Date: Mon, 19 Mar 2018 15:23:36 -0500
From: David Ashley
Subject: Conquering my friends' Dads Chapter 3

Sorry for the long wait. Here's a chapter to satiate you sick daddy fiends
out there.


If you enjoy my work check out my Tumblr and message me there. @ass-up-dads

The usual disclaimers apply. Work of fiction and fantasy, underage, no I
don't endorse such acts, etc etc.


Chapter 3


One of the great things about conquering my friends' dads was the freedom
of secrecy. I was fucking married men--straight men--who would lose a lot
if they were found out.


On the one hand it made it difficult to meet sometimes; Mr. Grayson's wife
started hosting her ladies parties at his place, making it more difficult
to fuck him. I still did, of course, but he protested more when I had to
walk through a living room of women to drop a load in his ass, and it got
annoying because I like making him moan or scream and he had to stuff his
fist in his mouth with the wives in the house. So I had to meet with him
less.


Mr. Cole was much more casual. He once asked me to fuck his son again, and
he set up a camera so he could watch it. The man blushed so adorably when
he asked how could I say no? So I railed his son again, something Andrew
had been begging for, and it was a real turn on knowing Mr. Cole was in the
other room watching and jerking off while I was here, adjusting Andrew's
face toward his computer's webcam and splitting him in half.


That kept Mr. Cole occupied for a few weeks. I discovered he recorded it,
when, the next day his wife and Andrew were out, I fucked Mr. Cole on
Andrew's bed while the video played.


Kinky fucker. But he didn't beg me like Andrew or Mr. Grayson, so I had
more chance to juggle the other dads in my life--and the ones that popped
up.


School was out for the winter holidays. I had made sure, on my last day of
class, to force an extra large load into Mr. Anderson's throat. He didn't
protest anymore--I knew he loved it, and he was scared of losing his job,
but the tears as I raped his throat were adorable. I even brought Dan along
that time.


"Your turn," I told my buddy after I finished.


Dan grinned. He leaned down, cleaning off any spunk from my dick that
Mr. Anderson had missed. Then he stood again, unzipping his own jeans.


I noticed that while Dan shoved his cock in Mr. Anderson's mouth, he made
sure to lower his pants down until the waistband was just under his large,
round ass. I admired the effect while he fucked our teacher's face.


One day, I would have to fuck Dan. When he was ready. Funny how I cared so
much about him being ready, when I had raped his dad and forced Andrew. I
obviously didn't care about waiting to get what I wanted. But with Dan, it
was just different.


"He's amazing," said Dan.


Mr. Anderson gagged.


Not having Mr. Anderson available, and blocked from Mr. Grayson's ass by
his idiot wife, I started my winter holidays with a lot of pent up
energy. My parents were still busy during the days. My mother worked for a
bank and the holidays were a busy time, and my dad was caught up in a
case. I made it till Tuesday before I did anything drastic.


My usual morning jerk wasn't enough. I glanced out my window, but it seemed
Mr. Cole's family was out, too, with no car in the drive. I determined to
do something--or someone--so I hit the gym.


With the school closed I had to visit the gym I attended in the summer. It
was out of the way, but cheap, which is why I selected it and why my
parents supported me going. I selected it for another reason, too: the
first time I went I discovered that the showers were large and divided--one
communal, which I liked to linger at to watch asses plump after exercise
get washed down, and one section of smaller private areas curtained off. On
one visit I watched two men enter an area together, pulling the curtains
behind them. I heard a few grunts but had to duck out of the communal
shower as I began getting hard.


I was smaller then, and shy. Today I was a different man--and hornier than
I could remember being in a long time.


Entering the gym I was disappointed. Only a few people were present,
scattered about on the machines. I had thought the holidays would bring
more men to the gym but could only spot one large man on a treadmill and a
black guy over by the weights. I wandered in this direction, thinking at
least I could maybe sneak a glance.


My muscle gains did not come by accident, and I still had a lot of pent-up
energy. Glancing once at the black man's glistening arms I dived into my
workout. I was soon lost in counting reps and feeling a soothing heat enter
my muscles. I kept it light, focusing on arms and chest, but I kept
occupied and almost forgot why I came. Almost.


"John?"


I looked up; the black man was grinning at me, and I blinked back. "Oh!
Mr. Johnson!"


It was no surprise, really, that I did not recognize him. I had only met
Mr. Johnson a handful of times, usually after team practices or meets. His
son Julian was a buddy of mine--tall, scrawny, but funny; Julian had been
one of the first to join the group around me at school, laughing at Dan's
jokes and assisting with homework. The kid was a nerd and frankly not that
great at soccer; I recalled him saying his dad wanted him to join a sport.


And I could see it, now. Mr. Johnson was huge. There's muscular, then
there's bodybuilders, then there's Mr. Johnson. Fuck. The man looked like
Terry Crews, but somehow bigger, and with a more handsome face. Even I felt
a shock of intimidation as Mr. Johnson stood to shake my hand. The man
towered over me.


"Wow. Good to see you," I said.


"And you," said Mr. Johnson. Had he spent time in London? The man had a
low, tilted accent. "I see you aren't slacking off over the holidays."


He gave me an appreciative sweep with his dark eyes. I cocked a
grin. "Can't, sir. Not if I want to be as big as you someday."


Mr. Johnson chuckled low. "Most of this is genetics. But I do wish Jules
had some of your drive. I'm glad he's spending time with you, he could
learn a few things."


Like how to fuck dads. I smiled. Until now, our conversation had been
perfectly polite, but I noticed Mr. Johnson's eyes linger a little too long
on my arms and my crotch. Thank God I had a semi to show off.


"I think Julian has the perfect teacher already," I said. I made my look
down Mr. Johnson's body more pronounced than polite. He was big. His tank
was loose and cut low, leaving little to the imagination. He either shaved
or did not need to, for his chest was immaculate and smooth, catching the
light in an almost perverse way. I wanted to add "damn!"


Mr. Johnson chuckled. "I'm just the dad," he said, turning to stow his
weights. I watched, staring lewdly at his massive ass. "I'm boring and he's
a teenager. He doesn't want to listen when I offer to teach him a few
things at the gym."


"Damn shame," I said. I was still soaking in the man's glorious
backside. My sweat now was not entirely from my workout, and I caught
Mr. Johnson's eye in the mirror watching me. "If you were my dad I would
listen to every word."


I have learned to be careful with my words when talking to dads I want to
fuck. On the surface what I said could be deemed respectful. Underneath, if
the dad was interested, he would sense my extra meaning.


I think Mr. Johnson did sense it. He turned and took half a step back, a
careful look in his face. "I wish my son were so assertive," he said, his
low voice careful. "I have a lot of respect for men who know what they
want, and say it."


A challenge? I couldn't read his face. I sidled closer, hoping I read his
meaning carefully. If he was interested, I had to be luckiest guy, running
into him at the gym just as I was dying for a hole to fuck. On the other
hand, I didn't have the luxury to fuck him anyway like I had Mr. Grayson. I
couldn't overpower Mr. Johnson, he would floor me, so rape was out of the
question.


Knowing fully that it was a risk, that I would either get punched or fuck
another of my friend's dads, I said, barely over a whisper, "Well, right
now I want a shower." And, even lower, "And I want to fuck that big black
ass."


Mr. Johnson stared. Then, right there, he removed his tank. I blinked at a
huge row of abs as he used his tank to wipe his face and head.


"I think I could use a shower too," he said.


Reeling, amazed I hadn't been hit and dazed at the ass in front of me, I
followed him.


I learned later that Mr. Johnson had never bottomed before. He knew he
liked having his wife fuck him with a strap on, but the only chance that
had come up with another man the guy had asked Mr. Johnson to put his
massive Johnson up his ass. I reflected it must be rough for black bottoms,
with fantasies and expectations getting in the way.


Not for me, it seemed. Mr. Johnson didn't say a word. He walked right into
the shower, directly to a curtained stall. I threw off my clothes and
followed after to see him already bent over, that beautiful black hole
curved up toward me.


"Fuck me, boy," Mr. Johnson said.


I didn't have lube so I did what any sane guy would. Getting to my knees I
gripped the man's huge glutes. I dived in hungrily.


Mr. Johnson responded with a growl. I pushed my tongue into his hole,
tasting the workout and sweat. He flexed his ass, and suddenly my face was
almost crushed by his firm, powerful ass cheeks.


"Fucking eat me boy," he said. "Eat my ass."


I'm a sloppy eater. My spit ran everywhere, but it did the trick, slicking
his ass and making it glisten. I could tell he wanted me to eat more, but I
was calling the shots.


"Arch your back," I said.


The man was so big it was hard for him to even fit in the shower. But he
obeyed, and his ass opened back up. I spit on my cock quickly and shoved it
in.


Mr. Johnson growled again, but this turned into a moan. The massive black
man beneath me transformed entirely. He was a big whore for my white boy
dick and I didn't hold back. I fucked him, my hips smacking against his
ass. I ran my hands along his muscular back, feeling every swollen bump and
touching his powerful neck.


"Fuck me," he gasped. "Fuck me, Fuck me, fuckmefuckmefuckme..."


I gripped his neck, squeezing it as a pounded into him. He squirmed,
thrashing a bit as I cut off his air, his huge hand pounding on the tiled
wall. I grinned as his wedding band caught the dim light of the shower. But
I didn't relieve his throat, keeping my hands on his neck, and I felt his
ass twitch around my cock.


Beautiful. Suddenly I heard a spatter on the tiled ground; the black whore
had shot a load. I released his throat and he gasped, shooting the rest of
his load--damn, it didn't seem to end--while I filled him from behind.


Choking my friend's black father was such a turn on, and I was so pent up,
I exploded soon after. As the big man shook beneath me, willing oxygen into
his lungs, I shot a huge load into his ass. Soon I was shaking with my own
orgasm.


I fell back against the wall. I wondered vaguely if he would turn and hit
me, throttle me for choking him. I didn't care, reeling as I was in the
beauty and force behind my load. I leaned there for a while, while
Mr. Johnson coughed and shook on the ground. Then he stood.


Without words, he turned on the shower. I felt the warm water on us. It
brought me back to life a bit. Opening my eyes, I watched as he leaned down
to me. Mr. Johnson pressed his big lips to mine, and gave me a deep kiss.


"Now let's get you clean," he said. "And please don't tell my son about
this."