Carly’s birthday surprise
Lucas became a regular fixture. At first, he'd come over with excuses—needing to borrow a tool, wanting to talk to Zak about the gym. But soon he stopped pretending. He'd text Zak directly, asking if I was home. Sometimes Zak would open the door while I was still wearing one of Jeannette's silk robes, and Lucas would just grin and say, "Didn't interrupt anything, did I?"
The three of us became something I hadn't planned but couldn't resist. Lucas, for all his earlier protests about being straight, took to my cock like a natural. And Zak—my beautiful, corrupted son—watched with hungry eyes as I fucked his friend, then took his turn right after.
But that wasn't the end of it. I found out later that Zak and Lucas had started fucking on their own. Just the two of them. I came home early one afternoon and heard the unmistakable sounds from Zak's room—the creak of his bed, Lucas's deep moans, Zak's breathless grunts. I cracked the door open and watched Lucas bent over the mattress, Zak pounding into him, both of them lost in it. I didn't say anything. I just stood there, my hand sliding into my pants, until they finished. When they saw me, Lucas just laughed and said, "Hope you don't mind, Mr. S. Your son's got a hell of a cock."
I didn't mind. I loved it. But I was also getting jealous. Zak spent more and more time with Lucas, and when Lucas's girlfriend Maria came around, Zak would get this glint in his eye—a competitive spark that I recognized. He liked having Lucas's attention. But I wanted all of his attention. For myself.
And then there was Carly. Zak's girlfriend. The one he still claimed to love, even after everything we'd done. She was always over, always touching him, always pulling him away from me. I could see it in the way Zak looked at her—he still wanted her. That drove me insane. I needed to break that bond. Permanently.
But I had to be clever. If I just told Zak to leave her, he'd resist. He was stubborn. I had to make him choose—and make sure he chose me.
Now, with Carly's birthday two days away, things were about to shift.
It was Thursday evening. Jeannette was at her yoga class. I was in the living room with a glass of whiskey when Zak walked in, still in his gym clothes. He looked tired, but there was a nervous energy in his eyes.
"Dad? Can we talk?"
"Always."
He sat across from me, leaning forward. "It's about Carly's birthday. I want to do something special for her."
"I know. You mentioned a dinner."
"Yeah, but... she's got this fantasy. A threesome. Two guys, her in the middle."
I kept my face neutral. "And you're thinking about it?"
He nodded. "I never wanted to before. Because, you know, how I used to be. But now..." He shrugged. "The idea turns me on. Watching her with another guy. Or being inside her while he fucks her mouth. I want to give it to her."
"Then do it."
He laughed. "It's not that simple. I thought about asking Lucas, but Carly and Maria are best friends. If Carly finds out, she might tell Maria. I can't risk that."
"So you need someone you trust."
"Yeah. But I don't have anyone else."
I set down my glass. "What about me?"
Zak's eyes went wide. "What?"
"Me. I'll be the second man."
He stared at me, his mouth open. "No. No way. Dad, that's insane. Carly can't know about us. If she finds out I've been fucking my own father—"
"She'll find out eventually. You think you can hide this forever? The way you look at me, the way you touch me when no one's watching—people notice. Lucas noticed. Carly will too, sooner or later. Better she finds out in a controlled setting. Where we're in charge."
I walked over and sat beside him, my hand on his thigh. "We'll tie her up with rope—just her wrists and ankles. Nothing too restrictive. And she'll be able to see, Zak. That's the key. She'll see you, and she'll see me. But I'll make sure she sees exactly what I want her to see. We'll start slow, with you doing all the work at first. I'll stay in the shadows until the moment is right. When she's already wet, already moaning, already desperate for more—then I'll step in. She'll see my face, and I'll see the shock in her eyes. But by then she won't be able to stop. She'll want it too badly."
He swallowed hard. "She might freak out. She might scream."
"Then we'll have a conversation afterward. I'll talk to her, calm her down. I'm good at that. And if she threatens to tell anyone—well, I'll have my phone recording the whole thing. Not to blackmail her, but to protect us. To show her that she was a willing participant. If she tries to ruin our family, we have proof that she was more than happy to have my cock inside her."
Zak ran his hand through his hair. "This is insane."
"It's brilliant. And you know it."
He looked at me, his eyes dark. "And what do you get out of it?"
I smiled. "I get to be inside her. I get to watch you come. And I get to have my son completely in my power."
He took a deep breath. Then he nodded. "Yeah. Fuck it. Let's do it."
I stood up, pulling him to my feet. "Good. Now, for logistics—I want to do it in my bedroom. Jeannette will be gone all weekend. I'll set everything up. You just bring Carly, get her comfortable, and lead her upstairs. Tell her it's a surprise. Tell her she'll be tied up, but she'll be able to see everything. She'll love it."
He nodded. "Okay."
"And Zak," I said, my voice dropping. "Before Saturday, I want you. Tonight. In the parent bed. I want to fuck you while you think about it. While you imagine what it'll be like to watch me take your girlfriend while she watches us both."
His eyes glazed over. Without a word, he grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the stairs.
---
But the plan that formed in my mind was darker than what I'd told him. Carly would see me, yes. But I wouldn't just be the second man. I would become the center of the scene. I would show her what Zak and I had together—the passion, the intensity, the depravity. I would fuck Zak right in front of her, make him moan my name, make him lose himself in my body. And then I would turn to her, still hard, still dripping with my son's cum, and ask her: "Do you want this too?"
If she said yes, she would be mine. And if she said no—if she screamed, if she tried to run—I would have the recording. I would show Zak her terrified face, her rejection of us, her threat to destroy everything. And I would whisper in his ear: "She can't accept what we are. She'll never understand. But I will always be here. I will always love you."
He would choose me. He had no choice. He was already addicted.
By Saturday night, Carly would be gone from his life. And I would have him all to myself. Tied up, able to see, but completely helpless—that was the role I had in mind for her. And for Zak, forever.
I waited in the living room, the newspaper open in my hands, but my eyes weren't following the words. My cock was already half-hard beneath my jeans, my mind racing through every possible outcome. The plan was in motion. I heard the key turn in the front door, and my heart kicked up a notch.
"Happy birthday, baby," Zak's voice drifted in from the hallway.
"Mmm, thank you. I'm so excited. What's the surprise?"
"You'll see. Just trust me."
They stepped into the living room, and I looked up from my paper, offering a casual nod. "Hey, kids. Good day?"
"Hey, Dad," Zak said, his hand resting on Carly's lower back. "Yeah, it's been good. We're gonna head upstairs for a bit."
"Sure. Dinner's at seven, but take your time."
Carly smiled at me, a little nervously. "Thanks, Mr. S."
I watched them climb the stairs, Carly's hips swaying under her summer dress, Zak's hand sliding down to squeeze her ass. They disappeared into the master bedroom—my bedroom—and I heard the door click shut.
I gave them exactly five minutes. Long enough to get undressed, long enough to start touching, but not long enough to finish. I heard the first muffled moan through the ceiling, and I smiled.
Perfect timing.
I set the newspaper down and stood, adjusting myself in my jeans. I'd chosen a fitted black t-shirt that stretched across my chest and shoulders, dark jeans that hugged my thighs and ass, and a leather belt with a silver buckle. No cologne, no pretense. Just a man. A virile, confident man about to claim what was his.
I climbed the stairs slowly, letting my footsteps echo. "Zak? Carly? You two up there?"
I heard a sharp gasp, then Carly's panicked whisper: "Oh my God, Zak, your dad's coming!"
"Just relax, babe. He probably just needs something."
"No, no, no—he can't see us like this!"
I reached the door and knocked twice. "Zak? You in there?"
A beat of silence. Then Zak's voice, slightly breathless but steady: "Yeah, Dad, come in."
I turned the knob and pushed the door open.
The scene was exactly what I'd hoped for. Carly was half-naked on the bed, her dress pushed up to her waist, her bra undone and hanging off one shoulder. Zak was on top of her, his shirt off, his jeans unbuttoned. They were frozen in place like deer in headlights.
I stood in the doorway, my face twisted into a mask of pure fury. I let the silence hang heavy in the room, watching Carly's eyes go wide with terror, watching Zak's body tense beneath her.
"What the HELL is going on here?" I bellowed, my voice echoing off the walls.
Carly scrambled off Zak, clutching her dress to her chest, her hands shaking as she tried to cover herself. "Oh my God, Mr. S—I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, we didn't mean to—"
"SHUT UP!" I snapped, pointing a finger at her. My eyes were locked on Zak, who was sitting up now, his jeans still unbuttoned, his chest bare. He looked nervous, but there was something else in his eyes. A flicker of defiance. Or maybe anticipation.
"You," I said, my voice dropping to a low, dangerous growl. "You have some nerve, boy. This is MY bed. The bed I share with your mother. And you're in here, defiling it like some kind of animal?"
Carly was trembling, tears welling in her eyes. "Please, Mr. S, it was my fault, I—"
"I said SHUT UP!" I didn't even look at her. I kept my gaze fixed on Zak. "You don't get to apologize, young lady. This is HIS fault. He knows better. He's the man of this house when I'm not around, and THIS is how he repays my trust?"
Zak swallowed hard. "Dad, I—"
"Don't you DARE speak!"
I stepped forward, my boots heavy on the hardwood floor. Carly flinched as I passed her, but I ignored her completely. I reached the bed, and I grabbed Zak's face—both hands, cupping his jaw, my fingers digging into his cheeks. I forced his head up, forced him to look at me.
"Please, Mr. S, don't hurt him!" Carly's voice cracked, desperate. "Please, I'll do anything, just don't—"
But I wasn't listening to her. I was staring into Zak's eyes. Deep. Searching. And slowly, the fury in my expression softened. Just a fraction. Just enough for him to see what was really there.
His pupils dilated. His breath hitched.
And then I leaned in.
I kissed him. Full on the mouth. Slow and deliberate, my lips pressing against his, my tongue sliding along the seam of his lips until he opened for me. I tasted his surprise, his hesitation, and then—slowly—his surrender.
Carly let out a choked gasp. "What the FUCK?"
But I didn't stop. I deepened the kiss, my hands holding his face steady, my tongue exploring his mouth with possessive hunger. Zak's hands came up, gripping my wrists, but he wasn't pushing me away. He was holding on.
I broke the kiss, just barely, my forehead resting against his. My lips brushed his as I spoke, my voice a low whisper meant only for him. "You think you can fuck your girlfriend in my bed and I wouldn't find out?"
Carly was frozen, her mouth hanging open, her eyes wide as dinner plates. She looked between us, her brain clearly short-circuiting.
Zak's eyes were glassy, his breath uneven. "Dad..."
I kissed him again. Harder this time. More demanding. My tongue plunged into his mouth, and I felt him moan—barely audible, but I heard it. I felt it vibrate through his chest.
Carly whimpered. Not in disgust. In arousal. The sound was unmistakable. A soft, needy whimper that escaped her lips as she watched her boyfriend make out with his father.
I finally pulled back, smirking at the dazed look on Zak's face. Then I turned to Carly. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, her dress still bunched around her waist, her bra hanging loose. Her cheeks were flushed, her pupils blown wide.
"Please," she breathed, her voice hoarse. "Please untie my hands. I want to—I want to join you."
I raised an eyebrow. "Join us?"
She nodded frantically. "Yes. Please. I won't tell anyone, I swear. Just... let me be part of this."
Zak looked at me, surprised. "Dad, she was supposed to—"
I cut him off with a raised hand. "I'll untie you," I said slowly, my eyes boring into Carly's. "But on one condition."
"Anything," she said immediately. "Anything."
"You stay quiet. You stay still. You are a SPECTATOR. Nothing more. You watch. You don't touch. You don't speak unless spoken to. Understood?"
Her face fell. "But—"
"Do you WANT to stay tied up?"
She bit her lip, her eyes flickering to Zak, then back to me. "...No."
"Then agree."
She swallowed hard. "...I agree."
I walked around the bed and untied the ropes around her wrists. The moment they fell away, she rubbed her sore skin, but her eyes were already on Zak. She reached out, her hand trembling, and tried to place it on his shoulder.
I slapped her hand away. Hard. The sound cracked through the room like a gunshot.
"Did I stutter?" I snarled. "I said DON'T TOUCH."
Carly yelped and pulled her hand back, cradling it against her chest. Tears welled in her eyes, but she nodded quickly. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I won't—I won't touch him."
Zak looked at her, then at me, a flicker of confusion in his eyes. "Dad, I thought we were going to—"
"Plans change," I said, my voice flat. I turned back to Carly, who was now sitting on the edge of the bed, her hands folded in her lap, her eyes fixed on the floor. "You watch. You learn. And maybe—if you behave—you'll get a reward later."
She nodded, not daring to look up.
I turned back to Zak, gripping his chin again, forcing his gaze to meet mine. "Now. Where were we?"
I leaned back in the chair, the wood creaking under my weight as I slowly unbuttoned my shirt. I took my time, letting the anticipation build, watching Zak's eyes follow every movement. Carly sat on the edge of the bed, her hand already creeping between her thighs, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps.
I let my shirt fall to the floor. Then my pants. Then my boxers. I sat there, completely naked, my legs spread wide, my cock already half-hard as I looked down at my son.
"Show me," I said, my voice low and commanding. "Show your girlfriend what a whore you are for your daddy."
Zak didn't hesitate. He dropped to his knees, the carpet rough beneath him, and crawled forward until he was nestled between my legs. His hands found my thighs, gripping them tight as he leaned in. His tongue darted out, tracing a wet line along my perineum, and I felt my body shudder.
"Fuck, yeah," I groaned, my head falling back against the chair.
His tongue circled my hole, slow and teasing at first, then more insistent. He lapped at me like a dog, sloppy and eager, his breath hot against my skin. I looked over at Carly. Her fingers were buried inside her pussy, her eyes glued to the sight of her boyfriend eating his father's ass.
"That's it," I growled. "Watch him. Watch your man worship his daddy's hole."
Zak moaned against me, the vibration sending a jolt of pleasure straight through my spine. His tongue pushed inside, and I gripped the armrests of the chair, my knuckles white.
"Harder," I commanded. "Deeper."
He obeyed, his tongue plunging into me, his nose pressed against my crack. I could feel his spit dripping down, mixing with my sweat, making a mess of my thighs.
And then I let it happen.
A low rumble built in my gut, and I let go. A loud, wet fart escaped me, the sound echoing in the quiet room. Zak froze for a split second, his tongue still pressed against my hole.
Carly's hand stopped moving. Her eyes went wide.
I looked down at Zak, my voice a dangerous whisper. "What are you waiting for? I told you to show her what a whore you are. Kiss it."
Zak's eyes met mine. There was a flicker of hesitation. But then he lowered his head again, and his lips pressed against my asshole. He kissed it. Once. Twice. His tongue darted out, tasting the air I had just released, and I heard him groan—not in disgust, but in submission.
"That's my boy," I purred, threading my fingers through his hair. "That's daddy's good little slut."
Carly was moaning again, her fingers pumping faster, her eyes fixed on the scene before her. "Oh God," she whimpered. "Oh God, yes..."
Zak's mouth worked my hole, his tongue circling, dipping, tasting. I could feel his breath, his heat, his complete surrender. His hands slid up my thighs, gripping my hips, pulling me closer.
"Now my nipples," I ordered, my voice thick with pleasure. "Show her how much you love sucking your daddy's tits."
He pulled away, his chin slick with spit, his eyes glazed with lust. He crawled up my body, his lips finding my left nipple. He took it in his mouth, sucking hard, his tongue flicking across the sensitive nub.
I moaned, my hand still gripping his hair, pushing his face against my chest. "The other one," I demanded.
He switched, his mouth moving to my right nipple, sucking and licking like a hungry baby. I looked over at Carly. She was dripping wet, her fingers working her clit in frantic circles, her mouth open, her eyes half-closed.
"Look at her," I said to Zak, my voice a low rumble. "Look at your girlfriend while you suck your daddy's tits. Look at how much she loves watching you be my whore."
Zak turned his head, his mouth still latched onto my nipple, and watched Carly. She was lost in the moment, her hips bucking against her own hand, little whimpers escaping her lips.
"Fuck," Zak breathed against my skin.
"Yeah," I growled. "Fuck indeed."
My chest still damp from Zak's mouth, my nipples hard and aching. I looked down at him, still on his knees between my legs, his eyes hazy and submissive. Carly was moaning softly on the bed, her fingers buried in her pussy, her gaze locked on us.
"Now," I said, my voice thick and commanding, "suck your daddy's cock. And lick my balls. Show your girlfriend where you came from."
Zak lowered his head, his lips parting as he took my cock into his mouth. I felt the wet heat envelop me, his tongue sliding along the shaft, and I let out a low groan. My hand found the back of his head, guiding him, pressing him deeper.
"That's it," I growled, looking straight at Carly. Her eyes were wide, her breath coming in gasps as she watched her boyfriend bob his head up and down on my dick. "You see this, Carly? You see how he worships my cock? This is where he came from. This cock and these balls—they made him. Every drop of his cum, every hair on his body, it all started right here."
I pushed Zak's head down further, making him take me all the way to the base. He gagged, but I held him there, my eyes still locked on Carly.
"His mother's pussy just carried him," I continued, my voice a low, possessive rumble. "I made him. With my seed. With my fucking balls." I released his head, and Zak pulled back, gasping, saliva stringing from his lips to my cock. "Now lick my balls, boy. Show her."
Zak's tongue darted out, tracing along the underside of my sac. He lapped at my balls, first one, then the other, his mouth warm and eager. I spread my legs wider, giving him better access, and he buried his face between my thighs, licking and sucking like a starving animal.
Carly's fingers were working furiously, her hips bucking against her own hand. "Oh God," she whimpered, "this is so hot. So fucking perverse. He's licking your balls... and you made him... oh fuck..."
I smirked, my hand still tangled in Zak's hair. "That's right, Carly. Watch your man worship his daddy's nuts. Every time he cums, every time his dick gets hard, it's because of me. I own his pleasure. I own his fucking existence."
Zak moaned against my skin, the vibration sending a jolt through my groin. He sucked one ball into his mouth, gently, then released it and moved to the other. His hands gripped my thighs, holding himself in place.
"Now get back on my cock," I ordered, pulling his head up. "Suck it like you mean it, you little slut."
He opened his mouth and took me again, his eyes fluttering closed as he slid his lips down my shaft. I leaned back, looking at Carly, her face flushed, her movements frantic.
"Fuck, yeah," I breathed. "This is how it should be. My son, on his knees, serving his daddy. And you, Carly, getting off on it. You're both mine tonight."
My cock still wet from Zak's mouth, my balls aching from his tongue. Carly's fingers were still working her pussy on the bed, her eyes glazed with lust. I looked down at Zak, still on his knees between my legs, his lips swollen, his breath ragged.
"Now," I said, my voice low and commanding, "lick my legs. Every inch. From my ankles up to my thighs. Show your daddy how much you worship me."
Zak lowered his head and pressed his mouth to my left ankle, his tongue flat and warm against my skin. He licked slowly, deliberately, trailing up my calf, leaving a wet shine behind. I watched him, my hand resting on his head, guiding him. He reached my knee, then the inside of my thigh, his tongue sliding over the sensitive skin. He was breathing hard, his own cock stiff against his stomach.
"That's it," I murmured. "Show me you're my good boy. Show Carly what a slut you are for your daddy."
He moved to my other leg, starting at the ankle again, licking and kissing. His hands gripped my knees, holding himself steady as he worked his way up. When he reached my groin, he paused, his breath hot on my hip, then continued down the other side, back to my foot.
I spread my legs wider. "Now sniff my feet, boy. Breathe in your daddy's scent. Let it fill you."
Zak's face hovered over my right foot. He inhaled deeply, his nostrils flaring, his eyes fluttering closed. He let out a shaky moan, then pressed his nose against my sole, rubbing it against the skin. He took another long sniff, then the other foot, burying his face between my toes, breathing in like a starving man.
Carly's voice cut through the room, breathless and wet. "Oh fuck... Zak... you're actually sniffing your daddy's feet... that's so fucking hot..."
I smirked, my eyes locked on hers. "He loves it, Carly. He loves his daddy's scent. It's in his blood."
I looked back down at Zak. "Now lick them. Lick my feet like the filthy whore you are."
Zak opened his mouth and dragged his tongue across the arch of my right foot, long and slow. He licked the ball, the heel, then between each toe, his tongue darting into the crevices. He moaned against my skin, his eyes half-lidded, his movements growing more frantic. He switched to my left foot, licking and sucking, coating it in saliva.
"Fuck, yeah," I groaned. "Look at you. My son, licking my feet like a little bitch."
Carly's hand was a blur between her legs. "Yes... yes... lick his feet, Zak... you're so dirty... so perfect..."
I curled my toes. "Now suck them. Suck each toe like you sucked my cock. Show me how much you love your daddy's feet."
Zak's mouth closed around my big toe. He sucked it, his tongue swirling around it, his cheeks hollowing. He pulled back with a wet pop, then moved to the next toe, sucking and licking, treating each one like a delicate treat. His hands gripped my ankles, his eyes closed, lost in the act. He took my little toe all the way into his mouth, gagging slightly, but he kept going, his passion undeniable.
Carly cried out, her hips bucking. "Oh God... Zak... you're such a slut for your daddy... I'm gonna cum..."
I watched my son worship my feet, his mouth hot and eager, his moans muffled by my toes. The room was thick with the sound of wet sucking, Carly's gasps, and my own heavy breathing.
I let him continue, savoring every second.
I kept Zak on his knees between my legs for a long moment, his mouth still wet from sucking my toes, his eyes glazed with submission. Carly's fingers were still working her wet pussy on the bed, her breath coming in short gasps.
"Stand up," I ordered, my voice rough with arousal. "Turn around and sit on my cock. Face away from me."
Zak rose on shaky legs, his own cock hard and dripping. He turned his back to me, looking over his shoulder with a mix of anticipation and need. I guided him backward, my hands on his hips, until the head of my cock pressed against his tight hole. He gasped as I pulled him down, impaling him slowly, inch by inch.
Carly's mouth fell open. "Oh my God... Zak... you're sitting on your dad's dick..."
"Fuck... yes..." Zak groaned, his head falling back against my shoulder.
I wrapped my arms around his chest, holding him steady, and began to move. I fucked up into him, slow and deep at first, then faster, harder. The sound of skin slapping skin filled the room, mixed with Zak's moans and Carly's wet fingers working her clit.
"Look at her, Zak," I hissed in his ear. "Look at your girlfriend watching you take your daddy's cock like a bitch."
Zak's eyes were locked on Carly, who was now fingering herself furiously, her legs spread wide, her gaze fixed on the sight of her boyfriend being fucked by his father. I grabbed Zak's chin from behind, turning his face, and crushed my mouth against his. I kissed him hard, my tongue forcing its way inside, tasting my own precum still on his lips.
When I broke the kiss, I looked directly at Carly, my hips never stopping their brutal rhythm. "Zak," I growled, "tell me. Who gives you more pleasure? Me or Carly? Who fucks you better? Your daddy or your girlfriend?"
Zak's eyes met Carly's. There was a moment of hesitation, a flicker of conflict. But then I drove my cock deep into him, hitting that spot that made him see stars, and his resistance shattered.
"YOU, DADDY!" he screamed, his voice cracking with raw lust. "YOU FUCK ME BETTER! YOU GIVE ME MORE PLEASURE! YOU, DADDY! ONLY YOU!"
The words hung in the air like a thunderclap. Carly's eyes went wide, her fingers stilling for a split second before she cried out, her body convulsing as an intense orgasm ripped through her. Her juices sprayed onto the sheets as she bucked and moaned.
"FUCK... YES... CUM, DADDY... CUM INSIDE ME!" Zak bellowed, his body tensing.
I buried my face in his neck, biting down on his shoulder as my own release erupted. Hot ropes of cum pumped deep into his ass, filling him, marking him from the inside. At the same moment, Zak's body jerked, and ropes of white cum shot across his own stomach and chest, splattering his skin.
We collapsed together, panting, sweating, locked in a sweaty embrace. Carly lay on the bed, her hand still between her legs, her eyes wide, her mouth agape. She stared at us—at her boyfriend sitting on his father's lap, my cock still buried inside him, both of us coated in the aftermath.
She was shocked. She was silent. But her eyes never left us.
To get in touch with the author, send them an email.
