I’m not a complicated guy. I’m Billy Parker, eighteen, finishing senior year and trying not to think too hard about the future even though everyone keeps reminding me I’ve got a basketball scholarship waiting for me at State. People say I look the part - six-four, two-ten, blond hair, blue eyes, the kind of build coaches (and girls!) love, even though my unfortunate blond hair sticks up no matter how much gel I use. People tell me I look like a blond Jacob Elordi, which I guess is a compliment, but I’ve never seen it.
Anyway, none of that stuff even matters compared to my girl, Rachel. She’s… Rachel. Blonde, blue-eyed, curves for days, basically Sabrina Carpenter but hotter because she’s real and she’s mine. She’s kind-hearted but doesn’t brag about it. She’s actually what people mean when they say “Christian values,” not the fake stuff hypocrites use to judge each other. She’s not just my girlfriend; she’s the thing that kept me sane when everything went to hell with my parents last year. And now, with the clock ticking toward graduation and the rest of my life, all I want is to be with her as much as I can.
And I’ve been planning our one-year anniversary for weeks. Scented candles. Chocolate-covered strawberries. A playlist with her favourite Billie Eilish songs. A motel I could actually afford but was still clean… because this was going to be our first night. Not just together… but our real first. Rachel was the girl I wanted to lose my virginity to. This wasn’t just about sex. I wanted to prove to Rachel, and maybe to myself, that love could be something careful and honest. Not messy and humiliating the way it looked in porn or a weapon like with…
Well I guess I should probably tell you about my parents.
Everything in my life got split into a “before” and “after” the day my dad left. No warning, no explanation… he’d just fallen for someone else. And not even a woman. A man. Austin. Mom’s younger brother! Mom and I never even know Dad was gay, or bi or whatever you call it when your father suddenly walks out of a twenty-year marriage for another guy. He swore he hadn’t been before but what the fuck does it matter?
It crushed my mom, even though she tried to pretend it didn’t. She’d move around the house smiling like everything was normal, but I could see the dark cloud hovering over her head and hear her trying to silence her tears at night when she thought I was asleep. After all, they’d been high school sweethearts. Married at 18. Had me by 20. And for him to leave her for her little brother?? How could you ever get over that?
I was furious… at Dad, at Austin, at everything. The guy who raised me, taught me how to ride a bike, told me to always do the right thing, had just abandoned us like we were trash. I swore I didn’t want anything to do with him ever again.
I didn’t tell anyone at school. I still haven’t.
But then Rachel came along. She didn’t care about my mess. She made me laugh when I didn’t think I remembered how. She held my hand that first night after I told her about Dad, and she said, “Screw him. You’ve got me.”
I want Rachel to be my person. The one I grow up with, the one I marry, the one I buy a house with. It’s stupid to think like that at eighteen, I know, but when you’ve watched your whole family blow up, you start looking for something solid to hold onto. Rachel’s that for me.
Which is why this weekend was supposed to be ours.
But then Mom asks me to spend the weekend with Dad.
“Please, Billy,” she says, as we stood side by side, washing the dishes. “He wants to try. Just for the weekend.”
Dad calls too, sounding weirdly calm, like he’s already forgiven me for being mad at him.
“I know I screwed up,” he says. “But I’m still your dad. I want to see you.”
It was his birthday and he said it was the only gift he wanted – to see his son.
To be honest, I didn’t care what he wanted. I had no plans to ever give him anything ever again. But Mom… she genuinely wanted me to do this.
When I tell Rachel, she takes it better than I expect.
“It sucks,” she says over FaceTime, sitting cross-legged on her bed in one of my hoodies, her blonde hair messy from practice. “But… if your mom wants you to go, you should go.”
“I had everything planned,” I say.
Her lips curve into this soft little smile. “You’re sweet.”
“This isn’t sweet, Rach. Do you know how many fricking scented candles I bought??”
She laughs. God, I love that laugh.
“We’ll have our night,” she says. “Even if it’s not this weekend.”
That’s the kind of person she is. No guilt trip. No bullshit. Pure understanding. Even though I can hear she’s disappointed. I am too. I was so lucky to have her.
So early Friday evening, I throw my gym bag in the backseat and hit the road. It’s an hour drive to Dad’s apartment, and the whole time I’m gripping the steering wheel hard enough my knuckles go white.
Every mile closer makes me angrier. I keep thinking about him leaving Mom. And Austin. Jesus. Her younger brother. My uncle. That’s a level of betrayal I can’t wrap my head around.
I don’t want to be homophobic. I’ve told myself that a hundred times. And I’m not. What they do is their own business. But how the hell am I supposed to sit across from these guys like everything’s normal?
I keep imagining their bedroom. I hate that my brain goes there, but it does. They sleep in the same bed. Do things. Things I don’t want to picture but can’t help picturing. I don’t even know which one’s the top and which one’s the bottom, and I hate myself for wondering.
My phone buzzes on the passenger seat. It’s Rachel:
Rach: You there yet?
Me: Almost.
Rach: Breathe. You’ll get through it.
I send her a “fingers crossed” emoji and toss the phone face-down and pull into Dad’s complex. The place looks normal. Brick buildings, trimmed grass, American flag out front. I don’t know who he thought he was fooling. A Republican who takes back shots? C’mon.
Dad opens the door before I knock. He’s still built like a linebacker - broad shoulders, forearms like tree trunks. He doesn’t look like the kind of guy who’d leave his wife for another man. That thought makes me mad all over again.
“Billy,” he says with this awkward smile, like he’s testing if I’ll smile back.
I don’t. “Hey.”
He steps aside and I walk in.
The apartment smells like men. Like beer, deodorant, and takeout. Definitely not... however I thought a gay man’s apartment would smell. There are sneakers by the door, a stack of ESPN magazines on the coffee table and an empty protein shaker in the sink. It feels like a bachelor pad for two guys who never learned to cook. Music plays on tte Echo. Some old song Dad used to always play but I don’t know the name of it – “can’t find a better man…”
Austin’s on the couch, wearing a faded Pearl Jam T-shirt and jeans, as he plays with his phone. He looks like a guy who could fix your car or frame a house in a day. Strong jaw, scruffy hair, a little bit of stubble, forearms tanned from work. Nothing about him screams “gay.” Which, somehow, makes it worse. Looking at him I’m reminded that he’s actually closer to my age than to Dad’s. Gross.
“Hey, Billy,” Austin says, nodding.
“Hey,” I mutter.
Dad shows me to the spare bedroom. It’s small but clean. Neutral colors, nothing personal. My stomach knots when I pass their bedroom on the way. The door’s half open. There’s a king-size bed. Two pillows. It hits me harder than I expect. That’s where they do it. It makes me feel sick.
I dump my bag on the bed without unpacking.
Back in the living room, Dad’s on the phone, probably with a patient. He’s a doctor, always on call. He looks stressed, rubbing his forehead, and I almost feel bad before I remember why I’m here.
“Ordered pizza,” he says after he hangs up. “Your favorite. Pepperoni.”
I nod but don’t thank him. I know he’s trying but he’s going to have to try way harder than that.
While we wait, Austin grabs a couple of beers from the fridge and tosses one to me.
I catch it mid-air, staring at the can. “Seriously?”
“You’re eighteen,” he says. “One won’t kill you.”
Dad shoots him a look that suggests he isn’t really onboard with this. “Just one. That’s it.”
His disapproval just makes me want it. So I crack it open and take a big scull.
We sit there, the three of us, watching SportsCenter. It’s weirdly quiet except for the TV. Dad tries asking me about school, about basketball, about Rachel. I give short answers.
Rachel texts again:
Rach: How’s it going?
Me: Awkward as hell.
Rach: Hang in there.
The pizza comes and we eat straight from the box. Dad keeps trying to make conversation, but then his cell starts buzzing. I already know what’s coming.
“Crap,” he mutters. “Emergency consult.”
I roll my eyes so hard it almost hurts. Of course. The one weekend we’re supposed to “reconnect” or whatever Mom calls it, and he’s heading off to work. Classic.
He starts rambling, like he can hear the judgment in my silence. “Billy, this wasn’t scheduled. They just had a cancellation and…”
“It’s fine,” I say, not looking at him. “Do what you gotta do.”
“Hey,” he tries again, voice softening in that way that only annoys me more, “I really did plan to take the whole weekend off.”
“Yeah,” I mutter, “sure.”
Before he can answer, I stand up. “I’m gonna hit the bathroom.”
I walk down the short hall and shut the door a little harder than I need to and try to piss away my frustration. When I’m done, I’m washing my hands when I hear their voices down the corridor - Dad and Austin, lowered, soft enough that I know I’m not supposed to hear them.
Austin’s the one talking first, his voice calm and easy. “It’s fine, Pete. Really. Go. I’ll keep an eye on him.”
There’s a pause, then Dad says something too quiet for me to catch, his tone tired but warm.
Austin chuckles under his breath. “He’ll be alright. He’s a good kid. I’ve got him.”
Another beat. Another quiet murmur. And then I hear it. This soft sound, unmistakable even muffled through the door. A kiss. Then a second, longer one.
My stomach twists. I’m right here! And they’re making out!!
I stare at the mirror, water still running, listening to them be… affectionate. Tender. Like a couple. Like something normal.
I shut off the faucet harder than necessary and dry my hands fast, trying to shake off the weird churn in my stomach as I reach for the handle.
By the time I get back to the living room, Dad’s already gone. And just like that, it’s me and Austin.
Austin leans back on the couch and cracks a grin.
“You want another beer?” he asks.
I blink at him. “Seriously?”
“Your dad would lose his shit,” Austin says, heading for the fridge. “But I won’t tell if you don’t.”
He tosses me a cold one.
And just like that, everything shifts.
We drink. Slowly at first, then not so slowly. SportsCenter stays on, but we’re not really watching it. Austin leans back, legs stretched out, looking more relaxed without Dad around.
“You hate me, huh?” he says after a while.
I take a sip. “Pretty much.”
He chuckles, like he expected that. “Fair.”
There’s a silence. I drink more than I should.
Finally, he says, “Look, kid… your mom’s great. But she wasn’t making your dad happy. He tried. For years. But sometimes… it’s just not there.”
I stare at my beer, jaw tight. “So he cheated. With you.”
Austin looks straight at me. “He didn’t mean to fall for me. Neither of us planned it. But it happened.”
I hate that he sounds sincere. I hate that he looks sincere. I hate him.
Rachel texts again.
Rach: Still alive?
Me: Barely.
I drain the rest of the can.
Austin cracks open his third and slides another one my way without asking.
“You’re wound up, kid,” he says as if to explain why I need another beer.
I glare at him. “Wonder why.”
He chuckles, takes a sip, and points the can at me. “Look, I get it. You hate me. You hate him. You hate this whole situation. I don’t blame you.”
I snort. “Glad we’re on the same page.”
A few minutes pass before I finally say it. “I just… don’t get it.”
Austin glances over. “What?”
“You. Him. How the hell did that even happen? He’s never been with a guy before, right?”
Austin shakes his head. “Nope. Not once. Trust me, your dad’s as surprised as you are.”
That stings for some reason I can’t explain. “So what, he just… what? Woke up one day and decided to rail my uncle?”
Austin laughs… a deep, easy laugh that annoys the crap out of me because it sounds genuine. “Pretty much, yeah.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Nah, seriously… it wasn’t like that. We were close. Always had been. Working on projects together, watching games, shooting the shit. And somewhere in there…” He shrugs.
“That’s not an answer,” I shoot back.
He grins, cheeky now. “Guess I just have that effect on people.”
I try not to laugh, but the beer’s hitting me, and I let out this short, sharp breath that sounds way too close to a chuckle.
Austin notices immediately. “Oh my God,” he says, mock-serious. “Was that a laugh? Did Billy Parker, king of silent treatment, just laugh at one of my jokes?”
I shake my head, grinning despite myself. “You’re an idiot.”
“Guilty,” he says, raising his beer in a toast. “But a charming one.”
I clink mine against his without thinking, then immediately regret it.
Rachel texts again.
Rach: How’s it going now?
Me: Weird. Drinking beer with Austin.
Rach: …Wtf lol
Me: Tell me about it.
I toss the phone on the couch.
Austin catches me looking at the hallway where their bedroom is. He doesn’t miss much.
“You’ve been wondering, huh?” he says, eyebrow raised.
I snap my head back. “Wondering what?”
“What we do in there.”
I choke on my beer. “Jesus, dude.”
He laughs so hard he has to set his drink down. “Relax, man. I’m messing with you.”
I shake my head, face burning. “Not funny.”
“Little funny,” he says, wiping his eyes. “C’mon, you gotta admit, it’s a little funny.”
I glare at him, but yeah… okay, maybe it’s a little funny.
“You know,” he says, scrunching up his empty can, “your dad beat himself up for months before he told your mom.”
I stay quiet, waiting.
“He thought it was wrong,” Austin continues. “He tried to fight it. Tried to… push it down, I guess. But you can’t fight who you want, Billy. Trust me. I tried, too.”
I stare at him, trying to picture Dad… my dad… struggling with something like that. It doesn’t fit.
Another beer appears in my hand without me realizing it. The world is a little blurry but not in a bad way.
Austin leans back, one arm draped over the back of the couch. “For what it’s worth,” he says, “I’m glad you came. Your dad really misses you.”
I swallow hard, staring at the can. “Doesn’t change what he did.”
“Nope,” Austin says easily. “Doesn’t change how you feel, either. But it doesn’t have to stay like this forever.”
Then Austin leans over, resting his elbow on his knee, eyes narrowing like he’s just remembered something.
“So. This Rachel…” he says.
I tense immediately. “What about her?”
He smirks. “She’s your girlfriend, right? The one who keeps blowing up your phone?”
“She’s not blowing up my phone,” I mutter, checking my screen out of instinct. Three unread texts from her. I flip the phone facedown again. “We’ve been together a year.”
“A year, huh?” He whistles low, nodding like he’s impressed. “Serious stuff.”
“It is!” I spit out, sharper than I mean to.
Austin holds his hands up like he’s surrendering. “Relax, dude. I’m not mocking you. I think it’s cool.”
I sink deeper into the couch. The beer’s loosening my tongue, and before I can stop myself, I’m saying, “She’s… she’s the best thing in my life, man. When Mom and Dad…” I pause, swallow. “When all that went down, she was the only thing that kept me… normal.”
Austin’s quiet for a second, studying me.
I shift uncomfortably, wishing I hadn’t said that much.
“So,” he says after a beat, the smirk coming back, “you two… done the deed yet?”
I choke on my beer again. “What!”
Austin bursts out laughing. “C’mon, you’re eighteen. Don’t act like you don’t think about it every ten seconds.”
“C’mon, Billy,” he pushes, nudging my shin with his socked foot. “I was eighteen once. That’s all I thought about. Music, football and getting laid. Don’t pretend you’re different.”
“I’m not,” I mutter, defensive without meaning to be.
“So you do think about it,” he says, grinning like he’s won something.
I don’t know why, maybe it’s the beer but I blurt out: “Not like that.”
Austin blinks. “Not like what?”
I look away “With Rachel. I mean, yeah, she’s hot. Crazy hot. But I don’t… I don’t sit around fantasizing about her all the time.”
Austin tilts his head, studying me. “You love her though,” he says finally.
“Yeah,” I answer immediately, too quickly. “I do. She’s… she’s everything, man.”
Austin considers this. “Maybe you’re scared.”
I glance at him sharply. “Of what?”
“Of wanting her,” he says simply.
I scoff, shaking my head. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t I?” he asks, eyebrow raised. “You’re eighteen, in love with a girl who looks like she walked off the cover of a magazine, and you’ve been dating her a year. If you haven’t done it yet, fine. That’s your choice. But don’t tell me you never think about it. I bet she hasn’t even blown you.”
I looked over at him outraged. But he just laughed. “Has anyone?”
I stare at the floor, jaw tight. “It’s not like that with us.”
Austin takes a long drink, watching me over the top of his drink. “Then what’s it like?”
“It’s…” I trail off, frustrated because the words don’t exist. “She makes me feel... safe.”
Austin studies me for a moment, something soft flickering in his expression. Then he leans forward, resting his forearms on his knees.
“Safe’s good,” he says quietly. “But safe and turned-on aren’t the same thing.”
The words hang there, heavy, and I feel my face get hot.
Austin breaks the silence first, his tone casual but his eyes sharp. “So… are you sure it’s Rachel you’re not thinking about? Or is it girls in general?”
I jerk my head up, scowling. “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”
He shrugs, holding up his hands. “Hey, I’m not judging. I’m just saying — maybe you’re over here tying yourself in knots ‘cause you think you’re supposed to want her a certain way.”
I shake my head hard. “No. That’s not it. I do want her.”
“Just not the way you think you should,” Austin says, leaning back again.
“I didn’t say that,” I snap.
Austin smirks faintly, watching me squirm. “Touchy subject, huh?”
I down the rest of my beer in one go, just to have something to do with my hands. “You’re an asshole.”
“Yeah,” he says easily. “But I’m not wrong.”
I look at him, really look at him, and it pisses me off how effortlessly he sits there… relaxed, confident, teasing me without even trying. He shouldn’t be likable. He shouldn’t make me laugh. He shouldn’t make me curious.
And that thought alone makes my stomach flip.
“How long,” I say before I can stop myself, “before it… you know. Happened.”
Austin seems to enjoy going back to the topic. “That night at the cabin. Your mom was visiting her sister. We had a bit too much to drink, talking about life, and…” He shrugs.
I make a face, shaking my head fast. “Nope. Don’t need visuals.”
Austin laughs. “But you’re dying to know which one of us is on top,” he says.
I practically choke to death on my beer. “Dude! Jesus! Shut up!”
Austin laughs so hard he nearly spills his drink. “I knew it!”
“Not funny,” I snap, but my face is on fire, and he knows it.
“Little funny,” he says, winking.
And dammit, I laugh again.
I don’t know how many beers I’m on now. Four? Five? Am I slurring? Maybe a little…
The TV’s still muted. We’re not watching it. Neither of us is really watching anything.
“You know what’s funny,” Austin says suddenly, swirling the last inch of his beer. “Your dad wasn’t into guys. At all.”
I glance at him. “Yeah, no shit.”
He grins faintly. “I mean it. Before me? Never even thought about it. Not once.”
That lands weird. I frown, staring at the empty can in my hand. “Then… why you?”
Austin shrugs like it’s simple. “Sometimes you meet someone and it doesn’t matter if it makes sense. Doesn’t matter if you’ve never thought about it before.”
I shake my head, frustrated. “That’s so… stupid.”
“Trust me, kid, he fought it. Hard. Tried to ignore it, bury it, drink it away. We both did. Didn’t work.”
I lean back, stare at the ceiling, exhaling through my nose. I don’t want to picture my dad like that.
Austin notices. “Don’t look at me like that,” he says, grinning crookedly. “It’s not my fault I’m irresistible.”
I groan into my hands. “Jesus Christ.”
“Hey, I didn’t make the rules,” he says, chuckling. “Your dad didn’t stand a chance. Besides I had a secret weapon.”
“Oh yeah?” I asked, biting despite myself. “And what’s that?”
He leaned in as he lowered his voice, conspiratorially, “I have a mancunt.”
He winked.
I stared at him in shock, honestly not expecting that. “A what?”
“It’s true,” he crowed. “Some men just have them and they’re incredibly hard to resist.”
I couldn’t help but look down at his crotch. I could see there was a slight bulge so he definitely had a dick, even though I didn’t particularly need to know that. I was confused. “Do you mean…?”
“Don’t worry, I’m still a real man,” he laughed as he grabbed his bulge and gave it a squeeze. “It’s just my hole is way more receptive and hungry than most guys.”|
I shook my head in disgust. “So you mean your asshole?”
He laughed, “it’s way more than just an asshole. Trust me. Your dad could tell you that.”
My phone buzzes again on the arm of the couch. Rachel. I glance at the screen, relieved for the interruption, but don’t reply this time.
Rach: You alive? How’s it going?
Rach: Billy?
I flip the phone face-down and take another swig instead.
Austin notices. “She checking in again?”
“Yeah.”
“You gonna answer?”
I shrug. “Later.”
He raises an eyebrow but doesn’t push.
“How long’s Dad usually gone on these calls?” I ask, trying to sound casual. As if we hadn’t been talking about my uncle’s hole only seconds ago.
Austin takes his time answering, scratching his pec. “When it’s this late? Could be all night.”
That lands heavier than I expect. I nod slowly, looking down at my beer. “Huh.”
I glance over and catch sight of his thighs as he stretches out… hairy, solid, thick with muscle. Bigger than mine. I hate that I notice, but I do. His shorts ride up as he sits, and I catch a glimpse of his glutes… heavy, chunky, the kind you only get from years of squats. Nothing like Rachel’s soft curves.
What the fuck did he mean by mancunt? How is it different to a regular asshole? Doesn’t every guy have one? What did he mean… hungry?
I look away fast, cracking open another beer just to give my hands something to do.
“You work out a lot,” I mutter, instantly regretting it.
He glances over, amused. “Trying to say something, Parker?”
I shrug, keeping my eyes on the can in my hands. “Just… noticed.”
“Yeah,” he says, stretching his arms overhead lazily. “Four, five days a week. Gotta keep up with your dad somehow. Guy’s a beast.”
I snort. “Gross.”
He grins. “What, picturing us spotting each other?”
I don’t answer, but he catches the corner of my mouth twitching anyway.
“You’re a lot like him,” he says finally.
“My dad?”
“Yeah. Same chip on your shoulder.”
I shake my head, scoffing. “I’m nothing like him.”
Austin just takes a swig, not arguing. “Sure, kid.”
At some point, he leans over me to grab the remote from the cushion. As he does, his hand lands on my thigh for half a second… casual, nothing… but I freeze.
Suddenly I’m hyper-aware of how close he’s sitting. He smells like beer and something warm I can’t name. I hate that I notice.
I shift slightly, putting a little space between us, but Austin just grins like he knows exactly what just happened.
“You good?” he asks, too casual.
“Yeah,” I say, a little too fast.
Our faces are close. Closer than I realized. I can see the faint stubble along his jaw, the way his chest rises and falls, the curve of his mouth. His breath smells faintly like beer, and I hate myself for thinking it’s… nice.
I swallow hard and look away, but not fast enough. What the fuck was happening to me?
“Something on your mind?” he says, voice low.
“Nope,” I say immediately, shaking my head.
But I don’t break eye contact. Neither does he.
The silence stretches, pulling tight between us. My heart’s pounding in my ears.
And then, for a stupid half-second, this thought flashes across my head… if I leaned forward, just a little, our lips would touch. In my pants, my penis gives the slightest twitch. I wondered if Austin’s mancunt was doing the same thing.
I shove it down instantly. What the hell’s wrong with me? This is my dad’s partner. My uncle. It’s messed up. It’s wrong.
But Austin’s looking at me like he knows. Like he can see straight through me. “You’re thinking about it, aren’t you? My mancunt?”
I can feel my face turning bright red. How did he know?
He just grins. “If you’re lucky I’ll let you touch it.”
I clear my throat, sit up fast, and grab my beer. “I’m gonna… get some water.”
Austin leans back, smirking faintly. “Sure thing, kid.”
When I come back from the kitchen with a glass of water, my phone goes off on the armrest again. I don’t have to check it to know it’s Rachel.
I don’t pick it up.
Austin notices, obviously. “Not gonna answer?”
“Nah,” I say, forcing a shrug. “It’s late.”
He watches me for a beat, nodding slowly like he knows exactly what’s going on but won’t say it out loud.
I shouldn’t feel like this. Whatever this even is. I feel like I'm under a spell.
I love Rachel. I want Rachel. I’ve wanted this weekend with her for months. And yet here I am, ignoring her texts, sitting on this couch with Austin, feeling something I can’t name.
It feels like betrayal, but I don’t even know who I’m betraying.
Mom? Dad? Rachel?
All of them?
I stare at the muted TV, trying to pretend none of it’s happening.
“You get too serious in your head,” he says quietly, not looking at me.
“I’m not,” I lie.
He laughs softly, almost to himself. “Yeah, you are.”
I don’t answer. Can’t.
I shift slightly, leaning back into the couch, and Austin’s arm is just there, draped behind me. Close enough that I can really smell him now. There’s the faint salt of sweat, like he’s been moving around all day, layered with something warmer, heavier, the kind of smell that sticks to a guy’s skin when he lives in T-shirts. A hint of whatever product he uses in his hair, sharp and clean under it all, but mostly it’s just… male.
I’m not used to noticing that. I’m not supposed to like it. But I do, and it throws me. Guys shouldn't notice other guys like this.
Rachel smells like strawberries and shampoo. Always perfect, always soft. Austin smells like the opposite of that, and somehow it hits harder.
I breathe in again before I can stop myself, just to be sure I’m not imagining it, and yeah… it’s there. It’s him.
His arm slides down from the back of the couch onto my shoulder so it’s semi-wrapped around me. We’re close.
His voice is low. “You can touch it if you want.”
I stare at him but don’t say a word. I know what he’s talking about. I’m not going to pretend otherwise. I just sit there dumbly while he scoots his hips down so his butt is hanging off the edge of the couch. He pulls down the back of his shorts just a touch. His crotch is still covered but his ass cheeks are clearly exposed, even though I can’t quite see them.
I don’t move. He gently picks up my right hand and guides my forefinger up to his lips. He gently brings his lips around it, suckling on my finger, bathing it in his spit, without a hint of teeth.
Then he lowers my hand, leading it down under his thighs, to the warm crevice between his cheeks.
And then I feel it. His puckered hole. He gently rubs my finger up and down the soft flesh. It does feel like a vagina. Rachel once let me finger hers for a moment before she freaked out and made us stop. I still jacked off to that memory. This felt so similar. His hole was completely smooth, even though his face and body was kinda scruffy.
I could feel my breathing quicken as he used my finger to slowly circle his hole before I felt the ring relax and my finger slipped inside, just like it had slipped inside Rachel’s pussy.
Austin moaned with pleasure and I couldn’t help but do the same as I felt his warm insides squeeze down on my digits. This didn’t feel like an asshole. I knew enough about mine to know it was tight as fuck and nobody’s finger was ever going to just slip inside it. This felt welcoming, as if it wanted to be filled up. This truly was a mancunt.
It was a moment before I realised Austin had let go of my hand and I was pushing my finger in and out on my own, fucking him with my finger. It felt… powerful. Giving him pleasure. Touching him in his most private place.
By this point, my cock had hardened so fully in my pants, it was almost hurting as it strained for release. I was too scared to touch it so I just focussed on Austin’s mancunt, gently slipping in another finger. His hole accepted it gratefully.
Austin stared into my eyes as my fingers slid in and out of him, his breathing thick. “See?” he whispered huskily. “What did I tell you? Feel how tight it is? No man can resist it.”
The thought terrified me.
His lips were close to mine. We were practically breathing into each others mouths. “And you’re a man, Billy. You weren’t meant to bottle things up. You were meant to give in to your urges.”
My twitching cock seemed to agree with him, even though every thought in my head screamed no. But fuck… there was something about him. Even though he’s my uncle. My dad’s lover. What would it feel like? What would this mancunt feel like around my cock?
The ringtone of Austin’s phone cuts through the quiet, almost deafening.
I quickly pulled my fingers away, waves of relief and guilt washing over me at what I had just allowed myself to do.
He fishes out his phone, checks the screen, and mutters, “It’s your dad.” Then he thumbs it on, like he’s been expecting it.
“Yeah?” Austin says, voice low and casual. “Hey, babe.”
I tense at that word. “Babe.” Hearing Austin call my dad that… weirdly still hits like a punch. Especially when I’d just had my fingers inside him.
I turn my attention to the muted TV, pretending not to listen, but I can hear Dad’s voice faint and muffled on the other end, quick and steady like he always sounds when he’s on call.
“Mm-hm,” Austin says finally. “Nah, don’t worry about us. We’re fine.”
He rests his hand on the back of my neck when he says it. Gently stroking my hair. Holds my gaze like he knows exactly what he’s doing.
“Yeah,” he goes on, nodding slightly, still looking right at me. “Kid’s… warming up, I think.”
I shift uncomfortably but don’t look away
Austin smiles as if he’s talking directly to me. No, seriously. Don’t stress. We’ll be good.” He pauses, listening. “Yeah, I’ll make sure he eats something before bed.”
Another pause, shorter this time, and then he says, softer, still staring directly at me: “Yeah. Love you too.”
Something about hearing that makes my stomach knot up.
Austin ends the call, lowers the phone, and ever so casually, as if we’ve done it a thousand times before, leans in and kisses me on the lips. And the thing is… I just let him. I didn’t pull away. I just let his lips linger on mine. I even opened my mouth a tiny bit so that our tongues touched. His lips felt so much firmer than Rachel’s. His skin rougher, laced with stubble. I could taste the beer on his breath. It felt so different. But good. Fuck it. It felt great.
Then he gently pulled away, as if we hadn’t just French kissed like lovers.
“Doc says he’ll be gone a while,” Austin says, laying back on the couch. “Probably past midnight. Maybe later.”
I nod, my heart hammering in disbelief over what just happened. “Cool.”
“He asked how we’re getting along.”
“And you told him I’m warming up?”
Austin smirks faintly. “I said I think you’re warming up.”
He leans forward, close enough now that I can feel the heat coming off him. “I also told him I’d give you something to eat.” He paused as he gazed into my eyes. “Do you want something to eat?”
For some reason, I knew exactly what he was talking about even though he hadn’t said it.
And the worst part was, I fucking did. I wanted to eat his pussy. Eating pussy was the thing I most want to do. It was the first thing I was going to do with Rachel on our motel night. I try not to watch too much porn because I’ve heard it’s bad for the brain and teaches men disrespect for women but the one kind of porn I can’t help but watch once in a while is men eating pussy. Hearing the women groan as they squirm with pleasure. It always excited me so much. I always wanted to know how that felt. To give someone that feeling.
But this wasn’t a pussy. Not really. It was a fucking asshole! And my uncle’s one at that!
But Austin just ran his finger across my lips as if he knew exactly what I was thinking. “It’s just the same, Billy. Maybe better.”
“What about…” I started but he shushed me gently.
“I won’t tell anyone if you won’t. It’ll be our little secret.”
He saw me hesitating, overthinking…
“Look,” he says, voice low and steady, “feelings don’t wait for permission, Billy.” And with that, he pulled off his shorts completely. “Go for it, kid.”
He gave me a gentle nudge and I let myself drop to my knees on the floor, between his thighs. He pulled his legs back, revealing his mancunt to me in all its glory. And fuck – I couldn’t deny how hot it looked! It was right there, inches from my face. I might never have an opportunity like this again.
I didn’t hold back. I planted myself face-first between his thighs and started eating out his musky mancunt. I ran my tongue up and down his slit as he cried out with pleasure, his body writhing under my touch. All that did was spur me on. I ate his pussy like it was giving me life. I couldn’t believe I was finally getting to eat pussy! This wasn’t quiet how I’d planned it but as his body quivered thanks to my tongue, I didn’t care. It felt better than I had hoped.
I slobbered all over his hole for close to ten minutes, trying different patterns and tongue-fucking him, pushing my spit deeper and deeper into his passage. My face was soaking wet with my own saliva. I was like a total pig!
Austin looked down at me. “You should take your pants off, Billy. It can’t be comfortable with that hard-on of yours practically tearing a hole in them.”
And he was right. I’d been so focussed at being such a good cunt-eater that I hadn’t even looked after myself. So I unbuttoned my pants and released my eight-inch throbbing rod.
Austin’s eyes lit up as he saw it. He reached forward and wrapped his hand around it, giving it a tentative stroke to feel its girth and weight. I groaned involuntarily. Nobody had ever touched my shaft before!
“Damn, boy,” he grinned. “You’re almost as big as your daddy… and he really stretches me out.”
The mention of my father almost broke me out of my reverie. “Austin…” I pleaded but he just pressed his lips against mine, swallowing my pitiful attempts to deny the inevitable. I should have wanted to stop. I should have tried harder. “I don’t want to cheat,” I whimpered as we came up for air.
“You’re not,” he grinned. “She can’t give you what I can.”
We both looked down. He had positioned the head of my 8” cock so it was resting against the lips of his mancunt. A drop of pre-cum dribbling out of my slit and glimmered over his anus, wet with my saliva, as my cock pulsed with my heartbeat.
“It’s OK,” he said, as if encouraging a scared tourist to take the leap at a bungee-jump.
I shook my head. “This can’t go in there,” I pleaded. “It’s too much…”
Austin stared deeply into my eyes, seeing how torn I was… how enslaved I was at this stage by my masculine hormones… my need for somebody to stop me before I gave in to my most primal urges. He smiled and nodded as if he understood. He cupped my head gently with one hand and pulled me in for a passionate kiss. We both gently moaned as our tongues fully explored each others mouths, rotating our heads to get deeper down each others throats.
And as I was lost in the embrace, he reached forward with his other hand, resting it on my hip and gently pulled me forward as he pushed his hips towards mine. I was helpless as my shaft was swallowed up by his hole, as if drawn inside like a magnet. I penetrated him fully, until my pole was completely buried in his warm cunt. And just like that, I had lost my virginity. The thing I had been saving for Rachel, the girl of my dreams, I had now given to my father’s boyfriend, completely giving into temptation.
“Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh,” I groaned, tormented by pleasure and guilt in perfect measure as I felt his insides welcome me. “I’m… I’m… fucking you.”
Austin smiled at me, lost in his own feelings of pleasure, “Don’t worry. This had to happen. Now give into it.”
And so I did. I gave in. I was going to fuck this mancunt.
I sighed as I pulled my thick erection out to the head and then pushed it back in, all the way to my balls. I rotated my hips gently, wanting to feel all the sides of this tight pussy, as I started thrusting into Austin again and again. His hole welcomed me completely, tight but velvety smooth, as if it had been craving my cock and was now being rewarded.
“How does it feel? Do you like it?” he asked.
“Yes! Fuck yes!!” I exclaimed. This was a thousand times better than all the times I’d jacked off after everyone had gone to bed.
He pulled my T-shirt off me so I was fully naked, our sweaty bodies grinding together.
“That’s it, boy,” he whispered. “Fuck your uncle. It feels good, doesn’t it?”
I nodded dopily, jacked up on oxytocin, as I held onto his hips, pulling him into me, finding the perfect erotic rhythm for the two of us.
Austin arched his back, allowing me deeper access into his inner most passage. I could feel his cunt pulsing and clamping down on me, massaging my shaft, sending waves of pleasure through my quivering body. His hands explored my torso, toying with my sensitive nipples, and rubbing his hands down my well-defined pecs and abs, worshipping my body.
“Mmphhh… mmmm…. uhhh…. mmmm… uhhh,” I sighed as I bum-fucked him, completely ignoring my phone next to me, buzzing with notifications from my girlfriend, as I gave in to my lust, giving my most sacred sexual gift to somebody else. Because on some level, I knew in that moment, that my life with Rachel was a lie. It had all gone away the minute my cock had entered my uncle’s pussy. I couldn’t be with her for the rest of my life. This was who I was now. I was a man who liked to fuck mancunt.
I leaned forward, allowing Austin to rest his ankles on my shoulders as I pushed him deeper into the couch, pile-driving into his guts. The smell of his sweat was intoxicating – musky and rich, totally masculine – as I kissed his neck, tonguing up the salty scent. I was like an animal! I had never thought I would find a man’s sweat arousing, let alone wanting to taste it! But here I was… uncaged.
I could feel his own stiff hardon rubbing against my abs as I plowed him but I didn’t mind. I was fascinated that he was so aroused by me railing him that he didn’t even need to touch it.
“See?” he whispered. “This is what men can do for each other. Why would you want to deny yourself this?”
My thrusts started to grow with intensity as Austin and I alternated between boozy beer-soaked passionate kisses, suckling on each others tongues, and staring into each others eyes, grinning at our forbidden act. Any time I felt any guilt, I just pounded him harder. And everytime I pounded him harder, Austin just moaned louder with enjoyment as if he was getting exactly what he wanted. And his enjoyment just made me think of my father and girlfriend, bringing back my guilt. And so the cycle continued.
I hoped with all my might that Dad wouldn’t be home to see this. The ultimate betrayal. Cucked by his own son. Or was I the victim here? Seduced by my own uncle?
And what would Rachel think? If she caught me balls deep in my uncle, my husband’s lover, ass-fucking him like it was the most natural thing on earth? To be honest, I didn’t care. Because Austin was right. On some level, I knew deep down that she would never be able to satisfy me like he could right now.
I looked down and felt my cock expand even more as I watched it, slick with spit, get sucked into his tight asshole, over and over. I didn’t want this feeling to ever end.
“Oh fuck,” I gasped. “I’m not going to be able to hold off for much longer.”
Austin clutched onto my ass cheeks as he pulled me in deeper, “Do it, Billy. Breed me. Give me that seed!”
I could feel his cunt muscles clamping down on my meat, trying to milk my load out of me.
I felt my eyes roll back as my orgasm rose up like a tsunami, causing me to fire spurt after spurt of hot creamy boy batter inside his bowels. I was almost seeing fireworks!
“UHHHHH!!!!!! UHHHH!!! UHHHHHH!!” I cried in agonizing pleasure as I filled Austin up with my load. I’d never blown like this before. I almost thought my orgasm would never end but finally I collapsed in sweaty, breathless exhaustion, on top of him.
He wrapped his arms around me, kissing me on the top of my head, as he pulled me in close. “That was amazing, Billy. You’re one sexy fucker.”
I grinned as I lay there, feeling completely safe and comfortable in his arms, letting our breathing regulate, finally slowing back down. I felt something warm and sticky between us and realised my uncle had blown his own man-milk over my torso while I was lost in the throes of my climax. I fingered the gooey substance curiously, having never touched another man’s cum before. Austin brought my sticky fingers up to his mouth and licked them clean with a cheeky grin.
I leaned back to look my uncle in the face. As I stared at him, I realized how hot he was. How sexy. Why my father had been so tempted and given in to this man. He truly was irresistible. All joking aside. This man had unlocked something in me and I don’t think I could go back to how I was… nor did I want to.
His phone buzzed and he lazily reached over to check it. It was a message from my dad.
“Everything OK?” I asked, momentarily worried.
Austin grinned at me as he cuddled me. “He won’t be back until morning… which means… we have all night.” We French kissed for a minute or two. I had never been so aroused by kissing in my life. I didn’t want it to stop. But then he stood up and held out his hand. “Wanna come to bed?”
I gave him my hand, letting him pull me up, and we walked, hand in hand, me completely cockstruck and helpless to resist, as he lead me to my father’s bedroom for Round 2.
Hope you enjoyed this story! Always love hearing your feedback. Let me know if you’d like me to continue it…
To get in touch with the author, send them an email.
