Date: Wed, 1 Sep 2021 12:31:01 -0700 From: David Ashley Subject: Conquering My Friends' Dads Chapter 13 Sorry about the wait, guys. I hope this chapter makes up for it--lots of raunchy bits! Regular disclaimers: This is a story of incest, featuring underage characters, and graphic sexual content. I do not endorse such acts. If you can, please donate to Nifty at http://donate.nifty.org/ You can email me at bupdash [at] gmail.com. My virtual tip jar is $Bupdash on cash app. Chapter 13 "Wake up." Mr. Lopez reacted slowly. His face, puffy from his forced sleep, gave a pained expression as his eyes squinted open. They were bloodshot and teary, and blinked at his predicament. He was a sight. Beautiful, in a way, and that's just a fact. But I imagined what it must have been like for him: waking up from a drug-induced sleep, unaware of where he was, taking in the drab surroundings of the motel and the smell of the dank mattress beneath him. Slowly realizing he was naked. Realizing he could not move. So, so sexy. I leered down at Mr. Lopez, smirking as he took in the careful rope pattern tied around his naked body. The way the knots came together just under his big pecs. The way they snaked his arms behind him and trussed his ankles together. I had been right, by the way. Mr. Lopez was completely smooth. He shaved meticulously, and truly the only bit of hair that remained was his eyebrows. Imagine this muscular gym bunny pretending he was straight. Acting as though he shaved like this to show off for his wife. What a performative piece of shit. And, at the moment, completely at my mercy. "Open your mouth," I said. Mr. Lopez's wild, rolling eyes fell on me. He took me in, and I saw understanding bubble to the surface as I removed my heavy cock from my boxer briefs. I let the rest of my clothes fall away. His white face turned red. "Ng... nn... No..." "Yes," I said. He started to struggle. "No!" I hit him, the knuckles of my hand connecting with his puffy cheekbone. "Shut up, Mr. Lopez. If you yell I'll have to put you under again--or gag you, and then you won't get to taste this." I pulled down on my cock, letting it bounce back up at him. "I'd rather have both of your holes available to use." "Fuck you!" Mr. Lopez spat with the words, though whether that was on purpose or because he was still drugged I couldn't say. "Let me go!" "Not until I've had my way with you," I said. Mr. Lopez squirmed again. He strained at his ropes, and I watched as his muscles bulged against the tight pattern of knots. It was hot--cute, even, in its way. This man let out a stream of curses, spitting more in my direction as his built but useless body struggled. I gotta admit it turned me on. I couldn't help stroking my cock. The aggressive, masculine soccer dad. The man who yelled louder than the others, who was determined to act the biggest and baddest. Trussed up like the cock pig he was. He looked really small. The man who had paid me to fuck his son. He was proving very, very fun to break. "FuuuuUUUUUCK--" I hit him again, harder this time; I felt the skin on my knuckles break. "One more time, Mr. Lopez. One more time. Yell again and I swear to god you won't get to enjoy this." He quieted. His face screwed up at me, becoming a mask of fury. "Enjoy it?!" he spat. "Of course," I said. "This is for you, Mr. Lopez. I have a whole evening planned. See--I've figured you out. Completely pegged you." I leaned down to kiss his bald head. "And you're not that complicated." "What the fuck are you--" "You," I said, "are a hole." "Fuck you, kid!" Mr. Lopez squirmed again, but this tightened the knot around his dick. He stopped short as the pain reached him. "Fuck you. This wasn't part of the deal!" "I don't make deals with holes. I fill them, Mr. Lopez." There it was. That burst of fear behind his eyes. It made my cock throb again. "You're serious," said Mr. Lopez. "Open your mouth." "No." I sighed. "Mr. Lopez, there are two foregone conclusions here. One--you're a fucking hole, no better than a glory hole in a park bathroom, and you're going to see that. Two--you are going to get fucked, many times, tonight. Whether you're conscious or not. But since you need some convincing, remember that video I took?" "Fuck--" "If you make this hard on me, I'm showing it to my dad. You'll go to jail for molesting a minor. That's the hard way--I knock you back out, you wake up with a bruised and leaking asshole, and you hear sirens in the distance coming to take you away." "What the FUCK--" "Or." Now I spoke gently. I put a careful hand to his face, soothing the place I had hit. "You have another option," I said. "You can do what I say. You can enjoy this." An actual tear leaked from his eye. "Fuck you, John." "Which will it be?" A breaking man. A shattering picture of machismo, Mr. Lopez glared up at me. A ball of fury and reluctance and a shock of fear still in his eyes. He opened his mouth. "Tongue out." He stuck out his tongue, another tear leaking out. What a fucking turn on. I pushed my cock forward. "Just try to take it," I said. "Don't worry about sucking yet." This was the most fucked up thing I had ever done. I know. And it was going to get a lot worse. I fucked his mouth. Relentlessly. I didn't hold back, sliding straight back to his throat. The whole thing excited me; the broken dad beneath me, the ropes, the way his face turned purple. I was cruel. I loved it. And damn, he loved it, too. Mr. Lopez gagged and spat and coughed, and he still was nowhere near admitting it, but he nevertheless took my cock--almost a pro. I'm glad I had told him to hold back on sucking, because the horny pig inside him was taking over. It would have been too much too soon. No, baby steps. Mr. Lopez was still breaking. He had over forty years of machismo nonsense built up, and I had to tear that shit down bit by bit. I gripped one of his nipples, giving it a sharp yank; the pig squealed beneath me. This image of perfect masculinity, all muscle and rage and spit, gagging on my cock. It was a delicious view. I stopped short of cumming, pulling out. "Good, daddy," I said. "Good." Mr. Lopez gasped, but there was a satisfaction breaking into his face behind the rage. He panted, choosing not to speak for a moment. At last he blinked up at me. "Are you going to fuck my ass?" he said. "You want me to?" "Fuck no!" he lied. I cocked a grin. "Eventually, yes." "What are you doing?" I was on my phone. "Don't worry," I said. "Nothing about your video. Just the next event." He looked away. I saw him squirm again, but I think this was on purpose, to squeeze against his partially-stiff cock. I grinned. "How do you like being a rope bunny?" "Fuck you." But he stretched at his ropes again, and I watched it tighten around his cock. I saw a spasm of pleasure enter his face--before he suppressed it. "Your first mistake," I said, "was assuming I would side with you. Vinny's my teammate. My friend. I fuck my friends, but I don't break them, unless I have to." Mr. Lopez snorted. I continued. "But perverted, incestuous fuckers like you? Yeah. I break guys like that." "You're saying I deserve this." "I'm saying," I said, "that you're a really shitty dad. Paying a guy to rape his son, so you can do it, too? And cowardly. See, I could forgive you lusting after your kid. But be a fucking man about it. Do it yourself." "Shut up," said Mr. Lopez. But he did not really put energy behind it. A knock at the door. I strode across the motel floor as Mr. Lopez flinched. "Who--what--?" "Evening, Vinny," I said. I'm pretty sure I would have wanted to fuck around with Vinny anyway. He was no Nalan, don't get me wrong--slimmer, and more wiry than burly, but he was a cute guy. The kind of kid with energy, and enough charisma you couldn't help but be attracted. Usually, he was cocky. He would smirk and laugh and appreciated my jokes. Tonight, though, he was not laughing. "Oh, good," I said. "You brought Jamal." Jamal waved over Vinny's shoulder. Black, built like an ox, and more intense-looking than handsome, he nodded at me. He used to be more Brad's friend, but those lines were long gone on the team. He, at least, seemed amused by the situation. "Hey, John," said Jamal. "Evening, Mr. Lopez." "Dad," said Vinny. Mr. Lopez was--well, how else would you describe a man, caught naked and tied up in front of his son? The man was completely dumbstruck. He trembled as Vinny entered the room. "What--what the fuck, John--" "Don't blame this on John," said Vinny. You gotta respect this kid. Every inch of him exuded fury, yet he proceeded to undress himself in careful, measured movements. He was keeping his cool remarkably well. The pig started to cry. "Vinny." "Is it true, Dad?" said Vinny. He stood in only his socks. He was not hard--he was just a naked teen. He folded his arms. "You paid John to fuck me?" "I--I didn't, I just--" "Is it true?" I sat in the only chair--a ratty armchair by the motel's lone table. Fuck, this was hilarious, but I just grinned at Mr. Lopez. "You better tell him the truth," I said. "It's--" Mr. Lopez pushed his entire face into the sheet beneath him, trying to smear away his tears and snot. God, the man was a mess. "It's true," he croaked. Jamal chuckled, leaning against the wall on my right. We watched as the stone-faced Vinny just glared at his dad. Vinny noticed the blood on his dad's cheek. "You hit him?" "Just to keep him quiet," I said. Vinny nodded. "Did you fuck him yet?" I smiled. "Only his throat. His other hole--well. I think, in this case, you deserve the honors." Vinny extended his fist to mine, and I bumped it. "You're a bro," he said. I was not, of course. This was not a generous move on my part. Nothing I did, even when it benefited others, could be considered altruistic. See, I was curious. All these dads I had ruined? Most of them, I fucked myself. I took their virginity--or if not, I had at least been at them before their sons. But this was a golden, rare opportunity. This was the chance to see it. To see a man's first experience with anal--I was certain Mr. Lopez had never even fingered himself--be with his own flesh and blood. His own kid. The one to pop his cherry would truly be a person he had MADE. What a fucking trip. And I had set it up, so it's not like this was emasculating or anything. I made this happen, and I got to watch. I got to watch the son tug at his cock. I got to see myself there. Vinny--me--pushing his cock forward. Mr. Lopez--Dad--MY dad--opening his mouth to get him hard. Trembling as he sucked at his son's manhood. As he tasted what he yearned for. It was an experiment for me. And anyway--I had never fucked a sloppy hole. A truly sloppy, dripping, used hole. I intended to that night. Mr. Lopez whimpered. He was tentative on his boy's cock. I tutted. "You can do better than that, pig," I said. "Be a good daddy. Show him what you can do." Mr. Lopez turned his tearstained face on me. He hated me, but I thought there was gratitude buried in there, too. He went for it. The man even snorted. All those tears and all that snot was making breathing difficult, and as he desperately dived for his son's dick, his similarity to a pig only became more pronounced. He snorted and moaned and gagged on his boy's tool. I watched him curl, watched him struggle across the bed to get closer, and I noticed his own erection was not holding back now. Mr. Lopez was hard and throbbing as he sucked at his son's cock, grinding against the sheet, pushing himself to get close. Vinny, for his part, was torn between an urge to give some affection to his old man, or simply destroy him. I grinned as I watched him work it out. One moment he would grip his dad's bald skull, shoving in roughly and furiously; the next, he would pull back, letting Mr. Lopez make love to his balls while he allowed his hands to explore his father's taught muscle. It was a balancing act, the inverse of a father punishing his son. Vinny wanted to ruin this man. He also loved him and wanted to make him happy. Fascinating to me. "Vinny," I said, "careful--don't let him grind too much. He's close." Mr. Lopez whimpered as Vinny gripped his ropes, tugging his groin away from the sheets. "Knees, Dad," he said. "Keep your ass in the air." Then, carefully, Vinny pulled his cock out of his dad's mouth. He shifted around, stepping onto the mattress behind Mr. Lopez. "Jesus Christ," said Vinny. He looked at me. "You really didn't use this hole." "Nope," I said. "All yours. Your daddy's a virgin." Mr. Lopez cry-snorted again. Vinny let his heavy cock fall against the man's hole. He let it slap. Then he lined up. Damn this kid was sloppy. He clearly didn't really know what he was doing--Vinny acted purely on instinct. But that was part of the charm. When you're inexperienced you don't know about things like eating ass, or making sure you push in slowly. When you are a horny, angry, betrayed kid, who's had very little sexual experience, you're gonna make this shit hurt. He shoved his entire rod in at once. I swear my dick throbbed. I watched that pain tear across Mr. Lopez. He arched, trying to pull away, but Vinny had a firm grip on his ropes. The enormous, muscle-bound pig squealed as all seven inches of his son's prick opened him up. Oh. This was unexpected. I think my instincts were right. Vinny really had been the perfect guy to do this, opening up Mr. Lopez like that. See, if it had been me, I would've let him take it at least a little slower. I wouldn't have been kind, maybe, but I wouldn't have split him all in one go. But that would have let him get used to it. Possibly put a block in his mind. Close himself off to what was happening. Not here: Mr. Lopez didn't have time to prepare himself, or pretend he was elsewhere, or protect his own mind. He was, all at once, a cock sleeve. And it broke him completely. One thrust had been all it took. Mr. Lopez came. Vinny shoved in, Mr. Lopez squealed, he arched to pull away--all in quick succession--and suddenly there was a heavy spatter into the sheets. He shot load after load of his roided daddy cum into the motel sheets, crumpling, jerking and twitching in his ropes. Vinny paused. He blinked at me. "That's it?" I chuckled. Mr. Lopez looked close to passing out, and I stroked my own cock as I watched. "Bro, this is just getting good," I said. "Fuck your dad's ass." "But he--" "This isn't about him," I said. "Take what you want." So Vinny did. Poor Mr. Lopez. I imagined how sensitive everything must be; hell, his cock still twitched, dribbling another glob of cum now and then as his son assaulted his ass. "Like I said," I told him, "you really are just a hole." Mr. Lopez moaned. At some point, as I watched, Jamal couldn't help himself anymore. He got on his knees, and took my cock into his mouth. I watched Vinny plug his dad, and let this big guy service my shaft. He wasn't bad. Wasn't good, either, but I had plenty of entertainment going on. Vinny was trying to last, but it was a losing battle. His father's hole was sucking him in, and he was weakening to it. "Fill him up," I instructed. I think Vinny was grateful for my permission. He sped up, his hips slapping against his dad's ass now, and soon he reached it. The boy shuddered, almost crying as he came. I watched him twitch his load into his father. Son breeding dad. Perfection, really. I watched him withdraw. "Show us," I said. Vinny, dazed and happy, but proud, gripped his dad's ropes. He turned him, spinning the used man around to show us. Mr. Lopez's hole was red and sore, and more than a little bruised, but it was still shockingly tight. I tapped Jamal's head. "Your turn," I said. "Let's stretch this man out." Jamal stood, letting a line of spit pull from his lips to my cock before it broke. He undressed, his stocky frame joining the musty air. The"big Black cock" stereotype existed for a reason. Jamal was a thick boy. His tool was far too big for Mr. Lopez's little hole, but I knew that wouldn't deter him. "Brace yourself, man," said Jamal. Mr. Lopez didn't even squirm. He arched hungrily, crying out again in both pain and hunger as his son's best friend shoved into him. "Fucking hell, man," said Jamal. "Your daddy IS tight." Vinny chuckled, then he gasped. His sensitive dick had been swinging by his father's face, covered in ass juice and cum. Mr. Lopez took it back in his mouth, like a piglet blindly feeling for a teat. Vinny shuddered as his dad sucked him in again, wincing, his boy cock sensitive and raw. Still, Mr. Lopez sucked on. He released his son as Jamal's length began a heavy rhythm, licking the underside of his shaft and lapping at Vinny's balls. Then he nodded back onto his firming cock, releasing another snort as his son hit his throat. "Fuck. Holy fuck," said Vinny. "This is wild," agreed Jamal. Another knock at the door. I motioned for the boys to carry on, hefting my pants up around my waist. "Welcome, Jim," I said. Jim Meydrich. Yeah, the son of my favorite dad. But like hell was I about to unleash him on his dad without making sure he was damned good at fucking. He stood there, looking confused. Here's the thing about Jim Meydrich: everything--every single thing about him--was average. He was average height. Average build--not muscular, not skinny. I used to think he was even chubby, but he was not even that anymore; what had happened? In a few short months his mild, baby-fat belly had gone. But he still had an average face. Dark hair, okay-looking, not particularly handsome. And the kid was shy as shit. He could spend the whole day hanging at the outer circle of my friends, without saying more than two words. But he WAS a cute kid. I can't explain it, but my point is I knew exactly what Mr. Meydrich saw in his son. Why he was so proud. Why nice kids were so fucking dangerous to me. I let my bulk cover the view, leaning against the door frame. But fuck the guy. He wasn't even really intimidated by my shirtless body--just shy, looking at me the way he'd look at anyone. "Hey," I said, "I understand Kay's been hooking up with you." Jim flushed. "Oh! Is--um. Is that what this is about?" "Kind of," I said. Jim bit his lip, his face going red. "Wow. Um. I'm flattered," he said. He swayed, shoving his hands in his pockets. "And I didn't really expect you to be the type, John. But--" he cleared his throat. "Okay. If you want me to--to give it to you, too--I will." Now it was my turn to be confused. I almost laughed, but it kind of pissed me off, too. Jim Meydrich thought I had invited him to my motel room for him to fuck ME. The fucking gall on this kid. Sure, I knew what this looked like, but it still pissed me off. "Not me," I snapped. "Oh." "Him." I stepped back. Jim got the full view. Mr. Lopez, tied up. Jamal behind, stretching his hole to the limit. Vinny in front, kissing his dad before shoving his dick back in his throat. "OH," said Jim. "Come in. I'm running a train on Mr. Lopez's ass--don't worry, he likes it, you can tell. So I figured you could help us out." Jamal nodded at Jim, then slapped Mr. Lopez's ass so hard it was like a shot fired, leaving a huge red mark. Jim nodded back, completely bewildered. His eyes shot over to me. "Um. John?" "What?" "Is that--that's Vinny. His own--" "Son, yeah." I would dare anyone to watch the lewd display they put on--father choking, gagging on son cock, moaning for a kiss, son forcing his head down again--without getting turned on. Jim stared, and I knew it was awakening something in his lizard brain. "Fuck, John. The rumors--" "Yeah." "You really get into some kinky shit." I smirked. Fucking annoying as I found him, the kid was still really cute. And there was the bro in him--the Mr. Meydrich in him. The acceptance. Taking it in stride. "So?" I said. "What to be lucky number three?" Jim undressed. A mean idea entered my brain as I watched Mr. Lopez get spit-roasted. Watched as Vinny forced his dad's mouth off his dick and onto Jim's. Fuck, I was cruel, but it was a golden opportunity. I snapped a photo, making sure Jamal's hefty length, his face, and the faces of Mr. Lopez and Vinny were both recognizable. I tapped in my phone on Mr. Jones' number. Jamal's dad. One of my last dads to take. Ah, hell. I was knocking this dad off the list. Why not another? Jamal shot a heavy load into Mr. Lopez. Around then we retied his ropes--welts were beginning to form, so we released his legs, and adjusted his hands. The pig was obedient, and did not try to escape; they were more for show now, anyway. He was truly broken. Then Jim mounted him. What the fuck was I watching? As Jim climbed onto the bed, his knees pushing Mr. Lopez's legs wider, a change passed over the ordinary, average-looking kid. I sat back in my chair, watching carefully as Jim gripped the ropes. As he adjusted his hips. As he pulled Mr. Lopez back, onto his cock. Holy fuck. This kid--I don't know how, or why--but Jim was a fucking sex god. "Sloppy cunt," said Jim--not for the sake of the room, but to himself--and he removed himself after a few brief, practiced strokes. He sank down, and I watched his face disappear into Mr. Lopez's enormous ass. I watched his jaw work, his tongue lap at the two loads. Jim inserted a finger, hooking into the pig's hole while he stretched it out with his tongue. A waterfall of cream fell. He lapped it up. He turned Mr. Lopez. He spat it into his mouth. Then he fucked the man's brains out. I did not expect to find myself so impressed. I blinked at the kid, watched him motor like a vibrator into the muscle pig. At one point I exchanged looks with Jamal and Vinny--they were both as shocked as I was. Mr. Lopez had not come since his son had entered him, but he came now. Short, intermittent globs of cum shuddered out of him as Jim laid him bare. The sounds he made were unearthly. Jim nailed his prostate, and I swear that second orgasm became a third, causing clear fluid to trickle steadily. "Getting bored," muttered Jim--again, to himself. He raised Mr. Lopez's leg, bending it back into a new position. "There. Better." Mr. Lopez nearly passed out. Jamal floated to my side. "Is it crazy I want him to fuck ME next?" "Focus," I said, but frankly I did not blame him, no. Finally I saw Jim speed up. His hips slapped against Mr. Lopez's cheeks, and he reached down to force a finger down the man's throat, just for a good grip. Jim shot his cum in there, filling the hole, and Mr. Lopez released a wild sigh. Jim took a deep breath. "There," he said. "Needed to release the pressure, sorry, Mr. Lopez. The real one's next." And, before anyone could do more than blink, he started fucking again. "Dude," said Vinny, some twenty minutes of straight fucking later, "you're breaking my dad." Jim chuckled, not even breaking his pace. "Isn't that the idea?" Then he grinned and winked at me. "I can see why you're into dads. I wonder if my own old man would be into this?" "Only one way to find out," said Vinny. "Right?" Jim grinned. "I gotta lay into him. Maybe while he's drunk. Fucking hell, I'm trying it tonight, soon as I get home." "You'll like it, man," said Vinny. "Fucking your own dad. It's fucking wild. And your dad's such a bro!" "I gotta do it!" I said nothing. I only watched the fire I had started spread. I saw the fate of Mr. Meydrich--MY Mr. Meydrich--sealed, out of my reach. Why, though? I knew the answer, and I hated it. So I resisted, until I could not. I think the reason I clasped onto Mr. Meydrich was simple: He was the only one keeping me from raping my dad. Maybe it was their energies. The way Mr. Meydrich had adopted me, so to speak. But he was a surrogate for my own dad, and I had known it was bound to only last for so long. What would I do? What COULD I do? How could I live without that? I had already spent that morning sneaking into the laundry room to sniff my dad's underwear. I was so close to fucking it all up, breaking him, turning that Harrison-Ford-face into my personal cock sleeve-- "John? You okay?" Who was that? Oh. Dan had entered the room. I forgot I had texted him. I blinked, staring up from my chair as the next line of my planned train--my perfect arrangement--undressed before me. At some point, Jamal had put a bottle in my hand, too--it was empty. "Hey," I said. Dan gave a cocky grin down at me. "You're fucking gone, man. You good?" I looked over his shoulder, at the bed. Mr. Lopez was preparing to milk Jim's third load with his mouth, with Jamal next to him in line, while Vinny was having a go eating his dad's ass. I looked back at Dan, forcing a wincing smile. "I'm good. I'm just--I'm fucked up." Dan laughed. "Hell yeah you are. But we should thank you. It's nice to get a break from Dad's hole now and then, get it wet with someone else's--Oh!" He leaned in. He perched his naked ass on the chair's arm, and I felt his hand on my shoulders as he whispered in my ear. "And I just found out--Coach Call, you'll never believe it. He and Andy Dorian, you know, Robby's older brother--they've been fucking for ages, ever since Andy was a student--so I arranged to go there tomorrow. Little private threesome, me and them. But of course you can have at them, too. After me." Dan gave me a wink. I think I grinned back, I don't know. I was becoming numb. Dan moved to the bed, and Mr. Lopez was like a cat in heat. He moaned, his back muscles rippling as he readied for the next load. Dan mounted in a cockier way than I had ever seen from him. He was no Jim--hell, was anyone? Was I?--but he was good. Fuck. At some point Vinny shoved another bottle into my hand. The others toasted as Dan added his load to Mr. Lopez's now-gaping hole. Cheers. More drinks. I sipped. Bad beer. I was the only one lost at the gang bang I had arranged. I deserved shitty beer like this. Another knock. This brought me back to earth. I stood. I still had my jeans on from when I had let in Jim, and stumbled a bit with the alcohol. But what a treat: big Mr. Jones at the door. "What the fuck is going on, John?" I closed the door for now, joining him outside. The parking lot was deserted, but there was a lone light; I got a good look at this man. Mr. Jones was a burly guy, both muscular and chubby--and with an enormous ass. He had a rough goatee, which bristled at me now. "Is Jamal--is he--?" "He's fucking Mr. Lopez. I brought you here to join him. But first--am I hot, Mr. Jones?" He frowned, baffled. "What?" "Do you want me?" The beer. Was it talking? Was I getting too honest? But how many had I coerced, how many genuinely thought I was hot, how many dads had actually cared-- "The fuck do you mean? I'm straight." "Am I hot?" I forced my eyes on him. "I've fucked straighter guys than you, that's for fucking sure. But do you WANT--" "I WANT," said Mr. Jones, his face all fury now, "to not be talking to a drunk teenager right now. A kid that's been messing with half the town. I WANT to get my son out of whatever fucking orgy you have going on--" I sighed. Ah, well. My sloppiness was doing me no favors. And I'd done worse things to get laid. So, I wagged my phone at him. "I'm going to send these pictures to your wife," I said. "No--" "I am. She's gonna know. Everyone will, you go to church, right? I'll send them there, too. Tell everyone your son's a queer pervert. Like me." "What are you--" "IF," I said, "you don't come into that room with me now. Ride my cock in front of everyone. Then drop your load in Mr. Lopez's ass. Only then can you leave." "You're a fucking mess." "I know," I said. Mr. Jones shook his head. He glared at me. "You've been fucking up your whole team." "I know." "These motherfuckers have LIKED it." "I know." Mr. Jones hesitated. "I'm not gonna lie and say it hasn't made--well, everyone--curious. Me too. But I doubt I'll like it." "Honestly?" I chuckled, still buzzed. "I don't give a shit if you do." He shook his head. "John Field, you're a real piece of work." "Kiss me, Daddy," I said. Mr. Jones did--cruelly, and forcefully. He kissed me, but it felt like a punch. Back inside. I sat down. Jamal stared as his father undressed. He was a beautifully built man. Stocky but well-shaped. A dad bod. Black and furry--and that ass. No foreplay; I was too far gone for that. I just spat on my cock. Instructed the man to sit on it. His enormous ass swallowed my cock. I heard him give a small "Oh!" The boys watched the show. Some even cheered as Mr. Jones started to get hard. I only remember snippets from that fuck--Mr. Jones getting into it--raising a leg onto the chair--letting me rail into him--Jim's impressed face as I fucked a load out of the man--Dan saying something like "Classic John" or "That's my man" or some other meaningless bullshit--Jamal hating it, Jamal loving it--Jamal getting his cock sucked by Mr. Lopez as he kissed his old man-- --my orgasm-- "Fucking hell," said Mr. Jones. He was panting, shining with sweat. I watched him get off me unceremoniously. He kissed his friend, Mr. Lopez-- I faded--Mr. Jones adding his enormous cock to the ruined Mr. Lopez--Jamal crawling under them--Mr. Lopez's hole stretching over both father and son's twin cocks-- --a fountain of cum-- Then it was my turn. Drunk fucking. This was a first. How many beers had I had? Did it matter? The boys watched. The Joneses canoodling. Vinny cradling his dad's head again. Dan at my shoulder. Jim silent. Some, I knew, get sloppy when they had drunk sex. Conversely, I felt my mind clear. A plan had formed, somewhere between Dan's arrival and Mr. Jones's second orgasm. I knew what I wanted, and how I would avoid it. How I would avoid Dad. Mr. Lopez was thoroughly and completely ruined. His hole was a used thing, gaping and swollen. It oozed, yet there he was, thrusting back at me for more. One final load of the night. It was there, in my balls. I felt it rise. "So, Mr. Lopez," I said. "Is it true?" His hole gaped at me as he purred. I heard his voice--raw and rough, his throat swollen, too--"It's true." "What are you?" I said. "I'm a hole." A few clinks of bottles. A few cheers. I pushed forward. "Fuck me, John!" I won't act like it was my strongest fuck. But it was good. And that feeling--a used, loaded hole. What a feeling. Don't get me wrong, the tight ones are great. But it's like... there was so much space. So much begging to be filled. I couldn't reach it all, but fuck, the hole itself encouraged me to try. And it felt incredible as I attempted to fill it with each stroke. A few lewd, squirting sounds as I pushed out some cream. The sound of it churning against my cock. Mr. Lopez pounded back against me, furiously trying to fill up on more, begging for it-- Dan's hand was on my shoulder. He whispered in my ear. "I want to fuck you like that, John." "What--?" "Please let me," he said. "Please, John. I love you." I turned. I gave him my most incredulous look--we were lost to the rest of them, just Dan and me, staring--his eyes seeing the revulsion in mine-- I came. "NO!" I shoved in, adding my load to the others'. I pulled away from Dan, felt him back up. As I came to, and my sight returned, I looked at him again. I took in his hurt, closed eyes. Way to fucking ruin my night, Dan.