He Was Mine First
The following morning, Leo woke up with a hard cock, his mind still replaying the heated scene he'd witnessed between his dad and Alex the day before. He reached across the bed, expecting to feel Alex's warm body beside him, but the sheets were cold and empty.
Groaning, he dragged himself out of bed and pulled on a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants before padding downstairs. As he approached the kitchen, he heard the low murmur of voices, his dad and Alex, whispering in hushed tones. The moment Leo stepped into the doorway, the conversation cut off abruptly.
Alex looked up, his cheeks flushing as their eyes met. His dad cleared his throat, shifting slightly in his seat. There was an undeniable tension in the air, a secretive energy that made Leo's pulse quicken.
"Morning," Leo muttered, his gaze flickering between them.
"Morning, son," his dad replied, a little too casually.
Alex offered a small, almost guilty smile before quickly looking away. The silence stretched, thick and loaded, leaving Leo to wonder just what they'd been discussing before he walked in.
"I think Buster needs some air, Leo. He’s been pacing by the door all morning."
The suggestion came from my dad, Frank. He didn't look up from his coffee, but there was a heaviness in his voice that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. It was a command disguised as casual conversation.
I looked at Alex, my boyfriend, who was sitting across the table from me. He was wearing nothing but a pair of loose gray sweatpants and a skin-tight white tank top that clung to his muscles. He was picking at a piece of toast, avoiding my gaze, but I saw the flush creeping up his neck.
"Yeah, sure," I said, my voice sounding tight and unnatural to my own ears. "I’ll take him down to the creek."
"Good idea," Dad said, finally looking up. His eyes flicked to Alex, a dark, possessive gleam in them that made my stomach churn. "Take your time. Alex and I have some... things to discuss. About the living arrangements."
"Okay," I mumbled. I stood up, grabbing Buster’s leash. "Come on, boy."
Buster trotted happily to the door, tail wagging. I hooked the leash to his collar and walked out into the blinding morning sun. The air was thick with humidity, the kind of summer heat that sticks to your skin. I walked down the driveway, turning the corner onto the sidewalk, and waited.
I counted to sixty in my head.
Then, I dropped Buster’s leash. "Stay," I whispered.
I crept back along the side of the house, staying low beneath the windows. My heart was hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. I knew what I was going to see. I knew it was sick, that I should just keep walking and take the dog to the park like a normal person. But the compulsion was stronger than my shame. I had to know.
I reached the kitchen window. The blinds were drawn, but there was a gap at the bottom, just big enough for me to see through.
The sight that greeted me hit me like a physical blow.
The kitchen island had been cleared. Alex was sprawled across it on his hands and knees, his toned back arched obscenely. The only thing covering him was a blue thong, riding up between his cheeks in a way that made my mouth go dry.
Dad stepped closer, his massive hands gripping Alex’s hips possessively. He didn’t even bother pulling the thong off, just hooked a thick finger under the fabric and yanked it aside, exposing Alex’s tight, pink hole.
“Fuck, look at you,” Dad growled, his voice rough with hunger.
Then he dropped to his knees behind Alex and buried his face between those perfect cheeks.
Alex let out a high, desperate moan, his fingers scrambling against the countertop. “Oh God—Frank—!”
Dad didn’t let up. He ate Alex out like a starving man, his tongue working deep, wet strokes that had Alex writhing. Every flick, every suck, every filthy slurp was deliberate, vicious, like he was determined to wreck him right there on the kitchen island.
“You taste fucking perfect,” Dad groaned against him, one hand sliding up Alex’s back to fist in his hair, yanking his head back. “Gonna make you come just like this, huh? Just from my tongue?”
Alex whimpered, his thighs trembling. “Y-yes—please—please—”
I should’ve looked away. I should’ve left.
But I didn’t.
I just stood there, my cock throbbing in my sweatpants as I watched Dad suddenly yank Alex off the island by his hips. Alex gasped as Dad bent him over the edge of the island, his muscular back arching beautifully as Dad shoved his face down against the granite.
God, the way Alex's body moved for him...
Dad didn't even bother removing the thong; he just tore the flimsy fabric aside with one rough tug before spitting directly onto Alex's exposed hole. My breath caught as Dad lined himself up, his thick cock pressing against that tight pink entrance.
"Frank—please—" Alex whimpered, fingers scrambling against the countertop.
Dad answered by slamming home in one brutal thrust, making Alex cry out as his body was stretched open. I could see every inch disappear inside him, could see the way Alex's muscles fluttered around Dad's girth as he bottomed out.
"Fuck, you take me so good," Dad growled, gripping Alex's hips hard enough to leave bruises as he started pounding into him without mercy. The wet slap of skin on skin filled the kitchen, mingling with Alex's desperate moans.
I should've left then, but I didn't.
I was transfixed.
"You're a dirty little slut, aren't you?" Dad growled, his hand coming down hard on Alex’s ass cheek.
Smack.
The sound was loud and sharp through the glass. Alex cried out, his back arching, pushing his ass back for more.
"Yes, Daddy! I'm your slut!" Alex screamed, his voice breathless and needy.
Smack. Another slap on the other cheek. Alex’s ass was turning a bright, angry red.
"You've been teasing me with this ass since you got here," Dad snarled, spitting a thick wad of saliva onto his thrusting cock. "Walking around in those tiny shorts. Bending over in front of me. You wanted this. You wanted Daddy to use you like a whore."
"I did! I wanted it so bad, Daddy! Please, keep fucking me! keep wrecking me!"
Dad set a punishing rhythm immediately. There was no warm-up, no gentleness. This was a fucking. He pistoned his hips, driving into Alex with enough force to make his body slam into the granite island. The sheer brutality of it was terrifying. Dad was treating him like a piece of meat, a fleshlight to be used, and Alex was begging for it.
"Take it," Dad commanded, gripping Alex’s hips with bruising force. "Take every inch."
He slammed forward, burying himself balls-deep in one brutal thrust. Alex howled, a sound that was half-pain, half-ecstasy, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the edge of the island.
"Fuck! Yes! Daddy!" Alex sobbed.
"Look at you," Dad spat, reaching forward to grab a handful of Alex’s sandy hair, yanking his head back. "Taking your boyfriend's dad's cock while he's out walking the dog. You're a disgrace. A slutty little whore."
"I am! I'm a whore for your cock, Daddy! Only yours!"
Dad released his hair and brought his hand down again, spanking Alex rhythmically in time with his thrusts.
Smack. Thrust. Smack. Thrust.
"Who owns this hole?" Dad demanded.
"You do, Daddy! You own it!"
I was glued to the spot. My own cock was straining against my shorts, so hard it hurt. I reached down, fumbling with the drawstring, and freed myself. I couldn't help it. The sight of my boyfriend being dominated so completely, the degradation, the raw power imbalance, it was like a drug to me. I wrapped my hand around my shaft, my eyes glued to the window.
Dad pulled out suddenly, leaving Alex’s hole gaping and clenching around nothing. Before Alex could whine at the loss, Dad flipped him over effortlessly. Alex landed on his back on the island, his legs thrown over Dad’s shoulders.
Dad leaned down, hovering over him, and spat directly into Alex’s open mouth.
"Swallow it," he ordered.
Alex did, greedily, his eyes rolling back in his head.
"Please, Daddy," Alex begged, reaching up to claw at Dad’s shoulders. "Please fuck me again. Don't stop."
Dad slammed back into him, hitting a depth that made Alex shriek.
I matched their rhythm with my hand, stroking myself violently. I felt dirty, exposed, jerking off in the bushes while my dad wrecked my boyfriend, but I couldn't stop. The sounds coming through the window, the wet slap of flesh, the grunts, the desperate begging, were overwhelming.
"You're gonna take my load," Dad growled, his pace becoming erratic. "Gonna fill you up so much it leaks out for days."
"Yes! Breed me, Daddy! Breed your slut!"
I watched Dad’s ass clench as he buried himself deep one last time, roaring like a beast. Alex screamed, his whole body seizing up as he came too, shooting thick white ropes all over his own chest and stomach without even touching himself.
I came too, biting my lip hard to stifle my own groan. I shot onto the side of the house, my knees buckling. I watched as Dad pulled out, a flood of cum following him, dripping down Alex’s ass onto the floor.
Dad leaned down and kissed Alex, hard and possessive, a kiss that claimed him. When they broke apart, Alex looked wrecked, blissed out, a fucked-out smile on his face.
I quickly tucked myself back into my pants, my face burning with shame. I couldn't watch anymore. I grabbed Buster’s leash and practically ran to the end of the driveway.
"Come on, Buster," I gasped, pulling the confused dog toward the park.
We walked for miles. My mind was a chaotic storm of emotions. Jealousy, yes. Anger, sure. But beneath all that was a dark, pulsating arousal that scared the hell out of me. I had watched my dad treat Alex like a whore, and I had loved it. I had jerked off to it.
What did that mean for us? For me and Alex? For our relationship? Was I not enough? Was I too boring? Too vanilla?
And what about Dad? He was my father. How could he do this? How could he betray me like this? But then I remembered the way Alex had looked at him. The hunger. Alex wasn't being forced. He wanted it. Needed it.
By the time I got back to the house, the sun was starting to set. I was exhausted, physically and emotionally. I let Buster into the backyard and walked into the house.
It was quiet. Too quiet.
I found Alex in our room. He was lying on the bed, wearing only a pair of boxers, scrolling through his phone. He looked up when I walked in, his expression guarded.
"Hey," he said softly. "Good walk?"
I looked at him. I saw the faint marks on his hips where Dad’s fingers had gripped him. I saw the lingering flush on his skin. I wanted to scream at him. I wanted to demand to know why. Why him? Why my dad?
But the words died in my throat. I just felt... tired.
"Yeah," I said, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Long walk."
We sat in silence for a moment. The air was thick with things unsaid.
"Leo," he started, his voice trembling slightly. "I—"
"Not now," I cut him off. I couldn't do it right now. I couldn't face the reality of it in the daylight. "Let's just... wait till dinner. Okay?"
Alex looked at me, his eyes searching mine, full of guilt and something else relief? "Okay," he whispered.
Dinner was a nightmare. We sat around the kitchen island, the same island where Dad had fucked Alex this morning. Dad acted completely normal. He cooked steak, drank wine, asked me about the dog. Alex barely spoke, picking at his food.
I wanted to throw my plate. I wanted to scream, "I saw you! I saw what you did!"
But I just ate my steak, my stomach churning with every bite. I waited. I waited until we were done, until the dishes were cleared.
I decided then and there. I wasn't going to be a coward. I wasn't going to pretend everything was fine while they laughed at me behind my back. Tomorrow. Tomorrow morning, I would confront them. I would force them to look me in the eye and tell me the truth.
I went to bed that night, lying as far away from Alex as possible. I heard him get up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom, and I wondered if he was going to Dad’s room. The thought kept me awake for hours, a knot of jealousy tightening in my chest. But he came back to bed, and eventually, I drifted off into a restless sleep.
The next morning, the atmosphere in the kitchen was suffocating. Dad was making coffee, whistling tunelessly. Alex was sitting at the island, staring into a mug of black coffee, looking like he hadn't slept a wink.
I walked in and the whistling stopped. Dad turned around, a mug in his hand.
"Morning, sport," he said, his voice calm. "Sleep well?"
"No," I said, my voice steadier than I felt. "I didn't."
I walked over to the island and stood opposite them. I looked at Alex, then at Dad.
"I know what you did," I said, the words rushing out. "I know what happened yesterday. In here. And the other day in the living room."
The silence was deafening. Alex went pale, dropping his gaze to the counter. Dad, however, didn't flinch. He took a slow sip of his coffee, his eyes locked on mine.
"Okay," Dad said simply.
"Okay?" I repeated, my voice rising. "That’s all you have to say? You fuck my boyfriend and you say 'okay'?"
"I suppose you watched," Dad said, his tone unreadable.
I felt the heat rise in my cheeks. "I... I came back. I saw."
Dad nodded. He set his mug down and leaned against the counter, crossing his massive arms over his chest. He looked at me, really looked at me, for the first time since this started.
"I think it's time we had an honest conversation, Leo," Dad said. "About me. About you. About us."
"I'm listening," I said, my jaw set tight.
"Your mother and I... we had a good life. But I have always been bisexual. I hid it for her, for the family, but it’s who I am. And I have always had a very high sex drive. A need for... control. For intensity."
He paused, glancing at Alex, who was still staring at the floor.
"Alex has a similar drive," Dad continued. "A need to be dominated. To be used. It’s not something he can just turn off. And frankly, neither can I."
"So that makes it okay?" I shot back. "You just use him because you're horny?"
"Leo," Dad’s voice sharpened. "Look at him. Really look at him."
I looked at Alex. He wasn't cowering. He was blushing, yes, but he was leaning toward Dad slightly, drawn to him like a magnet.
"Did I force him?" Dad asked. "Or did he beg for it?"
I remembered the sounds through the window. "Please, Daddy! Breed me!"
"He wanted it," I admitted quietly, the defeat crushing me.
"He needed it," Dad corrected. "And I think, deep down, you know why you didn't stop it. Why you didn't barge in yesterday."
I looked away, shame burning me. Dad stepped closer, placing a heavy hand on my shoulder. It wasn't aggressive. It was grounding.
"Listen to me, son. I'm not trying to steal him from you. I don't want the romance. I don't want the cuddling on the couch watching movies. That's your territory. I respect that. He loves you, Leo. You're his partner."
He squeezed my shoulder.
"But sexually... we can coexist. We can share him."
My head snapped up. "Share him?"
"Think about it," Dad said, his eyes intense. "You get the boyfriend. The love. The connection. I get the release. The roughness. He gets to have all his needs met, the love from you, the domination from me."
He let that sink in.
"It’s not about replacing you," Dad said softly. "It's about supplementing. We can make a schedule. Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays, Alex is yours. Tuesdays, Thursdays, Saturdays, he’s mine. Sundays we take off. Rest."
"It sounds insane," I whispered, though my cock was twitching traitorously at the thought.
"Is it?" Dad countered. "Look at the alternative. You lose him because you can't give him what he needs. Or you hide it, and let the jealousy eat you alive until you hate us both. This way... everyone wins."
He looked at Alex. "Tell him, Alex. Tell him what you want."
Alex finally looked up. His eyes were wet, filled with a desperate hope.
"Leo," he breathed, reaching out to take my hand. "I love you. I love you so much. But... Frank does something to me. He touches a part of me that I didn't know existed. It doesn't change how I feel about you. I swear. It just... it completes me."
He squeezed my hand tight.
"Please, Leo," he begged. "Can we try this? For us?"
I looked between them. My powerful, dominant father. My beautiful, needy boyfriend. The three of us, bound together by this twisted, taboo web.
I thought about the window. The violence. The pleasure. The way Alex had looked at me when I came into the room yesterday, knowing I knew.
"Respect," I said, my voice raspy. "You said you'd respect my nights."
"Absolutely," Dad vowed. "When he's with you, he's 100% with you. I won't interfere. And when he's with me... you don't have to watch if you don't want to. But the door... the door will be unlocked."
I took a deep breath. The knot in my chest loosened, replaced by a dark, exhilarating anticipation.
"Okay," I whispered. "Let's try it."
Dad smiled, a genuine, proud smile. He walked over and poured three fresh cups of coffee.
"Alright then," Dad said, handing Alex and me our mugs. "Welcome to the family, Alex. Properly this time."
Alex grinned, a mischievous glint returning to his eyes. He took a sip of his coffee, his tongue darting out to lick a drop from his lip.
"So," Alex said, looking at me over the rim of his cup. "What do you want to do today, Leo? It's Monday."
I looked at him, really seeing him. He was mine. At least for today.
"I have an idea," I said, my own confidence growing. "Let's go to the bedroom."
Alex's eyes widened, and he set his cup down with a clatter. "Yes, sir," he said, winking at me.
I stood up, taking his hand. Dad raised his coffee mug in a salute as we walked past.
"Have fun, boys," he called out.
I led Alex down the hallway, ready to reclaim what was mine, knowing that in just twenty-four hours, I'd be giving him back to the man who had showed us both exactly who we really were.
to be continued...
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