Date: Tue, 30 Jun 2015 13:36:53 +0000 From: Bill Drake Subject: Horny Dad Tales: Dadfuckers Club pt. 1 The Dadfuckers Club Bill Drake The usual disclaimers apply: this is a made-up fictional story for adult readers only. It contains graphic depictions of sexual activity between men who are related. Nifty Archive relies on the support from readers to keep doing the awesome work they're doing. Please take some time to pay back and pay it forward. Thanks to those readers out there who've taken a moment to write. That's what inspired me to write these. Send those comments and story suggestions along: billdrake@hotmail.com. For more of my stories, check out the authors page at Nifty. Yahoo group: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/drakestories/ Drakestories Tumblr: http://drakestories.tumblr.com/ It might be a while before I finish part 2 of this, but part 1 should stand on its own. Horny Dad Tales #21 The Dadfuckers Club pt 1 Living in a large city has its perks. For starters, there are more good looking men - I mean, really smoking hot guys - than you can count. Somehow, they seem to come out of the woodwork. At the bars, on the street, at the office, they're enough to keep a young guy like myself perpetually horned and happy. I was the proverbial small-town Midwestern guy goes to the big city. I stuck it out four years more or less in the closet at a state university and on the varsity baseball team. Earned a marketing degree and a body of perfectly bulky yet sculpted muscle. I was never crazy about being blond and ruddy-cheeked but I soon was aware that it drew men like flies to honey. The second I moved the city I realized I was gonna get laid nonstop. And that I was hot shit in my new environment. The world was my oyster. In the city, there's always groups of young bucks like me. Demi-gods in the prime of their looks. Boy-next-door handsome, perfect bodies, and pretty much regular dudes. Still carrying their jock ways with them in the way they walk, talk, and stick together in good old-fashioned male bonding. The kind of guys who would elicit jealousy but most often plain I-wanna-fuck-those-guys lust. Only my group was a group of twenty-something tops. Me, Mac (George McDonough, a promising stock broker in training working on the Street), Jim Hersh (a burly rugby player type and the other blond in the group), Wes Davidson (a professional male model for men's fitness magazines), Ryan Heller (at 6'5, the tallest among us, he worked as a policy aide in City Hall). Me, Jim, and Ryan were the core of the group, sharing a loft where the group would spend much of our time hanging out, watching games or partying. When we weren't at the bars, that is. Two things kept sexual jealousy from erupting. One, we liked older guys. I overheard one twink at the bar sneer that the "Dad-Fuckers Club" had arrived. I told the guys and the name stuck. Sometimes one of us would chant "DFC" and all of us would clink our beers or bump fists. One for all and all for one. That was the second thing. We liked to share. Sure, if one of us met a guy we were into, dating would be a one-on-one thing. But for a weekend night (hell, weeknight) bout of let's go out, get drunk, and get laid, well, half the time it would turn into a threeway, foursome or outright orgy. Fuck, we were in our twenties and swimming in hormones you know? Funny thing was, there was a seeming endless supply of hot dads. Traveling businessman stepping out for a little action outside their dull marriages. Suburban commuters discovering their libidos and getting a second wind in their 40s. Divorced fathers who if they admitted probably had some issues to work out in relation ot their own sons. The majority though were just the many 40- and even 50-something single gay men who lived in the city and kept in superhot shape. *** It had all started with Gary. Just turned 42, father of three, lived in Connecticut. Hell, I didn't even know any of the man's vital statistics when I answered the door one Wednesday night. I'd just gotten home from a late day at the office, showered and changed into sweats and sat down with some takeout and some beer to watch some NCAA basketball. My team was out of the brackets but a buddy and teammate of mine from college was a sports medicine specialist for Purdue so I was rooting for them. I'd barely sat down when the door buzzed. The man talking into the intercom was looking for Jim. I let him up to explain that Jim was out for the evening. When I opened the door - wow! - 6'2" of hunky married stud. Green eyes, thinning chestnut-brown hair, nice fit body in a tucked polo shirt and jeans, had those full bulky pecs like guys in their 40s only have. It took me a second, but I recognized the guy as Jim's trick from a few weekends back. "Hey," he greeted me a little nervously. Blushing and shrugging his shoulders even. Funny how you get used to the way married men behave when their dicks are calling the shots. "Is Jim in?" I paused to take in the sight and to let him know I was enjoying what I saw. "Sorry, man. Jim has to work late. You can come in and wait if you like. I'm just watching the game." "You don't mind?" I was starting to groove on suburban daddy's polite, jocular vibe. "A friend of Jim's is a friend of mine. I'm Matt, by the way. Jim's roommate." We shook hands. "Gary. Glad to meet you, Matt." "Let me get you a beer." We shot the shit while we watched the game. I could barely keep my eyes on the game, I had to look over at this hunk - the freckled-tan skin, the fine hairs on his arm, the powerful hands. Definitely took golf trips down somewhere warm in the winter. I think Gary was enjoying the attention and, frankly, enjoying sneaking looks at me. Finally, I grabbed the bull by the horns. "My roommate's a pretty dumb guy." Gary took a swig of beer. "Yeah? How so?" I leaned back and spread my legs some. My rod was definitely chubbing up in my sweatpants. "If I had a guy as hot as you waiting for me at home, I wouldn't be working late." That made him smile, but he checked himself. "Really? What would you be doing?" I bit my lip and thought of my next move. I was getting into this. "I'd be sitting here, nursing my beer, watching the game... having you between my legs sucking my bone off." That made him chuckle. "You don't mince words, do you?" "Should I?" "Jim might not like it." Damn, even sitting still, those pecs looked awesome. I could see the hint of nipple poking through his shirt. "Jim's not gonna know." I took a swig. "You're not gonna tell him." He was still laughing a little but not as much now. "Oh really? Is that an order?" "Nope. An observation." That brought a raised eyebrow. "You don't wanna do anything to fuck up your chances." I stroked my now hard meat, letting Gary get a good look. "Cause you want a go at this." "Damn, you're cocky." "Maybe. Tell me I'm wrong." "Damn, you're cocky," he deadpanned. We both laughed. Just then a key turned in the door lock. Jim was home. "Hiya. Sorry I'm late, guy. Hope Matt's been keeping you entertained." Gary blushed but just said, "Yeah, we just been watching the game." "Wanna come on back?" Etiquette with a fuck buddy can be awkward, but Jim was pretty experienced at making guys feel at ease. The two retired to his bedroom. About ten minutes later I heard them having sex, even through the closed door. Gary apparently is a moaner. No way was my hardon going down anytime soon. Within a half hour the two were at the front door. Gary was fully dressed, while Jim had just slipped on a pair of gym shorts. They kissed briefly before Gary was off. Jim grabbed a beer and plopped down on the coach next to me, his dick flopping heavy and low in his shorts. "Jeez, that guy's a hot fuck. Just what I needed after a day like today." "You look pretty sated," I observed. "Damn straight. Fucker got me to come twice." "Where'd you find him?" "Grand Central. I started trawling there last month. I swear none of those suburban men are fucking their wives." He drank his beer, then asked. "Say, Matt, how long has it been since you've gotten laid?" I thought back to a traveling businessman I'd boffed three weeks ago. "Too long, buddy. Too long." I clinked his beer with mine. "To getting laid." "Here here." *** I didn't have to wait long, it turns out. The very next night, like clockwork at 8pm, the doorbell buzzed. "It's Gary," the voice announced. I turned down the volume on the TV and went to answer the door. "Hiya," the suburban dad greeted me. "I took a chance you'd want some company to watch the Tarheels get their ass whooped." In his arm was a brown paper bag containing a six pack. "Come in," I said. "Jim's not home. He's traveling on business" "I know. He texted me earlier." That made me grin big. Which made Gary grin big. He set the beer down on the entryway table and turned toward me. A look of expectation crossed his face as I stepped up, putting my hand on the back of his neck, drawing him toward me. We kissed. Slow, but hot, tongues battling and caressing, and I felt my libido racing full speed ahead. Gary wasn't the first older married dude I'd made out with, but the experience was still new enough to me to give me a headrush. The suburban daddy was all smiles when we broke for air. "Man, you know how to kiss," he muttered. Then, adding casually, "You don't want to know the excuses I gave my wife to stay late in the city two nights in a row." "I don't know... maybe it would give me an even bigger hardon." The forty-something man shook his head. "Man, you have no scruples, huh?" "I used to." "Til when?" "Last night. When I heard Jim fucking you." That made his eyes twinkle all right. We were each cheating in our own way - Gary on his wife, me on my best friend and roommate. It was only turning us on more. Gary reached into the brown bag and pulled out a beer, using his key chain to open it. "Here," he said, thrusting the bottle in my hand. "I promised you a blowjob while you kick back and watch the game." I took the offering and walked over to the couch, plopping myself in my habitual spot on the middle cushion. "You never promised me," I countered. "That was my brilliant idea." Gary shrugged his shoulders, then reached down and pulled off his polo shirt. If his chest looked good clothed, it was magnificent bared. Just the right amount of hair dusting the pecs and coating the stomach, getting thicker at his treasure trail. That barrel chest looked extra meaty, just begging to be squeezed. I just knew those dad-titties would bounce when I fucked the guy. For now, they hung suspended out a few inches from his abdomen, the nipples already firming up in excitement. The body was capped off with powerful, bulging arms. "OK," he admitted, "I liked the idea, too." He knelt down as I pulled down my sweats, freeing my erection for his gaze and then touch. "Your roommate only likes to get blown as a warm up to sex." "And for you it's the main course," I finished, only by now he was busy swallowing my dick. It felt good, real good. This suburban dad knew his way around a cock. For the next twenty minutes he made love to my stick, slurping, swallowing, licking, tongue-teasing, kissing, bobbing, mouth-screwing - each move working me higher to another plateau and keeping me hanging there, eager for more. I tried being nonchalant and watching the game while getting blown, but soon all my attention was on Gary's expert fellatio. When he started edging his tongue out, the sensation against the top of my ball sac really tripped my wires. "Ooh yeah, buddy. You're gonna get my splooge. Aw yeah, that's it, guy, suck it. Suck! Unmph!" Suddenly, Gary Pendergast, Greenwich, CT, father of 3, was eating thick glops of my ejaculation. He half-coughed as he gulped it, or rather got injected, and I rode out my orgasm feeling the aftershocks spurt and dribble into this tight, wet throat. Finally, he pulled off, a big, sperm-spit smile on his face. "Wow!" he said in a deep sex rasp, "That was incredible, Matt." He massaged my still-tumescent cock. I couldn't tell if he was trying to milk out more juice from the tip, but I'd already given it all up into his mouth. "I guess you do like head as the main course." I winked and gave a quick gentle pat to the side of his head. "When's dessert?" Gary grinned and started undoing his trousers. My cock sprung back fully hard, ready for a grade-A daddy fuck. *** I never told Jim I was fucking around with Gary behind his back, but I felt guilty enough to make an offering of my own. Three weeks later, I'd brought a man back from the bar. A traveling airline pilot who'd not cum in days. I fucked him every which way till I finally flipped him on his back, crawled into the saddle, and jackhammered both of us to orgasm. His hairy torso was splattered in ropes of his own sperm as I pulled my dick out and caught my breath. I really need to get laid more often, I thought, as I admired the hunky guy regaining his composure. "Whoa," he muttered. "Didn't know if I was up for you topping me, bud. But man, I must have needed that. You really got my rocks off." "You weren't the only one who needed that," I replied as I removed the condom off my prick and showed it to him. The rubber contained one of my healthier loads. "You always such a take-charge guy?" he asked. "I didn't expect to end up on bottom tonight." He didn't sound like he was complaining. If anything he was too fucked out and satisfied for anything more than matter-of-fact resignation. I stopped to think. "Dunno, I guess I just needed it. I think you did, too, big guy. Deep down, at least." To punctuate my point, I reached down between his still slightly-spread legs and pressed my finger against his partially-agape asshole. I teased the now sensitive rim and pushed in a little. "I hope you take this this wrong way, Big Guy, but... man o man, you have a terrific hole... tight, hot, perfect..." In response, that hole twitched and spasmed gently against my invading digit. "Oh Jesus!" the pilot moaned. At first thought he was resisting the post-ejaculate stimulation, only the man's prick started twitching and lengthening. This guy had a nice dick - long and full - and I could see why he would be use to taking the top. "Something tells me this hole's still hungry," I teased. I pulled out my index finger then penetrated the man with two fingers. The rectum was still sopping wet with lube - I reflected on what this finger-fuck would feel like with my fresh load in him. I saw the resistance melt out of my new fuck mate. His burly upper body relaxed and he leaned his head back. The only tension was in the arm grip he now used to pull his legs up and back, opening up to me. He looked so perfect just like this, this 40-something brunette airline pilot. I had an idea. "I think you need some fresh artillery." That made him lift his head up and look at me quizzically. "Huh?" "My roommate. Wanna get fucked by my roommate?" I didn't know if the direct approach was the best, but if not the tender massage I was giving his prostate might be persuasive enough. "Fuck, man, you're crazy," he huffed, but I noticed his erection still pulsing, pearly precum pooling at the tip. "Why not, man? Give me a chance to recharge before having another go at this ass. Whaddya say? I think you need it tonight, Big Guy. Need it bad." I now inserted three fingers into his magnificently taut hole. "Oh man," the pilot cooed in a deep voice. I'm not sure whether it was my fingers or the thought of being taken by another stranger. Maybe both. "He's pretty hot, if that's what you're worried about." I leaned forward until our faces were inches apart. The pilot guy, I still didn't know his name, leaned up and met me in an intense kiss. "Yeah? How hot?" His breath was getting shorter, more lustful. "Rugby player, 6'3", blond, blue-eyed. A little beer gut but enough muscle to power fuck you til tomorrow. Is that your type, buddy?" The man now held his legs spread wide, his built, hairy chest and abdomen contracted in the position. Seemingly unable to speak, he nodded his assent. I smiled and scrambled off the bed. "I'll go get him." Jim was watching TV in just a pair of gym shorts. His mostly smooth chest stuck out, its hard perfection a contrast to the modest blond-fur covered swelling a bit leading down to the elastic band. I stayed in perfect men's magazine shape, with lean muscle and washboad abs, but Jim didn't bother, relying instead on pure, uninhibited 24-year-old jock bulk. It never prevented him from having a line of men coming in and out of his bedroom. If anything, those guys seemed to love Jim's bod. "What's up, Matt-O?" he asked between beer sips, his eyes never leaving the late-night comedy monologue on TV. "How's your date going?" Jim and l were pretty close buds and one of our favorite pasttimes was trading blow-by-blow accounts of our conquests. The only thing I'd ever withheld from him was my screwing around with his fuckbud Gary. I still felt real guilty for that. "In-fucking-satiable, bud." "Yeah?" His eyes looked at me, registering for the first time that I was nude with a good semi going. "Yeah. And get this: he was a pilot on the United flight I took last week." That made Jim smile. I was guessing he had an airline pilot fantasy, too. "Then what are you doing standing out here, bud? I'd be pounding that tail already." "I did. Just resting up for round two." I paused before I made my proposition. "In fact, I was thinking you could take over duties while I recharge." He looked at me intently. "You serious?" "Serious as a heart attack. You game?" "Hell yeah." He put down his beer and when he stood up, I could see the start of a nice boner chubbing his shorts. He hooked his thumbs in the elastic and pulled them down. I could see what made Jim's bottoms so happy - a fat, perfectly proportioned fuck tool. "You know, Matt-O," he said. "This is the first time we've shared." Noticing the word first, I said, "There will be more?" "Probably, bud. Why not share the wealth?" I patted him on the back. There was a strange bond between me and Jim and if we both weren't tops with a thing for older guys, I'm convinced something would have developed between us. I could tell my pilot guy was apprehensive, but when Jim appeared, his fat erection leading the way, he smiled. "You weren't kidding," he said to me. "Your roommate's hot." "You said that about me?" Jim teased. "I'm touched." I punched him gently in the arm. "Go on, doofus, you got some prime ass handed to you on a silver platter." Jim laughed and turned to the pilot. "My bud's got you primed up pretty good?" The man nodded. "Uh huh. Didn't think I was gonna get fucked tonight." He spread his legs again, revealing his hair-dusted, lube-wet sphincter sitting like a bullseye in between two muscled buns. "Now I'm about to get it twice. From two complete strangers." Jim climbed his burly body onto the bed, taking over on holding the man's legs back. "Maybe that's how you like it." Matter of factly he started rubbing his rockhard fat prick along the man's hairy trench. "No questions asked. No one to answer to." He nestled the wedge cockhead against the man's twitching hole. "Just good..." He slipped it in. "... hard..." More - this guy was primed, all right. "... fucking!" With that, Jim slammed his hips forward, and pulled back just slightly to let the man's insides adjust. "Holy fuck!" the pilot's deep voice reverberated off the bedroom walls. He may have been wanting the direct assault but certainly wasn't expecting it. "You like that dick, huh?" Jim teased, his smooth chest poked out big and proud. My roommate sure loved being in the saddle, and I could tell he was majorly into this airline pilot. We both had similar types, but when swapping stories or scoping out guys at the bar, we'd divide older men into categories. Jim teased me for liking the "model daddies" - those impossibly in-shape, impossibly handsome older men you see in clothing catalogs or erectile dysfunction ads. You know: dimples, pearl-white smile, twinkling eyes, sun-tanned skin, and just the right amount of gray at the temples. A tight, flat stomach was not necessary but a bonus. Gary from Connecticut was grade-A Model Daddy. Jim for his part liked Real Daddies. Not exactly out of shape but average looking. Suburban dad next door. Jim would often pick out men that I wouldn't notice at first blush, but inevitably when you looked closer you'd realize how hot they were. Two things really did it for my friend: an honest-to-god wedding band beaming on the ring finger, and knowing he was fucking a real father. Our airline pilot was Real Daddy extraordinaire. Some love handles attached to a definite ex-military build from his Air Force days. His chest hair was untamed and unfortunately hid what was probably a masterful pair of nipples. The one Model Daddy quality Mr. United Pilot had was a nearly-bubble pair of buns you rarely see on older guys. Jim and I were connoisseurs about DILF-ass, too. Jim humped his hips and elicited a deep moan from the man. "Gawd, that dick's fat." "Yep," my roomie huffed, now building up to a proper thrust. "My buddy's got the length and I got the girth. We make a pretty good team, huh?" He was outright fucking, now. "You're not wearing a condom," the pilot interjected. Jim reached down and rubbed the man's hairy chest and stomach. He was appreciating doing a Real Daddy, all right. "C'mon, man, just let me open you up a little first." This was Jim's MO. Coaxing the guy, saying he was just gonna go bare for a little while. He liked to boast about this technique. One time I asked how many men ultimately insisted on a rubber. "None so far, Matt-O," he replied with a leer. The pilot was still showing some resistance. Jim leaned down and kissed him, doing little jack-thrusts of his fat cock against the man's love nut. "That's it, stud," he said leaning up into a push up position. "Let loose. No one here but us. Just two horny tops wanting to make you feel great. Isn't that what you want?" The man's sexual chant was almost a whisper it was so quiet, but that made it just that much hotter. "Oh yeah. Fuck me, you dumb jock. Fuck me with that big fat cock of yours." I thought Jim might get pissed off, but he just grinned and power drove his thick stake deeper and incrementally faster. "Us dumb jocks are pretty good for something, aren't we, sir?" I could hear flesh-on-flesh slapping sounds now. I'd had some amazing sex since moving to the city, but this scene was the hottest thing I'd witnessed in a while. And it was only going to get more intense. "Aw yeah, that dick's fucking filling me up." "Tell me, sir, Mr. United Pilot," Jim growled. "Am I like him?" It took a second for the man to answer. "Who?" "Your son. You got a boy, right?" He grunted. "Yeah. Two of 'em." "Jocks?" Jim was really getting into this now. His hips were punching forward like an engine piston, and even in the blur I could tell his cock was iron rigid. "Oh god!" The perversity of the situation was sinking in for the married man. Jim's hands caressed the fur on the man's torso. He was practically snorting now. "I bet they're a pair of dumb jocks who don't know how to do anything but fuck and play sports." "Man," our fuckee cried, "Why are you doing this?" Jim just powered on. "Cause you need it, sir. You need to get fucked like this. Get it out of your system. You been holding it in, haven't you? Looking at your boy's bodies, their dicks, and getting turned on." The pilot was nearly in tears but his dick was mega-erect and dripping like mad. I thought Jim was going to fuck it out of him at any moment. Especially when the man reached up and grabbed my friend's rugby-built arms. "Tell me, sir," Jim cooed. "Are they blond, too? Your lunkhead, dumb jock sons?" He shook his head. "Yeah, they're blond. The older boy looks just like your friend." He nodded my way. "That's why I let him fuck me. " I could sense that this was as Real Daddy as Jim had experienced before. He always said he wanted to join a real father-son team. Until that happened, I guess this would do. He didn't even announce his orgasm. He just fucked a little harder and growled and before we knew it, the pilot's hole was soaked full. Jim was still cacthing his breath as he extracted his thick, spermy prick. Still pulsing and dribbling. "Finish him off, bud," he urged me. I didn't need any encouragement. This pilot-dad was still in heat and I was definitely recharged. I fucked in at full pace. "Gotta fuck you, Dad," I said to him, looking him straight in the eye. "Oh yeah, son. Fuck me. Fuck your daddy. Gonna fuck me off good?" I don't know who was getting in whose head more, me or him. I kissed him quickly, intensely. "Damn straight, Dad. I missed you. You're away so long and I get so fucking horny." "I thought I taught you how to jack off, son." "I wanted to save it, Dad. Been saving it for you." "Yeah?" "Yessir. Where you want it?" "In me, son. Shoot it in your father." That thought must have tripped his wires, cause instantly his body convulsed and a powerful spray of his second load shot out over his torso. I wasn't far behind. My dick twitched and shot. A lot. Adding my load to Jim's. This man was sure getting loaded. We finally climbed down from our highs and the pilot padded off to use the shower. Jim hugged my shoulder fraternally as we lie there on my bed, catching our breaths. "Thanks bud. That was awesome. That's how you break in a daddy, huh?" "Jesus, Jim, how did you know?" "Know what?" "He had a thing for his sons." "Maybe he was just going along with the fantasy." "Yeah, I guess." "But I doubt it. Sometimes you just get a sixth sense. I like feeling 'em out to see what makes them tick." *** As it turned out, I'd learn a lot about being a master top from Jim. From then on, Jim and I shared more often than not. The following week, I brought home a businessman from out of town who gave me head while Jim fucked him. Jim introduced me to his boss, Kevin, and the night after that, a guy from Manhunt who wanted to celebrate his 50th birthday in style. It was like he was trying to convert me to Real Daddies. It was working, at least if Jim was picking them out. One night, we were out with Mac and Ryan and we ended up at a bar that was filled mostly with twinks. Incidentally that night was when we heard that "Dadfuckers' Club" jibe, later on, as we were leaving. Anyway, at one point, Jim finished off a pint and whispered in my ear. "I got a Model Daddy you might like, Matt-O." "Where?" I asked, looking around a sea of young men for someone. It was fruitless. "Remember that guy Gary?" I played dumb. "Gary?" "You know, suburban guy from a couple of months ago. Came over a few times. 6'2" thinning hair, amazing rack." I thought instantly of Gary's big pectoral muscle and thick vascular nipples and smiled. Jim punched me in the arm. "Yeah, you fucker. I thought Gary was your type." "Sorry, bud," I lamely apologized, but my dick was getting a rise. "Well, I thought you might like a go. I know how you like to see big broad dad titties jiggle when you fuck a guy." Like I said, Jim and I talked a lot about our experiences in the sack. "That would be hot," I replied. "Cool," he said, pulling out his phone. "I just got a text from him. I'll set something up." A few texts and it was official. "He'll be at our place in 15 minutes. You might want to go ahead over." "You coming?" "Nah, bud. Ryan and I are double-teaming a high school coach in town on a school trip." "Where's he find them? I think he's fucked every coach in the tri-state area," I said. My other roommate, Ryan, was into Coach Daddies. Real coaches if he could find them, or just men who looked like a coach. "Tell me about it. I guess he's importing them from the heartland now." "This one hot?" I ask. Jim's eyes light up. I'm guessing Mr. Baseball Coach was enough Real Daddy for him. "Like you wouldn't believe, buddy. I don't think that fucker knew just how popular his Craigslist post would be. I don't know if we were the first offer or the best." Knowing Ryan's drop-dead gorgeous looks, I knew the answer to that. "You guys are sharing, too?" "Yessir, Matt-O," Jim said, clapping his hand on my back like a big brother. "Don't worry, we'll bring you in on the action too. It would be fun to organize something one night in the loft." That's how our little club was formed.