Sexy threesome
"I couldn't stop thinking about Lucas," I whispered against Zak's lips, our bodies tangled together in the dim glow of his bedroom. The clock on his nightstand read 11:47 PM, the third night in a row we'd stolen these moments. My hand traced down his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart beneath my palm. "That blonde hair, those blue eyes... I want him here, Zak. In this house."
Zak pulled back, his brow furrowing as he propped himself up on one elbow. The moonlight streaming through the curtains caught the sheen of sweat on his skin, a reminder of the passionate kissing we'd just shared for nearly half an hour. My lips still tingled from the pressure of his, the taste of his mouth lingering like a secret.
"Dad, I told you," he said, his voice carrying that familiar mix of exasperation and affection. "Lucas is straight. He's got a girlfriend, Maria, they've been together since high school. He's not gonna just... you know, switch teams because you think he's hot."
I chuckled, running my fingers through his disheveled hair. "Straight men have been seduced before, son. And you," I leaned in, kissing his neck softly, "you are straight too, remember? Look at us now."
Zak groaned, but I felt him relax into my touch, his body betraying him even as his mind resisted. "That's different, Dad. You're my... I mean, we have history. We've been through shit together. Lucas is just a gym buddy."
"Exactly," I said, my voice dropping to a low, persuasive murmur. "You spend hours with him at the gym. You see him shirtless, sweating, flexing. You're telling me you've never noticed how his body moves? How those shoulders look when he's benching?" I licked my lips, the image already forming in my mind. "I've seen his Instagram, Zak. That picture of him at the beach—those abs, that perfect tan..."
Zak shook his head, but I saw the faint smile playing at the corner of his mouth. "You're incorrigible, you know that?"
"Learned from the best," I teased, kissing him again. "Come on, son. Just think about it. In two days, you're taking Carly shopping, right? And Lucas is taking his girlfriend too?"
"Yeah," Zak nodded slowly. "Carly mentioned it. Some new mall opening, she and Maria are best friends now, they've been planning this for weeks."
"And Jeannette has her yoga class that same afternoon," I added, my mind already racing with possibilities. "So the girls will be gone, your mother will be gone... Lucas drops you off at home, you invite him in for a beer, maybe show him something interesting..."
Zak's eyes widened. "Dad, you're serious about this."
"DEAD SERIOUS," I said, gripping his chin firmly, forcing him to meet my gaze. "I want that blonde Serbian god in my bed, Zak. And YOU'RE going to help me get him there."
The words hung in the air, heavy with intent. I could see the conflict in Zak's eyes—his loyalty to his friend warring with his desire to please me, to give me everything I wanted. We'd been through so much together, crossed so many lines, that this felt like the next natural step.
"Okay," he finally whispered, the word escaping his lips like a surrender. "Okay, Dad. But we do this carefully. No forcing, no... no violence like before. If he says no, we back off."
"Of course, baby boy," I cooed, pulling him into another deep kiss. "We'll be subtle. Refined. I'll make him WANT it."
Zak laughed against my mouth. "You're going to seduce my straight Serbian friend with your old man charm? Good luck with that."
"Watch me," I grinned, rolling on top of him, our bodies pressing together in the darkness. "But for now, I've still got you to keep me warm tonight."
The next two days passed in a haze of anticipation and planning. I found myself checking my appearance more often, standing in front of the mirror in my underwear, critiquing my body. Still fit for fifty, I thought, flexing slightly. The gym sessions had kept me toned, and if I could attract my own son, surely I could attract his friend too.
On the morning of the shopping trip, I kissed Jeannette goodbye as she headed out for her yoga class, her leotard visible under her jacket. "Have fun, honey," I said, pecking her cheek. She smiled, oblivious, and drove off.
Then I heard the front door open. Zak walked in, his gym bag slung over one shoulder, followed by a figure that made my breath catch.
Lucas.
He was even more impressive in person. Tall, at least six-two, with broad shoulders that strained against his tight white t-shirt. His blonde hair was slightly damp, probably fresh from the shower at the gym, and his blue eyes sparkled with a friendly warmth as he stepped inside.
"Hey, Mr. S," Lucas said, his accent barely noticeable—he'd been in the country since he was a teenager. "Zak said I could crash here for a bit before my shift at the restaurant. Hope that's cool."
"Of course, Lucas," I said, my voice coming out smoother than I expected. I extended my hand, and when he shook it, I held on just a fraction of a second longer than necessary. "Make yourself at home. Can I get you a beer?"
"Dad," Zak interjected, giving me a warning look. "It's like eleven in the morning."
Lucas laughed, a rich, warm sound. "Nah, I'm good, thanks. Maybe some water?"
I walked to the kitchen, my heart pounding. This was it. The first step of my plan. I grabbed three bottles of water from the fridge, my hands trembling slightly with excitement.
Memories flooded back as I stood there—the taste of my son's mouth, the sounds he made when I took him, the way his body yielded to mine. And now, the possibility of adding this beautiful stranger to our depraved little world...
I took a deep breath, composed myself, and walked back to the living room, where Zak and Lucas were already laughing about something, their bodies close on the couch.
"Here you go, boys," I said, handing them each a bottle before sitting in the armchair across from them, my eyes fixed on Lucas's thighs, spread wide as he relaxed into the cushions.
"So, Zak tells me you two had a good workout this morning," I said, keeping my tone light. "I bet you're quite the beast in the gym, Lucas. Those arms..."
Lucas flexed playfully, grinning. "Yeah, I try. Zak keeps me motivated, though. He's a beast himself."
"WE BOTH ARE," I said, the words slipping out before I could stop them, my voice dropping low and intense. Zak shot me another look, but I didn't care. I was already lost in the fantasy, imagining those strong hands on my body, that blonde head between my legs.
An awkward silence fell. Lucas cleared his throat, looking between us. "Uh, you okay, Mr. S?"
"PERFECT," I said, leaning forward. "Just admiring the view."
Zak stood up abruptly, his face red. "Dad, can I talk to you in the kitchen for a second?"
He grabbed my arm and pulled me away, leaving Lucas looking confused on the couch.
"DAD, WHAT THE FUCK?" Zak hissed, his voice low but urgent. "You said subtle! You said we'd be careful! You're practically drooling on him!"
I smiled, a slow, predatory grin. "I'm just warming him up, son. Trust me. Your father knows what he's doing."
Zak ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. "He's going to think you're a creep. Then he's going to leave, and our plan is ruined."
"Or," I countered, "he'll be intrigued. Flattered. A handsome older man showing interest—it's a power trip for straight guys too, Zak. Trust me on this."
We walked back to the living room, where Lucas was scrolling through his phone. He looked up as we entered, his expression unreadable.
"Everything good?" he asked.
"PERFECT," I said again, sitting back down. "Just family stuff. So, Lucas, tell me more about yourself. Do you ever wonder what it would be like to... explore new experiences?"
Zak groaned, burying his face in his hands, while Lucas raised an eyebrow, a confused but slightly amused smile forming on his lips.
"New experiences?" Lucas repeated, setting his water bottle down. "Like what exactly, Mr. S?"
I leaned back in my chair, my eyes never leaving his, feeling the familiar thrill of the chase, the hunt, the sweet promise of the forbidden.
"Oh," I said, my voice dropping to a husky whisper, "I think you already know..."
The afternoon stretched ahead of us, full of potential, full of filth, full of the darkest, most delicious possibilities.
And I intended to savor every single second of it.
I leaned back in my armchair, a calculated smile spreading across my face as I reached for the remote. "Forget the beer for now, boys. How about we watch the game? There's a match on—Dallas Cowboys versus New England Patriots. You like American football, don't you, Lucas?"
Lucas's eyes lit up. "Fuck yeah, Mr. S. I'm a huge fan. My dad was a Cowboys fan, grew up watching 'em. Zaka, you didn't tell me your dad was cool like that."
Zak shot me a suspicious glance, but I just winked at him. "Grab some snacks from the kitchen, son. Let's make this a proper afternoon."
As Zak disappeared into the kitchen, I held the remote in my hand, my thumb hovering over the button I'd programmed earlier. I'd spent the morning memorizing the channel numbers—the private adult channels were on 900-something, hidden away in the parental lock menu I'd disabled last night.
"Patriots' defense has been insane this season," Lucas said, leaning forward, his muscular thighs spreading wide as he settled deeper into the couch. "That linebacker, Miller, he's a beast. Hits like a freight train."
"BEAST," I repeated, my eyes lingering on Lucas's crotch, the bulge visible through his grey sweatpants. "I like beasts."
Zak returned with a bowl of chips and three beers, setting them on the coffee table. "Okay, Dad. Turn it on. But if it's some obscure channel, I'm switching it."
"Trust me," I said, pressing the remote.
The screen flickered to life, but instead of a football field, it showed a bedroom scene—a woman with large breasts on her knees, a man standing in front of her, his cock already hard and glistening. The sound of moans filled the room.
"What the—" Lucas started, his face flushing red. "Mr. S, that's not football."
I feigned surprise, looking at the remote. "Oh, sorry. Must have hit the wrong button. But hey," I said, letting my voice drop into a low, suggestive tone, "since it's already playing... why don't we just relax and watch? No judgment here. We're all men."
Zak's eyes widened, but I gave him a subtle nod. He swallowed, then forced a laugh. "Yeah, Luke, it's just porn. No big deal. We've all seen it before."
Lucas shifted uncomfortably, but his eyes were drawn back to the screen. The scene was heterosexual—the woman now on her back, the man thrusting into her, her legs wrapped around his waist. I could see Lucas's breathing change, his hands gripping his own thighs.
"See?" I said, my voice a husky whisper. "Nothing wrong with a bit of entertainment. Get comfortable, Lucas."
I watched from the corner of my eye as Lucas slowly relaxed, his hand drifting to his own crotch, adjusting himself. Zak, too, was visibly affected—I could see the tent forming in his jeans, his knuckles white as he gripped the cushion.
The scene continued for another five minutes—grunts, slaps, the wet sound of fucking. I could feel the tension building in the room, the air thick with unspoken desire. My own cock was straining against my pants, but I kept my hands still, waiting.
Then the scene ended, the screen going black for a moment before a new video loaded.
This one started differently. Soft lighting, a living room similar to ours. A young man, maybe twenty, with messy brown hair and a lean build, sat on a couch. An older man, grey-haired, maybe fifty, walked in.
"Hey, dad," the young man said.
"Hey, son," the older man replied, sitting next to him.
The dialogue continued—mundane, familial. Then the older man's hand reached out, touching the younger one's knee. The younger one didn't pull away. Instead, he leaned in, their faces inches apart.
Lucas stiffened. "Mr. S, can you change the channel? This isn't—I mean, I'm not into this stuff."
I held up a hand. "Just wait a moment, Lucas. You never know—it might get interesting. Don't be so closed-minded."
Zak shot me a pleading look, but I ignored him. On screen, the two actors were now kissing—slow, tender, their tongues visible as they explored each other's mouths.
"Fuck," Lucas muttered, turning his head away. "This is gay shit. I don't want to watch this."
"Lucas, relax," I said, my voice calm but firm. "It's just a movie. No one's forcing you to do anything. But maybe... just maybe, you might discover something new about yourself."
The actors on screen had stripped off their shirts, revealing fit bodies. The younger one knelt, taking the older man's cock in his mouth, his head bobbing up and down as the older man groaned.
"Daddy, your cock tastes so good," the younger actor said, his voice muffled.
"That's it, son, take it all," the older one replied, gripping the younger one's hair.
Lucas was pale now, his hands trembling. "Turn it off, Zak. Please."
Zak looked at me, his eyes pleading. "Dad, maybe we should—"
"NO," I said, the word sharp as a whip. "We watch. All of us. You too, Zak. You wanted to please me, remember?"
The room fell silent except for the sounds of the porn—wet sucking, moans, the older actor calling the younger one "son" over and over. Lucas had his eyes squeezed shut, but I could see the bulge in his sweatpants, betraying his arousal.
I smiled, leaning back, my hand moving to my own crotch. This was exactly where I wanted them—uncomfortable, aroused, confused. The perfect breeding ground for corruption.
"Open your eyes, Lucas," I whispered. "Look at them. A father and his son, sharing something beautiful. There's nothing wrong with that."
Lucas shook his head, but his eyes fluttered open, drawn to the screen despite himself. The actors were now in a 69 position, both sucking each other, their moans filling the room.
Zak was breathing heavily, his hand pressing against his own bulge. I could see the conflict in his eyes, but also the hunger. He'd been here before, with me. And now he was watching it on screen, hearing those words—"daddy," "son"—echoing what we'd done.
"See?" I said, my voice low and hypnotic. "It's just nature. Two people who love each other, expressing that love in the most intimate way. Nothing to be ashamed of."
Lucas swallowed hard, his lips parted. He didn't look away. He didn't ask to change the channel again.
The moment stretched, thick with tension, as the three of us watched the taboo scene unfold, the seed of my plan taking root in the silence.
Zak and I locked eyes. The porn played on—the father and son on screen now moaning, the younger one calling out "Papa, don't stop!"—but the real heat was right here in our living room. Lucas sat frozen between us, his hands gripping his own knees, his breath shallow. I could see the confusion warring with arousal in his blue eyes, but he hadn't looked away from the screen—or from us.
It was time to make the plan work.
I leaned closer to Zak, letting my voice drop into a soft, almost boyish whisper. "You're very sexually excited, aren't you, son?" I said, using the tone of a little boy myself, mimicking vulnerability.
Zak's eyes widened, then darkened. He nodded, his hand already moving to his crotch, palming himself through his jeans. "Yeah, Dad," he breathed, his voice thick. "I'm so fucking hard."
"Is that true?" I asked, my voice tender, coaxing. I reached out and brushed my fingers against his cheek, a featherlight touch. "Tell me again."
Zak shuddered. "It's true," he said, and then he unzipped his jeans, pulling out his cock. It was already slick with precum, glistening in the dim light from the TV. He wrapped his fist around the shaft and started stroking—fast, rough, desperate. The sound of his hand sliding over his skin filled the room.
Lucas's jaw dropped. He stared at his friend, the guy who'd always bragged about fucking Carly, who'd called gay guys faggots just a few weeks ago, now jerking off to incest porn with his own father watching. "Zak... what the fuck are you doing?" Lucas's voice cracked.
But Zak didn't answer. He just kept stroking, his eyes locked on mine, his breathing ragged.
"I need sex," Zak suddenly said, his voice raw. "Dad, I need it."
I didn't hesitate. I leaned in, grabbed his chin with my fingers, and tilted his face up. His lips were parted, his pupils blown wide. I kissed him.
Not a gentle kiss. A full, open-mouthed, tongue-thrusting kiss. I slid my tongue past his lips, tasting the beer and salt from the chips, feeling the heat of his mouth. He groaned into me, his tongue meeting mine, tangling and wrestling. We kissed like hungry animals, our saliva mixing, our breaths hot and ragged.
Behind us, I heard Lucas make a strangled sound. "What... what the hell?!"
But I didn't stop. I deepened the kiss, my hand sliding into Zak's hair, holding him close. He moaned against my mouth, his hand still pumping his cock, the wet sound of his masturbation mixing with the slick noise of our kissing.
Lucas scrambled off the couch. His footsteps pounded across the floor, then stopped. I could feel his eyes on us, watching. The TV droned on—"Fuck me, daddy, fuck me harder!"—but the real show was right here.
Then I heard the bathroom door slam.
Lucas had run.
I broke the kiss slowly, savoring the string of saliva that connected our lips. Zak's eyes were glazed, his chest heaving. He looked at me, and I saw the hunger there—the hunger I'd cultivated.
"Lucas went to the bathroom," I whispered, a smile curling my lips. "Let's give him a moment to process. And then..." I glanced at the closed bathroom door. "Then we'll see if he comes back."
We waited five minutes. Five long, tense minutes. The only sound was the faint trickle of water from the bathroom faucet and the low hum of the TV still playing downstairs. Zak's cock was still half-hard, his jeans bunched around his thighs, and I could feel my own pulse hammering in my throat.
"Come on," I said, standing up and pulling my shirt straight. "Let's go check on him."
Zak nodded, tucking himself back in but not bothering to zip up fully. We climbed the stairs together, our footsteps soft on the carpet. When we reached the bathroom door, it was closed, but we could hear something—a muffled sound, breathy and rhythmic. Moaning.
I pressed my ear to the wood. No mistaking it. The wet slide of a hand, the gasp of air. Lucas was jerking off in there.
Zak and I exchanged a look—a teasing, knowing glance. His lips curled into a smirk, and I felt a thrill race down my spine. I turned the knob slowly and pushed the door open.
The bathroom was steamy, the shower running but no water hitting the floor—Lucas had turned it on to mask the noise. He sat on the tiled floor of the shower stall, legs splayed, his jeans and boxers pooled around his ankles. His hand was wrapped around his thick, veiny cock, pumping furiously. His head was thrown back, his blond hair damp with sweat, his mouth open as soft moans escaped him.
He froze when he saw us. His eyes went wide, his hand still gripping his shaft. "Fuck—Mr. S, Zak—I—" He tried to pull his hand away, but his cock was too hard, too desperate. Pre-cum glistened at the tip.
I leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, a slow smile spreading across my face. "Don't stop on our account, Lucas."
Zak stepped in beside me, his eyes fixed on his friend's cock. "Yeah, man. Keep going."
Lucas's face flushed a deep red, but his hand started moving again—slowly, hesitantly. "I'm sorry," he stammered. "I don't know what the fuck is wrong with me. I'm straight. I have a girlfriend. But seeing you two—seeing you kiss like that—it got me so fucking hard." He let out a shaky breath. "I couldn't stop thinking about it."
"You mean this?" I asked, my voice low and teasing. I turned to Zak, cupped his jaw, and pulled him into a kiss. Not a gentle one. I parted his lips with my tongue, sliding deep into his mouth, tasting him. Zak moaned into me, his hands gripping my hips, pulling me closer. I sucked on his tongue, then bit his lower lip, letting it snap back. Our mouths moved together, wet and filthy, saliva smearing between us.
Lucas let out a guttural groan. "Yeah... yeah, like that." His hand sped up, his breathing ragged. "Fuck, that's so hot. Don't stop. Please, don't stop."
Zak broke the kiss just enough to whisper against my lips, "He's watching us, Dad. He's jerking off to us."
I glanced at Lucas. His eyes were locked on our mouths, his cock leaking a steady stream of pre-cum. He was moaning openly now, his feet pressing against the tiles. "Kiss him again," he begged. "Please. More."
I grinned and obeyed, diving back into Zak's mouth. Our tongues clashed and tangled, sliding over each other's teeth, our lips smacking. I could feel Zak's cock hardening against my thigh. We kissed for a long, slow minute, letting Lucas watch, letting him drink in every detail.
When I finally pulled back, I looked straight at Lucas, my voice low and inviting. "Why don't you join us?"
Lucas's hand faltered. He blinked, his blue eyes hazy with lust. "I... I can't. You're father and son. And I'm..."
"You're hard," I said simply. "And you want this. We can see it, Lucas. We can smell it."
Zak nodded, his voice hoarse. "Come on, man. Just this once. No one has to know."
Lucas bit his lip, his chest heaving. For a moment, he looked like he might run again. But then his hand tightened around his cock, and he let out a shuddering breath. "Fuck it."
He stood up, his legs shaky, his erection bobbing in front of him. He stepped out of the shower, water dripping from his skin. He walked toward us, his eyes darting between my mouth and Zak's.
I opened my arms, and Lucas stepped into them.
We met in the middle—three pairs of lips, three tongues, a tangle of heat and hunger. I kissed Zak first, then turned and pulled Lucas into the same open-mouthed kiss. His lips were soft, hesitant at first, but I pushed my tongue past them, and he relaxed into it, moaning against me. Then Zak's mouth joined ours, his tongue sliding along mine, meeting Lucas's. We kissed in a chaotic, messy triangle—tongues sliding over tongues, teeth clashing, breaths mingling. Lucas's hand found my hip, and Zak's fingers tangled in my hair.
For a long, wet moment, we were nothing but mouths and heat, the three of us locked together in that steamy bathroom, the shower still running, our bodies pressed close.
I pulled back from the kiss, my lips wet with saliva from both of them. Lucas was breathing hard, his blue eyes glassy, his cock still jutting out, slick with pre-cum. Zak's hand was still tangled in my hair, his face flushed.
"Now," I said, my voice rough, "I want you boys to take care of me."
I stepped into the shower stall, the warm water spraying against my back. Slowly, deliberately, I unbuttoned my shirt and let it fall to the wet floor. Then I unzipped my jeans and pushed them down, kicking them aside. I stood there in nothing but Jeannette's red lace thong—the fabric stretched taut over my half-hard cock, the waistband digging into my hips.
Lucas's eyes went wide. His mouth fell open. "Holy shit, Mr. S... you're wearing your wife's underwear?"
I smirked, running my hand over the lace. "Like it?"
He swallowed hard, his cock twitching. "Fuck yeah."
Zak stepped into the shower behind me, his hands sliding around my waist. "Dad wants us to worship him, Lu. Let's give it to him."
I turned around and bent over, bracing my hands against the tiled wall. The thong clung to my ass, the thin string disappearing between my cheeks. "Start here," I commanded.
Zak dropped to his knees without hesitation. He gripped the waistband of the thong and pulled it aside, exposing my hole. Then he leaned in and pressed his tongue flat against it. A shudder ran through me as he licked a long, wet stripe from my taint up to my tailbone. I groaned, my fingers scraping against the tile.
"Fuck, yes," I breathed.
Lucas moved in beside Zak, hesitating for just a second before he dropped to his knees too. He watched Zak's tongue working my hole, then leaned in and joined him. Two tongues—one hot, one eager—lapping at my ass together. They took turns, sometimes licking in tandem, their mouths meeting around my crack. Then, without warning, their lips pressed together—kissing over the curve of my ass. I felt their tongues slide against each other, their mouths smacking, my hole caught between them.
I let out a guttural moan. "That's it, boys. Kiss each other over my ass. Show me how much you want this."
They obeyed, their mouths moving together, their tongues tangling, all while their faces pressed into my cheeks. Lucas's hand came up to spread me wider, and Zak's tongue dove in, fucking my hole while Lucas sucked on his tongue.
"Enough," I rasped, pushing back against them. "I want to be fucked. Lucas—get a condom."
Lucas stood up, his legs shaky. He fumbled with the little basket of toiletries on the shelf, found a condom, and tore it open with his teeth. He rolled it down his thick shaft, his eyes never leaving mine.
I turned around and sat on the edge of the bathtub, spreading my legs. Zak crawled in front of me, his cock bobbing near my face. "You're gonna suck me while Lucas fucks you, Dad."
I nodded, licking my lips. "Come here, son."
Zak guided his cock to my mouth, and I opened wide, taking him in. The familiar weight of him filled my throat, and I moaned around him. At the same time, Lucas stepped between my legs. He lined his condom-covered cock up with my hole and pushed.
I gasped around Zak's cock as Lucas entered me. He was thick—thicker than Zak—and he stretched me wide. He pushed in slowly, inch by inch, until his hips were flush against my ass. Then he started fucking me.
"Fuck, Mr. S," Lucas grunted, his hands gripping my hips. "Your ass is so tight. Fucking incredible."
I couldn't answer. My mouth was full of Zak's cock, my son's hands fisting in my hair as he fucked my face. Lucas pounded into me from behind, the water from the shower splashing against our skin. I was nothing but a hole for them—a slut for my son and his friend.
Zak's thighs tensed. "I'm close, Dad. Fuck, I'm gonna cum."
I sucked harder, my tongue swirling around his head. Lucas's thrusts grew faster, more erratic. His balls slapped against my taint.
"Cumming," Lucas growled, burying himself deep. I felt his cock pulse through the condom, hot and thick. That sent me over the edge. Zak groaned, his cum flooding my throat, and I swallowed every drop, my own cock spurting onto my stomach.
They both pulled out, breathing hard. The shower was still running, steam curling around us. I stood up on shaky legs, and pulled them both into my arms—Zak on my left, Lucas on my right. I kissed Zak first, deep and slow, tasting myself on his lips. Then I turned to Lucas, pressing my mouth to his, our tongues sliding together. Zak leaned in, and the three of us kissed again, soft and tender this time, our foreheads touching.
"That was amazing," I whispered.
Zak smiled, his eyes half-lidded. "Yeah, Dad."
Lucas blushed, but he was grinning. "I've never... I didn't know..."
"Shh," I said, kissing his forehead. "You're part of this now."
Suddenly, a sharp ring cut through the quiet. Zak's phone, vibrating on the bathroom counter.
He pulled away, frowning, and picked it up. The screen lit up.
Carly.
Zak looked at me, his face unreadable. Then he swiped to answer.
"Hey, babe." His voice was steady, but I could see his hand trembling. "What's up?"
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