Date: Thu, 22 Apr 2021 12:58:53 -0500 From: David Ashley Subject: Conquering My Friends' Dads Chapter 6 Conquering 6 So I know it's been a long time. Most of you probably gave up looking for an update, and I, too, thought I wouldn't return to this story. I can't promise how quickly I can update with new chapters, but I will try. As I no longer use my Tumblr, if you have any interest in contacting me, you can at bupdash [at] gmail.com I certainly enjoy watching John and his perverse adventures. If you're in it for more, he's at his soccer team's Christmas party and just had his first real experience with incest, fucking both Mr. Cole and his son together. The usual disclaimers apply. Work of fiction and fantasy, underage characters, incest, no I don't endorse such acts. Chapter 6 Mr. Grayson and his family's enormous house was largely quiet upstairs. From below I could hear the music and voices of the party, and from behind I could still hear the low voices of Mr. Cole and his son issue through the door to the dark hall. They murmured to each other, relishing the mind-blowing, incestous sex they had just had, and perhaps gearing up for round two. Just to be nice, I made sure the door was locked as I left. They might be perverted, but hell, so was I, and if they were found out it wouldn't be because of me. Taking a few deep breaths--damn, had I really fucked twice that night? My legs were shaking, but I knew my teenage hormones weren't done--I finally headed downstairs. I made sure my parents and others saw me, passing through the main rooms and saying hi to a few people. In the kitchen, I once again ran into Mrs. Cole. "Did you find them?" she said. Her voice was more slurred than ever. "We need to go soon, I dunno how long I can keep on my feet." "I didn't, sorry," I lied. "But I'll keep my eyes open." She frowned, but at that moment I saw Dan, hovering at the doors to his backyard. Maybe cold air would do me good. I skirted the counter and Mrs. Cole to join him. "Hey," said Dan. Their backyard was as nice as the rest of the house. Some distance away was a fire pit, and it looked like someone had lit a fire; the light played against the shapes of my coach, my team, and their sexy dads. Truly a vision; I could see why Dan was watching. "You good?" "I'm great," I said. I couldn't help bragging. "Just fucked Mr. Cole." Andrew too, but I chose not to include that detail. Dan cocked an eyebrow. "Mr. Cole? Jeez, nobody turns you down, do they?" "We'll have to test that," I said. "Hey, is Brad still around?" Dan's expression darkened. "Yeah, and it's worse. Turns out he didn't just fuck Derrick's girlfriend. She went and cried to her friend, and turns out Brad's been screwing around with a bunch of the team's girls." "What an asshole." "And he's still here. Bold as fuck." Dan nodded over his shoulder. "Back inside. Still letting his dad hog the spotlight." Brad's dad was, indeed, just visible in the other room. He was surrounded by people, most of them women; wives, mothers, and the occasional team girlfriend. After all, he was a celebrity. At once the final piece of my plan clicked into place. "Perfect. Listen--I have an idea." Dan listened. And he liked it. And, as I knew he would, he agreed to help. What a stud. Maybe next time I make Dan suck my cock I'd give him some head, too. Dude's earned it. Once again I headed inside. I saw Brad right away, standing by the food. Excellent. Remember, I'm no monster. I can give him a last chance. "Hey, man," I said. In another life I might have had a crush on Brad Vane. He was everything I liked in a guy--hot, mostly, and cocky. He emulated his dad's boyish looks, never far from a smirk. He had blonde hair, a butt-shaped chin with a deep dimple, and wide-set shoulders that made him look more muscular than he really was. In reality (after all, I knew how to look surreptitiously around a crowded locker room) Brad was rather slim. He was the type that had shot up early, gaining height, and taking longer to fill out. Longer than me. The guy hated that I was more muscular than he. But he had learned to hide it, flashing a strained grin my way. "Hey," he said. I leaned in, letting him feel the heat on my body--and smell my testosterone. A casual skill I had picked up seducing grown men. "Listen, man," I said, "I heard about you messing with Derrick's girl." "I don't know what you're talking about," said Brad. His hackles were raised, and he was immediately defensive. I wanted to laugh. "Hey, I get it. It's nice to get the attention. I'd imagine--your dad's Arnie Vane, right?" I nodded at the man, just across the room. "Famous. Probably gets plenty of girls. You have a lot to live up to." "Fuck off. You don't know me." But he kept his voice low, and there was that flash of fear in his eyes. He didn't want to challenge me, knew he wouldn't win--and, apparently, didn't want his dad to hear. I had struck a chord. I continued, keeping my voice low and making as if to pour myself a drink. "I'm just saying I get it," I said. "But you can't go and shit where you eat. These are your teammates." "Whatever, man. You can't lecture me." "You won't keep away from anyone's girlfriend?" I nodded back to the room. "Isn't that your girlfriend over there?" Leanne. Pretty enough, she sat with a few other girls, giggling at one of Arnie Vane's jokes. And now Brad was really pissed. "Hey, you tell her, and I swear I'll--" "Calm down. I'm not saying anything. Just seems shitty to me." "You're shitty. Fuck off." And he was gone. I smiled to myself. I would have enjoyed fucking Brad over anyway, but how sweet of him to make this easier on me by removing all guilt. Step One. "Hey, Mr. Vane," I said. "Oh, hey." Arnie Vane's voice bounced at me. He was a little tipsy, which was perfect for me. "Listen," I said, "I think they're out of wine, Mr. Grayson asked me to get some. And, you know--I'm underage, my dad would kill me if he saw me even holding a bottle." Mr. Vane laughed. "Well, your dad IS a cop." "Right. The Graysons have a wine cellar downstairs, would you mind getting one? Probably better you do anyway, I have no clue what would be good to grab." Again, Mr. Vane laughed. He clapped a hand on my shoulder. "No sweat, kid. Oh--damn, you should show Brad a few things, that's a hell of a shoulder." "Thank you, sir." And he turned. I watched a very pert ass peeking from under his suit coat, his pants hugging it tightly. Yep, I would really enjoy fucking that man. But this time would take some delicacy. I knew, if it came to it, I could force him, but I really would rather not take risks. No, Brad's dad had to be persuaded. Coerced just right. And if I was right, as I had been so far, the man was straight. I could smell it. 100% straight, not curious, the way most of the men I'd fucked had been. Of course, that would not last; I had not failed yet to turn my targets into cock pigs. But until my dick was inside him, I had to be careful. Normally I would MAKE him curious. Make him think it's all his idea. Make him realize that all the pride and expectations he had in his hot, muscular son came from more than just fatherly affection. But I had about ten minutes. So: Step Two. Tap, tap. "Hey. Leanne?" She looked at me. Blushed. But she followed my discreet nod into the hallway. "Yeah?" I made sure Brad wasn't looking. Then I handed her a folded-up note. "You know Arnie Vane? Sorry, Mr. Vane?" She blushed again. "Brad's dad." "Oh, right. I forgot you're dating. Well, he told me to give this to you." Leanne's eyes passed over the note. Damn, this girl was REALLY red now. "Did you read this?" she said. "Hm? No. Just passing it on. Trying to be helpful." A little innocent smile. A slight raise of my brow. And she believed me. It's a shame I had no interest in girls, they seemed really easy. Leanne nodded, and I could see her mind working. "Okay. Um. Thanks," she said. "Did you see where he went?" "I think downstairs. He said something about needing to grab more wine, so I think he went to the cellar." "Okay. Thanks." And she was off. And I ticked a few minutes in my head. While I waited, and sipped a little punch, my eyes found Brad again. Really, what a shame I was about to break this guy. What a stupid, cute smile. Beyond him my parents were deep in conversation with my coach. They'd be busy for a while. Step Three. I headed downstairs. It was almost fitting that I was heading to the place I first fucked--well, raped--Mr. Grayson. Damn, I had probably fucked in every room in this house, almost. I crossed the basement quickly. It was empty, as the party was supposed to stay on the main floor, but the light of the wine cellar was on. As I knew it would be. Before I opened the door, I raised my phone, switching to the camera. Then I stepped inside. "Mmm!" What a sight. A very interesting sight. Brad's dad was there, all right--and there was Leanne. On her knees. With a surprisingly long, grown man's cock in her mouth. I snapped a picture. "Oh. Wow," I said. "Hey there, Mr. Vane." Brad's dad turned a shocked face my way--a face that paled immediately with fear. As I watched, Leanne slowly removed her mouth from Mr. Arnie Vane's cock. Her eyes were wide with terror. Well, this was going to be a lot easier than I had thought. See, I had hoped that I would catch her making a move on Mr. Vane. Maybe touching his arm flirtatiously. Plenty to work with there, plenty to threaten to tell Brad about. But Leanne was in my grade. She could not be any older than myself. And Mr. Vane actually going for it? I had never expected to be so lucky. Truly, like father, like son. "You should probably go," I said to Leanne. She did. Standing, adjusting her dress, she fled the wine cellar. Meanwhile Mr. Vane stood frozen, his softening dick still sticking through his zipper. "Sorry for interrupting," I said. "Ah. Um. Look, it's not what--um." Mr. Vane swallowed. "It's not? You weren't just letting a fifteen-year-old girl suck your cock?" "No, I--" "Hey. Relax. Honestly, congratulations," I said. I extended my hand. He stared at me, as if he could not believe how calm I was. Slowly he took my hand, shaking it. I did not let go, however. "So. Leanne." "Y--yeah." He really was cute. Like I had said, a young Chevy Chase. He had his son's butt-shaped chin, with that really prominent dimple. Boyish face turning red, eyes wide and fearful. So, so straight. For now. "Calm down. I'm not going to my dad. You know, the cop." I grinned, still holding his hand tight. "And I won't go to Brad, either." "You won't?" "At least, I don't want to. I don't want to be the one to tell a guy his dad is fucking his girlfriend." He issued a long breath of relief. "Please, kid, I'll do whatever you want. I can't have this get out. Can I--can I cut you a check, maybe?" How cute. He thought I wanted money. One hand still tight on his, I raised my phone in the other to show him the photo. He winced. "What do you want?" My phone went back to my pocket. Then, with both hands, I held his. He tried to pull away, but I held tight, running a thumb along his knuckles. "You have great hands, Mr. Vane." "I--thank you, but--look, I--" "Honestly I'm jealous of Brad. I wish my dad was so... open. You know, about sex." "Kid?" "A dad who doesn't have qualms about two consenting people. Adults. Or minors. Like me." It was starting to register. Behind his eyes it clicked into place, and it was fun to watch. I had to relish it. This was a straight man, without any interest in gay sex. Normally, the revelation of "This guy wants sex" would never be met with relief. But I had managed the near-impossible: I made him think of gay sex as a pleasant alternative. That was my opening. His cock still hung from his open zipper. I took it. Impulsively, he moved to recoil. "Kid, I don't--" "You're still hard." He was not--not really. But under my hand, he was getting there. And he believed me. Enough to make a question appear in his face. Do I want this? it asked. "Don't kid yourself," I said. I tugged a little. "Man. You're getting into this. You really are a perv, aren't you? Into little girls. And now, into an underage boy." "I'm not--I'm not gay." "Sure, man. Look, I don't see why you're so upset. I'm giving you what you want. Or I can go upstairs with my phone." And there it was, almost better than the expression a man gets when he cums: acceptance. The knowledge that this was going to happen. Mr. Vane's brow furrowed, and he almost smirked at me. "You know this is rape, kid? You're forcing me into sex under threat. Blackmail." He was rock hard now. "Can a minor rape an adult?" I said. "I should check with my dad." "You're really fucked up." "You were letting your own son's girlfriend suck your cock. Who is really fucked up here?" I grunted a laugh. "Because I think it's you." I removed his coat, and slowly began unbuttoning his shirt. "No." He had a slim build, but he was furry. So, so cute, especially on top of those movie star good looks. Nothing quite like blond chest hair sticking through a shirt. And wow--those nipples were enormous. Almost as hard as his cock. I took one of them in my mouth. He moaned, and tried to pull away, but my hand was solid on his cock. "Tell me," I said, as I shifted to the other nipple, "why Leanne?" "Wha--" "It's because she's dating Brad, huh?" "I don't--" "Get on your knees, perv." He did. He hated his own hunger. I saw it. But he opened his mouth, licking his lips before I had even opened my pants. "What you really want is your son's dick, don't you?" "What? No, fuck no, I don't--" "Suck my dick. Yes, you do." I pushed my hard dick--still, frankly, ripe with the juices of Mr. Cole's ass--into his mouth. That was it. I knew I had him. I watched it change on his face as the texture of my cock worked against his lips and tongue. He moaned again. It was very feminine. How cute. This straight man had a cocksucker buried--very, very deep down. It was rising up, to his own horror. I did not have to move; he pushed his lips further down my shaft, desperate to get more of me in his mouth. "Good job," I said. "Fucking perv." He moaned louder. "You went after Leanne's pussy," I said. "Because you know your son's cock was in there." He was breaking. His face was red, and tears leaked from his eyes. He thought what I was saying was true--so it was becoming true. He gagged, but I had more inches to shove in, so as he sobbed I pushed further. At last he pulled away, gasping. "Oh, kid." "You like it, huh?" "I--I think--no, I'm straight." "A little more," I said. He sucked more. I watched a bead of precum fall from his cock. He gasped again. "I can't. I can't believe I'm doing this. I'm straight." "I know." "I'm straight," he repeated, before returning his lips to the head of my cock. They sucked, lovingly. Another gasp. "I'm straight." "But you like this." "Fuck." "You like this." "No." "You do." "Fuck. Why the fuck do I like this?" "Because you're a proud dad. You want my cock." "Yes," he breathed. "Jesus Christ. I don't--I do. I love it." "You wish this was Brad's cock." "I--no, I--" "A little more." Amazing. He was getting good, desperate for more inches. He moved his tongue to my balls. "You wish this was Brad's cock." "No! I'm not a perv, I--" "More." His eyes were so disgusted with himself. His jaw quivered. All at once, he spat my cock back up. "Please," he said. "Please don't make me do this." "Make you do what? Suck my cock? Or make you realize that you always wanted this?" Phone again. I waved it at him. "Your choice. But you like this." "I hate you." "I know. And you love my cock." He didn't answer, but his lips took me inside him once more. His desperation grew. His tongue lapped at my shaft. "You wish this was Brad's cock." "Fuck you." "You wish this was Brad's cock." "Yes." He broke again. More tears. Christ, what a sissy. "Shh. It's okay, you old perv. It's okay. Take more of my dick. It's okay. I know you wish Brad was like me." "God. Yes!" I had him. Everything I said, he accepted. My cock is like that, I guess. All men break. All men, every single one, no matter how straight. Given the right circumstances, every man can end up a whining, begging, pleading cocksucker. ESPECIALLY dads. "But Brad's not good enough, is he?" I said. "No." "Brad couldn't give you this. Give you what you want. That's why you hate him." "I hate him. I hate you. I hate him." "Who's better?" "You. Oh dammit, you." He gagged on my cock, pulling it into his throat and immediately having to withdraw. He was clearly inexperienced, but the man was determined. "Ugh. This is sick. Mmm. I wish..." "Say it." "Mmm--!" I think I had timed this right. I shifted, making sure my back was to the door. I removed my shirt, letting my ripped torso hit the dim cellar light. Arnie Vane moaned more as he looked up at me. Broken, desperate, he wanted my body. He loved how I looked, wished his son looked the same. He ran his hands up to my chest. "What do you wish? What do you want to call me?" I whispered. "Son," he said. "I wish you were my son." He was realizing it himself. "Again." I heard the door behind me. His mouth was full of cock, but he pulled away to kiss it lovingly. "Son. Oh, Son. Good boy. I want your cock. I wish you were my boy. I love it, I want more, I--" It was enough. I pushed my cock back in Mr. Vane's mouth and let him gag. I was close. "What the--" I grinned as I turned. "Oh, hey Brad," I said. "What are--DAD?!" What great timing. I exploded on Mr. Vane's face, just as his eyes met his son's. I've learned a few things, fucking dads. The first I learned is that most of them are starved for sex. Most of them need more than their wives provide, and need it badly. The second was that, by and large, a dad is secretly submissive. Perhaps it's all that expectation: he wants to be dominated--needs to be dominated--by a younger man. But one of the biggest things I learned was that familial duty stopped when my cock was in front of them. Whether it was Mr. Grayson, begging me for my dick in the bathroom while his son is on the other side of the wall, or it was Mr. Cole wanting the cock that had ruined his son, or Mr. Johnson comparing my body to his own kid's. These were reasonable, responsible men who changed when presented with an adequate penis. And mine was more than adequate. Brad locked eyes with his father, and somewhere in Mr. Vane's brain he wanted to protect his son. Somewhere he wanted to pull away, to stand up and be a man for his boy. But then my cum hit his face. And Mr. Vane caved. The parent--the father--was gone. Ignoring Brad completely, Mr. Vane stuck out his tongue. A face of desperation, hunger for every drop of me he could catch. He whined and moaned and licked and swallowed. When he had caught everything he could he mopped up his face with his fingers, pulling every bit of my seed into his mouth. It was repulsive, frankly. And so hot. Brad was forced to watch his broken father savor every drop of my cum. And I watched, gleefully, as Brad crumpled. "Dad. Dad, what are you doing? Dad?" He stepped into the room, shutting the cellar door. He made as if to pull Mr. Vane away, but I squeezed my shaft, and a few more drops fell out. Brad may as well have been invisible. Mr. Vane pulled away from him, shook his own son away, as he slurped up the new drops. He savored them in his mouth before swallowing. "I'm inside you now, Daddy," I said. "Oh son." Arnie Vane looked up at me, new tears leaking out of his eyes. His dick was quivering, a line of precum leading from the tip to the floor. As for his mind? Gone. "I love your cum, Son." "What the fuck?" Brad was crying now. Good. He sank to the floor, sitting back against the door as he stared at his father. "What the fuck?" "He said," I grinned, "that he wishes I were his son. That I'm superior. I'm a better man." "You are," said Mr. Vane, crying. "Shh, Daddy. Don't worry. Now, get on all fours." Mr. Vane almost sobbed again. "Are you going to fuck me?" "Yes, Daddy. Right in front of your son." He obeyed, propping himself on all fours, but his sniveling renewed. After all, he did not WANT to hurt his son. But I was in control, and he needed me. From his place by the door Brad shook, unable to believe his eyes as his father pushed down his pants. As his father arched his back. As he moaned for me to push inside him. Truly straight. I could tell when an ass has been experimented with, and Arnie Vane's asshole was completely untouched. "Nice, Daddy," I said. "You're a true virgin." He moaned in response. His hands clasped either cheek, pulling them apart to display his lovely hole. "I'm scared," he said. "But you want it." "I want it so fucking bad, Son." "Dad, stop!" Brad tried again. "No," said Mr. Vane. Brad turned a red, puffy, hateful face to me. "I'm going to kill you." "You know damn well you aren't," I said. And--sorry, Mr. Vane!--I showed Brad my phone. In addition to the excellent photo of Leanne sucking his cock, I had snapped a few selfies with Mr. Vane's lips around mine. "You know I could take you, anyway," I said. "But these are already saved to my cloud. You'd be ruining your own dad's reputation. Putting the man in jail. All because you don't like that he loves my cock." At that moment, I pushed into Mr. Vane's ass. He yelled. It had to hurt--his virginal, pink, straight hole was being forced open. But that pain didn't last for long. "Oh, yes!" I looked at Brad. "Don't you love your dad?" "Give me more, John!" cried Mr. Vane. Brad was disgusted. He was broken. But he nodded. "Then you want him to be happy, don't you?" I said. "You want more, Daddy?" "More!" "Tell Brad here." Mr. Vane's eyes were rolling as I pushed a few more inches into him. He blinked, as if he couldn't even remember where he was, much less who was there. But his eyes settled on Brad. "I want this, Son." "Tell him why me," I said. "Because," moaned Mr. Vane, "he's giving me what you can't. Oh, god, fuck me." I did. While Brad watched, and everything about him and his Dad crumbled before his eyes, I enjoyed the feel of a once-straight man's ass. I had done what Dan wanted me to do: I had ruined Brad. A Christmas gift to my friend. To my team. I'll check it off as my "good deed" for the year. But now it was all about what I wanted--to nut in the ass of yet another teammate's dad. And cute Mr. Vane. Cute, handsome, tv-star Mr. Vane. I shifted him into his back, letting him look at me as he lifted his legs. I railed into him as I watched those big, cute nipples jiggle beneath his blond fur. I watched his lined face crinkle in desperation as I struck his prostate. I touched him. My fingers made him moan, filled every bit of him with excitement. I gripped his lovely, swollen nipples. With a rough jerk I twisted them. "Ungh!" He almost screamed. Thank god the walls down here were thick. I felt his asshole flex around my cock, felt it squeeze and convulse as he edged. I could have held off. But I had been gone from the party for a while. I needed to wrap this up. So, as I felt my balls rise, I let it happen. "I'm gonna fill you up," I said. "Yes! God, yes!" For the fourth time that night, I came. And it might not've been my biggest load--impossible, considering how much sex I had just had in the space of a few hours--but it wasn't bad. I shot a few good lines of spunk into Mr. Vane's lower intestine, my body flexing and seizing, knowing what an image my muscles must cast in the cellar light. Knowing both man and boy were staring, soaking in the view. Honestly, I didn't give a shit about Brad anymore. But he whimpered, and I got a sudden wave of inspiration. I withdrew from Mr. Vane's ass. Poor guy looked heartbroken. He still hadn't cum. "Clean me up," I said. He obeyed. I looked over at Brad. "You too." "I--" "Suck my dick clean, Brad." He obeyed, crawling on the floor next to his father. As Mr. Vane lapped at my balls, Brad took the head into his mouth. He tasted my seed, his father's saliva, his father's ass juices, all at once. What a whore. "Your dad still needs to cum," I said. Brad glared at me. "No." I shrugged. I put my clothes on, smirked at Mr. Vane's expression as I put away my dick. I stood. "Have it your way," I said. "But the way I see it, your dad's broken. Lost all respect for you. Only way to rebuild that?" "What?" "Fuck him," I said. "Be a fucking man and please your dad. Because right now you're trash in his eyes." Mr. Vane's hand went to my crotch again, but I stepped away. I turned at the cellar door. "Your choice." I rejoined the party. Shocking how easy it is when everyone thinks the best of you. I blended into the group around my coach, smiled slightly at the joke my dad told. Shrugged in confusion as Mrs. Cole passed through the room, still looking for her husband and son. I shook my head when asked if I had seen Brad. At some point I remember my dad giving me a proud grin, clapping my back. He had no idea I had cum four times that evening. He had no idea I had just initiated incest between two fathers and their sons. His mind was elsewhere, thinking of his work party, or how coach was saying I was a major contender for Team Captain, or whatever else a good father thinks of their son. He simply smiled at me. Dammit. My dad's proud smile made my exhausted dick twitch. What was wrong with me? Eventually I wandered downstairs again, just to put my ear against the cellar door. The sounds of rough, desperate sex reached me through the wood. The angry demands of a hungry father, and the protests of a son trying to keep up, and the sounds of Brad's cute, lean hips ramming into his dad's ass. I wondered if Brad would ever satisfy him. Probably not. But he could try. When they left the party at last, Mr. Vane was sure to walk up to me. He shook my hand and thanked me fervently. Then--and I could never have expected this--so did Brad. He gave me a shy smile, blushed, and shook; then he followed after his father like a devoted puppy dog. My bemusement increased when they were followed by Mr. Cole and Andrew, who looked happier than anyone I'd ever seen, and both of whom hugged me. How strange. My selfish raping had actually helped these pervs. What the fuck was wrong with these people. My own father wrapped a tipsy hand around my waist, and together we followed Mom out to the car. "I'll drive," I offered. "You shouldn't, you're too drunk, Pops." Dad's hand cupped the back of my neck. Then he did something I never would have expected, something he never would have done if he had been sober, and laid a wet kiss on my cheek. "You're such a good son."