It had been a long, hot day at the garage. My shirt stuck to my back, my jeans smelled like grease, and all I wanted was a cold beer. I rode down to my spot—a no-bullshit gay bar. No pretty boys, no glitter. Just bears, scruffy trade, and hungry twinks looking for a daddy to ruin them.
Most nights I’d find someone, drag him to the back, and fuck him until he couldn’t walk straight. But tonight, I was just tired. I wanted to sit, drink, and breathe.
I parked my Harley, walked in, and nodded at the bartender—big guy, beard, always easy to flirt with. Ordered my regular, got a grin in return, and settled at the bar.
That’s when I noticed him.
He stood a little too close, hovering at my side like he was working up the nerve to talk. Mid-30s, tall, scruffy brown hair, blue eyes that gave him away. He had a body under that shirt—strong, not soft—but it was the nervous energy that made me smirk.
I turned toward him. “Can I help you, boy?”
He wet his lips and leaned in. “I’ve got a proposition. Something unusual.”
I raised a brow. “Then let’s hear it.”
He tilted his head toward the corner of the bar. “See him? The one in the suit. That’s my husband. He likes to watch. He wants to see me get used by a real man—hard, rough, with no mercy. While he sits there knowing he’s not enough.”
I followed his gaze. The man—Tony—was handsome, well-dressed, with a stare that never left me. Strong jaw, legs spread in his tailored slacks, like he was trying to project control. But his eyes gave him away.
I turned back to the scruffy one and smirked. “So, you want me to bend you over, fuck you raw, while your husband watches like a pathetic little cuck?”
He swallowed hard. “Exactly.”
I drained half my beer, then set it down slowly. “What’s your name, boy?” I asked.
“Kyle,” he said, eyes shining.
I nodded. “Alright, Kyle. But before I fuck you, I want to meet your husband. See what kind of man sits there letting another guy take his boy.”
Kyle grinned like he’d won the lottery and waved Tony over. I stood, stretching my shoulders, leather creaking as he crossed the room. Tony rose to meet me, hand outstretched.
“Jim,” I said, gripping his hand hard enough to test him.
“Tony,” he replied, steady but with that flicker in his eyes.
We locked stares. Him in his crisp suit, me in my dirty jeans and grease-stained shirt, muscles still pumped from the day’s work. It was clear we were both measuring who was the bigger man.
I smirked first. “So, let me get this straight. Your husband wants me to bend him over, fuck him raw, make him scream for it. And you? You’re just gonna sit there and watch?”
Tony’s jaw clenched, but his eyes never left mine. “You look more of a man than I’ll ever be. My husband deserves that. He deserves to feel what it’s like to get used by someone who knows how to fuck.”
I chuckled. “That right? Because from here, you don’t look completely hopeless. Looks like you could fuck a man—if you weren’t such a pathetic excuse for a lover.”
His lips twitched into a half-smile. “Maybe I need to learn. Maybe I need someone like you to show me what being a real man means.”
I leaned in closer, voice low but sharp. “Then watch close, boy. I’ll give you a demonstration you won’t forget. And if you’re lucky, maybe I’ll teach you a lesson or two. But first—you’re gonna sit there, shut your mouth, and accept that your husband’s about to get ruined by me.”
I finished my beer, slow and deliberate, letting them both squirm in anticipation. My forearms flexed as I set the glass down.
“Alright, boys,” I said, standing tall in my leather jacket. “Let’s see what we can do.”
Kyle looked ready to melt right there. Tony just swallowed hard and adjusted his cuffs like he was still pretending to be in control. I smirked and walked them outside.
They headed for their SUV, some shiny Suburban that screamed safe, middle-class comfort. I swung my leg over my Harley, lit it up, and revved the engine until the ground shook. The two of them glanced back, and I made sure they saw me sitting there—broad shoulders under leather, cigar between my teeth, chrome gleaming under the streetlights.
They pulled out. I followed close, keeping my headlight in their rearview so they couldn’t forget who was behind them. Twenty minutes of suburban streets, and I could feel their nerves rising with every turn.
Finally, they pulled into a tidy ranch house with a perfect lawn. Exactly what I expected—two professional gays playing house, neat little life, and now inviting in the kind of chaos they couldn’t handle on their own.
I killed the engine, the sudden silence heavy in the air. They walked me inside, lights dim, the smell of candles and expensive furniture. It was clean, tasteful… sterile.
I dropped onto their leather couch without asking, legs spread wide, jacket still on.
Tony cleared his throat. “Would you be more comfortable in the bedroom—”
I cut him off with a sharp glare. “Don’t bark orders at me, boy. I’ll tell you how this is gonna go. You’re gonna get me a beer. Kyle, you’re gonna sit your ass right here next to me. And both of you are gonna remember I’m in charge now.”
Tony froze for a second, then nodded, his face flushing as he turned toward the kitchen. Kyle practically fell onto the couch beside me, his hands already twitching like he couldn’t wait to touch me.
I leaned back, muscles tight under my shirt, cigar smoke curling around my head as Kyle’s fingers crept up my chest. I didn’t even take my jacket off—I wanted him to feel the leather, the weight, the raw presence of me while he pawed at my body.
When Tony came back with the beers, he stopped dead. His husband was already rubbing my pecs, lips close to my neck, desperate. I grabbed the bottle, cracked it open, and took a long pull, eyes locked on Tony.
“See that?” I said, smirking. “Your boy can’t keep his hands off me. That’s what happens when a real man steps into the room. He doesn’t even think about you—he’s too busy begging for me.”
Tony’s jaw tightened, but his eyes betrayed him—hungry, humiliated, turned on.
I exhaled cigar smoke in his direction and pulled Kyle tighter against me. “You wanted a demonstration, Tony? Sit your ass down and watch. I’m about to show you exactly how a real man treats your husband.
Kyle slid closer on the couch, eyes fixed on me like I was the only man alive. His hands traced over my chest, feeling the muscle under my dirty shirt, sliding beneath my leather jacket like he couldn’t get enough.
I let him. I just leaned back, cigar in one hand, beer in the other, letting him worship while I stared Tony down.
“You seeing this?” I said, nodding at Kyle’s hungry hands. “Your husband can’t stop touching me. Doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t ask permission. He knows what a real man feels like, and he’s quick to grab hold.”
Tony’s eyes flicked from Kyle to me, his breath sharp, his jaw tight.
Kyle’s hand slid lower, over my stomach, to the bulge stretching my greasy jeans. He palmed it greedily, eyes going wide at the weight of it. “Fuck, Daddy… you’re huge.”
I smirked, blew out a stream of smoke, and looked straight at Tony. “Hear that? First taste and already your husband knows I’m built for him. You ever hear him moan like that for you?”
Tony didn’t answer. Just swallowed and nodded stiffly.
I grabbed Kyle by the hair, yanked his head back, and crushed my mouth onto his. He groaned into the kiss, clawing at my chest, trying to prove he could match my aggression. I bit his lip, then shoved him back against the couch.
Tony sat frozen, staring, his hands gripping his knees so tight his knuckles went white.
I smirked and leaned toward him. “Don’t get shy now, boy. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? To watch your husband melt for another man while you sit there, useless.”
Kyle slid back down against me, lips on my neck, hands fumbling at my belt. I spread my legs wider, forcing Tony to stare at the growing bulge in my jeans, the heavy outline of what was waiting.
I puffed on my cigar and took another slow pull of beer. “Pay attention, Tony. Tonight you’re gonna see what it looks like when your husband’s fucked like he deserves. And by the end, you’ll be thanking me for it.”
Kyle’s fingers fumbled at my belt buckle, desperate like he’d been starving for it. I didn’t help him. I just leaned back, cigar glowing, beer in hand, making him work for it while Tony sat across from us, stiff and silent.
Finally, Kyle tore my belt open, yanked down my zipper, and freed my cock. His gasp said everything. Thick, heavy, hard as steel in his hands.
“Fuck…” he whispered, stroking me with both fists like he couldn’t believe the size. “You’re a beast.”
I chuckled low, smoke curling from my lips. “That’s right, boy. Wrap your mouth around it. Show your husband what a real man feels like.”
Kyle didn’t hesitate—he dove in, lips stretching wide as he swallowed me down. The sound of him choking, gagging, sucking filled the room, obscene and raw. His head bobbed fast, sloppy spit shining on my cock as he worked me like he’d been waiting his whole life for it.
I groaned, gripping his hair tight and forcing him deeper. His throat convulsed, tears streaming down his face, but he never pulled away.
“Look at this, Tony,” I growled, dragging Kyle off just long enough to smear spit across his face. “Your husband can’t get enough of my cock. He’s a natural slut for it. Tell me—he ever suck you like this?”
Tony’s voice was rough, strangled. “N-no.”
I smirked and shoved Kyle back down, fucking his throat until he gagged. “Didn’t think so. That’s because he’s been waiting for me. Waiting for someone who’d take what he offers and use him like he deserves.”
Kyle moaned around my length, the sound vibrating down my shaft. He clawed at my thighs, desperate for more, drool spilling onto my jeans.
I leaned forward, eyes locked on Tony. “Watch close, boy. This is the part where your husband stops being yours. Every swallow, every gag, every moan—he’s giving himself to me.”
I yanked Kyle off my cock, spit dripping from his chin, his chest heaving like he couldn’t get enough air. I slapped his face lightly, smearing saliva across his cheek.
“Up,” I ordered, dragging him by the hair. “On your knees. Hands on the couch.”
He scrambled into position, ass high, back arched, presenting himself without hesitation. His hole clenched tight, begging to be filled.
I stood, towering over him, tugging my jeans lower, my cock hanging heavy and slick from his spit. I looked at Tony, who still sat frozen on the chair across from us, his knuckles white on his knees.
“Get a good look,” I growled. “Your husband’s about to take me raw. You’re gonna sit there and watch every inch disappear inside him.”
I spat in my hand, rubbed it along my cock, then pressed the thick head against Kyle’s hole. He whimpered, shoving back against me like he needed it more than air.
The first push stretched him wide. He cried out, a sound between pain and bliss, clutching the couch cushions as I forced my way in.
“Fuck, Daddy—” he moaned, voice breaking.
I grabbed his hips and slammed forward, burying myself to the hilt in one brutal thrust. His scream echoed off the walls, raw and guttural.
“Jesus Christ,” Tony whispered, staring with wide, hungry eyes.
I smirked over Kyle’s back, cigar smoke curling from my lips. “That’s right, boy. Say your prayers. Your husband’s mine now.”
I started to pound him—deep, punishing strokes that made his body jolt with every impact. The sound of skin on skin filled the room, wet and obscene. Kyle was a mess—sweating, moaning, begging for more with every thrust.
I yanked his head back by the hair, forcing him to look at Tony. “Tell him, Kyle. Tell your husband who owns you now.”
Kyle’s voice came out ragged, broken. “Y-you do… Daddy owns me.”
Tony’s breath hitched, his chest rising and falling like he couldn’t keep control.
I slammed harder, forcing Kyle’s words out in gasps. “Say it louder. Make sure he hears you.”
“Daddy owns me! He fucking owns me!”
I grinned, grinding deep, staring Tony down the whole time. “That’s it. Watch close, Tony. Watch me break what you thought was yours.”
I slammed back into Kyle, my hips cracking against his ass, every thrust making the couch groan. He was gone now—sweat-slick, drooling, moaning like a man possessed.
“Daddy!” he sobbed, gripping the cushions so hard his knuckles whitened. “Fuck—there is no one like you Daddy!”
I grinned, yanking his head back by the hair so his cries hit Tony full force. “Say it louder. Make sure your husband hears you.”
“I’m yours!” Kyle wailed. “Nobody has ever fucked me like you, Daddy. You possess me—body and soul!”
I laughed low, the sound curling with smoke as I dragged my cigar from my lips. “Hear that, Tony? Your husband just signed himself over. He’s not yours anymore. He’s mine.”
Tony’s jaw trembled, his eyes glassy as he watched me rut into Kyle like an animal. His hands twitched on his knees, like he didn’t know whether to cover his hard cock or tear himself open with shame.
Kyle turned his head, looking at him through tear-streaked eyes. “Tony—fuck—I can’t stop. He’s deep inside me. I can’t stop wanting more of him. ”
I slammed deep, grinding hard enough to make Kyle scream, then growled low in his ear. “Tell him what you’d rather have, boy. His weak little hands… or my cock splitting you open.”
Kyle sobbed, voice breaking. “Y-yours! Always yours! Fuck—I don’t even want him touching me anymore. Only you, Daddy.”
Tony flinched like the words were bullets. His lips parted, breath shaking, but nothing came out—just a strangled sound caught in his throat.
I locked eyes with him while I hammered Kyle’s hole, every thrust punctuated with a growl. “You see what’s happening, Tony? I’m rewriting him right in front of you. Every scream, every moan, every drop of sweat is another piece of him that belongs to me. And there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.”
Kyle was crying now, but not from pain—from being broken open and remade. I smirked, pulling his head back so he faced Tony one last time. “Say goodbye to your husband, Tony. The man you knew is gone. From now on… he’s mine.”
I gripped Kyle’s hips like a vice, driving into him harder, faster, until the whole couch shook under us. He was wailing, voice shredded, each thrust pulling out another cry of surrender.
He sobbed into the cushion, his body clenching around me, and I felt him unravel. His whole frame went rigid, then he was spurting all over the couch without even touching himself, screaming my name as he came.
“Daddy—fuck—you wrecked me!”
“Damn right,” I snarled, leaning over his back, sweat dripping down my chest. “You’ll never take another man’s cock without thinking of me.”
With a roar, I slammed deep one last time and emptied myself inside him. Shooting streams of cum up his arse, grinding until every drop was buried in his guts. His body shook beneath me, overwhelmed, wrecked, owned.
I collapsed back, dragging Kyle with me, my cock still lodged in him as he sagged against my chest. His skin was slick, his breath ragged, but he was smiling through the tears.
Across the room, Tony sat frozen, eyes wide, chest heaving like he’d just run miles. He couldn’t look away from us—his husband filled with another man’s cum, moaning in bliss he’d never given him. His lips moved like he wanted to speak, but no words came.
I smirked at him over Kyle’s shoulder. “Take a good look. That’s what it looks like when a man finds where he belongs.”
After Kyle finally peeled himself off me, we staggered toward the shower together, his body trembling with every step. I guided him under the hot spray, water washing away the sweat and cum, but not the mark I’d left on him.
Behind us, Tony lingered in the doorway, arms crossed like he was trying to hide the truth swelling inside him. I caught his reflection in the foggy mirror—his eyes hungry, tortured, begging for something he didn’t know how to ask for.
The three of us moved to the shower, steam already filling the room. Kyle leaned heavily against me, still trembling, while Tony hung back at first, eyes wide, cock straining against his stomach.
“Strip,” I ordered. Tony hesitated, then slowly removed his suit, shirt, and slacks, revealing the hardness pressing against his pale thighs.
I turned on the water, letting the hot spray hit my back first, then reached for both of them. “Hands on me,” I commanded.
Kyle pressed against my chest, lathering my shoulders and arms, lips close to my neck as he scrubbed. Tony was hesitant at first, but under my sharp gaze, he stepped closer, hands trembling, and began washing my legs and cock, soap slick and sliding over my skin.
“See that?” I growled, gripping Tony’s jaw gently but firmly. “Even after watching your husband get taken, you can’t resist wanting to serve me.”
Tony swallowed hard, nodding. His hands moved slower than Kyle’s but they were eager, obeying every subtle cue.
I let my hand drift to my cock, slick with water and soap, and Tony’s eyes followed every inch. “Now, you two are going to show me just how much you want this,” I said, lifting the head of my cock.
Kyle dropped to his knees first, taking me in his mouth, eager and sloppy, eyes up at me. Tony froze for a second, then I guided his hands toward my cock, letting him feel the slick weight, teaching him how to serve.
I grinned, “Time for you both to remember who owns you.”
Then I let the next level of humiliation come into play. I adjusted myself, letting a slow stream of piss run down my cock. Kyle didn’t flinch—he tilted his head, swallowing it, savoring the degradation. Tony froze for a moment, caught between shock and desire.
“Don’t just stare, boy,” I barked. “Taste it. Show me you’re mine.”
Tony’s hands shook, but he leaned forward, letting the warm liquid hit his lips, swallowing with audible gulps. Kyle groaned in approval, taking it all with fervor, lips working over my cock while the water ran over us.
I watched them both, chest heaving, knowing I’d broken them completely in a way they didn’t even know they needed. Hands, mouths, eager obedience—they were mine. Both of them, in the shower, cleaning me, serving me, reveling in every bit of humiliation and submission I demanded.
When it was done, I let them collapse against the wall with me, dripping wet, spent, and fully aware of their place. Kyle leaned into my chest, still whining softly, while Tony’s eyes flicked to me with a mix of awe, shame, and longing.
“See that, Tony?” I whispered. “You can’t hide it anymore. You want it too. Admit it.”
Tony’s eyes were glassy, lips parting, cock twitching. He swallowed hard, nodding.
I straightened, letting both men step back slightly, giving me space. “Enough for now,” I said, voice low and commanding. “You’ve had your lesson… and you both did well.”
Tony’s lips parted, cock twitching, hands still lingering. “I… I want more,” he admitted, voice shaky but eager.
I smirked, letting the steam swirl around me. “Good boys. Hungry. That’s exactly how I want you.”
I grabbed my towel, dried off just enough to get dressed, leaving them dripping and panting, still soaked in the warm water and the lingering tension. “Next time,” I said, running my fingers through Kyle’s wet hair, “we’ll take it further. Both of you… Remember your place. Hungry, obedient, and ready for me.”
Kyle moaned, pressing closer, eyes pleading. Tony’s chest heaved, gaze fixed on me, silently begging.
I leaned down, brushing my lips over Kyle’s temple, whispering, “You belong to me. Both of you.”
I pulled back, grabbing my keys and helmet. “Stay like this,” I ordered. “Dripping, needy, thinking about me. I’ll be back when I want you.”
With that, I walked out, leaving the door open behind me. I mounted my Harley, leather and chrome gleaming in the evening light. I revved the engine, loud and low, making sure they could see and hear me, imprinting the memory.
As I roared off into the night, I knew exactly what I had left behind: two men, dripping, desperate, hungry for more, and fully aware of who owned them.
