Cut grass. Bare feet in the lawn. A cooler lid swinging open, then slamming shut. Someone laughing too loud. A girl in cutoff shorts twirling a plastic cup. Smoke curling off the grill. Bottles sweating on the railing. The bass fuzzed out from a half-dead speaker.
And then, over by the cooler, Dalton: six-foot-five, thick as hell, bearded, a little too quiet. Holding a paper plate like he wasn’t sure where to stand.
He’d been invited by Braden, a gym buddy he liked, strong as hell, always had his shit together. Braden had mentioned his brothers a few times, said they were tight, said they grilled every couple weeks and had a chill time. Dalton figured why not.
He walked around the party, beer in hand. There were a bunch of guys hanging around over by the grill: Braden and what had to be his brothers.
There was a girl near the railing, turned away from him. Tight jeans, narrow waist, perfect little ass. Dalton looked once, quick. Damn. He took a sip of his beer, started heading down the steps.
“Yo!” Braden called. “Come meet everyone.”
Dalton followed him over. Braden pointed around: “That’s Jackson, that’s Tommy”—
Jackson tipped his chin up with a grin. “Hey, man.” Backwards cap, tall and lean.
Tommy gave a small nod, smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “What’s up.” Broad shoulders, solid build. Handsome guy.
“And that’s my little brother, Danny.”
The girl turned. Dalton’s stomach dropped. Not a girl.
Danny. Short dark hair. Pale skin. Calm, unreadable eyes. Barefoot on the grass. Just looking at him. Dalton blinked, forced a nod, like his brain wasn’t still trying to catch up.
That ass. That was Danny.
Inside, he ducked into the kitchen for water and found Danny already there, leaning against the counter. The party noise dimmed through the screen door.
“Hot as fuck out,” Dalton said, filling his glass. Without thinking, he peeled off his soaked shirt, standing there bare-chested, mountain of body hair on display.
Danny raised his beer. “Yeah.” His eyes moved up and down. Eventually back up.
Dalton laughed awkwardly. “Your brothers run this thing like a military op.”
“They always do.”
Danny’s voice was quiet, but not unsure. Every movement felt deliberate, from his half-smile to the way he didn’t step back. They stood there, not speaking, the silence charged.
“They look out for me,” Danny said, glancing toward the yard.
Dalton didn’t ask what that meant. He just nodded and stood there for a second.
Then from outside: “Dalton! Where the fuck are you?” Braden. Dalton smiled, Danny smiled back.
“I should go,” Dalton said.
“You should,” said Danny.
Dalton grabbed his glass and stepped back out.
Later, Danny walked up to them at the grill. He threw Dalton’s shirt at him in front of Braden and Jackson. “You forgot something.”
Dalton went red. They laughed, but Danny only smiled.
Someone called Danny into a round of cornhole. At first he refused, but the taunts pulled him in. He crossed the grass barefoot, sleeves shoved up, and wiped the floor. Bag after bag landed dead center, no wasted movement.
His brothers freaked out, accused him of cheating, but it was clear they knew what was up, little bro was a cornhole champ. Danny shrugged, handed off the last beanbag, and slipped back to the porch.
Dalton found himself beside him again.
“That was awesome, man. You gonna play more?,” he said.
“One round’s enough.”
“You beat half the guys out there without breaking a sweat.”
“They’ll forget by tomorrow.”
“It was kinda hot, to be honest. They way you handled those bags.”
Danny gave Dalton a look, a half-smile. Dalton just looked at him for a second, then looked away.
Danny glanced down. His eyes lingered for half a beat then dropped lower. The bulge in Dalton’s jeans was obvious. Unmistakable. He didn’t say anything. Just looked.
When someone shouted for more drinks, Dalton stood to help, adjusting himself. Danny moved too. “I’ll come.”
They crossed the yard together, big, broad Dalton and compact, quiet Danny. At the cooler, Dalton popped lids while Danny stacked bottles and cans with methodical ease. Up close, he smelled clean. Like cotton and soap under the smoke and sweat.
The night dragged long, stories, whiskey, mosquitoes. But Dalton kept wanting to talk to Danny. And Danny, for all his stillness, kept talking back.
When it was time to leave, Dalton stood. “Early morning.”
“I’ll walk you out,” Danny said.
They crossed the yard together. At the truck, Danny leaned against the fender, sleeves pushed up, sweater catching the porch light.
“Everyone liked you. If you were wondering,” Danny said.
Dalton looked at him, laughed for a second. “Thanks. Good group of guys.”
“We’re alright.”
Dalton looked down again and gripped his keys. “We should hang out again.” Dalton looked up. “You and me.”
Danny met his eyes. “Yeah. We should.”
Dalton climbed into the truck, body hot, jeans tight. He groaned as he unzipped, cock flushed and heavy across his thigh. In the mirror, he saw Danny walking back toward the house, slow, easy, ass full and perfect in denim. Then Danny paused, turned, and looked back.
Dalton spat into his palm, eyes locked on the mirror.
Danny lingered. Just a second. Then he turned again, sweater hugging the shape of him.
Dalton stroked hard, hips lifting off the seat. The truck rocked. He growled, spit-slicked, fist pumping his cock while the image burned behind his eyes.
Streetlights passed overhead, but all he saw was Danny. The sweater. The curve of his ass. The look over his shoulder.
The way that he looked back at him. That look in his eye. Like he was making it happen. Dalton exploded.
The gym was bright and noisy. Dalton was toweling off after front squats when he saw him.
Danny by the dumbbell rack, tight tank top and shorts, pale forearms corded with muscle. Headphones in and focused. Like Dalton wasn’t even there. But he’d seen him. A quick nod. Then back to work.
Dalton moved to a cable station, tried to focus, failed. In the mirror, Danny moved with slow, clean precision, his ass jiggling as he shifted. Dalton gave up halfway through the set. Grabbed his towel. Walked over.
“You always train here?” he asked.
Danny tugged out one earbud. “Sometimes.”
Dalton nodded. “Didn’t expect to see you.”
Danny gave him a quick once-over. “Are you happy about it?.”
Dalton let out a quiet breath. “Yeah, actually. I am.”
Danny set his dumbbells down and straightened. “You following me?”
Dalton blinked. “What?”
Danny’s mouth twitched. “Kidding.”
Silence settled. Another barbell dropped nearby. Neither flinched. Then Danny turned. “Gonna go finish up. See you around?”
Dalton nodded. Turned fast. Boner straining against his shorts. No hiding it.
Dalton spotted him the second he walked into the sauna. Danny sat on the far bench, back to the room, shoulders straight, a towel slung low around his waist. Steam curled off his skin, gleaming in the low light. He didn’t move when Dalton entered, didn’t even glance up. Like he’d been waiting.
Dalton dropped onto the bench opposite. The wood hissed under him. He leaned back, chest rising, sweat already dripping into his chest hair. Working out always made his cock get heavy and thick, but he figured the towel would cover it.
Then Danny shifted. His towel slipped once. Then again. This time he let it fall. Dalton’s breath locked in his throat.
Danny’s back narrowed to a perfect V, muscles taut under smooth, pale skin. But it was his ass that stole the air from Dalton’s lungs. Wide. Round. Unreal. Each glute a perfect curve, divided by a clean, deep crease. As Danny moved, the trench opened a little, and there it was: the glimpse of his soft pink hole, barely perceptible between smooth cheeks.
Dalton’s cock jerked under his towel, fat and fast, swelling against the cotton. And then Danny turned. Dalton’s eyes dropped and froze.
Steel. Gleaming in the steam. A cock cage, tight and bright against smooth skin. His balls were pulled tight through the base, hairless, clean, and the rest of him locked away, hidden behind polished bars that glinted with sweat.
Dalton’s mouth went dry. He’d seen a cage before. A few weeks back, he’d caught a glimpse of one on a guy he used to let blow him. Just a flash, but the image burned into his head. Confusing. Dirty. Hot. He’d thought about it while jerking off, hating himself for thinking about it.
And now here it was. Danny. That ass. That cage. All of it in front of him, real and unhidden. Dalton’s cock surged, thick and wet under the towel. His breathing went ragged.
“What the fuck…” he muttered, before he could stop himself.
Danny didn’t flinch. Just looked at him calmly. Dalton tried to breathe, but the steam didn’t let him. He shifted on the bench and the towel rode higher, the shape of his cock now obscene, the head already leaking, fabric dark.
Danny leaned back against the wall, arms loose at his sides. His chest rose and fell slow. His legs opened just enough to show the full cage. Dalton immediately noticed how small and shiny it was, like a little jewel. Framed by small, smooth, tight balls. Nothing to distract from it.
Dalton dragged a hand through his beard. His eyes snapped back to the cage every time he tried to look away.
“You’re locked up,” he said finally, voice cracking in the hot air. Immediately ashamed at saying the stupidest thing.
Danny’s head tilted, curious. “I am.”
Dalton’s cock twitched again. A spasm this time. The towel pitched higher. He groaned, low and broken. “Why would you…”
Danny didn’t move. Just sat there, still as marble.
Dalton’s chest heaved, sweat dripping down through the forest of hair between his pecs, into the dark heat under the towel where his cock throbbed like a second heart.
“You can’t… walk around like that,” Dalton muttered, voice breaking, somewhere between awe and plea.
Danny stayed calm. His gaze dropped once, slow and deliberate, and caught the moment when Dalton’s towel slid open and his big boner popped out. His eyes slid up to meet Dalton’s. He tilted his head. Then stood up.
He turned and bent to pick up his towel on the floor. His glutes flexed as he bent, round and perfect. The trench between them opened, showing Dalton more than a glimpse now, a soft, pink asshole glistening in the steam. For one heartbeat, it looked like it winked at him. HIs cock surged so hard it hurt. A low groan seeped out of him.
Danny stood back up and tossed the towel at Dalton. It landed on his crotch where his large erection tented straight up through the white cotton like a ghost.
“You’re sweating,” Danny said softly.
Then he turned, pushed open the door, and left.
Dalton sat frozen, towel pitched, cock throbbing under his hand where he’d grabbed himself without thinking. All he could see was that slow turn. That soft pink wink. The cage gleaming.
Dalton didn’t last five minutes. He shoved out of the steam room, yanked on his clothes. The t-shirt clung to his damp chest. His jeans fought the bulge the whole way up. He didn’t care. He had to find Danny.
When he hit the exit, the night air slapped him, cool and sharp. He spotted Danny halfway across the lot, hair damp, fresh clothes hugging his frame. Those jeans again, riding low on his hips, cupping his ass like they’d been stitched there.
“Hey!” Dalton’s voice came out louder than he meant, echoing between cars.
Danny slowed, turned. He seemed undisturbed. Dalton crossed the pavement in a few long strides, heat still rolling off him, chest heaving. “What the fuck was that back there?”
His cock was still hard, shoved against denim, throbbing like it was going to split him open. Danny’s eyes flicked down once at the bulge straining in Dalton’s jeans. Then back up. “What do you think it was?”
Dalton swore, dragging a hand over his beard. “I don’t… I don’t get it.” His voice cracked, frustration bleeding through. “Why would you do that to yourself?”
Danny took a step closer. He looked Dalton in the eye, steady. “You’re the one about to bust in your jeans.”
Dalton stopped for a second. His cock twitched hard, pressing against the zipper, making it groan.
“What’s that?” Danny said, pointing at Dalton’s massive bulge. He leaned in slightly, his voice low. “Say it.”
Dalton’s chest rose, fell. “My cock,” he muttered.
Danny shook his head. “Louder.”
“My cock,” Dalton said again, voice rough, eyes burning. His hips jerked against the denim, cock straining huge.
Danny’s mouth twitched like the ghost of a smile. “Yeah. Your big fat rock-hard cock.”
Danny stepped back, cool as ever, and headed for his car. Dalton just stood there, fists clenched, jeans stretched to breaking, every nerve in his body screaming.
The taillights flared red as Danny pulled out of the lot, leaving Dalton alone under the buzzing lamps, cock swollen and leaking, his whole chest heaving like he’d just gone twelve rounds.
Dalton couldn’t stop himself. He waited until Danny’s taillights hit the corner, then fired up his truck and followed. The drive wasn’t long, a couple turns, quiet streets, then Danny’s car eased into the driveway of a big brick house. Porch light on, curtains drawn. Dalton pulled in right behind him, engine rumbling.
Danny shut his car door, turned, and saw the truck there. He didn’t look surprised. He didn’t even look annoyed. He just stood, keys in hand, waiting. Dalton killed the engine, climbed out, fists tight, chest heaving, too far gone to be embarrassed.
Danny walked over slow, stopping just a few feet away. Dalton’s jaw clenched. “You’ve got me losing my mind, man.”
Danny tilted his head, lips parting just slightly. “Looks like it.”
Dalton stepped closer, close enough their bodies almost touched. His breath came hard. “What does it mean? Just tell me.”
Danny’s eyes flicked down again, lingered this time. His voice was even. “If you don’t know yet, you’re a lost cause, bro.”
Danny moved, just a hand, slow, fingers brushing along Dalton’s bulge through the damp cotton. “See? Your big fat rock-hard cock understands it.”
Dalton’s head tipped back, chest heaving, sweat dripping into his beard. “Fuck,” he muttered, breath ragged. “You’re… you’re playing with me, man.”
“You followed me here.” Danny withdrew his hand, turned without another word, and started walking toward the door.
Dalton stood there panting, cock bulging and aching, until Danny unlocked the door and looked back over his shoulder. Just once. He followed.
The house was dim, quiet. Just their breath and the electric buzz under Dalton’s skin. Danny stepped forward, casual, and peeled off his tank in one smooth motion.
“All my brothers are out tonight,” he said, voice low, even. “So don’t worry.”
His thumbs slipped under the waistband. The shorts dropped to the floor. Dalton’s breath caught. Underneath: an army green thong, barely a string, the pouch stretched tight across Danny’s cage, disappearing between his cheeks. Dalton’s cock jerked violently.
Danny slid the thong down slow, smooth skin gleaming, until he stepped out of it and stood fully naked in the low light. The cage glinted: tight, polished steel framing his small locked cock, balls full and high. Dalton couldn’t look away.
Danny turned and walked into the living room. Dalton stumbled after him, cock so hard it throbbed with every step, fat and heavy, leaking through his soaked briefs. His jeans were open, bunched around his hips, unable to hold him in. Every move made his shaft bounce, wet cotton clinging.
Danny turned, calm as ever, and stepped right up to him. Without asking, he reached out and pulled Dalton’s shirt up and off. His hands went to Dalton’s jeans, tugged them down, and the soaked boxer briefs came with them.
Dalton stood there, naked. His chest heaved, hairy and flushed, sweat dripping down his torso. His cock was thick, dark, veined, fully erect, the head slick with precum, surrounded by a wild bush of coarse black hair.
Danny looked him over once, then nodded toward the couch. “Sit.”
Dalton obeyed, dazed, dropping into the cushion with his legs spread wide. His cock slapped against his abs, thick and shining.
Danny stood in front of him, completely naked. He reached down and cradled his cage in one hand, lifting it slightly, letting it sway against his smooth, hairless skin. He rolled it between his fingers, showing it off.
“You really like my cage, huh…” Danny murmured, watching him closely.
Dalton didn’t answer. Couldn’t. His mouth was open, breath shallow, eyes locked on the steel. His cock pulsed once, leaving a bead of slick on his abs.
Danny let the cage fall and turned around.
“I think you like this too,” he said, voice calm, almost amused.
He reached back, placed his hands on the tops of his glutes, and spread them apart.
Dalton gasped.
Danny’s ass was a masterpiece, round, smooth, high. But now, bared and opened for him, the crease spread wide, his hole was exposed, soft, pink, tight pucker, totally smooth.
Dalton’s voice came out like a confession. “So fucking pretty.”
Danny looked over his shoulder, mouth curled in the barest smirk. “Yeah? Remind you of something?”
Before Dalton could speak, Danny turned and climbed straight into his lap, thighs wide, heat everywhere.
Dalton groaned when all that heat pressed against him. Skin on skin. The cage nudging his cock, Danny’s thighs spread over his, slick and soft.
Dalton’s hands moved without thinking. They found Danny’s waist, then slid down, cupping his ass in both hands. The cheeks filled his palms, hot and smooth, perfect. He kneaded hard, squeezing, and his thumbs dragged deep into the crease, finding the slick heat of Danny’s hole and pressing without thinking.
“You do like it, I knew it.”
Danny shifted, grinding the cage down into Dalton’s cock. The steel dug against the hard shaft, and Dalton let out a strangled moan.
Danny leaned in, lips close to his ear. “Look down.”
Dalton looked. His cock was massive, fat and twitching and right against it, the steel cage. Caged boycock against free alpha dick. The sight alone made his balls draw tight.
“Say what you see,” Danny whispered.
Dalton’s voice was raw. “Your cage… and my fucking cock.”
Danny’s mouth twitched. “That’s right.”
He rolled his hips, cage grinding into Dalton’s shaft again.
Dalton groaned, fingers digging into Danny’s ass, thumbs circling his hole like he couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop. “Jesus, fuck—”
Dalton’s cock stood thick between them, flushed dark, gleaming with slick. Fat veins curled along the shaft like ropes under skin. The head pulsed, leaking heavy down his length, pooling into the wet thicket of hair at his base.
Danny shifted in his lap, smooth thighs gliding over Dalton’s rough, hairy ones, the cage cool where it pressed against Dalton’s stomach.
Then Danny reached down. His small hand wrapped around Dalton’s shaft, fingers spread wide, barely closing around the girth. He stroked once dragging precum from base to tip, coating every ridge.
Dalton’s head slammed back into the couch, a roar torn straight from his chest. “Jesus fuck—” His hips bucked up into Danny’s grip, cock twitching so hard a thick rope of precum smeared up Danny’s smooth belly.
Danny kept stroking, patient and precise. His fist slid down, then up again, each stroke wet, obscene, a slick rhythm between them. His voice came low, calm, steady:
“You get it now? I’m locked, you’re not.” Danny leaned in and whispered in Dalton’s ear: “You can be with a dude and still have the only cock in the room.”
Dalton groaned like he’d been punched. His whole body bucked up into Danny’s grip, his cock pulsing with a fresh flood of precum, smeared across the younger man’s belly. The fat shaft throbbed in Danny’s hand, so big it looked brutal.
“Fuck, you’ve got me—” His voice broke. “I can’t—fuck—”
Danny’s grip tightened just enough. His wrist twisted slightly at the top of each stroke, drawing a moan from deep in Dalton’s chest. The sounds between them were wet, constant, each pass louder than the last.
“You’re leaking all over me,” Danny said, calm as ever. “You’ve got so much cock, and it needs so much attention.”
Dalton’s jaw went slack. His chest heaved like he was drowning. “Don’t stop,” he begged, voice hoarse. “Please—”
But Danny was already letting go. He slid off Dalton without a word. Dalton groaned like something had been taken from him. His cock bobbed free, angry and wet, slapping against his stomach, flushed, swollen, shining. He stared down at himself, panting, fists clenched.
Danny settled on the floor between his spread thighs. Dalton’s cock stood flushed and hard, thick as ever, curving up from his dark, damp bush. It twitched once when Danny looked at it, heavy drops of pre hanging from the slit.
Danny reached up and cupped Dalton’s balls, lifting them gently. “These are big bull balls,” he said, quiet.
Dalton’s breath hitched. His legs were wide, hairy, tense under Danny’s touch. Danny leaned forward and kissed one ball, then the other. “All your sperm.”
He kissed them again, lips soft, his breath warm against the skin.
“I really respect a man with a big penis.”
Dalton groaned. His cock throbbed above Danny’s head, already wet.
Danny looked up once, then down again. “I love your penis.”
He leaned in and kissed the base, then the side of the shaft. “I love looking at it.”
He kissed the thick vein. “I love how big it is.”
He nuzzled into Dalton’s bush, kissed there too. “I like the way it smells.”
Dalton’s hands were clenching at the couch. His cock jerked, dripping another bead. Danny kissed just under the head. Then again, this time slower.
“I love tasting it.”
His tongue came out, small flicks across the slit. He tasted the pre, swallowed it.
“I love all of it. The way it leaks.” He caught another bead of pre with his tongue.
His hands stayed under Dalton’s balls, holding them. “These are so heavy.”
Dalton grunted. Danny kissed the head again. Then he opened his mouth and took just the tip in. His lips wrapped softly around the head. His tongue swirled once. He sucked, light and warm, then pulled back, a thin string of spit still clinging to the tip.
“I like it in my mouth.”
He took the head again, a little deeper, just holding it there on his tongue. Dalton’s body shook. He groaned, hips twitching. Danny didn’t move fast. He pulled off again, kissed the shaft, licked the head.
“I love your penis, Dalton. I really do.”
He opened his mouth and took him again, slow, careful, deeper. The thick head slid in past his lips, over his tongue, down his throat, inch by inch.
Dalton’s hands shook where they gripped the couch. He was groaning, low and broken, watching every inch disappear. Danny didn’t rush. He worked his mouth steady, lips stretched wide, tongue pressed low. Spit mixed with pre, shining down his chin. When he pulled off again, he looked up, lips wet, calm as ever.
“You’ve got such a good penis, Dalton.”
Danny leaned in and swallowed him deeper this time, sliding down until his lips pressed into Dalton’s bush, nose buried in the sweat-damp hair. Dalton roared, one huge hand finally landing on the back of Danny’s head, holding him there for a second before pulling back, terrified he’d hurt him.
Danny coughed once, spit dripping down his chin, but his eyes were steady. “Do it again,” he said, plain.
Dalton’s eyes burned. He grabbed Danny’s head with both hands this time, thick fingers in his damp hair, and guided him back down. Danny let him. Lips stretching wide, throat opening slow, until Dalton’s fat shaft slid deep again.
Dalton’s whole body shook. His hairy thighs flexed under Danny’s hands, his stomach heaved, his cock filled Danny’s mouth until spit and precum mixed and ran down his chin. He pulled him up, then shoved him down again, hips bucking, eyes rolled back.
Danny gagged once but steadied himself, drool streaming down his chest, cage pressing cold into the couch between Dalton’s thighs. When he came up for breath, he wiped his chin and said hoarsely, “That’s it. That’s what I want, your big fat penis in my mouth.”
Dalton bellowed, voice breaking, chest trembling as he pumped his hips up into Danny’s waiting throat again. “Goddamn you… goddamn you, you’re gonna make me—”
Danny pulled himself back, holding Dalton’s penis, fat and swollen, in his hand. It was so hard it looked painful, veins standing out under his flushed skin, the head glossy with a thick bead of fluid that smeared down into his dark bush. Danny’s fingers worked steady, spreading the slick, pumping him slow and deliberate.
He looked up, eyes calm. “Say the word,” he told him. “Say what this is.”
Dalton groaned, hips jerking into the fist. “My cock—”
Danny tightened his grip, just under the head, squeezing until Dalton gasped. “No. Say it. Penis.”
Dalton’s eyes rolled back, his chest heaving. “My… penis.”
“Again.”
“My penis,” Dalton said louder this time, voice breaking. His hips lifted off the couch, precum spilling over Danny’s fist.
Danny leaned down, licked the swollen head, tongue circling the slit. He pulled off with his lips wet. “That’s better. Your big thick hairy penis.” He stroked him harder now, grip slick. “And it’s the only one here, because I don’t have one.”
Dalton groaned so loud the couch rattled. “Fuck, yeah—Jesus—I love that you don’t have a cock.”
Danny nodded once, steady. “Of course you do. It makes this” — he squeezed the shaft, fat head spurting a dribble over his fingers — “the center of attention. And that’s what you need, huh?”
Dalton’s hands grabbed the cushions, knuckles white. “Goddamn right—fuck—look at it. Look at my big penis in your hand.”
Danny bent down again, took him into his mouth, lips stretching wide. Dalton shouted, hips thrusting up, the thick shaft sliding deep into his throat. Danny worked him slow, letting him feel every inch, then pulled off, spit dripping down his chin.
He looked Dalton in the eye, hand stroking fast now. “Tell me what’s about to come out.”
Dalton’s face twisted, beard dripping sweat, balls tight and heavy between his legs. “My… my cum—”
Danny shook his head, pumping faster. “The right word.”
Dalton bellowed, chest rising like he was drowning. “Sperm! My sperm—fuck—I’m gonna shoot my sperm!”
Danny swallowed him again just as the first pulse hit. Dalton roared, hips jerking up off the couch, his penis exploding in Danny’s throat. Hot, thick sperm poured out, flooding his mouth. Danny gulped down what he could, sperm spilling over his lips, dripping down his chin onto his smooth chest.
Dalton held his head down, eyes rolled back, growl ripping out of his chest. His hairy thighs shook as his balls emptied, shot after shot of sperm pumping through his penis into Danny’s mouth.
When it finally slowed, Danny pulled off, lips shiny, sperm smeared across his chin. His hand stroked the last spurts from Dalton’s fat shaft, milking him dry.
Dalton collapsed back, chest heaving, penis twitching in the open air, still leaking. His voice came out hoarse. “Fuck… you in your cage… and I just shot my load down your throat.” He groaned, dragging a hand over his beard. “That’s what fucking gets me.”
Danny wiped his chin with the back of his hand, calm as ever, cage glinting between his smooth thighs. “Good,” he said simply. “That’s how it’s supposed to be.”
Dalton slumped against the couch. His penis was still rigid, fat shaft veined and angry, head slick and leaking more clear fluid over his bush. Danny’s chin was wet with sperm, lips shiny. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, but his gaze stayed locked on the swollen shaft. Steady, hungry.
Dalton looked down at himself, cock twitching, dripping over his hairy stomach. “Won’t quit.”
Danny stroked him once, slow, spreading the slick. His voice was plain. “That’s because you’re not done. Your penis knows what it wants.”
Dalton’s hips jerked into the touch, a growl rattling in his chest. “Yeah? And what’s that?”
Danny climbed into his lap again. He guided himself down, bare ass settling over Dalton’s rigid shaft.
Dalton had both hands clamped on Danny’s cheeks, spreading them wide. His fat penis throbbed up hard against the smooth trench, head slick and swollen, smearing precum into the crease. His breath was ragged, chest heaving, sweat dripping from his beard.
Danny held himself steady in Dalton’s lap, thighs spread over the hairy bulk of him. He reached back with one hand, guided the thick head lower until it nudged exactly where he wanted it. His voice was low but clear.
“Right here,” he said. “My anus.”
Dalton groaned like the word knocked the air out of him. His cock surged, jerking up against that soft ring. “Fuck… your anus,” he rasped, eyes wild.
Danny pushed back slow, letting the fat head press into the tight ring. The stretch was instant, sharp, his smooth hole fighting to take the thickness. He hissed, steady, his jaw tight, but he didn’t stop.
Dalton’s whole body shook under him. His hands dug into Danny’s ass, spreading him wider, guiding him down. His voice was raw. “Jesus Christ… it’s so tight… your anus is swallowing me.”
The crown of his penis popped through, heat wrapping around him like a fist. Dalton’s roar filled the room. His eyes rolled back, mouth open, beard wet with sweat. “Oh fuck—your anus—your tight fucking anus has me.”
Danny exhaled through his nose, steady, sweat sliding down his smooth chest. He held himself there, just the thick head lodged inside, the cage pressing cool against Dalton’s stomach. His voice stayed calm. “That’s it. Feel it. Your penis in my anus. That’s what this is.”
Dalton could barely breathe. His hips jerked once, forcing another inch inside. His hairy thighs trembled, his big hands crushed Danny’s cheeks together around his cock. “Goddamn… you’re pulling me in. Your anus is pulling all of me in.”
Danny groaned low, eyes half-lidded, then settled his weight, letting another stretch of thick shaft slide deeper into his body. The room filled with the sound of Dalton’s ragged growls, his penis sinking slow into Danny’s smooth, gripping anus.
“That’s more of your penis inside my anus. Feel how it pulls you down?”
Dalton groaned, a sound torn from deep in his chest. “Christ… your anus is choking me. It’s so… fuck—it’s so tight.”
Danny shifted his hips just enough to work another inch down, the swollen shaft sliding deeper. The ring clenched, then yielded, and Dalton roared, his eyes squeezed shut, head slamming back into the couch.
“Don’t fight it,” Danny said, breath hissing between his teeth. “Your penis belongs in my anus. All of it. Let it happen.”
Danny leaned forward now, palms on Dalton’s chest, smooth body pressing into the mat of hair. “More. Feel it. Your penis filling my anus. Moving deep inside me.”
Dalton’s breath hitched, every nerve on fire. His cock throbbed inside the gripping heat, precum smearing deep, the tightness milking him before he’d even moved. He growled, half desperate, half awed. “You’re swallowing me whole. Goddamn, your anus… it’s got me.”
Danny didn’t stop until nearly all of him was buried, the base of Dalton’s thick shaft pressed snug against his smooth cheeks. He sat there still, cock locked inside him, both of them drenched in sweat.
Danny’s lips brushed his ear, voice steady, plain. “Now you know. Your penis belongs in my anus.”
Dalton could only groan, huge hands clutching Danny’s ass, his whole body shaking under the weight of it.
Dalton’s penis was buried to the root, thick shaft throbbing, pressed tight inside Danny’s asscheeks.
“Feel that,” Danny said, calm but steady. “This isn’t like a girl. My anus is tighter, hungrier.” He squeezed his cheeks together around the fat shaft, and Dalton’s roar shook the room.
Danny leaned forward, lips close to Dalton’s ear. “You know why it’s better? Because of the cage. Your big fat penis is the only one that matters.”
Dalton’s jaw clenched, eyes squeezed shut. His hairy arms wrapped around Danny’s back, crushing him close, cock pulsing hard inside that unrelenting heat. “Jesus Christ…” he rasped. “You’re right. You’re fucking right. My penis… goddamn… it belongs in your anus.”
Danny rocked just a fraction, enough to grind Dalton deeper into the clutch of his hole. “Say it again.”
Dalton’s voice broke as he shouted, hips straining to thrust but Danny held him pinned. “My penis belongs in your anus!”
The words tore out of him, raw, sweat dripping from his beard down onto Danny’s smooth back. His cock lurched inside the grip, balls tightening again though they’d already emptied.
Danny’s voice cut through the heavy air, low and plain. “You know what the cage means?”
Dalton’s eyes cracked open, burning with need. “It means you’re locked. You’ve got no cock.”
Danny ground down once, tight ring clutching hard around him. “It means I love penis more than anything. Enough to give mine up. Enough to show you how much yours matters.”
Dalton let out a strangled sound, half growl, half moan. His head slammed back into the couch, hands trembling on Danny’s ass. “Fuck… fuck, I love that.”
Danny pressed closer, smooth chest sliding over Dalton’s sweaty hair. “Say it. Say you like that I cage myself, that I gave it up to show how much I love penis.”
Dalton’s whole body shook, his fat cock pulsing deep inside that relentless grip. “Goddamn it—I love it. I fucking love that you cage yourself. I love that you don’t have a cock because you love penis that much. My penis.” His voice cracked into a roar. “You did it for this.”
Danny kissed his jaw, calm even as his anus squeezed hard around the throbbing shaft. “That’s the truth. That’s why it’s better. Because you know I chose this, and your penis is everything.”
Dalton’s hips surged again, but Danny pressed down with his palms on Dalton’s chest, locking him still. Dalton’s voice came out broken, begging now.
“Please… please move. Your anus has me—fuck—I can’t take it.”
Danny’s lips brushed his ear, calm and plain. “Not until you mean it. Not until you say it’s the only thing you want.”
Dalton’s head thrashed back into the couch, his hairy thighs shaking under Danny’s smooth ones, cock pulsing so violently inside that tight, gripping heat he thought he might explode without moving. “It is!” he shouted, voice hoarse. “Your anus and my penis. That’s all I want!”
Danny smiled faintly, squeezing him one last time. He shifted his weight at last, palms still braced on Dalton’s hairy chest. He lifted himself just enough that Dalton’s fat penis dragged along the gripping length of his anus, the tight ring clinging before he sank back down slow.
Dalton’s roar shook the room. His hips bucked, finally allowed to thrust, the thick shaft sliding in slick and hot. “Jesus Christ—finally—”
His big hands clamped Danny’s ass, spreading him wide as he drove up into that clutching heat. Danny groaned low, steady. His smooth body rode the hairy bulk beneath him, cage pressing into Dalton’s stomach with every drop. “That’s it. Your penis moving in my anus. That’s what you wanted from the second you saw me.”
Dalton’s face twisted, beard wet with sweat, eyes wild. “Fuck, yeah—I wanted this—your tight anus wrapped around my penis.” He slammed up harder, cock disappearing inside with a wet sound. “It’s better than anything I’ve ever had.”
Danny rode him slow, deliberate, letting the thick shaft grind through the grip of his body. Each drop squeezed another groan out of Dalton, another growl from deep in his chest.
Dalton’s eyes rolled back, his roar breaking into a gasp. His cock surged inside, balls tightening again, even though he’d already emptied once. He pulled Danny down hard, hilting deep, buried to the root. “Goddamn it—you’re gonna drain me again.”
Danny kissed his ear, his voice calm as his body clutched around him. “Good. Do it. Fill my anus with your sperm. That’s where it belongs.”
Dalton suddenly surged up, big hands grabbing his waist. The couch groaned under the shift. In a blur Dalton had him flipped onto his back, Danny sprawled across the cushions, smooth skin stretched tight, cage pressed up against his stomach.
Dalton loomed over him, thick chest heaving, beard dripping sweat. His fat penis stayed buried inside Danny, pulsing deep. He hooked one of Danny’s smooth legs up over his shoulder, then the other, spreading him wide.
Danny’s toes brushed Dalton’s lips and he didn’t hesitate — he caught them in his mouth, sucking hard, groaning around them. Danny laughed through a gasp, voice breaking but steady. “That’s it. Fuck me.”
Dalton pulled back, then slammed forward with his full weight. His cock drove into Danny’s asshole with a wet slap, the thick shaft disappearing to the root. Danny’s back arched, mouth open in a cry, his cage gleaming against his flat stomach.
Dalton pounded again, harder, the hairy bulk of him crashing into Danny’s smooth frame. His mouth kept Danny’s toes captive, tongue laving over them while his fat cock hammered deeper and deeper. Each thrust dragged a guttural roar out of him.
Danny’s voice was ragged now, plain words spilling between gasps. “Yes—your penis—pounding my anus—harder—” He clutched at Dalton’s hairy chest, nails dragging through the sweat. “This is what you’re built for.”
Dalton growled, spit slicking Danny’s toes as he pumped them in and out of his mouth, his hips slamming with brutal force. “Goddamn right. My penis—your anus—it’s all I need.”
Danny’s head thrashed back into the cushions, body shaking under the relentless pounding. “Fill me,” he shouted, voice breaking. “Fill my anus with your sperm!”
Dalton’s roar tore out of him, hips snapping like pistons, the fat shaft battering into the clutching heat. His balls slapped against Danny’s smooth ass, tight and heavy, ready to burst again. His beard dripped sweat onto Danny’s chest, their bodies slick and colliding in the dark, wet rhythm.
Dalton’s fat penis slammed into Danny’s anus over and over, each thrust louder than the last, the couch creaking beneath them. His hairy body glistened with sweat, muscles straining, beard dripping onto Danny’s smooth chest.
Danny’s legs were folded high, ankles resting on Dalton’s broad shoulders. Every time Dalton drove in, the thick shaft spread him wide, his anus clinging, milking, refusing to let go. Danny’s cage pressed hot between their stomachs, glinting under the dim light.
Dalton tore his mouth away, gasping, eyes wild. “Jesus Christ—your anus—fuck—it’s strangling me.” He hammered down harder, balls slapping against Danny’s ass. “You’re gonna make me blow my sperm again.”
Danny shook his head, sweat flying from his hair. “Not yet. You hold it. You keep pounding me. You make me feel every inch of your penis before you let go.”
Dalton’s roar shook the room. His huge hands clutched Danny’s thighs, pinning him open as he drove in again, cock swelling, balls tight, every vein bulging under the strain of holding back. His face twisted, desperate, beard dripping, teeth bared.
Danny’s voice dropped to a whisper, steady even as his body trembled. “Stay there. Stay hard in my anus. Don’t give it up until I tell you.”
Dalton groaned like he was being torn apart, hips still crashing down, cock buried to the root in that gripping heat, his whole body caught in the fight not to explode.
Dalton’s roar shook the room as he pulled out almost to the tip, then shoved back in hard. Danny cried out, back arched, his smooth body quivering under the impact. Dalton couldn’t take it anymore; he growled, bent forward, and in one brutal motion rolled Danny onto his stomach.
Danny hit the couch cushions with a gasp, smooth chest pressed into the fabric, glutes round and spread open. His cage clinked softly against the couch as he pushed up onto his elbows, looking back over his shoulder. “Do it,” he said, plain. “Give me your penis.”
Dalton groaned so deep it rattled the air. He climbed over him, massive hairy body covering Danny’s smaller frame, his fat cock pressed against the tight opening. With one brutal thrust he was buried again, his penis disappearing into Danny’s anus, balls slapping hard against smooth skin.
“Fuck! Your anus is swallowing my whole cock.”
Danny’s voice was ragged but steady. “That’s right. I’ve got no cock, just this. Just my anus. And your penis is the only one that gets it.”
Dalton groaned like an animal, hair plastered to his chest and shoulders, cock raging inside Danny’s heat, right on the knife-edge of giving in.
“Goddamn,” Dalton roared, voice ragged, hips snapping like pistons. “Your anus—it’s a pussy! It’s a tight fucking boy pussy!”
Danny gasped into the cushions, arms trembling under him, his whole body rocking with every brutal thrust. His smooth ass reddened under Dalton’s pounding, the slap of skin echoing through the room.
“Sweet pink boy pussy,” Dalton growled, sweat dripping down onto Danny’s neck. “Better than anything. Your boy pussy’s the only thing I want.”
Danny sobbed into the cushions, hole stretched around him, cage digging into the fabric beneath. “Yes—take it—pound my boy pussy until your sperm’s in me—”
Dalton’s hips snapped harder, faster, his fat shaft pulsing deep inside, right on the edge of breaking.
Danny’s voice tore out in a ragged cry. “Do it! Shoot your sperm in my boy pussy—give it to me!”
Dalton bellowed like an animal. His cock burst deep inside Danny’s boypussy, hot sperm flooding out in heavy pulses. He drove in harder with each spurt, pounding through his orgasm, balls slapping, cock jerking violently inside the clutching ring.
Thick streams of sperm filled Danny, slick pouring out around the fat shaft with every brutal thrust. Dalton’s roar shook the room as he emptied, his huge body shaking over Danny’s smaller frame, buried to the root in that boypussy.
Danny moaned through his tears, hips jerking back to take every drop. “Yes—yes—your sperm’s in me—your penis owns my boypussy—”
Dalton collapsed forward, breath crashing out of him, beard soaked, chest heaving against Danny’s back. His hips still gave a few weak, involuntary pumps as the last spurts left him, draining out of his swollen balls into the tight, slick heat.
His voice rumbled low, raw in Danny’s ear: “Goddamn it… you’re mine.”
The words just came out. He didn’t even know he was going to say them until they were already there, hanging between them.
Danny didn’t answer. Didn’t move for a second.
Dalton slumped back into the couch, dazed. His whole body glistened, sweat running down the thick hair on his chest, stomach, thighs. He was still half inside Danny, softening now, but his hand stayed firm on Danny’s hip.
He didn’t want to let go yet. Something about this felt more real than anything had in a long time.
Danny finally shifted, slow and careful. He eased forward, letting Dalton slip free with a quiet stretch and wet sound. He reached for the throw blanket, pulled it over his lap, and sat down beside him.
They were quiet for a long moment. Dalton sat there, head back, staring at the ceiling like it might give him answers. His cock lay heavy across his thigh, glistening in the low light, his heart pounding in the echo of what just happened.
He dragged a hand through his beard. “Jesus,” he muttered, voice rough. “I don’t even know what the fuck just happened to me.”
Danny glanced at him. Something had changed. That comment, “you’re mine,” was sticking with him. Not in the fun, cocky way he’d teased earlier. Not like you own my hole. This was something else. He looked at Dalton again. This was a man who followed him home. A stranger. And he’d just let him in, more than he ever had with any other guy.
Danny gave a small, neutral smile. “You don’t have to figure it out tonight.”
Dalton looked at him, searching. “That sounds like a goodbye.”
Danny paused. His shoulders rose and fell with one slow breath. “It’s late. That’s all.”
Dalton sat forward, still trying to catch up with whatever was happening inside him. “Will I see you again?”
Danny didn’t answer right away. Just looked at him. Something flickered behind his eyes, something cautious. But then he nodded. “Yeah. You will.”
Dalton didn’t push. He just nodded too, tension leaving his shoulders. He grabbed his jeans, tugged them on, still glancing over at Danny. Still taking him in, smooth skin, caged cock, unreadable face.
When Dalton stood, he hesitated. He didn’t say anything more, but he looked back once at the door. Danny met his eyes, calm, the blanket loose around his waist now.
Dalton nodded. “Thanks.”
Danny’s voice was quiet. “Drive safe.”
Dalton stepped out into the night, shirt over his shoulder, the cool air against his skin. He wasn’t sure what had happened, but it didn’t feel like something he could undo.
And Danny, sitting alone on the couch, watched the door for a long time after it shut, trying to decide what the hell that was, what he’d just let happen, and if he wanted it to happen again.
To get in touch with the author, send them an email.
