JustAFrecklyWriter

Cucked By My Dad Chapter 04 Dad seduces the pool boy! They say the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. I’ve always thought of myself as reasonably well-adjusted–a bit slutty, perhaps, but well-adjusted nonetheless–and yet I feel like I’ve been running in circles doing the same damn thing. I meet a guy, fall in love (lust), and then am somehow shocked when my dad manages to fuck him before I get a chance to. At a certain point, you just have to wonder if maybe the problem is you. The easy thing to do would be to throw in the towel, accept my lifelong virginity, and become a celibate gay nun or something. But because I’m an eternal optimist (and I have a few issues with the Catholic church), I still hold out hope that one of these days, I will get to enjoy the sweet, luscious feeling of a dick in my ass. My hopes of breaking the cycle rose for the first time when my parents informed me that we would not, in fact, be taking our usual summer vacation this year. Instead of spending a week in some hot, sandy beach house in the Outer Banks like we usually do, they’d booked us a week at an all-inclusive resort in Cancun. I personally would have preferred to go on a cruise (I’m a big fan of the show LOST and have always fantasized about capsizing at sea) and I let my protestations be known. Despite my grumbling, the three of us were packed and on a flight to Mexico by the end of the week. I packed only thong swimsuits just to spite my parents, but truth be told I was actually kind of excited to get out of the house and lounge by the pool. A resort in Cancun didn’t sound too bad–and unlike the beach house, there would actually be other people there I could hang out with. Maybe kids my age, or even an older guy with hyperspermia and a penchant for pale twinks. The resort was even bigger than I imagined. Ridged, pyramid-like buildings sat along a thin strip of land surrounded by pale white sand and ice-blue water on both sides. The beach was dotted with cozy beach chairs underneath enormous beige umbrellas, while the pool sat invitingly only a couple of yards away. It was the most luxurious place I’d ever been, a hell of a lot better than that dank-ass cabin. As soon as we entered the lobby, a short, chubby man with a bad dye job and a freshly-pressed linen suit swarmed us, all smiles. “Welcome, welcome!” he said cheerily, his eyes going from me to my mother until they landed on my father, where they remained for the rest of the conversation. “I’m Anthony, pleased to have you here at the Paradisus. Are you the Wyte family?” “I’m Jud,” said my father. He grabbed the man’s hand in a firm handshake, dwarfing it with his giant paw. A shiver ran through Anthony, but he quickly collected himself. “So good to meet you,” he said, all smiles. “When we spoke over the phone I didn’t know… well, nevermind. Please, come right this way. Our concierge will check you in, make sure you have everything you need.” He pulled out a card from his suit pocket and slid it into my father’s palm. “And if you need anything else during your stay, anything at all, please feel free to call or text. That’s my personal cell number right there.” My father winked. “Thank you, Anthony.” The man blushed, bowed slightly, then scurried off. My mom put her hands on her hips and let out a soft sigh of amazement. “What a great place! This personalized service, I’m telling you. You really feel like the only person in the world that matters.” Our room was on the fourteenth floor, which felt like an eternity during the slow, clunky elevator ride. “I thought this place was supposed to be nice?” I said over the loud metallic grinding of the elevator car. “Don’t be a sourpuss.” My dad nudged me in the side. “Wait till you see the room.” It wasn’t exactly the Four Seasons, but we’d booked a modest-sized suite with two bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a small kitchen area. There was also a balcony with a stunning view of the water, which I supposed made up for being on the 14th floor. I threw my bag on my bed and pulled out my skimpiest swimsuit, a cherry-red speedo with the word “Maricón” on the thin strip of fabric just above my crack. Just as I’d slid on my flip flops, there was a knock at the door. “Leo? You decent?” My father poked his head in and eyed me in my swimsuit. “Ah, you’ve already changed. You heading down to the beach?” I grabbed a floppy sun hat from the table and pulled it on. “The pool, actually. You know I hate sand.” “We’ll join you!” He stepped into my room. He was in his bathing suit as well, a short pair of swim trunks with the American flag on them. His hairy belly was slightly hanging over the waistband. I pouted. “I was hoping to get some alone time.” He shut the door behind him and leaned against it, sighing. “Listen, son. Your mother was hoping we might be able to spend this trip together, as a family. Truth be told, I was kinda hoping that too.” He scratched the back of his head, the smell from his hairy armpit wafting toward my face and making me dizzy. I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, that’s what you said about the mission trip. We all know what happened there.” He smiled sadly. “Come on, son. Can’t we put all that behind us and just have a good time? For your mother? Please?” I chewed my lip. “Fine. Just don’t expect me to sing Kumbaya or anything.” The pool was pretty packed when we got there. The sun beat down overhead, making me sweat. I put my towel down on a beach chair and began lathering myself in suntan lotion, wishing there was some hot daddy around to rub it into my skin for me. My own father went straight to the pool and did a cannonball, sending pool water splashing all over the concrete. Mom was hanging around the swim-up bar, flagging down a bartender. Once I was sufficiently lathered, I pulled out my book and pretended to read. With my oversized sunglasses, I could scope out the pool for any potential fuckboys without being too obvious. Although the pool was packed, it was mostly families with little kids splashing around. There were a few hot dads waist-deep in the pool, holding babies with water wings wrapped around their fat little arms. I watched one of the burlier dads for a few minutes, wondering if I could get him away from his family long enough for a little hanky-panky. Was I willing to be a homewrecker? Maybe. Probably. But it all just seemed like so much effort. I only had a week–better to set my sights on lower-hanging fruit. I didn’t want to tan unevenly, so I put the book down and turned over onto my stomach. I had only been laying there for a few seconds when I heard a voice say, “Can I get you something to drink, señor?” I lifted my head to see a tall, swarthy Mexican man smiling down at me. He seemed to be around his mid-20s, with wild black hair, a thin goatee, and small, circular glasses. He had on a tan uniform polo and a pair of bright blue swim trunks. I rested on my elbows, slipping my sunglasses on the top of my head as I pondered. “Hmm… do you have something tropical? Maybe something sweet, but not too sweet?” He flashed me a bright, sexy smile. “Let me guess. A piña colada?” I giggled. “Wow. You’re good.” He put his hand against his chest in a show of modesty. “It’s a gift. I’m Mateo, by the way. I’ll be taking care of you today.” I let my gaze linger on his hand. Long, slender fingers that would probably be just the thing to hit my boy button. I needed him. “I’m Leo. Nice to meet you, Mateo.” “My pleasure. Are you having a good time here?” I shrugged in what I imagined was a sexy, demure way. “It’s been nice. How about you? Do you like working here?” He grinned. “It’s pretty chill. Great benefits, I get to hang out by the pool all day. Talk to interesting people such as yourself.” Interesting? Well that had to be code for fuckable. He was just being coy with all these people around. “Tell me something, Mateo,” I said, subtly flexing my butt cheeks. “How does a guy like you get into working here? I’d think you’d be working as a model. Or a go-go boy, at least.” He bit back a smile. “I’m from a little town not far away. El Viñedo.” “Sounds romantic.” “It’s not.” He smiled sheepishly. “My family is still there. I help out when I can.” “That is so nice of you,” I said, touched. “I’m really close to my family too. My parents are older, practically ancient, really. But I try to make the most of the time we have left.” “That’s really nice of you,” he said, clearly impressed with my selflessness. “Why don’t I go and get your drink for you?” I winked. “Can’t wait.” He turned to leave, but not before shooting a quick glance down at my ass. Bingo. I flipped onto my back, sliding my sunglasses over my eyes as I replayed the moment in my mind. But before I could have a chance to breathe, I felt the sun blotted out by a shadow falling across my chair. “Hey, kiddo.” My dad’s booming voice snapped me out of my reverie. He stood in front of me, water dripping off his thick, hairy body. “Why don’t you join us in the pool?” I picked my book off the ground and waved it at him. “I’m reading.” Dad raised an eyebrow. “You’ve never read a day in your life.” I threw the book down in frustration. “Yeah, well, there’s a first time for everything!” Dad put a wet hand on my shoulder, sending little drops of water trickling down my chest. “Why don’t you come for a swim with me? We can play Marco Polo.” Before I could tell him that I wasn’t five years old and I had no desire to play Marco fucking Polo, Mateo returned with a drink on his tray. “Piña colada for you, señor.” He handed me the cocktail and gave me a smile that melted away my anger. “Gracias, Mateo,” I said sweetly. “Oh, that looks good,” said Dad. “Hey, Mateo, is it? What would you recommend for an old man like me?” Mateo straightened, his professional demeanor kicking back in. “Depends on what you like, señor.” Dad let out a bark of a laugh. “Oh, I like plenty of things. Let’s just say I’m a man of many pleasures.” I rolled my eyes. Mateo blushed. “Something refreshing? Maybe a mojito?” “A mojito, huh? Sounds perfect.” Dad grinned, putting his hand on Mateo’s shoulder. “You seem like you know your stuff, son. What’s your secret?” Mateo shrugged, a little shy under my dad’s attention. “Just a lot of practice, señor.” “Please, call me Jud.” I had had about enough of this circle jerk, so I grabbed my book and said, “All right, Dad. I was in the middle of reading. Why don’t you go find mom and–” “I’ve got time to hang with my son,” my dad interrupted. “And it’s not every day I get to meet a handsome guy like Mateo.” Mateo laughed politely, his eyes flicking back and forth between us. “I’ll grab your drink, señor. Or… Jud.” He laughed, blushing. “Be right back.” As he walked away, I sat upright, fuming. “Can you not?” “Not what?” My dad plopped into the chair next to me, his belly wobbling as the chair sagged underneath his frame. “I’m just being friendly.” I glared at him. “You’re being you.” Dad smiled innocently. “Is that such a bad thing?” I watched Mateo stop to chat with another guest at a nearby table, flashing that sexy smile. “It is when you steal all the attention.” Dad leaned back with a smirk. “Well, maybe you should step up your game, kiddo.” I was seething as Mateo returned with the mojito, handing it off to Dad with the same smile I thought he’d reserved just for me. “Here you go, Jud.” “Thanks, Mateo,” Dad said warmly, raising the glass. “You’re good at what you do.” Mateo gave a small, bashful laugh. After he’d left, Dad took a sip of his drink and winked at me. “Friendly guy, huh?” I wanted to throw my book at him, but instead, I just clutched it angrily against my chest as I snarled, “What are you doing?” “Relaxing by the pool, same as you.” He spread his arms out behind his head and relaxed against the lounger. “Or is this spot reserved for brooding young adults?” I sat up, my skin red from the sun and the anger rising inside me. “You know what I mean. Why do you always do this?” “Do what?” “You know!” My voice rose, drawing a couple of side-eyes from nearby sunbathers. I lowered it to a sharp hiss. “You’re always stealing guys I like.” Dad blinked stupidly. “Stealing guys? Leo, he works here. He’s paid to be nice. You know that, right?” I couldn’t stand this fake innocent thing. I folded my arms. “Don’t fucking gaslight me, Dad. You were flirting with him right in front of me.” “Flirting?” He laughed, shaking his head. “If you think that’s flirting, you haven’t seen anything yet. I was just making conversation, son. You’re reading way too much into this.” I wanted to scream, but I didn’t want to give him the upper hand. “This is my vacation, too. I’m 18 years old, I deserve to be able to enjoy myself with a cute guy. Can’t you just… back off for once?” His smile faded slightly. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Leo, I’m not trying to steal anyone from you. I just want to spend time with you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.” “Sure. Spend time with me by fucking every guy I like. Great bonding, Dad.” “Look, if this is really bothering you, how about a deal?” He held his palms up in surrender. “I’ll give you guys space. No more flirting with Mateo or whatever his name is.” I narrowed my eyes. “You’ll just give up that easily, will you?” “Well, you do have to do something for me,” he said with a shrug. “Spend some time with your mom and me. She’s got a whole list of activities she wants to do while we’re here, and it would be nice if you could be present for them. The rest of the time is yours to do whatever you want, I promise.” I hesitated. I really really did not want to go snorkeling or whatever dumbass activites Mom had planned, but I couldn’t give up an opportunity to finally get my dad out of the way. “Fine,” I said finally. “But you better not even look at him.” Dad smirked, holding out his hand for a shake. “Deal. But don’t forget, we’ve got dinner tonight at 6. I expect you to be there on time.” I smacked his hand away, laying back on the lounger and pulling my book over my face. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” Surprisingly, I seemed to have won the battle, but I couldn’t escape the feeling that Dad would still win the war. Deals with him always had a way of backfiring. Once I finished my piña colada, I scanned the crowd to see if I could spot Mateo. Although there were a few different poolside attendants in matching outfits, he was nowhere to be found. “Excuse me,” I said to the nearest attendant, a young redhead with perky tits and a perkier smile. “Do you know where Mateo is?” “I think he’s working by the beach,” she said cheerily. “Can I get you anything? Another drink?” “I thought he worked at the pool?” Her smile dipped for a moment. “We’re a little short-staffed. Sometimes we fill in for each other during breaks. Would you like a Coca Cola?” “Sure,” I said. The second she walked away, I grabbed my book and headed for the walkway to the beach. The beach was lined with a bunch of identical canopies and beach chairs, most of which were occupied. I walked along the pale white sand, scanning the attendants until I spotted Mateo. He was kneeling down to talk to an older woman who was lounging on one of the canopies and fanning herself. “Don’t you have a portable AC unit or anything?” she snapped. “I’m sorry, ma’am,” he said politely. “There’s not much we can do about the weather on the beach. But if you’d like to go inside–” “I want to be outside, I just want it to be cooler. Why can’t you understand that? Are you simple?” He spotted me and smiled politely. “Of course, ma’am. I’ll see what I can do.” He walked over to me, far enough away for the woman to be out of earshot. “Can I get you anything, señor? A portable AC unit, perhaps?” he added under his breath. “She sounds like a real cunt,” I said dryly. He let out a sigh of frustration. “It’s just par for the course. Another fucking 16-hour shift because some pendejo calls in sick again.” His eyes widened for a moment before he added quickly, “I mean, I aim to please all of our guests.” “Well then, maybe you could bring me another piña colada?” I said, tossing my book on the nearest lounge chair. “The last one was delicious. I sucked up every last drop.” He gave me a tight smile. “I’m glad you liked it. I’ll be right back.” I sat down on the chair, rubbing the sand off my feet. God, I fucking hated the beach. The things we do for love. I pulled my book back out and pretended to read (I swear, I couldn’t even tell you the title of this fucking thing) until he came back a few minutes later, a new piña colada in hand. “Here you go,” he said quickly. He looked flustered like his attention was elsewhere. “Thanks.” I put my hand on his arm. “You must work pretty hard, huh? Running around all day, serving demanding guests like me.” He gave me a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “It’s all part of the job.” “Well, you do it really well.” “Thanks,” he said, turning to leave. I frowned, sipping my drink. This was not going according to plan. I needed to step up my game, like Dad had said. “Actually,” I called out, “could I get some nachos, too? And one of those fruit cups? Oh, and do you have coconut water?” Mateo let out a small sigh of frustration, pulled out a notepad, and scribbled down my order. “Coming right up.” I got the sense that I was irritating him, but how was I supposed to flirt if he was wandering around at the beck and call of these ugly tourists? When he brought the food back, I tried asking him about his favorite spots in Cancun, but before I could get the question out he had turned on his heels and was gone. I watched him flit around the beach, delivering drinks and being berated again by that old cunt on the canopy. What did I have to do to get his attention? Drown myself? Actually, that wasn’t a bad idea. I could see the lifeguard stands lining the beach with about 400 yards in between them. The nearest stand was leagues away, which meant the lifeguards would probably be less likely to notice me if I happened to need rescuing from a dashing hero. I stood, pulled the thong bathing suit out of my butt crack, and stretched dramatically. I took a step toward the water. “Guess I’ll go for a swim,” I said over my shoulder, hoping he was watching. He wasn’t. Undeterred, I waded into the ocean. The water was quite warm, crystal-clear, and a little rougher than I was used to in the Outer Banks. Perfect–it would make my drowning all that more convincing. I glanced back at the beach. Mateo was talking to that old hag again. I would have to make quite a scene if I wanted him to notice me. I swam out a little farther, then let out a cry before flailing my arms wildly. “Help! I’m drowning!” The performance was Oscar-worthy, if I said so myself. It helped that the waves were tossing me left and right, making my splashing that much more convincing. After a few seconds, however, I felt a strange tug around my legs, pulling me backward. For a moment, I thought it was my imagination–perhaps I was too dedicated to my own performance. But the pull grew stronger as the shore retreated farther and farther away. Okay, time to abort the plan. I tried swimming forward, but the current had other plans. My strokes felt weak and useless as the riptide yanked me out to sea. I couldn’t spot Mateo amongst the crowd anymore and panic began to surge through me as I tried to remember what to do. I wasn’t supposed to fight the riptide, right? But then what–just let it sweep me out to sea? Bob around for a couple of days until I got eaten by sharks like that couple in Open Water? Fuck no. I swam parallel to the shore, thrashing my little twink arms as much as I could. God, what I wouldn’t give to have actually lifted weights instead of focusing so much on cardio. Vanity would be the death of me. A whistle blew sharply, cutting through the sound of the crashing waves. Was that someone coming to rescue me? Mateo, was that you? I swam until I felt the pull of the riptide fade. I didn’t have the strength to swim back to shore, so I used what was left to float on my back, hoping that Mateo would get to me in time to pull off a dashing rescue. When I felt strong hands wrap around me, the remaining strength drained out of me. I fell limp, allowing Mateo to swim me back to shore in those muscular, tanned arms of his. I kept my eyes closed, hoping I could at least get a little mouth-to-mouth action out of this. I felt myself being carried out of the water and onto the beach. The hushed, worried voices of the crowd were all around me as Mateo laid me down on the sand, his fingers pressing up against my neck to check my pulse. “Is he breathing?” I heard a woman say. Then I felt it–those lips pressed up against mine. They were warm and rough, and I could feel his scratchy unshaved face against my soft skin. He was blowing air into my mouth, which felt a little uncomfortable, but I was just happy to have our first kiss. I put my hand against the back of his head and returned the kiss, slipping my tongue into his mouth. God, he tasted good. Like sweet, cool mint and raw, sexual energy. A cry of relief rang out from the crowd. “He’s okay! Thank God.” I opened my eyes, a dreamy smile playing out across my face. "Mateo… You saved me." But when my eyes focused, it wasn’t Mateo. It was my dad. He was breathing heavily, a wild mixture of fear and relief in his eyes. “Leo, what the hell were you thinking?” I sputtered, trying to pull away. “I wasn’t–” “You’re lucky I saw you,” he snapped. “You could’ve died!” I saw a small crowd gathered around us. Mateo stood in the background, watching us with concern. It suddenly occurred to me that I had just made out with my own father. Yuck! I pushed him away, angry. “What the fuck, Dad? I didn’t need saving!” He looked at me, bewildered. “What are you talking about? You were drowning!” “Here, take this.” I looked up to see Mateo standing over me, holding out a towel. What a gentleman! “Thank you,” I said weakly. But before I could grab the towel from him, my father had snatched it out of his hands and was wrapping it around my shoulders. “Ugh, I can do it myself, Dad!” “Mateo?” Anthony, the chubby manager, rushed over, a cheery smile concealing his thinly veiled rage. “What’s going on with Mrs. Fulcock? She’s very displeased. Very VOCALLY displeased.” “My son almost drowned,” my father said angrily. “Surely this is more important?” The manager looked at my father, then me, and turned beet red. “O-of course, sir!” “He needs water,” said my dad. Anthony nodded, then hissed at Mateo, “Get. Water. NOW!” I watched Mateo leave, then turned to my father, fuming. “You ruin everything!” I said as I stormed off. I spent the rest of the afternoon in the bath, scrubbing the scratchy sand off my body and trying to get rid of the taste of Dad that still clung to my mouth. How dare he interrupt my staged drowning attempt! And to steal my first kiss with Mateo, that was low. I should have known that he wouldn’t respect the deal and stay out of my way. Looks like I was going to have to play dirty. Dinner was a somber affair. I was livid from this afternoon and my hair still smelled of seawater, which made me gag. Dad was trying to play the peacemaker, which annoyed the shit out of me. The only one who seemed to be having any fun at all was Mom. “Oh, and the spa!” she gushed. “They have the most amazing masseuses. Their hands are like magic, rubbing and hitting and spanking… you’d think they had an octopus in there!” I grabbed her Chardonnay and drained it. “Uh-huh.” “Oh honey,” she said, her voice dripping with tipsiness and concern. She grabbed the bottle of wine and refilled her glass. “I know you must still be shaking from what happened this afternoon. Your father told me all about it. Thank God he was there!” “Maybe next time you’ll stick to the shallow end, Leo.” Dad chuckled, cutting into his steak. “Save your old man the heart attack.” I glared at him. “Maybe next time you’ll let me handle things myself.” Mom sighed. “Can we just have one nice dinner without you two going at it? Please?” I was about to respond when I spotted Mateo. He was standing at a table across the way, leaning down to place a cocktail in front of some twink. The guy was looking up at him with stars in his eyes, his hand brushing Mateo’s as he took the glass from him. I was too far away to hear them, but I saw Mateo laugh at something the little gayboy said. I waited for him to walk away, but he just stood there chatting. What the fuck? He wasn’t that flirty with me! And he practically ignored me the whole time I was drowning. One femboy flashes him bottom eyes and all of a sudden he has all the time in the world. What a pig! “Something wrong?” my mom asked. I grabbed her glass and drained it again. “Nothing.” “Well, you won’t have to worry about drowning on the snorkeling trip tomorrow,” said Mom. “We’ll have life preservers and the water is super shallow. Oh, it’ll be gorgeous, we’ll take a boat to this beautiful coral reef and you can see the little fishies and everything.” “And watch you and Dad get wasted and drown in three feet of water? No thanks,” I said. Dad frowned at me. “I think what you meant to say is that you’d love to go snorkeling. Isn’t that right, son?” I kept my gaze locked on the scene across the room. Mateo laughed again, this time placing a hand on the guy’s shoulder as he straightened up. I sank down in my seat and folded my arms petulantly. “Fine.” Mom picked up the empty bottle of wine and waved it at a passing waiter. “Can we get another? Hello? Oh, shoot. He didn’t hear me.” She got up and walked toward the bar, stumbling slightly in her heels. My dad followed my gaze and smirked. “Ah. Mateo, huh?” I snapped my attention back to my plate. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Dad leaned back, sipping from his beer. “You’ve got to play it cool, son. Can’t let him see you sweat.” My cheeks burned. I stabbed at a piece of my steak. “I’m not sweating. I know exactly what I’m doing.” Dad winked at me. “Sure you do.” I pushed my chair back from the table and stood angrily. “If you could have just stayed out of my way, he’d be balls-deep in me right about now! But no, you had to ruin everything, like you always do.” Dad shot me a stern look. “Leo, please. This is a family dinner. You promised–” “I’m not feeling well,” I said. “I’ll see you in the morning.” I locked myself in my room for the rest of the night, my mind racing with thoughts about how to salvage the week. I needed to find a way to get Mateo before my father got his meddling claws into him. But how? Upon awakening, it occurred to me–I was coming on WAY too strong. Guys like Mateo weren’t like Kevin or Pastor Carl, they were more mature, more cultured. He needed to be wooed, not bulldozed. As much as I hated to admit it, Dad had a point. I needed to play things cool. When I went down to the breakfast hall, I saw Mateo sitting at a small table in the corner. He had a half-eaten croissant in front of him and a book in his hands that he appeared to be actually reading. He was also out of uniform, wearing a t-shirt and floral print shorts. Now, the old Leo would have sat down next to him and made a fool out of himself with clumsy flirtations. But the NEW Leo knew better. I filled my plate from the buffet table and sat a few tables down. I still had that book with me (such a good prop, honestly) and pulled it out and pretended to read. I snuck periodic glances at Mateo, but he seemed seriously engrossed in his book. Hmm. I needed to play hard to get but I still did need him to notice me. I knocked my glass off the table and let it shatter on the ground, spilling orange juice everywhere. I saw Mateo’s head shoot up at the sound. “Oh, darn it!” I said loudly. I got down on my knees and started to pick up some of the bigger shards of glass. “Here, let me.” I looked up to see Mateo kneeling beside me, a warm smile on his face. “You don’t have to do that,” I said demurely. “You’re not working, you should be relaxing.” “It’s fine. I figure you’ve had enough excitement after yesterday. Wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.” I covered my face in mock embarrassment. “Oh gosh. Not only am I a terrible swimmer, but I’m clumsy to boot. How can you bear to be seen with me?” He laughed. “You don’t strike me as the unconfident type.” He handed me a napkin to mop up the juice while sweeping some of the glass into a pile. “I will say, it’s not every day I get rescued twice in 24-hours. First the towel, now this… you must have a knack for being in the right place at the right time.” He chuckled, standing up and brushing his hands off. He leaned in and whispered, “Maybe you have a knack for needing rescuing.” I giggled. We stood there for a moment, smiling at each other. I could tell the moment was about to pass, so I said quickly, “So, what’s a guy like you do on a morning off?” “Nothing much. I was just finishing my book.” He gestured toward the table where his croissant and novel waited. “Then I was thinking of heading to the spa.” “The spa?” I feigned disinterest. “Huh. Must be a nice perk of the job.” He shrugged. “My buddy works there. He hooks me up on the downlow.” “Well, I won’t tell.” I lowered my voice to a whisper and added, “I know how to keep a secret.” He bit back a smile. “Anyway, thanks for your help. I’ll let you get to the spa,” I grabbed my book, leaving my plate of food uneaten on the table. “I was actually thinking of heading there in a bit, funnily enough. But I’ll wait. I don’t want to cramp your style on your off day.” I looked away, but out of the corner of my eye I could see him wrestling whether to say something. Finally he scratched the back of his head and said, “Don’t worry about it. We can walk there together if you want.” My eyes lit up. “Really? You don’t mind?” He smiled. “It’d be nice to have the company.” We didn’t hold hands on the walk to the spa, sadly, but I still considered our flirtation to be progressing nicely. When we arrived, the lobby was bustling, with guests milling around in plush robes and only a single receptionist sitting behind the desk looking frazzled. Mateo stepped up to the desk to check in, only to frown as the receptionist looked at him in despair. “No openings?” I asked when he walked back toward me. “They’re overbooked and understaffed,” he said with a sigh. “My buddy called out so I couldn’t get a massage even if I wanted to.” “That’s a shame,” I said, shaking my head. “I know you were looking forward to a good rubdown.” “I think they’ll be free later in the day if you want to make an appointment–” “No, don’t worry about it,” I said casually. A sudden thought came into my head and I ran with it. “Hey, you know what? Crazy coincidence, I’m actually in school for massage therapy. What if I gave you a massage?” He raised an eyebrow. “I know, I know. Busman’s holiday, am I right? I really just like getting practice wherever I can.” He hesitated, crossing his arms. “We’re really not supposed to fraternize with the guests.” “So you guys are allowed to massage me but I can’t massage you? That seems a bit silly. What is this, North Korea?” He cocked his head. “I mean, where would we even do it?” I shrugged. “Well, my nice, luxurious hotel room of course. It’s comfortable, private…” He frowned. “I don’t know, Leo.” “Oh come on,” I said, flashing what I hoped was a disarming smile. “I swear, I’m a quick learner and I have hands like one of those cats kneading dough. Please, it’s the least I can do after you rescued me this morning.” He smiled. “You’re persistent, I’ll give you that.” “Trust me, you’ll be doing me a favor,” I said with a smile. “I need all the feedback I can get.” He laughed. “Fine. But if you’re terrible, I’m cutting it short.” “Deal!” He seemed nervous on the elevator ride up to my room. I’m sure he was worried about his boss spotting us, but we didn’t run into any hotel staff except for one of the cleaning ladies pushing a cart down the hallway. When we got to my suite, I unlocked the door with my key card and gestured him inside. “Welcome to Spa Leo.” He rolled his eyes, grinning as he stepped into my room. He looked around the place, soaking in the natural decor. “Nice room,” he said. “Your parents must really love you.” “Or they just don’t trust me to stay on my own. Anyway, make yourself comfortable.” “They’re not… gonna be back soon, are they?” he asked, kicking off his sandals and settling on the couch. “Nope,” I said, hoping against hope that that was true. “We’ve got the place to ourselves the whole morning.” He spread his arms out on the couch and looked around. “So, where’s this massage table of yours?” I swallowed. “Uh…” I thought frantically for a moment about what we could use, then suddenly remembered the pull-out cot in the closet. “One sec.” I grabbed the cot from the closet and waved him over. “We’re improvising. Follow me!” We walked into my bedroom, where I set up the cot in the middle of the floor by the bed. “Go ahead and get comfortable.” He pulled off his t-shirt, revealing a toned, sun-kissed torso that made me start to leak in my shorts. “This okay?” “Perfect,” I said, my voice cracking. I grabbed a bottle of lotion from the bathroom (not exactly massage oil, but then again, I wasn’t really a masseuse). He stretched out on the cot, face down, his arms folded under his head. I climbed up beside him, crouching awkwardly on my knees. Should I straddle him? How would a professional do it? Fuck it. I swung my leg to the other side of him so that I was sitting on his back. “Alright, let’s get started,” I said, trying to sound professional. I squirted a bit of lotion on my hands and spread it around before placing them delicately on his back. His skin was warm beneath my fingertips, smooth but firm over the defined muscles of his shoulders. The curve of his back shifted slowly with every breath, the muscles flexing and relaxing under my touch. A little thrill ran through me as my palms pressed into his skin and I began kneading his shoulders. “How long have you been in massage school?” I shifted my body so he couldn’t feel my growing erection and tried to come up with a length of time that sounded realistic but like I wasn’t totally new to this. “Three years.” He let out a low sigh as I worked out the knot in one of his shoulders (at least I think it was a knot–it may have been one of his shoulder blades). “That feels nice.” Emboldened, I slid further down his back, massaging the many muscles I didn’t know the names of but turned me on anyway. To my surprise, I was actually kind of good at this, at least as far as his reaction was concerned. I pressed my thumbs into his skin, rubbing them in slow, deliberate circles. This was my first time actually getting to appreciate a man’s body up close. With Kevin, I barely got a makeout session in, whereas Brock liked to dump a load in my mouth and then skedaddle. Now I had a semi-naked man underneath me, and I was free to squeeze, rub, and tug to my heart’s content. He was still wearing those damn shorts, though they were thin cotton, so I was able to feel his ass underneath me. It was round and muscular, and despite being a complete and utter bottom, I was kind of curious about feeling it. I massaged his lower back above his ass cheeks, where a thin layer of hair sat like a masculine tramp stamp. “Oh, that feels nice,” he moaned, so I leaned into the area with my elbow to get in deeper. My face was only inches from his ass now. I leaned in closer and took a delicate sniff. Fuck. He smelled good. I don’t know if it was his balls or what, but the masculine musk wafting from his junk made me go to full hardness almost instantly. I slid my fingers down his leg, feeling the soft hairs on his skin as I worked the muscles up and down his thigh. “Does that feel good?” I asked softly. He answered me with a moan. Hardly daring to push things further, I worked on his other leg, getting closer and closer to the leg of his shorts as I worked the muscle. Hesitantly, I slipped my fingers an inch or two inside his inseam, kneading his skin in little circles. “I could massage your glutes if you wanted,” I said, trying to sound professional. “Uh, okay,” he said, his voice muffled by the cot. “You can either remove your shorts or keep them on, it’s up to you,” I said nonchalantly. He tilted his head and looked at me quizzically. I smiled. “Trust me, I’ve done this plenty of times. I’m a professional.” He nodded. “Okay.” He reached back and slowly started to slide his shorts down. I watched in awe, trying not to drool on him. I kept expecting to see the waistband of his underwear pop into view, but as he pulled them down, I was surprised to see he was going commando. FUCK. YES. His ass was round and fuzzy, covered in a light down of soft black hair. I had never seen anything so delicious in my life. I almost whimpered as he slid his shorts down past his knees before kicking them off the cot. As he did so, his legs spread just a bit, showing me a peek of his hole and his big, hairy balls. Holy shit. Was this what my father saw every time he pried a guy open and worked his way inside him? If so, I could understand why people topped. Mateo’s ass was beautiful–strong, slightly furry, so inviting that I wondered if perhaps I had been mistaken about being a bottom after all. Okay, let’s not be ridiculous. I may appreciate a man’s hairy ass, but only because I’m human. “Everything okay?” I realized I had been staring silently at his ass for far too long, so I quickly grabbed his cheeks and started kneading them. “Just getting some more lotion.” His ass felt so good in my hands–firm, fuzzy, juicy. As I squeezed his cheeks, rolling my thumbs in a circle, they spread slightly to reveal his hole again. It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, almost hypnotic the way it appeared and disappeared with the motion of my hands. I felt it drawing me in, beckoning to me. Come closer, Leo. Look at me. Smell me. Taste me. I was powerless to it. I leaned in closer, my nose so close it was almost touching it. I breathed in deeply, his scent nearly knocking me flat on my feet. Fuck, I wanted to taste him. What was happening to me? Was I becoming my father? That would be insane. Yet here was his hole, so warm and puckered and…tempting. My mouth opened and my tongue was out before I could stop myself. But just as I was about to reach out and take a lick, I saw something that took my breath away. It was just laying there against the cot, the extra ring of skin stretched tightly around the head. The tip oozed with a little bit of clear liquid, leaving a small dark spot on the cot underneath it. Mateo’s cock was rock hard, pressed tightly against the bed as it poked out from behind his saggy ballsack. That was all the encouragement I needed. I closed my eyes and plunged off the deep end, burying my tongue as deeply in Mateo’s ass as I possibly could. “Jesus FUCKING Christ!” he exclaimed, his head shooting up off the bed. He looked back at me, eyes wide as I munched the fuck out of those cheeks. He tasted even better than he smelled, if that was possible. We locked eyes as I rolled my tongue around the outside of his hole, burrowing deeper and deeper inward. His brow furrowed in a kind of desperate surrender, his eyes rolling back slightly as he pressed his face back into the mat. “Ugh… cómete ese culo…” He pushed his ass backward, lifting it off the mat and sending his balls swinging back against my chin. I grabbed his left ass cheek with one hand and spread it wide, using my other hand to grip his cock and start pumping it. His cock wasn’t the longest I’d ever seen, but it was thick and felt amazing in my hand. I curled my tongue inside him, lapping up his asshole as I stroked his heavy cock. Dangling balls thrust into my chin again and again. Low, needy moans begged for more. Fuck, this was incredible. I got plenty of practice sucking cock with Brock, but ass eating was something else entirely. In a matter of seconds, I’d reduced this hunky, masculine stud into a whimpering mess with nothing but my tongue and a couple of quick strokes. There was power in this, more so than with dick sucking. I pulled my tongue out of Mateo’s asshole and buried my nose into his hole, lapping up the underside of his balls with my tongue. “Joder… don’t stop!” he cried. I jerked his cock even faster, drunk on my newfound power. I knew that the end goal was to get fucked, and I was still planning on turning him over and sitting on his cock, but I couldn’t pull myself away from his ass. It was so yummy, so wet, so fucking delicious that I had to taste it just a little more. Mateo’s legs started to shake as he whimpered, “I’m gonna… I’m gonna…” There was a loud bang as the door burst open and a deep, booming voice called, “Who’s ready for snorkeling!” I pulled my face out of Mateo’s ass and was greeted by the sight of my father standing at the door. His face was stretched in a big, beaming smile which quickly dropped as his eyes landed on Mateo. “Oh, fuck!” Mateo groaned. I felt his cock pulse in my hand, then the first splash of cum shot out of his cock. We all watched in silence as jets of cum streaked out and soaked the cot. It may have been the embarrassment of it all, but it felt like it went on forever, just an endless ocean of cum firing out of Mateo’s cock and covering the cot in a sticky mess of fluids. “Leo? I hope you’ve packed your fins!” The sound of my mother’s voice in the other room snapped us all back to attention. My father and I locked eyes, then he quickly shut the door behind him. “Be out in a minute, hon!” “What the fuck are you doing here?” I hissed, Mateo’s deflating cock still gripped tightly in my hand. “We have to leave for snorkeling in ten minutes. I told you about this yesterday!” Mateo scrambled off the cot and grabbed his shorts off the floor, pulling them on so fast he almost fell over. “I gotta get out of here.” I glared at my father. “You said that wasn’t until noon.” “It’s 11:45!” Fuck. That’s what I get for sleeping in so late. Mateo threw his t-shirt back on, then slid past my father to the door. He opened it to reveal my mother, who was wearing a big floppy sun hat with her nose covered in suntan lotion. “Oh! Hello,” she said, surprised. Mateo’s face turned beet red. “Hi. Uh… just… delivering towels.” He slipped past her and fled our hotel room as fast as he could. She watched him go, then turned back to us and let out a little chuckle. “I am telling you, the level of service here is incredible. Five stars, really!” She eyed the cot, then narrowed her eyes in confusion. “What’s that doing out?” I threw myself back on it, covering the streaks of Mateo’s cum with my body. “Just thought I’d try it out, see if it’s more comfortable than the bed.” She shook her head. “Really, Leo. It's a luxury resort and you think the cot’s more comfortable than the bed? I swear, sometimes I don’t know where your head’s at.” She turned to leave, calling back, “I’ll see you boys downstairs! I’m gonna grab a bottle of wine for the boat ride.” Once she’d left, Dad turned back to me. “Well, I have to admit, I didn’t think you’d do it.” I pulled off my cum-soaked shirt and rifled through my dresser for a tank-top. “If you hadn’t scared him off, maybe I would have sealed the deal.” He smirked. “If he’s that skittish, maybe he’s not the guy for you.” “That’s not your call to make!” He crossed his arms and sighed. “Leo, come on. You promised you’d be present for this trip. Your mother is really looking forward to snorkeling. Will you please check the attitude and be a good sport? For her sake?” I grabbed a bright pink thong swimsuit out of my dresser and thrust it closed. “Fine. But for Mom, not for you.” His face faltered for a moment, a flicker of hurt that quickly disappeared with a huff and a nod. “See you downstairs.” The snorkeling boat was crowded, packed with ugly, fat tourists in brightly colored swimsuits. I watched a hideous child in water wings bounce around on its mother’s lap, giggling as she stared at it lovingly. Mom, of course, was in her element, a glass of wine in her hand as she peppered the captain with questions about the reef where we would be snorkeling. Dad pulled off his shirt and leaned back against the railing of the boat, his eyes closed as he soaked in the sun. I sat slouched in a corner of the boat, sulking. I couldn’t believe I’d come so close to getting fucked, AGAIN, only to have the rug pulled out from underneath me. As I watched Dad standing there, my mind swirling with resentful thoughts. He had everything–he was beefy, muscular, masculine. Even his big belly didn’t make him any less attractive. It’s not as if he ever had to worry about getting laid. He’d probably lost his virginity way before I had. People threw themselves at him all the time. Even that mother with the hideous baby was shooting him looks every few seconds, her unsuspecting husband obliviously rifling through a snorkeling guide on the bench beside her. Dad opened his eyes, saw me staring, and smiled at me. I turned my head, angry that he caught me looking. I didn’t even want to give him the satisfaction of my attention. The boat began to move, the engine roaring as it cut through the waves. I stared at the ocean, the sunlight glinting off the water, wishing I could be anywhere else. The resort began to recede in the background as we pushed off from the dock. I stared sadly at it, wishing I could just have a few hours of uninterrupted time with Mateo. If I could just get him alone without my dad hanging around… An idea began to form in my mind–terrible and impulsive. I couldn’t, could I? I looked back at my dad, whose eyes were closed again. Mom was still talking to the captain, her back turned to me. The rest of the crew was distracted, busy helping tourists with their snorkel gear. No one was paying attention to me. This was my chance. I stood, making my way to the edge of the boat. The water looked inviting, shimmering under the midday sun. I looked back at the dock, which was only a few yards away but growing further with every second. It was now or never. “Leo, what are you doing?” Dad’s voice rang out behind me, but I didn’t look back. I jumped. The water was fucking cold, but I surfaced quickly, gasping for air. The boat chugged away, the sound of the engine growing fainter as it moved further out to sea. “LEO!” Dad’s voice was furious now, carried by the wind. I looked back to see him leaning over the railing, staring at me. Then I began to swim, my heart racing in my chest. Could I actually pull this off? He wouldn’t come after me, right? The boat was too far away now, he’d never make it if he tried to swim. I pushed onward, swimming as fast as I could back to the pier. I reached it after a few minutes, pulling myself back up the ladder and onto the dry wood. I lay there for a moment, breathing heavily, then slowly sat up as I looked out at the ocean. The boat was tiny now, disappearing into the distance. I squinted, grinning as I realized the boat was still moving away from the shore. This was my chance! I had a couple of hours with no father to cockblock me. All I had to do was track down Mateo and finish what we started. I hurried back to the resort, speed-walking as I kept my eyes out for the sexy pool boy. I knew he’d said today was his day off, so I just had to hope that he hadn’t gone home yet. I wandered the resort grounds, looking for that distinctive smile and those floral shorts, but couldn’t see him anywhere. Frustrated, I stopped by the front desk, where that chubby manager was quietly berating the concierge. “Excuse me. Do you know if Mateo is still here?” He turned to face me, his look of annoyance turning into fake cheeriness. “Good afternoon! Mateo is off today, but I would be more than happy to–” “Yeah, I know he’s off,” I said irritably. “But he was around earlier. I was just wondering if he’d left.” Anthony’s smile faltered. “As I said, I would be happy to help you with whatever–” “LEO!” A shiver went through me as the sound of my dad’s booming voice reverberated throughout the front hall. I turned to see him striding toward me, dripping water all over the polished linoleum. He still had the life preserver around his waist, squeezed so tightly against his stomach that it was a surprise he managed to fit it around him at all. I froze, not knowing what to do, when out of the corner of my eye I saw a flash of floral. I jerked my head around to see Mateo at the end of the hall, his hand hovering over the button to the elevator. I looked back at my dad, who had nearly halved the distance between us in the short time since he called my name. “Good afternoon, sir!” the manager called out to my father as he walked toward him. “Can I get you a towel?” I took that moment and made a break for it. I ran as fast as I could toward the elevator, ignoring my father’s angry voice calling after me. I got to the elevator just as the doors opened and Mateo stepped inside. “Hey!” I said casually, my voice completely out of breath. “Fancy… seeing you… here.” Mateo raised an eyebrow. “Leo? What are you–” “Leo Wyte! Don’t you dare get in that elevator!” I jumped in the elevator and jabbed the door close button as fast as I could. Mateo watched me in confusion as the doors shut just a second before my father could stop it. “Well, that was awkward earlier, huh?” I said, wincing. “Listen, Leo.” Mateo lifted his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I don’t wanna give you the wrong idea.” “Wrong idea? What wrong idea?” He sighed. “I think you’re cute and all, but this isn’t gonna happen.” I frowned. “What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?” He gestured toward the doors. “If my boss finds out I’ve been fraternizing with a guest, I’ll get fired. And besides, your dad is probably running up the stairs right now to come find you.” I reached out my fist and jabbed the red emergency stop button. The elevator came to a sudden, jerky halt. Mateo looked at me like I was nuts. “What the fuck?” “There.” I folded my arms. “Now we have all the time in the world.” “Leo,” said Mateo, his breathing growing fast and heavy. “What did you do?” I rolled my eyes. “Don’t worry. I just wanted to give us some privacy.” I put my arms around his neck and smiled sweetly. “I only need a few minutes, promise.” Mateo unhooked my arms and pointed at the control panel. “Turn it back on. Now.” I scoffed. “Oh come on–” “Now!” he snapped. I glared at him. “Fine. God forbid a girl try to have some fun on vacation.” I pressed the button again. Nothing happened. “What’s going on?” Mateo asked, his voice strangely high. I frowned. “I don’t know…” I pressed the button again, but still nothing happened. “Are you supposed to pull it out or something–” “No, you just push it,” Mateo said quickly. He pushed me aside and jabbed at the button, but the elevator remained stuck. He hit every button on the wall, but still nothing happened. “Oh fuck. Maldito idiota!” He sat with his back against the wall, his face in his hands as he rocked slowly back and forth. I stared at him with a raised eyebrow. “Okay, don’t know what that means, but it did not sound very kind. What’s your deal? The elevator is just stuck. I’m sure it’ll be fixed any minute now.” He shook his head. “No, it won’t. This thing is a piece of shit. Last time it broke down it took hours to fix. Fuck, the one time I decide to get on this goddamn elevator it breaks down. Shit!” I squinted at him. “Are you… afraid of elevators or something?” His breathing grew more erratic as he rocked back and forth. “I don’t do good in small spaces.” I winced. “Ah. Whoops.” I sat down next to him and put my hand on his back. “There, there,” I said weakly. He put his face in his hands again and started whimpering. Before I could think of anything else to say, a muffled voice rang out from above. “Leo?” My stomach dropped. Of course it would be him. My father’s voice carried down into the elevator shaft. “Leo? Are you in there? What’s going on?” I got to my feet, jamming the close door button even though they were firmly shut and we were hopelessly trapped. “No! Nothing’s happening! We’re fine!” The elevator made a groaning sound. Mateo let out a small yelp. “Leo, Anthony’s here with me. Hold tight–we’re going to get you out.” Mateo bolted upright. “Oh, thank God. We’re in here! Help us!” That was a little dramatic for my tastes, but whatever. I sat down in the corner, pouting, as the elevator rang with heavy bangs and the sound of a mechanical creak. Finally the doors began to slowly slide open. As the gap widened, I could see we were stuck between floors. My father and the resort manager were crouched on the upper level, peering in on us. “Leo,” my father said sternly. “What did you do?” “What makes you think I did anything?” “He broke the elevator!” Mateo called out. I shot him a glare. Fucking narc. “Just come on,” said my father. He reached his big, burly arm through the gap and extended his hand toward me. “I’ll pull you out first.” I bristled. “I’m fine. Get HIM out!” I gestured at Mateo, who was clinging to the wall of the elevator as though he might fly away. Mateo shook his head. “No. No, I can’t–I can’t climb through there.” “You’re fine,” my dad said soothingly. “Just take my hand, I’ll help you.” The color drained from Mateo’s face. “I can’t… what if it moves again and chops me in half, like in that movie!” I rolled my eyes and grabbed my dad’s hand. “Fine. I’ll go first and show you how easy it is.” I braced my feet against the wall, awkwardly scrambling up as my father pulled me through the small gap. It wasn’t pretty, and I’m pretty sure Mateo got a front row seat to my ass crack, but finally I scrambled through onto the flat surface of the second floor. Dad took me in his arms and squeezed the life out of me. “Don’t you ever do that again!” His voice was gruff, but his hands were gentle as he softly stroked my hair. I pushed him away and gestured to the elevator. “I’m fine. Go get him out, he’s the little pussy that can’t handle closed spaces.” Dad crouched down and leaned through the gap again. “Take my hand, Mateo.” I heard Mateo’s voice, weak and shrill. “No, I can’t!” Before I knew what was happening, my father had squeezed through the gap and lowered himself into the elevator. “Dad, what are you doing?” I peered through the gap and hissed, “Just get him out, you don’t need to–” Suddenly the elevator groaned ominously, and with a jolt, dropped a few feet. I blinked in surprise as my father and Mateo disappeared from view. For a moment, I had the terrifying thought that something may have happened to my father and Mateo, something that was entirely my fault. But as I peered through the gap in the doors, I could see the top of the elevator had stopped just a few inches below us. “Dad! Dad, can you hear me?” I pressed my ear against the opening to the elevator shaft, but couldn’t hear any response. “What the fuck?” I said, turning to the resort manager. He looked at me apologetically. “So sorry about all this. Uh… I’m sure they’re fine.” “What the hell kind of shitty elevator system do you people have going on here?” I said angrily. He swallowed. “The technician is on his way. He’ll be able to get it fixed in no time.” “How do we know they’re okay in there?” He pointed back toward the stairwell. “There’s a security camera system in my office. We can watch from there.” I followed him to his office, a mix of guilt and anger swirling in my stomach. Why was it that every one of my plans was a bust? And of course Dad would come out of this looking like a hero, AGAIN. But if I was being honest (which I rarely am), I was riddled with anxiety. What if something happened to my dad? As much as he annoyed me sometimes, it would fucking kill me if he got hurt because of me. Naturally, I don’t like to embrace thoughts like that, so I shook it off and soldiered on with brave petulance. The control room was lined with computers showing security feeds of various parts of the hotel. Anthony pressed a few buttons and one of the monitors lit up. The screen showed a grainy black-and-white view of the inside of the elevator. I leaned forward, squinting to see my dad crouched beside Mateo. Mateo was on the floor again, knees pulled to his chest, breathing hard. “What’s he doing?” I muttered. “Can you turn the sound on?” I asked the manager. He pressed another button and audio from the elevator started pouring out through the speakers. “Breathe with me,” my father said, his deep voice sounding scratchy through the low-quality speakers. “Can we talk to them?” I asked. Anthony gave me an awkward grimace. “The intercom system is kind of sketchy. I’ve been meaning to get it replaced, but–” “I don’t think I can do this.” Mateo’s voice rang out through the speakers. I turned to see him shaking his head, then my father putting his hands on his shoulders. “With me,” he said gently. “In for four seconds… that’s it… then out for four seconds… good.” Mateo looked up at my dad, his lip trembling. “I’m so fucking scared.” Dad put his hand on his cheek and stroked it softly. “I know. I’m here.” Mateo grabbed his hand and held it tightly against his face. With his other hand, my father reached up and gently stroked Mateo’s hair. “No,” I whispered, my stomach curling in a knot. “No, no, no–” “Hey,” said my dad. “Look at me. Just for a second.” Mateo looked up at my dad, his eyes wide. “You ever been on a boat in rough water? You know, where it’s rocking back and forth, and you can’t do a damn thing about it?” Mateo nodded. “Yeah, I guess.” Dad smiled. “I used to be terrified of sailing. So seasick I’d puke before we even pushed off from the harbor. But I found a trick to help me get through it. You know what that is?” Mateo shook his head. Dad smiled a little. “I find something steady and focus on it. The horizon, a handrail… or someone’s face. I just stare at it and tune everything else out.” He looked around the tiny elevator and grinned. “There’s not a lot of options in here, but you pick.” He winked. “I think I’ve got a pretty steady face, don’t you?” Mateo managed a faint, shaky laugh. “That’s the worst advice I’ve ever heard.” “I’m here all week,” my dad said with a grin. “Now come on–just keep your eyes on me and breathe with me. That’s it.” Mateo took several deep breaths, his eyes locked on my father’s. Anthony and I watched in awkward silence. I got the sense that we were both curious as to what would happen next. After a moment, Dad let out a chuckle. “What’s so funny?” Mateo asked, his voice a bit lighter than before. “Nothing, I just… I guess I can see why my son is so interested in you.” My face grew red, as I’m sure Mateo’s did as well. Of fucking course. “That’s sweet,” he said quietly. “Seriously,” my dad said, his eyes still trained on Mateo’s. “If I was his age, I’d probably be making moves on you as well.” Mateo laughed, his body relaxing slightly. “You… you would?” Dad grinned. “Hell yeah. And I wouldn’t need to trap you in an elevator, either.” Wow, thanks a fucking lot! “What… I mean, what would you have done?” Mateo was looking shyly up at my father now. Dad licked his lips. “Well, let’s see. I’d probably start simple. Compliment your smile, for example. Not too much, but just enough to let you know I noticed.” Mateo grinned. “My smile? That’s a little basic, don’t you think?” “Well, you do have a killer smile,” my dad said, his voice low and teasing. “Then I’d try to make you laugh.” “Oh yeah? How?” “Mm, something like, ‘Are all the employees as easy on the eyes as you, or do they pay you extra for that?’” Mateo let out a loud laugh. “Okay, that’s really dumb.” Dad winked. “Got you laughing, didn’t it?” I turned to the manager. “When is this fucking technician arriving?” He grimaced again. “He should be here any minute.” “What next?” The sound of Mateo’s voice turned our attention back to the screen. “I’d probably ask you questions about yourself.” “Like what?” “Hmmm… like what do you like to do outside of work? What time do you get off? Do you like it gentle or rough?” Even through the grainy monitor, I could see the energy in the elevator shifting. Mateo’s eyes were locked on my father, and there was a hunger in there that sadly I had never seen before. Before anything could happen, however, the elevator jolted slightly and Mateo gripped my father’s arm tightly. “Keep looking at me,” my father said, his voice strong and commanding. “Don’t lose focus. Just breathe.” They breathed together for a few seconds, Mateo’s eyes wide with fright. Their faces were close now–closer than before. I watched in annoyance as my father leaned in and pressed a soft, reassuring kiss to Mateo’s forehead. “I’ve got you,” he whispered. My stomach dropped as I saw Mateo’s head tilt upwards, his lips meeting my father’s in a desperate kiss. “You’ve GOT to be kidding me!” I cried out. Anthony looked over at me, bewildered. “What–” “You better go find that fucking technician RIGHT NOW!” I snapped. He nodded, then scurried away. I turned back to the screen to see my father and Mateo kissing passionately, the sloppy sounds of their kisses coming out of the speaker as if I was right there in the room. My father was gripping the sides of Mateo’s face, pulling him in as their tongues battled hungrily. The younger man’s hands rested against my father’s beefy chest, his body limp as a rag doll as my father devoured him. My dad grabbed the hem of Mateo’s shirt and started pulling it slowly up, revealing the tanned skin of his torso and his light brown nipples. He yanked the shirt off over the boy’s head, then pulled off his own shirt, tossing both onto the floor beside them. Mateo put his hands on my father’s chest again, running his fingers through the forest of hair that covered him. He leaned in and took one of my father’s nipples in his mouth, licking it hungrily. Dad leaned back and sighed, his eyes closed as he enjoyed the feeling of Mateo’s mouth. Despite my annoyance at the situation, I could feel my dick getting hard. With the manager gone, I was alone in the control room, so I pulled my cock out of my bathing suit and started to stroke it. I watched as Dad ran his fingers through the man’s hair, then gripped it tightly as he yanked his head back and dove in for another kiss. Dad got to his feet, pulling Mateo up with him and pushing the younger man up against the elevator wall. He slipped his hands underneath Mateo’s shorts, squeezing his cheeks (those cheeks I knew so well!) as he kissed the younger man’s neck. Mateo whimpered in my father’s arms, holding the back of his head as my Dad hungrily sucked and kissed his neck. “Oh, Jud,” he moaned. “That feels so good…” He let out a little cry. From the motion of Dad’s arm, I assumed my father had slipped his finger inside Mateo’s hole and was now stretching him open in preparation for his cock. Mateo’s eyes fluttered as he succumbed to my Dad’s probing fingers. Dad pulled back and the look in his eyes was feral. “Turn around. I need to taste you.” Mateo pressed his face against the wall, whimpering as my father got to his knees and slowly lowered his floral shorts. Those round, fuzzy globes slowly peeked back into view for a moment before my father blocked it, planting little kisses on Mateo’s cheeks. He pulled the shorts down to Mateo’s ankles then, with the rough movements of a tradesman, spread his cheeks wide. From this angle, I couldn’t see Mateo’s asshole, but the gasp my father let out reminded me of my own awe at seeing it for the first time. “You’re fucking beautiful,” my dad murmured, then dove into Mateo’s ass with the ferocity of a wild animal. Mateo’s fingers curled against the wall, his body shaking as my dad ate his hole. His eyes rolled in the back of his head, and his body slumped slightly as the pleasure became too much for him to handle. Sounds of slurping and grunting blasted through the speaker, punctuated every once in a while by a wail from Mateo or a “Fuck, that’s good pussy,” from my father. After a few minutes of chowing down, my dad pulled his face away for a moment to give Mateo a sharp spank. “Does that feel good?” he asked. Mateo moaned weakly. “Yes.” Dad’s face stretched in an evil grin. He gave Mateo’s pussy a lick and said, “Even better than my son?” My face burned as Mateo nodded and said, “Oh, God yes!” To my surprise, that made me even harder than before. Humiliated, my cock was leaking like crazy as I stroked it faster. Dad got to his feet, his left hand still holding Mateo’s ass cheeks apart. “Are you ready to feel me inside you?” “Yes,” Mateo said with a whimper. “So tell me,” Dad said as he undid the drawstring to his bathing suit and let it fall to the ground. “Which is it? Gentle? Or rough?” Mateo’s legs were shaking as he saw my father’s thick, engorged cock pointed right at him. “I… I…” Dad smirked as he pressed the head of his cock against Mateo’s hole. “Don’t worry. I know exactly what you want.” “Don’t do it, Mateo!” I shouted at the screen. “Don’t let him put his big, dumb dick inside you!” Of course, neither of them could hear me. I watched helplessly as my father spit in his hand, gave it a quick swirl around his dick, then plunged balls-deep into Mateo in one fell swoop. Even MY asshole puckered watching that! But instead of screaming bloody murder like I would have, Mateo let out a cry of pleasure, pushed his ass back, and surrendered to my father’s thrusts. Even through the screen I could see the look of stupid joy on his face as Dad pummeled his asshole. It was a look I had seen several times before now, and I was starting to believe every man who took my father inside him felt the same blinding, mind-numbing ecstasy. Dad had one hand on Mateo’s shoulder and the other on his waist, holding him steady as he penetrated him with short, firm strokes. His face was hard with determination, his jaw rigid as he thrust his hips forward and up. A sudden thrust made Mateo’s eyes grow wide. “Oh… oh, fuck!” he cried. Dad grinned. “Found it. Always had a knack for finding a boy’s button.” He started fucking faster now, attacking Mateo’s prostate with the smug confidence only an older, experienced top could have. Mateo’s face was pressed against the wall, his legs shaking as he did everything he could to keep his ass in just the right place for my father’s penetrations. I watched them for a minute, captivated by the sounds of groaning, whimpering, and flesh smacking against flesh that came out of the speaker. Finally the exertion of getting his pussy railed by my dad proved too much for Mateo and his legs gave out, sending him tumbling to the floor. My father, ever the champ, kept a firm grip on the boy’s waist, his cock remaining firmly lodged inside him. He was on top of him now, his weight crushing the younger man into the elevator’s carpet as he continued humping him. Mateo’s hand reached back and gripped my father’s ass cheek, squeezing his flesh as if holding on for dear life. Dad leaned in and nibbled on Mateo’s ear. “You’re so fucking tight,” he said in between grunts. “Warm… wet… just like I thought you’d be…” “Oh…” Mateo moaned weakly. “I’ve wanted to feel you wrapped around my dick since I saw you with my son by the pool.” “Mmm… oh, señor, that feels so good…” “Push back into me… that’s it…” Mateo’s ass was lifted off the ground now, his back arched to allow my father deeper access into his rectum. His hand was between his legs, weakly jerking himself off as Dad heaved against him. “Fuck, boy,” Dad groaned. “You’re gonna make me cum.” “Sí,” Mateo moaned. “I want it.” “Where?” “Inside…” Dad pulled out, his cock wet with Mateo’s juices. “Then I wanna look in your eyes as I seed you.” He grabbed Mateo’s waist, flipped him over, and sank back into him in one quick stroke. He held the back of Mateo’s head, their eyes locked as he worked back up to his orgasm. Little drops of sweat fell from his forehead onto Mateo’s, but the pool boy never looked away. I had never seen this kind of connection between two people before, this unspoken communication. Strangely, I found myself feeling jealous of Mateo. Who was he to share this connection with my dad? I was his son, I was the one who should be bonding with him, not this stranger we only met yesterday. I mean, not that I wanted to have sex with him, of course. I was just jealous of their closeness, that’s all. A sudden groaning sound from the elevator snapped Mateo out of his lustful haze. His eyes darted left and right, but my father held him tighter and said, “Don’t look away. Keep looking at me. That’s it. I’ve got you. Daddy’s got you. I’m almost there. I can’t wait to cum in you, boy.” I was on the edge of my seat when the sound of the door to the control room being opened nearly gave me a heart attack. “The technician is here!” said the manager. “He’s downstairs in the maintenance room fixing it right now. If you’ll come with me…” Reluctantly, I pried myself away from the screen. I tucked my cock into the waistband of my speedos, holding my hands over it to block my obvious erection. I followed the manager down the stairs and into some back room full of control boxes and electrical wiring. A man in a sweaty gray jumpsuit stood in front of a large metal control panel, tinkering away at the wires spilling out in every direction. “How much longer?” The manager asked, his voice sharp with impatience. “Almost there,” the technician said without looking up. “System’s resetting now. Should have the car moving in a minute.” “Again, so sorry about this,” the manager said to me. “We will absolutely offer you a 10% refund on your stay–” “Got it!” The technician closed the cabinet and looked triumphantly at the manager. “Doors should open as soon as the car levels with the floor.” The manager nodded briskly and gestured for me to follow him out of the room. We hurried up the stairs and down the hallway to the elevator, where the doors were just beginning to creak open. “Sir, I am so, so sorr–” The manager’s words were cut short by the sight that greeted us within the elevator. My father’s naked, sweaty, hairy body enveloped Mateo’s smaller frame, his arms wrapped tightly around the younger man. His eyes were shut, his face stretched tight in intense concentration as he cried out, “Fuck… here it comes!” The manager and I watched in frozen shock as my dad’s body jerked several times, his cock undoubtedly spewing his seed deep, deep inside Mateo’s guts. Mateo’s face was buried against my father’s chest, so I couldn’t see his reaction, but from the way he held my father’s ass cheeks for dear life, it was clear he was doing just fine. Dad’s breathing grew slower as his orgasm drew to a close, and he leaned his sweaty forehead against Mateo’s shoulder and let out a laugh. “Fuck, you know how to deliver five-star service.” I cleared my throat, at which point my father looked up and saw us standing there. “Oh, hey kiddo,” he said casually. “Glad to see you made it.” “So much for keeping your distance,” I muttered, glowering. “What on Earth is going on here, Mateo?” said Anthony. Mateo lifted his head from my father’s chest and looked at me, then the manager. The sight of Anthony frowning down at him made him bolt upright. “Uh… it’s not what it looks like!” The manager scoffed. “Gentleman, I think we should continue this conversation elsewhere. Mateo, put your clothes on and see me in my office. I think it’s time we reconsider your future here at the Paradisus.” Mateo grabbed his clothes and started dressing sheepishly. Dad got to his feet, his cock still slightly engorged, and walked over to the manager. “Oh, come now, Anthony. It’s all just a big misunderstanding,” he said, clapping him on the shoulder with a big, sweaty hand. Anthony gazed down at my father’s swinging cock, swallowed, and shook his head. “I’m terribly sorry for your experience. But this is not the kind of behavior I can condone from my employees.” Dad put his arm around him and pulled him off to the side. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but I saw the manager slowly grow less tense and more relaxed. Dad leaned in his ear and whispered something that made him giggle, and he nodded. Dad then walked over to Mateo, who had gotten dressed now, and gave him a pat on the cheek. “Don’t worry, kid. It’s all settled. Sorry about all this mess, though if there’s anyone I’d like to be stuck in an elevator with, it’s you.” Mateo blushed. “Gracias. Thank you for… helping me through it.” He shot me a look of embarrassment, then pushed past me and disappeared down the hallway. “I hope you’re happy,” I said, folding my arms and trying to look disapproving. Dad gave a short laugh as he grabbed his bathing suit and pulled it back over his thick, meaty thighs. “You broke the deal when you bailed on the snorkeling trip, son,” he said, tucking his spent cock back into his bathing suit. I was about to argue when a loud voice shouted out from behind us, “THERE you guys are!” My mother bounded toward us, her skin flushed from the sun. “Ugh, you both missed an AMAZING snorkeling trip. The reef was so beautiful! We got to see all the beautiful fishies, and the vegetation… Oh, honey, you’re all wet,” she said to my dad, who was still sweaty from fucking Mateo. She turned to me and raised an eyebrow. “Now I’m gonna need some kind of an explanation, Leo. I want to know what the hell that stunt was, jumping off the boat. And your father running after you, you could have drowned again!” Before I could answer, Dad put his arm around me and chuckled. “I think our brave adventurer here got cold feet about going out into the open ocean. But it’s all good. We had plenty of fun hanging out by the pool.” Mom smiled and put her hand on her heart. “Oh, boys. It’s just nice to finally see you two bonding.” She reached over and pressed the button for the elevator, which popped open. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m gonna go have a shower. Oh, Christ it reeks in here.” As the doors closed behind her, Dad leaned in and put his arm around me. “What do you say we call it even, son?” I rolled my eyes. “Even, huh?” He grinned. “At the very least, just don’t tell your mother.”

He’ll lose his virginity eventually, I promise! There are ten total chapters.

Cucked By My Dad Chapter 03 Dad seduces the pastor! Well, it’s official. High school has come and gone and I’m STILL a virgin. Even my friend Gibby lost her virginity! And she’s hideous! Okay, maybe not hideous, but still. We swore we would be deflowered by the time we graduated, and I can’t believe that bucktoothed Gibby Berkman managed to make good while I didn’t. It’s not her fault, though. She’s not the one who slipped in and fucked both my boyfriend AND the high school quarterback before I could have a chance to. That honor would belong to my father, Jud. He’s like a walking sex machine. Ever since I can remember, my friends would beg to come over after school just so they could get a chance to run into him. I used to think I was popular, but then my dad would walk in the room and it was like I didn’t exist. Previously, he would just smile and ignore the attention, but ever since I turned 18, it’s like he’s been actively cock blocking me! First, there was my boyfriend, Kevin. Hot, actor, scruff that you could just die for. What does Dad do? He fucks him up the ass. And at a family dinner, no less! Then there was the school quarterback, a meathead named Brock who used to let me suck his dick after school. I’m this close to sealing the deal, when what happens? Dad swoops in and fucks him AGAIN. If I’m being honest, I can’t really blame them, either. Dad’s always been attractive–hairy and muscular with a little bit of a dad bod. And since he loves walking around the house in tighty whities, I know he’s hung, too. I’m sure if he were someone else’s dad I’d be all over him. But no, I’m just left with the thankless task of being his son—the second fiddle to his Don Juan. Now that I had officially graduated, it seemed I was all but destined to go to college with my virginity still intact. And to top it all off, Dad and I were stuck with each other for a week on this stupid church mission trip. My family and I go to one of those modern-day evangelical megachurches where you have like seven pastors and no one can really tell what any of them do. Pastor Carl was the one who organized the mission trips, where a group of college kids would go to some church in North Carolina to do community service for a week. Dad volunteered as a chaperone, although I’m pretty sure he was just doing it to keep an eye on me since it was my first time going. At this point, I wouldn’t have put it past him to put one of those 17th-century chastity belts on me and call it a day. But it’s not like he needed to bother–how was I possibly going to get laid when I was stuck all week doing manual labor with a bunch of Christian college kids? Even on the way to North Carolina, as I sat at the back of the bus listening to Taylor Swift and eyeing the other boys for potential virginity-takers, I knew my chances were slim. There was Levi, a rising second year and Messianic Jew I’d known since childhood. He was hot, for sure–buzzed brown hair, a gorgeous, statuesque nose, and a killer smile–but he was 100% straight and annoyingly kind. He’d been the first one to congratulate me when I came out, and he’d always come to my defense whenever someone raised an issue with my being gay. His heterosexuality was the one thing that kept me from fully believing in a loving, compassionate God. Then there was the rising third year, Todd: thin, lanky, and aggressively heterosexual. He was kind of cute in that sinewy Pete Davidson kind of way. But his sexual misdeeds were an open secret, as even I knew that his rich parents had paid for at least three girls to get out of “trouble.” He sat two rows in front of me, secretly watching Twitter porn on his phone and shooting nervous looks whenever anyone walked past in the aisle. There was the rising fourth year, Elijah: a short, kind of beefy redhead with a boy-next-door haircut and pouty lips that would look perfect on my pink purse. But he was the least likely of all my suitors–practically married to Jesus already, he never went anywhere without his cross necklace and Bible. Even now he was nose-deep in it when he should have been nose-deep in something much softer and wetter. (I mean my pussy. Just in case you were wondering.) The rest of the college kids on the mission trip were all girls, so there was no chance there. No, it seemed as though the next week of my life was destined to remain as virginal as the last 18 years of my life. Then Pastor Carl sat down next to me. “Hey Leo,” he said casually. He gave me that classic straight guy nod, like one of those old guys who’s just “one of the kids.” In Pastor Carl’s case, however, he kind of was. This man was not your average pastor: slicked-back hair, muscular arms covered with tattoos, always wearing his signature beanie and oversized Jeffrey Dahmer glasses. He still wore skinny jeans, which was somehow hot and not offputting based on his age and the fact that it wasn’t 2008. He was like 35 or so, which was practically ancient as far as I was concerned but still young enough to seem relevant. We all really liked him because he would always talk frankly with us about stuff like drinking or smoking pot. He was also really fucking hot. Pastor Carl sighed, stretching his legs out in the narrow space. “I love these trips,” he said, gazing out the window for a moment. “Being of service… it gives me a chance to reflect, you know? Unplug from the world, get out of the usual routine.” I shrugged. “I guess.” He narrowed his eyes. “You don’t sound too excited.” “As excited as I can be about manual labor.” He laughed. “I hear you. God’s work isn’t always glamorous, but we’ll make sure to have some fun too.” He winked at me. I found myself blushing. Did he mean it like I thought he did? No, that was ridiculous. The man was married, and besides, he was totally Christian. Sure, he had big biceps and he smelled like sandalwood and musk. And yes, I had pictured myself sucking on his foreskin like any red-blooded American twink would. But that was a fantasy, right? “Tell me, what’s one thing you’re looking forward to this week?” he asked. “I guess the camping trip at Lake Laurie next weekend.” He smiled. “That’s my favorite part too. It’ll be good to relax after a week of doing God’s work. Lay out in the sun, get that tan going…” He stretched his arms up high, causing his shirt to ride up a little. I glanced down to see a treasure trail leading underneath his jeans. Fuck. When I looked up, he was smiling at me. “So, Leo.” His voice was low now, and he leaned in like we were sharing a secret. “You dating anyone? Got a girlfriend or… boyfriend, maybe?” I swallowed. Pastor Carl knew very well I was gay–the whole church did. Not that he and I had ever talked about it. But based on the way this conversation was going, perhaps we should have! “N-no,” I said, caught off guard. I took a moment to collect myself then turned toward him, crossing my legs and batting my eyes. “I mean, I had a boyfriend for a little while, but… it didn’t work out.” He smiled. “I just wanna say I think you’re really brave. Living in your truth like that.” I smiled shyly. “Thanks. It’s just who I am, I guess. God just… showed me what I wanted. Who am I to say no to that?” He nodded. “Yeah.” He put a hand to his chest. “I mean, I personally don’t agree with the lifestyle, but that doesn’t mean I don’t respect you for being yourself. Hate the sin, love the sinner, right?” I giggled, brushing back my brown curls. “You’re so right, Pastor Carl.” He leaned in closer, his cologne wafting into my nose like the smell of Brock’s sweaty balls after football practice. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that temptation is everywhere. I’m a happily married man, but that doesn’t mean God doesn’t put my faith to the test every day. It’s tough, especially when there’s so much out there to want. You know what I’m saying?” I touched his bicep, giving it a subtle squeeze. “I know exactly what you mean.” He smiled, and I was almost entirely sure that he was flexing his arm for me. But before anything else could happen, I spotted my father lumbering down the aisle toward me. I took my hand away from the pastor’s arm and leaned back in my seat. “Thanks for the talk, Pastor Carl,” I said. He patted my leg. “Anytime.” He got up and passed my father in the aisle, greeting him with a warm smile and a pat on the shoulder. Dad sat down next to me, his heft taking up the whole seat and then some. “How you doing, son? I hope you’re talking to the other kids, not just isolating back here and listening to Taylor Swift.” My face reddened. “I’m fine, Dad. I don’t need you looking out for me this week, okay? I can handle myself.” My dad grunted. “Sure you can. I just thought maybe we could bond a little this week, father and son. How’s that sound?” I rolled my eyes. “I’m serious,” he said. “Your mom was devastated she couldn’t come on the trip, you know how much she loves home renovation. If she hadn’t caught that damn African sleeping sickness, it would be the three of us on a Wyte family adventure. But you and I can still have fun, right?” He grabbed my shoulder and squeezed. I avoided his gaze–I was still pretty peeved about him cucking me and I didn’t want him to think we were too chummy. “Well, Leo? What do you say?” I spotted Pastor Carl sitting toward the front of the bus. He caught my eye and winked at me. “Sure, Dad. That sounds like fun.” I spent the rest of the bus ride brainstorming ways to seduce the pastor. I could come on strong, find some excuse to be alone with him and just drop trou. But I wasn’t entirely certain he wanted to fuck me, and I didn’t want to run the risk that he’d freak and tell my dad. If I was going to seduce him, I had to be cautious and feel him out. Plus with my dad on the trip, I had to take extra care not to let him know my intentions. After what happened with Kevin and Brock, I didn’t trust him to be within ten feet of Pastor Carl. Luckily, my dad tended to think with his dick instead of his brain, so I knew a little creative maneuvering could help me throw him off the scent. All I needed to do was make Dad think I was interested in one of the other college boys, then I’d be free to pursue Pastor Carl while Dad was distracted. But who to pick? Levi wouldn’t work–he was too good of a friend and I didn’t want to fuck that up. Todd was hot enough, and he certainly had the sex drive I was looking for, but my dad would never buy it. That just left… “Hey, Elijah!” I said cheerily when we got off the bus. He turned to look at me, those pouty red lips parted in an “o” of surprise. “Oh… hey Leo. How’s it going?” “Oh, you know. It’s going.” I dragged my bag behind me, making a show of how heavy it was. “Are you having trouble?” he asked, eyeing my bag. I put my hand on my cheek, feigning embarrassment. “Oh gosh. You must think I’m such a wimp. I thought I’d packed light, but…” I looked down at his beefy chest. “I guess I’m just not as strong and manly as you are.” He swallowed. “Uh, I could carry it for you if you wanted.” My eyes lit up. “Really? Oh, thank you so much! You’re such a gentleman.” I gave him a kiss on the cheek, then dropped the bag on the ground with a big thud. He picked it up and hefted it over his shoulder, his cross necklace swinging against his chest with the effort. I saw my father watching me warily, his jaw clenched tightly. I gave him a little wave and skipped along into the church. We were staying at some old Baptist church in North Carolina, a great big building that sat empty during the week when it wasn’t Sunday. This would be our lodging until Friday when we would set off for Lake Laurie and camp until Sunday morning. The boys were staying in one of the preschool classrooms at the far end of the church, while the girls were staying in the parlor off of the sanctuary. As the male chaperone, my father would be staying with us, while the female chaperone would stay with the girls. Since my mother couldn’t come, the female chaperone was Mrs. Turnbright, Elijah’s mother. She was a cold, stern woman, and I could tell she didn’t think much of me after I came out of the closet. Well, her opinion of me was about to get a whole lot worse! “Come pull your sleeping bag next to me, Elijah,” I said, patting the spot beside me. He shot a look at Todd, then set his bag down on the floor next to mine. “I just wanted to say, I really admire your faith,” I said, shaking my head in what I hoped was warm admiration. “You’re the only guy I know who really practices what you preach.” He smiled, fingering his cross necklace. “Yeah.” “I would love to pick your brain about a few things this week,” I said. “Like, what’s the deal with Job? God kept doing all that shit to him and he just took it. Was he stupid?” We were interrupted by Todd, who dropped his sleeping bag next to Elijah’s. “Yo, you guys ready to get lit this week or what?” He unzipped his bag to show a small liter of vodka. “When the old folks go to sleep, I say we meet in the sanctuary. Bring the girls, get a little frisky. What do you say?” Elijah frowned. “I don’t think so. We’re staying at a church. That feels… kinda wrong.” Todd zipped his bag and blew a raspberry. “Boo. You guys are boring. I’m sure Levi’s with me, right dude?” Levi was currently rifling through his bag. “Don’t bring me into this, man.” Todd made a tsking sound. “Whatever. Y’all are just mad 'cause I’m the only one getting pussy.” His eyes snapped up to the door when my dad entered, lugging a large duffel bag and an extra large sleeping bag. “Listen up, boys,” he said, swinging the door shut behind him. “I know you’re all adults, but when you’re under our roof, you abide by our rules. That means I don’t wanna see any purpling this week, you hear?” Todd frowned. “Purpling?” Dad grunted. “Boys are blue, girls are red. They don’t mix. We clear?” The boys all nodded. Little did Dad know, however, that I intended to make a deep, dark shade of indigo. The next day, they got us up at dawn to eat breakfast before heading out to work for the day. I made sure to slide in next to Elijah, chatting him up and laughing at all of his jokes (at least, I think they were jokes. It’s hard to tell with him). It didn’t seem to matter, as Dad kept glancing over at us. Perfect. He was biting. After breakfast, we piled into the rental vans. Dad pulled Elijah aside, saying, “Why don’t you ride in my van, son?” He put his arm around Elijah and rustled his hair. “I’d love to pick your brain about how the Bulldogs are doing this season.” I stifled a smirk. Man, Dad was gullible. I hopped into the front seat of the other van, right beside Pastor Carl. The scent of his cologne was even stronger in the confined space, and I had to remind myself to breathe normally. “Where are we going, today?” I asked. “There’s a little old lady from the church who needs help cleaning out her basement. You ready for some heavy lifting?” I pouted, leaning back. “I’m no good at all that. I’ve tried going to the gym but I just can’t get big. Not like you, Pastor Carl.” He chuckled, his fingers drumming the wheel. “It just takes time. You’ve got the frame for it, though. Don’t give up too soon.” I blinked, playing it up. “You really think so?” I pulled my legs up onto the seat, tucking them sideways. His eyes lingered, just for a second, on my thighs, smooth and pale against the dark interior. “Definitely,” he said, his voice a little lower than before. When we got there, an old lady with a bright smile was waiting for us outside the house. “Oh, thank you all so much!” she said. “I don’t get down to the basement anymore, not since my husband passed.” Pastor Carl clasped her hands gently, all warmth. “It’s our pleasure, Magdalene. We’re here to help.” It may have been his pleasure, but it certainly was not mine. The basement was dank and mildewy and smelled like shit. Everything was caked in a layer of mold and I nearly gagged having to carry this shit outside. The only thing that kept me going was that Pastor Carl was wearing a tank top, which showed off his ridiculously buff and tan shoulders. His shirt left little to the imagination, revealing flexing muscles and more tattoos than I’d ever seen before. They crept underneath his shirt, invoking my curiosity. I donned a face mask and a pair of gloves, tried to breathe through my mouth, and concentrated on what it would be like to get in the pastor’s pants. We worked for hours, breaking only for lunch. By the time we got home, I was so exhausted I could barely make it through dinner. I made a half-hearted attempt to flirt with Elijah a bit then crawled into my sleeping bag and passed out. The next day we went to a different house out in the country. This time some single mother needed us to paint a nursery, which required at least four coats of paint to cover up the hideous shade of burgundy underneath. It was another scorcher of a day and the lady was so poor she didn’t even have AC (ugh), so I was absolutely drenched by the time lunch came around. We ate prepackaged sandwiches and chips at a picnic table in the backyard. Dad had already planted himself beside Elijah, so I sat down next to the pastor and opened my sandwich. The afternoon heat clung to him and I wondered what his balls must smell like. “You did real good this morning, Leo,” he said, taking a big bite of his sandwich. I shrugged. “Thanks. Like you said, it’s good to help out.” “I know you said you had trouble growing muscle, but I think you look pretty good.” He grabbed my shoulder and squeezed. “You’re growing into a pretty strong man.” “Thanks,” I said, my voice cracking. He wiped his hands and stood up. “Why don’t you take a walk with me?” He beckoned me with a casual nod, but there was something in his eyes that made my pussy throb. My dad was deep in a conversation with Elijah, so I stood and followed him into the woods behind the house. The sun filtered through the trees, casting patches of light on the dirt path. We walked in silence for a while until we couldn’t see anyone else. It was hot and I was getting eaten alive by mosquitoes, but I wouldn’t have been anywhere else. “It must be nice having your dad on this trip,” Pastor Carl said after a while, glancing over at me. I snorted. “If by ‘nice’ you mean ‘annoying.’” “I’m sure it’s tough for him, you going off to college so soon.” I frowned. “It’s more than that. He’s too… protective, you know? Like he doesn’t want me to have a life, let alone a boyfriend.” He raised an eyebrow, glancing sideways at me. “Why do you think that?” I shrugged. “I don’t know. He just has a habit of getting up in my business, let’s say.” We walked a little further, the air thick with humidity. Pastor Carl had his hands tucked behind his back, his shoulders flexing. They were covered in a thin sheen of sweat. God, I wanted to lick it off him so bad. “So,” he said, his voice dropping slightly. “I know you said you don’t have a boyfriend, but do you have anyone special in your life right now?” I shook my head. “Really?” he said, his tone surprised. “A good-looking guy like you… I figure you’d have your pick of admirers.” I felt my cheeks heat up. “I guess. I don’t know, boys are complicated.” Pastor Carl chuckled, his eyes never leaving me. “Yes, they are. Mind if I ask? What kind of guys do you like?” I stopped walking. My throat tightened, but I met his gaze, my voice soft. “Lots of kinds. I’ve always liked a man’s man, you know? Someone with muscles… someone strong.” His smile was lazy, almost teasing. “Yeah? You like the athletic type?” I nodded. “Guys like Elijah?” His tone was teasing, but there was a sharpness to it as well. “No, no not at all,” I said firmly. “You too seem to be getting close,” he said. “I wouldn’t blame you for-” “I like older guys,” I said quickly. His eyes lit up. “Really?” I nodded. “I mean, not that I’ve ever… I mean…” He laughed. “I know what you mean.” He was silent for a moment, then said, “What about tattoos? You like a guy with ink?” I felt a stirring in my shorts. He was still smiling casually at me. The tension between us was thicker than the humidity, and I couldn’t tell if this conversation was innocent anymore–or if we’d already crossed the line. “Yeah,” I said quietly. “How about foreskin?” I nearly tripped over a log at that point. We were definitely past the line now. Pastor Carl laughed and put a hand out to steady me. “I only ask because when I was your age, guys used to make fun of me for being uncut. I was just curious if things had changed.” My eyes flitted down to his package. I could see a faint outline under his basketball shorts. My mouth watered so much I had to swallow. “Yeah, I mean, I love… foreskin.” He smiled. “Nice. I used to be embarrassed about it, but the ladies tend to dig it. Good to know it’s the same for guys.” “You mean, your wife, or…?” I asked slowly. “Nah, she’s not about it. I had some girlfriends before her though…” He grinned. “Let’s just say I was kind of a wild teenager before I met her. Don’t get me wrong–she’s great, really. But we’ve been together a long time. You know how it gets.” “That’s a shame.” He sighed. “Married life is a blessing, for sure. Still, sometimes I miss the excitement of it all, you know? That feeling when you pull it out and she’s just… wild for it.” I felt dizzy. Before I could say anything, Pastor Carl clapped me on the shoulder. “Speaking of which, I gotta take a leak. Give me a sec, bud.” He took a few steps away from me and stopped in front of a tree. A few seconds later I heard the sound of water hitting the ground. His back looked so broad facing away from me, his head tilted back slightly as he pissed. “Hmmm…” He moaned slightly, closing his eyes as his face went slack. If this wasn’t an invitation to take a peek, I didn’t know what the fuck was. I wavered for a moment before my curiosity got the better of me. I crept toward him and angled my head to sneak a peek. His cock was long and thin, the piss shooting out from hooded, droopy foreskin. My jaw dropped as I took in the sight of it. His pubes were trimmed short so that only a thin layer of hair covered the area over his cock. He gave it a couple of shakes, causing droplets of piss to fling everywhere as his cock flopped about. I stared transfixed, salivating at the sight of his manhood. I took a mental snapshot for my spank bank and leaned backward, just in time for him to finish pissing and open his eyes. His basketball shorts thwacked against his stomach as he tucked himself back in. “Well, shall we?” When we got back to the house, my dad was standing there with his arms crossed. “There you are, Leo,” he said sternly. “I was beginning to get worried.” “That’s my fault, Jud.” Pastor Carl clasped his palms together and bowed his head slightly. “I was just giving Leo here a little spiritual guidance.” Dad grunted. I didn’t like the look on his face–did he know about me and the pastor? If he was suspicious, all my efforts would be for nothing. I would have to double my efforts with Elijah going forward. We spent the second part of the day painting the woman’s upstairs bathroom. I snagged a seat next to Elijah on the ride home, but my thoughts were consumed by Pastor Carl. Now that I was almost certain he was down to clown, all I needed was to find a way to get him alone. But how? We were surrounded by other people, and there was only so long we could be off by ourselves before someone (my dad) would get suspicious. The only real opportunity would be the camping trip when we would all be sharing tents in partners of two. If I could only find a way to be paired with the pastor… “Leo?” I turned to see Elijah staring at me expectantly. I smiled apologetically. “Sorry, what did you say?” Elijah looked around cautiously, then said in a low voice, “What’s it like… being gay?” I shrugged. “It’s fine. Kind of boring and men generally suck. How’s being straight?” Elijah didn’t have a response to that. He blushed and sat back in his seat. “I was… I mean, I just thought… I’ve never met a gay person before,” he said quietly. “Well, now you have,” I said dismissively. “They’re all exactly like me, so get used to it.” I stared at my dad and Pastor Carl, who were sitting next to each other in the front of the van. They were in the middle of a conversation and my dad was laughing loudly. “How did you know you were gay?” Elijah asked hesitantly. I watched my dad carefully. “I don’t know. The usual. I looked at guys and thought about fucking them.” I frowned as Dad let out another belly laugh. He was never this chummy with Pastor Carl back home–what was he playing at? “But how did you know it wasn’t just a phase?” asked Elijah. I sighed. “I suppose after a couple of years of jerking off to Randy Blue I figured it wasn’t a fluke. Plus I made out with Sebastian Smith freshman year and would have gone further if his mother wasn’t so damn punctual.” I saw Dad put his hand on Pastor Carl’s shoulder and squeeze it affectionally. I felt the heat rise under my skin. “What was that like?” Elijah asked, eyes wide. “Jesus, what’s up with the third degree?” I snapped. “You like Jesus, I like gay sex. It’s not that complicated.” I sat back in my chair, pulling out my headphones and trying to drown out my father’s boisterous laugh. Elijah was quiet for the rest of the ride back. As we climbed out of the van, I spotted Pastor Carl and my dad slipping off toward the church entrance. I was about to follow when I felt a sudden, firm grip on my shoulder. “Leo, you’re just the boy I was looking for.” Elijah’s mom looked at me with a grim smile on her face. “You’re on kitchen duty tonight. We’re making sloppy Joe’s.” I looked back towards where my father and the pastor had been, but they’d disappeared. “Could I just–” “No no, I need you now,” she said sternly. “Follow me.” Elijah appeared at my side, his eyes round and innocent. “Do you need any help?” “No,” snapped his mother. “You can clean out the paint brushes from earlier. I need Leo focused on the kitchen. ” Elijah looked at me for a moment, dejected, then headed back to the van to grab the paint supplies. Inside, Mrs. Turnbright handed me a chopping board and some onions, watching me like a hawk as I sliced through them. “I don’t know what kind of discipline you’re used to from that father of yours, but in my kitchen, we keep things neat,” she said, flicking a stray onion peel off the counter. “Cleanliness is next to godliness, and I won’t have the likes of you soiling this church kitchen.” I rolled my eyes. With such a cockblock of a mom, it was no wonder Elijah was so messed up. When I finally escaped the kitchen and made my way into the fellowship hall, I spotted Dad and Pastor Carl coming back inside. “Dad!” I called out, crossing my arms. “Where have you been?” “Oh, just catching up with my good friend Pastor Carl.” He rubbed my shoulder, his thick fingers kneading my skin. “What’s for dinner? Smells good.” He walked past me toward the table as Pastor Carl took a seat at the other end. He didn’t look like he’d just had the living daylights fucked out of him, but I couldn’t know for certain. If Dad ruined this for me, I swear to God… After dinner, we all gathered together to watch a movie in the parlor. A bunch of couches sat sprawled out across the room, with a few cushioned chairs peppered in between. While my dad got the TV set up, I squeezed my way in between Elijah and Pastor Carl on the couch. “Dinner was excellent,” said Pastor Carl, flashing me that lazy, sexy smile. “Thanks,” I said, my cheeks getting warm. “Yeah Leo, I thought it was awesome,” Elijah said, grinning. “Uh-huh,” I muttered. “All right,” Dad announced. “Movie night’s on. This one’s a classic!” I stifled a groan as black-and-white scenes flickered onto the screen. I was just about to recede into myself for the next hour and a half when Pastor Carl shifted closer and said, “I’m kind of cold. Want me to grab a blanket?” It took me a second to realize what he was suggesting. I grinned. “I would love that.” He grabbed a blanket from the closet and sat back down, draping it over the two of us. I snuggled into it, tucking my legs under the covers. After a moment, I felt Pastor Carl’s knee leaning up against mine. I turned to look at him, but his eyes were fixated on the screen. Testing the waters, I nudged my leg against his, feeling the rough hairs of his calf brushing against my smooth skin. I snuck a glance at Dad across the room, relieved to see him engrossed in the movie. Inching closer under the blanket, I let my hand rest on Pastor Carl’s leg. It was warm and hairy, and I slowly rubbed back and forth against his thigh. Suddenly I felt his hand gripping mine tightly. I looked at his face, panicked, but he stared ahead completely calm. He slowly slid my hand up the leg of his basketball shorts, guiding me closer to the promised land. Holy shit! This was finally happening! I felt the hairs on his leg grow coarser the closer they got to his cock. My heart was pounding in my chest as I felt up the pastor, only a thin blanket shielding us from sight. I slid my hand up further up his leg, expecting to run into some cotton briefs or boxers, when I brushed up against something warm and spongy. Was that his dick? Was he going commando? I risked a quick glance at his face, but he was completely expressionless. Slipping my hand further inside, I wrapped my fingers around his cock and squeezed. This made him take a deep breath in, although he played it off like it was nothing. I stroked him softly underneath the blanket, careful not to move too quickly or conspicuously. I could feel him growing harder in my hand, his cock lengthening until it reached halfway toward his knee. His foreskin was warm and loose in my hand. I remembered how delicious it had looked on our walk, hanging low with piss dribbling out of it. God, what I would have given to lean over and put it in my mouth. I pulled it back, unsheathing the head of his cock. He let out a low moan, which he quickly passed off as a cough. “Do that again,” he said under his breath. I loosened my grip on his foreskin, then pulled it back to expose his cock once more. He shifted slightly in his seat, but I could tell he was suppressing some pretty stellar moans. Emboldened, I started stroking him a little faster. I couldn’t believe I was actually jerking off my pastor–and in the middle of a room of churchgoers, no less! I looked around, but everyone was staring at the television, not paying us the least of mind. Everyone, that is, but my father. He was squinting at me, his eyebrow raised slightly in suspicion. I froze in shock, quickly letting go of the pastor’s cock. Had he seen me? Did he know? If I got caught, I could kiss my fling with the pastor goodbye. But then, as if handed down on a platter from God, a miracle happened. “I’m feeling a little chilly too,” Elijah whispered in my ear. “Mind if I share the blanket, Leo?” I smiled. “Of course!” I said sweetly. He grabbed the edge of the blanket and pulled it over himself so that the three of us were all covered. My dad was still watching me as I rested my hand on Elijah’s leg. Elijah turned and looked at me. “What… what are you doing?” I shrugged. “Just trying to get comfortable. You don’t mind, right?” “N-no…” he said softly. I sat there for a moment, my left hand resting on the pastor’s leg while my right hand rested on Elijah’s. I could feel my dad’s eyes on me, but I stared straight ahead at the television, unfazed. After a moment, I slid my hands a little higher up each of their legs. I could hear Elijah do a sharp intake of breath, but he said nothing. I kept my hands moving slowly, inch by inch, until finally my left hand was touching the pastor’s balls and my right was touching Elijah’s cotton boxer briefs. Elijah shot me a look, his eyes bulging in fear. I could feel that he had a giant hard-on in his underwear–interesting. Perhaps he was gay after all? Or perhaps I was just that good at handjobs (never underestimate your own strength!). In any event, my dad was still staring at me, so I slid my hand underneath his boxer briefs and pulled out his cock. Elijah let out a light whimper, but other than that he kept it together. I never felt more powerful as I gripped the two cocks in my hands. Why else would God give me two hands unless he wanted me to jerk off two men at the same time? Unnatural desire my ass. I stroked Pastor Carl and Elijah slowly but deliberately, savoring the feeling of their warm, hard cocks. I kept my strokes with Pastor Carl slow and subtle while not bothering to hide what I was doing to Elijah. How else would I throw my father off the scent? I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, and I could see him staring at the moving blanket over Elijah’s crotch. I stroked the two men faster, eager to get them off in front of my father. After the men he’d seduced out from underneath me, it felt like poetic justice to pleasure two men without him being able to do a thing about it. Both Pastor Carl and Elijah were breathing heavily, although Elijah wasn’t as able to mask it as well as Pastor Carl. After a few minutes, my fingers were slick with precum and Elijah was leaning back into the seat, his eyes closed and his brow furrowed in a mixture of pleasure and anxiety. I took a moment to explore the difference between their cocks. Pastor Carl was long and thin, his foreskin making it easier to stroke a load out of him. Elijah was circumcised but thick, and I could feel his bushy pubes with every stroke. I felt like a gay milkmaid, milking my two men to completion until they gave me their creamy white loads. I could feel they were about to cum a second before they did. A ripple of tension ran through each of their cocks, then I felt wetness dripping through my fingers. I had brought them off together, at the same time! What a talent. I should go on the X-Factor, I really should. I gave both cocks a tight squeeze, milking the last dribbles of cum out of each of them. Dad was still staring at me, and he looked like he was steaming. I pulled my right hand out from underneath the blanket. It was sticky with cum. Looking my dad in the eye, I gave my palm a lick. To his credit, Dad didn’t look away as I cleaned Elijah’s cum off my hand. I would have gladly eaten Pastor Carl’s cum too, but then that would have defeated the purpose. Instead, I discreetly wiped my left hand on the inside of the blanket and curled up against Elijah. “Wow,” he said breathlessly. “I know,” I whispered. I gave my dad one final wink, then settled in to watch the rest of the movie. The next few days, Elijah and I didn’t get a second alone together. Dad was on him like a fly, sitting next to him at breakfast, riding with him in the van, asking for his help in the kitchen preparing dinner. That was just fine by me–it gave me plenty of time to schmooze up to Pastor Carl. He didn’t let on about what happened at movie night, which was fine with me. I liked this game we were playing–the secrecy was half the fun. Plus I was pretty sure I would seal the deal that weekend during the camping trip. Everybody shared a tent with one other person: boys with boys, girls with girls. As the male chaperone, my father would share a tent with Pastor Carl, while Mrs. Turnbright would stay in a tent on her own. I was to be paired with Elijah, but I was more than confident that my father would find a way to intervene. We left shortly after breakfast on Friday, making the long drive out to Lake Laurie. I spent the drive sitting next to Elijah, making sure to laugh loudly enough for my father to hear and to touch his arm plenty of times. Elijah’s face got pretty red during the drive, not really sure what that was all about. Maybe rosacea or something? Anyway, by the time we got to Lake Laurie, Dad was fuming and I was horny and Elijah looked like a nervous cat. “So, where do you want to set up our tent?” he asked me once we’d pulled our bags out of the van. “There’s been a change of plans,” said my Dad. He pulled a handle of vodka out of the car and looked at us sternly. “I found this in the trunk. Must have rolled out of one of y’alls bags.” “It’s not mine, sir!” said Elijah, wide-eyed. “No way to know whose it is for sure, son,” said Dad. “But I don’t trust either of you not to get into any mischief tonight. The only thing to do is split you up, keep a better eye on you.” “Ugh, that’s so not fair, Dad!” I said, sounding as whiny as I could. “Nothing to be done for it,” said Dad. “Elijah, you’ll be with me tonight. Leo, you’re with Pastor Carl.” My face didn’t betray a hint of a smile. It was like shooting fish in a barrel, honestly. I put my hand on Elijah’s cheek and rubbed it with my thumb. “Oh well. Another time, I guess.” Elijah looked at me forlornly, then grabbed his bag and followed my dad toward the campsite. Pastor Carl shut the van door and walked up beside me. “Don’t suppose you had anything to do with that?” he asked. I pretended to look offended. “I would never! I’m devastated–I was planning on sealing the deal tonight. Guess I’ll have to go to bed unsatisfied…” I walked past him toward the campground, swaying my ass slightly. I didn’t need to look back to know he was staring after me. We spent the late afternoon swimming in the lake. I was the only one who thought to pack a Speedo, a skimpy and tan-colored little number that made it look like I was naked from far away. I wanted to wear my mesh thong swimsuit, but Dad talked me out of it. All the other boys were wearing boring old board shorts that went down to the knees, although Pastor Carl at least wore ones with a five-inch inseam. He kept his shirt on at first, talking to my dad and Mrs. Turnbright by the edge of the lake while the rest of us swam. I kept peeking over, trying to see if he was shirtless yet, when finally Todd yelled, “Yo, Pastor C! You guys coming in or what?” Pastor Carl grinned, then shucked off his shirt and ran toward the water’s edge. I’d never seen him shirtless before, and damn did it take my breath away. He had a deep tan, his torso ripped and covered in a series of fine-line tattoos. I could also see a thin layer of hair covering his chest and abs, bleached slightly from the sun. He waded into the water, then flicked a little bit of it at me and grinned when I squealed. “What was that for?” I asked. “Just wanted to get your hair wet,” he said, grinning. At that, he started to chase me, and I squealed again as I slipped away from him and swam as fast as I could in the other direction. Everyone else was doing their own thing, so no one paid us any attention as Pastor Carl and I played our little game of cat and mouse. Finally, he cornered me by the dock, grabbing my arm and pulling me in close to him. “Caught you!” he said. His hands slipped around my waist, squeezing me softly. If my lower half wasn’t underwater, my boner would have been there for the whole world to see. As it was, we were mostly shielded under the dock, so no one could really see us anyway. “Yeah?” I said peevishly. “What are you gonna do?” I grabbed the bottom of his swimsuit and pulled him a bit closer. My fingers brushed against something hard, warm, and wet. He leaned in and whispered in my ear. “Why don’t you ask me that again tonight?” I giggled and pulled his head into the crook of my neck, moaning as I felt his lips nuzzling against me. His erection was digging into my leg, and it took everything in me not to slip out of my swimsuit and bend over right then and there. Even though we were mostly shielded by the dock, my dad was still lurking around somewhere. I jerked my head around, trying to find him, but all I could see were a few of the other college kids splashing around a hundred yards away. No one was paying us any attention, not that they could have seen us behind the dock. I was about to turn back so I could finally grab a taste of his hot mouth when I saw two figures emerging from the water onto the shoreline. Squinting, I could just barely make out my dad’s burly frame lumbering onto the sand, his arm wrapped around Elijah as he tousled the boy’s red hair. “Fuck, you’re so hot,” moaned Pastor Carl. He grabbed my legs and wrapped them around his waist, then slid his hands underneath my bathing suit to squeeze my ass. I watched my father lead Elijah away from the lake. They soon slipped through the trees and were gone from sight. Where the fuck were they going? I felt the tips of Pastor Carl’s fingers brush up against my hole. He was just about to slip one inside when I unwrapped my legs from around him and pushed him backward. “One sec,” I said, turning and swimming to shore. “Where are you going?” he called after me, his voice tinged with annoyance. “I’ll be right back, I promise!” By the time I got to the shoreline, I couldn’t see my father or Elijah anywhere. Mrs. Turnbright was sitting on a beach chair, nose-deep in The Purpose Driven Life. “Excuse me,” I said. “Did you see my dad go past?” She glanced at my cute bubble butt hanging out of my speedo and scowled. “I’m not your father’s keeper.” I refrained from calling her the C-word and kept walking away from the lake. The parking lot was only a few minutes away. Maybe they went back to grab something from the car? But when I got there, there was no one around. Where could they have gone? We hadn’t set up our tents yet. The campsite was supposed to be a few minutes north of the lake, but I didn’t know exactly where. Could my father be doing what I thought he was doing? I couldn’t see how. Elijah was as straight and religious as they come. I mean, aside from my amazing handjob. But there’s no way he would fuck my dad! Even so, a part of me needed to know if it was true. I looked up at the sun in the sky, trying to determine which way was to the north. Let’s see… the sun rises in the west and sets in the east, so the north must be somewhere off in the opposite direction of the lake. I set off, determined to see if my suspicions were true. After about ten minutes of walking, I couldn’t find anything that looked like a campsite, let alone a path. I pressed on though, determined to catch my father in the act if I could. I walked for another ten minutes before I noticed the sun getting a little low in the sky. Wherever they were, I wasn’t going to find them by just wandering aimlessly around. Frustrated, I decided to throw in the towel and turn back. After about five minutes of walking, I suddenly realized that I had no recognition of where I was. I should have just walked through here, right? Then why did everything look so unfamiliar? I turned ninety degrees and walked for about five more minutes, trying to see if I could see anything I recognized. Nothing. Everywhere I looked was the same dense collection of trees, dried brush, and foliage. I could barely make out the sun anymore. I walked for an hour, no longer caring about the direction I was going in but determined to find my way to some semblance of civilization. Even a road I would have been grateful for! I was also painfully aware that I was wearing nothing but a Speedo, although luckily it was warm enough that I wasn’t freezing. Still, I was getting plenty scratched by the trees and branches that whipped past me. Why did being such a dumb slut have to come back and bite me in the ass? God really does save his hardest struggles for his strongest warriors. By the time night fell, I was almost delirious. “You guys!” I shouted every few seconds. “Dad! Pastor Carl! Elijah!” Nobody answered. It was just me and the sound of crickets, lost in the neverending forest. I made my way by the faint glint of the moon, hoping I didn’t die a lonely, homosexual virgin (in fucking North Carolina of all places). Finally, after what felt like an entire evening of wandering but was likely only a couple of hours, I saw a faint glow of light through the trees. I emerged onto a clearing dotted with tents. I rapped on the outside of one of them, calling out frantically, “Hello! Is anyone in there?” After a moment, the tent unzipped and Mrs. Turnbright’s ugly face peered out at me. “There you are!” she said angrily. “Where the hell have you been?” “I got lost,” I said, trying to wipe the mud off my arms. She pursed her lips. “Well, don’t expect me to help you clean up. Showers are that way. Try not to get lost again on your way, hmm?” She zipped her tent back up. I walked over to the outdoor shower and turned it on, scrubbing the mud and dirt that had caked into my skin. I didn’t have a towel with me, so I was forced to walk dripping with water until I found my tent. Pastor Carl must have set it up without me, although he’d chosen a place that was way off from everyone else. I smiled with relief. Good–he was thinking ahead. I was all scratched up and my feet were killing me, but I could do with a good dicking down after everything I’d endured. But before I could reach to unzip the tent, I heard a loud groan come from within. “Fuck… oh yeah, just like that.” My face turned white. It couldn’t be… could it? With trembling fingers, I reached for the zipper and pulled it open just a few inches. The first thing I saw was Elijah’s broad shoulders, pale and freckled. He was facing away from me, the top of his head tilted slightly backward and his eyes closed in intense concentration. My father was a few feet away from him, sitting back on his heels as he knelt on the ground. He was also shirtless, his big, hairy chest covered in a sheen of sweat. What the fuck were they doing? And why in my tent, of all places? Then I heard a loud gagging sound as my father said, “Give him a little more. That’s it, he can take it.” I unzipped the tent a little wider, my eyes growing wide as I saw Pastor Carl in between them. The man was crouched on all fours, naked as the day he was born. My father’s cock was buried balls-deep in his asshole, while Elijah’s cock was engulfed in his mouth. Every thrust of my father’s sent him further down Elijah’s cock, his nose buried in the boy’s fiery red pubes. “Oh God,” moaned Elijah. “It feels so good.” “Doesn’t it?” said Dad. “I told you, there’s nothing like a little bonding between men. It’s a tale as old as time.” “But… I mean, isn’t this… wrong?” Dad snorted. “It wasn’t wrong when you were letting my son jerk you off the other night, was it?” Elijah blushed. “I don’t… That wasn’t-” “I’m just fucking with you, boy!” My dad roared with laughter. “Look, I’m sure our heavenly Father has better things to do than worry about whose dick goes where. If Pastor Carl’s mouth wasn’t full of cock, he would agree with me.” I could see Pastor Carl’s eyes, dull with lust and pleasure. He grabbed Elijah’s ass and pulled him closer, taking his cock deeper into his throat. “Oh, shit,” moaned Elijah. For as much as I pride myself on being a slut, Pastor Carl had me beat by a mile. He was arching his back like he took cock for a living, meeting my father’s thrusts with vigor. The way he bobbed his head on Elijah’s cock, slurping and sucking like his life depended on it, made me think that this was hardly his first time being used by men. “If you’re going to watch, you might as well come in,” said my father suddenly. My stomach dropped. Had he seen me? Was it too late for me to run away? No, the jig was up. I unzipped the tent and stepped inside, zipping it closed behind me. Elijah turned his head, his ass cheeks clenching as he spotted me. “Leo! What… what are you doing here?” I folded my arms petulantly. “Last I checked this was my tent, Elijah. What the hell are you guys doing?” Dad spanked Pastor Carl, then pulled the man’s arms back like the reigns of a horse, yanking him away from Elijah’s cock. “What’s it look like, son?” Pastor Carl didn’t even seem to acknowledge my presence. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, his hard cock swinging back and forth as my father pummeled his asshole. “Fuck me, sir,” he moaned, his words slurring with lust. “I can’t believe you’re doing this to me again!” I whined. “How did you even know about us?” Dad grabbed the Pastor by the hips and picked up the pace of his thrusts, battering the man’s colon and eliciting a long, low moan. “You’re not as slick as you think you are, son.” Dad smirked. “Your little flirtation on the bus? Long walks, just the two of you? Jerking him off under that blanket? Come on–give me at least a little credit.” “But what about Elijah?” I asked, gesturing to the college boy who was watching my father fuck Pastor Carl in something approaching religious awe. Dad laughed. “Elijah here’s just a little curious. Since you barely gave him the time of day, outside of fake flirting and handjobs, I told him to come by Pastor Carl’s tent and see what kind of fun two men can get up to together.” Elijah was staring at Pastor Carl’s dick, his mouth hanging open slightly. “Sir,” he said slowly, “do you think I could…” “Go on, speak up, boy,” said Dad. Elijah swallowed. “Can I… suck his dick?” Dad looked at Pastor Carl. The man had a dopey grin on his face, his eyes closed in bliss. “Deeper…” he murmured. “Deeper…” “I think that’s about as fine of a green light as you’re gonna get,” said Dad as he resumed his thrusts. Elijah dropped to the ground, his face sliding closer to the pastor’s swinging cock. He watched his balls swing hypnotically, eyes following them back and forth like a pendulum. He stuck his tongue out, gently lapping one of the pastor’s testicles. He grinned. “It tastes good,” he said sheepishly. As I watched Elijah suck one of Pastor Carl’s balls into his mouth, it struck me that I should be the one with the pastor’s genitals in my mouth. Me, not Elijah! Yet here I was, once again being cuckolded by my own father, not to mention the boy next door. Resigned, I sat back against the tent, pulled my cock out of my Speedo, and watched the show unfold. Elijah took the head of Pastor Carl’s dick into his mouth, causing the man to groan and his head to loll forward. Dad gripped Pastor Carl by the shoulders, still ramming that thick meat stick deep into the man’s bowels. I tugged on my cock in the corner, equally aroused and infuriated by the events unfolding before me. Elijah bobbed his head up and down on Pastor Carl’s cock, swirling his tongue around the man’s foreskin and grinning stupidly as he drank the man’s precum. My father watched him proudly, his eyes gleaming. After a few minutes of fellatio, he grabbed Elijah by the back of the head and pulled him in for a kiss. The boy opened his mouth and received Dad’s tongue willingly, swapping spit with my father as Pastor Carl drooled in between them. After a moment, Dad broke the kiss, then turned Elijah’s head toward Pastor Carl. I watched in astonishment as the pastor and the college boy began to make out, frenching like star-crossed lovers. When Elijah broke the kiss, the look he gave my dad was immediately understood. Without a word, Dad pulled his cock out of Pastor Carl, moving to the side to allow Elijah to take his place. Dad’s cock was wet with the pastor’s juices, still rock hard with that slight upward curve I had unfortunately become quite familiar with over these last few cucking sessions. Elijah’s cock wasn’t nearly as big as my father's, but it was just as hard and throbbing. He gripped Pastor Carl’s ass cheek with one hand, using the other to guide himself into the man’s well-used hole. Pastor Carl grunted, at which point my dad took the opportunity to shove his cock back inside the man’s mouth. Elijah had a wild grin on his face as he fucked Pastor Carl, swinging his hips back and forth with reckless abandon. Dad gave him gentle pointers as he went along, encouraging him to pull the pastor’s hair and find just the right angle to hit the man’s prostate. All the while Elijah was growing bolder and sweatier, losing his grip on the pastor’s hips as his sweat trickled down his stomach and landed on the pastor’s thick, rippling ass. “Oh my God, sir,” he said breathlessly. “It feels so… so warm and wet and… fuck!” I had never heard Elijah curse before. Then again, I had never seen him fuck someone, let alone a man, so I assumed he was well past the point of caring about trivial things such as profanity. “I’m proud of you, boy,” said my father. He grabbed Elijah by the back of the head and leaned their foreheads together, a strangely sweet moment in the midst of Eiffel Towering the local pastor. I felt a moment of sadness as I watched them share Pastor Carl. I’m proud of you, boy. I couldn’t remember the last time Dad had told me he was proud of me. Is this what he wanted? To share another man with me, to teach me how to be the kind of top he was? Or maybe he didn’t want me there at all. Maybe he’d rather have Elijah as a son, the perfect, All-American boy. Before I could ponder it any further, Elijah let out a long groan. “Oh God, sir. I think… I’m gonna… oh, fuck!” His eyes grew wide as he pumped his seed deep inside Pastor Carl. Dad pulled his cock out of the pastor’s mouth and started stroking it rapidly, grinning. “That’s it, boy. Fill ‘im up!” Elijah was shaking as his seed drained out of him. Pastor Carl barely seemed to notice, staring up at my father’s big cock with a look of complete wonder. Dad was jerking it an inch from the pastor’s face, and before Elijah had finished cumming, he let out a loud roar. Large gobs of semen shot out of my dad’s cock, painting the pastor’s face like melting wax. Pastor Carl opened his mouth, sticking out his tongue to taste as much semen as he could. I saw a few spurts land in his mouth, but most of it landed on his forehead, nose, and eyebrows. It dripped down his face and fell to the floor in slow, steady rivulets. Dad wiped his cock on the pastor’s face as the man greedily sucked on the tip. I could feel my own orgasm approaching. Boldly, I approached Pastor Carl, my cock pulsing in my hand. “What’s this, son?” asked my dad. “Ugh… fuck. Take that, Pastor Carl!” I shot my load into his hair, coating his thick hair in my stick seed. It dripped down his face, joining my dad’s cum. Pastor Carl kept his tongue out, lapping up the last few spurts of my seed as my orgasm slowed. Dad put a sweaty, sticky hand on my shoulder. “Well done, son. It’s good to see taking a page out of your old man’s book.” I blushed, my cheeks glowing with pride. I tucked my cock back into my speedos. “What… what now?” Dad shot a look at Pastor Carl drooling on the ground, then at Elijah, now awkward in his nakedness. “I think Pastor Carl and I have a few more things we want to show your friend here. Why don’t you go ahead and take my tent and we’ll see you in the morning?” I frowned. “But-” “Don’t talk back, now,” said Dad. I looked at Elijah, who was blushing as if he didn’t just plow the shit out of a man twice his age right in front of me. Pastor Carl had been used and soiled so thoroughly that I knew I had even less chance of getting fucked by him than his poor wife did. Dejected, I turned to leave. “Oh,” said Dad as I reached the tent flap. “And don’t tell your mother.”

Cucked By My Dad Chapter 02 Dad seduces the quarterback! If I don’t lose my virginity soon, I think I’m going to lose my mind. Graduation is just around the corner, and I’m the only one of my friends who hasn’t punched his V-card! It’s not for lack of trying, of course. I bat my eyes at the cute boys at school and flirt with strange men on the Internet all the time, but for whatever reason, I’ve yet to seal the deal for real. The closest I got was with my first real boyfriend, this hot guy named Kevin. But then my dad had to swoop in and fuck him instead! It’s so frustrating. Everyone says my dad’s hot, and manly, and his dick is pretty big, but don’t I deserve love? I like to think so. In any event, I’ve learned my lesson–don’t let guys anywhere near my father. I never know what he’s going to do! He claimed he fucked Kevin to try and help me, but I don’t know if I buy all that. It’s not like I need my first time to be anything special. I just want a dick in my ass, for crying out loud! That brings me to my current mark, uh, I mean, guy. His name is Brock, and he’s so fucking gorgeous. He’s the quarterback of the football team, a real meathead with a thick neck and a head full of rocks. Just my type! He’s never been particularly nice to me–in fact, he actively bullied me all through junior high. But ever since I came out last year he’s been okay to me, and the last few weeks he’s been downright nice! Whereas he used to bump into me in the hallway and leave me with a bruised shoulder, pretty soon he started just ignoring me, which I counted as a major win. But last month, everything changed. I was walking to AP Chem when I passed him in the hallway. He was wearing his football jersey, his long blonde hair all sweaty from P.E. (it was the only class he wasn’t currently failing). I was ogling him out of the corner of my eye–secretly picturing whether he was cut or uncut like I always do–when suddenly he turned and nodded at me! Let’s just say, for him, that was a lot. I turned to my closest girlfriend, a short, chubby little girl named Gibby, and squealed. “Did you see that?” “He’s in love with you,” she agreed, her eyes wide and desperate. The next day, on my way to lunch, he did it again. But this time, he even smiled at me, too! I started to cherish these little moments of attention. I normally dressed relatively slutty (I had a virginity to lose, after all) but I started dressing even more outrageously. Thin tank tops that showed off my slender arms and smooth, pale skin. Ass-hugging shorts that were at least a size too small in order to show off my greatest asset. And cute, beach-ready little flip-flops so I could show off my pedicured feet and painted toenails. I was downright fuckable, and Brock definitely seemed to notice. I was heading to my locker one afternoon after school when Brock grabbed me by the shirt and pulled me into an empty classroom. “You’re looking pretty faggy, Leo,” he said, his voice low and stupid. “Oh, am I?” I asked, batting my eyes. “You really like showing off, don’t you?” He eyed my bare legs, which I’d spent an hour before school putting lotion on. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Brock,” I said innocently. “I just like to dress comfortable.” “I heard faggy guys like you like to suck cock,” he said matter-of-factly. He grabbed my tank top and pulled me in closer, exposing my right nipple. He looked down at it and smirked. “So do you?” I smiled sweetly. “Well, if you ask nice.” He pulled the string of his joggers to undo his pants. The head of his dick poked through the light grey material, eager to be released into my mouth. I got down on my knees and grasped the waistband of his joggers, pulling them slowly down. A patch of neatly trimmed, dirty blonde pubic hair peeked out from underneath his compression shorts. His cock was thick and long, and it seemed to go on forever as he pulled his underwear down. Finally, the head of his dick came swinging upward, freed from the confines of its cotton prison. I salivated at the sight of it–cut, meaty, lightly curved at the end. “Put your mouth on it,” he said, his voice husky. I needed no further instruction. I stuck my tongue out, lightly grazing the underside of his cockhead. The bitter, salty taste of his precum was like nectar on my tongue. He let out a low groan, gripping my curly brown hair with his thick fingers. I opened my mouth and took him inside, reveling in the taste of my very first cock. Fuck, blowing my dildo at home did not do this justice. His cock was warm and pulsing with life, oozing its stickiness into my hungry mouth. I took him deeper inside me, determined to show him that gay guys really were good cocksuckers. His fingers gently squeezed my curls as he slowly started humping into my mouth. I was blowing him about halfway by now, his cock sliding past my tongue and hitting the back of my throat at a regular rhythm. I tried to ignore my gag reflex, focusing instead on bringing the most amount of pleasure to the football stud in front of me. I grabbed his meaty thighs, holding onto him to steady myself as I tried to relax my throat. The feeling of his muscular, hairy legs made me leak, and at the same time, allowed me to open my throat enough to take him even deeper. “Fuck, you’re such a good cocksucker,” he moaned. “Suck my dick, faggot.” He was now almost balls-deep inside my throat. I looked up at him, his pubic hair crowding my line of sight with every thrust. He wasn’t looking at me, naturally (probably imagining some blonde bimbo like Haiyleigh from AP Bio) but that didn’t really concern me. I was just happy to be of service! I’d barely had so much as a kiss, let alone a dick to suck and slurp and go to town on. If I played my cards right, I might even get him to pork me before he went off to UF on that football scholarship. He was facefucking me now, his hands gripping the sides of my head as he threw his head back and groaned. I kept my eyes open and my throat relaxed, marveling at how dumb and sexy he looked. He was grinning like an idiot, the right half of his upper lip curled in a smile as he threw back his head and gave into pleasure. Guys like Brock would never cure cancer, but damn did they know how to empty their nuts. Lucky for him I was programmed to receive. I watched a wave of emotion go over his face as his breathing grew short and ragged. He squinted his eyes in a look of intense concentration like he was trying to remember the square root of four. Then his face went slack and his jaw dropped open as he let out a short gasp. “Oh, fuck,” he said. His cock pulsed against my tongue. A boy was cumming in my mouth, finally! I felt glamorous and classy, like Princess Diana. The warm, bitter liquid splashed against the back of my throat, burning slightly as it went down my esophagus. I swallowed as fast as I could, eager to impress him with my commitment to service. His cock twitched with every shot of cum, eliciting short little moans and whimpers from him as a satisfied smile crept across his face. I did that. I made him smile with my superior cocksucking skills and soft, silky mouth. Take that, Dad! He pulled his cock out of my mouth, wet and already at half-mast. He sniffed, itching his nose as he tucked his cock back in his joggers. There was a loud SMACK as the fabric of his waistband slapped across his belly. “That was dope,” he said in what I thought was a bit of an understatement. I wiped a little bit of semen off my lips and nodded bashfully. “Anytime, Brock.” Well, he sure did take that to heart. Barely two days went by after that without Brock pulling me into some empty classroom or janitor’s closet for a quick blowie. Most of the time he just shoved me to my knees and let his dick flop out onto my face, although sometimes he let me reach in and pull it out myself. I loved the feeling of his cock in my hand, the first real-live dick I’d ever touched besides my own. I made it my mission to learn what he liked–no talking, extra suction on the head, a quick tug on his balls when he was about to cum. Sometimes he would even flex for me while I blew him, which really got me hot. Staring up at his hot, sculpted muscles and the stupid smile on his face was almost enough to make me squirt hands-free. He even convinced me to join the football team as a waterboy, “just to have that pretty mouth nearby” (blush). I didn’t know the first thing about football, but luckily all I had to do was mix Gatorade powder into a jug and hand out cups to sweaty jocks during practice. I could practically smell the testosterone and don’t even get me STARTED about the locker room. It was like every gay boy’s dream: bare asses, swingin’ dicks, and uninhibited masculinity, all with a healthy undertone of homophobia. Then, once the rest of the guys headed home after practice, Brock would meet me in the showers, his muscles swollen and cock begging for relief. It was like I had died and gone to gay heaven. But no matter how much I tried to move the conversation toward him putting that big, beautiful dick in my pretty little pussy, things never went beyond oral. Brock made it clear that he had no interest in blowing me, which was fine. I mean, a little ass-eating would have been appreciated, but I can respect some guys aren’t into that. But what was driving me crazy was him not wanting to fuck me! Oral sex was nice and all, but in the gay world, it was essentially a handshake. I needed a dick in my ass if I wanted to properly obliterate my virginity. (I guess I could also top somebody, but I had little to no interest in that–I know what I was put on this earth to do, and it was not to hammer away at some twink like I’m Woody Woodpecker). The first time I tried to bring up anal, he seemed totally lost. “What do you mean, fuck you?” he asked, his face screwed up in confusion. His cock was hanging out of his joggers, wet and hard mid-blowjob. I batted my eyes. “You know, maybe you can put it in me some time.” He looked at his cock, then at me. “But I am putting it in you.” I stifled a sigh. Bless his heart. I smiled coquettishly, stroking his cock as I said, “Yeah, but like, you could also put it in my pussy.” This really confused him. “But you’re a dude. You got a dick.” This time I did sigh. “Yes, I’m aware. I also have an asshole. You know, a tight, wet hole perfect for fucking?” He scrunched up his forehead, the wheels in his head straining to turn. I jerked him off expectantly, waiting eagerly for the all-clear. Finally, he pursed his lips. “Nah.” He grabbed the back of my head and shoved his cock back into my mouth. “This is good.” I tried to talk up anal over our next few sessions, but it didn’t seem to go anywhere. He was already getting pussy from the girls at school, he said, and the thought of fucking a guy up the ass seemed a little gay. With graduation coming up, I knew my time was running out to seal the deal. But it wasn’t until I was chilling on the couch browsing Snapchat one Saturday night that the idea came to me. Brock had posted a story of him and a few of his dumb friends at some frat party at the nearby college. He had a red solo cup in his hand and seemed to be quite a few beers in. “If you’re a hot chick and you’re seeing this, send tit pics,” he slurred into the camera. I had no doubt that at least a dozen women would take him up on that. But suddenly it occurred to me–why not me? “Everything all right, son?” I looked up to see my dad staring at me. He was lounging on the sofa chair, a beer in one hand and the TV remote in the other. Tonight was family movie night and we were knee-deep in the middle of Magic Mike. I put my phone in my pocket and leaped to my feet. “Just gotta use the bathroom.” I ran up to my bedroom and locked the door behind me, then opened up my dresser. I tore through briefs and jockstraps until I found it: that white lace thong I’d ordered from Temu. I slipped out of my clothes and pulled it on, wedging the fabric between my buttcheeks and sliding on a loose pair of sweat shorts to cover it. I turned off all the lights except for my bedside lamp and kneeled in front of the full-length mirror beside my bed (best birthday present I ever got). I held my phone out at arm’s length, playing around with the angles until I got the perfect shot. My shorts were slipping just a little bit down my ass, revealing the top curves of my ass and just a hint of the thong slipping into my crack. I arched my back to perfection and snapped a shot. I had just sent it when I heard a knock at the door. “Son? Are you in there?” “I’ll be right out!” I called as I pulled my shirt back on. “Hurry up. Mike’s about to give a lap dance and your mother’s getting restless.” I kept one eye on my Snapchat for the rest of the night, only half-paying attention to the movie as I waited for Brock’s response. Mom passed out on the couch about halfway through the film, drunk on Chardonnay. As the end credits rolled and I saw there was still no response from Brock, my heart began to sink. “Goddamnit, Tatum, you did it again,” my dad said approvingly. He stood up, clapped me on the shoulder, and kissed me on the head. “Good night, son. Don’t stay up too late, we’ve got church in the morning.” I took a shower and was about to crawl into bed when my phone dinged. “Hot. Got any more pics?” It was a selfie of Brock. He was in the back of a car now, his shirt pulled up and hanging from his teeth as he flashed his stomach and a bit of his pubes. I sat up at full attention, all weariness gone. I went back and forth between poses until I landed on one that I thought telegraphed what I wanted pretty well: a photo of my finger hooked around the thong, yanking it to the side to reveal just a glimpse of my hole underneath. No caption necessary. Barely a minute passed before my phone began to ring. I picked it up immediately, my heart racing. “Hello?” “That was hella hot,” said a deep voice on the other end. I smiled, laying on my stomach and twirling an imaginary phone cord. “Thanks. Thought I’d show you what you’re missing.” “You ever put anything in there?” “Sometimes.” I could hear his breathing on the other end of the phone, hot and heavy. “Like what?” “Mmm, you know. The usual stuff. My fingers, a vibrator… nothing big enough to really satisfy me, you know?” He was silent for a moment. I heard a faint squelching sound in the background. It took me a moment to realize he was stroking himself. “I could show you sometime if you want,” I said teasingly. “Maybe you could help?” The noise got faster and faster until I heard the sound of a long, low groan. Brock’s breath was heavy and panting. “Meet me after the game on Friday.” I heard the sound of the click as he hung up the phone. A smile spread slowly across my face. This was it! It was finally happening! Friday night was the school championship as our team faced off against the East High Vikings. I hadn’t really followed sports at all before joining the team as the waterboy, but apparently, we were the favorite to win. Coach was being really hard on Brock all week, so much so that he didn’t even stay after for his usual post-practice hummer. I was fine with it, though–all it meant was that much more cum spraying inside my tight little hole. The morning of the game I woke practically buzzing with anticipation. As I came downstairs for breakfast, my dad was sitting there still in his bedclothes, a t-shirt and a loose pair of tighty whities. He lowered the newspaper and looked at me with a raised eyebrow. “What are you so excited about?” he asked. “The big game is tonight.” I grabbed a waffle off the table and started nibbling at it. “Uh-huh,” he said. “I still don’t know why you joined the football team. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you’re taking after your old man. I just never thought you were into that.” I shrugged. “People change, what can I say? Football is the great American pastime and I’m just here to support the team.” He narrowed his eyes. “Hmm. Maybe I should go with you tonight.” My eyes widened. “No, really, that’s not-” “I should be there! Support my son. It’s the championship, right?” Dad set down the paper and scratched his balls. I frowned. “Yes.” “Excellent. And with your mom on that Australian walkabout for the next two weeks, it’ll be nice to get out of the house. Spend some quality time with my son.” I groaned. “Dad, I’m gonna be busy. Some of us might hang out after and I-” Dad patted me on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, boy. I won’t make a nuisance of myself. Just wanna see the game and then I’ll head on home. You can even take the car, how’s that sound?” I beamed. “Okay. Thanks!” The school day couldn’t come to an end fast enough. By the time the bell rang, I beelined straight to the field. The guys were already there stretching and getting ready for drills. “Leo! Over here,” said Coach Balz. He beckoned me over to the hydration station by the benches. “Tonight’s a very important night. I got a lot of thirsty boys and they’re all relying on you to keep them quenched. That sound like something you can do?” I gave him a salute. “Absolutely, sir.” He gave me a quick smack on the ass. “Go on, son.” Gametime was at 6, and by 5:30, the bleachers were already mostly filled. Almost the whole school had come out to see the game, and I could see Gibby squeezing herself in on the end of a row of guys who had all painted their chests to say “Vikings Suck.” She waved ecstatically at me, then pointed to her left. I looked over to see my father squeezing in beside her, wearing his tan trucker jacket and a pair of Wrigley jeans. He gave me a quick thumbs up, then turned to the guy with the V painted on his chest and began chatting him up. Soon the coach was calling us all in for our pregame huddle. Brock’s face was furrowed in concentration, the same way it did when the teachers asked him to spell something like “elephant.” The coach was going on and on about some play they were going to do and how the other team was all made up of cocksuckers who didn’t know their ass from their elbow. I just stared at Brock, trying to picture how amazing his adrenaline-heavy post-win fuck would be. As much as I’d never really cared for football, it was pretty exciting to witness a championship game from the sidelines. I cheered on the guys and handed out cups of Gatorade every time they came in from the field, swapping out used towels for fresh ones and resisting the urge to give the used ones a sniff. By the end of the third quarter, we were up by six and spirits were running high. I took a peek out into the stands, where Gibby caught my eye and gave me a quick wave. My dad was still talking to the guy with the V on his chest, his arm around the back of the bleachers as he leaned in close and said something I couldn’t hear. I could tell the guy was blushing even from here. “Leo! Keep your head in the game and hand me those towels,” growled the coach. The last quarter was particularly brutal. The guys kept making one mistake after the other, and pretty soon our places had switched and now we were the ones down by six. Brock took off his helmet and threw it on the ground, letting out a roar that was equal parts scary and sexy. “Listen you sons of bitches,” yelled Coach Balz. “We’ve only got three minutes on the clock. Now I know you cocksuckers can win this if you goddamn try, you hear me? Let’s do this!” They went back on the field after the timeout and took their positions. My eyes stayed on Brock, who was concentrating so hard he looked like he had been asked to spell something tough like “electricity.” As soon as the ball got into the hands of the center, he snapped the ball back to Brock, who took off running. I joined the other fans in cheering him on, watching as he ducked and weaved through the other players to get to the endzone. I was standing close to the sidelines, eager to witness Brock’s brilliant, game-winning touchdown from as close as possible. As he dodged another tackle, my eyes caught on my father in the stands. He had his arm around the shirtless guy now and seemed to be whispering something in his ear. The guy giggled, then put his hand on my dad’s leg. “Leo, watch out!” The sound of Coach’s voice snapped me out of it. I looked up just at that moment to see Brock careening toward me, dodging the player who was currently charging at him full-on. Before I could dive out of the way, Brock crashed into me, pummeling me to the ground. Then everything went dark. The first thing I noticed was a pounding in my head. I lifted my hand to my head and groaned, making a rustling sound as I moved. I was lying on some kind of crinkly paper that felt like the kind you saw at a doctor’s office. When I opened my eyes, I saw that I was in the infirmary at the school. My father stood by the door, his face red with anger. “What the hell were you thinking?” he shouted. “That is my son, goddamnit!” I could see Brock sitting in a chair next to him, his eyes cast downward. He had taken off his jersey and pads, sitting there in just his football pants with his helmet in his hands. His dirty blonde hair was all mussed up from the game and he was covered in dirt and sweat. “I’m sorry, sir,” he mumbled. “But I told you, he came out of nowhere. I didn’t mean to-” “I don’t give a damn what you did or didn’t mean to do,” said my dad. “My son is fragile. He’s not like you, he can’t take all this rough and tumble bullshit.” Brock snorted. My dad glared at him. “You serious right now, boy?” Brock cocked his head. “I mean… Come on, sir. I think we both know what kind of boy your son is.” Dad ground his teeth. “Oh, I see how it is. You think just cause he’s a little femboy you can do whatever you want with him, do you?” Femboy? I mean, sure, I wasn’t exactly masculine, but I wouldn’t go that far. I wanted to say something in my defense, but my head still hurt, so I just lay still on the table. Brock smirked. “Look, he’s the one trying to get me to fuck him, okay? Sending me pussy pics on Snapchat, going on and on about how he wanted me to fuck his tight little hole.” My dad screwed up his face in anger. I felt a cold sweat break over me. Brock went on. “But I’m not gonna fuck him because I’m not a faggot, alright? So none of this has anything to do with me. It’s not my fault the little fairy was in the way. Shit, if you’d raised him to be more of a man, he’d probably be on the team instead of on the sidelines.” My face burned with embarrassment. I couldn’t tell how much of this was macho posturing and how much was serious. How could he say these things? I mean, was he really not gonna fuck me? After all that effort I’d put in? The gall! Dad reached for his belt buckle and popped it open. He slid his belt out from around his waist and let it smack against the wall. “What did you just say, young man?” Brock raised his hands. “Whoa man, I don’t want any trouble. Look, I said I was sorry.” Dad scoffed. “I know guys like you, Brock. Think you own the whole world just cause you got a lot of muscles and a big dick. Well, I was just like you once. And let me tell you–you don’t know fucking shit.” Brock stood up and sneered at my dad. “Really, old man? You think you’re a match for me?” He lifted his arm and flexed, his bicep like a giant rock. “Pretty sure I could take you any day.” “You wanna try me?” asked Dad. He dropped the belt on the ground and ripped off his trucker jacket, then raised his hands in a fighting position. Brock laughed. “I don’t beat up old guys.” “I think it’s time someone taught you how to respect your elders, son.” Dad grabbed Brock’s arm and yanked it behind him. Brock let out a cry of pain. “Dude, what the fuck?” He twisted out of his grip and wrapped his arms around Dad’s waist, bracing his legs wide for balance as he tried to tackle him to the ground. I lifted my head weakly, watching in awe as the two men fell to the ground, each one struggling for dominance over the other. I was still too dazed to really move, and even if I could, I wasn’t sure I wanted to stop what was playing out between the two of them. “You smug son of a bitch,” my dad grunted as he wrested his way to sitting on Brock’s legs. He tried to pin Brock’s hands to his sides but Brock slipped free, rolling to the side before charging forward and catching my dad around the chest. He had my dad pinned against the ground now, breathing heavily as he used his weight to keep Dad down. Their faces were inches away from each other and dripping with sweat. “Give it up old man,” he said, breathing heavily. “Your wrestling days are over.” Quick as a flash, Dad twisted his body, using his legs to roll them both over. Now my dad was the one on top of Brock, who had the wind knocked out of him from being slammed into the floor. Dad grabbed his arm and rolled him over, pinning him facedown on the ground. “What did you say?” he snarled in his ear. Brock struggled weakly against my father’s grip. “Argh… get off me, man!” “Not until you apologize to my son, punk.” “Fuck you, dude!” I saw a glint in my father’s eyes, the same one I used to see when I was younger and I did something to really piss him off. With one hand still holding Brock’s arms in place, my father used the other to grab the waistband of Brock’s football pants. Brock’s eyes went wide. “What the fuck are you doing?!” “I’m teaching you some respect,” said my dad as he pulled Brock’s pants down to reveal his pale, hairy ass. He was wearing one of those straight guy sports jockstraps, and his ass jiggled a little as my dad yanked the waistband of Brocke’s pants down below his cheeks. “I’m guessing your old man never gave you any discipline,” said my father as he brought one of his rough paws down on Brock’s ass cheek. “You can’t do this! You… you’re not my dad,” said Brock. Dad spanked him again on the cheek, not too hard, but just enough to let him know he meant business. “I’m giving you a valuable lesson, boy.” He brought his hand down in another spank, this time a little bit harder. “You need to respect your elders.” The next spank caused Brock to cry out. “Ow! Stop it, you old fuck!” Dad gave him a few more swats on each cheek, causing his bottom to start turning a light shade of pink. “Ow! I’m… I’m sorry, okay?” “Sorry for what?” asked my dad as he brought his hand down for another sharp spank. “Agh! Sorry for… for hurting Leo. For not being more careful.” “And?” SMACK! “Jesus, stop it! I’m sorry for calling him a faggot. He’s… just a normal gay guy.” Dad leaned down and whispered in his ear. “You know what I think?” he said softly. He slipped his hand in between Brock’s legs and grabbed his cock. I was shocked to see that Brock had a raging boner. “I think you like this, son.” Brock’s eyes went wide. “N… no I don’t.” Dad stroked him a little bit, making him whimper. “No? Well, how about this?” He let go of Brock’s cock and pulled him into his chest. He wrapped his arm around Brock’s head, burying the jock’s face deep into his armpit. “You smell that?” he said gruffly as Brock struggled against him. “That’s what a real man smells like.” Brock stopped struggling, then went limp. His hands curled around Dad’s arm as he breathed him in deeply. “Fuck yeah… you like that, don’t you?” asked my dad. Even from here, I could see the head of Brock’s dick springing out the side of his jockstrap. My dad flexed his arm, showing off his rock-hard biceps. Even for an old man with a gut, he was still built like a tank. Brock moaned, squeezing my dad’s muscles as he softly kissed his arm. “I know what boys like you need,” said Dad as he pulled off his shirt. “You think you’re hot shit but all you really want is a real man telling you what to do.” Brock kissed his way down my father’s hairy chest, his hands squeezing my father’s pecs. He took one of his nipples in his mouth and sucked on it gently, squeezing and massaging the skin as he suckled. “That’s it, boy. Show daddy how much you want it.” I was starting to get hard myself, dazed as I was. I sat up slowly, ignoring the throbbing in my head as I got a better look at the action on the ground. Brock was kissing and licking my dad’s chest, his hands roaming over Dad’s hairy torso. Dad had Brock’s cock in his hand, stroking it softly as he soaked in the boy’s admiration. I was torn between feeling absolutely livid at my father for seducing yet another conquest of mine and feeling flattered that he would go to such lengths to defend me. I debated saying something but had no idea what that would be, so I kept quiet and started rubbing myself through my shorts. Dad lifted Brock’s chin until the jock was looking him in the eyes. “Tell me what you want, boy.” Brock swallowed. “I… I don’t know…” “I do,” said Dad. He leaned in and kissed Brock on the lips, devouring the young jock’s mouth with wet kisses. Brock moaned, going limp as a rag doll in my father’s arms. “I know exactly what you want,” Dad said in between kisses. “You want daddy to be proud of you… to think you’re a big man… to see your big muscles… and your brute strength… and tell you what a good boy you are…” Each phrase was punctuated with another wet, sloppy tongue kiss. Dad slid his hand down Brock’s back to the cleft above his cheeks, slipping his fingers into Brock’s crack. Brock moaned as Dad’s middle finger, rough and calloused, brushed up against his hole. “You don’t need to pretend anymore,” Dad said. He nipped Brock’s ear, then whispered, “Daddy loves you just the way you are.” He slid the tip of his finger inside of Brock, causing the great big jock to cry out and grip his arm so tightly his fingers turned white. “Shhhh,” said Dad as he wiggled his finger. “Daddy’s here now. Daddy’s got you.” He pushed Brock onto his back, crouching at the jock’s feet with his finger still inside him. He pulled the jockstrap aside to release Brock’s throbbing cock, then swallowed it whole. Brock’s eyes went wide as he shouted, “Oh, fuck!” He lifted his head weakly, staring down at my father as he bobbed up and down on the football player’s cock. Unlike my blowjobs, which were generally hands-free and entirely one-sided, Dad was putting everything he had into blowing Brock. As his right hand roamed across Brock’s body, pinching his nipples and squeezing his biceps, the fingers on his left hand were hammering in and out of the jock’s tight hole. Despite (to my knowledge) never doing any form of ass-play, Brock’s asshole was taking one finger after another until Dad was three fingers deep. Brock’s face was twisted in a mixture of agony and ecstasy as who knows how many internalized masculine ideals were being steamrolled inside his brain. Dad pulled his fingers out of Brock’s hole and sucked them dry. “Fuck, boy. You taste so good.” He grinned lecherously as he unbuttoned his pants and started to pull them down until he was wearing nothing but those tighty-whities. Brock watched him nervously, his cock as hard as a nail. “Wh-what are you gonna do, Mr. Wyte?” Dad pulled his cock out of his briefs and gave it a quick tug. “Don’t ask questions you already know the answers to.” He threw Brock’s leg over his shoulder and positioned himself at the entrance of Brock’s innocence. Brock’s lip quivered slightly. “I… I’m scared.” Dad put his hand behind Brock’s head and pulled him in for a kiss. The big jock was like a trembling kitten in Dad’s hands, more soft and vulnerable than I had ever seen him. “Don’t be afraid, baby,” Dad said gently. “You want this, you know you do. Now be a good boy and let daddy in.” Brock kept his eyes locked onto Dad’s, then nodded slowly. His lips parted in a soft gasp as Dad pushed into him, eviscerating his manhood inch by inch. “That’s it, baby boy,” my father said as he sank his cock into the football player. “Doesn’t this feel right?” He slid another inch inside, his eyes gleaming as he said, “You don’t have to pretend anymore. You’re daddy’s good boy, aren’t you? You just wanna make him proud.” “UGH!” Brock grunted in surprise as Dad bottomed out inside him. “Y-yes sir,” he said softly. Dad grinned. “I’m so proud of you, son. You’re making daddy feel so good.” He began rocking his hips back and forth, slowly at first, then more forcefully as he opened up Brock’s virgin asshole. The jock’s eyes were wide, filled with fear and pleasure and hungry, hungry need. I felt a surge of jealousy as I watched my father take Brock’s virginity. It should be me on my back getting filled, not him! But Dad was obviously right–there was no denying Brock’s submissiveness, how quickly he had spread his legs for my father and given himself to another man. Yet again, he was a poor choice to take my virginity. I had been so close, too! Oh well. Now all there was to do was to sit back and enjoy the ride as my father worked his magic. Dad leaned his forehead against Brock’s, his eyes locked onto the younger man’s as he thrust into him. “You feel me?” he asked, his voice harsh and commanding. “Yes sir,” Brock said meekly. “Tell me,” he said, picking up the pace of his thrusting. “Tell me who your daddy is.” Brock’s leg flailed in the air as Dad slammed his cock in deep. “UGH! Y-you’re my daddy.” “Again,” said Dad. “You’re my daddy.” Dad pressed their chests together, cradling Brock’s head in the crook of his neck. “Louder!” “You’re my daddy!” “Scream it!” “YOU’RE! MY! DA-DDY! UGH!” Brock’s eyes rolled in the back of his head as Dad pummeled his asshole, their sweaty bodies grinding against each other. I was rubbing myself underneath my shorts, working my way to a particularly brutal orgasm. Dad clamped down on Brock’s neck, licking and sucking and biting him like an animal as he burrowed deep inside Brock’s bowels. “That’s it,” groaned Dad. “That’s it! Take my cock, boy. Take all of me. Take. My. Fucking. Seed!” He bellowed loudly, his arms wrapped tightly around Brock’s frame as he loaded him up with his cum. He was shaking, his whole body tensed and dripping with sweat as he inseminated the newly-broken jock underneath him. It was fascinating to watch, almost primal, like one of those nature shows. My father was a beast of a man, the pinnacle of virility. I was sure that if Brock had been a woman, my father’s seed would have taken root immediately. I suppose, even with my father cucking me again, I should be thankful I didn’t have to worry about any new siblings. Brock just watched my father’s face in awe, taking in every grunt and twitch as my father spilled his seed. When my dad was finished ejaculating, he laid his head down against Brock’s chest and nuzzled him gently. “So proud of you,” he murmured. “Um… sir?” Brock’s voice was tentative. Dad lifted his head. “Uh, I was wondering… could I… cum, maybe?” Dad smirked. He kissed him softly, slipping his hand behind his head to pull Brock deeper into the kiss. “Let daddy take care of you.” Without removing himself from Brock’s hole, my father sat back on his legs, pulling the jock up with him. He held the boy steadily with one hand, using the other to softly stroke Brock’s dick. He continued kissing Brock, probing the boy with his tongue as he worked his cock like a pro. He was also bucking his hips ever so slightly, stimulating the jock’s prostate as he brought him closer to the edge. I myself was within seconds of cumming, overwhelmed by the hot display of man sex in front of me. As Brock’s whimpering grew louder and his cock started to spurt jets of hot cum all over his stomach, I felt my own cock erupting inside my shorts. I kept my breathing steady, not wanting to bring attention to myself as my sticky seed seeped through my underwear and trickled down towards my hole. I said nothing as my father and Brock got dressed, pretending to sleep as they pulled their clothes back on. My father licked Brock’s seed off of his stomach, then fed it to him in a hungry kiss. I didn’t know why I didn’t say anything–perhaps I was embarrassed by it all, or perhaps I didn’t want to give my father the satisfaction of knowing I knew I had been cucked again. After a few minutes, I felt him gently shaking me. “Leo? Leo, are you awake?” I opened my eyes, then murmured, “Dad? What happened?” He put his hand on my forehead. “Hey, son. There was an accident. You fell and hit your head.” I sat up slowly. “Right… I remember.” Dad looked at Brock, then jerked his head at me. “Uh, I’m sorry, Leo,” Brock said sheepishly. “I should have been more careful.” “That’s okay,” I said. “What happened with the game? Did we win?” Brock shook his head. “We lost. By a lot.” “Oh, shit. I’m sorry.” He looked at my dad and smiled. “It’s okay. The night wasn’t a total waste.” The sexual tension between the two of them was still palpable. I tried to ignore the smell of cum in the air and the obvious bottom eyes that Brock was throwing at my father. After a moment my dad said, “Brock, why don’t you go on and give my son and me a minute? I just want to make sure he’s okay.” Brock nodded and left. As soon as he was gone, Dad handed me an aspirin and a glass of water. “I was worried about you for a second there,” he said, and I could actually hear the concern in his voice. “I’m fine, Dad,” I said. He patted my leg, then lifted his hand and looked curiously at it. I felt my stomach sink when I saw it covered in sticky clear cum. He looked down at the wet spot on my shorts and grinned. “Looks like someone wasn’t entirely asleep.” He wiped his hand on his shirt and chuckled. “I love you, son. Just do me a favor, will you?” He winked at me. “Don’t tell your mother.”

Hey guys, I have written a fair amount of erotic fiction elsewhere under the username Freckleman64. This is a story I wrote (10 chapters) that I think would be fun for this site. Lots of bareback sex and, toward the end, a bit of incest. And so, so, so much cucking. So enjoy! Cucked By My Dad Chapter 01: Dad seduces my boyfriend! My name is Leo, and I’m an 18-year-old virgin. Ugh, it feels gross just to admit that. I know what you’re thinking–plenty of people don’t lose their virginities until their late teens or early twenties. What’s the issue? But you don’t understand! I want to lose my virginity more than anything, but every time I get close to a guy, my dad swoops in and ruins everything. It’s not that I think my dad is a bad guy or anything. He’s always been a good dad: kind, caring, not afraid to show emotion or be vulnerable. He was nothing but supportive when I came out of the closet a few years ago, and in our small town, that’s not something to take for granted. He’s a great husband to my mom, too. They seem so happy sometimes it honestly makes me feel a little queasy inside. But for whatever reason, he is the world’s number one cockblock. It doesn’t help that he’s objectively fucking hot. I mean, I’m not into him, obviously–he’s my dad, for Christ’s sake! Talk about yuck. But that doesn’t mean I don’t see why other guys would be all over him. It’s not like he’s got a six-pack or anything, but he’s beefy and muscular from years of working construction. I guess he’s like a bear, kind of, since he’s pretty hairy and he’s got a crew cut and that thick mustache. It’s really furry. I’m nothing like that, sadly. I’ve always been short, and I’m about as pale and smooth as a porcelain doll. But I like to think I’m hot in my own right! I get a lot of compliments on my curly brown hair and I’ve always had a perky ass. When we’re at the beach, guys are always doing a double-take to see me in my little swim trunks. Of course, then they see my dad, and they forget all about me… Anyway, enough about him. This is about my boyfriend, Kevin. He’s so dreamy! Kevin is my first-ever boyfriend, and the story of how we got together is actually really fucking cute. We’re both seniors and until recently, I never thought I could score a hunk like him. He’s an actor, and a really fucking good one. I watched him perform in Grease for all ten runs. He was such a good Danny Zuko. He’s got that dark-haired, brooding look to him, and his scruff is so fucking sexy. I actually auditioned just to be close to him, but I didn’t make the cut (that’s neither here nor there). That didn’t stop my crush, though. He was straight, as far as I knew, but I can be persistent when I want to be so I didn’t think that would be an issue. I stayed late after his final performance even though he’d never so much as said a word to me before. But when he came out from backstage, his hair still greased back, there I was in my tightest pair of shorts clutching a bouquet of daisies. “Omigosh, you were so amazing!” I said, racing over to him before any of the other fangirls had a chance to swoop in. He did that sexy head nod thing that guys do and took the flowers from me. “Thanks.” “I hope you’re going to keep acting after high school,” I said, touching his wrist. “You’re so talented.” He gave me a humble smile. “Nah, I’m going to be a mechanic like my dad.” I gasped. “No! What a loss.” He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “Yeah, I know. I auditioned for NYU, but… I didn’t get in.” I shook my head ruefully. “They don’t know what they’re missing. But seriously, don’t give up. We need more actors like you.” He laughed a little and scratched the back of his head. “You really think so?” One of the other actors, a tall, bro-y guy named Jason, clapped him on the shoulder. “Yo, you riding with me?” “Yeah man,” said Kevin. He looked at me for a moment, then tilted his head. “Hey… we’re having a little cast party after this. You wanna come?” My heart skipped a beat. My all-time crush was not only talking to me, but inviting me to a party. Fuck yes! “Sure,” I said nonchalantly. “Rad,” said Kevin. That was how I ended up in the backseat of Jason’s mom’s Honda Accord, headed to a party with the future love of my life. Kevin and Jason sat in the front, chatting about the play and who was gonna bring beer to the party. I just sat in the back, reveling in my good luck and workshopping my plan to get in Kevin’s pants by the end of the night. The party was at some girl’s parents’ house out in the sticks. It was already in full swing when we arrived. I could hear loud bass music thumping from inside the house before I even got out of the car. The second I walked through the door, Kevin and Jason headed straight for the beer keg, leaving me all alone. No matter. I knew how to socialize just fine, and besides, I didn’t want to come on too strong with Kevin. Better to work the room a little and then make my move once I had the lay of the land. I filled a cup full of cranberry juice and vodka and sipped at it, scanning the room of actors. I spotted the guy who played Kenickie chugging a beer in the center of the room, the foam spilling all over his tanned, shirtless torso. Rizzo was in the corner gossiping with Sandy, and they were both shooting looks at Kenickie as he burped loudly and crushed the can against his forehead. A girl stood up on the coffee table and turned the music down on her phone. I recognized her as the girl who played Principal McGee, although I think her name was Rachel or something. “Okay guys,” said Rachel (?) with a slight slur in her voice. “Who wants to play Spin the Bottlleeee?” Cheers sprang out across the room. We all gathered in a circle as Rachel (actually, now I’m thinking it was Rebecca) grabbed an empty bottle of André and placed it in the middle. For a brief moment, my heart stopped as I realized that Kevin was nowhere to be seen. But he soon emerged from the back hallway, zipping his pants. “Sorry, I had to piss!” he said as he took a seat across the circle from me. I blushed. God, to be a fly on the wall in that bathroom. The game started out simply enough–Principal McGee kissed Roger, Rizzo kissed one of the stagehands, and Sandy sucked face with Kenickie (to Rizzo’s chagrin). One of the tech girls spun the bottle and landed on the girl who did costumes, which got a lot of whoops and hollers as they swapped spit for a few seconds. Then it was Kevin’s turn, and my heart was beating out of my fucking chest. “Come on bro!” said Jason as Kevin grabbed the bottle and spun. It felt like the world stopped for a moment, the sound dropping away until all that was left was Kevin, the bottle, and me. I watched it like a hawk, praying to God or Stan or whoever had the power to stop that bottle right on me. It started to slow, and for one sickening moment I thought it might land on the disgusting little gremlin next to me, but then it stopped pointing straight. At. Me. “Thank you God/Stan/whoever,” I prayed silently. I could see the redness on Kevin’s cheeks from across the room. For a moment nobody moved, and then Jason shook his head. “Nah, you gotta reroll.” I could have strangled him. “Says who?” I asked, a little too loud. Jason laughed uncomfortably. “Come on. That’s not fair. You can’t ask a guy like Kev to suck face with another dude.” “Those two did it,” I said, pointing at the (temporary) lesbians who’d spun the bottle before me. “Yeah, but that’s different,” Kenickie chimed in. “They’re like… hot.” My face was burning. This was my moment, dammit! And yet it seemed like the room was turning against me. For a second, I thought all was lost. But then Kevin got to his knees and started crawling over to me. “Dude, what are you doing?” asked Jason. I could feel my heart thumping as he edged his way closer to me. Suddenly he was on his knees in front of me, and everyone else in the room ceased to exist. “You ready?” he asked, his voice low and wavering. I nodded. He leaned in and kissed me softly on the lips. The scratch of his unshaven face brushed against my skin as he crushed his lips against mine. He tasted like bitter hops from the beer, but it turned sweet in my mouth. I closed my eyes, savoring the moment and trying to ignore the sounds of laughter and jeering that came from all around us. Finally, he broke the kiss and leaned back, looking at me like a nervous little puppy dog. “Gross,” said Jason. I glowered at him, but Kevin was already on his feet and walking away. He didn’t go back to his spot in the circle, though–he headed for the beer keg in the kitchen instead. I waited for the attention to shift to the next couple, then slipped out of the circle and joined Kevin in the kitchen. I leaned up against the bar in what I hoped was a casual manner. “Hey,” I said. He gave me a nod but kept his eyes on the beer keg as he filled his cup. “Hey,” he said gruffly. “Are you okay?” I asked. “I know that was… kind of a lot.” He drained his beer, then crushed the cup and threw it in the trash. “You wanna go somewhere and talk?” Fuck yeah, I did. “Sure,” I said breezily. I followed him up to one of the second-floor bedrooms. From the look of the decorations, it seemed to be a little girl’s bedroom. Kevin sat down on the pink princess bed and buried his head in his hands. On the nightstand sat a framed photo of a chubby little redheaded girl in a ballerina costume, grinning at me. I turned her flat on the table–she didn’t need to see this. We sat there in silence for a moment until finally, Kevin looked up at me. His eyes were red. “There’s something you should know,” he said cryptically. I instantly popped a hardon. I crossed my legs and nodded, a beacon of sympathy. “I’m here for whatever you need to tell me.” He took a deep breath, his lip quivering. This was it, the moment I’d been waiting for. Would we do it here, in the bed? In Jason’s mom’s Honda Accord? Before I could settle on a place, he looked away again, shaking his head. I stifled a sigh of impatience. I’d waited 18 years to get fucked up the ass–surely I could wait a few more seconds for him to work through whatever macho bullshit was clearly going on in his sweet, sexy brain. Suddenly he was looking at me again, and he said in a voice barely above a whisper, “I think I might be bi.” The words landed like winning lottery numbers. I wanted to cheer and scream and grab his cock through his pants. Instead, I smiled and took his hand. “Thank you for telling me,” I said. “I’ve never told anyone,” he said, his lip trembling. “But you’re so sweet, and you brought me those flowers…” Bingo. I knew those daisies would be a one-way ticket to Pound Town. Best $12.46 I ever spent. “...I just feel like I can trust you.” He was doing those puppy dog eyes again. I needed him inside me. “Of course, you can,” I said, putting my hand on his shoulder. He hugged me, burying his face in my chest. I wrapped my arms around him, breathing in his scent. He smelled so good, like Axe body spray and hair gel and a little bit of BO. My kind of guy. We stayed like that for a moment–his face in my chest, me surreptitiously smelling his hair–but when he looked up at me, I knew immediately we both wanted the same thing. We kissed again, this time with mouths open and tongues wandering wherever they damn well pleased. I ran my fingers through his hair, pulling him into me. He grabbed my waist and lowered me onto the bed, sliding on top of me. He rubbed his cock against mine, making both of us hard as our tongues battled. I couldn’t believe it–this was really happening! Finally, after 18 years of pining and furiously masturbating to Calvin Klein ads, tonight would be the night I would lose my virginity. Stupidly, I hadn’t thought to bring any condoms or lube, but I figured Kevin was trustworthy enough and we could just use spit. But when I went to unzip his pants, he pulled away. “Wait,” he said, sitting back up. “What is it?” I asked, not caring what it was and wanting to return to pulling his cock out of his pants. “I don’t think I’m ready for this,” he said. I wanted to scream. Instead, I just said, “Oh.” “I mean, you’re amazing. And it’s not like I’ve never fucked a girl or anything. I just think… I need a little more time before I’m ready for all that… with a guy.” I nodded graciously. “I understand,” I lied. Sure, it wasn’t the night of my dreams. But it was leaps and bounds more than anything I had done before, and I was certain with time, I could work on him. We made out a little bit more that night (no more hand stuff, sadly) but soon someone was knocking on the door and Kevin kind of freaked out so we had to stop. Since then, I’ve been texting him every day, and he’s really the sweetest. We agreed to take things slow, what with him not being out and all, but I’m hoping I can convince him to at least let me blow him a little and then maybe it will feel so good he’ll give in and put it in my butt? A boy can dream. So that brings me back to my father. He saw my texts with Kevin and found out I had a boyfriend and got all overprotective, so he made me invite Kevin over for dinner so he could meet him and, I don’t know, do that whole “What are your intentions with my son?” thing. I just wanted to get the whole thing over with so we could go back to Kevin’s place and maybe do a little bit of heavy petting. Kevin was kind of intimidated by the whole thing, but he was a good sport and agreed to come over as long as I didn’t tell anyone from school. The night of the dinner he showed up right at six, a bottle of sparkling cider in one hand and a single rose in the other. “Oh my God,” I said when I opened the door. “You’re so sweet!” He grinned. “I thought you’d like it.” He handed me the flower and kissed me on the cheek. From behind me came the sound of my father clearing his throat. “So, you’re the young man who’s dating my son,” he said in that loud, booming voice of his. I turned to see him eyeing Kevin with a stern look on his face, the same one he used when he was disciplining me. I knew him enough to know he was more bark than bite, but Kevin’s face went pale. “Y-yes sir.” He handed my father the bottle of sparkling cider. “This is for you and your wife.” My dad eyed the bottle, then nodded approvingly. “I like a boy who knows his manners. I’m Jud.” He shook Kevin’s hand and gave him a warm smile. Kevin smiled bashfully. “Kevin,” he said, his voice cracking. My dad kept Kevin’s hand firmly in his and clapped him on the shoulder. “Come on in, son.” I followed them into the living room, silently cheering at how well things were going. By this rate, I’d be deflowered by dessert. “I gotta check on dinner,” my dad said as he finally let go of Kevin’s hand. “You boys get comfortable.” The second he left, I wrapped my arms around Kevin and squealed. “Babe, this is going so well! The flowers and the cider were so sweet. I didn’t know you were such a gentleman.” Kevin ignored me, still staring after my dad as he busied himself in the kitchen. It took me shaking his arm to snap him out of it. “What’s that? Oh, yeah, totally.” I frowned. “Are you alright? You’re acting kind of weird.” He shook his head. “I’m fine. I just want your dad to like me, that’s all.” I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him in close to me. “I was thinking maybe after this we could go for a drive in your car. Maybe hit up that spot by the lake?” The lake was notorious for being the go-to spot for horny teenagers. I’d always wanted to be one of those horny teens getting hot and steamy in the backseat. I figured it’d be the perfect place for a little after-dinner anal. He just nodded absentmindedly. “Sure, sure.” Dad came back a minute later wearing a small apron that said “Kiss the Cook,” a tray of small Swedish meatballs in his hand. He presented the tray to Kevin. “A little appetizer for you boys.” “Thank you, sir.” Kevin took one, his eyes lingering on my dad’s. “Oh hell yeah!” I grabbed two of them and shoved one in my mouth right away. “Ugh, Dad, you make the best meatballs.” My dad winked at Kevin. “Go ahead, try one.” Kevin slipped the meatball into his mouth, wrapping his lips around it as it disappeared inside him. When he pulled the toothpick out, it was clean. “Mmm,” he moaned, his eyes fluttering. “Now that’s a compliment,” my dad said, grinning. I grabbed another meatball and bit into it. “Hey, where’s mom? I thought she was supposed to be back from her conference by now.” “She’s stuck in that traffic on I-95,” said dad, his eyes trained on Kevin. “Bumper-to-bumper traffic. Don’t think she’ll be able to make it in time for dinner, unfortunately.” Kevin licked his lips, probably just getting that last bit of meatball sauce. I pouted. “That sucks, I wanted her to meet Kevin.” Dad grabbed one of the meatballs and winked. “I’m sure I can handle this young man all by myself,” he said, then sucked the meatball off the toothpick. Kevin blushed. I rolled my eyes. “But in all seriousness–I do have a few questions for you, as Leo’s dad.” “Ugh, Dad, do we have to?” I asked petulantly. “I thought this was supposed to be a get-to-know-you dinner, not a grilling session.” My father frowned at me. “Now Leo, you may be 18, but you’re still my son. A father has a right to know the man who’s dating his son.” I scoffed. “Fine, but please don’t embarrass me.” My dad nodded toward the couch. “Have a seat.” I sat next to Kevin on the couch while my dad reclined in the sofa chair. I took Kevin’s hand in mine, surprised at how sweaty it was. It was so cute how nervous he was getting. My dad studied Kevin for a moment, then said, “So, Kevin. What are your plans after graduation?” Kevin shifted beside me, clearing his throat. “Well, I was gonna go to trade school. Be a mechanic, like my dad.” Dad raised an eyebrow. “A man who works with his hands? I can respect that.” He extended his hand to Kevin, who hesitated a beat before taking it. My dad’s grip was firm, his large, rough hand engulfing Kevin’s. “Real man earns his calluses, every one,” my dad said as he traced the pads of Kevin’s fingers, his eyes trained on my boyfriend’s. I stepped in, anxious to shift the conversation. “Kevin’s also an actor,” I said quickly. I took his hand from my dad and smiled. “He’s really talented.” My dad let out a short bark of a laugh. “Acting, huh? That gonna pay the bills?” I flinched. Kevin squeezed my hand a little tighter. “No, he’s right.” Kevin gave me a half-smile. “I think it’s time I face the music.” My father leaned forward, clasping his hands. “Let’s cut to the chase. You seem like a good boy, but I’m wondering if you’re serious about my son.” Kevin swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing as his eyes darted to mine. I gave him a soft smile to reassure him. “I, uh… yes. I really like Leo,” Kevin said, his voice a little shaky. My heart fluttered, but Dad just raised an eyebrow, his lips curling in a faint smirk. “Uh-huh. And what exactly are your plans with him?” His voice dropped slightly, more intimate now. Almost like I wasn’t in the room, but still with a clear challenge behind it. “W-we’re taking things slow,” Kevin sputtered. My dad leaned back in his chair and grunted. “Slow, huh? Don’t know if I buy that. Teenage boys always want something–randy little fuckers, all of you.” “Dad!” I hissed, mortified. My dad chuckled. “What, you think I don’t remember what it’s like? I was a horny little devil myself when I was your age. Still am, if you ask your mother.” Kevin’s face flushed, his eyes wide. I felt the heat rising in my own cheeks as the tension in the room grew uncomfortably thick. “You don’t have to worry, sir,” said Kevin. “It’s not like that–” “Oh?” My dad tilted his head, smirking. “So you’re saying you’re a virgin, then?” “Dad!” I said again. God, it was like he was deliberately trying to torture me! Kevin laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh, well… no. I mean, this is my first time, y’know… with a guy.” My dad’s grin widened. “The credits really don’t transfer, do they?” I groaned. “Can we please talk about something, anything else?” My dad snapped his fingers. “You know what I just realized? I forgot the cilantro for dinner. Would you mind running to the store for me?” I blinked, confused by the sudden shift. “What? Right now? Can’t we just skip it?” “Nah,” he said, standing up with an exaggerated stretch that exposed his hairy belly. “Brings the whole dish together. Take my car, I’ll give you some cash.” He left for the kitchen. I turned to Kevin, who looked like he was still trying to catch his breath. “I’m so sorry about him-” Kevin shook his head and gave me a nervous smile. “It’s fine. He’s… a little intense, but I can handle it.” I wasn’t so sure about that. “You’re okay if I leave you alone with him?” He nodded. “Go. I’ll be fine.” Reluctantly, I took the money from my dad when he returned and made my way to the door. Just as I was about to leave, I saw my father slide onto the couch next to Kevin, his arm stretching out across the back of the couch. The air between them shifted immediately. “So,” my dad said, his voice low and smooth, “tell me more about this acting thing…” I sped down the road, my fingers drumming anxiously on the steering wheel. Every second away from home was torture. Kevin had handled my dad’s grilling well enough, but who knew what could happen while I was gone? My dad had a way of pushing boundaries, and I didn’t trust him not to scare off my boyfriend in some misguided attempt at protecting me. The line at the store dragged on forever, and by the time I finally made it through checkout, the sky was already starting to get dark. I pulled into the driveway, parking halfway on the grass in my rush to get inside. I slammed the car door shut, cilantro in hand, and hurried to the front door. “Dad? Kevin? I’m back!” I called out as I stepped into the house, but the living room was strangely empty. A sense of unease crept down my spine. I moved into the kitchen. The soup was still simmering on the stove, a slow, lazy swirl of steam rising from the pot, but there was no sign of them. The silence was overwhelming. “Hello?” I called again, a little louder this time, but still no answer. Maybe they’d gone out into the backyard for some reason? I could just see dad pulling out one of his legendary cigars to try to impress Kevin (or more likely, watch him choke on the smoke). But when I peeked outside, the backyard was empty. I felt a knot growing in my stomach as I tried to think where the hell they could have gone. I went back into the front hallway and stood there puzzled for a moment, trying to listen for where they could be. Suddenly I heard a muffled sound coming from upstairs, low and distant. That was strange… maybe Kevin needed to use the bathroom or something? But why wouldn’t he use the one downstairs? I climbed the stairs to the second floor and called out again. “Hello? You guys?” I didn’t hear any response, but I could hear the low rumble of my dad’s voice coming from one of the rooms. I checked my dad’s room first to see if maybe they were in the master bathroom, but no dice. The room was empty except for my parents’ neatly made bed and the faint smell of my mom’s perfume on her nightstand. I even checked Dad’s office, but no one was in there. Where in the world were they? The muffled voices grew louder the closer I got to my bedroom. That was strange–what would they be doing in there? Maybe Dad was giving Kevin a tour or something. But when I approached the door, something stopped me from turning the handle. A small voice in the back to my head urged me to go back downstairs. I didn’t want to know what was on the other side of that door. Then I heard the unmistakable sound of my dad groaning. “Fuck, that’s it.” Emboldened, I turned the knob slowly, prying the door open just a crack so I could peek inside. My dad sat on the bed, his back facing the door. He was leaning back on his elbows, his broad shoulders stretching his t-shirt tight across his chest. His eyes were closed and he had a dreamy smile on his face. For a second I thought he was alone, but then I noticed movement coming from nearby. A flash of dark hair bobbed up and down, disappearing into my father’s lap–Kevin! My knees went weak at the sight. The bed was blocking most of the action, but I could tell he was on his knees in front of my dad, and from the looks of it, he had my dad’s cock in his mouth. What the fuck?! “That’s it, boy,” said my dad. He ran his fingers through Kevin’s hair and gave him a comforting pat on the cheek. “Nice and slow. Keep your lips over your teeth, just like I showed you.” I watched frozen as my boyfriend fellated my father (on my own bed!). I knew that guys were always crushing on my dad, but this? Really? Kevin lifted his head up, letting my dad’s girthy cock slip out of his mouth. Saliva dripped from his wet, red lips. “Like that, sir?” he asked eagerly. “Just like that, baby,” said dad. He stuck his thumb in Kevin’s mouth as my boyfriend sucked on it hungrily. “Remember what I showed you about the balls.” Kevin lifted my dad’s cock above his head and sucked one of his giant balls into his mouth. I could see the other one dangling out of his mouth, hairy and saggy. It looked so huge I was surprised he was even able to fit one of them in. But my dad’s round, saggy testicle was nothing compared to his cock–a massive, meaty snake with a bright pink tip peeking out of the foreskin. Kevin stroked it as he sucked my dad’s balls, still looking up at him with that stupid doe-eyed expression. I watched entranced as the head came in and out of view, retracting into the foreskin with every tug. I may be his son, but even I had to admit the thing was fucking mesmerizing. “Come here, son,” my dad said, his voice husky. For a second, I thought he was talking to me, but then he lifted Kevin off of his crotch and pulled him up onto his lap. I could see that Kevin’s pants were off, his hard cock tenting his boxer briefs. My dad brought him in for a kiss, sliding his underwear below his ass and giving it a squeeze. My boyfriend was making little moaning sounds, fully submitting to my dad’s manhandling. I was still having trouble processing what I was seeing, half convinced that this was all a daydream. But then Kevin let out a little cry, and I could see why–dad had slipped a finger inside Kevin’s asshole, all the way to the second knuckle. “Shh…” said dad. “We don’t want Leo finding us like this.” He was talking about me! What the hell? That was what really snapped me out of it all. I was just about to burst in and start throwing things when Kevin looked up at my dad and said shyly, “I wanna try that other thing you were talking about.” I narrowed my eyes. What other thing? “You sure about that?” my dad asked. He rubbed Kevin’s lip with his thumb. “Not all boys can handle it.” Kevin nodded. “Please, sir. I need it.” Dad stood, and I could see his cock clearly for the first time. He was naked from the waist down, his boxers pooled around his ankles as his cock sprang out from a dark forest of pubic hair. He tore his shirt off, revealing his hairy gut and thick, beefy pecs. I’d seen him shirtless at the beach before, but I had never seen him in all his proud, naked glory. The sight of it left me speechless. Dad kicked off his boxers. “Turn around, baby. Daddy’s gonna get you ready real quick.” I watched in disbelief as my boyfriend leaped to his hands and knees, ass up and face buried in the pillows before I could even blink. His body was pale and slim with a light smattering of chest hair, a contrast to my father’s thick, hairy frame. My dad put his rough, meaty hands on Kevin’s ass cheeks and spread them. He had a hungry look on his face as he stared at Kevin’s hole, enough that I found myself wishing I had a better vantage point so I could see the action. I nearly jumped as he spit loudly on it. As he rubbed the saliva around Kevin’s hole, then started to rub some on his cock, I suddenly realized what was about to happen. No way. No fucking way. My dad was about to fuck my boyfriend! I threw the door open, hitting the wall with a loud slamming noise. “What in the fuck is going on here?” Kevin’s head shot up, his face blank with shock. Even my dad looked temporarily caught off guard, but then he shot me a casual smile and continued stroking his cock. “Hey Leo. Did you get the cilantro?” “Who gives a shit about the cilantro?” I spat out. “You’re fucking my boyfriend!” “Technically,” my dad said, tugging on his foreskin, “we haven’t actually fucked yet.” I was so mad I was shaking. But before I could cuss him out, Kevin sputtered, “I’m sorry, babe! We were just-” “I don’t want to hear anything from you.” I turned on him, seeing red. “You said you wanted to take things slow! But you’ll bend over for my dad five minutes after meeting him?” “To be fair,” my dad said, sliding a finger back into Kevin and eliciting a high-pitched moan, “I was only doing this to help you.” I scoffed. “How is this helping me?” Dad slid his finger in and out, making Kevin whimper a little bit. “How’s he gonna know how to fuck my son if he’s never been with a guy before? I’m doing you both a favor, trust me.” “Thank you, sir,” Kevin moaned at the same time as I said, “We don’t want your help!” I glared at him. “Kevin, put your pants back on and let’s get out of here.” “No!” Kevin said quickly. “I… I mean… I need this, Leo.” I frowned. “Excuse me?” His eyes rolled back in his head as he choked out a groan of pleasure. The reason was obvious–my dad was on his knees now, his hands spreading Kevin’s cheeks while his tongue worked its way inside him. The sound of slurping and my dad’s low, rumbling sighs filled the room. “Oh fuck,” moaned Kevin. “I just… I need to feel your dad in me. I’m sorry, Leo. But then we can totally do whatever you want, I promise!” My dad pulled off of Kevin’s hole, his jaw wet with saliva. He winked at me. “Don’t worry, son. I’ll take good care of him for you.” He shoved Kevin’s head into the bed, grabbed his dick, and slapped the head of his cock against Kevin’s asshole. “You ready, boy? Once I go in I’m not pulling out until it’s done.” “I need it…” Kevin whimpered. I sank into the sofa chair in the corner, watching helplessly as my father penetrated my boyfriend for the first time. “Oh, goooooooood,” moaned Kevin as my dad split him open like a log. Dad’s fingers kneaded Kevin’s ass cheeks as he slipped the head inside, then held it there. He smiled at me. “That’s a good boy,” he said, rubbing Kevin’s ass with affection. “Once you get the head in like this, you wanna go ahead and give my son a few seconds to get used to it. Juuust like that. Why don’t you go ahead and give my cock a squeeze with your hole while I’m in here?” I could tell he must have complied, because my dad’s eyes rolled back and he let out a laugh of pleasure. “Fuck, you’re a natural. Okay, daddy’s gonna go in a little bit more. No, don’t whine, you can take it. That’s it.” I watched him push his cock deeper inside of my boyfriend, stuffing him fuller than I even thought possible. I didn’t know how Kevin could take any more, and my dad was only halfway in! Kevin put his hand back against my dad’s stomach. “Please, sir… it’s too big!” He looked somewhere midway between excruciating pain and unbelievable pleasure when my dad leaned down and kissed him on the neck. “Shhh, it’s okay son. You’re doing so good,” he said as he slid more of his cock inside him. “You’re being so good for me.” A sticky feeling on my fingers made me realize that I had been subconsciously stroking myself through my shorts. I looked down to see a wet spot forming through my briefs, coating my fingers in gooey precum. I hadn’t even realized I was hard! I ripped my hand away, my dick throbbing so hard it ached for release. But no–I wouldn’t be the guy who jerked off while his own father fucked his boyfriend in front of him. I had a little dignity left, at least! “Oh god, I feel so full, sir,” said Kevin, pressing his forehead against the pillow. Dad kissed him on the cheek as he bottomed out inside him. “Call me daddy, remember?” he whispered. “Daaaddyyyy…” Kevin moaned, his body shuddering in pleasure. Now that he’d fit his whole cock inside of Kevin, my dad collapsed on top of him, crushing him into the bed with his weight. Kevin groaned as my dad started rocking his pelvis back and forth, thrusting in and out of his virgin hole. “Is that nice, baby?” dad asked, smacking his hips into Kevin’s ass. Kevin just whimpered, but I could see him pushing his ass out to let my father penetrate him even deeper. He reached back and pulled his shirt over his head, leaving him completely naked except for his socks. “You feel so good, son.” “UGH!” “You needed a real man inside you, didn’t you?” “Oh… mmm… y-yes, sir.” My dad squeezed Kevin’s ass cheeks, playing with them as he sawed in and out. “Fuck… that pussy feels so good, baby. Arch your back… that’s it. Let daddy in.” I was pretty sure they’d both forgotten I was there until my dad said, “You should be taking notes too, son.” He smacked Kevin on the ass, letting Kevin push back and fuck himself on my dad’s dick. “See how he’s got his ass up in the air like that? And he’s not worrying about his cock right now, he’s focusing on me and my pleasure. He’s still squeezing his hole on my dick, just like a good bottom should. You’ve got a lot to learn from him.” I rolled my eyes. As if I would be taking bottoming advice from the boy who cheated on me with my own father! Still, what he was saying did make a lot of sense, so I filed it away for future reference and started stroking myself again. Kevin was moaning loudly now, whimpering like an animal as my dad rutted into him. I could see his hand sliding back to grab my dad’s ass, pulling him in deeper as dad continued to pound away. My hand was flying up and down my cock as I rubbed myself closer over the edge. The whole thing was incredibly humiliating, but all I could focus on was the hot bareback sex happening in front of me. Even if it was my dad, and even if the man he was fucking was my erstwhile boyfriend, I had to admit they looked really fucking hot together. Dad’s beefy gut was smacking up against Kevin’s ass, and his thick, hairy legs were dripping with sweat. Those balls that Kevin had been sucking on so lovingly just a few minutes ago were pummeling his own sack, swinging through the air like a pendulum in perfect rhythm. Dad had a determined look on his face now, like he’d forgotten all about me and was solely concerned about getting off. Kevin, on the other hand, had long since forgotten I existed, and was gripping the bed sheets for dear life as my dad rammed into him again and again. He had an ecstatic smile on his face like I’d never seen before, not in a single one of those Grease shows I’d so dutifully attended. Dad was grunting loudly now, his movements jerky and erratic as he got close to a nut. I could feel myself getting close, cheeks burning with shame as I got cuckolded by my own father. Sweat dripped from his forehead and onto Kevin’s back, and the slick, sloppy sounds of flesh on flesh filled the room until it was all I could hear. Then, all too soon, he grabbed Kevin’s waist and pulled him in tight. “ARGH… fuck!” My dad let out a roar as he unloaded inside my boyfriend. I shot my own load onto my leg, my seed warm and sticky as it dripped off my thigh and onto the ground. Dad was shuddering as he spilled his seed, his eyes shut tight in intense concentration. Kevin just had a dizzy look on his face, his hands spread wide on the bed as a little bit of drool fell out of the corner of his mouth. Finally dad pulled out of Kevin, leaning back against his heels as a thin strand of precum dribbled out of his wet, shiny cock. He slapped Kevin’s butt cheek once, then said, “Great job, kid. Now just do that to my son and you’ll be good.” Kevin didn’t look like he heard a word my father said. He was lying on my bed, eyes glazed over as a steady dribble of my father’s seed leaked out of his hole. I knew right then that we were through. Even if I could forgive him, how could he go back to topping me when he’d already known what it felt like to bottom for my father? He’d be begging me to top him all the time and there was no way I could hold a candle to my father. No, my dad had ruined Kevin for me. Hell, he’d probably ruined him for all men. As if to add insult to injury, my dad walked over to me and squeezed my shoulder. His hand was sticky with cum, and the smell of it invaded my nostrils. “Do me a favor, son,” he said with a grin. “Don’t tell your mother.”

This is a great story! And your english is fine, especially considering it’s not your first language. Although I have to say I laughed out loud at “moan” the lawn—the image was hilarious 😂

I know everyone has their hope for the ending, and I certainly have mine. The romantic in me hopes there's some repeat of Chester and Will's dad's fucked up incest love relationship, but this time with uncle and nephew! But that chapter where the grandson gets taken by the neighbor was so fucking hot as well, so I know that whatever ending comes will be incredible.

Thank you for reaching out to ask about the story! Long story short, last April some family stuff happened and I ended up having to move across the country without much notice, which took away my writing time for a while. Since then, I slowly got back into the erotic fiction writing through Literotica and ended up launching a substack for my writing (it’s erotic fiction, but not specifically bug chasing). I am putting a lot of my efforts into that right now since it’s what’s helping pay the bills, but I do have most of another chapter for this story written and sitting in my google doc waiting to be finished. I’ve been waiting to feel really inspired to work on it, but now that I know there’s an audience for it, I hope to at least finish and post this next chapter for you! Also, funnily enough, the story I’m working on on Literotica is about a guy who keeps getting cucked by his dad, and I feel like I could turn it into a good bugchasing story with only a couple of tweaks. Maybe I’ll take a stab at that after Bloodline.

It will be Isaiah!

Patient 4: Dylan “I’m sorry to tell you this, but you’re HIV-positive.” Those were the words that changed Dylan’s life forever. He’d known it was coming. He and Ed had been fucking since the spring; it was only a matter of time until he was infected too. If he was being honest, he’d already known somewhere deep inside that he’d carried the disease. But this was the moment it finally became real. As he sat alone in that dark gray hospital room, those words ringing in his ears, he waited for the inevitable wave of fear and anxiety to come crashing down on him. Nothing happened. “I have some pamphlets here if you’re interested in learning more,” said the nurse gently. He took them from her, trying to avoid the look of pity in her eyes. Surely the fear would come any minute, and her pity would be justified. After all, they said that AIDS was a death sentence. He could see how it affected Ed, weakening his body and suppressing his spirit. Who knows how long until the disease ravaged his body and tore it apart from the inside out? But as he sat on that crinkly white paper, trying to avoid her pitiful gaze, he didn’t feel scared at all. He felt relief. “Thank you,” he said. “I think I’d like a minute to myself if that’s all right.” The nurse nodded. “Take as long as you need.” When she left, he let out a deep breath. He looked around the room at the ugly shade of paint on the wall. He laughed to himself. “I’m HIV positive,” he said breathlessly. He looked at his hands. They looked the same as ever. It was almost like he could feel his blood pumping, warming his limbs. He felt light and giddy. He ran his fingers across his arm, shivering at how sensitive he felt. “I’m poz…” He slipped his hand underneath his shorts, under the waistline of his underwear. He grabbed his dick, stroking it softly as it grew to full length. He rubbed his thumb over the head, wiped off the smear of precum beading at the edge of his cock, and brought it to his lips. He slipped his thumb inside, swirling the taste around in his mouth. “Fuck…” It had been years since he’d tasted his own cum, but he never remembered it tasting as heavenly as it did now. He sucked on his thumb, getting it nice and wet before sliding it back down his shorts and into his hole. He grabbed his cock with his other hand, laying back against the table as he milked himself. He could picture Ed’s face in his mind, that smug grin that was equal parts infuriating and intoxicating. It was Ed’s seed that flowed through him now, that leaked from his cock as he worked out his first positive load. He wanted to christen this experience, to immortalize the moment he first knew definitively that he was a dirty, fucked up, free man. “Ugh… oh fuck… oh yes!” He wiggled his thumb into his hole as deep as it would go, then cried out as his cock sprayed his tainted load all over his chest. The poz seed soaked through his shirt, staining it with his gift. He ran his fingers through the cum and sucked it down, savoring the thick globs of dirty sperm. When he left the hospital that day, he was a changed man. The things that had weighed him down before no longer mattered. At first, he wondered if he was just in shock. That the high would come crashing down and leave him wrecked like the rest of the men he’d seen get infected. But the comedown never came. For the first time in his life, he felt like he finally knew who he was. The virus had given that to him–it had made everything clear. Years of putting on appearances and trying to live double lives washed away in an instant. He had finally embraced his true self–a sick, perverted, cum-guzzling faggot. He didn’t share his newfound revelation with Ed. The man was too unpredictable, still in denial about having AIDS. Dylan almost felt sorry for him at times, until he remembered the way that Ed had shamelessly infected him without a second thought for his well-being. Not that Dylan really minded–he was actually grateful to him now. But that didn’t change the fact that Ed’s reaction to being poz and Dylan’s reaction to being poz were two different things. No, Dylan would have to maintain the illusion until the point of no return. By that time, Ed would be too weak to leave. At times he wondered if he didn’t want Ed to leave because he didn’t want to lose Ed’s money or because he didn’t want to lose Ed’s dick. He knew he could probably have any man in Manhattan if he really put his mind to it. He’d been with plenty of well-off, powerful men in the few months he’d been escorting before Ed. But there was something about the old man that he found thrilling and erotic, and, if he was being honest with himself, incredibly similar to his father. Perhaps it was the self-loathing, the arrogance, the selfishness. His dad certainly had that in spades. Or perhaps it was the fact that, as Ed’s body began to waste and rot away, he was only becoming more and more attractive to him. Then around Christmas, Ed’s health took a serious turn for the worse. He became bedridden, leaving Dylan with the responsibility of being his primary caretaker. He didn’t mind–after all, he was living solely on Ed’s dime, and he still harbored some affection for the man. But Ed’s condition left him feeling isolated. He had no one else to talk to, no one to confide in his feelings about being poz and the freedom it gave him. He needed to find someone who understood, someone who felt the way that he did. He found what he was looking for in late February: an ad in the local gay paper for an HIV/AIDS support group in Chelsea. It met on Monday afternoons in a small room in someone’s apartment, densely furnished with bric-a-brac and reeking of potpourri. When he walked in, he was surprised to see only a handful of people there. “Please, join us,” said a kind-looking Asian man in his early 30s. “We’re just about to start.” Dylan sat in the only empty chair in the circle. To his left was a handsome black man in his late 20s, and to his right, a sickly thin man with light red hair. He tried not to stare at the sick man, wanting to be respectful. But curiosity drew his gaze–he knew this would be his fate eventually. The thought didn’t scare him, surprisingly. The Asian man clapped his hands together and smiled at them. “For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Vincent. I started this group to be a safe space for anyone with HIV or AIDS who wants to share their experience and those of us like myself who are negative but deeply impacted by this epidemic. We’ve all experienced the fear and stigma out there. But this is a safe place to discuss that without fear of judgment. Now, who would like to begin?” The man with red hair raised his hand. “I mean, I guess I’ll start.” He pulled out a handkerchief and coughed into it. Then he laughed wryly. “It’s not like it’s hard to tell I’m sick. My work fired me the second one of these showed up.” He pointed to a purple lesion on the back of his forearm. “But the hardest part has been my partner. He’s so scared of getting it he won’t even sleep in the same bed as me anymore. Every time I cough he cowers away from me, like he’s afraid I’ll infect him. It’s like… I wish he would just leave me, you know? At least that way I would feel like he’s being honest with me.” Dylan frowned. He suddenly felt like his very presence was offensive. “Thank you, Ryan.” Vincent turned to Dylan. “How about our newcomer? Would you like to share?” Dylan felt a jolt of adrenaline as all eyes turned to him. “Well… I think maybe I should just listen-” “Nonsense. Whatever you have to say, this is a safe place.” “Okay. Well… I just tested positive a few months ago.” Vincent nodded. “That must have been difficult.” Dylan bit his lip. “But… that’s the thing. It wasn’t.” Vincent tilted his head, a confused smile on his face. “How do you mean?” “I mean, I wasn’t upset. I was happy.” He looked around at the men in the group. “I felt… powerful, you know? Like I had been given this gift, this lineage that stretched back to so many men before me. A brotherhood of men like me who loved to fuck and get fucked. They want us to be ashamed of being gay, but I just felt this sense of freedom for the first time in my life. Like I could fuck whoever I wanted without being afraid.” He grew more passionate as something was unleashed inside him. “There’s nothing to be afraid of anymore, you know? We’re poz. We’re freed from all that societal bullshit and those ridiculous expectations. Now we can just fuck like we’re meant to-” “That’s enough.” Vincent was not smiling anymore. “How dare you come in here and say those things?” He blushed. “I’m sorry. This is just how I feel, I’m not trying to-” Vincent’s face was red with anger. “These men are sick. Some of them sicker than others. But they are sick and they are dying. How dare you make AIDS some kind of… freedom? It’s a death sentence.” “But that’s what I’m talking about,” Dylan said desperately. “I don’t think it has to be. I think if you embrace it, if you let it in and you do what it wants, I think it can free you. That’s what happened to me. I knew I was gonna get it, I think I wanted it in a way. It’s like I knew it would give me a new life, and it could do the same for you if you’ll only let it-” “I think you should leave.” Vincent stood up, his finger pointed toward the door. Dylan looked around the room. The other men avoided his gaze. “I’m sorry. I’ll… I’ll go.” He walked out of the apartment, his cheeks burning. Tears sprang to his eyes as he descended the stairs. Why was he the only one who felt this way? Why didn’t they understand, why couldn’t they see? He had just left the building when he heard his name being called. “Dylan, wait!” The handsome black man from the meeting had followed him out of the meeting. He smiled at him, showing off a pearly white grin. “Can I buy you a cup of coffee?” As they sat in a diner down the street, both clutching mugs of shitty Folgers coffee, Dylan studied the man in front of him. His hair was natural and textured, with short locks that jutted out from every angle. He had a close-trimmed beard that enclosed two beautiful lips, lips that Dylan couldn’t help but stare at as he sipped his coffee. The man caught his gaze and smiled at him. “I’m Isaiah, by the way.” “Dylan.” Isaiah smirked. “I was pretty surprised to hear what you said back there, Dylan.” “Yeah, well, I shouldn’t have-” “It’s okay.” Isaiah raised his hands in a show of peace. “I thought it was really cool how you spoke your truth. And… I agree with you.” He raised an eyebrow. “You do?” Isaiah leaned forward, his hands clasped together on the table. “Yeah. I mean, I never really thought about it like that, but when I heard you say it… It was like it all made sense, you know?” Dylan sighed. “Well, I’m not so sure it’s a message people are willing to hear. And I wasn’t trying to offend anyone, I really wasn’t. I just feel like people have got this virus all wrong. Like, it’s not a curse from God, or whatever they’re saying, it’s-” “-a blessing.” Isaiah grinned, flashing those beautiful teeth. “Yeah. I know what you mean.” “How did you feel when you found out you were positive?” Isaiah leaned back, drumming his fingers against the table. “Uh… you know. Shock and all of that. I think I was a bit scared at first, to be honest. Then I got really horny. I wanted to fuck, but I felt guilty giving it to someone else. So I just sort of shoved it down.” Dylan nodded excitedly. “Exactly! That’s what I’m saying–imagine if we didn’t have to feel that kind of shame. Imagine if we could be honest and just say we wanna fuck. We like being poz, we like the way it feels. There’s nothing to fear anymore. I mean, how many people get that kind of freedom?” Isaiah smirked. “See, I know that, and you know that. But how exactly do we explain all that to the rest of the world?” Dylan sat back. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I guess maybe one person at a time.” Isaiah raised his eyebrows. “What, you want to start a group or something?” He shrugged. “Why not? They’ve got their support group. Why shouldn’t we have our own?” “A pro-AIDS support group?” “A group of people who are empowered by being poz. People who take pride in their status and laugh in the face of anyone who would dare shame them.” Isaiah laughed. “I gotta say, I like what you’re saying. Your energy, it’s… powerful.” He took another sip of his coffee and leaned back, stretching his arm across the booth. “So tell me–what are the rules for this little group? I mean, what are we all about?” “Well, first of all, I think there should be no shame whatsoever. That’s rule number one. And if we’re not ashamed of our status, then there should be no reason not to have sex. Sex is a gift and we should treat it that way. I think we should never turn down an opportunity to get or give loads.” “I guess that means condoms are out,” Isaiah said with a grin. “Absolutely. That’s rule number three.” “What about people who don’t have the virus? I mean, there’s gotta be some people like you who wanted it before they even had it.” Dylan nodded. “You’re right. I think we need to focus on more than just the people who are already poz. This thing is spreading, and spreading quickly. If more guys would just take control of their lives, get the virus on their terms, in their way… I think it would make all the difference.” “So we give the virus to anyone who asks for it?” said Isaiah. “Yes.” Isaiah took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “That’s pretty bold right there.” “I don’t care,” said Dylan. “Everyone should have the choice to get or give HIV if that’s what they want. As long as both parties are willing, I don’t see the problem with it. In fact… in a way, I think it’s probably the kindest thing you can do for someone.” Isaiah smiled. “I like that.” He took Dylan’s hand in his and rubbed it. Dylan felt a flutter in his chest. He’d never really felt this way around a guy before. Most men were like his father, who was disgusted by him, or like Ed, who just wanted to use him. Isaiah didn’t seem like either. “Do you wanna get out of here?” Isaiah asked with a twinkle in his eye. “I don’t think I can wait.” Dylan grinned mischievously. “Bathroom?” The second they locked the door behind them, they were off to the races. Those beautiful lips were all over Dylan’s neck, making his skin tingle as he ran his fingers through Isaiah’s gorgeous locks. His hands fiddled with Isaiah’s belt, desperate to wrap his fingers around the man’s cock. He reached into Isaiah’s jeans and grabbed his dick, warm and hard. Isaiah growled softly as he stroked it. “Take these off.” Isaiah dropped to his knees and began peeling off Dylan’s pants. He smiled when he saw the lacy fabric of Dylan’s thong. “Let me see that pretty pink hole.” He bent Dylan over the counter, one hand running over his back while the other squeezed his ass. He pried away the thong strap with his thumb to reveal Dylan’s hole, smooth and pink. “Fuck, boy. I gotta taste that.” Dylan moaned as he felt Isaiah’s tongue on his hole, the roughness of the man’s beard scratching his sensitive taint. He rested his face against the mirror, his fingers clawing at the glass as Isaiah ravaged his hole. “Please, I need your cock,” he whimpered, his body quivering. The next thing he knew, Isaiah had pulled him down onto his knees and that thick, beautiful cock was leaking in his face. “Put it in your mouth, baby.” He didn’t need to be asked twice. He slid his mouth over Isaiah’s foreskin, running his tongue along the underside of the man’s shaft. Isaiah moaned. “I want to do this with you.” He pushed his cock deeper inside Dylan’s mouth until his pubes scratched his nose. “I want a place where we can fuck freely. Where we can be who the virus makes us…” Isaiah face-fucked him slowly, holding him tightly as he slid in and out of Dylan’s throat. It felt amazing, pure and animalistic and passionate. It was different from sex with Ed, more honest. He wasn’t playing a part anymore. He was just offering himself to this man who thought the way he did, who saw the way gay sex was supposed to be. Dylan grabbed Isaiah’s ass, pushing the man deeper into himself. He was already imagining what it would look like, this group the two of them were birthing today. No more shame or self-hate. Only pleasure, raw and unapologetic. There would be dozens of men like them, some poz and ready to breed and others waiting for a chance to be unleashed. This fuck was only the beginning of so much more to come. Isaiah let out a guttural moan as he unloaded inside his throat. Dylan could feel the man’s cock throbbing as pumped his stomach full of beautiful, toxic cum. He pulled his own cock out of his thong and started stroking it, bringing himself to completion in seconds as he shot his own toxic load onto the tile. “Holy fuck,” Isaiah said breathlessly, his limp cock falling out of Dylan’s mouth. “Now that’s what I’m talking about.” “I’m just getting started,” Dylan said with a wicked grin. They made plans to meet up at Isaiah’s apartment later that week to brainstorm about finding their first recruit. Isaiah lived in Chelsea, not far from where they’d met. Over the next couple of days, he found his thoughts consumed with Isaiah and their burgeoning group. He could see it now, a group of guys who could recharge each other and spread their seed the way God intended. Isaiah at his side, his right-hand man to guide men towards the light. When he approached the address Isaiah had given him, he was practically buzzing with excitement. A loud whistling sound coming from above caught his attention. He looked up to see an old man leering down at him from his balcony. “Shit, boy. You gotta lotta ass on that little frame.” The old man looked to be in his 70s, with greasy black hair, a large, wrinkled nose, and fat pink lips. He grinned lecherously. “You wanna come up for a little fun? I’m on the third floor, apartment 3C. Gimme ten minutes and I’ll make you squeal.” He scratched at a purple splotch on his neck. Dylan just smiled up at him and walked into the building. “I met your neighbor,” he said to Isaiah when he opened the door to his suite. “He’s charming.” “Oh jeez, sorry about him,” Isaiah said as he let him in. “He’s always ogling at guys on the sidewalk.” Dylan sat on the couch, slipping off his shoes and curling his legs underneath him. “What do you know about him?” “Not much. I always thought he was a bit of a creep, but part of me kind of respects his game. He wants to get his dick wet, no more, no less. He’d probably have more luck if he didn’t look like a walking STD factory.” “You think he’s poz?” Isaiah shrugged. “Probably. Don’t know how, though–no one I know would ever go near him, even before all this.” Dylan beamed. “He sounds perfect.” “Perfect for what?” “What do you think about him for our first recruit?” Isaiah raised an eyebrow. “You can’t be serious?” He nodded. “Absolutely. He’s exactly the kind of guy we’ve been looking for.” “I don’t know…” Isaiah frowned. “I was hoping for someone a little less… well, disgusting.” “Remember our motto–we get and give loads to anyone who wants them. The virus doesn’t discriminate and neither should we.” Isaiah thought for a moment. “Fair point. Okay, I’m in.” Dylan grabbed Isaiah’s hand and smiled. “Come on–let’s strike while the iron’s hot.” He held Isaiah’s hand as they walked up to the third floor. He could feel butterflies in his stomach again. Was he nervous about bringing in their newest member? Or was it the feeling of Isaiah’s hand in his? They stopped outside the door to 3C. “You sure about this?” asked Isaiah. He nodded, then knocked on the door. He heard the sound of footsteps, then a chain unlatching. The door opened to reveal the old man wearing nothing but a tank top and a pair of striped boxer shorts. He scratched his pot belly and grinned. “Well well. Two for the price of one.” Dylan smiled sweetly. “Can we come in?” “Fuck yeah, you can come in. Right this way, sweetheart.” He stepped back to allow the two young men into his apartment. The air was stale and stifling like the windows had never been opened before. The man gestured to the couch, which seemed stained with some sort of bodily fluids. “Please, have a seat.” The old man seemed excited, almost like he couldn’t believe his luck. “I’m Gary.” “I’m Dylan, and this is Isaiah.” Dylan sat on the couch, wary of avoiding anything sticky. Isaiah stayed standing. “Can I get you anything to drink?” asked Gary. “Beer? Water?” “Hold the Rohypnol,” Isaiah muttered under his breath. Dylan shot him a look, then smiled at Gary. “Thank you, I’m fine.” The old man sat down on a recliner across from them and put his feet up. “So, what can I do for you two boys?” One of his hairy testicles fell out of the leg of his boxer shorts. He scratched it. Dylan cleared his throat. “Well, we actually have a proposal for you. You see-” “Aw, fuck. This isn’t one of them things where you try and get me to sell you my apartment, is it?” Gary sat up in his seat, his pot belly jiggling as he moved. “Cause I ain’t moving. I told the last guys, I’m staying here till I die. Don’t care how soon that is.” He scratched the purple lesion on his neck again. “So if that’s what you’re here for, you can go ahead and-” “It’s not, I promise.” Dylan looked at Isaiah. “We actually wanted to know if you’d be interested in joining a group that we’re thinking of starting.” Gary’s eyes narrowed. “Group, huh? What kind of group? Like a religious thing?” Isaiah laughed. “Kind of. In a way.” “It’s more of a… well, an HIV thing,” said Dylan. “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but… you are poz, right?” Gary sighed. “Well, guess it ain’t no use hiding it. Yeah, I got the bug. A few years back, actually. Fucking shame, I used to get so much boypussy. Now I’m lucky just to get enough to get by.” Dylan nodded. “That’s why we came here, actually. You see, we’re both poz too.” Gary blinked in surprise. “Really? But you’re both so… healthy. Young. You look great.” Dylan smiled. “I don’t think being poz means you have to be old and decrepit. I mean, I know we’ll all go that way one day. But I think that being poz is just another part of life. It’s part of being gay, a right of passage we all go through towards sexual liberation. Whether you get it when you’re young or when you’re old, we’re all gonna get it eventually. There’s no use denying it or being afraid of it.” Gary studied him for a moment. “You’re not like most of the boys out there, are you? Most guys see me, they run in the opposite direction as fast as their legs can carry them. They don’t see the real me, the sex pistol I used to be. I could get a boy off with just one finger, and I did as often as I could. I made so many men cum it could fill the empire state building. It’s a fucking shame those days are behind me.” “What if it didn’t have to be?” Dylan’s eyes were shining. “What if your sexual prime was right now?” The old man laughed. “Now I know I still got the juice, but come on. What guy in his right mind would fuck me?” “I would,” said Dylan. Gary blinked. “Really? You’d let me fuck you?” He nodded. “Mm-hm.” “Without a condom?” Dylan laughed. “What’s the point of doing it at all if it isn't raw?” He stood. “That’s what I’m talking about. Raw, man-on-man sex. Dirty, unfiltered, impure.” He walked toward Gary, slipping his shoes off as he went. “Just two poz guys, sharing the gift with each other.” He ran his finger along Gary’s arm. He could see the old man’s dick poking out of the hole in his boxer shorts. “Does that sound like something you’d be interested in?” Gary swallowed, then nodded. Dylan pulled down his pants to reveal what he wore underneath: a bright red garter belt and matching stockings. He wore it without underwear, leaving his boythings completely exposed underneath. The old man gasped as Dylan climbed on top of his lap. His hands shook as they gripped Dylan’s waist, rubbing his hard cock against the boy’s hole. “Jesus,” he whispered as Dylan stripped off his shirt. “You’re beautiful.” Dylan reached through the hole in the old man’s boxer shorts and grabbed his cock. It was short and stubby, but thick enough to leave Dylan feeling nice and full. It sat in a giant tuft of thick, gray pubic hair like a snake waiting to strike. He aimed it at his hole and sat down slowly. “This is what I’m offering you,” he whispered into Gary’s ear. “A wet hole, anytime you want it. Men like us who just want to fuck and breed and spread their seed as far and wide as they can.” He slowly bounced up and down on Gary’s cock, feeling his hole spread open by the man’s thickness. His hands rested on the man’s thick belly, steadying himself as he worked Gary’s cock with his pussy. The old man stared up at him in awe, his eyes glazed over as he enjoyed the wetness of his insides. Isaiah stood off to the side, his cock in his hand as he played the voyeur. “Come here.” He held his hand out to Isaiah. As Isaiah approached, he took the man’s cock into his mouth and sucked on it hungrily. The sounds of both men groaning were like music to his ears. He squeezed Gary’s cock with his hole as he swirled his tongue around Isaiah’s cock, desperate to give these two poz men the relief they so badly deserved. “Oh fuck,” said Gary. He grabbed Dylan’s waist and slammed him down on his cock. “Take my poz load, boy. Take daddy’s load!” He grunted loudly as he expelled his charged cum inside Dylan’s rectum. Dylan felt the old man’s hands squeezing his tits as his body shook with pleasure. Soon the sound of Isaiah’s groaning joined the sounds from the old man as he tasted Isaiah’s sweet seed on his tongue. Fully recharged, he slid off of Gary’s lap, careful to keep the old man’s gift safely inside him. Gary lay on the recliner, breathing heavily as his limp cock still poked out of his boxers. “Holy fuck,” he wheezed. “That was incredible.” He grinned lecherously at Isaiah. “I’m spent now, but I can’t wait for a chance with this one.” He stroked his limp cock, sniffed his fingers, then licked off some of Dylan’s ass juices. Isaiah grimaced. “You join our group, you can have it anytime you want. Me…” Dylan nodded at Isaiah, “...him, anyone else who joins the poz brotherhood.” Gary beamed. “I’m in!” From that day on, it was the three of them against the world. Gary was a ravenous new recruit, eager to spread the word and seed as far as he could. They met in Isaiah’s apartment, mostly because Isaiah refused to set foot in Gary’s den of bodily fluids again. “You’re looking for new members, I got the perfect guy–an old friend from my days in the army,” Gary said excitedly at their first meeting. “We used to hook up every now and then on the down-low. Course, it was hard hiding it from his wife when he got the bug. She left him, took everything and ruined his life. Last I heard he was trawling for dick in Harlem. I’ll see if I can track him down!” Dylan nodded. “Sounds good. While you’re doing that, I want Isaiah to start looking into some apartment spaces in the area. We’ll need a place to meet on the regular.” Isaiah frowned. “How exactly are we gonna afford that? You got some kinda fortune I don’t know about?” Dylan felt Ed’s credit cards burning a hole in his pocket. He smiled. “Don’t worry about it. Now while you’re doing that, I’ve got a little project of my own to work on.” “You sure you don’t want my help?” asked Isaiah. He squeezed Dylan’s hand, winking at him. “I think we make a pretty good team.” Dylan kissed him on the cheek. “I’m sure. I need to do this on my own.” He waited outside the apartment building, his face hidden behind a large pair of Carrera sunglasses he’d bought on Ed’s dime the week before. He was careful to stay out of sight, lest he be recognized by one of the attendees, or, God forbid, the host. Finally, after about an hour, he saw who he was looking for. The sickly ginger man from the meeting looked paler than ever as he left the apartment. Despite the sun shining and the lack of chill, he wore a big coat, which he wrapped around himself as he walked down the sidewalk. Dylan followed behind him, waiting until they were safely away from the meeting to make his approach. A couple of blocks later the ginger man was stopped at a red light waiting to cross. Dylan walked up beside him and put his hand on his arm. “Excuse me,” he said. “Don’t I know you?” The guy’s face turned even paler when he saw him. “Oh… what are you doing here?” “It’s Ryan, right?” Ryan looked nervously at the light. “I should probably be going-” “Wait,” said Dylan. “I just wanna talk. Could we go for a walk?” Ryan looked at him warily for a moment, then nodded. They walked around City Hall Park for a bit, the ginger man shivering even in the sun. “How are things with your partner?” asked Dylan. Ryan shrugged. “The same. He still won’t touch me.” He frowned. “I’m sorry. That really sucks.” Ryan laughed. “Yeah, well, we can’t all be as free as you. What was it, ‘free from all of society’s bullshit expectations?’” He coughed into his arm, causing a nearby woman to lean away from him. “Look, I’m not here to preach at you,” said Dylan. “I just want to ask you something.” He stopped walking. “Do you feel like your life would be better if you didn’t have to feel ashamed of who you were?” Ryan sighed. “I don’t know. I don’t see what difference it makes. I’m dying either way.” “But you’re not dead yet.” He grabbed Ryan’s hand. “That’s what I’m saying. You are a beautiful, drop-dead-sexy man. Your boyfriend should be fighting other guys off with a stick, not shaming you and refusing to sleep in the same bed as you.” “What does it matter? I can’t change him. He only sees me for this disease. He’s afraid of it.” “I’m not,” said Dylan. “And there are other guys like me, guys who aren’t afraid of the bug. Who accept it head-on? Don’t you want to be a part of something that accepts you for who you are? Fuck it, who more than accepts your disease, but actually celebrates it?” Ryan shook his head. His eyes were wet. “That’s just a fantasy. It’s not real.” “It is real.” Dylan held out his hand. “Join us. There are just a few of us right now, but I promise you, we will build a safe place where you’ll get all the love and sex you need. Where you can breed and be bred to your heart’s content.” Ryan looked at him, his lip trembling. “I don’t believe you.” Dylan touched Ryan’s lips with his fingers, then kissed him softly. He felt the man melt into his arms, going so weak he had to hold him up. They kissed deeply, tongues fighting as they swapped saliva. When Dylan broke the kiss, Ryan was staring up at him in wonder. He smiled. “Come with me.” He took him into the men’s room at City Hall, guiding him into one of the stalls at the end. He pulled off the man’s coat, revealing his thin, wasted frame underneath. Ryan instinctively covered himself with his arms in shame. Dylan grabbed his arms and pulled them away. “Don’t.” He kissed Ryan. “You’re so beautiful.” He pulled off the man’s shirt, revealing his pale, veiny torso and abs. He traced his skin with his fingertips, kissing down the man’s chest as he got on his knees. He unbuckled Ryan’s belt, then slid the man’s pants down over his cock. It was the most lively thing about him, long and thick underneath a bright red patch of fiery hair. “Jesus,” whispered Dylan. “You should have never put this thing away.” He took the head into his mouth, causing Ryan to cry out in joy. He sucked the man’s death stick, eager to work him up to full mast so he could receive his gift. When Ryan was fully hard, he stood up and bent over, gripping the top of the stall as he offered Ryan his hole. “Take me,” he moaned. “Give me your poz load.” With trembling fingers, Ryan lowered his pants, then peeled off his lace panties to gain access to his hole. His fingers were hard and boney as they opened him up, but he soon felt the warmth of the man’s knob easing its way into him. He relished the sound of Ryan’s moans, joyful at the knowledge that his pussy could resurrect this dying man. He felt Ryan’s lips against his neck as the man buried his cock up to the hilt inside of him. “Oh God…” moaned Ryan. “I never thought I’d feel this again.” Dylan turned his head to look into Ryan’s eyes. “Fuck me,” he whispered. “Show me what you were made for.” Ryan grabbed his hair and pulled his head back. He withdrew his cock almost all the way, then slammed it back inside. “Fuck, that pussy,” he moaned. He kept a tight grip on Dylan’s curls as he reamed the boy’s ass, filling the bathroom with the sound of flesh on flesh. The two men grunted together, loud and animalistic. Nothing else mattered now–not the rules of society, not the fear of getting caught. They were two men doing what they were put on earth to do: fucking each other’s brains out. Dylan could feel the ginger man getting more energized with every thrust. His cold skin became warmer as he worked himself up to his orgasm, his death stick preparing to fire for the first time in ages. His boney fingers dug into Dylan’s ass cheeks as he heaved one, two, three times before collapsing onto the boy’s back. Soon Dylan felt that sweet, familiar feeling of warmth spread through him as he took Ryan’s gift inside him. Then he felt Ryan shaking on top of him. It took him a moment, but he soon realized the man was crying. “Hey.” He turned around and took the ginger man into his arms. Ryan looked up at him with tears in his eyes. “I didn’t think I could ever have that again.” Dylan wiped away his tears. “There’s so much more, Ryan. Will you let me show you?” Ryan nodded, and Dylan knew the man was his. He smiled. “Then there’s something I want you to do for me.” With Ryan on his side, Dylan’s little group started growing faster than ever. Gary brought in several of his old fuckbuddies, some of them newly poz and others in the advanced stages of AIDS, but all of them horny and eager to fuck with abandon. Isaiah found a spacious little two-bedroom apartment for rent in the same apartment building as the HIV support group, which quickly became the headquarters of their new poz brotherhood. But the real secret weapon was Ryan. His experience with Dylan had been a spiritual awakening, breathing new life into him and changing him from the inside out. He was no longer sickly and defeated, but strong and full of vitality. It was something like a miracle, and it was one Dylan used to his full advantage. He started small–getting Ryan to approach one or two of the more jaded members of Vincent’s little group and broach the topic of a new way of life. Seeing Ryan’s transformation and lured by the notion of carefree sex, the men were easily swayed into jumping ship. Soon the group was hemorrhaging members as they defected one by one to join the poz brotherhood. By spring, Dylan had gained over a dozen followers. They held weekly meetings on Saturday nights, where they would meet at the new apartment and recharge each other during lust-filled orgies. Dylan made sure to receive each man’s seed at least once, knowing that his pussy had become something of a prized commodity among the men. Then, once everyone had given and gotten at least one load, they would discuss their plans for expanding the brotherhood. “We need fresh blood,” said Gary one evening in early April. “We can always go to hospitals and try to find guys with HIV,” said Isaiah. Gary scoffed. “No, I don’t mean men who are already poz. I mean neg guys.” He turned to Dylan. “You promised us we’d get to spread our seed. But all we’ve done is recharge a bunch of guys who already have the bug.” The men began to argue amongst themselves. Dylan raised his hand to quiet them. “The more poz men we bring over to our way of life, the more we’ll attract neg guys who want what we have. All we have to do is wait. And whoever does want to be pozzed will get to take seed from all of us. We’ll all share in the conversion.” “I say we go to the public toilets in Central Park and just start pozzing guys,” said Gary. He grinned. “Once they’re infected they’ll start to see our way of thinking.” Dylan shook his head. “No. Absolutely not.” “I thought HIV was supposed to be a gift? Why are we holding back?” “It is a gift, but receiving that gift should be a choice,” said Dylan. “It’s something every man should be able to decide for himself.” “I didn’t get to decide,” said Ryan. He stood, addressing the other men. “I didn’t choose to be this way. But even so, I’m glad I have the disease now.” He smiled at Dylan. “You showed me the light. I think it's only fair we do the same for others.” Dylan banged on the table with his fist. “Enough. I don’t want to hear any more talk about stealthing neg guys. This is not who we are. If you wanna be in the poz brotherhood, you follow our rules.” “What about him, huh?” Gary nodded at Isaiah. Dylan frowned. “What about him?” Gary pointed at him accusingly. “He’s not following our rules. Whatever happened to ‘give and get loads from whoever wants it?’ I’ve been in the group for months and he still won’t give me a shot at his ass.” “Just because I wanna fuck doesn’t mean I wanna fuck you, Gary,” said Isaiah. “Now that you mention it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you get fucked,” said Ryan. “You only ever let us suck your dick. And you never return the favor.” There was a murmur throughout the room. Isaiah stood. “What are you trying to say?” he asked angrily. “You think I’m a fake?” “I think you’re lying,” said Gary. “I don’t think you got the bug at all.” Isaiah laughed in disbelief. “That’s ridiculous. Of course I do.” He looked at Ryan. “You know me, man. Tell them.” Ryan shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Well, I know we were in Vincent’s group together, but I never really heard you share about being poz. You mostly just listened.” “Like a voyeur,” said Gary. “He’s getting off on us but he don’t have the bug himself. He’s a fucking interloper!” “That’s enough,” said Dylan. “I know Isaiah. He started this group with me. I would know if he was a liar.” But he knew the truth from the way Isaiah avoided his gaze. He’d suspected it for a while now, though he’d hoped he was wrong. Hoped there was some other explanation for the distance that had grown between the two of them. Some other reason why every man had filled his pussy except the one man he wanted the most. “You guys are crazy,” said Isaiah. He got up and headed toward the door. “I’m out of here.” Gary put his hand up to stop him. “Not until you take one of our loads in your ass.” He smiled menacingly. “It’s the only way to be sure.” “Man, fuck you-” There was a knock at the door. The men looked at each other in confusion. “Who the hell is that?” asked Gary. “No idea,” said Dylan. “I wasn’t expecting anyone.” He walked over to the door and opened it to reveal Vincent, his face twisted in anger. “Vincent? What are you doing here?” The Asian man looked around the room, shooting dirty looks at the members of his now-extinct HIV support group. “I thought I might find you all here. I heard whispers of some perverted sex cult but I’d hoped it wasn’t true.” He glared at Dylan. “Well, I hope you’re happy. You’ve ruined any chance these men had of finding inner peace. Whore.” Isaiah went to speak but Dylan stopped him. “Hello, Vincent. I’m glad you stopped by. I was hoping you might get a chance to see us for yourself.” Vincent laughed scornfully. “Oh, I see it. What a great group you have here. A bunch of perverts who disgrace the dignity of people with AIDS.” Dylan shook his head. “No, Vincent. You’re the one that disgraces their dignity. Teaching them to be ashamed of themselves when all they want is the freedom to live their lives honestly.” “I never said they should be ashamed.” “But you did,” said Dylan. “You spin this web about how HIV is a death sentence, how these men are sick and dying. But I look around and all I see is life.” “You know what I think?” Ryan walked up to Vincent and shoved his finger in his chest. “I think you’re jealous.” “Hah… N-no,” Vincent stuttered. Ryan put his face in his, looking him up and down. “I know you, Vincent. And I know you’re terrified of sex. I think you look at us and you wish you could fuck the way we can. Tell me I’m wrong.” Vincent swallowed. “You’re wrong.” “So you don’t want this?” Ryan grabbed Vincent’s cock. “You don’t want to feel what it’s like to take a man’s cock raw, the way God intended? You don’t want to feel my cock sliding inside you, lubing you up with my cum as I go a second round?” Vincent was shaking where he stood. The men started to close in on him, their eyes glinting with hunger. “Of course not. I would never have sex without a condom. That would be incredibly dangerous to my health.” “Isn’t that what makes it so fucking fun?” said Gary. The old man burst into laughter, causing the rest of the men to laugh with him. “I… I don’t-” “No more talking.” Gary grabbed Vincent’s shirt and began pulling it over his head. “Time for fucking.” “What are you doing?” asked Vincent as Ryan began unbuttoning his pants. “You can’t… it’s not safe.” His eyes went wide as Ryan pulled his pants down to his ankles, revealing his fully erect cock poking out of his boxer briefs. “Looks like he’s ours, boys!” yelled Gary. The men descended on Vincent, stripping off the rest of his clothes as he cried out in a mix of fear and ecstasy. Soon he was on all fours, his mouth full of Gary’s cock while Ryan ripped open the back of his boxer briefs. He yelped when Ryan shoved himself inside him, causing the rest of the men to break out in cheer. “Poz that hole!” “Give it to him good!” “Infect him!” Dylan watched from the sidelines, a smile of satisfaction on his face as his final holdout gave himself over to their depravity. “Looks like you were right,” said Isaiah. He stood next to Dylan, watching Vincent’s deflowering unfold. “All we had to do was wait.” “You don’t want a turn on him?” asked Dylan. “A chance to infect the new guy?” Isaiah said nothing. Dylan sighed. “It’s true, then, isn’t it? You’re neg?” Isaiah took a deep breath. “Come with me. I want to explain.” He took him into the bedroom, away from the grunts and cries of satisfaction. He shut the door behind them, then slid down to his knees, burying his head in his hands. Dylan put his arms around him. “It’s all right, Isaiah. You don’t have to explain.” Isaiah looked up at him, tears in his eyes. “You don’t understand… I want to convert, I really do. I’m just… I’m just scared. I don’t want to be sick. I don’t want to die.” He covered his face with his hands and cried. “I’m a coward,” he sobbed. Dylan hugged him. “Oh, Isaiah.” He rubbed his back gently. “It’s okay. I understand why you’re afraid. There’s a lot of people out there telling us to be scared, that there’s no hope. But I’m telling you, there is.” He lifted Isaiah’s head. “Those men out there. Do they look sick to you? Are they dying?” Isaiah shook his head. “That’s because they’re free. They don’t feel ashamed to be who they are anymore. You don’t have to feel ashamed, either. If you take that plunge, if you accept the gift… you’ll be more alive than you’ve ever been. You’ve seen it happen to Ryan. Those men can give you that gift.” Isaiah looked at him sadly. “But… I don’t want it that way. I don’t want to be pozzed by all of them. I just want you.” “What do you mean?” He took Dylan’s hand and held it to his chest. “I don’t want to share this disease with anyone else. I want to know who gave it to me. I want that person to be you.” Dylan looked at him with wide eyes. “Why me?” “You made me see the world through a whole new light. I spent weeks going to that group because I was scared of the inevitable. I guess… I was trying to prepare myself for what my life would be like when I got the virus. But all I saw was sickness and sadness… until you.” He leaned his forehead against Dylan’s. “I don’t want the virus because I think I need it or because I want to get it over with. I want it because it’ll make me like you. I want it to be ours.” Dylan kissed him gently. “I want that too.” He stood and pulled Isaiah to his feet. “Will you let me share my gift with you?” Isaiah nodded. He kissed him hungrily, holding nothing back this time. Suddenly, the door burst open as Gary walked in, his cock rock hard and dripping as he held a panting Vincent by the back of the neck. “Figured we’d give our little pup a change of scenery,” Gary said with a grin. He threw Vincent on the bed, then climbed on top of him, dwarfing the man with his chubby frame. Vincent moaned as the old man plunged into his hole and started humping away. Dylan laughed. “Come on. I’ll take you to my place.” He kissed Isaiah on the cheek. “Besides, there’s something I want to show you.” They took a cab to his apartment on the Upper West Side. He held Isaiah’s hand the whole drive over, his stomach full of butterflies for what was about to come. When they walked through the door, Isaiah whistled. “Damn. How’d you swing a place like this?” Dylan just smiled and kissed him. He grabbed Isaiah’s hand and pulled him into the bedroom. Isaiah gasped when he saw what was in Dylan’s bed. Ed lay there in his pajamas, practically skin and bones. His eyes were vacant and hollow, and he wheezed slowly with every breath. “Who is this?” Isaiah asked in disbelief. Dylan sat on the edge of the bed and grabbed Ed’s hand. “This is my daddy.” Isaiah watched him nervously. Dylan brushed Ed’s cheek with his hand. “He’s the person who gave me life. But even though he gave it to me, he couldn’t accept it for himself.” “He… he’s dying of AIDS?” Dylan nodded. “It didn’t have to be that way. He could have accepted the gift, but he chose to live in denial. He chose to let the shame and guilt eat away at him.” He stood. “I won’t lie to you. If you take the gift, this could be your future. You could let the shame win and eat you from the inside out.” He grabbed Isaiah’s hand. “Or you could let it make you new again. Make you like me.” He intertwined his fingers with Isaiah’s hand, staring up at him with wide eyes. “What’ll it be?” Isaiah put his hand behind his head and kissed him. Dylan fell into the kiss, allowing Isaiah to pull off his clothes as Ed wheezed behind them. They disrobed completely until they were both beautifully, fully naked. “I want you to take me,” said Isaiah. He climbed on the bed, his stomach resting against Ed’s wasted legs as he presented his ass to Dylan. “Take me in your daddy’s bed.” Dylan smiled, his heart swelling with love. He spit on his hand, smearing his cock with saliva before plunging into Isaiah’s hole in one fell swoop. To Isaiah’s credit, he didn’t scream or make any noise of pain, although it had to have been painful. Dylan knew that the more torn up Isaiah was inside, the faster he would receive his gift. He made love to him, quickly but tenderly, until his cock was sliding back and forth unencumbered. He could see a bit of blood on his cock as he pounded Isaiah’s hole, knowing that this would only speed the process of conversion. He leaned over Isaiah’s back, pushing him into the bed and onto Ed. “I love you,” he whispered in his ear. “I love you so much, Isaiah.” He could feel the pressure in his balls rising as his breathing grew shallow. He’d never felt anything like this before, knowing that his DNA would mix with Isaiah’s, binding the two men together. They would be forever linked, joined in the lineage of all the heroes who came before them. Then in a moment of blinding pleasure, he felt that sweet, blessed release. “Take my seed!” he shouted, burying his cock in Isaiah’s hole. “Take my gift,” he panted, collapsing against Isaiah’s back. He lay there for several seconds, the room filled with the sound of the two men panting and Ed wheezing. Nothing had ever felt so right, being linked with his creator and the man he had created. They lay there for a while, still joined together as his seed took root deep inside of the man he loved. Finally, Isaiah rolled over underneath him, letting his cock fall out of his freshly seeded hole. He stared at him with tears in his eyes. “I love you too.”

Patient 3: Ed If there was one thing Ed hated, it was hospitals. He’d had tuberculosis as a kid, which caused his parents to ship him off to the Adirondack Cottage Sanitarium for almost a year. He was only five years old, forced to spend the year away from family and friends while surrounded by the sick and the dying. It was a miracle that he’d been able to survive at all, and once he returned home, he swore he’d never set foot in another hospital again. His time away made him feel like a stranger in his own family. Of course, this was only made worse by the realization that he liked boys a hell of a lot more than girls. At least he had the sense to keep that bit to himself. Aside from some careful experimentation with some of the boys at his prep school, he played his part perfectly–dating girls, sleeping around, and, in the case of his wife Helen, getting married. Like him, Helen came from a wealthy New York family. They met while Ed was studying for his law degree at Columbia University and got married immediately after graduation. He’d done the respectable thing, marrying and popping out a couple of kids before the age of 30. But his real life lay just beneath the surface, like the seedy underbelly of the city. The regular visits to the bathhouse to blow off some steam after work. The boys trips to the Adirondacks for a week of naked fun. The secret apartment on the Upper West Side where he took his conquests when he wanted a little bit of privacy. Helen didn’t know anything about all that, of course. To her, he was the perfect husband–a lawyer, father, and for the last seven years, a congressman representing Manhattan’s East Side. But now Helen was sick, hospitalized with some sort of ailment that meant that Ed had to break his 50-year vow and step foot into the one place he swore he’d never go. “You sure you don’t want me to call the kids?” he asked as she lay shivering in the hospital bed. “Maybe Susan can come and be with you.” She pursed her lips. “For heaven’s sake, Ed. I need you. Man up!” He bristled. She had some nerve asking him to come here and then insulting his manhood. There was a knock at the door. A doctor stood in the doorway with a pen and a clipboard. “Helen Green?” Ed’s wife sat up in bed, using tremendous effort to do so. “Do you know what’s wrong with me? What did the tests show?” The doctor put his pen behind his ear and frowned. “Your white blood cell count is high. Now, this is usually a sign that your body is fighting off some kind of infection. Unfortunately, we can’t determine what that infection is. You’ve tested negative for tuberculosis, your lungs are fine, we’ve ruled out allergies…” “Surely there are other tests you can run,” said Ed. “We certainly pay you people enough.” The doctor cleared his throat. “We’ve been seeing some cases with similar symptoms to yours in the last couple of years. Now, you’re not the usual demographic for this sort of thing, but I have to ask… do you think there’s any chance you might have come into contact with someone suffering from AIDS?” Ed’s face went red with anger. “Are you kidding? You think my wife has AIDS? What the hell kind of doctor are you, accusing her of such a thing!” Helen put her hand on Ed’s. “Honey, please calm down.” The doctor raised his hands. “I’m not trying to insinuate anything. We’re still not entirely sure how this thing spreads. It’s possible you could have caught it in passing–sharing a drink with someone who was infected, or-” “Absolutely not,” said Ed. “Hold on a minute,” said Helen. “I don’t even know what we’re talking about here. AIDS, did you say? What even is that?” The doctor raised his eyebrows. “You haven’t heard of AIDS?” She laughed in disbelief. “Well, I’m not a medical expert. Why would I know about all the various diseases out there?” “AIDS is a virus that attacks the immune system,” explained the doctor. “We’ve seen it mostly in intravenous drug users and… homosexuals.” Ed’s face went white. He could feel Helen’s eyes turn towards him. “That’s it,” he said firmly. “First you accuse my wife of having AIDS, now you accuse her of using drugs. I want you out of here and I want a different doctor working on her case.” “But-” “Now!” The doctor sighed, then left the room. Ed turned to Helen, his face flush with anger. “Can you believe him? Accusing you of-” “What is he talking about?” Her voice was quiet but serious. “Hm? What did he mean it attacks the immune system?” “It doesn’t matter because you don’t have it.” “But Ed-” “It’s probably Lyme disease! Remember that tick bite you had in the Hamptons a few years ago? You’ve probably been sick this whole time and the doctors just missed it.” “Ed-” “Tell them to test for Lyme disease. I’m going home.” He grabbed his coat. “I’ll call Susan and tell her to come visit you as soon as possible.” “I don’t want to bother-” “She’s our daughter. She’ll do what I tell her to.” Ed left in a hurry, his head pounding. The nerve of that fucking doctor. He should have known better than to make such baseless accusations against a US congressman. Ed would have his medical license, he’d make sure of it. He left his daughter a voicemail when he got home, telling her to get to the hospital as soon as possible to take care of her mother. Then he took a shower and went to bed, hoping to put this mess behind him for good. He awoke early in the morning covered in sweat, his body aching considerably. This had been happening more and more lately, probably due to stress. After all, it wasn’t easy representing the American people on a daily basis. First thing Monday morning he would have to be back in his New York office, hard at work drafting a new piece of legislation to repeal environmental protections. Then he was due back in DC the week after to present the bill to committee. Tonight, however, was a special treat. One Saturday night each month, Ed and a small group of influential power brokers would meet at a different location for a bit of revelry and fun. They always got the call at noon the day of, telling them where and when to be. They took turns arranging the entertainment for the night, finding various boys at the baths who wanted a bit of cash in exchange for a night of being used by New York’s finest. Just another perk of being the nation’s servant. Then noon came and went without a phone call. Concerned, he considered phoning his friend Bill and asking for the cause of the delay, but he didn’t want to appear desperate. Appearances still mattered, even for occasions such as these. But by 5 o’clock, he began to get worried. He needed to release some tension now more than ever. He couldn’t risk missing out on the night’s event just because someone forgot to phone him. So he dialed Bill’s private line and waited for a response. He could hear the sound of the phone getting picked up, then silence. “Hello? Bill, are you there?” He heard a sigh. “Tell me it isn’t true, Ed.” Ed’s blood ran cold. “What are you talking about? What have you heard?” “You know the rules. We decided as a group when this whole thing began. If any one of us got sick, we’d be out. No exceptions.” “I don’t know what you heard, but you’re wrong. I’m not sick. I’m not!” “Then why does Helen have AIDS?” Ed scoffed. “Who told you that? The doctor? He doesn’t know what he’s talking about! She’s got Lyme disease, I’m telling you-” “Helen called me herself. She got the test back this morning. It’s AIDS, Ed. And if she has it, you have it.” “You son of a bitch. I’m telling you, she’s wrong. I don’t have AIDS!” “Goodbye, Ed.” “Wait!” Ed gripped the phone tightly. “You can’t kick me out. I know too much.” “Oh, Ed.” Bill laughed. “You know that won’t work. We got your collateral, remember? To prevent exactly this kind of thing.” Ed cursed himself. Of course, that photo with the young man from Rochester. He’d even posed for it willingly, certain it was all just a lark. They’d never actually have to use it. What a fool he’d been. “Oh, and if you know what’s good for you, you might want to consider resigning.” He scoffed. “Excuse me?” “Think about what’s best for the country, Ed. No one wants a congressman with AIDS.” The sound of the dial tone filled his ears. He hung up the phone, his face slack with shock. How could this be happening to him? He didn’t have AIDS–he couldn’t have it. There had to be some kind of mistake. He picked up the phone and dialed the hospital. He needed to sort this mess out with Helen before it went any further. “Mount Sinai, how can I help you?” “I need to talk to my wife, Helen Green. She’s in room 815.” “One moment.” He waited with bated breath. Then he heard his daughter’s voice. “She doesn’t wanna talk to you, Dad.” “Put your mother on the phone, Susan. Now.” “Dad, no. She needs to rest-” “Dammit, Susan! I am your father, you will obey me!” Susan scoffed. “Are you kidding me? After what you did to her, you’re trying to hold onto the moral high ground?” “I didn’t do anything-” “They tested her for AIDS, Dad. She’s positive. You made her sick with your perversion!” “I did no such thing!” he yelled. “If your mother has AIDS, it’s because she cheated on me! I’m the victim here!” Susan laughed wryly. “Okay, Dad. Keep telling yourself that.” “Susan, wait–please, let me speak to her.” “Dad… I’m only telling you this because I love you. This thing is serious. Mom’s really sick. You need to get tested.” “I’m fine,” he said angrily. “I don’t need anything at all because I don’t have AIDS.” “Goodbye, Dad.” He sat down in shock. First his wife, then Bill, now his daughter? Had everyone betrayed him? After everything he did for them? The secrets he kept for Bill. The life he’d given his wife and daughter, all of the money and the fancy vacations. Now they wanted to drop him, just like that. Well, fuck them. He wouldn’t go without a fight. He pulled out his Rolodex and started calling his contacts in the group. He was going to find out where tonight’s meeting was one way or another. Each number he dialed went straight to voicemail. He knew better than to leave a message, so he simply told them to call him back and reached for the next number on his list. By the time he cycled through all the numbers without a single response, he began to get angry. “If they won’t answer me, I’ll just find a boy myself.” He pulled out the number for that hot Latin boy he’d met at the baths last summer. Dario had been an awesome lay, and even introduced Ed to the pleasure of bottoming, something he hadn’t allowed himself to experience since the notion had always been an affront to his manhood. But even he didn’t answer the phone. Ed slammed the phone down in rage. Not for the first time, he lamented that the baths had been shut down the previous October. He’d taken for granted how easy it had been to get a nut off whenever he wanted. Cruising was so much effort, especially when you were trying to remain discreet. You couldn’t risk a friend or colleague seeing you following some guy on the street into his apartment building for an early afternoon lay. The West Side piers were his last resort. He didn’t like paying for sex, and he certainly didn’t want to catch the kinds of things those guys might be carrying, but sometimes you did what you had to do. He drove down to the piers just after ten, cruising slowly by as he perused the selection. Tonight looked like a particularly rough crowd, mostly junkies and a few ragged-looking ones that were most certainly not Ed’s type. He liked the smooth, innocent boys, like the painting of Saint Sebastian that he used to stare at in Catholic school. A guy who was missing at least four teeth banged on his window. “What are you looking for?” he slurred. He grinned. “Want me to make your dreams come true?” Ed hit the gas and sped away. No way in hell would he stoop this low. He would have to find another way. But the next day, his horniness was starting to drive him wild. He needed to get laid and he needed it now. He even tried cruising, though he was so out of practice he was certain he’d scared several young men into thinking they were being stalked. He gave up and spent the rest of the afternoon at home, feeling sorry for himself. He decided to give the piers one more try, arriving at sunset this time in the hopes that maybe the earlier crowd would be more palatable. But it was the same as yesterday–a group of freaks and vagrants, no one Ed would dare to stick his cock in even with how horny he was feeling. He was just about to give up and head home for the night when he saw him. A curly-haired boy sat on the curb, shivering in a sheepskin jean jacket. He looked to be about 18 or 19, strangely out of place among the more seasoned crowd. Ed pulled up beside him and rolled down the window. “Hey,” he said smoothly. But before he could say anything else, the boy’s eyes grew wide and he began hurrying away. Ed drove after him. “What the hell, man? I’m just talking to you.” The young man shook his head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done this. This was a mistake.” “Hold on a minute.” The boy stopped and looked warily at him. Ed put the car in park and opened the side door. “Come on. You look cold, get in.” The young man’s eyes began to well with tears. “I shouldn’t.” “It’s okay, sweetie. I’m not gonna hurt you. All I wanna do is talk.” He pulled out a $20 bill. “Here, I’ll even pay you for your time. You don’t have to do anything but talk. Okay?” The boy nodded. He took the $20 and walked around the car, climbing in the passenger seat beside Ed. “Let me find us someplace private we can chat,” said Ed. He turned the corner and drove a couple of blocks before parking in an alleyway. “What’s your name?” The young man didn’t answer. He was practically shaking in his seat. “You don’t have to be afraid of me, son. Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong?” The boy was absolutely beautiful, with pale skin and big doe eyes. Ed couldn’t help but put his hand on the boy’s leg, softly rubbing him. “I thought I could do it,” said the boy. “You know… but I chickened out.” He buried his head in his hands. “I just didn’t know what else to do. I only just moved here a few months ago-” “You an actor?” asked Ed. He looked up and nodded. “I thought so. You’ve got a face for it.” He brushed the boy’s chin with his thumb. The boy blushed. “But then I ran out of money, and when I got kicked out of my apartment, I… I didn’t know what else to do.” His eyes started to well up with tears again. “Aww, it’s okay, baby.” Ed put his arm around the boy and held him to his chest. “Don’t cry. You’re too pretty to cry.” He put his nose in the boy’s hair, breathing in his scent. God, this kid was an angel. “I can’t go home,” the boy said with a sniffle. “My parents kicked me out when they found out I was gay. I’d finished high school, so I figured a big city would be the best place to go… but I just don’t know what to do.” “Hey,” said Ed. “I don’t want you to worry about a thing. You hear me?” He wiped away the young man’s tears. “I’ve got a place you can stay for the night.” “You don’t have to do that-” “It’s nothing. A little one-bedroom on the Upper West Side. I keep it for boys like you who, uh, need a little bit of help now and again.” The young man’s eyes went wide. “Really? You would do that for me?” Ed smiled. “For those eyes? I’d do anything.” The boy blushed. “It’s Dylan. My name.” Ed brought the boy’s hand to his lips and kissed it. “Nice to meet you, Dylan. I’m Ed.” He drove Dylan to his apartment, parking in his reserved spot in the indoor parking garage. Truth be told, it wasn’t so much an apartment where he hosted young men in need as it was a place he could fuck his conquests without interruption. It was a modest little apartment, but he’d gone all out in a lush, king-sized bed. After all, you gotta spend money where you need it. “Let me take that.” He grabbed Dylan’s jacket and hung it on a hook beside the door. “Make yourself comfortable. You want something to drink?” “Maybe a coke?” Ed grabbed a can of coke from the fridge and poured it over a glass of ice. He added a little rum and handed it to Dylan. Dylan took a sip, then coughed. “Thought you’d like it a little strong,” Ed said with a wink. “You’re 18, right?” Dylan nodded. “Why are you being so nice to me?” He sat on the couch, setting the drink down on the coffee table in front of him. Ed sat next to him. “Well, I suppose I can’t help it. When I see a boy like you in need, it makes my heart hurt.” He put his arm around him, pulling the boy in just a little bit closer. Dylan smiled, then took another sip of his drink. “This place is so nice. I can’t imagine living somewhere like this.” “This is what you get when you work hard for a living. I’m sure you’ll live someplace just as nice when you become a famous actor.” Dylan giggled. “I don’t know about all that.” “Aw, come on. I could tell right away how talented you are. How handsome…” He put his hand on Dylan’s leg again, rubbing the inside of his thigh. Dylan looked up at him, those wide doe eyes full of innocence. “You’re really handsome, too.” Ed softly rubbed the boy’s cheek. “What I wouldn’t give to be with a guy like you. That’s why I talked to you down at the pier. I’d never done anything like that before, hire someone for sex. But I saw you when I was driving by and… I don’t know… it was like something came over me.” Dylan gulped. He was breathing heavily, his lip shaking. “You really think I’m handsome?” Ed put his thumb on Dylan’s lip and pulled it open slightly. “Baby, you’re the sweetest thing I think I’ve ever seen.” He kissed Dylan softly, careful to take his time with the boy. He wouldn’t be surprised if the kid was a virgin, he seemed so nervous. But he’d deflowered plenty of virgins in his day, so he knew just how to handle him. Don’t come on too strong, take things slow, and make sure to use plenty of lube. If everything went right, he’d have Dylan eating out of the palm of his hand. He kissed Dylan on the neck, holding the back of the boy’s head as he climbed on top of him. “Oh, Daddy,” moaned Dylan. He pulled Dylan’s shirt over his head, revealing his soft white skin and light pink nipples. His skin was completely unblemished, a perfectly pure canvas, purer than Saint Sebastian. He took one of Dylan’s nipples into his mouth, licking and sucking it hungrily as the boy moaned beneath him. His hands fiddled with the button of Dylan’s jeans, eager to release the boy’s stiffening rod underneath. He pulled off the boy’s jeans, revealing the young man’s hardness poking through a pair of light blue briefs. He buried his face in Dylan’s dick, rubbing his nose against it and inhaling the man scent that he loved so very much. He could feel Dylan’s hands in his hair as he pulled the boy’s briefs down to expose his rigid cock. It was beautiful and leaking, about 5” long, and buried under a soft patch of light brown pubic hair. “Oh, baby,” said Ed. He licked the underside of Dylan’s cock, making the boy moan. Then he enveloped it in his mouth, taking the entire thing down to the root. Dylan let out a small cry, his hands kneading Ed’s hair as the pleasure overwhelmed him. There was nothing Ed loved more than driving a boy wild with his tongue before opening him up with his big fat cock. He pulled Dylan’s briefs off all the way, then lifted his legs to gain access to the smooth, hairless hole underneath. He lovingly lapped the outside of the boy’s hole with his tongue, making him whimper. Then he spread his cheeks and dove in tongue first, readying his hole for the taking. “Daddy, that feels so good,” moaned Dylan. Ed took his time eating him out, wanting the boy as eager as possible to get fucked. When his hole felt nice and loose, Ed stood and held out his hand. “Come to bed with me, baby.” Dylan took his hand, following him shyly to the bedroom. Ed picked him up, kissing him softly as he carried him to the bed. He set him down gently, then unbuckled his belt as Dylan watched in anticipation. He pulled off his pants and underwear, causing Dylan to gasp at the sight of his thick, turgid cock. Ed climbed on the bed and kissed Dylan on the neck. “I know baby, I know.” He reached into the nightstand and pulled out a bottle of lube, lathering up his cock. Then he poured some on his fingers and slipped them into Dylan’s hole, making the boy whimper once more. “Should–shouldn’t we use a condom?” asked Dylan. He was looking up at Ed nervously. Ed shook his head. “No, baby. You don’t have anything to worry about. I would never hurt you.” He smiled at him, his fingers still working open the boy’s hole. Dylan nodded. He spread his legs, revealing that sweet, smooth hole. “Okay,” he said timidly. Ed climbed on top of him, kissing him softly as he lifted the boy’s legs back. Then he grabbed his cock, aimed it at the promised land, and began to push. “Ugh… it hurts,” whined Dylan. “Shhh…” said Ed. “You can do this. Be strong for Daddy, okay? I promise it’ll feel good.” He pushed in a little bit further, slipping the head of his cock inside Dylan’s tight hole. He could feel a pop as the head lodged itself inside. Then he slowly pushed forward, feeling every inch of the boy’s guts as he penetrated him. “Oh god… it’s so big,” said Dylan. “Go slow, okay?” “You’re doing so good, baby. Just a little further.” He pushed his cock even farther before he hit a wall. He was still only about two-thirds of the way in. “Go ahead and lean back for me baby,” Ed said as he took Dylan’s legs in his hands. “I just need to get a little deeper.” He pushed Dylan’s legs back until the boy’s ass was slightly off the bed. Then he slid in deeper, sliding past Dylan’s second ring and into his colon. “Oof… oh god, it’s so deep.” Dylan’s lip trembled. “Are you… are you all the way in?” Ed nodded. “I’m all the way in, baby. Now let Daddy fuck you, okay?” He began to slowly saw into Dylan, pumping in and out of that sweet boy’s rectum. The kid’s hole was tight as a drum, so tight that Ed was convinced he had to be a virgin. How lucky was he, finding an angel like this just begging for a Daddy to take care of him? With an ass like this at his disposal, Ed was more than happy to give the boy whatever he wanted. “Oof.. ugh… oh Ed, that feels so good…” Dylan had his fingers pressed against Ed’s chest, tracing through his chest hair. Ed leaned down and kissed him, tasting his sweet tongue as he defiled his insides. He was leaking so much precum into the boy that his cock was gliding freely now. He was sweating profusely, his skin burning like it was on fire. Must be from lust, of course. “Baby… Daddy’s gonna cum now, okay?” Ed kissed Dylan on the cheek, then held him close as he unloaded inside the boy’s sweet hole. He had always been a big cummer, and now was no exception. He could feel his cum spilling out around his cock as the boy’s rectum struggled to contain all the love he had to give. “Oh… oh wow…” moaned Dylan. His eyelashes were fluttering in such a cute way. Ed leaned down and kissed him gently on his eyelids, then pulled out and laid beside him, spent. It was nice feeling the boy cuddle up to him, resting his head on Ed’s hairy chest. Moments like these were rare for Ed–he usually had to make way for the next guy at the sex party to use whoever was the night’s entertainment. But this time he held Dylan close, breathing in the boy’s scent and softly stroking his skin as his cock deflated. He awoke hours later, drenched in sweat. For a moment, he thought he was with Helen, but then he felt Dylan’s soft breathing against his chest. His hard cock was still nestled in between Dylan’s soft ass cheeks. Strangely, he realized he’d never actually spent the night here before. Usually, he had to be back before his wife got suspicious. Now that the bitch had betrayed him, he could stay as long as he liked. His skin was on fire, so he leaned over and turned the AC on full blast. Then he kissed Dylan’s neck, making the boy moan in his sleep. He reached down and pulled open his cheeks, slipping easily inside him. It took the boy a few seconds of being fucked to wake up, but by then Ed was deep inside him and ready to plant his seed once more. He lay there like an angel and let Ed use him, murmuring “Daddy” every few seconds as Ed stroked his cute little cock. By the time he filled him again, he could feel the young man’s seed dribbling through his fingers. Ed must have fallen back asleep again, because the next thing he knew the sunlight was streaming in through the windows and Dylan was blowing him under the covers. He slipped the blanket off the boy’s head to reveal his curly brown hair bobbing up and down. “Good morning, baby.” Dylan popped Ed’s cock out of his pretty pink lips and smiled. “Good morning. I just wanted to thank you again for letting me stay here.” Ed pulled him in for a kiss. “You can stay here as long as you like, lover.” And thus commenced the third load that Ed planted inside of his new sweetheart. By the time he left the apartment that morning, kissing his paramour goodbye with promises to swing by again later, he was practically smitten. Ed wasn’t the type to grow attached so quickly. But with the trauma of being unfairly kicked out of the sex club and having nowhere else to turn for release, he felt like karma was finally rewarding him. The enchantment proved short-lived when he arrived at his office to find his staff in the middle of packing everything up. “What the hell is going on here?” he asked angrily. His staff looked bewildered to see him. Ron, his chief of staff, cleared his throat and asked, “Uh, sir… what are you doing here?” “What do you mean, what am I doing here? It’s my office, isn’t it?” Ron exchanged a glance with Ed’s secretary. “Uh… I mean, it was, sir. Before you resigned.” His nostrils began to flare. “What on God’s green Earth are you talking about?” “Bill called,” explained Ron. “He told us about Helen, how she was sick… I’m so sorry about that, sir. He- he said that you were resigning so you could take care of her, that you were staying home today to draft your letter of resignation, and that we should pack up your office while you were gone. Is that… not true, sir?” He ground his teeth. So, this was how they were playing it, was it? Trying to edge him out of a job and the club all in one go. Well, they couldn’t get rid of him that easily. “I want you to take those boxes right now and-” He was interrupted by the sound of the phone ringing on his desk. His secretary answered it, then held it out to him. “It’s for you, sir.” He grabbed the phone from her. “Hello?” he said gruffly. “The only thing you should be doing in that office is turning in your letter of resignation.” His heart skipped a beat. “Bill? What the hell is this?” He turned away from his staff and cupped the phone against his mouth. “Are you having me followed?” “We wanted to make sure you didn’t do anything foolish. Seems like we were right to be worried.” “I don’t know what you think I’m-” “I want you to listen very carefully to me.” Bill’s voice was calm, but chilling. “You are going to hang up the phone. You are going to sit down at your desk and fill out a letter of resignation, which you will then fax to Speaker O’Neill. You will not disobey or your collateral will be released. You will not breathe a word about our organization or your collateral will be released. Do you understand?” “But you-” “Do you understand, Ed?” His blood was boiling. He wanted to scream, but that would ruin the only thing he had left: his dignity. “Yes.” “Great. My best to Helen.” He set down the phone and looked at his staff, who were all staring at him warily. He was sweating profusely, his skin feverish. He wiped his brow. “Right, well, clearly you’ve all heard about my wife. Very sad… advanced Lyme disease, you know. Have to do what’s best for my family.” “Of course,” said Ron. “Why don’t you go ahead and draft that letter of resignation for me? I should head to the hospital. Check on her.” “All right,” said Ron. “Do you want me to-” “I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” Ed was already on his way out the door. He walked back to his car, the blood pumping in his ears. He couldn’t believe how much he’d lost in just a few short hours. Of course, it wasn’t like he needed the congressional salary. Thank God for being independently wealthy. And he had done good work in Congress, successfully cutting taxes for the wealthy and eliminating wasteful spending on food stamps and childcare subsidies. But the principle of the thing was appalling. He didn’t have AIDS, dammit! He couldn’t. He had only bottomed that one time. Well, okay, a few times… but only with Dario. And Dario wasn’t sick. So how could he be sick? Helen cheating on him was the only explanation. She’d tried to ruin his life to cover her own guilt. Fucking cunt. He decided to treat himself to make up for the shitty afternoon he was having. Well, to treat his new boytoy, as it were. He stopped at Victoria’s Secret on the way home and browsed through their selection. He got hard as a rock seeing his boys in lingerie and leaped at the chance to spoil his lover. He dropped a couple of hundred dollars on a few thongs and lace bikini briefs (“a little surprise for my wife’s birthday”) and headed back to the apartment. Dylan was in the shower when he arrived. Ed opened the door to the bathroom to see the boy’s smooth white back and those beautiful, plump ass cheeks. He quickly disrobed and climbed in with him. “Mm, hi.” Dylan wrapped his arms around Ed’s back, kissing him deeply. “How was your day?” “Better now that I’m with you,” said Ed. He turned off the water and grabbed the young man’s quickly growing cock. “Come with me. I have something to show you.” Dylan was ecstatic when Ed showed him what he’d bought. “I love it!” he squealed. “Oh God, I’ve always wanted to wear stuff like this…” He picked up one of the lace bikini briefs and traced it with his fingers. “I was just too afraid my parents would find out.” Ed grabbed Dylan’s towel and pulled it off, letting it fall to the side. He got down on his knees and kissed the boy’s ass. “Come on–I wanna see you in one of the thongs.” Dylan modeled the lingerie for him, sliding the silky fabric up his smooth legs and giving Ed a little strut in the bedroom. His ass looked so hot in the thongs, so round and juicy that he’d barely gotten to the second pair of panties when Ed picked him up and carried him into the bedroom. “Don’t you wanna see the rest, Daddy?” Dylan giggled. “Daddy needs to be inside you.” He tossed the boy onto the bed and spread his legs, pulling away the thong strap to gain access to that hidden treasure within. He ate him out like his life depended on it, spurred on by the boy’s moans and whimpers. Before long he was balls deep inside of his lover once more. Even with the AC still running, he was sweating up a storm. He mounted Dylan from behind and fucked him fast and deep, watching the boy’s ass cheeks jiggle with every smack. God, he looked so good in that thong. He’d have to take him shopping sometime soon, really spoil him. After only a couple of minutes, he collapsed on Dylan’s back, shuddering as he implanted his seed deep inside of the boy. His skin was slick with sweat, and he could hardly move he was so exhausted. He rolled off of him and soon fell asleep. When he awoke again, Dylan was gone. He sat up groggily, temporarily confused. Where was he, again? Then it came back to him–the incident at the office, the phone call with Bill. He sat up, rubbing his eyes. He hadn’t felt this out of it in ages. Old age catching up with him, he supposed. He got out of bed and walked into the living room, flicking on the light. A pink suitcase lay on the couch that he didn’t recognize. Dylan’s, probably. Everything the boy owned must have been in that thing. Poor kid. He debated opening it but held himself back. There are some things you just don’t want to know about people. He didn’t need to see the boy’s dirty laundry or sad little trinkets from home. All he needed was that mouth and sweet, sweet boy hole. The sound of keys in the door made him turn. Dylan walked in carrying a brown paper bag. “Oh, you’re up!” He set the bag down on the counter before walking over to kiss Ed. “Thought I’d grab us dinner,” he said with a grin. “How’d you pay for it?” asked Ed. Dylan smiled shyly. “I used the money you gave me yesterday. I figured it was the least I could do to thank you for everything.” Ed brushed the boy’s hair back and kissed him on the forehead. “I don’t want you spending a cent on me. I gave that money for you to treat yourself. Don’t go worrying about little old me, okay? Here-” He grabbed his wallet off the coffee table and pulled out two $100 bills. “Use this to get yourself something pretty. I’ll be back tomorrow and I’ll bring you some more.” Dylan’s eyes went wide. “Oh, Ed… that’s so much money. I don’t-” “Nonsense.” Ed lifted Dylan’s chin and kissed him. “I like taking care of my boy.” The look on Dylan’s face was worth ten times the money. He kissed him again, pulling him onto his naked lap. His hands slid underneath the boy’s shorts, and soon they were both naked with Dylan riding Ed’s cock once again. He squeezed the boy’s chest, thrusting himself high up into him. What was happening to him? He hadn’t been able to go this many times in a row in years. Something about the boy brought it out of him. After he’d deposited yet another load in Dylan’s hole, they cuddled naked in the living room, eating takeout and watching Cheers. Before he knew it it was almost 10 o’clock. “I gotta go, baby.” He kissed Dylan on the head and started pulling on his clothes. “You be a good boy and I’ll swing by tomorrow.” “Okay, Daddy.” He kissed Dylan goodbye, then drove back to his apartment on the Upper East Side. He was exhausted and couldn’t wait to slip into bed and pass out for the night. But when he tried to unlock the door to his apartment, his key wouldn’t work. “What the fuck?” he murmured. He tried his key again, but it still wouldn’t work. Then he noticed the doorknob had changed–where before it was gold, it was now bronze. He banged on the door. “Who’s in there? Open up!” He heard hushed whispering, then silence. The door opened to reveal his daughter, Susan. “What do you want, Dad?” “What do I want? What are you doing in my apartment? And why are the locks changed?” She stepped outside and closed the door behind her. “Mom’s back from the hospital. There’s nothing more they can do for her.” His heart sank. “Is she–?” “She doesn’t wanna see you. Now please, just go.” “I will not!” he said defiantly. “This is my apartment.” “Dad-” The door opened slowly behind Susan. Helen stood there, looking pale and waif-like in a satin robe. “It’s all right, Susan,” she said weakly. “But Mom-” “Let your father and I talk.” She nodded at Susan, who walked back into the apartment and shut the door behind her. “I demand to know the meaning of this,” Ed began, but Helen shook her head. “Don’t, Ed. Enough lying. I know all about your little club, your depravity.” His eyes went wide. “I don’t know what you’re-” “Just save it. I’ve known for ages. And I didn’t mind, because you were discreet. Whose husband doesn’t keep secrets? You were always faithful in the ways that mattered.” She coughed weakly. “But now look at me. What do I have to show for my loyalty? You’ve brought down more than just yourself–you’ve brought down the both of us.” She looked at him with disgust. “I won’t let you bring any more shame to this family.” “Now, listen here-” “Unless you want me to spill your secrets to the whole floor, you’ll leave. I’ll arrange for your things to be sent wherever you like. Maybe to that little apartment across town you think I don’t know about.” She opened the door and looked back at him, her face full of disdain. “Goodbye, Ed.” She shut the door behind her. He had half his mind made up to bang on the door and demand to be let in when he heard the sound of a door opening down the hall. His next-door neighbor was leaning out of his doorway, staring at him with a raised eyebrow. “Everything alright, Ed?” He took a deep breath. “It’s fine, Hank.” “You sure? We heard yelling-” “Why don’t you mind your own goddamn business and let me mind mine!” He strode back over to the elevator and hit the button for the parking garage. When Dylan opened the door, he had a confused smile on his face. “Ed? What are you doing back?” He pushed past Dylan and started pacing around the apartment. “Fucking bitch. Thinks she can get rid of me. Me!” “Who? What are you talking about?” He turned and glared at Dylan. “My wife! Wants to kick me out of my own apartment. After everything I’ve done for her. Selfish cunt.” “Oh no.” Dylan put his arms around him. “I’m so sorry.” The boy’s touch felt good on his body. But his blood was boiling with anger, and he wasn’t in the mood to calm down. He wanted to hurt something. “Come here, you little slut.” He grabbed Dylan’s arm and pulled him into the bedroom. “Oh!” Dylan followed him, eyes wide with fear. “On the bed. Now!” Dylan obeyed, sitting on the bed as Ed began unbuckling his belt. “I’m sorry about-” “Turn around.” Dylan got on his hands and knees, his ass pushed out to receive his punishment. Ed grabbed his shorts and ripped them down to his ankles. Dylan had put on one of the lace pairs of bikini briefs, a light blue color that made his white ass look so fucking delicious. Ed folded his belt in half, then ran it slowly across Dylan’s ass cheek. “Daddy, what- AH!” The boy squealed as Ed smacked him across the bottom with his belt. It left a red mark on his pale white skin. “Quiet, boy.” He spanked him again, using one hand to grip Dylan’s waist and hold him in place for the beating. He spanked him several more times, leaving big red marks along the boy’s ass and upper legs. At first, Dylan was whimpering, but he soon began moaning as Ed spanked him with the belt. By the time Ed had dealt a dozen blows, Dylan was thrusting his ass back to meet the belt. Ed stripped off the lace panties and crouched behind his boy. He spit in his hand and rubbed it on his cock, then thrust angrily inside Dylan’s hole. Like a good whore, Dylan didn’t complain at all. He took his punishment with nothing but enthusiastic approval. Ed rutted inside him until he came with a loud groan. By the time he came, he was in love. From then on, Ed and Dylan lived together in that little apartment. Dylan never asked about what happened with Ed’s wife that night, and Ed made no effort to explain. He couldn’t confess the real reason he had lost everything, the false accusation that threatened to tear apart what little remained of Ed’s life. If Dylan knew that there was even a chance Ed had AIDS (or HIV, as they were now starting to call it), he might abandon Ed too. Without his job and his family, Ed’s life began to revolve more and more around Dylan. He spent his days golfing or working out, too embarrassed to admit he didn’t have anything better to do. Then he’d stop at a luxury store on the way home to buy Dylan a new pair of shoes or the latest designer bag. When Dylan got the flu a month into their love affair, he found he was actually a pretty good nursemaid, bringing him cold compresses and making him chicken noodle soup. As long as he wasn’t at a hospital, he didn’t mind taking care of his boy. Through all of it, they fucked like rabbits, Ed dressing his boytoy up in thongs and garters and fucking him like they were trying for a baby. But things started to take a turn with Ed’s health around Christmas 1986. He was getting weaker and weaker, barely able to make it through one round of golf before he needed to go home and sleep. He was constantly waking up in the middle of the night covered in sweat, and he’d had fevers on and off as long as he could remember. His pants were starting to fit loose, too, although he attributed that to good diet and exercise. Dylan begged him to go to a doctor and get checked out, but he refused. He’d rather die than go back to a hospital. By March, he was so sick he could barely get out of bed. Then it was Dylan’s turn to play nursemaid, making him soup and using his credit cards to buy groceries and medicine. He considered calling his daughter or his wife, but he held off, still angry with them for their betrayal. Dylan was the only one who cared about him, and that was all he needed. “Are you sure you don’t want to go to the doctor?” Dylan asked one day in late March. They were lying in bed together, watching TV. Ed was thin as a rail, with protruding veins and some ghastly purple bruising that wouldn’t go away. Bedsores, probably. “No doctors,” said Ed. He turned his attention to the television, which was displaying the nightly news. “The FDA has just approved the first medication used to treat AIDS,” said the news anchor. “An antiretroviral drug named AZT initially developed to treat cancer has been shown to block the virus’ activity.” With enormous effort, Ed sat up in bed. His eyes were glued to the screen. “You okay?” asked Dylan. He opened his mouth to say something, then stopped himself. How could he say anything without admitting what he so desperately didn’t want to be true? “Could you go to the store for me?” he asked. “I could use another ice pack. My card-” “I know, I’ve got it,” said Dylan. He kissed Ed on the forehead before leaving. Once Ed was sure he heard the sound of the door closing, he picked up the phone and dialed. The phone felt heavier than ever in his hand as it rang. “Well. I didn’t expect to hear from you anytime soon.” “Bill…” Ed’s voice was raspy. “God, you sound terrible.” “I need your help. Please.” He gripped the phone tightly. “You’re not getting back in-” “I don’t want back in. I need you to get something for me. It’s a drug called AZT. Have you heard of it?” “Yes, I’ve heard of it. Why can’t you get it yourself?” Ed looked down at his veiny, wasted body. The purple splotches covered his arms like bruises. “I can’t be seen like this. Please, you have contacts. Just have someone order it for me and deliver it to my place on the Upper West Side.” Bill sighed. “Alright, Bill. Just this once. Then I don’t want to hear from you again, are we clear?” Ed waited day and night for the drugs to arrive. He was becoming forgetful, continually asking Dylan what day it was and where he was. In his lucid moments, he remembered he needed to intercept the package before it arrived, but he was afraid he would forget he’d even ordered it. Finally, once a month had passed, he plucked up the courage to ask Dylan about it. “Dylan?” He was lying in bed while Dylan was making dinner in the kitchen. He cleared his voice and called again louder. “Dylan!” Dylan walked in, wiping his hands on a towel. “What’s up?” “Have you gotten a package from anyone?” Dylan furrowed his brow. “Are you expecting anything?” “Just some medicine.” Dylan’s eyes brightened. “Oh!” He pulled a small bottle out of his pocket. “You mean this?” Ed’s eyes went wide. “Is that… how did you get that?” Dylan took out a pill and popped it into his mouth. “It’s a miracle, isn’t it? Been taking it for a few weeks now and I feel right as rain.” “But… how did you know…” “That you have AIDS?” Dylan laughed. “Come on. It wasn’t that hard to tell. I mean, look at you!” He walked over and sat at the foot of the bed. “Of course, I knew you had AIDS ages ago. Before I even met you, actually.” Ed blinked. “What… what are you talking about?” Dylan sighed. “Oh, my poor, sweet Daddy. Do you really think it was a coincidence I was there at the pier that night? Just some sad, lonely boy from Oklahoma whose parents kicked him out for being gay? I can’t believe you fell for that story, by the way. I might be a great fuck but I’m a pretty shit storyteller. Still, you ate it up.” He pulled the sheets off the bed, revealing Ed’s wasted, veiny body. He climbed on top of him and ran his hands along his chest. He leaned in close to Ed’s ear and whispered, “You know your secret sex club of high-powered people you think nobody knows about? I’m part of it, Ed.” He sat up and sighed. “Well, I was, actually. Then I decided to go freelance. See, when they burned you, they told us boys not to talk to you if you reached out to any of us. Said you had AIDS and you were persona non grata. I’d never even met you before–you were out of town the night I was the star of the show. But when I heard about you and your situation, I knew it was an opportunity waiting for the taking.” Ed’s stomach sank. He felt like he was going to be sick. But Dylan was grinding on top of him, and despite his fear and revulsion, he could feel himself getting hard. Dylan lifted his hands and spread them out like he was reading from a marquee. “Think about it: lonely old man gets kicked out of sex club because he has AIDS. Nowhere else to turn for relief. Isn’t a guy like that the easiest kind of mark you can think of?” He looked down at Ed in pity. “They were laughing at you, Ed. They saw how you went to the piers and debased yourself, desperate for sex. I knew that if I dangled myself in front of you, you would give me anything I wanted. Shoes, clothes, a place to stay, cash. It was all so easy.” Dylan grabbed Ed’s hard cock through his pajama pants. “Even now, you’re still aching for me, aren’t you?” He pulled down Ed’s pants, then shimmied off his shorts and climbed back on top of him. “Then when you got sicker you just gave me your card, which was so stupid by the way. Do you know how much shit I’ve bought on your dime?” Ed swallowed, his throat dry. “I don’t understand,” he said hoarsely. “If you knew I had AIDS, why would you-” “Have sex with you?” Dylan reached back and lined Ed’s cock up with his hole, then sank down slowly. Ed stifled a groan. “I know I should have been scared of getting AIDS, but why bother? I mean, we’re all gonna get it eventually.” Dylan was gyrating on his cock, working his dick with those damn pussy muscles. “I figured, why not bite the bullet and get it when I want to? Take control of my destiny, you know what I mean? Especially when it comes with all these delicious perks.” Dylan moaned as Ed’s cock rubbed up against his prostate. He rode him harder, his hands tightly gripping Ed’s wasted chest. “Even now, all sickly and frail, you still drive me wild.” Ed began to groan as his body betrayed him, releasing his sperm into Dylan’s deceitful hole. Dylan grinned, his eyes mocking. He slid off of Ed and pulled his shorts back on. Ed spotted the bottle of AZT on the nightstand. He lifted his hand and pointed weakly. Dylan smiled. “Would you like some? Sorry, there’s not really enough to go around.” He grabbed the bottle and held it out of Ed’s reach. “But don’t worry. I’m gonna take good care of you. Plenty of food, water, and bed rest. No medicine needed.” He walked over to the door, slipping the bottle of pills back into his pocket. Ed’s mouth was dry as he called out, “Wait.” Dylan turned. “Yes?” Ed swallowed. “H-hospital…” Dylan laughed again, cruelly this time. “Oh, now you want a hospital?” He stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame as he smiled sweetly. “Don’t you worry, Ed. We’re gonna beat this thing the old-fashioned way!”

Patient 2: Dario It started out with a cough. At first, Dario thought it was a cold that just wouldn’t go away. But when it lasted through the winter and well into the spring, he began to get worried. He felt tired almost all the time. He could barely make it through a workout without feeling out of breath. He tried going to the hospital, but they dismissed his symptoms without a second glance. “It’s probably allergies,” said the nurse. “Take some Benadryl and you’ll be fine.” He didn’t tell them his real fear. The fear that he’d been carrying with him the last couple of years, ever since he’d first heard about the gay plague that was terrorizing his community. Could it be true? Could he have AIDS? He’d been careful, he tried to reassure himself. He’d been a strict condom user ever since he’d first gotten his hands on that pamphlet. He had even volunteered for Gay Men’s Health Crisis back in New York, working the hotline to chat with worried men who were afraid they might be the next ones to be infected. It was impossible. He couldn’t have the virus. And yet his health continued to decline. He began losing weight, which got him more attention at the baths but did nothing to quell his concern. He left San Francisco, moving back in with his old roommate Jeff in New York City. He could hardly recall the passion that had led him to leave the city in the first place–all he wanted now was the comfort of home. Jeff welcomed him back with open arms, but he too grew concerned as he saw Dario getting sicker and sicker. “You need to go and get tested,” he said one day. It was early spring, 1985, and the city had yet to shed the chill of winter. “They can test for it now. Better to have the answer, right?” He put his hand on Dario’s shoulder. “I can go with you if you want.” “I’m fine,” said Dario. Unfortunately, he was betrayed at that particular moment by an especially harsh fit of coughing. “That’s it." Jeff stood up and held out his hand, looking at Dario like he wouldn’t take no for an answer. “I’m taking you there right now.” As they sat in the waiting room waiting for Dario’s test results, the sight of the other patients made him feel even worse. Some of the men were almost skin and bones, with that terrible wasted look. One of them even had a purple splotch on the back of his hand. He noticed Dario looking at him and covered it with his sleeve. Dario looked away. “Dario Badalejo?” called a nurse. He stood weakly. Jeff squeezed his hand. “Come with me,” she beckoned him. The look on her face told him everything he needed to know. ____________________________________________________________________________ “I don’t understand,” said Jeff. “How could he have AIDS? He always uses a condom. That’s supposed to keep him safe. You said it would keep him safe!” The nurse shook her head. “Condoms aren’t foolproof. And if you’re the receptive partner, you’re a lot more likely to get AIDS. Especially if your partner is uncircumcised.” Dario laughed weakly. “First you’re shaming me for being a bottom, now you’re shaming me for loving uncut cock?” “I’m not-” “I’m never going to be able to have sex again, am I?” he asked. She shook her head. “It’s not a good idea. Not until they find a cure, or at least a treatment.” His stomach sank. He felt like he was going to be sick. “What’s the treatment plan?” asked Jeff. “We can treat the symptoms, but not much else,” said the nurse. “I’m sorry.” Jeff stood up. “This is bullshit.” He turned to Dario and grabbed his hand. “Come on. I’m taking you home.” Dario spent the next few days in bed, not from illness, but from grief. Despite his vigilance, despite how careful he’d been, he still got the virus. How could he have AIDS? What would happen to him? Would he die? He felt terrified and numb. Shame threatened to overwhelm him. His mother had been right after all. This was a lonely life. What of the men he’d been with over the last couple of years? Had he passed the virus onto them? All that time being careful, and for what? His sex drive had come back to haunt him in more ways than one. It was at that moment that he promised if he made it out of this, he would never have sex again. And then he got horny. It started about a week after his diagnosis. He woke up in the middle of the night sweating bullets, his cock hard as a rock. He’d been dreaming about getting fucked by a man. He couldn’t remember his face, but he could see his body crystal clear in his mind. Wasted. Veiny. Covered head-to-toe in purple lesions. It was horrifying, but somehow thrilling at the same time. Even now, his cock wouldn’t go down. He tossed and turned, trying to will himself back to sleep, but the lust was too much for him. He lay on his stomach and jerked his cock against the bed, rutting until he exploded with a loud cry. He awoke in the morning with his stomach glued to his bedsheets. His seed was hard and crusty on the sheets, full of his poison. He felt the shame overwhelm him as he remembered his dream. Why did that man turn him on? He should be repulsed, not aroused. As he washed the cum off of him in the shower, he conceded that jerking off was probably the most harmless way to deal with the lust he was feeling. At least that way he wasn’t harming anybody else. As long as he made sure to do his own laundry–he would hate to think of infecting Jeff and exposing him to this nightmare. Pretty soon, however, even jerking off began to get out of hand. He was waking up nightly in a sweat, his dreams filled with pale, wasted men and veiny cocks. But the worst were the dreams in which he was the wasted one, his brown skin pale and mottled as he preyed upon some unsuspecting young man. He couldn’t deny it, the idea of fucking another person, knowing that he had AIDS, made him hard. In fact, if he was being honest with himself, there was something about knowing he was positive and fucking someone anyway that turned him on. He had never been much of a top, always preferring to be the one getting fucked. Now there was a new desire in him, a desire to breed, to pass on what had been given to him, to give this curse to someone else. But that was all just fantasy. He wouldn’t actually have sex with someone, even with a condom. After all, condoms hadn’t protected him. He couldn’t count on them to protect anyone else. But what could he do? He couldn’t take this horniness for much longer. He had to do something to ease the tension and get the release he so desperately needed. After careful consideration, Dario decided to return to the baths. He definitely wasn’t going to have sex with anyone, but he decided that watching other people have sex would be okay. No one ever gave someone AIDS by being a voyeur, right? Of course, he couldn’t tell any of his friends there about his diagnosis, or else they wouldn’t even let him past the front door. He would have to pretend that nothing was wrong. “I’m going for a walk,” he told Jeff one evening after work. “Want me to come with you?” He shook his head. “I just need some time alone. Thanks though.” He felt bad lying to Jeff. His friend had been so good to him, staying by his side even through his diagnosis. But he needed release. He could control himself, he was sure of it. The second he stepped into the bathhouse, he was hard as a rock. He hadn’t been around a naked man in so long. It was summertime again, and the baths were filled with muscular men, daddies, and bears showing off their tanned bodies. He checked his clothes into a locker and wrapped himself in a fluffy white towel, heading to the pool to relax. A group of men lounged naked in the shallow end, their cocks floating in the water as they leaned back against the rim of the pool. One hairy older man stood in the corner, moaning as a slim younger guy sucked him with vigor. Dario sat on the edge of the deep end, away from the rest of the people. He wanted to ditch the towel and start stroking his cock, but he was self-conscious about drawing attention to himself. Better to take his time and ease into it. He lay back, closed his eyes, and listened to the sound of laughter, moaning, and grunting that floated through the air around him. Mindlessly, his hand slipped under his towel as he began to rub himself. The sensation of water dripping on his face snapped him back to attention. He opened his eyes to see an older man standing over him, the water from the pool falling down his naked body and dripping off the end of his cock. He had a thick cock with a light pink head, which sat nestled in a pair of large, hairy balls. He was looking down at Dario with a smirk on his face. “Mind if I join you?” Not waiting for an answer, he sat down next to Dario, leaning against one hand to display his naked body to him. Although the man was at least in his late 50s, he was in remarkably good shape. Dario had always had a thing for daddies, and this man was like something out of a dream. His skin was tan and mostly tight against his body, which you rarely saw on older guys. He had a bit of a pouch on his stomach, but the hair on his chest and stomach just made it look even sexier. Dario’s jaw dropped slightly as he took in every inch of the man. The guy laughed. “You know, if you take a picture, it’ll last longer.” “S-sorry.” “You new to the baths?” He shook his head. “I just… haven’t been in a while.” “Ah,” said the guy. “I feel like I’m crawling the walls if I’m away for even more than a week.” The guy put his hand on Dario’s leg, sliding it slowly underneath the towel. “You should get more comfortable. It’s all right–I won’t bite.” Dario bit his lip as the man undid the towel and let it fall away. His dick was rock hard and pointed straight up. The man laughed. “Nice cock,” he said as he wrapped his fingers around it. Dario moaned as the man slid his foreskin up and down. A little bit of precum dribbled out of the head. He gasped in surprise when the man leaned down and took the head of his dick into his mouth. “Fuck,” he whispered. The man’s tongue felt so good on his dick. He hadn’t felt a mouth on his dick in forever. It felt better than sin. He was sure he was about to burst when the man released his cock and sat up, grinning. “Yummy,” he said, savoring the taste of Dario’s precum on his tongue. “You want to come to my room? I’d love to get inside that hole.” He reached his hand under Dario’s cock, sliding his fingers along his taint and towards his hole. Dario wanted to give in, wanted to let the man fuck him, virus be damned. But he saw Jeff’s face in his mind. What would his friend think of him now? He scrambled to his feet, his heart racing. “I’m sorry. I gotta go.” He wrapped his towel around his waist and hurried back towards the front. He didn’t look back at the man, too scared about how close he’d come to breaking his vow. He’d barely been at the baths an hour before he’d almost had sex with someone! Sure, maybe they would have used a condom, but he’d agreed he wouldn’t even allow himself to do that. So much for willpower. He stayed away from the baths for the next couple of weeks, convinced that his little experiment was a colossal failure. But his horniness was only getting worse. His dreams, which before had featured faceless men with wasted bodies, were now filled with the old man from the baths. He dreamt about fucking him, about riding his cock and spraying his seed all over the man’s chest. He dreamt about cumming deep inside the man, staring in his eyes as he delivered what he knew would be a killing blow. The shame became unbearable–how could he condemn another person to what he was going through? He couldn’t do it, no matter how horny he became. Then came that fateful day a few weeks later. The summer was almost over, as July had come and gone and they were well into August. He was sitting on the couch channel surfing with Jeff when they landed on a report from the local news station. “Rising cases of AIDS and the closure late last year of San Francisco bathhouses has led local health officials to call for the New York State Public Health Council to close gay bathhouses, bars, and clubs in an effort to stop the spread of the disease,” said the reporter. “Good.” Jeff frowned. “I know it’s a blow to our community, but I just can’t fathom why some people would be so reckless. Don’t they know what they’re doing to themselves?” “We spoke with local congressman Ed Green to hear his thoughts on the epidemic and whether the city should take the step of closing down these facilities.” The man’s face that came on the screen nearly caused Dario’s brain to short-circuit. “I don’t give a lick whether they close these facilities or not,” said the man. “Go ahead and keep them open. These degenerates brought all this nonsense on themselves. As far as I’m concerned, the less of them the better.” “What a fucking asshole!” Jeff grabbed the remote and turned off the TV. He threw it against the couch. “I can’t believe people like him even exist.” Dario could. After all, he’d almost fucked him at the bathhouse just a few weeks ago. He’d been wearing a suit on TV, but Dario would recognize that face anywhere. “You know what?” Jeff asked. He turned towards him, his voice raising with anger. “It’s people like him that deserve this virus. Not us. I hope you get AIDS, Ed Green.” Dario blinked in surprise. “I’ve never known you to be so vindictive.” “Am I wrong? The guy’s reprehensible!” Then something clicked in his head. It was too horrible to even consider–or was it? “What if he did?” he asked. “What if he did get AIDS?” “Good.” Jeff scoffed. “He can rot for all I care.” The image of Ed’s naked body growing thin and wasted popped into Dario’s brain. He was getting hard again, aroused at the idea of spreading the virus to someone who truly deserved it. Jeff was right–if anybody deserved AIDS, it was this guy. Maybe Dario wasn’t a victim of fate. Maybe he was an agent of it. He went back to the bathhouse every night that week, keeping his eyes peeled for Congressman Ed Green. He no longer had any fear of giving in to temptation and fucking someone else. Now that he had a target, he was a man on a mission. It was easy to avoid the flirty gazes and wandering hands of the patrons at the baths. He was saving his load for someone special. It was late one Saturday night when he finally saw him. He walked into the pool room a little after midnight, a towel wrapped around his waist. Even through the towel, you could see the outline of his dick. God, what Dario wouldn’t give to feel it in his ass. But he wasn’t here to bottom. The only way to be sure of spreading the virus was to cum inside the man. Dario watched as the congressman slipped off his towel and waded into the water. He slipped in behind him, his heart racing as he slowly approached his prey. Ed turned and saw Dario, then smiled. “Well, hello again.” Even with what he knew about the man, his deep, sexy voice still made Dario weak in the knees. “Fancy seeing you here.” “Haven’t seen you in a while,” said Ed. “Figured I scared you off last time.” Dario shook his head. “I wasn’t scared of you.” Ed raised an eyebrow. “Oh?” Dario slid his hand under the water and squeezed Ed’s cock. “I was scared of this.” Ed moaned. He put his hand on Dario’s ass, pulling him in closer. “I’ve never had one so big,” Dario continued. “I guess I just got scared.” “You don’t need to be scared, baby.” Ed grabbed the back of Dario’s head and pulled him in gently. “I told you–I don’t bite.” He kissed Dario, his tongue working its way into Dario’s mouth and opening him up. Dario continued stroking his cock, feeling it grow into full hardness under the water. The older man’s hands were squeezing his ass, then lifting him until his legs were wrapped around the man’s waist. Ed pinned him against the edge of the pool, kissing him deeply as he rubbed his cock up against his hole. “I want you,” Ed whispered in his ear. “Let me fuck you.” “Only if you let me return the favor.” Ed pulled back, a frown on his face. “I don’t get fucked.” Dario kissed his neck. “You don’t know what you’re missing. Trust me, the best tops are guys who like to bottom. I’ll take it slow, I promise.” Ed let go of him. “Forget it.” Dario felt the panic rising in his chest as the older man started to move away. He had to give him the virus, one way or another. He grabbed Ed’s hand. “Okay. Okay, fair enough. Just thought I’d try to get a shot at that beautiful ass.” Ed smirked. “Can’t blame you for trying.” He pulled Dario toward the edge of the water. “Come on. I have a room here.” He led Dario past the other patrons talking and fondling each other in the hallway and took him towards a room in the back. It was bare and cramped, with nothing but a rectangular mirror glued behind a cot. Ed sat down on the cot with his back against the wall and spread his legs, letting his half-hard cock flop down and hang in front of those delicious-looking balls. Dario dropped to his knees. He stuck his nose in the sweaty crevice between the man’s sack and his leg. Fuck, he loved the smell of man musk and chlorine. He took one of the hairy balls in his mouth and started sucking on it. “Fuck,” Ed moaned. He put his hands behind his head, relaxing as Dario slid his cock into his mouth. Dario was feeling cock-drunk as he worshipped the man’s shaft. It had been so long since he’d been able to enjoy another man’s body, and he wanted to savor every minute of it. He knew he should be figuring out a way to get the old man to bottom for him, but he was too caught up in fellating him. How could he have ever thought he could go the rest of his life without having sex with a man again? This was fucking heaven. It was more than just sex–it was why he was alive. As long or as short as he lived, he wanted to feel this again and again as much as he possibly could. “Turn around and let me see that hole,” said Ed. Dario pulled the man’s cock out of his mouth and stood. He used his hands to brace himself against the floor as he put his legs on either side of Ed. The older man’s hands grabbed him by the hips and pulled him closer to his face. He heard the sound of spitting, then felt the wonderful feeling of Ed’s tongue lapping him up. His cock was leaking precum now, he was so turned on by getting eaten out. He had always loved getting his ass eaten, but it seemed to feel even better now than it ever had before. Was that because it had been so long, or did it have something to do with the virus? It seemed to have made him hornier. Maybe it made sex feel better too. Ed’s tongue worked its way deep inside him, lubing him up and preparing his hole for the taking. His arms were shaking as he felt the man’s tongue probing him, opening him up to be fucked again for the first time in ages. “Fuck, I love eating your pussy,” said Ed. “I hear it feels even better on your cock,” he replied. Ed spanked him on the cheek. “Get up and bend over the bed. I want to take you from behind.” Dario got back on his feet, propping himself up against the cot as he waited to be entered. He practically wept when he felt Ed’s cock rubbing up against his hole. He wanted this so badly. “Shh…” Ed whispered in his ear. “You can take it.” Ed was pushing into him now. His cock felt wet, so he must have put some lube on it, but it was still painful as it worked its way into his guts. Dario hadn’t bottomed in so long, he knew his first time back wouldn’t be easy. But the pain paled in comparison to his lust. Ed buried his cock deep inside of Dario, his wiry grey pubes scratching Dario’s ass. “God I love your wet cunt.” He pulled out a bit and rammed it back in, making Dario cry out. He started fucking him faster, his cock battering Dario’s prostate again and again. Dario just laid his cheek against the cot and allowed the old man to use his hole. As the man fucked him again and again, Dario felt a sense of bliss overtake him. This felt right, being here. As much as he’d tried to deny it, when he was a teenager and again when he found out he had the virus, he knew that this was who he was meant to be. He was meant to be used by men, to take cock by whoever would give it to him. Even his time spent using condoms had been foolish–he was simply prolonging the inevitable. Better to give into his base desires and be who he truly was than to settle for some kind of half-life of mediocre sex. “Fuck, you faggots are so easy.” Ed laughed. “You’ll spread your legs for any guy with a pulse and a cock, won’t you? Oh fuck… I’m gonna cum… Ugh, take it. Fucking take it!” He grunted, then slammed his cock all the way in as he began to fill Dario with cum. Dario counted the pulses that filled him: one, two, three, four, five. As much as he hated the man who had bred him, he couldn’t deny everything the man said. He was a faggot who loved cock. But so was the old man. “Whew.” Ed pulled out of Dario and lay back against the cot. He wiped the sweat off of his brow. “You are one good lay.” Dario lay beside him, running his fingers through the man’s chest hair. “So are you.” He leaned down and took one of Ed’s nipples into his mouth, sucking and biting it as he grabbed the man’s wet cock. Ed laughed. “I’m a bit too spent to go again that fast. Maybe another time.” Dario lifted his head. “I know a trick that’ll make you rock hard again. Wanna try it?” Ed raised an eyebrow. “Rock hard, huh?” Dario crouched at the bottom of the cot and put his hands on Ed’s thighs. “Just relax. I’ll do all the work.” Ed rolled his eyes. “If your trick is a blowjob, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.” But Dario ignored his cock. Instead, he grabbed Ed’s legs and hoisted them in the air. Before Ed knew what hit him, Dario’s tongue was buried deep in his asshole. “Oh fuck… Jesus, kid.” Dario made love to the man’s asshole, wiggling his tongue around and rubbing his nose against the man’s taint. He pushed his tongue as far as it could go, prying open his sphincter and tasting the sweet flesh within. By the sound of Ed’s moans, he wasn’t used to someone eating him out. He ran his hands through Dario’s hair as he ate him out. He pulled his face off of Ed’s hole for a second to stick one of his fingers in his mouth, then rubbed it up against the outside of the old man’s asshole. “Wait a minute, I don’t-” Ed’s words turned into cries of pleasure as Dario jammed his finger straight into the old man’s ass. He felt around until he found that precious little spot deep inside the asshole, then hammered it with his finger for all he was worth. “What are you- oh god… oh GOD!” Ed’s arms and legs went limp as Dario worked the man’s prostate. Dario smiled to himself as he watched the man get so bent out of shape over being fingered. Why some people denied themselves the pleasure of prostate play was beyond him. Keeping his finger buried in Ed’s asshole, he slid up the cot until his face was next to Ed’s. “Does that feel good?” he whispered. “Yes,” Ed said breathlessly. “I can make you feel better.” “How?” Dario kissed him, and for the first time, he was the aggressor. He climbed on top of Ed, grabbed his cock, and placed it against the old man’s hole. “Let me show you.” Then, without waiting for Ed’s response, he plunged his cock as deep inside the man’s hole as it would go. “Holy fuck! Jesus Christ… pull it out!” Ed shouted. “Shh…” Dario whispered in his ear. “You can take it.” He stayed still, giving the old man a few seconds to adjust. Despite the pain of the intrusion, Ed hadn’t gone limp at all–in fact, he was as hard as ever. Dario looked in his eyes and, when he didn’t see any sign of protest, began slowly fucking him. “Oh Jesus… that feels so good,” said Ed. “I told you, bottoms make the best tops,” said Dario. “We know what feels good. And we know how to find just the right spot.” He pulled his cock out a couple of inches, rubbing it up against the spot where he knew Ed’s prostate would be. “Holy shit. Ugh… fuck, don’t stop,” said Ed. “Just… just pull out before you cum in me. Okay? I don’t want to get sick.” Dario nodded, although he knew he would do no such thing. Not when he was so close to his prize. He fucked Ed slowly, careful to make it all about the older man’s pleasure. He knew that the best way to give him the virus was to make him want it. Now that he was inside, he was going to make this such a memorable experience that Ed would beg to be fucked again and again. Until it was sure to take. The tightness of Ed’s virgin hole was enough to bring Dario to the edge within minutes. He would have to be quiet about his orgasm if he wanted to accomplish his mission. He kept his breathing steady as he felt the pressure riding in his balls. Ed’s eyes were closed, his face sweaty as he grappled with how good it felt to let a man fuck you. For a moment, Dario felt guilty about what he was about to do. But then he remembered the way Ed had sneered when confronted with the virus. These degenerates brought all this nonsense on themselves. As far as I’m concerned, the less of them the better. You brought it on yourself, Ed. Dario kissed him to cover up the fact that he was cumming inside his hole. He grabbed his hands, pinning them against the cot as he rutted inside the man’s hole. The pressure of months of chastity released itself through his balls, entering the man’s rectum and infecting him the way that he himself had been infected. He didn’t slow his thrusting for a second, continuing to fuck even as his cumming began to slow and his orgasm faded. “You’re gonna pull out before you cum, right?” said Ed. “Of course.” Dario kissed the old man again, wrestling with the man’s tongue as he worked his seed deeper into his rectum. Now that he had cum, he started fucking Ed slow and sensual. Pinching his nipples, kissing his neck, stroking the head of his cock as he fucked him. He had Ed wrapped around his finger, making him moan and whimper with every touch. “I’m getting close,” said Ed. “Me too.” Dario stopped in mid-thrust. “Do you want me to pull out?” “No!” Ed said, his eyes growing wide. He was stroking himself wildly, desperate for a second cum. “Don’t stop fucking me.” Dario resumed pumping in and out of him, but he felt the familiar tension rising in his balls. “Ugh… fuck, I’m gonna cum if I keep going,” he teased. “I think I should pull out.” “No!” Ed wrapped his legs around Dario’s ass, trapping him inside him. “Just… a little… longer.” “Oh fuck… here I come!” said Dario. He felt a second orgasm flooding through him, his balls pumping a second load into Ed’s hole. Ed’s cock was shooting as well, dousing their stomachs in his seed. Dario collapsed on top of the old man, their chests sliding against each other as his cock dribbled the last of his seed into Ed’s no-longer-virgin hole. “Oh God… what did I just do?” Ed’s eyes were wide. “I don’t bottom, I don’t… you’re clean, right? Please tell me you’re clean.” Dario smiled. He ran his fingers through Ed’s hair, then kissed him gently on the lips. “It’s all good, baby. You have nothing to worry about.” “Oh thank God.” Ed sighed. “Fuck, that did feel good though,” he said with a grin. Dario pulled his cock out of the old man and sat back on his knees. “I’m down for a rematch anytime you are.” Ed sat up and kissed him. “I’ll give you my number. I’ve got a few friends who might be interested in joining in if you like that sort of thing. They’re discreet like me, but I can trust you, right?” Dario smiled. If Ed’s friends were anything like him, then he wouldn’t have to work too hard to find his next victim. “My lips are sealed.” —---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Dario walked through the door of his apartment practically buzzing. Jeff sat on the couch watching TV. He smiled when he caught sight of Dario. “Hey man. What’s up with you? You feeling okay?” Dario plopped down on the couch next to him. “I feel amazing. Better than ever, actually.” “That’s great!” Jeff squeezed his hand. “I know you took it pretty hard, the diagnosis and all. Not being able to have sex. But there really is so much else to life.” Dario smiled. “You’re right. I have a lot to live for.” It was true. Stealthing that asshole at the baths had done more than lift his spirits–it had given him a new purpose. He was no longer a victim. He was taking control of his destiny. This virus hadn’t been a curse at all. It had shown him who he was, who he was truly meant to be. He didn’t know how long he had left to live. But whether it was a month, a year, or a decade, he knew one thing: he would take as many assholes with him as he could in the time he had left.

Thanks! I plan on working in a bit of history throughout the tale. It’s interesting to research and explore what people’s attitudes were like towards HIV at different times in history.

Hi everybody! I’ve written a lot of erotic fiction elsewhere, but this is my first story on Breeding Zone. I’m sure a similar setup has been done in the past, but I thought this would be a fun saga to write. The premise is the path of a virus making its way from person to person, claiming more and more victims (both willing and unwilling). Enjoy! Patient 1: Sam The summer of 1983 was off to a sweltering start. Sam had moved to San Francisco three years ago, but he couldn’t remember a hotter period in the city. He’d stayed inside as much as possible, glued to the small AC unit in the bedroom window of his tiny apartment. Of course, that awful flu from last week certainly hadn’t helped. He’d come down pretty suddenly with a raging fever and horrible muscle aches, confined to his room for almost two weeks. He could barely get out of bed, let alone out into that summer heat. Now that he was feeling better, he was looking forward to finally getting laid. It had been too long since he’d had sex. The last guy he’d fucked had been this totally hot flight attendant he’d met on a flight back to his hometown in Alabama. The guy was a total DILF: mid-30s, blonde hair, thick mustache like a caterpillar. The second Sam stepped on the plane he knew he was gonna fuck this guy. They were barely off the ground before the attendant slipped Sam a note asking him to meet him in the first-class lavatory. When he arrived, the guy already had his cock out of his pants and was stroking it. “Get on your knees,” he said. Sam complied, dropping to the ground and taking the man’s cock into his soft mouth. He sucked him hungrily, bringing the guy’s cock to full, beautiful hardness within seconds. “Bend over the sink.” The man pulled his pants down to the ground. His cock sprang out, wet and hard. Sam had only bottomed once or twice before, but this cock was too delicious to pass up. He unzipped his pants, releasing his throbbing cock from his briefs. He stroked it in his hand as he felt the head of the man’s cock rubbing up against his hole. Then it was pushing its way in, tearing up his insides as it sank deep inside. A little lube would have been nice, though Sam never used lube himself when he was the one doing the fucking. He preferred the natural, slick wetness of a man’s insides. The flight attendant fucked him roughly, grabbing his hips and thrusting him back against his cock. Precum dripped out of his cock, which bounced wildly with every thrust. “Such a tight hole,” the man said with a smirk. “You a virgin?” “Mmph… I’m a top… ugh…” moaned Sam. The man laughed, then picked up the pace, fucking him harder. “Sure you are.” Sam just moaned. The cock was rubbing up against something inside him, and as he stroked his cock, he could feel his orgasm just around the corner. But before he could shoot off, the man shoved his cock deep inside him and groaned. “Take that load… fuck yeah,” said the flight attendant as his cock pulsed inside Sam’s hole. He could feel every burst of the man’s seed as it worked its way deep inside his rectum. It was just what he needed to push him over the edge, spraying his own load over the bathroom mirror as he let out a cry. But that had been a month ago. He stayed with his parents in Alabama for the next couple of weeks, which left him no time (and very little options) for cruising. Then, the second he stepped foot back into the city, he’d been hit with that awful flu. Sam hadn’t gone this long without having sex since he’d lost his virginity at 18. He knew he was a bit of a late bloomer, but he’d wasted no time making up for it over the next three years. At 21, he was still in his sexual prime. He was tall and trim, with a body he’d worked hard for and a pretty sizable dick he’d been blessed with. He practically lived at the baths, spending his evenings after work pumping iron and cruising the sauna. He’d gotten off in more guys than he could count, getting his dick sucked and blowing a load in whichever naive bottom just moved to town. Now it was a Sunday morning, bright and hot as ever. He’d used up his sick pay calling out the last two weeks, so he knew he’d have to go back in tomorrow. Today was his last chance to get laid before the workweek. He pulled on a pair of white jockey Y-fronts and some cutoff jean shorts, his dark brown bush peeking out from the top. A lot of guys these days had started shaving, but he loved how manly he felt with a full, dark bush. There was something so hot about seeing a guy’s nose buried in his pubes. Since it was too hot to wear much more than that outside, he tucked a tank top into his back pocket and headed out the door. As soon as he stepped outside he felt the sun beating down on him. Sweat dripped down his chest, practically steaming off of his hot skin. For a moment he wondered if he was still slightly feverish. Perhaps he should stay home after all. But his cock was too busy leading the way, so he wiped his brow and set off in the direction of the baths, already dreaming of slipping into the cold pool. When he turned the corner, the sight of the man at the end of the block almost made him stop in his tracks. He was short and thick, a perfect mix of muscle and curves that Sam loved on the guys he fucked. Forget the skinny twinks–Sam was all about having something to grab onto while fucking. The guy wore a black tank top and baseball cap, which showed off his dark tan skin and beefy chest. As he got closer, Sam could see that he was probably Latino. He had a thin black mustache on his upper lip, and he was looking right at Sam with a gleam he recognized all too well. They slowed down as they passed each other, each turning their heads to check the other out. Sam got a look at the guy’s ass, which looked full and fuckable in a pair of black workout shorts. He locked eyes with the guy again, who smiled and beckoned him with a subtle nod. The chase was on. Sam turned on his heels, following the hot Latino man down the street. He was growing hard at the anticipation of sinking into that tight hole. He shoved his hand down his Y-fronts to adjust himself, then grinned as the man looked back and saw him. The guy kept walking for another couple of blocks before turning down a street lined with a row of apartments. After a minute, he stopped in front of a tall rust-colored building. Without looking at Sam, he walked up the stairs to the entrance and unlocked the door. For a second, Sam thought he’d disappeared inside without him, but as he made his way up the steps, he could see a hand holding the door open. He put his hand on the other man’s, feeling his soft, warm skin as he slipped inside the apartment and the door shut behind them. Without a word, he followed the guy up the stairs. The man’s ass was an inch away from his face, jiggling deliciously in those black shorts. He stuck his nose in close and breathed deeply, inhaling the man’s musk. He’d have his tongue deep in there in a minute, he was sure. The man stopped on the third floor in front of one of the apartment doors. He turned and smiled at Sam. “Dario,” he said. “Excuse me?” The guy laughed. “Dario. It’s my name.” He had a little bit of an accent that Sam found incredibly sexy. “Oh. I’m Sam.” Dario bit his lip. “Sam… would you like to come inside?” Would he ever! He put his thumb on Dario’s lip, pulling open that soft mouth. He slipped it inside to feel the wetness of Dario’s tongue. Dario closed his mouth around it, sucking on Sam’s thumb like it was an audition. “Fuck yeah,” he said. He grabbed the back of Dario’s head and pulled him in for a kiss. His tongue invaded Dario’s mouth, wrestling for dominance. His hands slid into Dario’s shorts and squeezed that thick, juicy ass. He could feel the heat rising in him, urging him to seed this bottom. But before his fingers could make their way into the holy land, Dario broke the kiss. “Follow me,” he said breathlessly. He opened the door and walked inside the apartment, leaving Sam to follow. The place was small but intimate. It looked like Dario lived alone–good. No interruptions, then. Dario stripped off his tank top. He was smooth all over, a thin layer of sweat covering his light brown skin. Sam reached forward and grazed his fingertips against Dario’s skin. He rubbed his thumbs over the man’s nipples. Dario shuddered and leaned his head back, exposing his neck for the taking. Sam leaned in and ran his lips against Dario’s ear. “What are you into?” he whispered. He was playing with Dario’s nipples, enjoying hearing the bottom boy moan. “Whatever you want,” whimpered Dario. He smiled. Right answer. He latched onto Dario’s neck, kissing and licking and biting him as his hands groped the man’s ass. He reached his fingers underneath Dario’s shorts to feel the rough band of a jockstrap. He pulled it back and let it smack against Dario’s ass, making the man moan again. Then he slid his fingers downward, prying apart those sweaty cheeks to find the sweet hole between them. Dario let out a whimper as Sam’s fingertip brushed against his hole. He gently rubbed the outside of it, feeling the smoothness. Smooth holes always made him rock hard. He stuck the tip of his finger inside and wiggled it deep. “Oh, fuck,” said Dario. Sam cut him off with a kiss. His tongue was rough, fighting its way inside the little Latino bottom. He needed to be inside him and he needed to be inside him now. “Bedroom,” he said gruffly. Dario grabbed his cock through his jean shorts, leading him through the living room to a smaller room at the back. The room was dark and hot, with blackout curtains cutting off the light. A fan was running at full blast, but it did little more than swirl the hot air around the room. “Sorry there’s no AC,” said Dario. “Get on the bed.” Sam pulled off his shorts and underwear, letting his dick spring free. Dario laid back against the bed, but when he reached to grab Sam’s dick, Sam grabbed his hands. “No touching,” he said. “You have rope? Handcuffs?” Dario reached into his bedside table and pulled out a pair of cuffs. “Perfect. Now turn around.” He took the cuffs from Dario, then watched as Dario lay flat on his stomach, arms outstretched. Good boy. He put the handcuffs on Dario’s left wrist, then looped it through the headboard before attaching it to his other wrist. He was leaking like mad, leaving a trail of precum on Dario’s lower back. He pulled off Dario’s shorts to reveal his smooth hole. The boy’s ass was so big it looked like the jockstrap could barely contain it. He grabbed his cheeks and pried them apart, mouth watering as he ran his tongue over that tight pucker. Dario was moaning like crazy now, writhing against the bed as he ate him out. He loved eating a boy’s pussy. They were like putty in your hands if you knew how to work your tongue in their hole. But his cock was hard and angry. It wanted in. He rubbed his cock against Dario’s hole and put his mouth against the bottom’s ear. “You want this dick inside you.” It wasn’t a question. “Yes,” whispered Dario. But just as he was about to shove it into that warm, wet slice of heaven, he heard the words that made his blood run cold. “There’s a condom in the drawer.” Sam growled. He had never used a condom in his life. He sure as hell wasn’t about to start now. “I don’t do condoms.” “But haven’t you heard?” Dario looked back at him, eyes wide. “Heard what?” “There’s that thing going around. A virus. My friend in New York was telling me about it. He gave me a pamphlet.” Dario nodded towards the nightstand. It held a small white pamphlet with black lettering that read How to Have Sex in an Epidemic: One Approach. “It says you could get it from getting fucked,” said Dario. Sam huffed. “Well, I don’t get fucked. I fuck. So you don’t have to worry about me, baby–I’m clean.” He rubbed his cock against Dario’s hole again, hoping to make the bottom forget about all this condom nonsense. “Mm.. oh fuck.. It’s not… look, man, I hate it too. But you gotta put one on, okay?” Sam sighed angrily. He was half tempted to just walk out of there, leave Dario handcuffed, and find some bottom at the baths who actually knew how to fuck the way God intended. But the boy looked so fucking hot there, handcuffed and helpless. And that hole had tasted so good… maybe it would be worth it, just this once. “Fine. Where are they?” Dario nodded his head to the nightstand drawer. Sam pulled out a roll of condoms, looking at them in disgust. What was he, a fucking hetero? All this condom talk was making his dick limp. He tore off one of the condoms and set it on the table. He climbed further up the bed, grabbed Dario’s head, and turned it to the side, then shoved his cock deep inside the guy’s mouth. He face fucked him for a minute, getting his dick nice and wet and back to full mast. Finally, when he felt hard as a rock, he ripped open the condom and rolled it down onto his cock. “There’s some lube-” “I don’t need lube,” said Sam. He spit on his hand and rubbed it around the edge of the condom. Then, in one fell swoop, he shoved his cock deep inside Dario’s asshole. “Oh, fuck! Dude, you gotta take it easy,” pleaded Dario. So, maybe he was punishing him a little. So what. He deserved it, what with all that condom bullshit. He pulled his dick out halfway, then rammed it back inside. “Oh! Oh, Jesus,” Dario whimpered. Sam rammed his cock in and out, in and out. He was dripping sweat from his forehead onto Dario’s back, running down that beautiful skin and pooling in the man’s lower back. He leaned down and kissed Dario, thrusting his cock deep inside him again and again. He could feel Dario whimpering in his mouth, no doubt struggling as Sam’s cock tore him up inside. But Sam had enough experience to know that soon enough Dario would be begging him for more. He grabbed the back of Dario’s head and shoved him face-first in the pillow, plowing the man’s hole with reckless abandon. “Take that cock you fucking faggot,” he moaned. Dario’s hole was unbelievably tight, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of how much better it would be raw. The condom felt tight around the head of his dick, making his cock feel less sensitive. He fucked him harder and faster, channeling his rage into his cock. The condom got tighter and tighter around the head of his cock until it was almost too much to bear. Then he felt it–that glorious pop. The condom had snapped. “Oh fuck…” he moaned. His cock felt like heaven inside Dario’s hole. Now there was nothing between the sensitive head and Dario’s warm, wet insides. There was nothing holding him back anymore. He pulled his cock out and thrust it back in, rubbing his cockhead across Dario’s wet fuck chute. “Ugh… Oh… That feels so good,” Dario moaned. “You like that? Like being fucked by a real man?” “Ugh.. yeah… the-the condom’s still on, right?” Sam rolled his eyes. “Of course it is.” “Uhh… are you sure?” He smacked Dario’s ass, making the flesh jiggle. “Don’t worry about it. Now squeeze your ass on my dick.” Dario put his face into the pillow and arched his back up, squeezing his tight hole around Sam’s dick. “Deeper,” he moaned. Sam smirked as he started fucking him again. These bottoms were so stupid. A little bit of dominance and they’ll do anything you say. He couldn’t wait to paint this boy’s insides with his nut, just like God intended. He was fucking him roughly again, lost in the animalistic heat of the moment. His skin felt like it was on fire, hotter than it had been when he was feverous just a few days ago. He slammed his hips against Dario’s cheeks, holding onto the jockstrap like a horse’s reigns as he fucked the shit out of this boy. “Ugh… oh slow down, that hurts…” He ignored him, picking up the pace as he felt his orgasm build. The only thing that mattered now was his own pleasure. He needed to spill his seed, to breed this boy and mark him as his own. He needed to plant his seed so deep inside of Dario that he would be a part of him forever. “Ugh… fuck… I’m coming!” He wrapped his arms around Dario’s chest, squeezing the boy tightly as he blew his load inside him. His cock was planted as far in as it could go, and he felt nothing but ecstasy as it filled the boy’s rectum with cum. He could feel his cock throbbing, pulsing with his heartbeat. He collapsed onto Dario’s back, his cock twitching as it released its last few dribbles of cum. He put his nose in Dario’s hair and breathed in the boy’s scent. It smelled clean and fresh, like a flower waiting to be defiled. Another job well done. “That was fucking hot,” said Dario, his back heaving as he breathed heavily. Sam pulled his cock out of Dario’s hole, relishing one last feel of the boy’s insides. There was a light pink froth on the outside of the condom, a beautiful mixture of cum and a little bit of blood that he sometimes saw when he pushed a bottom to his limits. When he pulled his cock all the way out, he could see the tip of the condom hanging precariously off. He laughed to himself. “What’s so funny?” Dario asked, turning his head to smile at him. Sam ripped off the condom and tossed it in the wastebasket by the bed. “Nothing. Let’s get you off.” He wasn’t a total douchebag, after all. Just because he cared more about his own pleasure than anyone else’s didn’t mean he didn’t like helping bottoms get off. He released Dario from the handcuffs, then turned the boy on his back and kissed him. His hand traced down Dario’s chest, squeezing his meaty pecs and pinching his dark brown nipples. He trailed down the smooth, sweaty skin of his pecs and stomach until his hand reached underneath Dario’s ass, where he slipped his fingers in the boy’s hole once more. “Ahh,” Dario hissed. “It’s a little sore.” Sam kissed his neck. “Cum for me, baby,” he whispered. Dario pulled his cock out of the jockstrap pouch, tugging on it as Sam fingered him deeply. He was working the cum deeper into the boy’s hole, careful to remove any trace of his stealthing. After all, what Dario didn’t know couldn’t hurt him. It wasn’t like there was a real chance of him catching anything anyway. Sam had been to the clinic just a couple of months ago and tested clean. What could he possibly have? “Ugh… oh god, yes,” Dario moaned. He was jerking his cock, his hole gripping Sam’s finger like a vice. Sam shoved his finger in as deep as it would go and wiggled it around. “Cum for me. Now!” Dario cried out as his cock began to spurt. The cum flew up and hit him on the chest, covering those beautiful brown nipples in sticky white seed. Sam kissed him, ravaging the boy’s prostate with his finger as he rode the orgasm. God, he loved breeding these boys more than anything but diddling them to completion was a reward all unto itself. He watched the cum spurting out of Dario’s cock less and less until it was just a dribble. “Wow,” Dario whispered once he’d finished cumming. “That was incredible.” Sam smirked. He pulled his finger out of Dario and sucked it clean. He loved the taste of a boy well fucked. Then he pulled on his jean shorts, stuffing the Y-fronts into his pocket. “Can I see you again?” asked Dario. He pulled on his shoes. “I’ll be at the baths if you’re ever up for another round.” It was certainly possible that they’d hook up again, but not very likely. Sam didn’t like to plow the same field too many times–there were so many other holes to conquer. Still, best to let him have a bit of hope. As he left Dario’s apartment, he felt a sudden burst of energy. Instead of heading home, he set off in the direction of the baths. He’d be ready to go again in minutes, of that he was sure. That month off sex had really shaken him. He needed this, a reminder that he was a man meant to breed. Now that he’d gotten off on his latest conquest, he knew there was a whole world out there just waiting to be conquered.