Sunday – Open House
Jack woke up late on Sunday afternoon, still sticky and sore from the previous days.
The house was completely silent. His parents wouldn’t be back for several more days. The living room and his bedroom still reeked of sex---dried cum, piss, sweat, and the heavy musk of eight working men. Jack lay in bed for a long time, gently fingering his swollen, puffy hole, feeling the remnants of multiple loads still inside him.
He was supposed to rest today.
Instead, something darker took over.
Around 3 PM, still naked and leaking, Jack opened Sniffies. His profile picture was innocent---just his sweet face and big blue eyes. In his bio he wrote simply:
**“19, blond, smooth, submissive. Parents away. Open house, door unlocked. Come keep me company.”**
He posted a few pictures: one of his thick cock, one of his pretty ass, and one of his angelic face.
Within minutes the messages flooded in.
Jack replied to the filthiest ones.
---
The first visitor arrived just after 7 PM.
The Truck Driver
A massive, hairy 48-year-old man named Hank who had been on the road for nine straight days. A thick gold wedding ring glinted on his left hand as he stepped into Jack’s bedroom. The stench hit like a physical wall: old sweat, stale piss, unwashed balls, and ass, all baked into his skin after nearly a week and a half without a proper shower. His gut hung heavily over his belt, his beard was unkempt and greasy, and his hands were filthy with road dirt.
Jack was already on his knees waiting in the middle of the room, big blue puppy-dog eyes looking up with soft, innocent wonder.
“Fuckin’ hell,” Hank growled, unzipping his jeans. His cock was thick, uncut, and rank. Jack whimpered softly as he took the filthy head into his mouth, tongue swirling around the pungent buildup. Hank grabbed the back of his head with one meaty hand and forced his cock deeper, balls slapping heavily against Jack’s chin. “That’s it, you little whore… suck it. My wife would kill me if she knew I was feeding this dirty dick to a boy like you.”
He face-fucked Jack brutally, hips snapping forward, making the blond gag and drool while he kept the boy’s nose buried in his sweaty, hairy crotch. The overwhelming musk of nine days on the road filled Jack’s lungs with every breath. Hank’s wedding ring dug into Jack’s scalp as he held him in place, grunting filth about how he was supposed to be driving home to his family but couldn’t resist the urge to stop when he saw Jack’s profile.
After several minutes of brutal throat-fucking, Hank pulled out, turned around, and dropped his jeans and underwear to his ankles. He flopped onto the bed on his back, lifted his legs high into the air, and yanked Jack forward by the hair, forcing the boy’s face between his massive, hairy asscheeks. “Eat it, boy. Clean my dirty ass.” Jack moaned sweetly and buried his tongue deep into the trucker’s sweaty, unwashed crack, licking and sucking at the rank, musky hole while Hank ground back against his face, grunting in satisfaction.
Hank finally stood up, spun Jack around, and shoved him face-down onto the floor. He sat on the edge of the bed, legs spread wide. “On your knees. Boots first.” Jack obediently knelt and pulled off the trucker’s heavy, road-worn work boots, releasing a putrid stench cloud that immediately filled the room. Hank shoved one massive, socked foot into Jack’s face. “Now the socks.” Jack peeled the sweat-soaked socks off Hank’s huge feet, the fabric stiff and crusty, with a stink pouring off them that could peel the paint from a shithouse door. Hank immediately pressed both bare feet against Jack’s face, making the boy lick every inch---soles, arches, heels, and between each sweaty toe---while the trucker stroked his thick cock and watched with dark satisfaction.
Only after Jack had thoroughly cleaned both feet with his tongue did Hank yank him up, bend him over the bed, and slam his thick cock into the boy’s sore hole raw. He fucked like an animal---hard, sweaty, grunting---slapping Jack’s ass bright red while calling him a “greedy little road whore” and a “cum-hungry slut.” The wet, filthy sounds of his heavy balls slapping against Jack’s filled the room. “Ohh…ohh…oh yeah…harder…” the blond boy moaned.
Hank suddenly pulled out, spun Jack around, and shoved his cock straight back down the boy’s throat. “Taste your own ass on my dick, boy.” Jack moaned around the rank length, eyes watering but still soft and eager as he sucked his own juices off the trucker’s cock. Hank then flipped him onto his back, hooked Jack’s legs over his shoulders, and railed him missionary so he could stare down at the innocent face beneath him. “Look at those pretty eyes while I breed you,” he growled, pounding deep. He unloaded an enormous, thick, yellowish load deep inside Jack, roaring as he came. But he didn’t stop---he kept thrusting through his orgasm, pushing the massive load even deeper, using it as lube for another few minutes of savage fucking before finally pulling out.
Hank stood there for a second, breathing hard, staring at the cum pouring from Jack’s wrecked hole. Then, without another word, he zipped up and left, slamming the door behind him.
Jack stayed on the bed, hole leaking heavily, body trembling, already craving more.
---
The second visitor arrived around 9:30 PM. As he scurried to answer the door, Jack muttered to himself, “If this keeps up I might actually get some cardio today.”
The Auto Mechanic
A lanky 22-year-old named Dylan who had come straight from the shop. He was still wearing his oil-stained blue coveralls, the fabric dark with grease and old sweat. The sharp, chemical reek of petroleum and motor oil rolled off him in thick waves as he stepped inside, mixing with the heavy scent of cum already hanging in the air.
Jack was still on his knees in the middle of the room, cum from Hank still dripping down his creamy thighs.
Dylan’s eyes widened, a slow grin spreading across his face. “Holy shit… you really meant it.” He didn’t even bother closing the door all the way. He unzipped his coveralls with one greasy hand, revealing a lean, wiry body and a long, veiny cock already rock-hard and twitching. “Wait… I know you. You bring your dad’s truck in for oil changes sometimes. Always so quiet and polite… looking like a fucking angel. Never would’ve guessed you were secretly such a nasty little cum-slut.”
Jack blushed sweetly, big blue puppy-dog eyes looking up with soft wonder as the strong smell of grease and sweat washed over him.
“You remember me?” He was flattered at the thought.
Dylan stepped closer, grabbing Jack’s head and shoving his cock straight down the boy’s throat in one smooth motion. Jack gagged happily, eyes watering as Dylan fucked his face with short, eager thrusts, the oil on his hands smearing across Jack’s buzzed blond hair. “Fuck, you’re even prettier up close,” Dylan groaned, hips snapping forward. “All those times I jerked off in the bathroom after you left the shop… and now here you are, throat full of my dirty dick.”
He face-fucked Jack for several long minutes, then suddenly pulled out, spun the boy around, and bent him over the bed. He slid into Jack’s already sloppy hole in one quick thrust, groaning at the wet, cum-filled heat. “Goddamn… you’re already so full.” Dylan fucked him hard and fast, the sharp chemical smell of petroleum mixing with the heavy scent of the loads already inside Jack. He reached around and jerked Jack’s thick cock while he railed him, talking dirty the whole time about how he used to fantasize about bending the “sweet, innocent” boy over the hood of a car.
They took a brief break when Dylan pulled out and flipped Jack onto his back. For a moment they just stared at each other---Dylan’s lean, grease-streaked body hovering over Jack’s smooth, cum-glazed one. Then Dylan leaned down and kissed him softly, almost tenderly, their tongues sliding together as Jack wrapped his arms around the mechanic’s neck. “You really are so beautiful,” Dylan whispered against his lips. “Too fucking beautiful to be this filthy.”
The tenderness didn’t last long.
Dylan climbed onto the bed and pulled Jack into a sixty-nine, mechanic on top, his oil-stained body pressing Jack down into the mattress. They sucked each other greedily---Dylan’s long cock sliding deep into Jack’s throat while Jack eagerly devoured the mechanic’s sweaty balls and shaft. They rolled onto their sides, still locked in the sixty-nine, bodies pressed tight as they moaned into each other.
Jack came first, shooting thick ropes across Dylan’s face and in his mouth while the mechanic kept sucking him through it. Dylan groaned around Jack’s cock as he savored the taste of the angelic blond's cum, then pulled off and painted the boy’s face with his own hot load.
But Dylan still wasn’t finished. He pushed Jack onto his back, straddled his chest, and aimed his cock at the blond’s face. A strong, golden stream of piss splashed across Jack’s pretty features, filling his open mouth and running down his neck and chest. Jack moaned softly, swallowing what he could while the rest soaked him.
Finally Dylan climbed higher, turned around, and slowly sat down on Jack’s still-hard cock. He rode the boy reverse-cowgirl, grinding and bouncing while Jack whimpered beneath him, hands gripping the mechanic’s lean hips. Dylan reached back and spread his own ass so Jack could watch his cock disappearing inside him, then leaned forward and took Jack’s cock even deeper.
When Dylan was ready to cum he climbed off Jack's cock, straddled his chest, took the blond boy's head in his hand, and fired jet after jet between his thick pink lips. For several moments he stared mesmerized as Jack savored his huge load, then he wiped his spent dick across Jack’s lips, leaned down for one last filthy kiss, and stood up to zip his coveralls.
“See you around the shop, angel,” he whispered with a smile, and left Jack leaking and smiling wistfully on the bed.
Before long he was craving the next visitor.
---
While he waited for the next Sniffies ping, Jack lay back and scrolled TikTok, chuckling loudly at videos of people completely failing at simple tasks---he found one with college students attempting a TikTok dance and tripping over each other particularly hilarious.
His third visitor finally arrived just after midnight.
Coach Harlan
Jack’s old high school gym teacher. 44 years old, still muscular and powerfully built, with a thick, hairy chest and a deep, commanding voice. He had coached Jack for three years and had no idea the sweet, quiet boy he remembered had grown into this.
When Jack opened the door naked, covered in dried cum, with a freshly fucked hole still leaking down his creamy thighs, Coach Harlan’s eyes widened in pure shock.
“Jesus Christ… Jack Thompson?”
Jack blushed sweetly, big blue puppy-dog eyes looking up with soft innocence. “Hi Coach.”
The coach tried to leave twice. He turned around on the porch the first time, muttering “This is wrong,” under his breath. He made it halfway down the walkway the second time before he stopped, shoulders tense, fists clenched at his sides. Both times he failed. Something stronger than guilt pulled him back.
Once inside, the years of repressed lust came pouring out like a dam breaking.
Coach Harlan grabbed Jack by the waist and threw him over the back of the couch, yanking those smooth legs apart. He dropped to his knees and buried his face between Jack’s cheeks, eating his ass like a starving man. His thick tongue pushed deep into the mix of previous loads, lapping and sucking greedily while he groaned loudly. “Fuck… I used to jerk off in the locker room showers thinking about you, kid. Every single practice. You have no idea how many times I imagined this tight little hole.”
Jack whimpered sweetly, pushing back against the coach’s hungry mouth, his big blue eyes half-lidded in pleasure.
Coach Harlan stood up, cock rock-hard and throbbing, and slammed into Jack with one powerful, athletic thrust. He fucked the boy with long, brutal strokes, hips snapping forward hard enough to make the couch creak. “That’s it, my star pupil,” he growled, voice deep and rough. “Take Coach’s cock. This is the best fucking ass I’ve ever had.” He slapped Jack’s cheeks red, gripping the soft flesh hard while he railed him senseless.
Midway through the pounding, Coach Harlan reached into his gym bag and pulled out a well-worn jockstrap---stiff, yellowed, and covered in hundreds of blotchy, dried cumstains from years of use. He grabbed Jack by the back of the head and shoved the filthy cumrag right into the boy’s face. “Smell that, kid. I keep this in my office and unload into it after every game while I sit there breathing in the sweaty stink still lingering in the locker room. That’s how much I’ve been thinking about you.”
Jack huffed the rank, crusty jockstrap deeply, eyes rolling back as the heavy, stale scent of old cum and locker-room sweat filled his lungs. He came instantly without touching himself, thick ropes shooting across his own chest and stomach while he moaned into the filthy fabric.
Coach Harlan scooped up some of Jack’s fresh cum with two fingers and smeared it onto the already-stained jockstrap, then licked his spermy fingers clean with a filthy groan. “Good boy.”
He made Jack ride him next, gripping the boy’s narrow hips and slamming him down onto his thick cock over and over. Jack moaned sweetly the whole time, rolling his hips like a pro, his massive cock bouncing between them. Coach Harlan then bent him over the couch again, pounding him from behind while making Jack reach back and spread his own asscheeks wider.
After flooding Jack’s guts with one of the biggest, thickest loads of the night, Coach Harlan pulled out, shoved his cum-covered cock straight down the boy’s throat, and made him taste the filthy mess he’d left behind.
“Clean it up, slut. Taste what Coach just pumped into you.” He face-fucked Jack until he was gagging and drooling, then bent him over once more and bred him a second time, even harder than the first, calling him every filthy name he could think of while slapping his ass bright red.
By the time Coach Harlan finally stumbled out the door, Jack’s hole was leaking yet another heavy load and his cheeks were bright red and stinging from the spanking. The coach looked back one last time, face flushed with shame and satisfaction, before disappearing into the night.
---
The final visitor arrived at 2:17 AM.
Uncle Greg
Jack’s mother’s younger brother, 41 years old, married, two kids. He had seen his nephew's profile on Sniffies and had to see for himself if it were true.
When Jack opened the door naked, covered in dried cum, with a freshly fucked hole still leaking down his creamy thighs, Greg’s mouth dropped open.
“Jack… so it's true?" he gasped, barely able to contain his excitement.
Jack looked up at his uncle with those big blue eyes, voice soft and trembling. “I’ve been bad, Uncle Greg… Really bad.”
Greg tried to leave. He made it as far as the porch before he turned around, stepped back inside, and slammed the door so hard the frame rattled.
What followed was the most intense encounter of the night.
Greg grabbed Jack by the back of the neck and dragged him straight to his father's bedroom, practically throwing the smaller boy onto the king-sized bed. Rage, shame, and overwhelming lust warred across his face as he stripped off his clothes. His wedding ring flashed in the low light as he climbed on top of his nephew.
“You little fucking slut,” Greg snarled, voice shaking. “Your own uncle? You'd fuck your own uncle? After everything your parents have done for you?” He shoved Jack’s legs apart and slammed into him raw in one brutal thrust. Thick globs of the previous visitors’ cum immediately squirted out around his cock and ran down Jack’s creamy thighs in messy streams. “Look at this wrecked hole… you’ve been taking load after load all night, haven’t you?”
Jack whimpered sweetly, big blue eyes wide and innocent even as his uncle pounded him mercilessly. “I’m sorry, Uncle Greg… I couldn’t help it…”
Greg fucked him like he was punishing him, hips snapping forward with angry, powerful strokes. The bed creaked violently beneath them. He called Jack every filthy name he could think of---“whore,” “cumdump,” “family cockslut”---while gripping the boy’s narrow hips hard enough to leave marks. Every deep thrust forced more of the earlier loads to squirt obscenely out of Jack’s stretched hole.
As the brutal fucking continued, Greg pulled out suddenly, scooped up a thick handful of the mixed cum leaking from Jack’s gaping hole, and used it as the only lube. He pressed three fingers into the boy, then four, then slowly worked his entire fist inside Jack’s wrecked ass. Jack cried out, body shaking, as his uncle’s thick hand sank deeper, fisting him with slow, punishing strokes while using only the sperm already inside him as slick.
Greg leaned down close, voice low and cruel. “You look so much like my own son… same age, same pretty face, same hot little body. Except his sweet ass is still tight because he doesn’t whore it out like you do.”
After several long minutes of fisting, Greg pulled his hand free with a wet pop and slammed his cock back inside, using the loosened, cum-filled hole even harder. After several minutes of brutal fucking, Greg flipped them over so Jack was riding him. “Ride it, you little whore. Show your uncle how well you’ve been trained.” Jack obeyed instantly, rolling his hips and bouncing on his uncle’s thick cock with eager, practiced movements. Greg’s wedding ring dug into Jack’s soft skin as he gripped the boy’s waist, forcing him down harder.
Then Greg pulled Jack forward and made him sit on his face. Jack lowered his cum-leaking hole onto his uncle’s mouth, moaning softly as Greg ate him out with savage hunger, tongue pushing deep to taste the mix of strangers’ loads still inside his nephew. Jack ground down, whimpering sweetly while Greg devoured him.
Finally Greg flipped Jack onto his back again, hooked the boy’s legs over his shoulders, and kissed him like a forbidden lover---deep, desperate, and hungry. Their tongues slid together as Greg bred him with long, powerful strokes. “You’re going to take every drop of your uncle’s cum,” he growled against Jack’s mouth. He came hard the first time, flooding Jack’s guts with thick, hot ropes while they kissed.
But Greg wasn’t done. He kept fucking through his orgasm, using the fresh load as extra lube, pounding Jack even harder until he unloaded a second massive load deep inside his nephew’s womb.
When Greg finally pulled out, a heavy flood of cum poured from Jack’s gaping hole onto the sheets. Greg stared down at the mess he’d made, chest heaving, face flushed with shame and satisfaction. Then he leaned down, buried his face between Jack’s spread cheeks, and felched his own thick sperm out of his nephew’s raw, wrecked ass. He gathered the creamy load in his mouth, moved up, and pressed his lips hard against Jack’s. They kissed deeply, passing the warm, sticky cum back and forth between their tongues in long, filthy strings until both their mouths were coated and it dripped down their chins.
“You've always been my favorite nephew.”
---
The open house lasted until dawn.
By the time the sun came up, Jack was lying in the middle of his destroyed bed---a complete wreck. His hole was a gaping, cum-flooded ruin. His face, chest, and stomach were glazed with layer after layer of dried and fresh sperm. The entire house smelled like a brothel.
Jack stared at the ceiling, gently rubbing his belly, feeling the weight of all the loads inside him.
He smiled softly to himself.
“…Best Sunday ever.”
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