The basement was Dad’s pride and joy these days, a full reno he’d tackled over the past six months.
Exposed brick walls he’d power-washed and sealed himself, a massive flat-screen mounted above a reclaimed-wood bar he’d built from scratch, stocked with craft beers and whiskey. Leather sectional in one corner, dim recessed lighting that made the whole space feel cozy but a little edgy, complete with a mini-fridge humming in the corner and posters of classic muscle cars on the walls.
I was 19, home from college for the summer, and openly gay since junior year of high school. Dad, Mike, had been cool about it, in his gruff way. “Doesn’t change shit, son,” he’d said when I came out, clapping me on the shoulder before changing the subject to football.
He was 47, straight as they come, built like a tank from years of carpentry and weekend weights. Divorced life suited him in a weird way, more time at the gym, fewer arguments echoing through the house.
His buddy Jake, same age, was cut from the same cloth: straight, divorced too, with a booming laugh and a perpetual five-o’clock shadow. They’d been friends since trade school, always at each other’s places for beers and bullshit sessions.
That Friday night, Dad hollered up the stairs for me to come down. “Grab a beer, Alex, Jake’s on his way.” I headed down in my usual sweats and tee, the stairs creaking under my feet. The basement smelled like fresh varnish and beer; Dad was already behind the bar, twisting open a bottle. “Check this out,” he said, gesturing around. “Finally got the sound system wired. No more tinny speakers.”
“Looks sick,” I said, cracking a smile as I took a beer. We shot the shit for a bit, my classes, his latest job flipping a kitchen, until Jake knocked and let himself in, beers in hand. “What’s up, kid?” he boomed, fist-bumping me before dropping the beer on the bar.
They ribbed each other about work, about women they’d dated post-divorce (“She’s a handful, but worth it,” Jake laughed about his latest fling). I joined in where I could, but mostly listened, the alcohol warming my cheeks.
As the night wore on, the beers piled up, and the talk got looser. Dad flipped the channel to some old action movie, but no one was really watching. Jake stretched out on the sectional, his shirt riding up to show a strip of tanned gut. “Man, this place is killer, Mike. Better than my garage setup.”
Dad grinned, refilling our glasses from the tap he’d installed. “Took long enough. Needed a spot to unwind.”
I was buzzed, laughing along, when Jake turned to me. “So, Alex, any luck with the guys at school?” It was casual, but probing.
Dad shot him a look, but Jake waved it off. “What? Kid’s out, right? No big deal.”
I shrugged, face heating. “A few dates. Nothing serious.”
Dad leaned on the bar, his eyes steady on me. “Good for you. Just be safe.” There was a pause, the air thickening a little.
Jake chuckled. “Hell, at your age, I was chasing tail non-stop. Bet you get plenty of action.”
The conversation dipped into that territory; sex, hookups, the usual guy talk. But with me being gay, it felt different, charged. Dad didn’t shut it down; if anything, he steered it. “You ever bring anyone home?” he asked me, casual.
“Not really,” I admitted. “Didn’t want to make it weird.”
Jake smirked. “Weird how? We’re all adults.” Dad nodded, his gaze lingering on me a beat too long. I felt a stir in my sweats, the beer making my head swim. The room felt smaller, the bass from the sound system thumping low.
Dad set his beer down, voice dropping. “Jake and I were talking the other day.” He glanced at his friend, who nodded. “About you. About… trying something new.”
My heart skipped. “What do you mean?”
Dad stepped around the bar, closer. “You’re curious. We are too. No one’s around. What happens down here stays down here.” His hand rested on my shoulder, heavy and warm. Jake stood too, unbuttoning his shirt like it was no big deal. “Your dad’s right, kid. Been a while for us. Could be fun.”
I should’ve laughed it off, but the heat in my gut won out. They were straight, or so I’d thought; big, rough guys like my dad and his buddy, but the way they looked at me now, hungry and sure, flipped a switch. I nodded, throat dry. “Okay.”
Dad’s shirt came off first, revealing that broad, hairy chest. Jake followed, his body similar but with more ink, old tattoos from his Navy days. I stripped too, my lean frame exposed under the dim lights. My cock was already half-hard, twitching as they eyed me. Dad’s jeans dropped next, boxers tented; Jake’s too. They shucked them, cocks springing free; both thick, cut, veined from years of life.
Dad’s was heavier, nestled in dark pubes going gray; Jake’s a touch longer, curving up.
“On your knees, son.” I knelt on the ground, heart pounding. He stepped forward, his cock at my lips. I took him in; salty, warm, his cock head filling my mouth as I sucked tentative at first, then deeper.
He groaned, hand in my hair. “Good boy.” Jake watched, stroking himself, then joined, his cock nudging my cheek. I switched between them, hands and mouth working, tasting their pre-cum, the musky scent filling the air.
They didn’t rush. Jake pressed behind me, grinding against my ass. “You ready?” Dad asked, eyes dark.
I nodded. They led me to the sectional. Dad bent me over the armrest, my chest against the cool leather, ass up. Lube appeared from a drawer behind the bar (he’d planned this?), slicking his fingers. He prepped me slow; one, then two, stretching with care but firmness.
“Relax,” he murmured. Jake stroked my back, watching.
“You ready for my cock”dad exclaimed. He lined up his dick with my hole; the thick head pressing in. The burn was intense, but I breathed through it, pushing back. He sank slow, inch by inch, until his hips met my ass.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” he grunted, starting to thrust; deep, steady, his balls slapping against my skin. The sectional creaked under us, the leather sticking to my skin from the sweat.
Jake took my mouth again, fucking gentle while Dad built rhythm behind me. “Look at him, Mike, taking your cock like a champ.”
Dad’s hands gripped my hips, pulling me back onto him until I could feel every inch of his cock inside me as he watched Jake’s cock use my mouth.
“Fuck yes, shove it down his throat, Jake. Make my son choke on you. Look at him taking it like a pro.”
Jake’s thrusts grew rougher, his balls slapping my chin, but he held off. After a minute, he pulled out, gasping. “I need that ass.”
“Have at him,” my dad growled.
They switched places; Jake sliding in where Dad had been, longer thrusts hitting deeper inside my ass. Dad moved to my front, his slick cock slid into my mouth as he made me taste myself.
The basement echoed with it; grunts, wet slaps, my muffled moans. The sound of my dad and Jake filling every inch of me. I gagged as my dad pumped deeper into my throat and Jake’s cock forced me to lunge forward.
Jake pulled out and dad freed my mouth as he flipped me onto my back on the sectional, throwing my legs over his shoulders, entering me again. Face to face now, his eyes on mine as he pounded harder. “You like this, son?” he rasped. I nodded, gasping. Jake knelt beside us, jerking his throbbing cock over my chest.
But Dad held back, pulling out after a few minutes, his cock glistening and rock-hard. “You cum first, Jake,” he said, voice thick with lust, stepping aside. “I wanna watch you breed him. Give my boy what he needs.”
Jake grinned, taking Dad’s place between my legs. He slid in easy now, my hole stretched and slick from their work. Jake started thrusting; long, deep strokes that made me arch and moan. Dad stood back a step, stroking himself slow, his eyes glued to where Jake’s cock disappeared into me.
“Yeah, that’s it,” Dad muttered, his breathing heavy. “Fuck my son good. Look at that, your cock stretching him wide. He loves it.”
I did; god, it felt incredible, Jake’s length hitting spots that made my toes curl. But seeing Dad watch, his face flushed, eyes dark with hunger, added this twisted layer. He was straight, but here he was, getting off on his buddy railing me, his own son.
Dad stepped closer, almost between us, one hand still on his cock, the other reaching down to spread my cheek wider so he could see every inch of Jake sliding in and out. “Jesus, Jake, look at him take you,” he rasped, voice thick with lust. “That’s my boy’s hole wrapped around your dick. Fuck him harder, make him feel it.”
Jake’s hips snapped faster, the wet slap of skin on skin filling the basement. Dad’s eyes never left the spot where Jake’s cock plunged in, veins bulging, shaft glistening with lube and pre-cum. “Deeper,” Dad growled, his own fist pumping in time with Jake’s thrusts. “I want to see you bottom out in him. Stretch my son’s ass, Jake. Own it.”
Jake groaned, sweat dripping from his brow, his balls tightening as he slammed home again and again. Dad leaned in even closer, his breath hot on my skin. “You feel that, Alex? That’s your dad’s best friend about to breed you. Take it, son. Take every fucking inch.”
Jake’s rhythm faltered, his cock swelling inside me. “Fuck, Mike, he’s so tight,” he grunted. “Gonna—”
“Breed my son’s ass. Give him your load. I want to see it. I want to watch you pump him full.”
Jake roared, hips jerking as he came, his cock pulsing hard inside me. I felt every spurt, thick, hot ropes flooding my ass, coating my walls. Dad’s eyes widened, his breath hitching as he watched Jake’s balls draw up and unload. “Yeah, that’s it,” Dad groaned, his own cock leaking pre-cum onto the leather. “Fill him up. Look at that, my boy taking your seed like a champ. Every drop, Jake. Don’t pull out yet, let him feel it.”
Jake stayed buried, grinding slow, milking the last of his load into me. Dad’s hand reached down, fingers brushing where Jake’s cock met my stretched rim, feeling the throb of the final pulses. “Fuck,” Dad whispered, voice trembling with awe.
Jake pulled out slow, his spent cock glistening, a thick rope of cum stretching from his tip to my gaping hole before snapping. Cum immediately welled up, hot and creamy, spilling out in a slow cascade down my crack, pooling on the leather beneath me. The air smelled like sex and Jake’s load, raw and musky.
Dad didn’t hesitate. He stepped in, his thicker cock already rock-hard, veins pulsing, the head flared and angry. He dragged the blunt tip through the mess Jake left, coating himself in his friend’s seed, then pressed against my entrance. “My turn,” he growled, voice gravel and hunger. One steady push and he sank in, easy, wet, the squelch obscene as Jake’s cum lubed the way. My rim stretched wide around Dad’s girth, the heat of Jake’s load enveloping him like a second skin.
He bottomed out with a guttural grunt, hips flush against my ass, his heavy balls pressed tight against me. Then he started moving, slow, deliberate at first, his cock churning Jake’s cum. Every thrust pushed it deeper, the slick warmth coating my walls with each plunge. “Gonna fuck this load deeper into you, son,” he rasped, hips snapping harder, the sectional creaking under the force.
The sensation was overwhelming, his thicker shaft stretching me wider, Jake’s cum sloshing and bubbling around him, warm and slick. Each pump drove it further, the pressure building, cum leaking out around Dad’s base in creamy rings. His balls slapped wetly against me. Dad’s eyes locked on mine, dark with possession.
His pace turned brutal, hips pistoning, the wet slap of skin on skin echoing. Jake’s cum frothed at my rim, dripping down Dad’s shaft, coating his balls. Dad’s hand gripped my hip, the other reaching under to feel where we joined, fingers slick with the mess. “Fuck, feel how sloppy you are,” he groaned. “That’s Jake’s cum all over my dick, son. I’m gonna add mine, mix it deep, mark you from the inside.”
He slammed into me one last time, burying to the hilt with a roar. His cock swelled, then erupted, thick, scalding pulses flooding me, blending with Jake’s load in hot, messy waves. I felt every spurt, the pressure building until cum leaked out around him in creamy rivulets. Dad ground deep, milking himself dry, his balls pulsing against me as he emptied. “Take it all,” he snarled, voice ragged. “That’s your old man’s seed mixing with his, filling you up till you’re dripping.”
He stayed buried a moment longer, hips twitching, then pulled out slow. A torrent of mixed cum followed, thick and white, spilling from my wrecked hole in a slow, obscene flood. Dad watched it drip, eyes glazed with satisfaction, then smacked my ass lightly. “Good boy,” he murmured, voice low. “Look at you, full of both of us.”
We caught our breath, sticky and spent. Dad grabbed towels from the bar sink, tossing one to me. “Clean up,” he said, voice gruff but satisfied. Jake clapped my shoulder. “Not bad, kid.”
We dressed slow, cracked fresh beers, and sat like nothing happened, game back on. But the air was different now, loaded. Dad’s hand brushed my knee as he passed. “Good having you home,” he said quietly.
