that you shot? You know that feeling.

And then it all falls into place, and my sweats are down by my ankles and I'm gettin' up -

"Fuck yeah, bro," he groans, closing his eyes cuz this is so real. "Please, bro. I need it so bad - you don't know how much I need it."

And I'm standing over him, cock hard as steel, and I see it, ya know? Yin and yang. Up and down. Top and bottom.

Him and me.

Like I'm high as a kite and horny as a dog and I got a beer buzz, too, but it's like ... I don't know ... like I'm some Einstein dude or some math whiz or some inventor or something - because the whole world - my whole life - our whole relationship - the wholefuckinguniverse falls into place as I lower myself to my knees, balls hanging, cock pulsing, heart pounding, and push up against that hole of his that feels like the keyhole to the door that opens and answers all the questions I always had banging around my head.

"Please, Luke," he whispers - so quiet it feels like it comes from the walls, not him - "Please fuck me, bro."

And I do - I push in. I just push into him - his eyes still closed, though, so I say, "Look at me, Mattie. Look at me, kid, while I do you -"

And his eyes flutter open - green they are and brown and grey - and he looks at me and I look into his soul as I push into his hot tightness and find my way home.

It's so good.

It is so good.

And then I do something I never thought I would do - ever - ever - for as long as I lived - as I'm pushing into his center - hot and tight and ready to take all of my bigness, I lean over and kiss him - kiss him like I love him - cuz I do love him. He's my brother. But now he's something more. He's the other half of me. He's my twin.

He's my lover.

Never - ever - thought I'd use that word ever, but here I am and so I kiss him and our tongues touch and our sighs meld and his arms pull me in and his legs wrap around my own and I push all the way in as his body arches and reacts to how deep I'm going and how wide I'm stretching and he just whines - not like a girl, like a man.

Like a bottom.

Cuz he is - a bottom.

And I'm a fucking top.

His top.

"So big," he says.

"So tight," I says.

Then I push in - cuz I figure he knows what he's doing, and he throws his head back, growling like the dude that he is - ain't no twink, not my bro - and then I nuzzling on his Adam's Apple and beginning to get to it, cuz I ain't fucked anything in nearly a year, countin' all the months my frigid ex-girlfriend said 'no', and this is the best fuck I ever had - best my cock has ever felt.

"Fuck," I say, into his shoulder.

"Yeah," he says, grabbing on to me, holding me, pulling my head in close, thrusting his ass up in to me. "Do it, bro."

And I do - I start doing 'it' - which means I start fucking him, my own brother, my twin - the dude I left behind in the womb, but never shoulda, it turns out - and he just says: "Yesssssssssssss....."

"Fuck. Oh fuck."

"Uh huh -"

"So good -"

"Let it go -"

"Gonna cum -"

"I know -"

"Fuck - sorry -"

"Don't be," he growls, deep, into my ear. "Don't you ever be sorry 'bout cumming in me, Lucas."

And that pushes me over the edge - helps me to let go - my balls push out this full slug of sperm - like, true baby-making seed, just gushing into my brother's guts because my cock, see ... my cock finally figured out what it was supposed to be doin' ... which was fucking ass. His ass.

"Oh Jesus, Mattie," I cry, driving into him.

And he just takes it, nodding, pounding my back - pulling his legs back as far as they will go.

"Fuck yeah, Luke," he groans. "Do it do it do it .... fuckingdoit."

And I thrust - and cum. Thrust - and cum - thrust again, hard and deep, and he flexes, crying out, but it's a good cry - a complete cry - and damn if I don't feel his hole just clenchin' on me then - like a wrench - a feeling I never got with pussy - just tight on my cock, gripping it and then I realize his cock is spurting between us, shooting off without him even yanking it - which I didn't know was even possible - but it feels so good - and I'm so fucking turned on knowing that I'm the one making this happen - making my little bro feel so good - that I thrust in him again like that, real hard, driving up, hitting something inside of him that pulls his trigger - and he cries out again, clenches my cock again, spurts again, and by now my cock is just draining and blasting and shooting - and we hit our rhythm, me thrusting, hard and deep, shooting up in him and him clenching down, gettin' his own nut, crying out, sobbing nearly, and us just going at it like we been doing this ... forever.

And then I gets this sick thought - I'm wondering if we HAVE been doing this forever - since when we was inside my moms - and I wonder if I got the fuck outta there cuz I was scared about it - scared it felt so good - and too stupid and stubborn to figure out this was ... this was .... this was .... just the way it was supposed to be.

I wondered if I was doing this when I was hardly the size of a fist, and I'm thinking that may be the case, cuz this is the best sex I ever had and mostly, it just felt like cumming home.

And then it was over and he was holding me and gasping for breath, and I was holding him back, pushing in and out a little - loving how warm and wet it felt inside of him - loving being held by him, loving his smell and his taste and then my lips crawl up his scruffy neck and on to his chin and we're kissing again, real deep - full on homo, ya know? But it's the best feeling in the whole world and I swear to God tears in his eyes and I swear to God I don't ever remember feeling this good and this happy.

Ever

And then I pull back, smiling at him, feeling like a weight has been lifted off my back.

"Hey," I say.

"Hey," he says.

"Wow," I say.

"Yeah - wow," he says, nodding, blinking, smiling - clenching my cock with his ass, which is still nearly hard.

"Damn, Luke," he says, eyes all big. "You're good at this."

"Fuck yeah I am," I growl, and throw some muscle - what muscle I can, given the position. And he laughs a little.

Then he says -

"Ya wanna go again?"

And I says -

"Naw."

And he gets all worried and says -

"Why not?"

And I say -

"Cuz .... I don't wanna go again. I wanna go all night."

And then I pull back, bringing him with me, and thrust up with my thighs, and he wraps his legs around waist, and I walk him down to his bedroom (which is nicer - and neater - and better) and I take him to bed and that's what I do -

Him.

All night.

Naw -

I ain't straight.

And -

Naw -

He ain't a top.

I am.

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