Trad Dad Brad

A disclaimer from the author: This story is a work of fiction, and is intended to be read for entertainment purposes only. It is not designed to be instructional, nor aspirational, and contains themes that some readers might find difficult to read about, including: age-gap relationships, dad/son roleplay, sexual servitude, dominance, submission, and humiliation. Any resemblance to real persons and events is purely coincidental. Please consider your tastes/comfort levels and show discretion before reading, voting, or commenting on this work.

Positive and/or constructive comments are always appreciated at: [email protected]

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This is the first installment in an anthology series about different older men named Brad who are sexually submissive. If this idea interests you and/or if you enjoy this story, let me know and share your ideas of what you would like to see in future installments.

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Trad Dad Brad I: Bradford Meadows, The CEO

I.

When the door to the sub-penthouse apartment swung open, Chad audibly gasped. He knew going in that Bradford Meadows was going to be attractive. He had seen the smiling, bare-chested photos and no amount of AI or professional level photoshop could pretty up an ugly duckling that good. He just hadn’t expected him to look exactly like those drool worthy photos. Exactly. He should have known better, because Mr. Meadows had shown himself to be a total straight shooter from day one.

Standing over the shorter and younger Chad by several inches, Brad seemed to almost lord over the space he inhabited. His hair, all of it gray and rapidly dipping into full whiteness, was carefully and artfully groomed giving him an almost effortless look of masculine professionalism. Then there were those muscles, god the muscles. He was ripped, the kind you only get from a dedicated daily gym routine, and he wore the abs and pecs and biceps as easily as he was wearing the slim chain around his neck.

If Brad Meadows was surprised or put off by Chad’s wide-eyed, ogling display, he didn’t show it. He simply smiled, two perfect rows of gleaming white teeth, before leaning a toned arm against the frame as he addressed the baffled young man standing in his doorway.

“Chad Bowers, correct?” he asked, confirming what he already knew. His rich baritone voice rumbled over Chad like a masculine caress. “Did you have any problems finding the place?” Chad quickly shook his head, his darker locks swinging back and forth over his eyes.

“No, sir. Not at all.”

Technically that wasn’t true and was even bordering on an outright lie. He had circled the expensive looking building multiple times, intimidated by the way it’s expensive architecture effortlessly clawed at the skyline, and not trusting that his GPS was actually telling the truth, before he finally parking a couple blocks over and walked through the front door. The doorman, well dressed but tired looking, had nodded to him and mumbled a canned salutation, and Chad had chirped back a friendly greeting, never feeling more like an impostor ever in his life.

At the front desk, a concierge, harried yet pretty, eyeballed him as if he was something she had stepped on and accidentally dragged inside off the street. When he told her the name Bradford Meadows, she raised an eyebrow, an inscrutable look passing over her tastefully painted face before her well-practiced professionalism kicked in and she rang upstairs to confirm what she already suspected to be true. She watched Chad walk toward the elevator, hoping he couldn’t see the smirk on her face. Let’s see how long this one lasts.

The entire ride up the elevator, which the building staff had let him ride alone (thank god), Chad had stared at his distorted short and tan reflection in the gleaming metal box, wondering just what the hell he was doing. He didn’t meet up with strangers off the apps. Especially ones with the eccentric tastes of Brad Meadows.

I’m a sexual submissive.

I believe in traditional relationships.

I’m looking for that one perfect forever man to call my own.

Brad stepped aside, letting the young man enter his private domain, his eyes kind and his arms strong. He was paler in skin and eyes than Chad, but looked more like an aged Heracles ready to wrestle the Nemean Lion.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Brad told him, letting the open ended and polite statement hang in the air.

Brad was already dressed down. Small, tight gym shorts, clean cool and crisp. A thin tee that looked like it was sculpted for his frame. Little else, not even shoes or socks. Blushing, Chad slipped out of his Payless brown loafers, his Sunday shoes, bending down to set them neatly next to the front door. He missed the slightly bemused expression Brad had on his face.

“Don’t worry about offending me,” Brad said, enunciating clearly with each word. “My home is your home.”

That last sentence sent a shiver up Chad’s spine, a subtle detail that did not go unnoticed by Brad. The older man was staring at him, but not unkindly. It was more as if he was taking stock of this scared looking boy in his baggy jeans and jersey who had wandered into his house of sin. Smiling again, Brad gestured towards a far room.

“Dinner is almost ready. I hope you came hungry,” he said, waiting only a polite moment before turning and walking toward where his open palm had pointed, his bare feet leaving a moment’s mark on the floor with each step that evaporated almost instantly.

Chad sniffed instinctively, catching a hint of meat and something fragrant he didn’t recognize. His stomach rumbled and he blushed even harder, suddenly grateful that Bradford had turned away from him. He followed the older man, eyes cast downward, not wanting to be left behind or offend his host.

The kitchen was lavish, like something from a design magazine. It wasn’t the biggest kitchen Chad had ever seen. Some of the larger houses in the suburbs with their open floorplans were monstrous, in size and sometimes in content, but this was the most professional looking one he had ever stood in by far. Gleaming tiled floors, expensive looking wood furniture, retro futuristic appliances that looked custom made for the setting. He felt like he had stepped onto a set from a movie or something.

Brad had already moved in front of the stove where he opened the creaking oven door and poked at something inside with a fork.

“Go ahead and sit down, Chad,” Brad said, his deeper tones being swallowed by the machine in front of him. “I’ll make you a plate once I finish this up.”

Chad glanced at the wooden table, large and circular. There was a place-setting already laid out, with the fancy forks and everything. He slid onto the matching wooden chair as quietly as he could, not wanting to disturb Brad during his work. Looking around the table, noting the relative bareness beyond a small vase of flowers in the center, he frowned slightly as if something were off that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He jumped slightly when Brad’s toned arm, near hairless, appeared in his vision to grab the large green plate. It was only when he saw the absence that he realized what else was missing. The table was only set for one.

The plate reappeared, now full to the brim, and the sights and smells of clean, home made food punched Chad’s senses. A large steak, a cut that he was not sure the name of, but which he assumed must be expensive, sat on one side with a pan sauce so succulent it made Chad salivate. The other side of the plate was covered in a mountain of herb-roasted vegetables in varying shades of orange, brown and purple.

“Does everything look like its cooked to your satisfaction?” It took a moment for Chad to realize the question had been directed at him and he whirled his head toward Brad when it hit him.

“Y-yeah!” he squeaked. “It all looks great!”

It wasn’t a lie, even though he really had no way of properly expressing the overall quality of the food. The truth was, this plate was probably more expensive than any single helping he had ever had set in front of him his entire life. The beaming smile Brad gave him almost made up for the awkwardness.

They stayed in their relative positions for several moments. Chad sitting, straight-backed, hands on his lap, Brad standing at attention by the counter, eagerly watching Chad’s every move, before the younger man finally realized that Brad was waiting for him to start eating. He nervously grabbed a fork, the right one he hoped, and a steak knife.

“Um...are you going to eat with me?” he asked, blushing at the amused expression on Brad’s face, as if Chad had just said a humorous joke and not asked a straightforward question.

“No, sir,” Brad said, shaking his head. “This meal is all for you.”

Another shiver went up Chad’s spine and he was unsure if it was from the strangeness of the situation or the obvious devotion in Bradford’s words. Either way, he was going to eat this meal.

He began to cut into the steak, moving awkwardly as if sawing into a log, all under Brad’s eager eyes. When he finally cut off a sizable piece, watching its natural juices seep from the wound, he speared it with the fork and brought the hunk of beef to his mouth with as much dignity as he could muster. He actually whimpered. The taste was sublime. So good, it actually made his mouth water enough he had to swallow to keep from drooling.

“Is the steak to you liking?” he heard Brad ask him, though Chad’s eyes were now fixed on his bovine prize.

“Yes. It’s wonderful,” he said, the understatement of the century. It was the best piece of meat he had ever eaten in his entire life. He could practically feel Brad glowing next to him, as if he had been given the greatest compliment in the world.

“You don’t mind if I dress down, do you?” Brad asked.

When Chad didn’t respond, he took the initiative, and Chad could just make out the older man lower his shorts to the floor out of the corner of his eyes. Chad kept his eyes glued on the plate of food. He was hungry for meat and the steak was the only kind he trusted himself with at the moment.

The older submissive, taller and more buff than the younger man, moved quietly around the table as Chad continued cutting away at his steak. Chad could feel his presence behind him, large and looming. It should have felt oppressive, but when two larger hands settled on his shoulders and the nimble fingers began to rub at the tense muscle, Chad felt nothing but relief.

“I’m glad you are enjoying the food,” he heard the deep voice say into his ear. “I wanted our first meal together to be special.”

Chad couldn’t hide the goosebumps those words sent down his neck and he could almost feel the smile on Brad’s lips. “Can I make it better for you, sir?” Chad halted, potato spiked fork hanging in the air.

“...what did you have in mind?” he asked quietly, audibly swallowing even though his throat was empty.

Brad gave his shoulders once last, generous squeeze, and then dropped to his knees. Startled, Chad peered around the side of his chair, watching in amazement as the shorts-less ass, as perfectly toned as the rest and highlighted by the strap of a jock, paddled across the clean tiled floor and under the table.

He startled again when he saw a flash of white appear between his legs. Brad was staring up at him, his pale blue eyes gleaming with something that looked strangely like joy. His hands came to rest on Chad’s thighs, rubbing the tenderness of his thigh meat in tight supporting squeezes.

“Let me take care of everything, sir. You just enjoy the meal.”

Brad’s fingers dipped forward, those same nimble fingers that had just been touching his shoulders only moments ago gripped the tag of his pants zipper, the thumb and forefinger pulling down agonizingly slow, click, click, click. Chad watched, mesmerized, as if he were viewing a porno movie happen between his legs. Above him, the chunk of potato leaned over and crashed to the plate, unnoticed.

When Chad’s erection sprung from its denim prison, Brad gasped, actually gasped, as if the young man’s cock was a hidden treasure he had dug up and could now claim as his own. He grasped the prong, almost delicately, moving it gingerly between his fingers, examining each fold and wrinkle, the slight alterations in color and thickness. The smile never left his face.

“You have a beautiful cock, sir,” Brad said, nakedly worshiping now.

He leaned forward, inhaled deeply, his nostrils filling with the intoxicating scent of a young top needing to have his balls drained. Impossibly, he grinned wider, his eyes actually glazing over as he rubbed the glans and sticky cockhead across his cheeks, lips, and wherever else it touched his face.

Brad glanced up again, staring into Chad’s eyes, imploring. Chad just stared back, unsure of what was happening at first, until he realized that Brad was waiting for his permission and gave a jerky nod of ascent. That was all the go-ahead the older sub needed.

Brad brought the head into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the piss slit. Chad stared down between his legs, his own jaw hanging open at the sight of the older man going to work on him. After licking up every drop, Brad sank lower, taking more of Chad’s length into his mouth. Chad leaned back in his chair, his head tipped upward, staring at the ceiling. He distantly registered the coffered ceiling accents as Brad continued his descent.

Chad had always considered himself blessed in the cock department. Not porn star ginormous, but fairly lengthy and thick. A real mouthful, as a one-time fuckbud and later unfortunate life lesson had told him once. Where that man, younger and immature, had said those words with derision dressed in frivolity, it seemed none of those concerns applied to Brad. The older man, this self-proclaimed sub, was taking his cock like it was no big deal, going up and down, a little further each time, the saliva residue of his efforts marking each inch achieved, until finally his nose nestled into the damp patch of pubic hair as he bottomed out.

Brad held his head in place as if gap reflexes were a thing for lesser mortals, before rubbing his face in Chad muskier bush, marking the scent on his face, and pulling back with a long slow glide. He didn’t release the penis though. Instead, he trapped the head gently between his teeth, his eyes staring at it, glazed with lust. Then he plummeted downward drawing an uncontrollable gasp from the younger man.

Brad repeated this motion, again and again, the steady rise and fall of an older man serving the needs of his much younger paramour. The temptation to grab onto Brad’s head and fuck away at that face was fierce, but Chad held back, instead using his hands to try and steady his hips, to stop himself from blindly thrusting into the damp, cavernous heat between his legs.

He wanted to last longer, to hold off his orgasm. Real men stayed hard and full of cum, right? Fucked for hours if the stories were true. But Brad was no ordinary man, that was for certain. This was the suck job of a dedicated expert, not the tentative, mealy-mouthed BJs Chad had suffered through in the past on the rare moments he could get even that.

Chad groaned, his eyes rolling back into his head, jaw hanging open, as he finally gave in and spilled into Brad’s mouth. One hand instinctively clamped onto the top of Brad’s head, fisting the short-trimmed hair possessively. Brad’s hand joined his, not to pull away but to entwine and hold tighter, encouraging the younger man. The older man gently suckled on Chad’s length, drawing out every last drop he could. His eyes were open now, still a little hazy, but less fucked out. It was the first time Chad had never felt judged by an older man’s eyes staring at him so intently.

“Delicious,” Brad whispered, as he released Chad’s length from his hungry maw. He gave the softened package on last kiss on the head and then tucked it away back inside Chad’s pants, zipping them back up without another word. As if he hadn’t just given Chad the wildest and best blowjob of his entire young life. Brad rested his head on Chad’s lap, staring up at the young man with something in his eyes that felt like crazily like adoration.

“Thank you, sir,” he whispered, his voice still carrying that seductive baritone, not even a warble from his oral ministrations. His hands gently kneaded Chad’s legs again, eager and grounding. Brad was clearly in no rush to get off the floor and off his knees.

“Go ahead and finish you meal, sir,” he continued. “I’ll be down here when you need me again.”

Chad brought a hand up to his mouth, fake coughing to cover up the laughter that threatened to bubble uncomfortably to the surface. He brought his hand down to the cloth napkin and forced himself to look back at his plate of food. It was starting to grow cold now after Brad’s undertable distraction, but Chad was unsurprised to discover that he had built up quite an appetite. Gee, I wonder why?

Chad picked up his fork again, spearing the earlier dropped potato, and deliberately did not look back down for the rest of his meal.

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II.

They retired not to the bed, like Chad had expected with a queasy mixture of excitement and dread, but instead to the dark ebony couch planted at one wall in the spacious living room. Perhaps noticing the younger man’s reticence, Brad had slipped his barely there shorts back onto his ample hips in the kitchen, a small gesture at modesty. Watching Brad’s ample buttocks bounce invitingly as he squeezed back into the shorts did little more than make Chad notice just how built Brad’s aged frame actually was.

“Your body, it’s-it’s amazing,” he said, genuinely in awe.

It was true too. Bradford had the kind of body that instathots would kill each other for. Even better, the sub seemed completely uninterested in trotting it around the way some guys would at the gym, posing in front of mirrors and hogging the best equipment.

“Thank you,” Brad said, beaming quietly from the compliment. “It’s a lot of work keeping up with you young ones.”

Chad smiled a little at that. He wasn’t unhealthy by any stretch of the imagination, but comparing his willowy frame to Brad was like comparing a gnarled tree stump to a mighty redwood.

“I can tell,” Chad added, and tentatively reached out to touch a pectoral muscle drawing a winning smile from Brad.

“I’m glad it pleases you...sir?” The last word came out more as a question. “Is that what you like being called?” Chad swallowed, his hand stilling, having not expected the question.

“Sure, if you like it,” he said, and winced inwardly when he saw a tiny frown cross Brad’s face.

“I want to call you whatever name makes you most happy...Master?” He barely got the word out before the blank stare on Chad’s face triggered an awkward chuckle between the pair. Not a match.

“Finding the right title for you. The one that makes you feel like the man, like the dom. It’s all that matters to me...Son?”

The sharp intake of breath told Brad he had hit the bullseye.

“Is that it? Is that what you need to be called? Son?” There was a hint of excitement, controlled and regulated in Brad’s voice, a boy having cracked a secret code.

“If you’re my son, then...am I, Daddy?” Chad blushed, wanting to bury himself in Brad’s massive pecs, but that would only unwind him further. He forced himself to look into Brad’s inquisitive eyes.

“Um...Dad’s ok. Yeah, Dad is fine.”

He thought his head might explode from embarrassment even as his pants tightened. He was concerned that he would scare Brad off with his feebleness but he shouldn’t have been worried. The truth was Brad found it all more than a little charming. Innocence was a rare commodity in today’s world, especially among men who had sex with other men, and even more so in self-proclaimed doms. Brad inched closer, knowing he would have to take the reins over this jittery buck.

“I really enjoyed taking care of you in the kitchen, Son,” he said, perfectly timed words. “Cooking for you, nursing your cock...it made me happy. Making you happy makes me happy, Son.” The words were spoken with such honesty and lack of self-disgust that Chad didn’t know how to respond.

“I-I liked it too,” he said, weakly. “It was- it was fun.” Fun. Such a weak sounding word. The kitchen experience had been mindblowing. He had never known something like that could actually happen in real life.

“It was better than I expected,” he added, hoping to improve his chances of a repeat with this god in silver fox form. Brad leaned in further as if he was absorbing Chad into himself.

“I’m glad, Son,” he said, his breath ghosting against Chad’s cheek. “I want every time we are together to feel special.” Chad heard him swallow. “Can I do that for you, Son? Can Dad take care of you like that? Any way you need it?” Chad nodded, mutely, staring into those pale eyes.

“Yes...Dad. I want it. I want you.”

Their lips came together. It wasn’t Chad’s first kiss with a man, that dubious distinction was a geeky classmate back in Freshman year of high school, but it was pretty damn close. His lips parted and Brad’s tongue entered his mouth without having to be asked. It was magical, like two pieces of the same machine slotting together. When Chad pulled away, he was nearly shaking.

“Brad, um, I mean, Dad,” he mumbled, flustered. “Can we...can we just do that for a while? Before I got to head home?”

He expected to see disappointment on Brad’s face. Surely this dream daddy wanted more than a little sloppy head on the kitchen floor, but Brad just smiled at him, warm and content. His weathered hand stroked a disheveled lock off the side of Chad’s face.

“Of course, son,” he said, softer now. “Whatever makes you happy.”

He leaned forward again, taking the lead without being told, which Chad was eternally grateful for. He allowed himself to be leaned back, his fully clothed form dwarfed by the scantily clad muscle god as their mouths came back together. His arms wrapped around Brad’s shoulders easily, his legs spread to make space for Brad to settle. It was everything he needed and he barely had to ask for it.

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III.

The entire drive home Chad was giddy with excitement like a teenage girl coming home after prom. He couldn’t believe his luck. He just could not. How he had ever found such a seemingly perfect man, on the useless apps no less, who was not only what he proclaimed himself to be, but better. He wanted to pinch himself, but was afraid he might actually wake up from the dream.

Brad had pulled him into a tight hug on the way out. Not quite a bear hug, but something primal that hovered between paternal and lover. Chad got goosebumps just thinking about it. He had listened to Brad whisper into his ear with that perfect voice of his about how much he was looking forward to next time, how he couldn’t wait to show him just how dedicated he could truly be, and Chad thought his heart would punch a hole through his chest.

When he pulled onto his street, avoiding the pot holes and circling around the battered metal trash can that had rolled onto the road, his eyes darkened. There were two cars in the driveway, which meant…

His mood soured, Chad didn’t bother pulling into the cracked driveway, knowing full well how he would just get his head chewed off if he did. He parked on the street, his passenger side wheels edging onto the grass. Absentmindedly, he noted how the lawn was overdue for a cutting and added it to the pile of chores already on his mental list.

He stepped inside the house as quietly as he could, slowly closing the door behind him so he wouldn’t disturb his mom and her latest boyfriend. Internally he scoffed. We’ll see how long this one lasts.

He tiptoed down the hallway, ignoring the stale scent in the air, past the only bathroom. He needed a shower and a good teeth brushing, but he wasn’t about to alert the pair to his presence. Besides, if he concentrated he could still faintly taste Brad in his mouth, could still smell his scent and could sniff it like an aphrodisiac. At least that was what he told himself.

When he closed the door to his room, he finally released a breath he didn’t know he was holding in. This was awful, but it was his life. Better get used to it and enjoy the Brads of the world when they came along, because if he had learned anything in his short time on this Earth, they never stuck around. He plopped down on his bed, noting how he forget to make the bed again. He imagined Brad in Dad mode, with a disapproving shake of his head. He had to remember to take care of things better. To take care of himself better.

He pulled his phone from his pocket, pulled up the app, pulled up the profile, starred, faved, saved, any form of permanence he could manage. Professional mature man looking for a companion. Nothing particularly strange there. Brad was unusually attractive in his pictures, but any toad could be dressed up with the right angles and filters. It was the other details that had caught his attention.

I enjoy being fully submissive in and out of the bedroom. A real shocker that. I’m looking for a young man to be the dominant I’ve always dreamed about. At first, Chad had thought he had read it wrong. Submissive daddy looking for a dominant boy? What? Did that kind of thing actually happen? He had sent Brad a message almost on autopilot, as if he was under a spell. He was shocked when it happened and even more shocked when Brad responded back with enthusiasm.

They had chatted back and forth for a while, taking their time to get to know one another in the most basic of terms. Brad was just...perfect. Weirdly so. But then there was the other issue…

Chad wasn’t a dominant. He actually didn’t even understand what the term was referring to, having to turn to AI for guidance, and been given a rudimentary definition before being sent to varying online groups and read the most bizarre sounding comments. The entire idea had felt strange and foreign, like listening to a familiar language being spoken backwards. Whatever, he had told himself, it was all going to be a waste of time in the end, so who cared if Brad was a freakazoid. He had accepted Brad’s offer of dinner readily, assuming they would awkwardly fool around, then Brad would pin him down for the impostor he was and send him packing.

Instead, Brad turned out to be a perfect gentleman. A very subservient gentleman. Chad shook his head, replaying the events of the night. It was weird, at least by conventional standards, but he had liked it. Not just liked it. Liked liked it. He still didn’t know what to think about that and he was saved from further contemplation for the moment when he heard the muffled arguing start up behind the wall.

Chad rolled his eyes, leaning across his bed to grab the old battered pair of headphones he had owned since high school, a constant companion that had gotten him through more than one domestic shit show. By the time he brought the cheap plastic to his head, the screaming was beginning to reach a fever pitch that the paper thin walls could never hope to hold in.

The noise canceling settled over his ears like an old friend. He pulled up his spotify playlist, glancing through the menu as the screams died down and began to morph into grunting of a different nature. He eventually settled on Vampire Weekend, lay back, ignoring the dull thumping coming from the wall, and closed his eyes. As Johanna’s story filled his earholes yet again, he reached into his pants, imaging gently tanned skin on muscled flesh and a gray haired head with the perfect smile.

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IV.

It was nearly 2 weeks before their schedules lined up well enough to meet again, but for Chad Bowers it might as well have been 2 years. They texted every day, but just a little. A daily check-in. A “how’s it going?” and the usual casual pleasantries. Enough to maintain the line but not scare away the fish. For Chad, who had spent his entire 19 years living on subsistence, it barely kept him going. He had gotten a taste of what Bradford Meadows could offer and he was hungry for more.

When the Friday blessedly arrived, Chad showed up nearly 30 minutes early and sat out in his car nervously fiddling with his phone, trying to focus on anything but the man waiting for him at the top of the building. Eventually he could hold it in no longer and bolted from his parked vehicle, marching down the street to his destination at a brisk pace, his sweaty hands tucked into his pockets. He nodded to the doorman on the way inside and rode the elevator up to Brad’s domain, his leg bouncing restlessly as he passed floor by floor.

The doors opened into the clean, plush looking hallway and he waited outside Brad’s front door, a nervous puppy, pacing and counting down the seconds until at just 5 til the hour he knocked on the door as quickly and as politely as he could muster.

The door opened and he was again blown away by Bradford’s presence even though he fully knew what to expect. This evening, Brad had forgone the skimpy shorts for a pair of loose-fitting sweats, the kind you would wear to bed. They hung low on his hips, giving Chad a peek of grey hair on Brad naked upper chest pouring below the waistline into deeper waters. He forced his head to look at Brad’s face as the older man began talking.

“Chad!”

When Brad pulled him into his arms, Chad allowed himself to be dragged inside, feeling the gym-toned perfection cover him like a warm blanket. “It’s good to see you again, Son.” Chad didn’t even bother to hide the excitement that word caused. He inhaled Brad’s alluring scent, feeling his head begin to swim.

“Did you still want what we talked about earlier?” Chad’s blush intensified and he buried his face closer to Bradford’s armpit, noting the muskier fragrance beneath the citrus. He simply nodding into the older man’s flesh, not trusting his ability to form words.

Brad was the one who had brought up the idea of anal sex in their messages about a week ago.

You know I would give you anything you needed, Son. Even that. The words had felt so much like a promising question that not even Chad’s naivety could miss it.

I want to. He had admitted. A lot. Understatement of the year.

I don’t have much practice with that though. His “practice” was jerking into his hand while he fantasized loading a man up for the first time. If Brad noticed, he didn’t comment.

That’s ok, Son. You just let Dad take care of everything. He knows just what his boy needs.

Now here he was, back in Brad’s apartment with the sub daddy offering himself on a silver platter. He pried himself from the comforting heat of Brad’s modestly tanned body and nodded more firmly.

“Yes, Dad,” he said, the word making his cock twitch. “I still want it.” I still want you.

Brad smiled, his hand closed over Chad’s and he gently lead the young man through the living room, past the kitchen and down a short hallway until they came to an open doorway. The light of the bedroom was on, an open invitation to this new stage of their relationship.

The room was everything Chad expected and more. Clean lines, fine sheets, mellow colors. Crisp and organized. A man’s room, one of impeccable taste. The kind of bedroom you would see in a catalog promising you the kind of life you could be living in a single picture. Except he was here, standing inside it in the flesh, with a dream dad about to give himself away completely. He tried to picture himself here, a permanent resident, saddling up to his side of the bed after a long day of work. It was preposterous.

Brad stepped behind him, his hands a comforting weight on Chad’s shoulders, pulling him back to reality.

“Can I help you get more comfortable, son?”

Chad nodded, still taking in the finer details as Brad’s large hands snaked around his midriff and began the slow climb up his youthful peaks. The nimble fingers plucked at the snaps of his Target button-up, each one sounding deafening to the nervous young man. A slight chill began to rise up Chad’s belly as more of his tan-toned flesh was exposed to the cooler air of the room. He could feel himself beginning to sweat, even with the chill, and the goosebumps spread with each exhalation on the nape of his neck.

By the time the shirt fluttered to the floor, Chad was leaning back against Brad who was rocking him to the beat of an unknown song. They moved together slowly as one, Brad’s fingers working open Chad’s pants as they swayed together.

“Beautiful, absolutely beautiful,” Brad whispered, his voice husky in a way Chad hadn’t heard yet. When the pants tumbled along with the shirt, Chad allowed himself to be pulled toward the mattress, stepping out of the pants legs as if he was abandoning an old skin. When Brad dipped him onto the bed, he actually went limp, letting himself be lowered almost like a child. He was nearly beginning to drift a bit when he saw Bradford stepped back and lower his own pants. The sight made his eyes widen.

On their first date, Brad had worn a jock, but not tonight. Where Brad’s cock lay there was a metal cage, small, almost too small looking. Chad was no expert on this sort of thing, far from it, but he was fairly certain it was some kind of chastity device. It was the kind of thing he would have expected an attention seeking twink on social media to be sporting, not a grown man old enough to be his father.

“Do you like it, son?” Brad asked him, quiet but unashamed. There was an awkwardness in the air, but the stifling wave was coming from only one direction. Chad shook his head and forced a smile on his face.

“I’m just surprised,” he admitted, still a little wide-eyed. “I’ve never seen anything like that in person before.” Brad stepped closer, close enough to reach.

“You can touch it, Son,” he said, still quiet, but with a hint of challenge. “You can feel what Dad is.”

Chad was unsure of how to take that last comment, but he did as was suggested, cupping the tiny package, the larger balls sitting in his hand. He rolled the testicles in his palm, enjoying the heft of them, so much more than the locked away nub sitting on top. He fondled the cage with a finger, touching the riveted metal with rapt fascination. He was holding Brad’s package, the symbol of his manhood in his hand as if it was an ornament or toy he was playing with. He felt his blood burn a little hotter.

“Br-uh, Dad,” he said, his eyes still staring down. “Why do you wear it? I don’t really…” He didn’t want to finish the sentence. He was afraid his confusion would come across as ignorance and offend this elder god submitting to him. Above him, Brad smiled, understanding.

“It helps me stay focused. Be the kind of submissive I want to be. The kind I imagine in my head. It helps me be me.” Chad nodded along to the words, understanding, yet not understanding at all. They were two men speaking very different languages, but he couldn’t deny the allure of Brad’s presentation.

“I like it,” he said to Brad, surprising himself by realizing he wasn’t actually lying.

He didn’t get it, not really, but he was attracted to it all the same because it was unapologetic Bradford Meadows. And he was already falling hard, cage or no cage. Brad stepped back, letting his balls drop from the cup of Chad’s smaller hand, where they bounced and rested between his thighs.

“Lay back, Son,” Brad said, voice soft with something more tender now. “Dad is going to give you what you need.”

Chad did as he was told, laying flat on his back. He was tenting something major in his boxers, but unlike other encounters he didn’t feel embarrassed by his arousal. He could tell by how Brad looked at it, looked at him, that he liked what he saw.

Brad stepped gingerly onto the bed, coming to his knees and walking on his shins until he reached that cotton undergarment. He reached forward, hands touching the crimped waistband, and when Chad gave the nod of assent, he pulled them down, his smile widening when Chad’s monster sprung free with a tremendous leap. The underwear snagged on his ankle until Brad freed it with a small tug and then it was discarded with the rest of the unwanted baggage.

Brad leaned forward, coming to rest on his belly. He stared at Chad’s cock, mesmerized.

“So beautiful, Son,” he said, deep and true. He kissed the crown of the cock once, worshipful, before sliding along the length one press of his lips at a time. Chad clutched onto the bedspread, his fingers digging into the hi-ply sheets and fabric. Brad, his eyes level with Chad’s ballsack, looked up at his young dom hopefully. “May I taste you again?”

“Y-yeah. Please,” Chad said, surprised he even needed to ask.

He hissed and closed his eyes when Brad’s lips closed around his cockhead, sealing it inside and began to take in more of the shaft, inch by inch. Chad didn’t trust himself to watch without the distractions from last time, so he did his best not to cum as Brad slowly sucked on his cock with a single minded focus the young man didn’t know was possible. His eyes opened, confused when the blessed sensation stopped. He stared downward, almost in alarm.

“I could feel you getting close, Son,” Brad said, apologetic, his brow furrowed. “I thought you might want to save it for my other hole.”

Chad hissed again, cursing himself. He realized Brad was right. He would have gladly let the daddy suck him off and then where would he be. Jeez, Chad. You’re acting like a stupid kid.

Brad seemed unaware of Chad’s inner trepidation. He simply rose to his hands and knees, climbing up the smaller, less toned body beneath him. When he sat up, Chad’s throbbing erection poked at his backside, leaving a telltale smear on his coccyx.

“Are you ready, Chad?” Brad asked, suddenly serious, and hearing his name was enough to jolt Chad out of his stupor enough to actually think through the question. He nodded, determined.

“Yes, I want it,” he said, and then after a moment’s hesitation added. “I want you, Dad.” Brad beamed, all happy submissive again, then leaned forward and kissed him on the lips, the angle not allowing more than fleeting contact. When Brad sat back up, Chad’s cockhead was kissing his hole. He reached behind himself, grasping it firmly.

“Dad’s ready too, Son.” He applied pressure with his rear and the head began to sink into the tight gap. Chad’s eyes widened as he realized what was about to happen.

“W-wait!?” he said, and Brad froze. “Don’t you need lube?” The tension that his earlier outburst caused melted away at the second question. Brad reached forward, pinched a cheek affectionately.

“I’m already prepared and you’ve got all the lube I need on you already, Son,” he said, mischief in his eyes. He pushed down again, and the head slipped inside. “Dad can take it all. I was built for this. Built for you.”

He began to sink, but slow, no doubt pacing himself through the burn, but also taking evident pleasure with each new inch that sank inside him. Below, Chad could only watch in amazement as his cock, wet with little more than saliva and pre, was swallowed whole by the submissive man on top of it.

Chad’s nostrils flared as Brad bottomed out, the short, coarse hair of the younger man’s thin bush scratching the older man’s sensitive bits. As he felt Chad’s ball touch his cheeks, a look of supreme satisfaction passed over Brad’s sweaty face and he looked down at Chad, eyes shining.

“You’re all in, Son,” He squeezed, drawing a sharp gasp from Brad. “Every last inch deep inside Dad’s tight hole.” He squeezed again and Chad couldn’t stop it. He gasped, clawing at the sheets as he spilled early, creaming the sub for the first time. Brad’s eyes widened when he realized what was happening and an almost imperceptible flush spread across his cheeks.

“Did Dad make you cum, Son,” he whispered, and Chad buried his hands on his head, mortified. He kept those eyes screwed shut as Brad pulled his hands away, horrified at the look of disappointment that must have been stitched on Bradford’s face.

“I’m happy you came, Son,” he heard the deep voice say and he cracked open an eye in confusion. Brad was on top of him, still seated on his cock, rubbing on his own chest, like he was fondling himself thinking about it. “It’s all I ever want. To make you feel good. To make you happy again and again.”

Another squeeze, harder this time, as if testing the rigidity of the boy’s cock and nerves. Despite all odds, with the sight above him and the constant pressure on his groin, his dick barely flagged, soon back to full hardness as if his spooge wasn’t spilling down each inch. Above him, Brad looked ready to burst into song.

“Do you need more, Son?” he asked, already knowing the answer, and shifting so that cock kissed his prostate. “Dad wants you to have it all, Son. Use me as much as you want. I’m all yours.” He leaned forward, eyes looking feverish. “Just tell me what you want, Son. Please.” Chad swallowed loudly, and digging deep, found his voice

“Ride me, Dad,” he said, barely above a whisper. “Ride me until I shoot again.”

He saw it in Brad’s eyes, the fire igniting. The older man leaned, tilting the angle so the cock hit that bundle of nerves again. Chad watched Brad close his eyes, steel himself, then slowly rise, inch by inch of teenage flesh coming into view, wet and creamy. Then, as the head of Chad’s cock seemed fit to slip from the hole, Brad dropped, the full weight of his hips slamming back, sheathing himself and knocking the breath from the pair.

“Oh, Son,” Brad whimpered, actually whimpered. “Your big cock feels so good inside me.”

The dam broken, Brad set a rhythmic pace, using his ample anal skills to pleasure his young man. He bounced up and down with a smooth glide that spoke of practice and a deep seated desire to be the best hole he could be. It was almost overwhelming and if Chad hadn’t just recently orgasmed, he was certain he would have already painted Brad’s insides just from the sight alone.

Brad’s face was a mask of submissive bliss as he went about his work. He was still in control, he was doing all the work after all, but beneath that control Chad saw more strongly what he had glimpsed fleetingly last time in the kitchen. There was pleasure written on every inch of Brad’s body and it was all coming from Chad. Brad looked down at the young man, dreamy eyed.

“Does it feel good, Son? Does Dad’s hole feel good on you?” Brad breathed out, squeezing like a vice. “I’ll do this for you anytime you want it. You never have to ask. Just take it. Dad’s hole belongs to you.” Brad whipped his head back, arching. “Dad’s cunt was made for you to fuck, Son!”

Chad gasped as he spilled again, somehow even harder than last time. Brad was ready, he planted himself bone deep, hard enough to sting Chad’s hips and milked like a madman. He had that feverish look in his eyes. The well-bred look. Chad wanted to touch but restrained himself, but Brad was having none of that.

“You can touch me, Son,” he said, breathless. Without being asked, he grabbed Chad’s hands and brought them to his body. “This is all yours. Touch me however you want.” Chad tentatively allowed himself to be led. He turned his brain off, too afraid that he would overthink it. Both hands clasped onto the meat of Brad’s chest and the man hissed.

“You like those, Son?” Brad asked, continuing to milk. “You can do anything you want to them. Tease them, squeeze them, pinch them, hit them, bite them. Whatever you want. Whatever makes you happy.” He inhaled sharply as Chad’s hands tightened their grip. “Dad’s tits belong to you, Son.”

Holy shit, this is wild.

Several minutes passed, the pair connected, while Chad tentatively manhandled his sub, fondling every piece of meat his shorter arms could grab a hold of. Eventually, nature took its course and his dick slipped out of Brad’s body with an audible plop. He was startled when Brad collapsed on top of him, and for a second Chad thought he had somehow pushed the older man too far, but he realized his mistake when Brad raised his hips off the bed, as if he was doing a subtle yoga pose.

“I need to keep you inside me, Son.” He heard Brad whisper hotly into his ear. “I don’t want to waste a single drop. Not until you give me permission. Then I’ll do anything you want me to do with it.” Chad’s head swam at the implications and he was glad for the distraction Brad’s next words provided, especially with the way the older man was rubbing on his young body. “I can keep myself plugged for the rest of the night. Would you like that, Son? Do you want Dad to plug up his freshly bred cunt?”

Chad chanced a glance at Brad, stared into the eager puppy dogs eyes of the submissive older man, and mutely nodded.

This...this was going to take some getting used to.

-----

V.

The pair had barely left the bed before Brad was feeding him again. This time it was a pasta dish, something with lots of herbs and mushrooms that probably had a fancy Italian name Chad had never heard of. He was convinced the pasta was homemade too, but was too embarrassed to ask and expose his ignorance. So, he ate in relative silence, an easy enough feat except for Brad standing like a dutiful sentry by the table, read to wait on his every whim.

Oh, and how could he forget the plug. As soon as Chad had given him the ok, Brad had hopped off the bed and dashed to a side drawer, where he apparently kept an arsenal of toys ready for battle. Brad had bent over his nearby dresser, his stance wide, and parted his cheeks. Chad got a brief glimpse of Brad’s creamy gape before the older man was pushing the head of the plug inside with an ease that felt astonishing to Chad’s inexperienced mind. When Brad had turned back around he was grinning so wide and proud, like he had just performed an amazing trick worthy of a blue ribbon, and Chad had matched his smile as wide as he could, feeling slightly panicky on the inside.

The food was good, the sex was better, but all this combined was…a lot. Not bad a lot. Just...a lot.

That didn’t stop Chad from finishing off his plate and helping himself to seconds, which Brad was only all too eager to provide.

“Gotta keep my growing boy well fed,” he teased, and Chad actually blushed at that, secretly thinking the same thought. When he finished with a quiet belch, Brad came up behind him again, a repeat of the previous “date”. Already he was feeling more relaxed in Brad’s grip, the feeling of the older man’s manicured hands almost natural. As if they were meant to hold him.

“We’ve had a busy night, Son,” Brad murmured, massaging the shoulders once more. “It might not be a bad idea to wind things down.” Chad tensed, and Brad squeezed a little tighter in a gesture that was supposed to be affirming. “How about I draw you a nice bath and get you cleaned up before you go.” Chad raised his head, looking up at Brad who was looking down at him, his eyes horny and paternal.

“Ok, Dad.”

-----

As expected, the water was glorious. The tub was massive, no surprise there, but the additives were a nice touch. Chad wasn’t positive what the exact combination was. Epsom salts for sure, but there was some kind of earthy scent coming from the water too that reminded him of the woods behind his house that he would hide out in when the fighting got too bad to ignore. It was weirdly nostalgic and comforting in a way his real house never felt.

He had just settled down into the water, already feeling himself beginning to drift off a bit when he was jolted back to full consciousness by a glass clink next to his head. There was a tumbler filled with a dark amber liquid on ice. Whiskey? Brad, who was already on his knees next to the tub looked at him with a tiny smirk.

“In case you get thirsty.”

Brad’s hand dipped into the water, the washcloth he was holding soaking up the liquid. He brought the cloth up to glide and gently scrub across Chad’s smooth chest.

“You’re beautiful like this.” He said, eyes fixated where his hand moved and Chad gawped.

“Wait-what!? I’m beautiful? Have you looked in a mirror?” Brad chuckled, deep and warm, a sound that felt like brown sugar melting under the sun.

“Thank you, Son,” he said, quiet now as he continued to scrub. He reached across for a bar of soap, something big that smelled like oatmeal. Chad resisted the temptation to grab a perky nipple dangling in front of his face. “Did you enjoy yourself?” Brad continued, enveloped in his task and Chad actually smiled at that.

“Do you really have to ask. Isn’t 2 loads in your ass a pretty solid answer?” Brad smirked, and wiggled his butt playfully.

“There’s always more if you want it. Dad won’t say no to his favorite Son.” Chad smirked now.

“Oh? Your favorite? Do you have lots of other sons?” He meant it playfully, but was shocked when Brad took the question seriously.

“There might be other young men,” he admitted. He glanced up at Chad, an unspoken conversation happening between them. “Is that a problem?” Chad tensed at being so directly confronted.

“N-no, I just thought…” he stammered, stopped himself and reorganized his thoughts. “You just seem like a one-man kind of guy. I mean, based on the way you like to talk and all that…” Brad nodded, looking pensive.

“I am,” he said. “That’s actually what I want. To find one man I can devote myself to, heart and soul.” Now Chad was just confused.

“Then why all the-” he was about to say “fucking around”, but wisely stopped himself. Brad caught on all the same.

“I still have needs and it takes time to find the right man. I’m not willing to hitch my wagon to a single guy until he’s proven his worth to me.” His hand stilled. “Is that going to be a problem?”

“No!” Chad replied before he even had a chance to think about the question. “I just didn’t know, that’s all.” Even as the words left his mouth, they felt like a lie. He didn’t like it one bit, but what could he really say. Brad wanted a dom and Chad was certainly no dom. “I hope I didn’t disappoint you.”

Brad let the soap drop from his hand where it plopped into the water. He leaned forward and kissed Chad gently on the lips, nuzzling him as he responded.

“You were wonderful. Better than I hoped for actually. So sweet and innocent. I kind of enjoyed corrupting you.” Brad laughed, almost boyishly as Chad splashed him in the face with the sudsy water.

Chad sunk down a little deeper into the suds, face looking sulky now.

“Are you some kind of bossman or something at your work? You seem like you are used to getting your way…” Brad raised an eyebrow at Chad’s ornery tone.

“I was a CEO,” that caught Chad’s attention. “For a major manufacturing company that makes heating implements for machines. Hairdryers. Fry cookers. Microwaves. Lots of furnaces. That kind of thing. You probably use our products and have no idea.” He leaned forward, his breath mingling with Chad’s steamy skin. “I’m very good at keeping naughty boys warm at night.”

“...If you are such a high powered boss? What are you doing acting all submissive for a kid like me ?” Chad’s heart sunk as he watched Brad’s lustful smile falter and then settle into something calmer and more resigned.

“That’s a conversation we should save for another day, ok Son?” he asked, a tinge of sadness in his voice. Chad nodded, mutely, not wanting to say anything else that might upset the man. As Brad went back to cleaning him, he realized something else. Was. He said he WAS a CEO...

-----

VI.

Chad waited a full 5 days before texting Brad again. His heart was hammering in his chest as he pulled up the older sub’s profile on his phone. 

Hi Brad I - He stopped, frowned, bit his lip and deleted. His thumbs started again.

Hey Dad. I’m sure you’ve been busy. Your Son misses you. 

There was no response for several minutes, and Chad was frantically composing a rebuttal in his head to walk back his sign of vulnerability when his phone chimed. He held up the device, his face lighting up with the screen.

Hi Son! Glad to finally hear from you! I was wondering if maybe you had gotten bored and moved on. Glad to hear that isn’t the case.

From inside the house, Chad could hear his mom calling for him, but he ignored it, moving around to the back of the shed out of eyesight of the main house.

No way Dad. I’ve been thinking about you all th-  Chad winced, stopping himself.

No way, Dad. I just know you must need your space. I know you must be a busy man. He paused, his fingers twiddling and then added. I knew you would be there for me if I ever really needed you. He bit his lip, waited. The chime and then the enthusiastic response.

You’re such a good boy, Son. It makes me proud to be your Dad. Chad felt himself flush even from the distance. He heard his mother yell again, louder this time.

“Chad!!”

Chad focused all of his attention on the device in his hands, typing more frantically now.

When can I see you again, Dad? He asked, anxious now to get to the point. He paced in tight circles, kicking up dirt around the weedy grass surrounding the rusting metal structure until the response finally came in.

Whenever you are available, Son. I’m free tonight if you are. Chad’s tight frown cracked into a wide grin. 

Yes sir. He paused, wondering if that might have been too formal for the sub and then chanced the idea that Brad might like the politeness of the term. I can’t wait to see you again. Same time?

Sir? Shouldn’t that be my line? jk 

Yes, Son. I’ll be ready for you at 7PM sharp. There was another pause and then a flirtatious denouement.

Do you want me waiting on my hands and knees, Son? In a jockstrap? Panties? Naked? Whatever you want, I’ll do it for you. Chad released a breath, not realizing how long he had held it. His mind swam at the images dropped on his lap and a shameful paralysis overcame him. He finally responded.

Whatever works for you, works for me, Dad. Then he added. Surprise me.

There was no answer for a long time until finally Brad wrote back.

Ok, Son. I’m looking forward to seeing you again.

He gave Brad a thumbs up right as the back porch door swung open with a rickety slam.

“CHAD!!!” Chad wheeled around his hiding spot knowing there was no more putting off the inevitable.

“Jesus Christ…” he muttered under his breath, then louder, “What is it!? What’s got you so worked up the whole neighborhood has to know about it!?” The look his mother gave him was withering.

“Don’t you take that tone with me, mister.” She snapped, flicking ash from her menthol cigarette. “I raised you better than that.” Chad bit his lip hard enough that his eyes watered.

“I’m heading out to Fort Dix. Figured maybe it was time you tagged along and saw your daddy again.” Chad scowled, resisting the urge to spit on the ground.

“Yeah, no thanks,” he muttered. He would have rather drank his own piss than have to see that sorry bastard again, even with the hours long drive. His mother wasn’t dissuaded though.

“He asks about you. Wonders why you never come to visit.” Chad wanted to spill his guts and bury his mother under stories of hard shoves, cruel glares, and drunken breath, but he didn’t bother. She already knew most of them.

“I’ve already got plans,” he said, coldly. She studied him for a moment, curious, then took one last shuddering drag and shrugged. 

“Suit yourself.” She turned away, the door slamming back in place behind her. Chad stood, staring at the entry, his fingers digging into his palms hard enough to leave tiny crescent shaped marks.

-----

VII.

They hadn’t even made it out of the living room this time. Brad had been waiting for him in nothing more than pair of black jockey shorts made mostly of nylon and lace. “Men’s lingerie”, Brad had told him later, formed and fitted for the masculine form. A hint of feminine softness iced on top of Brad’s uber masculine frame.

When Brad sucked him off on his hands and knees, his ample buttocks hiked up to show off his goods, he had stared into Chad’s eyes with apt attention, not even blinking as he swallowed every last drop. Brad had shown only a moment’s hesitation when Chad told him he wanted the older man to ride his cock again. There was no need to lower the underwear with its hole in the back built for this very purpose. Brad hadn’t even needed lubrication, Chad realized as the older man sunk down on his length once more, wet and sticky on the inside.

Brad rode him with steady, eager bounces, taking his time, his eyes never leaving Chad’s face, studying ever micro-reaction that spilled past the boy’s steady defenses. As he rode, Brad hooked his thumbs into the waistband of the jockey shorts, lowering them just enough to show off his caged cock, color matched with the black lingerie.

“You feel so good, Son,” he said, slightly dreamy. “You’re making Dad drip.” It was true, Chad realized as he finally noticed a slowly building bud of dew forming at the tip and threatening to drip down the plastic. Curious, Chad reached forward with a finger, touching it and feeling the moisture spread across his fingertip. He brought the finger to his lips, his tongue slurping in the submissive offering.

“Mmm, tasty,” he said, surprising even himself that he liked the salty taste. Brad released a tiny, almost imperceptible sigh of pleasure and his bouncing sped up.

“Son, if you keep doing that, I’m going to-!!” Brad’s mouth twisted into a tight O, a look of surprise crossing his features, and then he was shaking so hard he nearly fell of Chad’s lap. As the younger man reached forward to grab him, he began to laugh, short and shaky.

“Wh-are you okay!?” Chad asked in alarm, and Brad actually laughed harder, leaning forward, his cropped beard rubbing against Chad’s face.

“More than okay, Son,” he breathed out, and sighed again. “You just gave me an anal orgasm.”

Chad’s eyes shot up, unsure of exactly what that was other than something that must have been immensely pleasurable. It appealed and stoked something primal in him all the same, and without being told or asking for permission, he grasped Brad’s hips, and began to piston fuck like a machine going off the rails. The results were sharp and instantaneous.

“OH FUCK, YES!!!” Brad said so loud, it was almost a shriek. The older man grasped onto Chad for dear life as he was treated like a hole. They moved together in a blinding rhythm, matching each other in the ancient animalistic dance. The floor protested the treatment, loud banging noises echoing throughout the room. The downstairs neighbors must hate them. When Chad buried himself one more time hard enough to sting, Brad cried out, a confused mixture of pain that dripped into syrupy pleasure as he felt Chad’s seed fill him up.

“Oh, Son.” he whimpered, nearly out of breath, but looking as happy as Chad had ever seen him. The pair looked at each other, pale blue eyes to deeper brown ones, and their mouths came together as one. They stayed like that for a long time, Dom Son kissing Sub Dad long after Chad’s softened cock slipped from Brad’s hole and the young man’s seed dripped onto the floor.

-----

Brad had insisted on the massage afterwards, claiming Chad was still wound up with tension. Personally, Chad was convinced the older man just wanted another excuse to keep touching him, and truthfully after their fuck session and the shitty day he had been having a massage did sound awfully good.

He watched from his sticky spot on the couch as Brad carried out the massage table, because of course Bradford owned a massage table. With a little help, he climbed onto the padded foam, face down, his head comfortably resting on a cushion. He was about to make a sly comment, something cheeky to mask his vulnerability, but that all went out the window with the first squeeze of Brad’s nimble fingers on his tight shoulders.

“You’re so tense, Son,” Bradford said, a hint of chiding in his voice. “You should ask Dad to take care of you like this more often.” Chad would have said something snide about that (he had always hated to ask for help), but instead found himself asking about something that had been bothering him for a while.

“Brad, uh, Dad,” he corrected, not wanting to break the rules of the game. “How did you become like, um…” he wasn’t sure of exactly how to express his question, but Brad was already a step ahead of him.

“A submissive?”

Chad nodded, or attempted to anyways. There was a long pause, as if the older man was considering how to tell the tale, when Brad cleared his throat and began.

“So, you already know that I was a CEO. A big company man, as you put it,” he said, with a hint of amusement in his voice. “You asked me about my past. About the boys.” Brad’s fingers stilled, then rolled in circles between Chad’s shoulder blades.

“I’ve always craved young men as long as I can remember getting my dick hard. I would age up, but my tastes stayed the same. I can’t say I always felt proud of those desires, but we all want what we want. Some needs aren’t simple or straightforward.”

His brow furrowed at that puzzling admission, Chad groaned lowly as Brad hit a particularly tight knot on his back.

“There were plenty of boys just like you thought. I was a bigwig for a major company and raking in a serious income so there was never any shortage of them.” Chad didn’t see him shake his head. “They practically threw themselves at me like I was a Thanksgiving meal.” He sounded less happy about that.

Brad’s hands drifted lower, past the planes of Chad’s shoulder blades, touching his softer sides with a more fleeting pressure.

“I was always the top and always in charge. Just like in the boardroom. I didn’t hate it. It was what the boys wanted and what I wanted. Or are least that was what I told myself.” He squeezed, as if the thought was uncomfortable sitting in his head.

“It was good, the sex, but it always felt like it should have been better. Like something fundamental was missing. I was too stuck in my ways, always in control, so I could never find the obvious answer to the solution. So, I continued on like always. Find a new boy. Be his big daddy top. Get bored or annoyed or frustrated. Find a new boy. Rinse and repeat.” He paused, his fingers tightening into claws.

“Then I got cancer.”

Chad raised his head in surprise, his locks drifting into his eyes, partially obscuring Brad’s grimace.

“What?” Brad nodded.

“Testicular cancer. I was lucky. They caught it early and I was able to get it removed with chemo and a little surgery.”

His hands moved again, reaching down to lift his sack where there was a small incision. So obvious, yet somehow Chad had failed to notice it completely.

“I almost lost everything. And not just from the disease. People tried to take everything from me.” He said this last bit with no small amount of anger in his voice. Chad remembered that night in the tub.

“You said you used to be a CEO…” Brad nodded, eyes narrow.

“Yes, I was ousted as soon as I went under the knife.” He lifted his hands off of Chad’s flesh, the fingers twisting at some unspoken memory. “They were going to bleed me dry, but I got the last laugh in the end. I pulled some strings, called in some favors. I still had my stocks and investments. I bought out a bunch of the shareholders. I clawed my way back onto the board and made every one of those bastards look me in the face when I told them I was the majority shareholder. I still had my pride for all the good it did me.”

He sighed, bringing his hands back down. They felt heavier than before.

“But there were complications. My dick was never the same after the surgery and treatments. Sometimes it would cooperate as if nothing had ever happened and other times, most times, it would refuse to get hard at all.” Chad’s eyes softened.

“You mean…” Brad nodded and smiled, a face full not of happiness but resignation.

“Yes. My days of being a proud total top were over. I admit it, I freaked at first. I couldn’t imagine life without my boys keeping me occupied. Pleasing them as their top gave me a sense of satisfaction I couldn’t live without. So I pivoted and learned how to be something new.”

“It wasn’t easy at first. Everything about my background balked at the idea of being penetrated. Of letting myself be mounted like a dog by what I saw as boys in my mind. But I forced myself to do it. It was rough going until I met a special boy.” His tone turned nostalgic. “He was different from the others. A young buck who wasn’t afraid of me. He saw a CEO and the title attracted him for a reason completely different from the other boys. He saw me as a challenge to be conquered and tamed. He took what he wanted and against all odds I loved every second of it.”

Brad’s hands continued their movement, lower now, touching the top of Chad’s buttocks.

“I had never been fucked like that. Claimed by a man. My entire worldview shifted. It was like I could see clearly for the first time in my entire life. I was a submissive from that day forward and I never looked back.”

Chad turned, rolling on his side, and addressed Brad.

“What happened to that boy?” he asked tentatively. Brad smiled at him, the light dimming a bit in his eyes.

“Not all things are meant to last forever,” he whispered, then leaned forward, his lips kissing Chad’s earlobe. “But now I’m here for you. I get to be the Dad you need, right Son?”

Chad nodded, already feeling himself hardening under the table. Brad’s hands suddenly felt hot on his skin.

“Dad…” he asked, burying his face once more. “Can you, um, can you…” He couldn’t finish the sentence, instead he wiggled his butt enticingly, hoping Bradford got the hint. He heard the man chuckle above him, a little low for his liking.

“Of course, Son. That’s what I’m here for.” he said and parted Chad’s cheeks.

-----

VIII.

Chad knew he was in trouble as soon as he heard the knock on his bedroom door. An ominous rat-at-tat-tap that always spelled trouble. When he didn’t respond fast enough, the knocking continued louder this time, more insistent. He set down his copy of Dungeon Crawler Carl, huffing in annoyance as he lost his place in the book.

“What is it?” he shouted at the door. The knocking paused only to be replaced with an even more annoying sound.

“Open the door, Chad.”

Rolling his eyes, he bounced off the bed and strode as calmly as he was able to toward the door. Reluctantly he turned the lock on the handle and door flew open from the other side. His mom stood beneath the frame in her best Happy Hour Get’em Gear. It was Thursday so she was probably looking for a new bed warmer.

“Nice to see you too.” she said to him sarcastically when Chad wasn’t able to hide the disdain on his face. “You and I need to have a little talk before I go out for the night.” Chad raised an eyebrow, trying to decipher what could possibly matter more than a Tequila Sunrise in her book.

“Since you are so interested,” she continued when Chad refused to speak. “I thought I’d let you know that your daddy is going to be moving back in.” Chad froze and the world gave out beneath his feet.

“What? But he’s in jail!” he said, and this time it was his mom’s turn to roll her eyes.

“Not for long, sweetheart,” she said, already getting mean. “Your daddy’s got a parole hearing coming up. He’s feeling awful optimistic about it too.” He leaned forward, poked him with a lacquer-chipped finger. “Says he’s really looking forward to getting to spend some time with his favorite boy again after all these years.” Chad thought he was going to be sick.

“No-no way,” he said, holding in the bile. She just smiled back at him, meanness painted on her lips as thick as the Corvette Red lipstick she liked to wear.

“’Fraid so, sweetcheeks. Better get used to it. Daddy’s coming home.” She turned around, not bothering to pay attention to her only son’s increasingly panicked reaction. She sauntered off down the hall, her cheap heels giving muffled clicks off of the worn carpet with each step.

Chad slammed the door behind her, leaned against it, his hands coming across his mouth as if he could hold the horror inside. Nononono. This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening.

He launched himself off the door, pacing the room in a tight horseshoe around his bed as he thought about what to do. He had no steady job. No steady friends he could rely on. Nowhere to run. There was only one person…

He grabbed his phone with shaking hands, pulling up Brad’s profile.

I need to see you. NOW.

-----

Brad had barely opened the door when Chad was barging his way into the older man’s apartment.

“Whoa! Hey there!” Brad said, steadying the young man as he careened into the apartment. Chad was swaying on his feet, a drunken lurch that was entirely uncharacteristic of his young lover. He leaned forward, pulling Chad into his stable arms and discreetly sniffed. Not even a whiff of alcohol.

“What’s wrong, Son?” he asked, soothingly, he palm running across Chad’s lower back. Chad didn’t pull back. If anything he leaned in harder.

“I need to fuck,” he said, his mouth around Brad’s shoulder. “Let me fuck you, Dad.” Brad pulled back enough to get a better look at Chad’s face, concern written all over his own. Eventually, he nodded, pried Chad’s arms from his torso and began to walk toward the couch. As he approached the over-sized cushions, he dropped his shorts, stepping out of them as he continued to walk. He bent over, smooth and graceful, his ass at the perfect height for Chad’s cock.

“It’s all yours, Son.”

The first thrust was brutal, a harsh shove that all but ignored Brad’s comfort. The older man grunted around the intrusion, willing his hole to relax and glad he had the foresight to prelube. Soon enough, nature, or at least Brad’s nature, did its work and the tight, painful thrusts shifted toward the smoother glides he was known for.

It wasn’t pleasurable for Brad, not in the traditional sense of the word, but there was a satisfaction in their coupling. He was providing a service and apparently a direly needed one at that. Occasionally, Chad’s thrusts would tickle his prostate, promising the potential for greater pleasures that he was certain would be denied him this time. No matter, this wasn’t about him.

As Chad drew closer to his orgasm, his grip on Brad’s hips tightened, and he pulled the older man back to meet each thrust. Brad fell back to his practiced breathing, letting the backdoor pummeling and the lightness of breath send him into a kind of fucked out zen state. A state of servitude. He was a hole. Nothing more, nothing less. He would be rewarded for his efforts, he was sure of that. And soon by the feel of things.

His estimations were right and with a shuddering cry, Chad was spilling inside Brad’s body. “Fuck! I love you!” he hissed, not even realizing he was saying the words until they were long gone from the rational part of his brain.

They did not go unnoticed and for one second Brad’s perfect sub self cracked and he tensed, before sliding back in the role. He reached behind where Chad was slumped on his back, trying his best to comfort the confused young man from the awkwardness of the angle.

“That’s it. Let it out,” he said, in his autopilot voice. When Chad finally rolled off his back to collapse onto the side of the couch next to him, Brad finally allowed himself to relax enough to sit up on the cushions, grunting a little as his sore muscles protested, and face the young man.

“Chad...we need to talk.”

-----

XI.

“I’m sorry, Dad I-”

“Chad.”

“-don’t know why I said that I didn’t-”

“Chad.”

“-mean anything by it I was just babbl-”

“Chad.”

Chad froze, a look of panic twisting his face but he willed himself to stop speaking already terrified of how Bradford was going to react after his accidental confession.

“It’s ok. I’m not mad. You feel what you feel.” A little bit of the tension released from Chad’s shoulders, a fraction of the whole, but there was something else wrong here.

“Ok, thanks Dad. Um, what-what did you want to talk about?” He watched as Brad stared at him, his pale eyes studying Chad as he accessed how to proceed. It was like having his skin peeled over and his organs pried apart.

“Chad. I think we need to cool things off for a while. We need to take some time to consider the future.” Chad blinked at Brad, confused.

“But...you just said…” Brad shook his head, and clarified.

“It’s ok to feel what you feel, but that doesn’t mean there are no consequences to those feelings.” He slid an inch closer, his hand resting on the younger man’s angular shoulder. “Chad. You’re not ready to be in love with a man like me. You’re not ready for this.” Chad veered back as if he had been slapped, Brad’s usual comforting touch now feeling like it burned.

“What are you talking about,” he snapped, some of the Bowers belligerence coming through. “I thought we always had a good time together. I thought you liked it?” He had done everything Brad had wanted, played every weird sex game, and now the older man was pulling this on him.

“We did, Chad. I did. But like is different than love. Love is complicated and you shouldn’t play fast and loose with it. I’m a submissive, but I don’t think you’re a dominant.” Chad’s eyes narrowed.

“What makes you say that? Didn’t I just fuck the hell out of you? Aren’t you always waiting on me hand and foot anytime I’m in the same room as you? That’s what you always say you wanted.” He could feel the panic being burned away by anger now and he clung to the flame as if he was trapped in a winter storm.

“Chad, what just happened isn’t the kind of dominance I need in a partner. You weren’t making conscious decisions. You weren’t doing anything for anyone’s benefit but your own. It was completely one-sided and reactionary.” He held up his hand to stop Chad from interrupting him.

“The rest is fun, but it’s not dominance. Not the dominance I’m looking for in a long term partner. You don’t want to take control of me. You just want me to take care of you and make you feel better.” Chad opened his mouth already feeling the denials on his lips, but Brad was faster.

“I’m not sure you actually want a dom/sub relationship, Chad. We’ve been meeting up for months and I’m always the one who initiates. Always.” His voice deepened again as he soured Chad’s affection with more uncomfortable truths.

“Have you actually taken any time to study d/s dynamics? Did you read up on what your responsibilities would be as a dom? Did you ever even watch a video about it that wasn’t porn?” Chad didn’t need to answer. They both already the truth.

“I think you just want to feel loved and I happen to do a good job at making it seem real. You’re always number 1 as soon as you set foot through that door. You have been since that first night.” Chad could feel the tears beginning to well up in his eyes as Brad continued to pour water on his fury.

“Chad. I’m your Dad, but I’m not your father. It’s not my job or my place to take care of you like that. I can’t build a relationship with a man who only wants me to be that. Do you understand what I’m getting at?” Chad nodded, mutely, understanding far too well.

“Is this...is this it?” he asked, graveyard quiet. Brad shook his head and shrugged.

“I don’t know. I just know that you got some things to figure out and I’m not sure I’m the right person for the job. I care about you. I could even come to love you, truly. But I need a man who is truly a dominant. Someone who is committed to the role and can match my needs. If things continue like this, I think we would just end up hurting each other.”

Brad leaned forward and pulled Chad into a tight hug that felt more crushing than affirming. The tears were flowing freely now, unbidden. When Brad pulled back, he wiped one away with his thumb.

“You’re going to be a great man, Chad. You’re going to make a man very happy. I’m just not sure if that man is meant to be me. I’m sorry, Son.” Chad pulled away, having had enough.

“I should go-” he said, looking everywhere but at the man who had just broken his heart. Brad’s hand grabbed his arm, halting the escape, for the moment.

“Chad, listen to me. I’m still here for you. You can still talk to me. I can still be your friend. Even be a confidante. I just can’t be in a committed relationship with a man who isn’t a dom. I’m sorry.” Chad nodded, humiliation running deep and bolted out the door, not even bothering to close it behind him.

-----

X.

The drive home was agony. The words, like tiny daggers, stabbed into his brain over and over again.

“I need a man who is a real dom.”

“I can’t be in a committed relationship with you.”

“You don’t know what you want.”

“You just wanted me to take care of you.”

“You never bothered to learn.”

He finally had to pull over, the kind-hearted confirmations echoing inside his head like the worst accusations in the world. He screamed and slammed a fist on the steering wheel over and over again, the car’s horn blaring across the highway. The rain had been pouring down steadily, but now it was slowly starting to clear as the minutes passed.

He treated me like a little boy. Handed me a slip and sent me packing without even giving me a chance. His hands gripped the steering wheel so hard he thought it might snap in two between his fingers. How dare he!

Barely glancing at the traffic, he pulled an illegal U-turn and headed back to the apartment building. He ignored the doorman, who stepped back startled at the snarling sight of the usually meek young man. If the concierge was around, she had wisely hunkered down until the tornado passed. He stared at the numbers on the elevator, rising like his blood was boiling. He slammed a fist on the door and when Brad opened it, clad in nothing but his shorts again, Chad barged past him and into the room.

“Chad, what are you-” Chad brought a hand up, pushing it down next to the door, which slammed shut with a shocking finality.

“No, I’m going to do the talking now.” His other arm came up on the other side, caging Brad in.

“You wanted me to be dom. Fine. I’ll be fucking dom.” He wrapped a hand around Brad’s throat and in a moment of instinctual self-preservation, Brad’s far stronger hands met his own to pry himself free, until Chad crashed their lips together hard enough to knock the back of Brad’s head against the door. Brad’s hands stilled and he slowly reached around to steady himself on Chad’s shoulders. When Chad pulled back from the kiss, his lips damp with their shared saliva, they stared into each other’s eyes, pale ones meeting darker irises. Chad licked his lips, sucking the shared flavor into his mouth and the tip of his tongue slid across a canine.

“Get on your knees, Dad.”

Brad continued to stare at him, accessing and for one brief moment Chad thought the older man would rebel, but then Brad’s true nature kicked into gear. His eyes softened and he slowly lowered himself to the ground with a quiet thump. Chad looked down, the blood of domination rushing to his head for the first time.

“Open your mouth, Dad.”

There was no hesitation this time, just the widening of facial muscles. Chad’s grin widened, feeding on the triumph. He placed both hands on the top of Brad’s head.

“I doubt I need to tell you this, but I’m going to face fuck you now, Dad. And you’re going to take every fucking inch.” He brought his dick forward, the head hovering at the gaping hole in front of it. “Ready, sub?”

“Yes, Son.”

Chad gave Bradford no quarter. He plunged his cock into the gaping maw straight to the hips in one thrust. Brad, always a good sub, didn’t so much as flinch. He simply relaxed his throat as well as he could, even tilting his head to improve the angle for Chad. Chad’s hands dug into the tight, gray haired flesh of his scalp as he began to face fuck his Dad.

With his Son’s balls bouncing off his chin and his vision clouded by the scratchy forest of a young man’s pubic hair, Brad could do little but hold on for the ride, his fingers clenching onto his own thighs to steady himself. His eyes watered at the strain, tears threatening to trickle down his face, but he didn’t blink. His gaze never left Chad’s face. He was Dad and he was going to make sure his Son knew he was always watching him.

Even Brad’s skills had their limits though and as Chad’s thrusting became more erratic, he began to test how well the older sub could control his gag reflex. One particularly well-aimed shove of the hips finally triggered a gagging fit, and Brad’s submissive tendencies fought a war against his body’s natural reflexes. Brad’s hands shot off his hips and grabbed Chad’s thighs fiercely, not to pull the young man away, but to hold him in place so he wouldn’t be denied his rightful gift.

Through it all, Brad blinked and streams of wet poured down his face. It was the first time he had cried in a long time and the only time in front of Chad, but the worst of the tremors subsided and Brad settled back into a state of sexual placidity.

“Look up here, Dad.”

Brad’s pale eyes shot skyward, the vision clearer now. The look on Chad’s face was positively devious, full of a sinful imagination he hadn’t seen from the young man up to this point. Brad felt his hole twitch, releasing a trickle of Chad’s earlier spend.

“I should keep you like this. Nothing but a cocksleeve to keep me warm at night.” He wiped away the tears from Brad’s face, licking the salt from his thumb. “I bet you’d love that, wouldn’t you, Dad.” Brad’s head nodded eagerly, bobbing up and down as much as he was able to constrained as he was. Chad’s stroked his cheek, almost gentle, as he continued.

“As much as I would love to fuck your face all night long,” he started, pulling his cock from Brad’s throat with a mighty withdraw, triggering a coughing fit from the older man. “I think I deserve some cunt. Go into the bedroom and get yourself ready for me. Call for me when you are ready. I expect the full company man treatment.”

He stepped back, giving Brad space to rise. He heard the older man mutter a quiet and respectful, “Yes, Son,” as he passed and then Brad was disappearing into the shadows of his sleeping quarters.

As soon as Brad was completely out of eyesight, Chad leaned back against the wall released a long held breath. He started to shake and crossed across the room toward the liquor cabinet. This dom thing was hard. Way harder than he thought. But that wasn’t the problem…

He downed a sip of a golden colored booze he couldn’t name, enjoying the stinging burn down his throat far more than he wanted to admit. He set the bottle back on the shelf, resting his head against it, as the liquor slowly calmed his nerves. He thought back to what had happened just a minute or so ago.

He had no plan when he charged back into Brad’s life other than to channel some kind of mystical dom energy Brad seemed convinced he lacked. He hadn’t thought about it beyond staying in the moment and trusting his instincts. It had taken nearly everything not to pull away and comfort the older man when he had first began to manhandle him and then something far more disturbing had happened.

He had begun to enjoy it.

When Brad gagged on his cock, he hadn’t wanted to pull away. He had wanted to make it happen again. He didn’t know what to make of that and wasn’t ready to process it. Not tonight. Not when there was still the main event ahead. As if on cue, he heard the steady voice from down the hall.

“I’m ready, Son.”

Chad took one last deep, steadying breath, swallowed deeply, and then walked towards his prize.

-----

XI.

The sight that awaited him in the bedroom nearly took his breath away. Perhaps sensing how momentous this occasion truly was, Brad had taken a few extra steps: candles on the dresser, a quiet rhythmic bass coming from a nearby speaker, but most of all he had dressed for the occasion. Bradford Meadows, disgraced CEO had undressed for the part.

He was wearing what was likely an expensive Oxford shirt, probably white, though it was hard to tell in the dim light. A long tie, thick and red was tied and hanging loosely around his neck where it draped over the picturesque mounds of Brad’s bare chest where the shirt lay partially unbuttoned, Brad’s flesh glowing invitingly under the candle flickers.

Brad’s Rolex gleamed expensively in the light, but that was as far as that ornamentation went. Traveling south, Brad was completely nude at the waist save a crimson cockcage shining like a scarlet letter on his groin. The pants, some form of dark navy trouser were crumbled at the foot of the bed, including the designer belt. The black, gold-toed socks had stayed, garters and all, a dark contrast to Brad’s paler skin. To finish the tactfully disheveled look, Brad had kept on a pair of black Oxford’s shined to perfection.

The image was like something from a white collar porno, the kind where the boss handed out bonuses by the load, and Chad’s dominant bravado cracked for a moment at the sight. He feared that sign of vulnerability would turn Brad off, but the sub only smiled, holding an inviting hand out.

“How do you want me, Son?” Brad asked him, in a sultry boardroom voice. Chad’s nostrils flared and he breathed in the potent musk of cedarwood, clean laundered sheets, and Bradford Meadows.

“Just like that,” he said, voice husky. “Spread those legs for me. Wide.”

Brad complied eagerly, hooking his ankles until they were nearly parallel with his head, an impressive feat for a man his age. His hole, fucked only an hour or so ago, puckered with a shiny film that may have been lube or may have been semen. Or perhaps, hopefully, both.

Trying to rein in his shaking limbs, Chad climbed onto the bed, his hard cock pointing toward Brad’s tender opening. This was normally the part where he would let Brad take over, but that wasn’t going to fly this time. Chad was the one who needed to steer this dominate ship.

He lined himself up, Brad’s hole zooming in closer and closer. As he leaned forward, he grabbed the placket of Brad’s shirt and attempted to rip the shirt apart only to lose his balance and collapse on top of the former CEO.

“Ah! Dammit!” he hissed, breaking character completely as he scrambled back onto his hands and knees. “I’m sorry, I didn-” his diatribe was halted by a finger to his lips. Brad looked up at him, his face still adoring but tempered with a calming, paternal concern.

“It’s ok, Son.” He brought the hand back to its place on his ankle. “Try again.” A pause, then an added, “Dom.”

With one word alone, the confidence slipped back inside Chad’s veins. This time he was ready. He could feel it running through him. With one mighty grunting heave, he ripped the rest of the buttons from the shirt where they bounced across the bedspread.

Below him, Brad grunted, nostrils flaring and his asshole winking. Chad shimmied into position, hard as he had ever been. He gripped the dangling tie, wrapping it around his finger like it was an executive leash.

“Hard or soft?” Chad asked, definitively.

“Hard.” No hesitation and Chad complied.

The cry that erupted from Brad’s mouth when Chad sheathed himself in one go started as a shriek and his legs came together on biological instinct, the oxfords clapping together with a leathery thumb, but as the dom began to thrust Brad’s cry morphed into a rumbling masculine laugh filled with a kind of mirth that could only be described as primal satisfaction.

The pace Chad set was punishing. Brad had asked for it and he was getting it. Using every ounce of his strength and the force of gravity, he propelled himself into his sub’s battered hole, shaking the bed with each thrust and pounding the headboard into the wall hard enough to make the framed pictures shake from their perches.

Sex with Brad was always good. How could it be anything but fantastic when Brad was involved? But this was different. Where before he had been lead along by Brad’s helping hand, here he was fully taking his pleasure the way he wanted to and in turn giving his lover what he desperately wanted. He wasn’t just fucking. He was fucking as his Dad’s Son, as his Sub’s Dom.

He heard Brad squeal beneath him, the shoe-clad feet quivered, and then a slow, constant stream of white liquid poured out of his Dad’s locked up cock. Chad grinned wildly, eating up the sight.

“You just came for me, Dad,” he hissed, having to time his breathing now. “I just made you cum like a bitch on my cock.” Beyond words, Brad only nodded frantically, not able to hide the pleasurable truth and cooing as his prostate continued to be pummeled.

“S-Son!” Brad panted beneath him, his eyes wide, toes curling inside his shoes. “It’s so good. You’re so good!”

He convulsed into another anal orgasm, his body going rigid even as Chad kept up the relentless assault. Brad’s hole gave up any pretense of struggle, yawning open like the trained orifice it was. Nasty, wet, sloppy fuck noises filled the space where their privates connected, echoing hedonistically in the room. Their shadows danced and flailed on the walls as Dad was cunted by Son. Chad never wanted it to end, but even a young buck dom had his limits.

“Fuck. I’m going to breed you. I’m going to breed you, Dad!!” Brad’s eyes shot open, wild and frantic in his sub haze.

“Yes! Do it! Do it! Do it, Son! Yes! Yes! YES!!”

Brad was overcome by yet another orgasm, his shirt and tie twisting around his convulsing body as his Son spilled his first truly dominant load inside his Dad. Orgasms felt good, but this was better. It was bigger somehow, bigger than pleasure, bigger than release. It was almost spiritual, like he and Brad had touched their own divinity. Dom Son pole filling his Sub Dad’s hole. Like it was meant to be.

Chad collapsed for real on top of Brad, who caught him in his embrace as easily as a proud father catches the ball his son throws to him in the front yard.

-----

XII.

Chad sat in the armchair, his back and arms sinking into the fine leather. His finger ran tight, lazy circles around the buffed stitching on the arm as he watched Brad go about his work. When Brad walked back over to him, clad only in his loafers, he set the glass down next to Chad.

“Here you go, Son,” he said, dropping to his knees between Chad’s spread legs. Chad raised the snifter to his lips, taking a sip of the top shelf brandy. It burned, but easier this time. He smiled as he set the glass back on the cork coaster.

“Thanks, Dad,” he murmured, running a thumb across his sub’s lips, who quickly kissed the passing digit. “I’m feeling kinda sweaty down there,” he added, his grin turning cheeky. “Why don’t you clean me up.” Brad nodded, pleased.

“Of course, Son.”

Chad sat back as Brad’s thick tongue passed over his flaccid prong, licking at every crevice and inch with loving devotion. This was the life. Below him, Brad paused in his oral explorations for only a moment to check in.

“How are you feeling, Son?”

Chad opened his eyes, staring around the living room. He had never seen it from this perspective before. Everything seemed so much smaller and yet more detailed all at once.

“Like a king on his throne.” He hissed in pleasure as Brad’s mouth covered his cock completely, and he said nothing more for a good long while.

Afterward, as he stroked his sub’s head, Brad, who was resting his cheek on Chad’s thigh, peered up, eyes full of contentment.

“You surprised me, Son.” Chad chuckled at that.

“Yeah, I bet. I’m surprised you didn’t kick me out.” He felt Brad’s lips curling on his skin.

“I thought about it, but something told me I should wait and see how things played out.” He planted another kiss on Chad’s flesh. “I’m glad I did. You were everything I thought you would be.” That piqued Chad’s attention.

“I thought you said I wasn’t a dom,” he challenged and watched Brad shake his head slowly to look up at Chad.

“I always knew you had a dom in you. Deep down, buried real deep underneath all of that insecurity.” He inhaled Chad’s scent. “I thought I would have to wait for you to find it. Years maybe.” He chuckled. “I figured some other man would end up snatching you up in the meantime.”

Chad pet Brad’s head, a master affirming his favorite pet.

“But here I am, right where I want to be.” He paused, as a hint of the old doubts set in. “You’re going to have to be patient with me sometimes, Dad. I’m not sure I’ll be able to be like I was all the time. It’s...sometimes it’s hard.” Brad looked up at him, his arms encircling Chad’s waist.

“I never wanted you to be anything other than what you are, Son. I love taking care of you like this too. Sometimes even Dad needs to tone it down.” He smiled. “But I can’t wait to see what else you have in store. I want to see what kind of man my Son grows up into. My true dom Son.”

Chad smiled down at him, leaned forward to kiss Brad gently on the lips.

“Does that mean we are official?” he asked, and whimpered when Brad returned his kiss, deeper than the last one.

“Let’s just say there won’t be any other boys coming over for visits anytime soon.”

Chad’s smile settled into a knowing smirk. That would do, for now. There was plenty of time to seal the deal for good. He had problems to settle at home too. Worries he didn’t want to burden Brad with. He needed to be a man and clean house.

But that could wait until later. Downing the rest of his drink, he said to his partner in a tired voice.

“I think I’m starting to crash, Dad. Ready for bed?”

He wasn’t asking if he could stay over. As far as they were both concerned Brad’s bed was his bed. Below him, Brad beamed, leaned forward again and pulled Chad to his feet.

“Let’s get you to bed, Son. Tomorrow is another busy day.”

He lifted Chad into the air, holding him up as he began to carry him toward their bedroom. Chad laughed, young and free, his legs instantly wrapping around Brad’s waist as Dad carried his Son to bed. Brad made his way slowly across the hall, both of them laughing, sweet-natured and ludicrous. Brad absentmindedly kicked the door closed behind him, where it latched into place, safe and secure.

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