Cucked By My Dad

[JustAFrecklyWriter]

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.”

[Palley]

I've read this elsewhere, love it. 1st time seeing the image, always makes me hard. 

[NeedBredAnyTakers]

I read this on Gay demon 😈 

[JustAFrecklyWriter]

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.”