The bolt slips again and I smack my knuckles hard enough against the frame to hiss through my teeth.
“Fuck.”
“You always sweet-talk your car like that?”
I jerk a little at the voice and roll halfway out from under the Honda. Mr. Harrison’s standing at the edge of the driveway holding some gardening gloves like he’s been there awhile. Sunlight catches the gray at his temples.
“Depends,” I say. “You spying on me?”
He snorts.
Mr. Harrison is my our next door neighbor and the father of my middle school best friend, Landon. I spent many nights at their house when I was 11-13, that span of years when I was growing into my body and beginning to notice other people’s bodies. And I definitely noticed Mr. Harrison’s body.
He was a single father, so it was always just him and Landon at home. And as is expected of an all-male household, things were extremely casual. I got my fair share of glances of Mr. Harrison’s bare beefy chest covered in dark hair, of his strong waist that was equally broad and tapered, of his heavy and huge soft cock swinging in the boxers he wore every evening. Unfortunately, I never got to see what was under them.
To say I had a crush on Mr. Harrison was an understatement.
Mr. Harrison was always like a second father to me, especially since my own dad was always so focused on work. I have intense memories of Mr. Harrison’s big meaty hands lifting me by the waist and throwing me into the pool. Of him tucking Landon and I into bed whenever I’d stay over, giving each of us a kiss on the forehead. I especially remember an instance when I was 13—the three of us were swimming in their backyard pool, roughhousing as boys and men tend to do. The feeling of Mr. Harrison’s strong hands on my tight, smooth body was getting to me. As were the swift feelings of the front of my torso against his strong back as I climbed on top of him, or the slight touch of my own hands on his big hairy pecs. Before I knew it I was rock hard in my swim trunks.
“I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” I said, and quickly got out of the pool, keeping my back toward Landon and Mr. Harrison as I made my way indoors to the bathroom. Once there, I immediately pulled down my trunks and gripped my raging hard boy cock. At the time, I was deep in the process of puberty, so my cock had grown to a considerable 5 inches and had a small patch of blond pubes around it. I sat on the closed toilet and closed my eyes, imagining Mr. Harrison and I alone in their pool.
I imagined swimming up to him, him reaching out and pull my swim trunks off to reveal my hard boy cock.
I imagined wrapping my legs around his strong waist, wrapping my arms around his neck and then kissing him.
I imagined the simultaneous feeling of his stubbles against my smooth face and my hard cock against his muscular hairy belly.
I imagined him pushing himself up onto the pool’s ledge, his big hard hairy cock bouncing in its newfound freedom and a cascade of water falling from his body. How bad I wanted this to all be true. How bad I wanted to swim up to the ledge and taste my best friend’s dad’s cock.
As I was nearing my orgasm, to my complete shock and horror, the bathroom door swung open. Apparently, I had forgotten to lock it. Mr. Harrison took a step into the room before realizing what he was seeing—me sitting on his toilet, naked and hard, stroking my teenage cock. Despite my shock and embarrassment, I couldn’t help but notice how the drops of water were rolling down his hairy torso. How streams from the pool flowed down the strong v-lines at his waist, down into his hidden crotch.
“Mr. H, I’m so sorry,” I began to stammer, quickly picking up my trunks and hurrying to put them back on.
Mr. H started to chuckle. “There’s no shame, kid. I should have knocked.” Before I could even redress he was closing the door behind him, still chuckling to himself.
The next week or so after that incident felt incredibly awkward, although Mr. Harrison never acknowledged what had happened or treated me any differently. It was all in my head. Slowly, I grew more at ease and resumed the natural comfort of being in the household, although my sexual desire for Mr. Harrison never went away.
Now, I’m 18 and in college. A freshmen wrestler with the body to prove it. I never grew above 5’10”, but what I lacked in height I made up for in toned muscle. My toned stomach, big biceps, and even bigger legs all combined with my dirty blond hair to give me a classic all-American boy jock next door look.
I’m back home for the summer, spending most of my time training at the local gym or working on my old car like I am today. It’s hot already, middle of July heat pressing down on everything. My T-shirt’s sticking to my chest and there’s grease smeared across my forearm. Mr. Harrison looks like he’s been outside all morning too. Faded jeans, old work boots, sleeves cut off a dark green shirt that’s damp around the collar. His big biceps are covered in a sheen of sweat, and his meaty forearms are covered in dark brown hair. I imagine his cock and balls would smell so good right now.
I try not to think about that.
“Need help, Garret?” he asks. Landon and I grew distant in high school when I started wrestling and he started running track. But even though we didn’t hang out as much, Mr. Harrison was still always around, being neighborly.
“I’m good,” I say.
“You’ve said ‘fuck’ like six times,” he says. “I could hear it from my backyard.” Then he laughs, and it’s the same laugh from when I was 13, exposing my horniness to him in his bathroom.
“That’s how repairs work,” I tell him, giving him a sly grin.
He laughs quietly to himself and lays his gloves on the car.
“You home all summer?” he asks.
“Till August.”
“Wrestling starts back up then?”
“Conditioning before that.” I wipe sweat off my forehead with the bottom of my shirt, exposing my lower stomach. “Coach likes making us suffer.”
His eyes flick briefly to my stomach where the shirt lifts, exposing my dirty blond treasure trail. The look was fast, but still enough to notice. I’ve given him the same look countless times. While I may still feel like a teenage boy around Mr. Harrison, my adult brazenness doesn’t disappear. I know what I’m doing when I lift up my shirt like that.
“I can tell,” he says.
“Tell what?” I say.
“That you train hard. You’ve packed on some serious muscle since going to college.”
I blush.
“Not the scrawny kid wrestling with Landon in the basement anymore.”
“True,” I say, “could maybe even take you on now.”
He chuckles, “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”
He nods toward his backyard. “Actually, if you’re looking for something to do, I’ve got tomato plants staging a hostile takeover back there.”
“You’re asking me to garden?”
“I’m asking if the big wrestler boy can carry mulch,” he says.
“I can probably manage,” I say.
“I’ll provide beer.”
“Say no more.”
He grins then, and the dimples catch me off guard.
“C’mon,” he says. “An hour, tops.”
_______________________________________
It turns into almost three.
The yard’s overgrown in a comfortable way, not messy exactly. Tomatoes climbing too high. Weeds around the fence. Bags of soil stacked near the shed. Cicadas buzz loud enough to blur into the heat.
Despite not owning a yard of my own, this is the second time in the last two or three months I’ve found myself doing some gardening. Near the end of May, as the semester began to close, I volunteered to help Dr. Graham with his own yard work.
Dr. Graham was my political science professor, a 40-something bachelor with the body of a retired coach. Our sexual relationship began in the few minutes before his class started, when I messaged a blank profile on Grindr that was less than 100 feet away. The only response I got before class started was a picture of the anonymous man’s cock—hard, 7.5 inches, cut, and with a thick brown bush. The dick was jutting out from a pair of nice brown chinos being pulled down by a strong hand wearing a silver watch. The same watch and chinos Dr. Graham was wearing that day.
After months of being fucked by Mr. Graham, he coerced me into helping him in the garden. His yard was huge and private, with emerald green grass that surely took way too much water to maintain. We gardened for about an hour before our hormones took over and I found myself riding his dick on the ground in the middle of the yard. Being exposed like that, even if the yard was private, was an incredible experience. The load I shot with Dr. Graham’s cock inside me covered his face. If only I could repeat that experience with Mr. Harrison.
Mr. H and I work side by side mostly without talking at first. Despite my wrestling background, I can’t say I’m too fond of manual labor. But I want to impress Mr. Harrison. I want him to think I’ve grown into a manly and hardworking adult, just like him.
Mr. Harrison moves like a man used to physical work. Not gym muscles. Real strength. He squats to lift heavy bags instead of bending, forearms flexing under tanned skin. Sweat darkens the middle of his shirt.
I keep catching myself watching him. The worst part is I don’t think I’m being subtle. At one point he reaches over me for a pair of clippers and his chest brushes my shoulder for maybe half a second. I can smell the mixture of sweat and body wash on his skin, and it takes all of my concentration not to pop a boner right there in his back yard.
At a certain point, maybe around the hour and a half mark, his shirt comes off. His pecs are as big, if not bigger, than I remember. They’re still covered in dark hair. His nipples are still pink and quarter-sized. Even though he’s covered in sweat I want nothing more than to suck on them.
His torso is also solid pack of muscle, as if punching him in the stomach would hurt me more than him. The layer of hair trails all the way down into the waistband of his shorts.
We continue working like that for a few minutes, with me watching his biceps bulge out the corner of my eye every time he lifts something. Periodically, he raises his arm to wipe sweat from his forehead, showing me his hairy sweat covered pits.
Eventually, I decide to follow suit and remove my own shirt. He gives a long, unashamed once over. I fell proud of my muscular wrestlers build and hope he likes what he sees.
“You wrestlers eat as much as people say?” he asks.
“Depends,” I respond.
“The way your mom talks about your grocery bill tells me yes.”
I laugh. “My mom exaggerates.”
“She told me you ate nine burgers on Memorial Day.,” he says with a shit-eating grin.
“They were sliders!”
“That’s still insane.”
I shrug. “Practice twice a day burns a lot.”
He chuckles that same chuckle, shaking his head before returning to his weeds.
Once we’re both shirtless, there’s a small shift in energy. Nothing obvious. He doesn’t suddenly start flirting outright. But we stand a little closer. The pauses get longer. Every accidental touch hangs around a second too long afterward.
And I can feel myself getting more aware of him by the minute. His voice especially. Low and rough and calm all the time. The kind of voice that makes you like being told what to do.
“You missed one,” he says behind me.
I turn and nearly walk straight into him.
Close. Really close. I can smell cut grass and sweat and sunscreen on him. He reaches past me toward a thick weed near the fence, his arm brushing lightly against my ribs as he leans in. I can feel the arm hairs on my stomach. I wish I could feel them everywhere.
By the time we finish, the sun’s lower and everything smells like wet dirt and tomato plants. My shorts are soaked through. There’s mud streaked across my shin. Mr. Harrison wipes the back of his wrist across his forehead.
“Hot tub’s still running from last night,” he says casually. “You probably need it more than I do after carrying half my yard around.”
My chest tightens immediately. I try to answer normally. “Yeah?”
“It really helped my back after work yesterday,” he says. “You can borrow trunks if you want.”
“I’ve got compression shorts under these.”
“That works too,” he says.
_______________________________________
His hot tub isn’t huge, but what it lacks in size it makes up for in ambience. Mr. H has a symmetrical array of golden string lights hanging above the hot tub, giving it a golden heavenly glow.
Only seconds before I remove my shorts to get in the hot tub, I remember what compression shorts I’m wearing—specifically, what color. And my heart sinks. The water is going to immediately turn my white underwear clear as the water itself, and I have assure myself that as long as I stay submerged until dark, it won’t be an issue.
Mr. Harrison dips his hand in the tub, the jets already running full speed. “The temperature is perfect, it’s all ready for us.”
Although I’m wearing my compressions shorts, I still expect Mr. Harrison to go change into swim trunks. Instead, as if the universe pulled the strings for my favor, he drops his shorts right there revealing his black briefs containing a huge bulge. The time between him dropping his shorts and getting into the hot tub is brief, but it’s enough time for me to wonder if his dick wasn’t completely soft, the bulge being suspiciously large for a soft cock.
We sit opposite each other, him with his arms resting on the sides of the jacuzzi. Within minutes of getting into the hot tub I’m hard as a rock, stealthily squeezing my cock through shorts. I can’t help but stare at his bare chest, entering a sort of trance as I watch the water lap his huge pecs, wetting the dark cover of chest hair, every so often exposing his big pink nipples. His pecs are so round and huge, and his nipples so inviting. My craving in the moment is to latch on to either side and suck.
“So,” he says, breaking the silence, “how was your first year of college?”
I shrug. “Not bad. I did pretty well for a freshmen wrestler. Got good grades. Made some friends. Can’t complain.”
He nods. “Landon did well, too. Although I’m a bit offended he chose to stay there to work all summer.” Landon and I went to different state colleges.
“Hopefully he’s making decent money,” I say.
Mr. H laughs, “I think he stayed more for the pretty coworker he’s been dating than the money.”
Landon and I haven’t kept up with each other’s lives much, or at least I haven’t his. So this was news to me.
“How about you, kiddo?” Mr. H asks.
“How about me, what?”
“Are you dating anyone?” I try not to linger on the anyone. I haven’t come out to anyone except a couple of close college friends.
“Nah, wrestling keeps me pretty busy.”
He just nods. “I’m sure when you have time you’ll find no trouble locking someone down. You’re way too good looking for that.”
My cock twitches under the water, still rock hard since getting into the tub.
A lightbulb directly above me flickers and then goes dark.
“Ugh,” Me. H says, “that one pesky bulb has been giving me trouble. Keeps getting loosened.” In a split second my heart sinks at what I predict is coming next. “Would you mind reaching up and tightening it for me, bud?”
While the bulb is directly above me, it would require me to stand on the jacuzzi’s bench to reach it. There’s a 0% chance I could tighten that bulb and have my rock hard boner, now completely visible through my wet shorts, go unnoticed.
“Uhhh, I don’t think it’s a big deal, Mr. H. The lightening is still really good.”
“Yeah, I’m not worried about the lighting. I’m just worried it’ll loosen more and then fall in the water.”
I hesitate, and then decide that partial honesty is my most likely ticket out. “Listen, my shorts are a bit see-through at the moment. I don’t want you to have to see all that.”
He shakes his head. “No biggie, kid. Nothing we both know I haven’t seen before.” He winks.
I take a big gulp and let it go, slowly rising and stepping up into the bench. The few seconds it takes me to tighten the bulb feel like minutes. I’m incredibly aware of Mr. Harrison’s eyes locked onto my hard cock, which must be visible down to the veins through my compressions shorts. Mid-tighten, I hear Mr. Harrison let out an almost-inaudible growl. The sound of his deep voice makes my cock twitch, which I’m sure he sees, and I can feel some pre cum escape from the tip. With my hands still grasping the bulb, I take a quick glance down at Mr. Harrison. He’s sitting where he has been all night, his beefy arms resting on the ledge of the tub, his hairy pecs half-submerged in the water, staring directly at my cock. I see him lick his lips.
“Damn, kid. That’s a big piece,” he says as the bulb comes to life and I step back down. “Bet the guys in the locker room love getting an eyeful of that.”
I get butterflies. It feels as if there’s a tipping point and I’m about to go over. But instead, Mr. H goes over first. “Stand back up, son.” He orders. And I do.
He glides over and reaches for my waistband. When he pulls it down, using his big hands matted with wet hair, my cock springs up to my stomach with a pop.
“If it weren’t for the blond I’d think you were my own,” he says with a grin, and then engulfs my hard cock in his mouth. I moan out, louder than I intended. I can feel his warm tongue swirling around my hard boy cock, his mouth going up and down my shaft.
“Fuck, Mr. H. That feels incredible.” He moans with my cock still in his mouth, making it vibrate. It’s by far the best head I’ve ever received.
While he keeps sucking, I can see him pull his own briefs down, but I can’t see his cock because of the jets. “When you walked in on me jerking off that one time, I was fantasizing about being naked with you in the pool. About seeing your big dad cock hard and wet.”
He pulls off my cock. “Well do you want to see it now?” I nod enthusiastically.
Mr. Harrison then stands up, and it’s a vision directly from my horniest dreams. The force the water cascading from his muscular body cause his hard naked cock to bounce a couple of times. Streams of water run from his hairy pecs, down his solid stomach, through his thick bush, and off of his big daddy balls, which are loose and hanging low from the hot tub’s water. His dick looks to be about 8 inches. Cut and with a big pink head. Thick, symmetrical and with a very subtle curve upward. A cock that I would describe as perfect.
“It’s all yours, kiddo,” he says in his deep sexy voice.
Not needing to be told twice, I close the between us and grab his hard, giant cock before he can change his mind. I feel the soft surface, encasing a hard blood-filled dick begging to be sucked. I put my warm lips around the big head. Tracing the surface with my tongue. The tip of his dick tastes like a salty mix of precut, sweat, and chlorine. I slowly, inch-by-inch, take the rest of Mr. Harrison’s cock into my mouth. I hear him let out small moans, which turn into big moans as the last couple of inches enter my mouth. Now, my nose is buried in his thick, wet bush.
“Damn, they teach you how to do that in college?” With his cock still in my mouth, I look up at his grinning face.
I slide off his dick and say, “I may have gotten some private lessons from one of my professors.”
“Well the test isn’t done yet. Keep sucking, son,” he says. So I do as he says. I suck on his meaty daddy cock for what feels like hours, but in the best way possible. At one point, he puts his strong hands on the back of my head and guides my mouth on and off his cock. At another point, he holds my head still and face fucks me, his low hanging balls slapping against my chin with every thrust. The smell of his sweaty, musky crotch is intoxicating, and I feel dunk off his cock.
Eventually, he pulls me off his dick. “I need to test those lips, boy.” He sits back down, his hard, dripping cock disappearing back into the water like an orca resubmerging itself after coming up for air, and pulls me into his lap. My hard 7 inches is pressed against his strong stomach as we begin to kiss passionately. HIs stubbled face feels so good against my smooth one. HIs lips are plump and his tongue explores the inside of my mouth just like I’ve always hoped it someday would. I moan into his mouth, and he wraps one of his meaty hands around my thick teen cock and begins to stroke.
I submerge more of my body into the water until I’m eye level with his chest, then I latch onto one of his big hairy pink nipples and suck hard. He lets out a low moan and I can feel his cock hump against my chest.
I break from the sucking, “This is a dream come true, Mr. H,” I say, staring into his green eyes.
“For me too, kiddo.” He kisses me again, and then pulls away. “Enough with the Mr. H shit though, I’m your daddy now.”
My smile feels like it reaches both ears, “Are you going to fuck me, daddy?”
“If you’re patient, son,” he responds. “Now bend over the side of the tub.”
I quickly do as he says, arching my back so my juicy wrestler butt is his for the taking. Without hesitation, he buries his face between my round furry cheeks. The sensation of his stubble against my hole drives me wild, making my cocker harder and leakier than I thought possible. His tongue explores every detail of inside and outside my tight hole. He moans into my hole, spits into it, whispers “You’re dad’s good boy” into it. He does everything he can to make my pink boy hole feel loved and owned before the inevitable moment when he eventually pushes his thick daddy cock into it.
While he’s hyper-focused on eating my hole, he also reaches between my legs and wraps his hand around my leaking cock, stroking it while he plunges his tongue in and out of my hole.
It takes my full concentration to not cum then and there, and I think he can tell.
“Let’s move to the bedroom,” he says.
I quickly follow him inside and to his bedroom, my hard cock leading the way. His bedroom is one I know well. Landon and I would often come in here to watch TV on his big bed.
When we enter the room, he turns to face me. His big hands grab me by the waist and pull me against his burly body. His lips meet mine and we passionately make out once again. Then he lifts me onto to the bed and grabs a bottle of lube from the dresser.
“Are you ready for daddy to fuck you?” He asks while lining up his big throbbing cock.
“I’m so ready, sir. Tell me how you want me.” He grins big.
“All fours.” And I do as he says.
The moment his thick cock penetrates my jock hole, all of my senses, all of my lust, all of my wildest fantasies come crashing into me. It’s as if I was breaking free of any inhibition—a whole world opening up inside that I never wanted to leave. I could feel every inch of his cock in my hole. I felt it so intensely I could imagine feeling each individual vein. I moaned as the last inches of his dick filled my insides and I felt his hairy bush against my ass.
“Daddy’s finally inside you, son. How’s it feel?” He asks me.
“It’s the best feeling in the world, dad.”
“Mmmmm, good boy, kiddo.” And with that, he pulls back until just the tip of his perfect daddy cock is still inside me, and then with a loud slap thrusts every last inch back into me.
I scream out in pleasure as he does it again, and again, and again. I can feel and hear his big daddy balls slapping my taint with each thrust. He eventually settles into a rhythm of pounding my hungry hole. A hole that’s needed him for years. I turn my head and watch his beefy body owning my ass. His big hairy chest, juicy nipples, sturdy abdomen, all moving away and then back into me. I meet his gaze and we stare at each other while he pounds away—a father figure and his boy locked in absolute pleasure.
“I’ve always loved you like a son, kid,” he says, not stopping his fucking my ass. “It’s been such a pleasure to watch you grow into such a sexy young man.”
“And now you get to pound the ass of this sexy young man,” I say with a sly smile. His grin widens.
“That’s fucking right. Now get on top of me.”
He pulls his raging hard cock out of me with a plop and rolls over onto his back. I quickly straddle him, reach behind to grab his large cock and guide it back into my hole which opens up eagerly to take him back in. I waste no time in riding his big daddy cock. My own cock is throbbing hard, leaking precum all over his hairy stomach. I can feel my loose balls brush his hairy pubes every time I take him all the way down. The whole time I’m staring directly into his fatherly green eyes.
“This is the best view in the whole world, daddy,” I say.
“I’d argue that mine is even better, son.”
I start to pick up speed, and as I do, I lean forward and grab each of his globular hairy pecs in my hands to steady myself. I’m really bouncing on his hard daddy dick now, my own boy cock slapping against his hairy stomach with each bounce.
Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.
The coarse hair against my hard sensitive dick drives me crazy. The whole time I never break away from his stare.
“Fuckkk, that feels so good, kid.” He moans, his eyes tipping up back into his head.
“Do you like your sexy boy bouncing on your cock like this, daddy?” I ask. “Do you like watching my jock body go up and down on your dick?”
“I fucking love it baby,” he responds. He rubs his big meaty hands all over my body, over my abs, my perky nipples, my chest. He reaches back and squeezes my ass cheeks hard, adding his strength to my downward motions.
“Your hole is so tight,” he says. “It’s milking my big dad cock so well.”
His dick is curved just right, every thrust brushes against my g-spot, sending tingles through my body. My cock has leaked a puddle of precum onto his hairy stomach. I scoop it up with my fingers and bring it to my lips.
“I want to taste, boy” he says. I lean down, while still thrusting on his cock, and make out with him, my salty precum covering both of our lips. In this position, my cock is being milked between our stomachs, sending me closer and closer to the edge.
“I think I’m gonna cum, daddy,” I say, breaking our kiss.
“Do it, baby. Shoot your load all over daddy.”
With his permission, my body enters a euphoric state as I unload rope after rope of hot boy cum all over him. Our foreheads our pressed together and I can feel some of my cum hitting our chins. I can fell my hole tighten its grip on his cock with every spasm. I look down and he globs of cum all through this dark chest hair.
As if a switch flipped, he quickly, without his dick leaving my hole flipped me over onto my back and start pounding me furiously. Still coming down from my orgasm, I just hazily stare at his big broad body as he pounds my hole while holding my ankles in the air.
“Daddy’s gonna fill you up with his cum soon, boy,” he tells me. “Do you want that?”
I can feel a big stupid grin spread across my face. “Yes please, dad.” I reach up and start rubbing his hairy pecs and nipples. I can’t help but watch his hairy bush and the thick base of his dick as he pounds me. I can tell by the way his body is tensing that he’s close to cumming.
“Here it comes, stud,” he says as his breathing gets heavier. His pounding gets even more frantic, the slapping of his balls gets quicker. His body tenses up and his eyes roll back. “Fuckkkk,” he growls in his deep manly voice.
I can feel his thick cock spasming inside me as each hot jet of dad cum fills my hole. He leans forward and steadies himself, and I wrap legs around his torso and my arms around his neck.
I can feel his hot breath on me as I whisper in his ear, “I’ve been waiting years to have your cum inside me.”
I can feel him smile. “I’m so glad my kiddo is back from college.” He slowly pulls his cock out of me, and we collapse onto the bed, my arms still wrapped around him, too afraid to let go. His big arms wrap around me too. It’s not long before I fall asleep in his arms.
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