Date: Thu, 4 Jan 2018 10:55:47 -0600
From: David Ashley
Subject: Conquering My Friends' Dads 1

Conquering My Friends' Dads


The first time was an accident. Well--it wasn't technically an accident.
But I certainly didn't plan on raping my best friend's father that day.


Maybe it was all the pent up energy. Puberty hit me hard and fast, like a
moving truck, but it only made me harder and faster in turn. I had just
barely turned fifteen. Already I was sprouting dark hair on my forearms and
was shooting up--inches every week, it seemed. I reached six feet before
any of my friends.


On top of that, my interest in soccer had been the polishing of puberty's
sculpture. I was big. My mother complained about having to constantly buy
me new shirts and pants to fit my swelling muscles. My father chuckled and
said not to bother--it'll all get stretched out anyway. He even suggested I
start to lift, and I was soon turning my bulk into something you wouldn't
be surprised to see on the cover of Men's Fitness.


It was strange to me, who for so long had been the smallest and thinnest
boy in my grade. Dad's job--he was a policeman when I was a kid, a
detective now--was steady, and he put time into the city to work his way
up, so we hadn't moved since I was in elementary school. As a result I knew
everyone in our suburb, it seemed, and I was the butt of jokes when I
wasn't entirely ignored, silent as I melded into the background. That all
changed the summer I turned fifteen.


In the course of a couple short months I was the tallest and strongest
sophomore at school.


And I gotta say, I loved it. My body came with some great attention. Some
of it from girls, but I discovered the strangest thing: girls were often
more intimidated than anything. I could tell they were attracted--almost
palpably so--but they kept their distance. Ironically, or perhaps not very,
the boys were the ones that wouldn't leave me alone.


"Damn John! Didja swallow a whole barrel of eggs or something?"


"Looking good bro, fuck you got tall!"


"I gotta know your secret, dude."


I was awash in compliments that bordered on the homoerotic. Maybe it was an
admiration thing. Maybe they wanted tips or to bask in the peripheral
attention. Maybe I was still remembered enough as the skinny quiet kid that
the other boys did not feel intimidated, but endeared.


At least, that was how Dan felt. He had been nice enough to me before, and
now he was attached to my hip: the first of many guys that seemed drawn to
me, and the leader of sorts of the crowd that formed.


Dan was a bit arrogant; another member of the soccer team, he had wavy
blonde hair that he kept trimmed short. He was nowhere near my size, but he
had a strong build in his own right. His shoulders were wider and his look
stockier. He was an all-American jock, really.


But he was hilarious. He was the first to point out the bizarre nature of
my change. We were in the locker room after my first practice, and he
tapped my chest and gestured to Brad, another teammate.


"Steroid use isn't a joke, bro," said Dan to me, but loud enough for the
room to hear. "Athletes all suffer from the temptation. Unless you're John,
of course, and you're built like a fucking brick house just naturally."


This elicited chuckles from the rest of the team. Brad scowled. He was a
senior and proud of his body, but noticeably shorter than I--and even less
sizeable in the muscle department.


Dan didn't know I was gay--nobody did. Hell, I wasn't entirely sure
myself. I had sex once with a girl last year, before my growth spurt, and
it was okay. But I was starting to stare a bit much at my math teacher's
open shirt. I trailed my gaze a little too long at his perky ass.


I realized quickly that men turned me on. Not just guys--my teammates were
plenty attractive, and I got a few strong hard ons watching Dan's ass
bounce or Brad's chest fill out his jersey. But I was into men. Not just
slimmer guys like Mr. Anderson and the hairy chest that sprouted from his
open collar when he pointed out an equation at the board, but men like my
coach and his beefy build got my cock raging.


Again, I think it was all the pent up hormones, the puberty acting on me
and my body like every inch of me was a sex organ--which it was, in a
way. But I had to try it out, try out another guy. I was afraid if I didn't
I would do something rash. It's hard to be satisfied with just imagining a
friend's father while you jerked off when your whole body was a
testosterone machine. I needed to fuck a guy and I needed it soon before I
just forced Mr. Anderson's mouth over my cock--just up and pulled him down
after class one day. My fantasies were getting more and more brutal the
longer I went without real sex.


Dan seemed the perfect guy to experiment with. The guy already adored me.


I got us going after school, at his place. Dan started inviting me over
after practice. He didn't live far from the school and his place was
nice. We would eat and play video games or just sit in his basement and
chat.


Mostly when we talked I listened. Dan had a lot to complain about--his dad,
usually. He was getting pressure from his dad to think about schools,
particularly his own old law school, so I gathered. I was barely keeping
focus, though.


Whenever Dan mentioned his father I was in another world, because while Dan
saw a tyrant attempting to turn him into a lawyer I saw other things--the
carefully cut suits, for instance, and the way they hugged his ass. I had
met Dan's dad in passing a couple times and instantly got a chubby each
time. That very day he had been in the kitchen, turned away, a perfect
round globe of daddy ass staining at his suit plants. Dan droned on, but I
interrupted him.


"Bro, do you ever jack off?"


It was abrupt and even rough, but it got his attention. "Yeah," he said,
without a pause.


"Nice," I said.


"What's that mean?" He laughed.


"Means nice," I said. "Means I think jacking off is hot. You got any
favorite porn videos?"


It was remarkable. I heard my own words like they were from someone
else--bolder than I had ever spoken before. But they had the desired
effect. Perhaps it was my new role as an alpha, but Dan didn't question
it. If the thought of him jacking off was hot, who was he to question it?
And that dumb, blonde jock in front of me pulled out his phone, eager to
show his favorite video (a pov of a girl choking on a huge cock).


I told him to take out his cock and jerk himself, and he did, looking a bit
uncomfortable. Dan had wide blue eyes--his father's eyes--that looked at me
in the cutest way, begging for approval. I undid my pants, noting with
satisfaction that I was much bigger in the cock department, too. Dan's
lovely eyes widened at my ten stiffening inches.


Before long we were jacking it together every day after school, and I
convinced him to jack me at first, then I got him to blow me--which he
always cut off quickly, laughing nervously.


It was hot, but it moved too slowly for my taste. I wanted to fuck and I
could tell Dan wasn't entirely comfortable yet with what we were doing. But
one day his dad came home early, and things changed.


Dan had his mouth on my cock that day. He was more confident this
afternoon, and licked the head with more interest than before. I was
getting into it, barely resisting forcing my entire length down his
throat. I didn't hear the basement door open but I heard the footsteps
coming down.


We pulled apart, Dan standing up as though to put distance between us, all
absurd panic. I pulled my jeans over my dick, but I didn't have time to zip
or button up.


"Dan--I need some help bringing things in," said Dan's dad. Then he stared,
and I thought he had noticed his son's dart across the room.


"Sure Dad," said Dan, moving to the stairs. He mopped his forehead but
didn't look back.


"Can I lend a hand, Mr. Grayson?" I said.


Dan's dad looked at me. I wondered if he put two and two together. What
would he think if he knew his son had been sucking my dick?


I suddenly wanted to find out. To help him, I slowly zipped up my jeans,
remaining seated on the couch. I didn't take my eyes off the man as I did
so. Something perverse in me wanted him to suspect, wanted him to know that
I had just been getting a blow job from his son.


"N-no, that's okay, but thank you John." Dan's dad looked me over.


In that minute I knew it--I could tell--he wanted me. I knew it
instinctively, in the same way I had known that Dan would follow my
commands, that he would suck my cock. Dan's dad had some latent
homosexuality in him, and he wanted me.


I stared back, and I wanted him too. God how I wanted him. He was not just
handsome--the man was hot. I looked at every line, every wrinkle on his
face and guessed by the crow's feet he was in his mid forties. Built like a
stereotypical suburban dad, on the one hand, with light brown hair in a
modest cut and gray temples, clean-shaven and strong-chinned. On the other
hand I could tell he took good care of his body. He was the lean type. His
shirt was tight around a well-crafted chest and tucked cleanly into slacks
that hugged his thighs and ass. Damn. What a fucking man.


I had to fuck him.


Like I said, this first time I fucked one of my friend's dads wasn't my
fault. I was really, really horny, I was blinded by my own body--and so was
everyone else--and I could tell, on some level, that Dan's dad wanted me.


"You've been working out?" he said, lingering by the basement stairs. Those
blue eyes swept over me.


I grinned, and I swear he almost swooned. "A bit," I said. "Your son's been
a big help."


"Oh?"


He paused, and in that moment I saw a flash of pride for his son. Then it
wavered into suspicion.


"How has he been--?" Dan's dad said, but I got up in answer. My heart
thumping, I slid the zipper of my pants back down.


"You really want to know? I could show you," I said.


Mr. Grayson stared, his mouth falling open. I could see it working on
him. The knowledge that his son was upstairs, running groceries from the
car to the house. Probably thinking of his wife and when she would be
home. I watched this in his lovely blue eyes, behind that modest haircut. I
watched this dad, this older, verile man, stare at my crotch and I got
hard. My cock filled, swelling bigger and harder than I had ever felt
before. And Mr. Grayson stared at it.


"Uhh--I, ah--"


I knew he would be coerced. Knew I would fuck him. There were just a few
things in my way. I was fifteen, for one--hardly legal. And he was
married. I could see his wedding band on his shaking left hand. What a sexy
hand that was--rough and hairy the way a man's hand should look. And of
course I was his son's friend.


I was certain he would give in. My cock throbbed, bouncing at him.


"John," he said.


I was very close now. I couldn't help it. I was staring at that five
o'clock shadow on his lips. I kissed him.


He kissed me back immediately, and I knew I had him. But I was
surprised. He pulled back.


"What the hell are you doing?" Mr. Grayson backed away. Whatever lust he
had just shown was gone, covered in shame and long-sleeved shirts and old
spice cologne. "The fuck is wrong with you?"


This wasn't what I had in mind. Like I said, I hadn't planned on raping my
best friend's father that day. But it was too late now--my cock was out, I
was hard as hell, and I wanted him. So I did something very desperate and
very fucked up.


I shoved him against the wall. At the same time I shoved my fingers into
his mouth--god damn, his mouth was hot--and I smothered his cries. I was
bigger than him, stronger by far, and I wrestled him silently until he had
slid to the ground and I was on top of him, crushing him with my weight.


"Shut up," I said in his ear. "Shut up you sexy fucker. Sexy fucking
daddy." I kept one hand on his mouth, letting his saliva get all over my
fingers as I said things I'd never said--never thought. "Just be quiet."


That first time I was sloppy. I didn't know what I was doing, had never
raped anyone before, had never even fucked a man yet. I would learn how to
properly coerce a grown man into sex later, would learn the importance of
flirting and foreplay and eating his ass and the pleasure of filling his
throat with my cock.


But that time--the first time--I rushed. I had to. I needed to fuck and I
needed this grown dad's ass. So I crushed him into the floor, muffling his
moans and cries as I pulled down his pants with one hand, keeping my knee
on his back. His ass appeared before me like a gift from god. It was huge,
taught, and delicious-looking. I got sloppier.


I'm not proud of what I did next. But I still don't regret it. I whispered
in Mr. Grayson's ear what I was going to do, telling him I'd kill him if he
struggled or screamed. Then I gripped his tie and pulled it tight around
his neck, finally moving my wet, slimy, saliva-filled fingers from his
mouth.


As I knew he would, the man shut up. This dignified older man did not
speak, but sniffed, tears falling down his face as I tightened the
necktie. I moved my wet hand to his ass.


"Please--please stop."


"Shut up."


He whimpered. He cried. I watched the tears fall. I felt my fingers slip
into his hole, wet it, loosen it. He was tight. So very tight. The grown
man, father and husband, had never been fucked before.


Well, there was a first time for everything, and I was about to pop a grown
man's cherry.


"You know you want this," I said.


He sobbed. Then I forced my cock inside him.


Nobody could have stayed silent for that, and Mr. Grayson gasped and
cried. He would have screamed if I didn't tighten my grip at his neck.


My cock head was barely inside, but it wasn't enough. I spit on my dick and
pushed more. His hole opened up. I found out later about how some men were
able to almost lubricate themselves. Mr. Grayson had a wet hole. But it was
resisting, and I had to wrestle with him again to push the next inches in.


What a sight! My fifteen-year old, oversized cock was stuffing itself into
the tight hole of my best friend's father! It felt incredible, and I nearly
lost myself.


I plowed into him, feeling my powerful body rage. I was whispering to him,
and he sobbed into the carpet as I removed his shirt. He was virtually
naked beneath me now, and I forced his beautiful muscular back into an
angle as I pushed the full length of my cock--all ten inches--into his
protesting hole.


The whole rape didn't last long, I knew, but somewhere between his cries
and gasps I heard him sputter something.


"Stop. Please. Stop--d--" he gasped. "Don't. Don't stop. Fuck me," he
begged.


I knew it. I knew he wanted it. I loosened his tie but he was curling up in
ecstasy now. I felt his ass buck up to meet my cock.


I didn't last long. As soon as I realised that Dan's father was bucking,
fucking himself on my cock, I was ready to burst. I was yelling something
profane, nearly screaming, and I came, punching an enormous load deep into
his daddy bowels. I shot spurt after spurt into him while he cried "Yes!
Yes!"


That's how Dan found us. I don't know how long he was watching. I noticed
him only after coming down from my orgasm, my massive legs shuddering and
twitching into his father's back and sides. I blinked at him.


"Your dad has a great hole," I said.


As if this were normal. As if we were just friends comparing notes. Below
me, Dan's dad whimpered. He sniffed. I had knocked his chin hard into the
carpet, and it was bleeding. But as I watched him get up I noticed the huge
puddle of cum beneath him--he had shot his own load, too. Hands free. The
sick fuck.


I pulled up my jeans. Dan stared from his pathetic father to me, unable to
speak. Finally he said, "Did you--did you just fuck my dad?"


From the floor I heard Mr. Grayson sob again. Dan gave him a look--he
looked on his father with disgust.


I shrugged. Then I said, "See you tomorrow," and I walked past him.


I went up the stairs. In the kitchen I passed Mrs. Grayson. I greeted her
and walked calmly out the front door.


Dan never mentioned it. At school he acted the same way as ever. I knew he
was annoyed--he refused to discuss it--but I also knew, somehow, he wasn't
actually annoyed with me. He stopped complaining about his dad,
though. Perhaps he saw something there, saw him as something no longer to
be feared or respected. Had they discussed it? What could he have said? But
Dan pretended it had never happened.


I didn't stop asking Dan for blow jobs, though. I'm sick that way. But he
gave them, gladly, and we stayed close friends. Best friends,
even. Something had happened between us that got us closer. I still hung
around at his place and played video games and ate and chatted. I felt like
I had conquered more than just his dad that day--I had conquered Dan, too.


I didn't think I would get a chance at his dad again. I even was worried a
bit--the man was a lawyer, after all. The next time I saw him was a couple
weeks later, in their kitchen again.


I expected a problem. Tension. But he gave me the biggest smile. "Hey
there, John. Good to see ya."


Dan gave his dad an annoyed look, then said he had to grab something from
his room. I nodded, barely hearing. Then Dan's dad winked and me and I
followed him into his own room. The room he fucked his wife in. In seconds
I was inside him again, and he was begging me no then begging me yes.


I fucked him every chance I got. I would meet his dad in his room, in their
shower, in the basement. When Dan wasn't around I came over. I was lucky
Dan's mom worked late. Once I even fucked Mr. Grayson during dinner, in the
bathroom, while Dan and his mom were at the table in the next room.
Mr. Grayson was my first dad, and I fucked him almost every day that first
semester. I sometimes got a sick pleasure in knowing that while Dan's dad
was screaming and begging beneath me, Dan was in the next room, listening
to me rape his father again.


He wasn't my last piece of daddy ass, though. Word started to spread among
the suburban men of the town, but I can't begrudge Mr. Grayson his kiss and
tells. It led to a lot of daddy ass.


Like I said, I didn't mean to. It just happened, and I'm not proud of
raping the guy. But I don't regret it.