Dad's a God

Reader discretion is adviced, this story contain graphic content depicting violence and rape which may not be suitable to all readers. This is a fictional story and do not portray real events or real persons.

Jason

I probably shouldn’t have stormed out on dad like that but man, what a prick. I don’t know what he’s so busted up about. He’s the one that needs to apologize to me for treating me like shit. From the sound of it, he’s been pretty loose with that cock of his. He probably has a trail of young guys with sore asses just waiting for his texts. No wonder he and mom divorced when I was so young. She’s the one that left and now I know why. Dad’s just as gay as I am. Obviously.

I ended up going to the gym and I ripped through a tough chest workout. Working out always makes me feel better. It calms me and centers me. Plus, I like looking at myself in the mirror when I work out. Yes, I’m a narcissist, surprise! Like father, like son. But what can I say? My body is in its prime. And one good thing came out of tonight: I got the number of another hot married dude on the DL. Man, I love the gym. It’s the best place to pick up hot, muscular guys. I do need to tone it down, however. At this rate, I’m bound to get labeled a muscle slut. But then if that gets me more cock, then so be it.

I came home to an empty, dark house. Dad’s car was gone which was odd because dad never went anywhere at this hour of the night in the middle of the week. Not that I know of anyway. He liked to hit the sack early and get up early to get to the gym before work.

Fuck, I feel guilty for talking to my dad like I did. During my work out I had time to think, and I guess this is uncharted territory for us both. I didn’t think that it might be tough to switch from fuck buddy to dad just like that. I don’t like it when he is mad at me. I worship him and I hate disappointing him. But for some reason, I felt like he was already disappointed in me. It was like he was holding something against me. Calling me a slut outside the bedroom was odd. Is that what he really thinks of me? I also think he might be jealous of Tucker. I know he was watching us fuck earlier because he knew what we said during sex. We need to talk.

I picked up my phone and hesitated. I should text him to see where he is. Maybe he went to a bar and is drunk. I would need to go get him. Maybe I should call him. Yeah, that’s what I’ll do. It’s more personal that way.

Dad’s phone rang four times before he picked up.

“Michael’s phone,” a strange voice answered.

“Dad?” I asked confused.

“Nope. He’s…unavailable at the moment,” the voice said with a giggle. Whoever he was, he sounded young and quite frankly, gay. He sounded drunk too. “Who’s calling? Oh wait, caller ID says Jason. Hi Jason!” he said in a playful voice.

I hesitated and replied, “Uh…hi? Who is this?”

“Who are YOU?” he asked back. “You sound cute.”

“YOU first,” I answered with a gruff tone.

“No, YOU first,” he mimicked me.

That’s it. I’m not in the mood for this shit.

“Christ! I’m his son!” I barked into the phone. The line went silent for a few seconds.

“Oh shit, he has a kid?” the guy exclaimed, and now he sounded shocked.

That’s when I realized that dad was in the middle of a hook up.

“Where is he?” I demanded to know.

Suddenly sounding very sober he answered, “He’s in the shower. He’ll be out soon.”

“Who are you?” I demanded an answer again.

“Wade,” he replied in a scared voice. I hope he was shitting his pants.

“Well, WADE, tell my dad I called.”

“No message?”

“Oh, I think the message is loud and clear if you just tell him I called.” And I ended the call.

I guess dad wasn’t too upset about this morning. He wasted no time finding some gay sounding faggot to fuck. Sure, Tucker fucked me after school but that’s normal. Tucker isn’t some rando I picked up off Grindr. The kid sounded young too. Wait, why am I pissed? Dad can do whatever he wants. Why should I care. I got digits off some dude tonight AND I got Tucker. Let him go find some boy pussy if he wants to.

A few minutes later my phone rang. It was dad. Should I pick up? It would be interesting to hear what he had to say. I answered it.

“Yeah?” I answered.

“You called?”

“I did.”

“You need something? Condoms? Lube? More cock?” he asked passive aggressively.

I waited a while to answer so he would catch on that I wasn’t amused.

“Does Wade?” I jabbed back with the same passive aggressive tone.

“What do you want?” he asked, done with the back and forth.

“Nothing.”

“Why did you call then? You never call. You text.”

“Never mind. It’s not important,” I tried to sound like I wasn’t pouting. I’m this big, macho athlete but when it came to dad, I reverted to a 5-year-old when I was upset. He was used to it.

“Jason,” was all he said but he didn’t need to say anymore. That was his frustrated ‘stop fucking around’ voice

I was quiet and so was he. We were both quiet for a long time. I could hear his breathing, and then a heavy sigh came from his side of the call. I didn’t want to be pissed and I didn’t want him to be pissed. The worst thing in the world for me was when he was pissed with me. I hated it. I couldn’t take it. It always tore me up. I only wanted him to be proud of me.

“I was just calling to see how you were,” I said sincerely.

There was silence again for a few seconds.

“I’m fine,” he answered softly.

“Are you coming home tonight or…?”

“Yeah, I’m on my way now. Are YOU ok?” he asked sincerely.

“Yeah. I’m good. I’m sorry for calling you an asshole,” I told him.

“Let’s talk about this when I get home. Ok, son?”

“Yeah. See you when you get here.”

I ended the call and felt a lot better. There wasn’t a lot said in that call, but we can read each other’s mind sometimes. Things were going to be ok.

Tucker

“Oh god! Dude, your ass is so tight,” I said to the guy impaled on my cock.

“Fuck me,” he replied, muffled because his face was smashed into a pillow.

“No problem there, bro.”

I let him get used to it before I began sliding into and out of his meaty muscular ass. I heard him grunt and then moan. He was going to be one of those dudes who was too embarrassed to have another guy see his face as he got fucked. Dude was crazy in the closet.

“God damn it,” he murmured again into the pillow. “God damn it!” he wailed as he pounded a fist into the mattress.

I snickered. God, I loved fucking a big, muscular, masculine, hunky bottom. Hence, why I fuck Jason. This guy under me thought I was quite the fucking stud. And I lucked out finding a Jason-clone who wanted me to bone him. I know this guy has done this before. He got right down to business and is taking my cock like a pro. Surely, lots of one-night stands has given him plenty of practice.

When I left Jason’s house earlier that afternoon, I was pissed. Mostly pissed at his dad. He was being a real cock-bite. I didn’t like him putting me in the middle of their little lover’s quarrel or whatever that was. I felt sorry for Jason too. I cared about that big lug too much. I really wanted to slug Michael but that wouldn’t have helped anything.

I didn’t want to stay home. My fuck session with Jason didn’t go as long as I wanted, and I was still horned up. I didn’t get to come inside him because Michael came home, and Jason suddenly felt weird getting fucked by me after what happened the night before with his dad.

But tonight, I craved ass. I decided to go hunting for some as I do on many occasions. This is one thing I don’t tell Jason about. He thinks I’ve only done a few guys but really, I’ve done many. I was spoiled with Jason’s ass. He was so good looking and so fucking masculine, his body was perfect, and he wanted to fuck all the time. But so did I. I admit, if Jason wanted me for his own, I’d break up with the girlfriend and commit to him. But he wasn’t the boyfriend type, and I wasn’t going to chase something I can’t have. I’m not a fucking doormat.

When I go hunting, I like to look the part. I go to the gym and get a good pump to swell my muscles. I want to make sure my potential prey knows I’m ready to fuck. I give off an alpha vibe and it’s usually known right away when I target a guy, what is going to happen; they WILL end up on the receiving end of my bone.

I put on my “hunting uniform”. I poured myself into some extremely skintight faded jeans that molded to my quads and round muscle butt, some scuffed up Doc Martins; a tight, gray t-shirt with a college logo; and a red, ragged ball cap. I made up an excuse to tell my parents, told them I was going to Jason’s to study. I grabbed my fake ID and headed down to a little dive bar just at the edge of downtown where I had once scored a couple older dudes on the DL looking for cock. Tonight, I was feeling especially aggressive, in a pissy mood and needed to take out my aggression on some poor guy’s ass pussy. No bullshit from anyone tonight. I was in it to win it.

I walked in and within a few minutes I found my next victim. He was tall, taller than me, he was stacked, and he was hot! And that was just the back of him. He was shooting darts by himself when I saw him, his back turned toward me. That t-shirt was covering a CrossFit body; big traps, round shoulders, cut triceps. But those jeans, fuck, those jeans were covering a high and tight bubble butt that was begging to be ran through. His jeans look like they were painted on, I swear.

I walked around to get a different angle of the hunk. Fucking ruggedly handsome. Maybe a construction worker? I figured him to be mid to late twenties. Of course, older than me. He had a square jaw with dark stubble. He had curls of brown hair sticking out the back of his ball cap. It was thick too. The kind you want to grab onto and pull from behind while you fuck him.

I got a beer and leaned back against the wall within line of sight of the hot fucker. I watched him, his bicep flex when he brought the dart back before throwing. His big strong legs taking a wide stance. He was a fucking stud. God, he better be into dudes or I’m going to explode. Eventually, he gazed around and caught my eye. He looked away and then looked back. I continued to stare. He walked over to the target to retrieve his darts and walked back to the throwing line. He looked at me again before throwing the first dart. Bullseye. I continued to stare. I need him to hold eye contact to make sure I had a chance. He looked over at me again and this time, held my gaze. He then looked around as if to see if anyone was watching them. He looked back and nodded a hello. There we go. I’m in. I tipped the bill of my ballcap just ever so slightly. I watched him throw his darts. He was on the hunt too. I could tell. He was dressed like me, showing the goods, advertising his availability. He likes his men masculine, muscular, aggressive. He just looks like he can handle a rough fuck.

He threw his last dart. He took his beer and eased his way over to me against the wall. He had a swagger that was sexy as hell. His eyes never left mine as he took a drink as he approached. He licked the foam from his lips.

“You shoot?” he asked, nodding at the dartboard but detecting sexual inuendo. His eyes still glued to mine. No hi or hello, just, ‘you shoot?’ His voice was deep. I like deep voices. I like a deep voice screaming into a pillow.

“Yeah,” I answered before I took another drink.

“I’ve never seen you before. You shoot here?” he asked and his eyes, his blue eyes were still on mine. Oh yes, he’d done this before.

My eyes flickered down his body. I leaned a little to my side and directed my eyes around to his ass. I nodded my approval. “Oh, I shoot all over,” I said gruffly, continuing the innuendo.

He cocked an eyebrow. “Yeah? All over?” he replied with an eagerness in his voice. His eyes never blinking once.

“I’ll play with whoever can handle me.” I teased but with a straight face.

We both just looked at each other. His eyes fell down my body, taking it all in. They lingered on my biceps, then my chest before he nodded his head in approval.

“Wanna shoot inside me?” he shrugged nonchalantly.

“Thought you’d never ask,” I answered right away with a cocky sneer and then I chugged my beer down.

“I got a place close by. Wait a couple minutes and then meet me in the alley,” he instructed before he turned to leave.

He didn’t want anyone to see us leave together. I fucking love that. That meant he was so fucking far in the closet and those kinds of guys were the best fucks. They like rough sex so they can work out their frustration from not being able to he who they really are: Hungry bottoms.

I met him outside a few minutes later and we walked to his condo. He was quiet and didn’t say hardly anything. He would occasionally glance over at me walking by his side. One time he looked at me and just shook his head and let out a puff of air like a sigh.

“What?” I asked.

“Nuthin. Just, fucking wow. That’s all.” His voice was quiet and monotone.

I chuckled and that was all that was said until we got into his place. His condo was sweet. He was obviously a baseball fan. Framed autographed jerseys, signed baseballs and bats on the walls. It was a very masculine man’s home. Then there were the framed pictures all over of him and some girl. A picture of them in Hawaii, one on a hiking trip, and some candids. Nice, getting banged by dudes on the side. Priceless. But then, that’s I’m doing too. I haven’t talked to my girlfriend in a couple of days, sending her calls to voicemail. Answering texts in few words, lying to her about what I’ve been doing.

Hot guy shut the door and just kept walking, so I followed him. Followed him right up into his bedroom which was up in a loft over his living room with a view of the city. Damn, he must be loaded.

He suddenly turned around and pushed me against the wall and ran his hands over my chest and biceps.

“Shit,” he growled as he massaged my biceps. Then he slapped my pecs with open palms. “God damn,” he marveled. “Solid.” I smiled as I watched home ogle my body. I love it when dudes do that. Makes me feel superior. I think he was more into my body than anything else, probably has a fetish for muscle worship. I’ve done that before, some closet case who just wants to touch and ogle.

He stripped me, struggling with my skintight jeans, until I was naked. Then like a blur, he did the same and put his hat back on. Fuck, his body was fucking perfect. Almost as perfect as Jason’s. Leaving the ball cap on was a nice touch.

Time to get to work. I placed my hand on one of his muscular shoulders and applied pressure. He looked at me, he resisted but then defiantly slowly sank to his knees. I know I was stronger than him, bigger so he felt he had no choice. He looked up at me with those fucking beautiful blue eyes and I could have cum on him right then. Looking down and seeing this butch, beautiful, masculine man on his knees, his eyes asking my permission was beyond a wet dream.

He spun his hat around, so the bill was in the back, he took my crowbar hard cock and devoured it to the root without blinking. He skimmed it with his rough calloused hands as he sucked and licked it. Just the way he knew to spin his hat around was even hot.

I held on to the sides of his head and pulled him in until he gagged. I fucking love to hear a hot dude gag on my cock. He eventually leaned back, stroked my wet cock with his thick, vascular forearm flexing as he did it, his eye watery from the gagging as he looked up at me. He looked back down at my cock and then slapped the head against his face. FUCK, that was one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen.

I grabbed his head again and began to violently fuck his handsome face. He was gagging, choking, and drooling but I did not care. This is what I needed; to dominate and conquer. This is the way sex with a man is supposed to be. It’s supposed to be rough, aggressive, a power struggle with me as the winner. Jason knew that. I like to let a guy think sometimes that he has an upper hand and then I take back control.

I fucked his face and he deep throated me until I pulled him in until his nose was touching my pubes and I unloaded down his throat. He gagged and spit, but he still sucked the cum out of me. Finally, I released him, and he fell back onto that perfect ass, panting, wiping his mouth off with the back of his hand. He took it just like Jason does. Fucking perfect.

“Jesus, dude,” he said in awe of me and my cock. He spun his hat back around to the front.

“You into my muscle, dude?” I asked while I flexed.

“Fuck yeah,” he said and licked his lips.

“We’re just getting started, you hot fucker,” I said as I bent down, grabbed him under the armpits, lifted him up and pushed him back onto the bed.

I crawled on top of him, it was like lying on a rock, his body was so hard and muscular. I spread his big legs and went in between them, my cock against his, humping his dominantly. I felt his legs come up to my sides. I pinned his forearms back beside his ears. He looked up at me with lust and with a little fear. I don’t know if he knew what he was getting into before, but it was dawning on him now. He wrapped his arms around my wide back and felt my muscle. I reached for a bottle of lube next to the bed. I dumped a bunch into my hand, reached under, slathered some on my cock and his hole.

I fingered his hole while he continued to feel me up. I dove straight down to his mouth with my own. He stopped me.

“Dude, I don’t kiss,” he said sternly.

I guffawed and looked at him like he was fucking crazy. No kissing? He’s one of THOSE guys. He’ll suck cock and get fucked but kissing was too gay. Fucking closet case.

I laughed, it was fake and condescending. “Listen up, straight boy. Either you kiss me or I’m walking. I don’t have time for your inner conflict bullshit. You kiss or I walk.”

He looked angry and he put his hands on my chest to push me up. He was going to let me walk? He was calling me out? Wow, he did have issues.

I stopped him. I was not going to lose this hot piece of ass tonight. No way.

“You don’t want to do this, dude.” I took his arms and pinned them. I was seething. This fucking closet faggot was not going to deny me. Not tonight. Not ever.

“Yeah, I do. Get off,” he said defiantly.

“Seriously. You don’t want to tangle with me,” I threatened.

He struggled while I pushed down.

“I can take you, man,” he assured me. “You wanna throw down, dude? Let’s go.”

I looked at him and his size which rivaled my own. “Maybe you can give me a run for my money, but you don’t want to find out. Trust me.”

I was a scrapper. I was always good for a rousing fist fight. Jason and I had teamed up multiple times to fuck up some jackass and his boys who was being assholes. I loved watching Jason fight. It was hot, showing his strength, his athleticism, his power. It made me so fucking horny. I loved it so much that afterwards, I’d take him somewhere and fuck him senseless.

I could tell straight boy was thinking long and hard about his next move. All this struggling and he was still hard as a rock. Maybe he did this for every guy because he liked to be forced. Maybe he had some kind of rape fantasy. At that moment, I was willing to indulge him. Telling an 18-year-old kid with raging hormones, no, that never ended well.

“Kiss me, faggot,” I taunted him with fire in my eyes, taunting him. I wanted him angry.

“Don’t fucking call me a faggot, faggot!” he shot back. Now, I was pissed.

“I don’t have time for his,” I growled as I quickly let go of his arms, grabbed my cock, aimed for his hole, and thrust in without permission. He yelled out in pain and in surprise.

I gave him a good slap to the face and said, “Don’t play games…with…me!” I thrust hard with each word. He pushed up on my chest and continued to struggle, yelling out as he did.

“You want this,” I growled, using my weight and strength to hold him in place. His body twisted and turned trying to break free. I just looked down with a determined look and then sneered. “Don’t fucking tell me you don’t.”

If this guy only knew he was being taken down by a high school kid.

“Fuck YOU!” he snarled through gritted teeth.

I started to pummel his hole all the while he was still struggling. His face was beat red, a vein popping on his forehead. He was punching my shoulders with both fists. His cap came off. At one point, he swiped my ballcap off trying to swat my head.

“Fight me. Just makes it tighter,” I taunted. I took his flailing legs and put them up on my shoulders and pressed his knees to his chest and then I pinned his forearms again above his shoulders. This was a position hard to get out of for him.

“You’re a dead man,” he threatened with fire in his eyes. I laughed.

I put my face nose to nose with his. “Kiss me and I’ll stop,” I growled giving him an ultimatum.

“NO!” he bellowed, turning his head to the side. “I’ll fucking ruin you.”

“Listen, straight boy, you’ve got a big dick in your faggot ass and 200 pounds of muscle holding you down. I’m going to keep pounding out your ass until I get some tongue from you. Trust me, I can go for hours. Can you?”

He turned back to me with defiance in his face. The, suddenly, he closed his eyes, and a moan escaped his lips. I could feel his ass relaxing. He was starting to like it. I slowed down my pace. His eyes opened and they rolled back in his head.

“Shiiit,” he hissed. I was long dicking him.

“Are you going to kiss me now, straight boy,” I whispered breathlessly.

I corkscrewed down into him, gyrating my hips, just like Jason loves. He moaned again, his dick hard. I knew I could break him down.

His eyes clenched shut and his mouth open. I took that opportunity and took advantage of his vulnerable lips and lunged for his mouth. I clamped down, stuck my tongue in and swirled it around. His eyes opened and he mumbled something into my mouth. I ignored it and kept kissing. I’m a fucking great kisser.

Finally, he began to kiss back. His complaints turned to muffled moans. His tongue began wrestling with mine. God, I love kissing a dude when my dick is in him.

I released his forearms, sensing no danger. Immediately, his arms wrapped around my neck, pulling me in harder. His ankles tightened against my neck. One of his hands grabbed a handful of my hair. The other grabbing onto my bicep and squeezing.

I released his legs from my shoulders, and they automatically wrapped around my waist. I grasped his hard cock and stroked it as I continued to fuck him. He moaned with pleasure.

I broke the kiss, but he wanted more, pulling my head down towards his lips. I stopped.

“Not so fucking bad, is it, straight boy?” I told him before I allowed him to pull me into for another make out session. He mumbled out a positive response, I’m sure.

I slowed down my strokes, enjoying the feel of his tight hole clenching my cock. He responded by splitting his legs open into the air and grabbing his ankles, he held his legs out like a wishbone. Oh yeah, he was a slut alright. He held them out like a whore. This is how he likes it. He probably fucks his girlfriend like this. He’s in her position now and he likes feeling what she feels every time he fucks her. He likes his men to treat him like a bitch he sleeps with.

“Fuck me,” he hissed through clenched teeth.

“Yeah, cooperating like a good little faggot, are ya?” I sneered. I was having an adrenaline surge. “Fucking you like a girl. You want it like a girl? Huh, straight boy? Fuck your wet pussy and then fill it with my boys?” That made him really moan. I was excellent at fuck-talk. Jason loves my fuck-talk.

“Straight boy likes to be treated like a bitch, huh? That’s a good girl,” I taunted.

He pulled his legs back farther while spreading them. “Fuck my pussy, stud.”

“Yeah, fucking your used up pussy,” I grabbed his jaw and squeezed making his lips curl. “You a good girl? You my good little pussy girl?”

He nodded his head rapidly. “Uh huh.”

“Yeah? Good girl. You like my cock in your messy cunt?”

“Oh god, yes!”

“You a good little slut for daddy?”

“Yes! I’m a fucking slut for your cock!”

I laughed. “Good girl.”

“You lifting these big legs for a lot of guys, huh? Opening up your big, muscular body for cock? Doing it behind your girl’s back.”

He nodded. “She doesn’t know,” he panted.

This beautiful man with the CrossFit body just agreed he was a big, fucking, slutty bitch.

I think I’ll keep him.

“You’re fucking holding your legs open, begging for cock. Fucking straight boy giving his ass up for cock. You’re a fucking wet dream. I wish your girl could see you now. She’d think you’re a pathetic faggot, enjoying a real man fucking you.”

He nodded his head.

“And your buds, say goodbye to them, except the ones that keep you around to suck their dicks.”

“I’m such a faggot, dude. I can’t help it,” he revealed, vulnerable.

“I know you are, baby,” I kissed him. “You’re a big tough guy but really, you just want to be a bitch.”

“Cum inside my pussy? Knock me up,” he pleaded.

“Yeah, I’ll impregnate you with my boys.”

He held on tight, I picked up my pace until I felt my balls tighten up. I leaned down and kissed him and howled into his mouth as I shot a huge load that was meant for Jason, deep inside straight boy’s sloppy hole. Then he came without even touching himself.

I relaxed on top of him, and his arms embraced my back, and he lowered his muscular legs.

I kissed him again. He kissed back nice and deep.

“Fuck. You’re a great piece of ass, dude,” I told him with a squeeze of his big shoulder.

“I ought to kick your ass.”

“Dude, get over it. You wanted it.”

“What makes you think I wanted to be raped?”

“You, big guy, could take me and you didn’t. You wanted to get destroyed. Makes you feel less guilty, like you had no choice to you let dominate men have their way with you.”

“You think? I think your wrong.”

“And what’s up with the no kissing? You’re getting fucked for fuck’s sake. Why not go full gay?”

He was quiet and frustrated he said, “Because I told myself if I kiss then that really means I’m gay. I’m not a fag.”

I chuckled. “Oh, I think you are.”

“No, I’m not.”

“No guy, bi or straight, likes being demeaned and fucked hard as much as you do. Trust me, I’ve been with bi and “straight” guys. You, dude, need to rethink your life.”

“Are you gay?” he asked, curious.

“Nah, I’m bi.”

“Huh,” he murmured.

“So, you think I’m…hot?”

I looked at him like he just said something stupid. Well, he did. “What the fuck? Dude, you are a walking wet dream. Why else do you think so many guys hook up with you?”

“I dunno. I thought I put off a vibe or something.”

“Nah, bro. You are a prime piece of ass.”

He rolled is beautiful eyes.

“What? You are, dude. Own that shit. You like to get fucked.”

“By the way, you’re good at dirty-talk,” he smiled. “I like dirty talk.”

“I’ve had practice. A buddy of mine likes it. Hey, I just adjust my talk according to the dude I’m with. You ate that shit up.”

“Yeah. I did. It’s like you were reading my mind.”

“I just know guys like you, that’s all.”

“Yeah? Like your buddy?” he asked.

I thought about Jason and how much he gets off when I degrade him.

“Yeah. He’s a whore for that shit.”

“All those things you said about my girlfriend and my buddies, that’s all true,” he admitted.

“I know.”

“And those things you said about wanting to be fucked like a woman by a real man, right on the nose. I just didn’t know how to verbalize it.”

“What else did you like, stud?”

“You kept calling me your good girl.” He suddenly looked humiliated and shy. He was embarrassed. “Dude, that made me want to cum.”

“Yeah, trust me, I felt your hole getting tight like a vise,” I laughed.

“So, I never do this but, can I get your number? I really want to do this again,” he asked shyly. He had just stepped across a threshold he never thought he’d cross.

I smiled and stroked his stubbly cheek. “Yeah, straight boy?

He nodded as he lay his hand on my forearm of the the arm caressing his cheek.

I put my lips to his, but I didn’t kiss. “You want to be my girl?” I asked in a whisper.

He sighed. “Yeah. I do.”

“Your pussy all mine, straight boy?”

“All yours, dude.”

“Good girl.”

I kissed him and settled in.

“Let’s fuck, babe,” I told him.

“By the way, I’m Jackson,” he put out his hand to shake.

I laughed. “Nice to fuck you, Jackson. I’m Tucker.”