We had messaged a couple of times now, on this website that had chat features, as well as messages and videos. His handle was “BuiltDadTop1” which was right up my alley. If his name wasn’t enough, his description filled my head with all the right images: 6’3”, 250lbs of solid muscle, blue collar, 47, dark hair, tanned, cut, thick, 8 inches, rough and dominant.
I had done the obligatory “hey bttm boy here, 28, smooth, muscular, cute, 5’8” 170 ripped” with a few pics online that showed off my chest and ass and hard cock.
His initial response had been “Sweet.” And that was it. Nothing more. Yet it left me hooked, as he did answer. And every night I went back online for a few minutes to check to see if he was online, and if he sent any other messages. But after a week, I was beginning to doubt he was interested.
I had been good since I got married just two years ago. I mean there was the first slip up just before I married Allie with the big strawberry blonde hunk of a man also named Brian that I almost fled the country with. But I didn’t and tried my hardest to settle down. And I was good for a while. But then last year, I slipped up again when I couldn’t help myself.
Since then I’d been jerking my dick in secret like I was a horny teen again, searching websites that now existed, and discovering this one, with chat features. It fueled my interest, chatting with like minded guys who were closeted, and needed some relief without the real threat of meeting up it seemed. I got used to it. But every now and then, I’d find a guy that I WOULD want to meet up with and was truly disappointed when things didn’t work out.
It seemed that “BuiltDadTop1” was just another fake profile, full of what I wanted but wasn’t real.
A week later I noticed him online again and sent him a chat message, asking him where he was located and if he was really looking for a smaller, muscled bottom. His response was that he wasn’t too far from my location, and as for the muscled bottom, a simple, “Always looking for a real little buddy” which made my heart skip a beat.
We had a couple of messages back and forth that weren’t sexual in nature, but rather gave me hope that he was serious in finding a discrete guy like me to play with. He asked me if I could ever “host” the gay chat way of saying “can we fuck at your place?” followed by me asking him if he could. When we both said no, there seemed to be a lack of anything else to say, a stark reminder that we were doing something we probably shouldn’t do.
I snuck online the next few nights to check his status, finding him not on, and wondering if our lack of freedom was going to stop us from connecting more. And that maybe I should finally just stop doing this.
But my dick said otherwise.
Finally one morning I was up and online by myself, alone in my house and horny as hell, when I noticed he was online.
Hey there Dad. I sent a chat message and waited. Haven’t seen you on here much. How’s it going?
Almost immediately, he replied with Was working nights. How’s my little muscled boy this morning? Missing his big Dad?
Yes I was actually. And I’m horny. I typed back.
His message was immediate and blunt. Yeah? Prove it.
I sent him a quick pic of my hard cock out of my pj’s, bare feet showing, right there on my couch and hit send.
His answer was fast again, and I felt my heart beating faster as I read it: Nice. I’d like to feel that big cock slapping on my abs, watching you bounce on me as my fat cock pounds up into your boy pussy.
Before I could get my message out, he typed another one: When was the last time your hole was stretched out by a thick dad dick anyway?
It had been awhile. Since I got married, I was trying to be good. Sure a horny guy like me craving cock slipped up from time to time, but it wasn’t like it used to be. That’s why I was so fucking horny now, because it had been almost a year since I even touched another cock. I typed back: At least a year.
You must be horny then. I can see why you want it for real. Maybe you need to open your boy hole if you’re gonna take my cock like a champ. Show your dad how horny you are and slide a finger or two in there for me.
I’d never had any man tell me to do things like this so bluntly. Sure my stepfather Al was a downright pig, especially with his buddies, but this was direct. And I hadn’t even seen a full pic of this man yet. Right now? I replied.
Yes. Now.
I was rock hard, with my dick in my hand, thinking about this man’s stats and the way he was chatting with me. And without thinking, I sucked back my finger, spitting as much on it as I could and worked my pj bottoms down with my bare feet and spread my legs open. It felt odd to be doing this, alone, while my message window remained open.
Take a pic of that boy pussy with your fingers in it. And show me. He typed.
I grabbed the phone and angled it, doing it, not even second guessing it, and managed to shove my middle finger into my hole, pushing my shaved balls up, getting the right pic. When I was satisfied, I hit send and waited, slowly rubbing the skin around my hole, feeling myself getting more and more turned on as I watched the window for his message.
Mmmm. Dad needs to get his cock in there. It’s much wider than those fingers. I’d make you whimper.
I was slowly stroking my own dick, staring at the words, when I heard movement upstairs.
I typed out frantically: Not alone, might have to jump off.
His response came right away again. No. Go to the bathroom and shut the door. Dad’s not done with you yet boy.
I grabbed my phone and with my dick in my hand and my pjs around my ankles, I stumbled to the bathroom as the next message came up.
Take a pic in the mirror. Show me you listened boy.
I did, cutting the pic off at my chin, showing off my cock still hanging out, holding up my shirt to show off my abs so he knew I wasn’t full of shit and was indeed muscled and hit send.
His message was longer, taking a while for him to type as I stared at the dots and saw the message “BuiltDadTop1 is typing…”
And then the bubble appeared and his words came out:
God damn baby! Those abs are definitely lickable. I’d bend you over that sink and shove my fat dick right up that tight boy pussy so far you’d cum all over that mirror. Need a boy like you. Would you take my cock raw and let me breed you?
My cock was throbbing and I answered without thinking.
Fuck yes Dad.
Good boy. Dad’s jerking his meat here, thinking about how warm that muscled pussy would feel around my dick. You?
Yes. I typed back, letting my hard cock flop onto the cold counter.
Show me.
I took another pic, realizing this was like the fourth pic I had sent him. I should be asking for one from him, but wondered if I’d scare him off by asking. He didn’t seem like a man who was used to being asked anything. He told. And I seemed to obey.
I hit send, and typed a message to follow: Thinking about you fucking me has me rock hard.
Me too. He responded, followed by a pic of his cock. Finally I thought as I clicked on the pic to make it bigger. This was a man’s cock. It was thick. Meaty. Fat. Dark trimmed pubes at the base. Flat six pack abs showing on tanned looking skin that made him look manly and macho and thick. Fuck he looked hot already with just his cock. And he was in a bathroom too.
Want to suck on this for me one day soon baby boy? Or just feel it sink into your hole? He messaged, and then sent another pic, this one shirtless in his own bathroom mirror, standing a bit farther back, showing off those washboard abs of his, a very definite v down his waist to the base of his thick beer can looking shaft, his hand wrapped around his cock as he had his white tee pulled up over his thick looking neck like a hockey player, his big pecs like two massive boulders, light dusting of dark hair across his pecs and running down those abs, dark hair across his thick looking forearm. He wasn’t kidding. He was built. From what I could see of his arms he looked massive, his torso wide and powerful, the bottom of his chin carrying a five ‘clock shadow. He was big, and built, and reminded me of someone I lost only 5 years ago. And it reignited me and all my suppressed desires.
I’d suck it and ride it and take it like a champ Dad. I was jerking my cock hard now, leaning over the sink, watching my phone as I waited for his next message.
You like to kiss baby boy?
I groaned, typing quickly enough so I could keep stroking.
Yes. I love it.
Mmmm. Me too. Especially with my little muscled boy sitting on my lap, wiggling his little ass around my throbbing prick. You like that boy?
He wasn’t wasting any words, and certainly painting the picture. This man was perfect.
After I eat out that boy pussy first. You like having your boy hole primed and worked over before I stuff it full of my dad meat and impregnate you?
It was like this guy had taken all my past fantasies and knew exactly what to say, what I liked, and what I wanted.
Yes. That beard is gonna tickle me big time.
Hehe. He typed back. Clean shaven usually, but in the morning it’s scruffy and by 5 o’clock it’s coming in because I’m a fuckin man. It’s gonna leave burn marks around that smooth hole but my tongue will make it feel so good baby. And my dick will make you feel amazing. Trust me. I’m gonna make you moan. You make lots of noise baby boy?
For a blue-collar man, he had a way with words. I took a break from my cock, afraid I was going to cum too soon before he disappeared offline, and typed back: I can. For the right Dad.
Mmmm. Trust me baby, I’m the right Dad. You’ll see. And if you’re the right muscled boy for me I am going to make you fuckin’ scream. You shoot your load yet for me baby boy?
I typed back: Not yet. I won’t shoot till you tell me.
He messaged back fast again. FUCK BOY. You are MY KIND OF BOY, doing what you’re told. I’m going to fuckin OWN YOU.
And then the next message came separately.
I wish you were here right now. I’d fuck your boy pussy so hard you’d beg me to stop. You think you can handle me?
I know I can handle you. I typed back, before adding. And I’d never beg you to stop. I’d beg you to fuck me harder.
Oh yeah? He typed first, before adding another message. We’ll have to see about that. I don’t hold back. And even if you did beg, I wouldn’t stop. It’ll just make me fuck you HARDER.
I was fisting my cock again, typing with one hand, feeling unbelievably turned on. Then that will make me scream LOUDER and beg you to KEEP GOING.
I smiled at that, matching his tone and capital letters, thinking he must be feeling the same as I was and getting more and more turned on, especially when the next message popped up.
Do it now boy. Shoot for me. And send me a pic to prove your Dad made you cum hard.
Yeah? You want me to blow my load for you? I teased, letting my cock flop hard again on the counter, the weight of my 8 inches making a slap sound on the granite counter.
I SAID NOW BOY!
It was a few quick pulls and my cum shot out of me, over the counter, into the sink, and all over my hand. I shot my load HARD alright, grunting and groaning as quietly as I could, unaware of where my wife was at the moment, while typing these messages with a strange 48-year-old muscled beast of a man. I grabbed my phone and took a pic of it all, holding my cock with my white load dripping, the rope of cum along the counter and into the sink. It was quite a load. Thick. Creamy. And copious.
His response was another simple one, but in all caps. FUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCKKKKKKK
And then his own pic, of his own cum, in his own bathroom.
And I thought my load was big! There were gobs of it dripping from his thick looking fingers, some on the counter in front of him, some I could see on the mirror in the pic. Holy fuck, I thought to myself as I stared at his muscled body and the splatters of his load that seemed to be everywhere.
My next load will be buried deep inside your boy pussy baby. If you want it for real, meet me at Home Depot at the bottom of the hill tomorrow at 7pm. I’ll be in the tool section. Red baseball hat. Jeans. Workboots. I’m serious if you are.
I was still panting when I saw the message. My heart was thumping. He wanted to meet me, and I knew the location he was talking about. Before I could type anything, another message appeared.
When you think it’s me, ask me if I know where the hammers are, and I’ll know it’s you. I’ll ask you what size you need and you say BIG. Don’t stand me up boy.
I was shaking, smelling like cum, and completely at this stranger’s beck and call. I’m serious too. So I’ll be there. Tan coat. I tried frantically to think about what I’d be wearing tomorrow, thinking only about my coat, but he sent a message so I figured he didn’t need any other details.
Good boy. Once I get a good look at you I’ll decide what we’ll do next.
Okay. I answered, wiping my hand finally with a clump of toilet paper, that was now sticking to me where I tried to wipe.
Don’t cum till then. And I’ll save my load for you.
Will do. I typed and hit send, before frowning in the mirror at my own lame response. So I added, Brian here.
There was a pause, and I wondered if he was gone. But then “BuiltDadTop1 is typing came across the screen again and I waited with baited breath.
Dad here. See you tomorrow at 7 BOY.
And with that, my cock was hard again and I couldn’t wait till my trip tomorrow to Home Depot to see this man in person.
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