This is chapter 2 of a multipart story featuring middle aged dads and college age sons, set in a time before DVD’s, DVR’s and the internet. All depicted characters are adult men, 18 years old or older.
It was late in the afternoon, one of those days during that relentless summer where one day just blended into another. My car was on the fritz, so while Murph, Eric and Alfie all had wheels to get to work, I was stuck on my old bike, the one I used to deliver newspapers back in the day.
It was already hot as blazes when I jumped on my bike to run lunch over to Dad. He was fixing a broken pipe a few streets over.
I dropped his sandwich off with a quick hello. I still hadn’t wrapped my head around the knowledge that Dad was watching porn in the basement, or knowing Skeet was supplying all the dads with porn. I tried to keep it short and sweet when I talked to Dad, so he wouldn’t think I was being weird.
On the way back, I saw Eric’s car in front of Evan Jensen’s house. What the fuck? Eric hanging out with Sweater Nerd?
I had to check it out.
I rode my bike onto Evan’s lawn. His dad would probably have a fit, but whatever. Their house was only one street over in Hardwood Acres, but it might as well have been on another planet. It was like a fucking mansion.
I walked in and yelled out for Evan. No response.
Kinda thought I heard some noise upstairs, so I walked up where the bedrooms were. Nothing.
I walked back to the biggest room. Obviously where Mr. J and his wife slept. Something caught my eye and I walked over to it.
Elliot Jensen had one of those contraptions, a suit valet, that was like its own display for a suit.
I touched the jacket, looked at the label.
CANALI, it read in fancy bold script.
I brought the pants to my face and, without even thinking, I put my face up to the zipper, where Mr. J’s dick had undoubtedly hung through the opening.
I inhaled. And did the same with Mr. J’s briefs - white Calvin Kleins - and his socks.
Fuck, I had no idea why but I wanted to put all Mr. J’s stuff on, wanted my dick to be where his dick was.
Mr. J was a bossy narcissistic asshole, but damn, he was so fucking hot. He looked like the perfect model of a man, the kind of guy that made suits look like they were made just for him.
His bedroom had a few closets. I opened one and it looked like a whole clothing store inside. Mr. J’s dress shirts lined up, organized by color, and then his suit jackets and pants together. A small dresser inside had his cufflinks in a box on the top of the dresser. His shiny dress shoes lined up, next to his tennis shoes.
I put everything back and walked away, freaking out a little, wanting so much to see Mr. J putting one of his suits on, or taking it off.
I could still hear voices, though. It sounded almost like wrestling. Or was Mr. J struggling? Was he being robbed?
I made my way down the stairwell to the spot where I could see up and down in the split level.
Mr. J was moaning.
Eric and Alfie were there too. And from what I could see, they were both naked.
I couldn’t see everything, but I could hear an insistent thumping.
“Fuck me, Alfie, fuck me harder….”
Holy fuck. Alfie Murphy and Eric Stepanovich were fucking a dude! They were rogering Mr. Jensen!
Alfie was inside Mr. Jensen, riding his ass. And Eric was fucking Mr. J’s mouth, slapping his dick on Mr. J’s face.
And Mr. J loved it.
My buddies were tag teaming our neighbor, a 48 year old suit wearing dad who looked like a movie star. It was blowing my mind.
“Fuckin’ A, Eric,” Alfie groaned. “His dadcunt is so fucking tight. You want some, bud?”
I could hear feet shuffling, bodies moving. I could see Eric’s dick when he pulled out of Mr. J’s mouth, and I almost gasped. Eric Stepanovich was packing some serious dick. I knew from swimming with Eric that he had a decent sized dick, but had no idea he was THAT big.
“You love it, Mr. J,” Eric said, jamming his fingers in Mr. J’s dad butt. “You love getting slammed by this big fucking dick and you know it.”
“Yeah, son, I do. I can’t get enough. Especially from you two…craving it so much since last time.”
LAST TIME? They did this before?
My dick felt like if it got any thicker or harder it would split open.
Eric was really going to town on Mr. J. I could see Eric’s hands on his shoulders and then, as he slammed harder, Eric’s hands were in Mr. J’s hair, pulling hard.
“Gettin’ close, Mr. J,” Eric said. “Gonna nut in that tight pussy of yours.”
I could hear Mr. J’s moans get real staccato as Eric jammed his dick hard in Mr. J’s ass.
“Gonna bust, dude. Take my fuckin’ nut, man, gonna breed that dad cunt.”
Eric grunted as he blasted inside Mr. J’s hole. I could see Eric’s face, his expression as one spurt after another flooded Mr. J’s corporate dadcunt.
An inpatient Alfie pushed Eric away from Mr. J.
“C’mon, bro, I gotta get in there. Gonna nut,” was all he managed to say. He sunk his cockhead into Mr. J just in time, as he blasted his own load inside Mr. J’s cummy fuckhole, adding his cum to the mix.
As Eric and Alf pulled away, they laughed as Mr. J stayed on all fours.
It sounded like Mr. J was reaching down to jerk on his own cock, but as a loud car rattled down the street, all three of them were kinda shaken up a little bit, shaken back to reality, and they all started to wrap things up.
Eric and Alf hurriedly tossed on their clothes, and I could hear the loud engine on Eric’s old car sputter as he started up and peeled away.
I ran back upstairs to hide and into the first place I could think of - the open walk in closet in Mr. J’s bedroom.
I waited for a few minutes, hiding out, and then when I heard nothing but quiet, I stepped out of the closet and headed toward the front door. I grabbed Mr. J’s Calvin Kleins and was about to leave until…damn.
I was face to face with Elliot Jensen. A naked Elliot Jensen.
“Brian? What the fuck are you doing here?”
I couldn’t speak.
“Were you here when….the others were here?”
I couldn’t keep my eyes off Mr. J. Damn, the man was beautiful. Not a hair out of place. The man looked like a Marvel Comic hero carved out of stone. His chest had a light dusting of hair, and so did his pubes.
His dick was still hard, still pulsing.
“Yes, I was….I was here, sir.”
“Brian? What are you doing with my underwear?”
My hands were shaking, and I couldn’t look Mr. J in the eye, couldn’t answer him.
He stepped closer, and grabbed the underwear out of my hands. He held them up, brought the pouch up to my face. The pouch where his dick had been hanging out all day.
“This what you wanted, Brian?”
I nodded.
“Take a whiff, champ. Get a good long whiff.”
I did what Mr. J said. The smell of his dick and balls made my heart race.
“I’m real worked up right now, Brian. Your buddies just fucked me, and their cum is dripping out of my hole. I need a buddy to help me.”
Mr. J’s dick was a nice size, with a big knob, leaking like a faucet.
“Can you….do something for me?” I stuttered.
“What is it, champ?” Mr. J whispered as he grabbed the base of his dick.
“Can you….wear your jacket for me?”
Mr. J smirked as he pulled on his jacket over his torso. He stood at the edge of his bed, legs wide open.
“Kneel, Brian. Open wide and suck me.”
I did as I was told. Fuck, I’d fantasized about being with Mr. J so many fucking times.
As I bobbed up and down on Mr. J’s hard, tight shaft, I could see some of Alfie and Eric’s cum oozing out of Mr. J’s dadcunt.
I cupped Mr. J’s balls and slobbered on his thick shaft, focusing on his big oversized cockknob.
“Keep doing that and you’re gonna get my load. The one your friends churned up. Just think of that, Brian. Your buddies’ dicks churned up this big load in my nuts….”
I looked up at Mr. J.
“Beautiful sight, Brian. You look perfect on your knees. You belong there, on your knees, servicing a man. You’re just like me, just like me, aren't you? Open wide, Brian, I’m gonna pop.....”
Mr. J’s salty load hit my tongue, spurt after spurt, and I greedily gulped down every last drop.
Mr. J pulled me up from my knees. I was surprised as hell when he kissed me, his lips on mine, his tongue tasting his own load.
“Your buddies ever fuck that beefy ass of yours, Brian?” Mr. J asked.
“No, I’m…..uh, I’m still cherry, sir.”
Mr. J let out a low whistle.
“Nice beefy ass like yours, you’ll have a lot of guys at college wanting a ride. You do want that, right, Brian? You’re like me. I’m guessing you’re like me.”
I nod at Mr. J. “Yeah, I think so. But I don’t want those guys. I like older guys.”
Mr. J smiled at me.
“Ah, a dad chaser. Wish I could help you, champ, but as you saw, I like being the catcher a lot better. I bet there’s at least one dad in this neighborhood that would give anything to get in that beefcunt, though.”
As Mr. J got dressed, he tossed me his underwear.
“It’s yours, Brian, if you want it. And….come back sometime and I'll ride your tongue again. Maybe we can do other stuff. But maybe knock first, okay? And oh, yes….I told you, stay off my lawn!”
I could hear Mr. J chuckle as I ran to grab my bicycle and head home.
Damn, I could taste Mr. J’s load in my mouth still as I pedaled back to my house. I hadn’t even touched my dick when I was at the Jensens’ house.
When I opened our front door, I wanted to head to my room to tear one off. I needed to cum bad.
But I could hear noise in the basement, just like I’d heard at the Jensens.
I tiptoed downstairs.
Dad was alone. He was watching the porn video Skeet loaned him. And he was stroking his cock. A really big, thick dad cock.
“Brian,” he called out. “Is that you, buddy?”
Part 3 coming soon....
