Hi all! This story will go over the romantic, and sexual ;) relationship formed between Dylan Emerson (19) and his father, Michael Emerson (45). NO AI was used in the making of this story. Tags will be updated/fulfilled as the story progresses (all good things come to those who wait)
If you see any weird sentences, grammar, and/or spelling mistakes, I do not have a proofreader, so no, you didn’t. As the story progresses, there will be switches in perspectives between Dylan and Michael to see their perspectives on events. As always, thank you for reading! My email is [email protected] for any private requests, comments, support, etc. So if you like where the story is going, anything you want to see, story suggestions for this story or another, or anything else, please let me know! As always, positive ratings and comments on the story itself are always welcome. Any other details you may want can be found on my profile page. But enough talking, let's begin with the story.
Dylan:
“Thanks, Dad,” I said, reaching for the tall glass filled with a berry smoothie. The unyielding heat of summer already had the glass dripping with condensation, but I didn’t mind. I was finally home after a full semester away from my first year of college. My university required that I spend my first year on campus to get a feel for campus life, despite being within a commutable distance. I quickly found a feel for campus life, as I installed Grindr and found an abundance of potential flings. But out of all the seemingly endless torso pics and DL accounts, none were close enough to whom I truly wanted to be with. Since I was fifteen and saw my dad pull himself out of our pool, I knew he was exactly my type, and since that day, the driving force behind countless of my fantasies. A nicely tanned, taller, and older man who had a nice broad chest that noticeably stretched the white tank top he wore. Similarly, like his tank top that demonstrated the silent strength and prominent size of his chest, the worn blue jeans he wore stretched against his thighs. Thick arms that bore tattoos slightly obscured by some hair. The muscles, the result of working as a construction worker, glistened in the light of my open window as he held out the glass. comfortably paired with a nice hairy dad bod, all of which is covered in a perfect amount of hair. He wore a baseball cap, which helped shield his face and covered his brown hair, which greyed as it approached his short classic full beard.
“No problem kiddo, whatcha up to?” He said, reaching up and removing his cap to run his hand through his hair. Watching his arm raise, I took the moment to sneak a glance at his hairy armpits, hoping he wouldn't notice. What I would give to be pressed up against them and have all my worries be melted away as his warm musk washed over me.
“Was watching a movie,” I respond, closing the open laptop on my lap and pushing it aside while sipping the drink in an attempt to cool myself off from thinking about my dad in such a way. The wave of cold washed through my body as a fresh relief from the summer heat and my own apparent lust. “Good drink as always,” I say, raising the glass to him before continuing to drink from it.
“Thanks Dyl,” He said, “I was thinking that maybe we should take a dip in the pool out back to beat the heat? I know we have not done that in a while, and it’ll be nice to hang with you now that you’re back.” His Green-Hazel eyes locked onto mine with a glint of anticipation and nervousness, as if I would turn him down.
“That sounds like a good idea, Dad,” I responded, sitting up in my bed and placing the now-drained glass on my bedstand. “I’ll meet you down there in five?”
“Sounds good son,” Dad responds, his eyes flickering across my body before grabbing the empty glass and leaving my room, closing the door. Standing up, I remove my comfortably worn tee, shorts, and underwear, haphazardly tossing them into my laundry basket that stood next to my closet door. Walking in I pulled open a basket and found my blue swim trunks. They had become a little tight, but the same tightness definitely helped show off my tight ass when attending someone's house party instead of studying. Pulling my swim trunks on, I took a moment to look at my reflection in the mirror. I noticed I had gained some weight, not much to be noticeable, though. Still small compared to my dad's height of 6’4” I stood a thin 5' 8” with some slight muscle, little to no body hair, and a relatively flat torso. Quickly, I ran my hands through my shaggy black hair before exiting my room and heading downstairs.
Opening the door to the backyard, my dad was already standing on the patio. Two towels were laid across two chairs, respectively, that sat next to an unused fireplace. Hearing the door sliding open and closed, he turned, grinning when he saw me. For a moment, I thought I saw his eyes linger on the slight bulge of my trunks, but it was hard to tell as stepping into the sun's light temporarily made it hard to see.
“Hey kiddo, come here, I could use a hand putting on this sunscreen,” He said as I heard the opening of a tube of sunscreen. Adjusting to the light, I could see that he simply wore a tight red Speedo that proudly showed off what must be a grand asset of my father's. His bush and teasing happy trail, which was hairier than the surrounding parts of his body, showed in nearly full display.
“Alright,” I said, perhaps a little too quickly as I forced my eyes away from the delicious sight, knowing that I would have all night to think about it. Taking the tube from my dad's large hand, I squeezed some of the thick, white sunscreen onto my fingers and rubbed them together. My dad had turned as he was presenting his large, wide back to me.
“I already got everything but my back, so if you wouldn't mind.” His deep voice said as a small amount of disappointment ran through me, sad that I wouldn't have an excuse to touch the rest of him. But perhaps that was for the best as I ran my hands along his back, knowing that if I had to rub his entire body, there might be a chance I could not hide my excitement. Running my hands along his broad back, I could feel the strength in his back muscles even now as I rubbed them. A back with handsomely broad shoulders that someone could scratch at from beneath him came down to a waist I could wrap my legs around. Once everything was rubbed in, I handed the tube back to him, saying, “If you could return the favor.”
“Sure son,” he chuckled, smiling an infectious smile at me. He squirted the sunscreen onto his hands and began to apply it to me. The sensation of my dad's firm yet careful hands gliding over my skin was one of dreams to me as he rubbed my torso, arms, and back. When he got to my legs, I could have sworn that I felt a finger slip slightly up my swimtrunks further than it should have been, as if he was testing me for a reaction. Without a reaction, he simply continued on his way, moving back down the leg. Once I was fully lathered, he closed the bottle once more and threw it on one of the nearby chairs.
“The last one in is a rotten egg!” He shouted, pushing past me.
“Hey no fair!” I shouted back, reaching forward to grab him, but my hand slipped off his body. He splashed into the pool with a dive seconds before my cannonball broke the water.
We swam in the pool till sunset, enjoying each other's company in the pool as we had since we got the house. From diving competitions, Marco Polo, and swimming races, to just floating, by the time we pulled ourselves out of the pool, we were exhausted.
“I’m a little too tired to cook Dyl, I'm thinking we just order in a pizza?” My dad said as he draped a towel over me.
“Sounds good dad,” I responded as I began to dry my hair with my towel.
As we dried off with the towels outside it allowed me to take in even more of my father. Since I developed this affection for him, I knew it was wrong. But how could something that felt so right be so wrong? I must have been caught in a trance, taking in his heavy chest, strong arms and legs, yet slightly soft body, because he seemed to be staring at me, phone in hand.
“Huh?” I said, pulling myself out of my trance.
“You alright son? I must have asked what toppings you want three times.” He said with a slightly worried look.
“Yeah, sorry. Water in my ears,” I say with a half convincing chuckle while I attempt to empty imaginary water from my ears. “I was thinking pepperoni and bacon pieces?”
“How about we just do a meat lover's then?” He said, his gaze dropping back down to what must be the order on the phone.
“Yeah that works,” I respond as I throw the towel over my shoulder.
“You can leave the towel here. I'll put them away while waiting for the pizza.” He said as he walked over and grabbed the towel off me. I could feel his body heat radiating off of him as he was so close, the smell of him and chlorine mixing and filling my nose.
“How about we hit the showers before dinner so we ain't smelling of chlorine for the rest of the night.” He laughed, stepping away from me and back into the house.
Following him, we split up as he went up the stairs, presumably to the bathroom in his room, the master bedroom that he used to share with mom. But now it was just his after moms passed away about a decade ago. He’s had a couple of girlfriends since then, but none that lasted more than a couple of weeks.
I stepped into the downstairs bathroom and pulled off my swim trunks, freeing my cock, and turned on the shower. If there was one thing that I missed most of all that was not my dad while at college, it was the privacy of our own home. I knew I could walk around naked when I was in my room, and on occasions when my dad was not home, I could walk around naked in the house, free from clothing. Stepping into the warm water, I allowed the water to wash away the chlorine and allowed fantasies of my dad to take root. I found myself thinking about his figure in the tight Speedo that he wore. His bulge pushed out, which complemented the way the fabric hugged his waist. His comfortably soft body is highlighted by his strong thighs and arms that I would be willing to do anything to be squeezed by.
My hands wandered downwards following the flow of the water, as I slowly began to stroke my hardening cock. As I continued to stroke, I closed my eyes, looking up, and let the water from the showerhead pelt my face. My cock is about four inches long and of normal thickness, and my hand glided along it with no trouble. My free hand roamed upwards toward one of my nipples, and a small moan escaped my lips as I let my hand pick up the pace while my fingers teased myself.
Thoughts of my dad filled my mind as if it were the only thing I was capable of thinking of. Everything about him, his voice, his laugh, his body, his smell, everything was perfect. Another moan escaped from my lips, but was drowned by the sound of the shower as fantasies of him in his tight red speedo formed in my mind. Him pushing me against the side of the pool and forcing me into his sweaty, musky pit. My dad bending me over his knee delivering punishment by spanking me while I thank him and call him daddy until my cheeks were raw and red. His unwashed cock needed to be bathed and the only way it could be clean was with my mouth. The pace of my hand quickened, alongside my breath and fantasies. Him in his construction worker's outfit firmly holding a leash which was attached to a collar around my neck as he forced me to lick his boots while his buddies watched. My own cock caged and my limbs bound to the posts of his bed while he stood over me all dressed in leather. His massive dick rubbing against mine, praising me for being such a good boy.
More I thought, I need more. My hand around my cock picked up the pace, feeling precum forming on my tip. What does his taste like? I wondered, giving my nipple one final tease.
My hand dropped from my nipple and moved down to where my hole puckered as I applied slight pressure to it. Slowly, my index finger began to push into my tight hole, and I let out a gasping moan. Biting my lip, I hoped that the shower was enough to cover the sound of it as I pulled my finger back a bit before slowly fucking my own hole with it.
Turning, I leaned against the long wall of the shower for support, my eyes fluttering, imagining as if my dad was in the shower with me. As if he was pushing me up against the wall with one hand, choking and pinning me and his other hand was preparing me for his large dick. Glancing down, I now saw the precum forming a long drip from the tip of my fully hardened cock that stood outside of the flow of water. Closing my eyes, I began to introduce a second finger to my hole as I imagined what it would be like to be between his legs cleaning up any precum that might drip like sweet nectar from his cock. I imagined what it would be like to feel his cock, the cock that brought me into this world, fill my mouth with his seed. What it would be like to taste it and feel its warmth paint my body. What it would be like to feel it paint my insides white, replacing my fingers with his own cock and claiming me even further as his son. What it would be like to have us cum together at the same time and to taste it, our combined seed in each other's mouths. The thought of my seed, his son, mixed with his own, shared between our mouths as if it were the breath of life, was enough to bring me to my release. A breath that I must have been holding in anticipation of true pleasure released in a strained gasp as I called out “Daddy!” My hole clenching around my fingers that seemed to shake in pleasure, as if only supporting the incestuous thoughts that filled my mind were right.
A load shoots out, painting the glass wall that covers one side of the shower. Then another, and another, and another. A total of six ropes of sticky hot cum end up painting the glass with a seventh falling short and landing on the tile shower floor. My mind went blank in ecstasy, and my eyes rolled back in pleasure. Small murmurs manage to escape my lips as I slowly collect myself and begin washing myself and the shower properly.
I was not sure how long I was in there, but when I emerged from the bathroom and came into the living room with a towel wrapped around my waist, and saw my dad sitting comfortably on our couch, scrolling on his phone. He wore no tank top, shirt, or socks, just a pair of pants. Hopefully, the red from the shower would cover the red of any blushing or embarrassment from the possibility he heard me.
Looking up from his phone, he greeted me with a smile, “You were in there a while, everything alright?” he said, arm reaching up to scratch behind his ear, showing off his pits.
“Uh yeah, everything's great,” I said, hoping he didn't notice the small stutter at first. “Is the pizza almost here?”
“Should be,” He responded as I began past him and up the stairs to my room, wanting to be away from the temptation.
“Oh, if you could,” He called out after me. “Can you bring your laundry basket to my room? I plan on doing a load here soon.”
“Sure thing,” I called back. Stepping into my room, I closed the door.
After changing into a t-shirt and nighttime sweats despite the heat. I brought my laundry basket into his room, which was just down the hall from me. Opening the door and stepping inside, I could see a half-made bed with only one nightstand crowded with books, empty glasses, and other nighttime stuff. Illuminated by the hallway light, discarded work clothes were strewn about on the floor, so I set my basket down next to the door without a clear place to put it. Stepping in further, I could see framed photos of us as a family when Mom was still alive. Some photos of just her, some of just me, and some with various pairs of the three of us. I rarely stepped foot in here, knowing I should not be invading my dad's privacy, but I felt as if something was calling me. Stepping forward further into the room, I felt something underneath my foot. Looking down and stepping back, I saw a pair of red and black underwear, not just any underwear, upon further inspection, but my dad's jockstrap. Stepping back to bend down, curiosity seemed to get the best of me.
Surely I could, there would be no harm, I thought. Or maybe just a sniff, that would not hurt.
Picking it up, I used both hands to pull it tight to get a glimpse at the pouch that would hold my dad's package. Slowly, I brought it closer to my face to inspect it clearly. It had red and black bands similar to my own jockstraps, I owned though mine were blue. Despite the dim light, I noticed stains that seemed to be splotted across the worn white fabric that were ripped in various places, surely from the strain that it had to hold back occasionally. The anticipation of being this close to something that had touched my dad's junk was like a trance being placed on me, as I slowly began to bring it closer to my nose. But before I could indulge in the musky-smelling fabric, I nearly threw it across the room as my father's deep voice called out.
“Dyaln! Foods here!” His voice carried up the stairs, scaring me half to death, guilt bubbling up knowing that I was doing something I was not supposed to.
“Alright! Be right there!” I shout back, scrambling up with the jockstrap still in hand. Stepping outside past my room, I threw the precious piece of contraband without looking into my room and calmly walked down my stairs as if I was not just about to smell my dad's used jockstrap. Stepping into the dining room, I sat on one of the stools that were against the bar wall. Taking a filled plate from dad, I took a bite, watching as he positioned himself on the other side of the bar, standing in such a way that made his large, hairy chest even more prominent. We had some small talk about the goings on with his work and what was going on in my life. Not much of interest besides being happy to be back home, even if I've already been here for a day or two.
“I really missed you kiddo, it’s been kind of lonely without you here in all honesty,” Dad said, his gaze dropping from mine as he focused on his half-eaten slice before taking another bite.
“Missed you too, Dad. It really was not the same without you.” I respond with a slight chuckle, “So I take it you haven't been seeing anyone then?”
“Nah you know me,” He starts, seemingly wanting to say more but cuts himself off. “What about you? Any nice guys on campus?”
I had come out to my dad before I left for college, wanting him to know who I was. He took it with kind acceptance and quickly made me feel loved, which didn't help how I felt towards him.
“Some, but none that feel like commitment material ya’know?” I say as the one to look down at my food.
A small chuckle comes from my dad, “Yeah I get that, but I'm sure in no time you’ll find someone that completes you.”
Michael:
“Gnight dad,” My son Dylan said as he began to walk up the stairs looking over his shoulder at me.
“Night son, sleep well and sweet dreams,” I responded before turning my attention to the two dirty dishes in the sink. We had finished our dinner and decided to watch a movie to finish off the night. Once it was done and Dylan was going to sleep, I knew it was time to get some of the chores I’ve been putting off done.
After cleaning up in the kitchen, I began to go upstairs myself. Dylan's door was closed, but I could see his shadow moving beneath the doorframe as if he were searching for something. Stepping into my room and closing the door, I scanned the clothes that littered the floor, and with a sigh, I began to pick them up. As I gathered various underwear, dirty socks, used shirts, and so on, I noticed that I could not find the jockstrap I had worn yesterday. Normally, I don’t think I would have cared about a single piece of underwear that I might have lost. But this piece, a well-worn white pouch held by red and black bands, had begun to rip from several years of use during work. Covering it, stains from times I had been too lazy to shake off my dick from a piss or from leaking into it after thinking about things I shouldn’t be. Despite this jockstrap being rarely washed, it had become a staple of comfort to me, perfectly tailored so that it did its job while at a long day at work, but also loose and ripped enough that it was comfortable to a point unlike any other underwear I owned.
After checking under my bed and other furniture pieces, scouring my closet, and even rummaging through my son's own laundry, tossing the contents out into the room, mixing with my own dirty laundry. After still not finding it in there and making a bigger mess than before, I ran my grizzled hand through my beard, thinking.
Well if I can’t find it, maybe Dylan has seen it. I mean I was wearing it yesterday after all, and he was home by then. So maybe… I thought consideringly about whether I should ask my son if he had seen a pair of my used jockstraps. I nearly laughed at the thought, asking him about the jockstraps that were definitely stained with the invasive thoughts of him.
Quickly giving one last scan of the room, I let out a small sigh of defeat and opened my door and began down the hall. Upon reaching his door, decorated with posters and stickers he had put up while in high school, I stopped with a moment of hesitation.
Should I wait until tomorrow? I thought, although he did just go to bed so he might still be awake.
Quietly turning the doorknob and opening the door at a slow pace, I peered my head into the dark room. Illuminated by a computer screen at his desk, the side profile of Dylan was reclined in his desk chair with his legs outstretched. From this angle, I could not see what was playing on the screen but a video must be playing as he had his earbuds in. As my eyes passed over, starting from the feet, I could see that he wore no clothing. One of his hands appeared to be down as his ass was gently teasing and massaged his hole. His other hand went up and down the length of his hard cock, a glimmer of precum on the tip glimmered as the computer light reflected off of it. My eyes rolling over his nude and hairless torso I knew that I should step back and to give him privacy, knowing that he would not like that I saw him like this. However, my stirring cock in my pants and a repressed curiosity kept me rooted in place. When my eyes focused on his face, I saw it, my dirty jockstrap, wrapped around his face with its used and stained pouch directly over his nose, as if it was made to hold it.
“Oh daddy,” Dylan moaned out as his hand picked up the pace, moving along the length of his cock even faster. Hearing him call out, I open my mouth to apologize but stop, wondering why he had not stopped if he did see me.
“Daddy, please, I've been a good boy,” my son continued, followed by an audible inhale of the jockstrap on his face.
My own cock, pushing against the fabric of my shorts, begged to be free. To see my own son call out for the embrace of a daddy made me want to walk in, throw him onto the bed, and show him a true man's cock. However, this action was thwarted by a sudden spike of jealousy, as if a sword had been plunged into my back.
What if he is not thinking about me, it could be any guy, I thought. Despite my thoughts, my hand betrayed me, reaching into my shorts and begging to rub my hard-on.
Although he is smelling my jockstrap, so there could be a possibility…
As the thought entered my mind, any worries and jealousy about who it could be that Dylan thought of was instantly pushed away as Dylan quietly cried out,
“Please dad,” He muttered, my heart nearly stopping, “daddy, I've been a good boy, a good son.” His hand at his ass moving slightly as a finger slowly inserted itself, his body slightly shook in pleasure.
Me. He thought of me. My heart began to race and my cock throbbed with excitement. He felt the same way I did. For years I had seen him grow into a fine young man, I knew how perverted it was but I always watched from the corner of my eye for when his pants were tight against that firm ass of his, or when he stretched his arms I could see his stomach that looked like it was made for me. I couldn’t help but continue to watch as he continued to massage his hole, a primal need inside me knew that he wanted me to replace them. I could feel the wet already beginning to spill from the tip of my cock, slicking my cock as my hand massaged my cock, spreading the precum around like lube.
Biting my lip, I continued to watch my son pleasure himself while he breathed in my scent. With anticipation, I saw him begin to twitch and buck, his moans became more constant and his quiet calls for me began to meet at a similar pace to his moans. His hand was stroking at the head of his cock, as if edging the sensitive tip. A second finger now inserted into his tight boy hole, with a third ready to be added as Dylan fingerfucked himself. Before the third could be added in I watched as he stifled a final series of moans and seized around his fingers inside of him. Ropes of my son's cum from the edged head of his cock shot up into the air in messy arcs, painting his nude torso in his own cum. The first two ropes of cum, powerful enough that they would’ve landed on his face, but instead were protected by my jockstrap, surely adding to the stains on the fabric. The last two painted his torso, making his body seem to faintly shimmer from the reflected computer light. My son, breathing heavily from such a release. My own cock throbbed even harder at the sight of him leaning back in his chair, painted in his own mess with my now additionally stained jockstrap covering his face. He moved his hand that was fucking his ass up towards my jockstrap, pressing it further into his face as he inhaled audibly.
“Mmm dad,” he quietly sighed, still not aware of my presence, floating in a state of apparent bliss.
Not wanting to be caught by Dylan just yet with a raging hard-on in my pants after witnessing my son's self-induced undoing, I gently released my grip on my cock. Silently, I brought myself out of his room and closed the door as much as I could without making a sound. I tried turning the knob to close the door, but a small squeak and the fear of being caught forced me to leave the door slightly open as I quickly retreated to my room.
Haphazardly pushing the door closed I began to re-gather the laundry that lay across the room, trying to distract myself from what I just saw. My eyes were not even focusing on my surroundings as I fell so lost in thought, thinking about what I just witnessed. That my very own son would be in such need for his father, and who was I to deny him of that? If I were to make an advance on him how would he react? If he made a move on me, how would I react? How would it feel to have my cock deep inside his tight boy hole? To show him what a real man's cock felt like and how good of a reward I could give him. More and more thoughts of the things I could do to him began to swell in my mind, how I could so easily pin him against a wall, spread his legs, and take what should be mine. Precum had begun to seep through my shorts as a small wet spot on a large tent in my pants had formed. Knowing that something had to be done about this, I threw the rest of the clothes into the basket, pulled off my shorts and hastily moved to my nightstand. With my monstrous cock free, decorated with a beautifully hairy bush with a darkened happy trail leading to it and large hairy balls hanging free, bobbing in the air I opened the nightstand. Inside, next to various night routine supplies, sat a bottle of lube, a box of condoms, and a couple of sex toys I had bought in case I ever wanted to use them with someone. However, one toy in particular was reserved for me. A fleshlight that resembled an asshole that had two tears emanating from the entry point, which were the results of nights where I had been too forceful. Grabbing the toy and lube, I poured some into the toy and drizzled another squirt of lube onto my raging hard-on.
Setting the bottle aside on my nightstand, I quickly began to stroke my cock to spread the lube around as I fingered the fleshlight, imagining it was my son's warm hole, begging for the comfort only a father could truly give him. Grabbing a pillow, I rested the flashlight against it and slowly entered the artificial hole as my mind replayed the memories of my son's desperation for my comfort a short time ago. Feeling the textured insides of the Fleshlight, I could feel that my cock had hit the end of the toy, knowing that I was too big for it, but I knew that it did the job well enough anyway. Leaning forward, I grabbed onto the pillow and began to fuck it slowly, but rapidly building up the pace as the sensation of the toy urged me to pick up the pace. Squeezing the pillow beneath me, my mind substituted it with Dylan's body, his smooth back against my hairy and bulging chest. His back arch just above his perky ass that perfectly matched my belly, and how his neck would fit perfectly between my muscles. How his legs could be squeezed by my thighs in such a way that would limit any escape from the breeding that he deserved. The breeding that he wanted. He needed. The thoughts drove me into an animalistic frenzy as I gave into the feral instinct within me to breed a hole. The sounds of my balls slapping the outside of the fleshlight and the feral grunts and growls escaping my lips, matching in harmony to my son's moans that played on repeat in my head. To stifle my sounds, I put the pillow, imagining it was his neck, as if to mark him as my son even more than he already was, to mark him as mine. The thoughts of any person using him during his time away from home brought back the sword of jealousy as my pace quickened, showing no mercy to a toy that wasn’t the real hole I wanted.
“You’re mine, Dylan, all mine,” I growled into the pillow as the feeling of the vacuum created by the fleshlight brought waves of pleasure rippling across my body.
“My personal cocksleeve made for your daddy's cock” I grunted out, thoughts of him collared and chained beneath me as he dripped with my seed filled my mind. Thoughts of me punishing him by beating his ass till it was permanently red, then fucking him till he begged for mercy. How pretty he would look trapped between my legs as I worked at my desk with his mouth, keeping my cock warm. Or dressed in a slutty outfit, or his face buried in my pits after a workout, or even how proud I would be to show him off to coworkers as my pride and joy, and my personal cocksleeve. Getting lost in the lustful fantasies, drool seeped from my mouth as my bites fluctuated from sharp and strong to sloppy and caring. I could barely hear the sounds of squelching from the mixing of lube and precum caused by the ruthless fucking of the fleshlight over my grunts. My own hairy hole twitched as my mind replayed my son painting himself with his own cum, getting off at my dirty scent. To think about how he would react to smell straight from the source, how pretty he would be with my large cock and balls resting on his face, or his head buried in my bush. With a loud grunt, I felt my dick seize and my body tense, as shot after shot, I came deep inside the Fleshlight. I continued to fuck the Fleshlight, spilling thick, hot cum out of the toy as I felt some drip onto my draining balls. Slowly, my thrusts came to a stop as I felt my cock surrounded by warm goo that seemed like it needed somewhere to escape to. Slowly, I pulled out the Fleshlight, allowing the used toy to fall to the floor with a thump. My mind was exhausted from the countless fantasies that swirled in my head, and my body was tired from a day of exercise and a good fuck I decided I could worry about the toy later. So with thoughts of Dylan still on my mind, I quickly allowed sleep to take me, holding onto the pillow that I knew should be my son instead.
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