The Adventures of Andy Chao

DILF Paul

Read Chapter One to learn how Andy meets Mr. Santos and what happened when Andy went back to Mr. Santos’ cabin. And please let me know if you’re enjoying this story…

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After my whole lousy cruise ship experience turns around with my amazing morning with Mr. Santos and his huge cock, I can barely walk. I'm exaggerating, but only kind of. My boyhole is still throbbing and I'm packing a gutful of cum.

I can't wait until I see him again.

I'm making my way back to my room and all I want to do is get one hand wrapped around my cock and the other down the back of my tight tiny neon-pink bikini briefs and get a couple fingers up my sweetly aching wet hole.

I'm thinking so much about Mr. Santos and his giant cock and his big hairy chest and hard furry belly that I lose my way and get turned around. Suddenly I don't know which way I should be going down this hallway.

Right when I stop walking and start thinking maybe I should turn around this guy comes down the hall. He's maybe thirty, tall, kind of muscled, dark hair, short beard, of course I check him out, I'm gay, duh. I take a second to appreciate the chest while realizing he's one of those DILFs littering the ship. Nothing to see here, move along, folks. But then, when he's about five feet from me, our eyes meet.

Oh, ho, ho!

He pauses and says, “How's it going?”

“Uh, good, thanks.”

“Yeah?”

I nod.

“Are you lost?”

“Not really. Well, only kind of…” I laugh lamely.

“Easy to get turned around on this thing.”

He points the way he came. “The main dining room is that way.”

I nod, smiling back at him, trying to meet his eye again. I don't immediately move. Neither does he. I can't figure out why he doesn't move. Then he says, “You're standing in front of my door.”

“Oh, sorry!” I blurt out, feeling stupider than usual.

“No worries,” he says, “it's okay.”

He steps toward the door and I barely have time to move back and we're close now, and I can see his dark eyes fringed with long dark lashes. And then he says, “You want to come in for a minute?”

Our eyes meet and lock and I nod. Then he's opening the door and scanning the hallway both directions and I step inside. It's a suite, and there's the same big bed, but he's obviously married, there's a fucking playpen or crib or whatever against the wall, and a package of diapers on the floor next to it. I look at his finger for the first time. Yep, golden band.

“So what's up –” I start to say, as he puts a hand on my shoulder.

“You're a really hot little dude,” he says, his hand running down my arm. “You up for some fun?”

In answer I step close to him and put my hands on his hips, and then let them go up inside his t-shirt. His chest is nice and solid, and furry. His hands are on my back now, feeling it and reaching down, then he catches the hem of the back of my shirt and pulls it up over my head.

We're now shirtless, face to face, and his hands are back on me stroking me all over. “Whoa, Little Dude,” he says. “You’re hot. Gymnast?”

“Swimmer,” I breathe, my face close to his chest, about to kiss the round nipple poking out at me. Then I stop.

“Are you married?” I ask.

He stops, but only for a second.

“Yeah, but we haven't had sex for months.”

His hands are still on me. “God, you're beautiful.”

Then he adds, “The past two nights are the first time the baby's slept all the way through the night. I got more sleep than I've had for a year.”

His hands are stroking me. “Dude,” he says, “you're so hot.”

“So are you,” I answer.

He has gorgeous pecs, and while he's definitely not as big as Mr. Santos, he's younger and more classically muscular, proportion wise. Jesus, they're both hot!

Then he surprises me by leaning down and kissing me. I wasn’t expecting that from a “straight” guy. He kisses pretty good, his tongue is firm and strong, and it moves around exploring my mouth and playing with my tongue. I suddenly like him. A lot.

At the same time he’s stroking me, just feeling my skin. He stops kissing me and whispers, “You feel really good.”

Then he’s undoing the waistband of his shorts and I’ve get my hands inside them right away. He’s wearing some loose boxer briefs and I have no trouble pulling out his cock. It’s nice and hard, plenty big enough, even if it’s no competition for Mr. Santos. It does have a pronounced head and a really sweet curve. I fist it and rub it, I get a quick handful of spit and rub the head, making him gasp.

He’s struggling to get my shorts undone, so I use one hand to help him and my shorts fall. I hear his deep whistle-y intake of breath and I can see in the dresser mirror that he can see us in the closet door mirror behind me. Then his hands are all over my ass, and I arch my back. “Fuck, you’re hot,” he whispers. I put my face up to be kissed and he kisses me again, rougher this time, more urgent, more insistent.

When he pulls off the kiss he holds me and looks me in the face and says, “I want to fuck you. Can I fuck you? I really want to fuck you.”

“Okay,” I say, as if it’s a big concession, and then I stick my tongue out and laugh.

“Really?” he says. “Really?”

“Sure,” I answer, smiling.

I slide my thumbs into the waistband of my tight pink underwear and peel them down. “Towel?” I murmur.

His eyes are big as he grabs a towel and spreads it on the bed, and then he pushes me and we fall together, and in a few seconds he’s got my legs in the air and I’ve got my arms around him. His cock is pressing against me and he says, “Do you, uh, need anything?”

I remember the half tube of lube Mr. Santos just worked up there, and I say sweetly, “I think I’m good.”

He looks like he doesn’t believe me, but he gets his cock into position and pushes in. I clamp down to resist him for a moment, and then as he shifts his knees and pushes harder I relax and let him in.

“Ohhhhhhh,” he says. “Daaaaammmnnn that’s good! Fuuuck, you’re so – wet!”

I look up at him, and his mouth is hanging open in pleasure.

“I guess I’m ready for you.”

He pushes in more and right away he nails my boy spot, and then he starts to pump.

“Oh fuck, you feel so good, so hot and tight and juicy…”

He pumps.

“Oh fuck, your ass feels so good!”

He’s pumping more now, picking up speed.

He asks, “You okay, doing good? Everything fine?”

I nod and grin. “Fuck, yeah! Give me that cock!”

“Yeah, you like that? You like my big cock in your sexy little ass?”

“Hell yeah!”

He shifts around, holding my ankles over my head and then he’s basically in pushup position. His pecs are gorgeous, and his DILF belly/abdomen is rubbing against me as his cock reams me, hitting my boy button over and over again. I can tell he’s getting close as his breathing changes and the stroke pattern changes. I feel my cock jerk as he hits my boy button just right and he senses it, and tries to zero in on the target, and suddenly I’m the one who’s gasping “Oh god, yeah, oh god, yeah, right there, ohh, ohh, ohhh!” and I spurt and he almost yells, “YEAH BUDDY!” and then he’s gasping big ragged breaths and erratically pumping and I can tell I’ve just been hosed again.

I’m nervous afterwards, just in case he feels guilty or gets angry, but he seems fine. He gets rid of the towel and gives me some baby wipes, LOL, and a washcloth, and takes care of himself.

“You good?” he says.

I nod.

“Hey buddy, that was fuckin’ awesome. I can’t tell you how much I needed that!”

I nod again, grinning.

“I got to get back,” he says.

I nod. “Me too.”

“Right.”

He leans down and gives me a quick peck on the lips. “You are one hot little dude!”

“You too.”

Suddenly he blushes, and looks at me like he’s embarrassed. Then he says, “I’m Paul. And you’re - ?”

“Andy.”

He nods and repeats, “Andy.” Then he leans forward and kisses me again, not super slow, but more than a peck. A test kiss. He looks at me again and grins. “Fuck, you’re hot!”

He opens the door and checks the corridor and turns to me to let me know the coast is clear.

“Maybe see you around?”

“Sure!”

I’m back out in the hallway by myself, and for a moment I don’t know which way to go. It doesn’t matter. It’s gonna be a great day!

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