My daughter brought a fucking himbo home to meet me. Out of all the guys she could have brought home to meet dad, she brought him. He waltzed into my home with that spiky brown hair with blonde highlights, gleaming white teeth, tan skin, blue eyes and a fucking body carved out of stone. The fucker was beautiful, and he knew it. He couldn’t pass a mirror or any reflective surface without looking at himself. I know I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him either. He knew he was hot, but he was insecure about it because he wore clothes that looked like they were painted on his body. A blue t-shirt that looked three sizes too small, jeans that looked airbrushed on. He craved attention and he needed praise, validated, he needed to be the prettiest thing in the room. And he got attention. He had swagger, he was cocky, he had that smirk that tells you he knows you think he’s hot. A typical himbo.
I’m a cop. I’ve been around my fair share of himbos. And it’s guaranteed if I’m being called to a loud party, street racing, bar fights, drug busts, it’s always a fucking himbo. They attract trouble like magnets. It’s because they’re all so fucking pretty, and stacked that people just do whatever these pricks tell them. I’m also on the down low. So, it’s not always a crime in progress that leads me to a himbo. It’s usually my dick. I have a weakness for himbos. They’re always hot as fuck, cocky, and can take a hard pounding. A lot of these guys are bi or on the down low too, so I want my daughter dating one. They’re just gonna fuck her and break her heart and move on to the next girl who falls for their bodies and charms.. These guys are toxically masculine, they act rough and tough, talk a big game, but they also get manicures, wax the hair from their bodies, get fake tans and wear the gayest clothes because gay clothes reveal lots of muscle. They love to wear the little spandex short shorts around the gym, shaking their big muscle asses, teasing men like me. Himbos can’t strive to be a beautiful man without being attracted to other beautiful men.
When I was in college, I would have been considered a himbo. It takes one to know one. But now, I don’t know what you call a guy in his forties who works out six days a week, is ripped, still has all my hair and hardly any gray, still shaves my body hair, and looks younger than my age by a good ten years and who still fucks around like a himbo. I guess I’m a DILF. That’s what my daughter says her friends call me. Look, I’m a cop, I’m hot, and I drive a motorcycle. What’s not hot about that?
Anyway, when we met, I had to be the strict dad without drooling over the little fucker. And just like most himbos, when he saw me, he had the same reaction. He gave me a few once overs, our eyes met and lingered and just like that, I knew he was into to dudes. There’s admiration and there’s sexual attraction. This shithead was sexual as fuck.
“Daddy, this is Brock,” my daughter introduced us.
His name is Brock? Of course, it is. Typical masculine himbo name.
“Brock this is my dad Robert.”
“Mr. Russo,” I corrected her quickly. I needed to show this hot fucker that I was in charge of this show, because I knew he was used to being in charge.
“Sure. Mr. Russo,” Brock said as he shook my hand. A nice, tight, strong handshake, one that lasted too long.
The rest of the time he was there, there was constant staring between the two of us. I would catch him staring and he would catch me. When he talked to me, he couldn’t look me in the eye sometimes. It was almost cute to see a fellow alpha shrink in my presence. I wasn’t sure if it was because I’m his girlfriend’s cop dad or he was too horned up and he wanted to jump me. I would be on my best behavior if I were him too.
Over the next week or so, he would come over and hang with Zoe and every time, I think he spent more time looking at me than at her. Of course, I made sure to wear my tightest t-shirts around him. The ones that were way too small and complimented my biceps. I know he didn’t make much money because he rarely took Zoe out anywhere special. They always came to the house and streamed movies, or he would stare at me. He was quiet but we got along. We bonded over working out, gave each other tips, talked about our diets. He told me he thought about being a cop someday. I told him I might help him out once I got to know him. One evening I came home in my uniform, it’s beige with tight breeches with a blue strip running up both legs, knee high leather boots, a uniform shirt that was a size to small. In short, I looked like a fucking walking wet dream. If there’s one thing himbos love, it’s a hot, jacked up older man; one in a cop uniform was a bonus. The love uniforms, anything with authority attached to it. But I don’t shit were I eat. The last thing I needed was for my daughter to catch on to my lust after her boyfriend. I knew I could fuck him at any time, but I held off.
One evening, I had just came home from work. I pulled into my driveway and saw Brock’s car. I parked my bike next to his car. I assumed he was inside the house with my daughter which was a big no-no because they weren’t supposed to be in the house without me present. I didn’t need a pregnant daughter. But, he was in the car like he was waiting. When I parked my bike, he got out of the car. Fuck, he looked good. He was wearing that tight blue t-shirt I like, tight jeans. I was sure he had just come from the gym.
“Hey, Mr. Russo,” he said, standing beside my bike with his hands in his pockets
“Brock.” I looked around and then asked, “You alone?”
He nodded and replied, “Yeah. Just me.”
“Where’s Zoe?”
“She said she was having a girl’s night with her friends.”
I chuckled inside. This kid was bold if I think he was doing what I thought he was doing.
“Huh. Then why are you here?” I took off my helmet and climbed off my bike. He watched me closely as I did so.
He had a cocky sneer on his handsome face. “I wanted to talk to you... alone.”
I sneered back. “You want to talk?”
He nodded. “Yeah. Can we talk inside?” he asked with a head nod towards the house.
I stood there for a few seconds. I crossed my arms over my chest. I knew I looked intimidating as hell in my uniform. I know I said I don’t want to ‘shit where I eat’, but fuck, he was taking the initiative, making the first move, and he was so gorgeous. And I was horny as fuck.
“You sure?” I asked with a very serious face.
He knew what I was asking. He confidently replied, “Very sure.”
He followed me inside. As soon as we were in the door, I grabbed his arm, brought it behind his back and slammed him chest first against the wall.
“What the fuck!” he yelled. “Ow! Hurts!” He turned his head, his cheek flat against the wall.
I pressed my body against his and got close to his ear. “Here’s the deal, fuck boy,” I growled, “there are conditions, got it?” I wrenched his arm for emphasis. He winced and squeezed his eyes shut.
“Fuck,” he hissed. “YES!”
“First, you started this. I’m not stupid. You’ve done this before. You are about to get into something that you might regret. Next, when we do this, you are not in control. You have zero control. I know you’re used to being in control. This is not one of those times. Next, I do what I want with you. I’ve been with enough fucking himbos like you to know you’re all the same. You want to be pleased. This, also, is not one of those times. If you do it right, when you please me, you will be please by default. Last, if I decide you are fucking worthy, and I want a repeat, you will break up with my daughter. You’ll be too busy getting dicked to care about her. Do you agree to my conditions? If you don’t, get your ass out of here. Do you agree to my conditions.”
He was silent for a while. He was breathing hard, trying to work through the pain I was inflicting on his arm. I wasn’t going to hurt him more than this. I just wanted him incapacitated so I had his complete, undivided attention. I knew he could take me, but he was in a situation where it wasn’t a good idea to test me.
“Answer me, fuck boy,” I growled.
“Yes! Yes, I agree,” he relented.
“Good boy,” I said and then released him.
He turned and rubbed his shoulder, his face in a frown. He looked at me with disdain, pissed that I did what I did. He wasn’t used to that.
“Fuck,” he mumbled as he massaged his shoulder. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“The fuck I didn’t,” I said sternly. “You need to know your place.”
“I just thought we could have a little fun, you know, no strings.”
I shook my head. “You thought wrong. That’s not how I operate.”
“Ok,” he said in assurance he understood.
I stepped forward, place my hand on his pumped chest and slowly pushed him back against the wall. He looked a little uncomfortable. He thought I was unpredictable which in this case, he was right.
I came in inches from his face. “From the first second I saw you I knew you were gonna be mine. You didn’t fucking fool me for a second. I knew it was only a matter of time until I would be eight-inches up in your gut. I’ve been thinking of all kinds of things I’m gonna do to you.”
“Fuck,” he whispered.
“You know how many times I had to stop myself from throwing you down, cuffing you, and fucking raping you?”
“Oh my god,” he whispered again. He loved that idea.
“I know you’ve been thinking of me while you jack off, and what you want to do to me. Haven’t you?”
“Fuck yes,” he said.
“You think of me when you’re fucking my daughter,” I stated as a matter of fact.
He nodded. “Every time.”
“You want to be my fuck boy, himbo?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Is your pussy virgin, fuck boy?”
“No, sir.”
“Too bad,” I sneered. “Would have like to seen your face and hear your screams when I punched your pussy for the first time.”
He swallowed hard. “Will you please fuck me, sir?” he asked me, pleading, hungry. “I want you so bad.”
I chuckled. “How bad?” I hissed.
“So bad, sir. The first time I met you, I couldn’t believe how hot you were.” He paused and licked his bottom lip. Quietly, he said, “You made my pussy wet.”
That was music to my ears. The big, jacked up, cocky stud was admitting to me what a fucking cock whore he was for me. Saying his ass was a pussy meant he was going to go along with how I wanted to treat him. He was going to appease me and become what I wanted him to be. I had butterflied in my stomach at the thought of what I had in front of me. I had the fuck boy of my dreams. Was I an asshole father right now? Yes. Did I care? No, I did not.
I slowly brought my lips to his. He inched forward but before we touched, I pulled away. Again, I went in for a kiss and pulled away. He whimpered. Then I granted his wish and planted my mouth on his. He turned into a hungry animal that hadn’t eaten in days. His tongue filled my mouth. My tongue wrestled with his as I kissed him so hard, his head rested against the wall. His muffled whimpers filled my mouth, his hands embraced me around my neck. I wrapped my arms around his tiny waist and pulled him tight. We made out like beasts for what seemed like an hour, but I knew it was only a few minutes. I ended up throwing him all around the room, kissing him on the couch, on the floor, against the wall again, on the fucking kitchen table. His big muscular body was like a ragdoll in my hands.
“God, you’re so fucking sexy in that uniform, sir,” he told me at one point. His hands moving all over the tight material. “So fucking hot.”
I smirked at him. “You like that, huh? Maybe I’ll let you try it on sometime,” I said with a tease in my tone.
His eyes widened. “Fuck yeah! Please, Mr. Russo. I would fucking love that.”
“Be a good fuck boy and I might let you.”
“Yes, sir,” he said before kissing me again.
I put his hand on my hard cock that was inflating the front of my tight stretch pants. He instantly squeezed and massaged it.
“Feel that?” I asked. “Get acquainted with it. It’s going to be living inside you for a while.”
He looked up at me. “Fuck, Mr. Russo, you know exactly what to say to get me going.”
“I know, fuck boy. This isn’t my first fucking rodeo.”
“Want you inside me so bad, sir,” he begged. “I’m clean and lubed.”
I smirked again. “Cum dump all ready for daddy, aren’t ya?”
“Yes, sir. I know what I’m doing too.”
“You’ll have to give me more details later, fuck boy. Like to hear how much of a cum slut you are.”
“Yes, sir. I have lots of stories.”
“I bet you do.” I helped him up off the floor where we ended up again. “My bedroom,” was all I said. The excitement welled up in him and he hurried up the stairs with me following.
He instantly went to his knees, unfastened my uniform pants and went straight to work throating my cock. He was good at it too. It was like he’d been doing it for years. He slobbered and sucked and licked like a thirsty bitch. That’s when I knew I really did have a special boy here. He was all about me and my dick. He was into muscle men like me and he needed to be used. I came in his mouth which he slurped down his throat. Seeing a man like him drink my load was hot as fuck.
I ripped off his shirt, unfastened his jeans and told him to strip. He went down to his underwear and I watched in awe. His big, muscular ass and huge quads were encased in small, black spandex briefs. He saw the delight in my eyes. Yes, I was a sexy underwear guy. I could tell he was too. I made a mental note to buy him a thong. He took off his briefs and he had a nice, big cock, not as big as mine, but a hefty weight. His ass was a work of art. So thick, so high and tight. My dick was so hard that it hurt. I had to have him. I shoved him down onto the bed. He scooted back and watched me. I started to push down my uniform pants and kick off my tall boots at the same time when he stopped me.
“No! Leave it on! You gotta fuck me in your uniform!” he pleaded.
This wasn’t the first time that request had been made of me. I didn’t like getting cum on my uniform, but I did have three more uniforms.
“You want to see a real cop fucking you, fuck boy?”
“Yes, officer!” he replied stroking his cock. “Wanna see you in your uniform when you breed me, sir.”
I sneered at him. “You’re a kinky fuck.” I crawled onto the bed. “Lift your whore legs and finger that pussy,” I ordered.
Instantly, his smooth, muscular legs went up and his hand dived between them and his finger slid right in. He gasped.
“Spread wider,” I commanded. He spread his legs out like a wishbone. “Whore,” I said accusingly.
His face was red, his mouth wide open as he moaned. His forearm and bicep flexed as he fingered himself. He worked two fingers in. His eyes stared at me, taking in my all my cop beauty. Then he stuck three fingers in.
“Fuck me, officer,” he whimpered. “Please, fuck me with your big cop cock.”
He knew what to say. I pulled his fingers out and slid right in between his legs. I didn’t even warn him before I rammed my cock straight in his ass. He screamed out, his voice going up an octave. That’s what I wanted to hear. His face had a look of shock on it. That’s what I wanted to see.
FUCKING GOD!” he screamed out over and over again. “FUCK! TOO BIG!”
“Fucking whore,” I snapped.
He was in pain. “SIR! SHIT! TAKE IT OUT. STOP. LET ME... STOP!”
I literally laughed in his face. “Conditions,” I growled as a reminder to what he agreed to.
“BUT...”
“NO!” I yelled at him. “I AM IN CONTROL. FUCK YOU AND YOUR POOR PUSSY!”
He whimpered and bitched as I fucked him. Once I got up to a steady pace, I think his hole was getting used to my girth. He quieted down. The tears in his eyes had stopped. His arms wrapped around my neck.
“Feeling better, fuck boy?” I asked but not caring.
“Uh huh,” he whispered. “Sorry, sir. You’re so big.”
“You’ll get used to it, fuck boy. Such a tight muscle pussy.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Cunting you, fuck boy. You like that?”
He nodded. “Yes, sir.”
I fucked him at a steady pace before I surprised him. I grabbed his legs, pushed forward until his knees where beside his head. I got in a push up position and jackhammered that pussy and had him screaming like a bitch in heat. His grunts became staccato, deep and loud. His face was bright red. I knew he’d never been fucked like this before.
“You like that, fuck boy? You like being used?”
He strained to say something. I made out a ‘yes, sir’ but it was muffled.
“You want to be my jacked-up fuck pussy? You want to be my muscle pussy?”
Again, he said yes.”
“You didn’t have a choice, fuck boy. Understand me? You never had a choice.”
He tried to nod his head. I leaned back and brought his legs down and he wrapped them around my waist. I kept fucking. I had to stop myself from cumming so many times. I kept looking down at the most beautiful guy I had ever fucked. And he was behaving like a cum dump; love it when a dude like him becomes a cum dump.
I spread his legs wide, holding his ankles out. “Fucking you like you fuck my daughter. You like being fucked like a bitch, don’t ya?”
He nodded his head. “Yes, sir. I’m your bitch, sir. I want to be your bitch.”
“You are my bitch, fuck boy.”
“Oh yes,” he hissed.
Now was the time I decided I was ready to mark him. I jack hammered him again until my body tensed, I rolled back my head and howled out as I injected his muscle pussy with my thick, creamy load. I saw cum spurt from his cock at the same time. I thrust into him a few times; each thrust was another load into him. When I came off my high, I fell down onto his chest. We were both panting hard. My head was buried in the crook of his thick neck. His hands were roaming my back, his knees spread wide on the mattress. I was still inside of him. I’m the type that stays hard forever. I can go over and over once I recover but I never go soft.
I heard his deep voice make little noises in his throat. I think he was trying to speak, but I spoke instead.
“You will understand something, Brock. If you defy me, try to ghost me, try to break my conditions, I will hunt you down and make you regret it. Understand? There is no saying ‘no’ to me. You knew what you were getting into. You’re muscle pussy. That’s what you are. I’m relentless and obsessive... to a fault. Tell me you understand.”
I could tell he was letting it all sink in. He bit off more than he could chew and now he really was starting to regret it. At the same time, I hit all his buttons. He was hesitant but I didn’t mind. I like him a little scared.
“Sir... Mr. Russo... I... uh... I’m not sure...” he stammered. I stopped him.
“NO! You are sure. You picked the wrong man to fuck with. This is what you wanted. This is what you are. Time to play with the big boys, Brock. You picked a fight, I won. Got it?”
I heard him swallow hard. I moved my cock inside of him. I heard him gasp. He needed a little more incentive. I slid into him and then pulled out very slowly. I heard him quietly moan. I played with him. I showed him how I make him feel. I fucked him like I was making love to him.
“Answer me, Brock.”
He took in a deep breath and replied, “Yes, sir.”
“Good boy. Do you want another load?” I asked him softly before I kissed him.
“Yes, sir.”
“Good boy. You’re a good boy, Brock.” I kissed him softly. “You’re a beautiful boy, Brock.”
“Thank you,” Brock whispered.
“I’m going to own every muscle in your body. Every time you lift, you’ll remember you’re doing it for me. Every time you look in the mirror, you’ll remember me standing behind you, inside you, making you moan. Your body, your face, your world, is for me. You understand, baby boy?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good boy.”
I fucked another load into the boy. I could tell a million things were running through his head. He was in so much pleasure that it canceled out his doubts. I fucked him doggie, then against the wall. We fucked all over the room. God, he was beautiful. I fucked him in front of a mirror. I made him watch himself get used. I made him look me in the eye as I took him from behind. He knew he was where he needed to be. I came until I was dry.
We lay next to each other. I held him, his head resting on my chest. He was running his hands on my abs.
“Sick abs,” he mumbled.
“You have to break up with Zoe,” I told him.
He hesitated. “I do?”
“Immediately.”
“What do I tell her?”
“I don’t care. Tell her you’re a slut. Tell her you found someone new. Tell her you’re gay. Those aren’t lies.”
He scoffed. “I don’t know that I’m gay.”
I laughed. “Oh, baby boy, you gay.” He was quiet for a while. I think he was pissed.
“And how do I explain hanging out with you?” he asked.
“That’s easy, baby boy. You are going to be a cop.”
