When I left for college, my mom started dating Doug, a kind guy who didn’t bat an eye when I came out as gay. He even tried to play wingman for me a few times—not very successfully, but it was always good for a laugh. By my sophomore year, they were married, and I was happy for them. Doug was easygoing, and we got along well. But the summer of my junior year, when I returned home, everything took an unexpected turn.
My mom’s job kept her busy, often sending her on work trips for weeks at a time. Doug, who worked from home, was left to hold down the fort in our small town—a place where, let’s just say, the dating pool was pretty shallow.
One Friday night, with my mom away on another trip, it was just Doug and me in the house. Doug had this quirky habit of hating pants; he’d lounge around in a T-shirt and boxer briefs, his muscular frame impossible to ignore. And, well, let’s just say his package was hard to miss.
We decided to watch a movie that night—Doug’s choice, a slasher flick. I’ve never been a fan of scary movies. I was dressed comfortably in short shorts and a tank top, while Doug, true to form, wore a white T-shirt and black boxer briefs. As the movie played, I caught myself stealing glances at him. Each time he noticed, he’d flash a playful smile. A couple of times, he teased, “Hey, my eyes are up here,” and I’d mumble an apology, my cheeks burning bright red.
The movie got intense. A jump scare had me yelping, covering my eyes. “Oh my God, this is so scary!” I gasped.
“Yeah, it is,” Doug chuckled, glancing at me with amusement.
Then the bad guy leaped out again, and I screamed, instinctively diving into Doug’s arms. He wrapped me in a tight embrace, his strong hands rubbing my back soothingly.
“Whoa, you okay?” he asked, his voice warm.
“Oh my God, I can’t watch,” I mumbled, burying my face in his muscular chest. His touch was comforting, grounding. But then I looked up, and our eyes locked. He shook his head slightly, as if fighting an internal battle, before leaning in to kiss me. Our lips met, and we both moaned softly, the air electric. My hands slid up his body, wrapping around his neck, while his fingers cradled my head, his tongue exploring my mouth. I shifted, straddling his lap, grinding gently against him, feeling his arousal.
“Fuck,” Doug gasped, suddenly pushing me off. “I’m so sorry, Alex. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“It’s okay,” I said, my heart racing.
“No, no, seriously. Your mom—my wife—I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice heavy with guilt.
“You’re right,” I conceded, the weight of the moment sinking in. “I promise I won’t tell Mom about the kiss. I swear.”
“Thank you,” Doug said, relief flooding his voice. “I’m gonna head to bed. Night, son.”
“Night,” I replied, retreating to my room.
In my bedroom, I showered and slipped into bed, but sleep wouldn’t come. My mind replayed the kiss, Doug’s touch, his body. I lay there, touching myself, lost in fantasies of him.
About twenty minutes later, a knock startled me. “You up, Alex?” Doug’s voice came through the door.
“Uh, yeah,” I called, unlocking and opening it. Before I could say more, Doug pressed me against the wall, kissing me passionately. My legs wrapped around his waist as he lifted my 120-pound frame effortlessly, carrying me to the bed. We made out, frantic and hungry. I tugged off his shirt, tossing it into the corner, my fingers tracing the grooves of his muscular dad bod.
“God, you’re sexy,” I whispered.
Doug stood, and I sat up, peeling off my own shirt. I reached for the waistband of his boxer briefs, pulling them down slowly. In the dim light, I couldn’t see his cock clearly, but it was massive—two hands barely covered it. I dropped to my knees, wrapping my lips around the head, swirling my tongue. Doug groaned, “Holy fuck, baby, you’re so good at this.”
I looked up at him, taking him deeper, gagging slightly as I pushed myself to take three-quarters of his length. Gasping for air, I pulled back, stroking him. “God, Doug, you’re fucking huge.”
“Thanks, babe,” he chuckled, running his fingers through my hair. I went back to work, bobbing my head, earning moans of approval. “Mmm, you’re such a good boy,” he said. I pushed deeper, nearly taking his entire cock, choking but determined. He pulled out, leaned down, and kissed me. “You wanna bend over, son?” he asked, his voice low.
I grinned. “Yes, Daddy.” I stood, turning as he tugged down my shorts, revealing my ass.
He gave it a gentle smack. “Fuck, your ass is amazing, Alex.”
“Glad you like it,” I teased. He bent me over, his face diving between my cheeks, his tongue exploring my hole. I moaned, “Mmm, yes,” as he licked deeper, his hand stroking my shaft. He moved to my balls, then sucked the tip of my cock, sending shivers through me. “Holy fuck, Doug, that feels so good,” I gasped. His tongue traced from my cock back to my hole, driving me wild.
“Do you have lube, Alex?” he asked.
“Yeah, top drawer,” I replied. He grabbed the bottle, slicking his hand and rubbing it over his cock. He lifted my legs, exposing my hole, and slid a lubed finger inside. “Oh, fuck,” I moaned.
“Fuck, baby, you’re so tight,” he said.
“Yeah, this is gonna hurt,” I admitted.
“I’ll be gentle, honey, I promise,” Doug assured me. He rubbed his cock against my hole. “You ready?”
“Yeah, slow,” I said. He pressed in, spreading me open. “Ohhh, fuck,” I groaned, trying to relax. He pushed deeper, moaning, then pulled back and thrust again. “Omg, yes, fuck yes,” I gasped.
He went deeper, pulling back to check in. “You ready, son?”
“Yes, Daddy,” I replied. He thrust fully inside, filling me completely. “Oh my God, yes!” I yelled.
“Fuck, son, you’re so tight. This feels so good,” he groaned, fucking me with long, deep strokes, his hand stroking my cock.
“Daddy, I’m gonna cum!” I shouted, my body trembling as I came, cum spilling over my stomach. Seeing me climax pushed Doug over the edge.
“Fuck, Alex, I’m cumming,” he growled, filling me with his release. He stood there, still inside me, our breathing heavy. Then he leaned down, kissed me softly, and whispered, “Mind if I stay with you tonight, son?”
