The Attic
He’d moved in a week ago. The house was a big Victorian thing, with a basement, two floors, and an attic. It must have been grand in its day, but now it was dilapidated, half empty, and drafty. His landlord was slowly restoring the place, which was why he was not only forced into the barely livable attic, but why the rent was criminally cheap. So what if the floor was bare boards and boxes piled high in the corners? For £250 all in he’d endure a lot worse.
Nineteen and a trainee electrician, it was Jack's first home since moving out. He worked strange hours, his jobs determining his routine. As a result he had barely seen his landlord since his application had been accepted. In his late forties, the man was slender and tall, with ropey muscles and naturally bald. He kept a close trimmed, black beard flecked with grey, and was nearly always in overalls. Building, demolishing, hammering. The house was his project. Jack had forgotten to ask if he was doing it up to flip, or to live in.
He’d come home late that night, the new build having thrown up some complications his supervisor had insisted on solving. It was now pitch black outside, the yellow of the street lights pouring through his attic window. He was wrapped in a towel, taking a rare moment to look in the cracked floor length mirror he’d propped up against the rafters.
His black hair was still slick to his head, and his smooth jaw had the occasional red dot that threatened to become a spot. He’d have to grab more of that cream. But it was his body that concerned him. No matter what he ate, or how much work he put in, he was still skinny. The only thing that marked him out as a man and not a boy was the thick coating of hair that spread from neck to ankle, and the long schlong that hung between his slender thighs.
He loved that word; schlong. One day the class joker had spotted his impressive manhood in the changing rooms after PE class and pointed, “Get a load of that absolute weapon! Schlong central!”
The other lads had laughed as Jack, bright red, had scrambled to cover up.
But after that he’d taken to the word.
He flopped it in his hand, cupped his heavy bollocks, and admired himself. Now, if only he could get laid before the whole virginity thing stuck for good. How many times could he keep lying to his work mates that he was slamming pussy every saturday night before they got suspicious?
The older ones already were, he could tell. They just hadn’t called him out on it. Yet.
Draping the towel over a chair, he turned off the lights and padded over to the bed, when he saw a sliver of light shining through the floor.
Curious, he knelt, and put his eye to it. It was probably just a light directly below a gap, nothing more than a little imperfection in a very imperfect house.
But it wasn’t.
He could see the rectangle of a double bed directly below, pushed up against the same chimney breast his own rested against. The room was bathed in the soft light and warm colours. And in the centre of the bed, his landlord was totally naked. His back was facing the ceiling, his arse thrusting down and up, his hands holding fistfulls of the duvet, the muscles in his back rippling and contracting.
Beneath him was a body, olive skinned and with dark hair, arms outstretched, legs apart, tits bouncing. He felt his schlong thicken, and a grin spread across his face.
“Filthy fucker!” he thought, and reached between his legs to grasp his hardening length.
But then something about the scene was off. He was fucking her deep, hard, but she wasn’t moving, wasn’t making any noise. Her face was…it was…plastic.
Fuck! She wasn’t real. She was one of those silicone dolls!
His cock throbbed in his grip as his hand raced up and down his shaft. The landlord must either be on a hair trigger or had been at it a while, because suddenly he was pounding. His arse lifting high and plunging down. He wondered what the man's tool was like, and half imagined her plastic cunt stretched around him.
The landlord slammed it home, and his whole body, every muscle, went taught, his toes curling. He was unloading. Jack, whose own wank had barely begun, felt himself lose control, and a surge of spunk shot across the floorboards, and he had to steady himself, his breath ragged.
The landlord stayed like that a while, catching his breath, as Jack mirrored him above. Both men spent, both breathing hard, both turned on. But only one of them knew it.
The Toy
The Landlord, it turned out, used her quite regularly. Not every night, but most. Jack would try to get home and watch the show, he’d even found the most comfortable way to lay and watch, how to arrange pillows and sheets so the wooden floor didn’t dig too hard into his hip and elbow. He wasn’t really sure why he was so turned on by the show, especially as the woman wasn’t even real, but for some reason his dick turned to steel and his brain vanished in a fog of excitement and filth.
Tonight the older man had propped her up on all fours, and had his hands behind his back, watching his admittedly good sized dick vanishing into her hole. This was a favourite position of his, Jack had learned. His landlord clearly got off on his own cock fucking plastic as Jack did.
He was busy edging his own schlong, which was heavy with a day's frustration, and dribbling precum onto the now heavily stained floorboard. He half laughed wondering whether there were more of his swimmers in his balls or sunk into that plank.
The landlord was on the home stretch now, his body giving its telltale signs, the low grunting drifting up through the gap in the floor, the sheen of sweat, the ragged thrusts, and then the stiffening. His body went rigid as that mature, white cock flooded her crafted tunnel. Jack came at the same time, his teen load spraying feet across the floor as he watched the man below to pretend to be just that. Pretend to be a man. Couldn’t even find a girl to fuck. Just like him.
As his final squirts of semen pooled on the floor, the idea came back to him. He needed his own toy.
Leaving his spunk to sink into the wood, he clambered onto his bed, and pulled open his laptop. He’d long since found the doll that lived in the landlords wardrobe. Melissa, apparently. And her price was astronomical, at least to him.
But maybe he didn’t need a full doll.
He’d seen it briefly whilst scrolling, his cock rigid in his hand as the other scrolled. After a few minutes, he found it. A perfectly moulded pink plastic pussy. It wasn’t a full body, just thighs, lower torso, and of course, a hairless cunt. And it was only £50, not thousands.
Not caring about his bank balance, he added to his cart, and checked out.
It arrived two days later. The box left in the downstairs hallway, unmarked and unopened.
Jack had grabbed it eagerly, and almost took the stairs two at a time, until he remembered the landlord was likely asleep at this hour.
Once upstairs, he stripped off faster than he had in years, kicking his clothes around the room like a lad who’d been denied a wank for a week, and placed the package on the bed. Opening it, he found the obscene flesh pink obscured by the shine of plastic, and slowly unwrapped her. It was a similar size to his own thighs and lower torso, but where he had a mop of unruly, curled black pubes, she was smooth to the touch. She also smelt of silicone, but he ignored that. Instead, he ran his quivering fingers over the dry plastic of her moulded lips, and pushed inside, feeling ridges and bumps, until he was knuckle deep.
His cock rose, his foreskin sliding back as precum lubed his deep purple head.
He threw the box and plastic across the room, not caring about the noise, and laid her out before him, just like the man downstairs did. Thank god they sent a free sachet of lube because he hadn’t bought any. He ripped it open, and smeared the cold liquid over his burning rod, dragging the remains across her cunt. Shaking, he knelt forward, lining his cock up, the first brush sending tingles up his shaft and into his body. He exhaled deeply, and instinct forced his cock down, sinking inch by inch. He watched, mesmerized as he sank deeper and deeper. His cock was finally, finally stretching out a pussy! Yeah, it was a fake, but who the fuck cared? Bottoming out, his pubes splayed around her lips, and he forced his cock to throb and flex, exploring her insides. His balls were already tight against his body. He knew he wouldn’t last long, but it was his first time. That was normal during a first time, right?
Then, he pulled his hips up, watched amazed as his shiny shaft pulled free, and then slammed down. Gasping, he began to buck. He slid lower on the bed, until his forearms were resting on the bed and his knees were his leverage, cock sliding in and out of his own personal pussy, sweat pooling down his back already.
It felt amazing! This was what the older man downstairs had been plowing for God only knew how long. He fucked harder, the only soundtrack his own ragged breathing, the bed squeaking and rattling, as his male instincts, his long suppressed male instincts, forced him deeper and harder. He humped and fucked and then, his balls were fully agaisnt his body, his cock engorged inside her tunnel, and he grunted. A grunt for each spasm of spunk he dumped inside her. He found himself burying as deep as he could get, like he was mining with his cock, and his eyes slammed shut as sperm rushed from his body into the fake womb beneath him.
Spent, he collapsed onto the toy, breathing hard, skin clammy against the bed. Laying there, his cock still solid and lodged in a sheath filled with his own cum, he felt sleep pulling at him. It had been so intense, and too fucking quick. But he loved it. He had fucking loved it. This toy had taken his virginity, he didn’t care what people thought. It had.
Finally getting up, he placed the now impregnated toy on the floor, and noticed that the man's light had come on. Looking through the floor, he saw the older male was busy humping away. Jack smiled.
Risk
What had started as spying had become ritual. He would place the toy on the floor, insert himself into it, and hump in sequence with the landlord below. They both fucked their cocks and their bought and paid for cunts in perfect sync. Jack had first done it to enhance the experience, to find an even hotter way to enjoy his new found life as a peeping Tom, only to start imitating the man. He’d learned how to roll his hips, rotate his body, angle his cock. How to control (mostly) his rhythm and speed. He could last longer now. He was up to a full ten minutes. Still not the twenty the man below could go, but up from the three of his first time.
But after a few weeks even this became too routine.
One night, whilst balls deep in the plastic pussy, he had an idea. The kind that gripped his entire being, and suddenly he was withdrawing from her pleasing folds, and rising to his feet.
Sneaking downstairs, he hovered by the attic stairs door, and carefully, opened it. He was fully naked, his cock standing straight out, slick with lube and oozing pre. The floor was exposed wood, still waiting for its turn to be restored. The hall, too, was nothing but bare walls stripped of wallpaper. It was a minefield of creaks, squeaks, and echoes. As his foot padded onto the floor, his cock bobbed in involuntary excitement.
Slowly, he crept along the floor, staying perfectly still whenever a creak rang out. Every time he would freeze, his cock would arch with tension, and he felt his heat beat in his balls. But slowly, he got closer to the man’s bedroom door. He could hear the rhythmic slap of skin on silicone now, the occasional deep exhale or inhale, and his hand drifted to his dong.
Once he made it, he crouched beside the door, and looked through the old victorian key hole. He couldn’t see much, just the mans ass and feet, crouched, fucking, but not his cock, and just the legs of the doll shaking limply beneath his landlords ministrations.
Jack fisted his cock hard, only to realise he was dangerously close. The cold air of the landing was forcing his balls inside him, and his exposed hole, thick with dark hair, suddenly felt so vulnerable. He was so so turned on.
The man was grunting, his deep voice translating into even deeper animal noises as his usual polite personality vanished with every thrust into his toy. It was so fucked up, and so hot. Jack just wanted to see, to hear, even to smell if he could.
Then, the sound changed, the rhythm fell apart, and he heard it, clearer than ever. The cum noise. The man filled her up in a mix of grunts, groans, and half caught sighs. He was so much louder down here.
Jack felt his own cum building, and reluctantly, let go of his cock. He couldn’t afford to dump a load against the man’s bedroom door.
Slowly he began to rise, only for the man's footsteps to begin to approach the door.
Panicked, Jack ran on the tips of his toes, cock swinging, precum flying, as he leapt like a ballerina at speed. A wave of light flooded the hallway, just as he dived into the bathroom and shut the door.
Heart hammering, he turned the light on, and sat on the toilet.
The mans footsteps reached the door, and he a gentle rap rang out on the wood. Panicked, yet turned on, Jack grabbed his cock and stroked hard and fast.
“You in there, Jack?”
Jack’s body stretched out, rigid, toes curled.
“Yeah! Just a minute!” he managed, voice quivering, as cum shot from his fat head, flowing down his shaft into his bush.
“Okay,” was the answer, and the man's footsteps vanished down the hall.
Breathing hard, he sat there, crotch and hand sticky with warm cum, and chuckled softly. Almost. He’d almost been caught. And it was amazing!
Upping the Ante
The next week went much the same. Sometimes he’d watch the man, sometimes he’d sneak down, totally naked, and listen by the door. He’d solved the problem of cumming in time with the older man with, what to his mind was an elegant solution. He slid a rubber over his fat cock, and with one hand holding the ring at the base, would wank with the other. Jack loved watching his cock swell in the seams of light that poured around the landlord's bedroom door, and fill the condom with pulse after pulse of his DNA. He’d wear it until he got back to the attic, then admire the load. He’d started taking photos of them so he could measure how productive, how masculine his balls were at churning out spunk. And after some research, and measuring with a tea spoon he’d stolen from the kitchen, had learned he was a fucking cum machine.
He’d also learned his cock, at a little over 7 inches long and 5.5 around, was way, way above average. His skinny frame, once something he’d hated, he now realised made it look even bigger. Arching from his flat torso when soft, and standing straight out, obscenely, when he was hard.
He’d stopped wearing boxers at work, determined to show off his bulge. He walked with a new swagger. No one questioned whether he was a virgin anymore, they just accepted that he was like any young lad. Exaggerating, sure, but getting his end away none the less. They didn’t need to know the pussy he was flooding on the regular was moulded silicone.
One night when he was watching porn, cock sheathed in a new fleshlight he’d bought, he finally decided it was time to do what he’d been aching to do for months. He had to, absolutely had to, get inside Mellisa. Sure, he loved his toys, but she was a full woman. She was less a toy than a representation, a full body. And better yet, he had been inside her. His cock has stretched her out. His cum had filled her up. The idea of his being in that same space, stretching her further, pushing deeper, was too much, and he let the pulses overtake him, and watched through the clear material as a surge of white liquid filled the tunnel around his head. He needed a plan.
The problem with Kenny, his landlord, was that he was always in the house. Demolishing, building, and restoring. Sometimes builders, plumbers and electricians would join him, and deliveries were a constant, but he rarely left. So for the next week whenever they crossed paths he made an effort to talk, be friendly.
At first Kenny seemed a little surprised, perplexed even, at the sudden shift in Jack’s behavior, but soon they settled into a routine. They’d share tea and coffee in the morning, chat about their days, plans for the week. Jack had to admit he enjoyed the man’s company. He was still something of a mystery. He had no idea if he’d been married in the past, had kids, or what his old job had been before he became a flipper, which he now knew was his main source of income, but he appreciated the man's private attitude. Jack was similar, despite his spying and creeping around the house.
When they’d sit and chat, or run into each other in the hallway, he’d find himself remembering the man’s cock. Pale, shaved free of pubes, a pink head that would vanish and reappear with the roll of his foreskin or the grip of plastic lips. He’d get hard those times, and would have to grab his shaft through his jeans pocket, and angle it against his hip.
But eventually he found out that Kenny would be going to a reclamation yard a few miles away that next day. He was after some mouldings or something. Jack was off work that day, and when he’d googled the distance he learned he’d have an hour. A whole hour!
He was antsy the whole morning before Kenny left. He’d forced himself to stay in the kitchen so he didn’t blow his load in the attic inside his toys, or worse, the utterly drenched floorboard.
But eventually Kenny left, and after waiting five minutes to ensure the man didn’t come back, Jack raced up stairs like a kid looking for his Christmas presents in his parents room.
Kenny’s room was different from this angle. It was basic, but clean. Two wardrobes stood side by side opposite the bed, a mirror on one. They were out of his line of sight upstairs. The bed was flanked by two small sets of drawers, one topped with a lamp, the other with bottles. Lube. All of them. Some empty, some full, all different brands and types.
His cock lurched to life.
Quick as he could be, he went to the wardrobes, and found her right away.
Her fixed stare and ebony hair greeted him, and he grabbed her with all the gentleness of a man banging a whore down an alley. He didn’t have time to take his time. She was heavier than he expected, but soon she was arranged on the bed, legs spread and cunt glistening with a hint of lube. Chest already heaving with excitement, he shucked his trousers to his ankles, and knelt on the bed, getting between her angled legs, and positioned his now solid prick at her entrance. He cupped her breasts. They were jiggly, and heavy. They were fun, but didn’t really hold his interest.
Neither did her face, which he realised, he could fuck. Her mouth yet another hole built for his manhood, but one he had never seen Kenny penetrate.
He grabbed the nearest lube, coated his schlong, and dove in in one swift motion until his balls were trapped between her taint and his. He groaned, loudly, as her cool flesh enveloped him. She was wet inside. Was this how a real cunt felt?
He began to gyrate, grabbing her legs and wrapping them around his waist. He mimicked Kenny, fucking her missionary style, like every man who had ever fucked. He pounded her, then slowed, ground and rotated, then fucked deep. She gripped his cock, her cool feel giving way to the heat he was pouring into her.
The doll squelched now and then, the sound of his cock moving lube around, and then he realised. It wasn’t lube that was making the noise, it was cum. Kenny’s cum! He must have dumped a load in her this morning!
That was too much for Jack, and he felt his cock tense, then expand, as his jizz pumped into her. One, two, three. Over and over until he was certain she’d be overflowing.
Done, and aware of his limited time, he pulled his jeans up, and admired his work. He was leaking alright. So much so he’d only just managed to catch their combined loads from dripping onto the duvet cover.
He wiped the cum on his leg, then whilst thinking about how best to clean her up, heard the familiar sounds of Kenny’s van pulling into the drive. Pleased with himself, but also a little panicked, he bundled her into the wardrobe, and made the bed. Then, vanished into his attic room.
It wasn’t until that night, when he was watching Kenny plow her as usual, that he realized his cum was still inside her. And now, it was all over his cock. For once, Jack came first.
Disruption
He didn’t get another chance with Mellisa. The building work intensified, and Kenny hired help to work on the first floor. The hallway he liked to sneak around in became full of equipment, tools, dust, and fragments of rubble. His nights sneaking around became uncomfortable, and eventually he was forced to give up on them entirely. Stuck with just his original spy hole, he still had fun, but it wasn’t the same. He resorted to expanding his collection, and after some extensive searches found a clear blow up doll to fuck. He loved watching his cock inside it, fucking and impregnating. He’d even filmed it, watching himself fuck and cumming to the videos. He was debating posting them online, having found plenty of men like himself who he knew would enjoy it. The idea of them watching him give into his manliness, admiring his big cock, his tight arse cheeks, the way his hole winked when he came, had fuelled more than a few wanks at work. But he hadn’t quite got the courage to do it yet.
Then, one day, he was in the attic, sorting through his washing pile, when a knock echoed out and the door opened. Jack was a little unsettled. Kenny never came up here. But here he was, walking up the steps, a polite smile on his dust smeared face.
“Hey, lad. Sorry to interrupt. You got a minute?”
Jack, a little nervous, nodded, his eyes darting to bed where the plastic pussy sat half hidden under a towel.
“Some bad news, I’m afraid. We need to re-do the electrics on the first floor, and the easiest way to get to them is to go under the floor in here. And if we’re going to do that, we may as well re-do the insulation at the same time.”
Jack froze.
“Are you kicking me out?”
Kenny went red, then shook his head and hands, smiling.
“No, no! Nothing like that. I just need you to move into the spare room for a bit. It’s ready, well, kind of, and you can stay in there for a week and I’ll knock £50 off your rent this month.”
Jack knew which room he meant. It was the only room besides Kenny's that was even vaguely finished. Plastered walls and exposed wooden floors, but clean and ready for paint and furniture. It was also the box room, and right beside Kennys.
It was going to be a pain in the arse, but it was unavoidable. And then he realised. He was going to lose his spy hole. The insulation, the floor being pulled up, it was going to vanish.
He felt suddenly pissed.
“Okay,” he said, a little gruffly.
“Sorry, mate. I know its annoying.”
“It can’t be helped,” Jack said, folding his things.
But Kenny didn’t move. Jack looked up, and to his horror, the landlord's eyes were fixed on the plastic pussy. He froze, unsure what to do. Kenny turned, a thing, knowing smile on his lips, and then gave him a curt nod.
“If you can move your stuff downstairs by tomorrow afternoon that would be great.”
Alone again, Jack wondered what Kenny was thinking. Did he approve? Did he suspect? Was he turned on? He didn’t know, but he found it took the edge of losing his little voyeur routine for good.
The room was small, and even with the few things he owned, cluttered. Jack lay there, naked, hand softly playing with his semi, wondering how he enjoyed himself before the attic discovery. Ever since moving in, his sex life had gone from his hand to so much more, but now he was confined again. His toys were under his bed, sure, but the live show, his little participation, was gone. His cock flexed half heartedly in agreement.
Then, in the dark, he heard it. Thud. Thud. Thud. Jack, suddenly excited, put his ear to the wall and listened. The bed was hitting the wall. Kenny was fucking Mellisa!
Cock at full mast, he moved fast, pulling his own plastic pussy from its box, and laid it on the bed. Carefully, he inserted his freshly lubed schlong into her, and began to rock, ears attuned to the increasing noise. He fucked slowly, careful that his own sounds not drown out Kennys. Moans and sighs, and then, to his surprise, verbalisations he couldn’t make out, seeped through the brick, and Jack’s cock ached. He slammed down as Kenny got louder. As the landlord let loose, so did Jack, watching in the gloom as his tool vanished over and over in a blur of movement, his breath loud. Then suddenly he realised the noise had stopped, but there wasn’t silence. Instead, his own fucking was slamming his little single frame bed into the wall.
“Fuck!” he whispered, and forced himself to be still.
Had he heard? He must have? Fuck!
Then, the sounds of thrusting started up again, and the groans and grunts, now mixed with laughter and more incomprehensible muttering, drifted through the wall.
Was he performing? Was this permission? Cautious but hard as hell, he began to fuck again. His bed hitting the wall, until both of them were pistoning like rabbits, beds slamming, grunts and groans loud and getting louder, showing off. Jack felt his balls empty, and let out a long, guttural sigh as his cock, now bigger and harder than he had ever felt it, sent jets of spunk into the fake cunt beneath him until it poured past the sides and down onto his bed.
Next door, he heard a similar series of grunts, the slow slam of a headboard, and then, to his surprise, low laughter. Not just laughter, but full on belly laughter. Laughter than Jack couldn’t help but join in with. This was going to be fun.
Doubled Up
They fucked like that for the next few nights. Kenny started it, but they would both finish together. Their grunts and groans became loud, the slam of beds exaggerated, until one night the sound was even louder. It took Jack a while to realise why. Reluctantly he broke free of his toy, and wandered to his door. The sound was louder here. Opening it, he saw the flood of light from Kenny’s room. He’d left his door open!
More turned on than ever, Jack returned to his room, his door now wide open too, and fucked. They could hear each other clearly now, and for the first time Jack could hear what Kenny was saying.
“Taking my big daddy dick, baby. Fucking milk it!”
Jack groaned.
A smug laugh answered, and the fucking intensified.
“You like an audience don’t you, baby? Someone witnessing my big fat cock stretching you out? Yeah you fucking do!”
Jack had to stop and tense his whole body to stop his load, which was already half way up his cock, from exploding into his toy. It just, just worked. The whole time his voice and breathing were loud, struggling, and quivering in bursts.
“You hear that, baby? He loves it when I fuck you.”
That was it, without moving an inch, his cock flexed, and unleashed a load so big he exhaled all the way through it, body shaking and jolting.
“Fuuuuck!” he heard from the hall, and then the piston slam of bed on the wall, as Kenny came to him cumming. It was enough for Jack to feel another pulse of cum leave him.
Sweaty and panting, he trod to the door, cock slimy and deflating. He could see from the shadow that Kenny was right at the door too, they stood a mere footstep apart, silhouetted, cocks swinging between their legs, breathing clear as if they were standing side by side.
Then, Kenny moved, and the door closed, a low chuckle acting as his goodnight.
The building work became intense, and the whole floor was drenched in dust. Their night time ritual remained something they did not speak of by day, only ever acknowledged at night when doors would stay open, and cocks would invade plastic. He had even started some shadow play, fucking his toys in the door frame whilst Kenny watched and commented about “the neighbour” to Melissa.
Then one day, the builders drinking tea in the kitchen, Kenny had approached him.
“Hey, so I know this is a right pain but, we need to do more work in your room.”
“I thought it was finished?”
“So did I. But it's an old house, things keep popping up.”
“So where am I going this time?” he asked, frustration showing.
“Well, it’s only for a couple of nights so I can set up a camping bed in my room.”
Kenny’s expression didn’t change, but something passed between them. Some charge, and Jack felt a rush of excitement in his chest, and a grin spread across his freshly shaved face.
When night came, Jack was nervous. They were in Kenny’s room, now stuffed to bursting with both of their things and a camp bed. Kenny was in just a pair of briefs, with Jack in just a pair of boxers. Both were sitting on their respective beds, scrolling their phones. Only Jack was sporting a boner he was half hiding with his propped up knees.
Every so often their eyes would meet, and that charge would spark, and Jack’s cock would jump. Then, after the tenth time, he saw it. The thick growth of Kenny’s cock snaking down his leg. Without looking at Jack, he let his legs spread, and his uncut cock slipped free, and he could finally see it. It was a little less thick than his, the head more pink-red than Jack’s purple, but veined with the same blue veins, and already shiny with precum.
He looked so long that he didn’t notice Kenny staring at him, a wicked grin dominating his features.
“Time for bed?” he asked.
Jack felt his heart sink a little. Was this it? All this teasing and routine only to go to sleep?
He nodded, rearranging his now frustrated junk, only for Kenny to stand up and drop his briefs. Before Jack could respond, the man was pulling Melissa from the wardrobe and positioning her missionary style in the bed.
He turned, smirking, and raised an eyebrow.
“Well?”
Not needing to be asked twice, he threw his own boxers across the room, letting his big cock spring free, enjoying Kenny’s gaze fix and then linger on it.
“You’re a big lad,” he said.
He flushed, not with embarrassment but with pride, and made his cock jump.
“Come on then, get yours out too.”
Jack placed his pussy toy beside Melissa, cunts side-by-side. Then, they faced each other. Jack was a little taller, a little more hung, and definitely hairier, but Kenny was taught with muscle, his ass higher and rounder, his grin agelessly cheeky. Their cock, both sizeable, bobbed between them.
“Lets fuck!” Kenny said, then mounted the bed, and grabbed a bottle of lube.
Kenny slicked his dong, lathering it then twisting it, making a show of it.
Then, as Jack was distracted by the scene, he exhaled sharply as the man’s calloused fingers wrapped around his shaft and spread the lube up and down, his foreskin rolling over his head as the warm sticky liquid coated everything down to his pubes.
“Can’t fuck dry, mate,” Kenny said, smiling as his hand worked Jacks pole with expert strokes.
Jack almost lost his load there and then, but the older man, perhaps sensing it, released him and turned to face his doll.
Grinning, he lowered into her, his ass cheeks dimpling as he bottomed out, mouth hanging open as the sensation took over. Jack, overwhelmed, went onto autopilot and did the same. Kenny watched with interest, biting his bottom lip as the teenager's cock stretched out the plastic.
“Race?” Kenny asked.
Jack, aware of his sudden hair trigger, shook his head.
“Ah, too close? Okay. First to cum loses.”
Jack nodded.
“Loser has to eat out the others load,” Kenny said, and began to fuck.
Jack pulled his legs up closer so he could leverage his cock, and more importantly, rose on to his hands so he could watch Kenny, who was facing him, eyes fixed on his bigger cock. They fucked and thrusted, Kenny grinding and pistoning, Jack imitating him, following his movements, like some kind of flattery.
Kenny grinned.
“Fuck she feels so good, lad. Proper milking me tonight. Urgh!”
Jack slowed down, his cum threatening to spill out.
“Oh you like it when I do that, do you?” the older man smirked.
Jack flushed, but nodded. Kenny, nodded back, then reached out and slapped his hairy ass cheek.
“Go on stud, show me what you’ve got.”
Jack, forgetting the race, eyes fixed on Kenny’s, felt his pace quicken. The ridges of his toy massaged his cock, as sweat dripped from his forehead, his arse jiggling with every thrust, his arms aching with the effort.
Kenny was mirroring him now, moving like a dog in heat, fucking and thrusting and grinding and all of it so fast the room was full of nothing but the slap of skin, the squish of lube, the heavy breathing and grunts of two men.
“Fuck yeah, boy! Breed that cunt!” Kenny said, quietly, his face scrunched up in restrained intensity.
That was it, he lost it. He groaned, his body stretching out, his neck muscles tensing, and his eyes wide, locked on Kenny, as white hot nut sprayed from his piss slit into the plastic pussy. He came again and again, and half way through reached out and grabbed hold of Kenny’s arse. As he did, he felt the man tense, and then the muscles flex and unflex, as he came too. Side by side they filled up their toys, unleashing their cocks, their loads, until both collapsed in a pile.
Spent, cock still lodged in Melissa, his landlord, wiped his brow of sweat.
“Fuck kid, that was hot.”
Jack smiled.
“You know, I’ve got some friends who are into the same stuff, if you fancy tagging along some time?”
Cock slowly defaulting, his cum now pouring out of the toy, Jack nodded.
“I’d be up for it.”
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