Gains

Gains Bill Drake (billdrake@hotmail.com)

NOTICE: THE FOLLOWING IS FOR ADULTS ONLY. It contains explicit descriptions of sex between men.

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GAINS by Bill Drake

I don't know what's happened the last few years - maybe it's some porn trend or internet thing - but all of a sudden there seem to be more younger dudes into topping guys my age. They're still in the minority, but it used to be that every single younger guy you'd meet would either dismiss you for being over 35 or immediately want Daddy to tap his "boi pussy." Fine if that's your thing, but I'd always been a bottom and entering my middle age didn't change that.

Jason's the one who got me to see it as more than that. The young stud is a horny fucker and loves the emotional pull of the flipped script, of being the younger top. I met him when I was in New York for business, enjoying a meal and a martini alone at a restaurant bar. He was out with his buddies for a celebratory dinner for his 22nd birthday, and about ten minutes after a brief flit of eye contact as his group walked in, Jason sauntered right up next to me.

"No disrespect, sir, but you're an incredibly handsome man. Can I give you my number?" I'd learn later that Jason had played sports at his private college, but mostly the "jock" look was cultivated. Short hair, gym muscle, and cute dimpled looks. He was younger than I usually hooked up with, much less dated, but his confidence and respectful approach won me over. I smiled back and gave it to him.

"Best birthday present ever," he winked. That's what it's like with Jason. He could be the biggest stud, yet he'd make a 43 year old man feel like a million bucks. I went back to my hotel room with a happy glow, almost like a giddy teen. An hour later I heard from the guy and we ended up texting all night. It was the best foreplay.

The next morning, we had sex. I think if I'd lived in the same city Jason would have taken the slow approach. Then again, he was horny and impatient and we quickly progressed from a naked make-out session in my hotel bed to Jason lifting my legs and rimming me out. Oh fuck, that's normally the magic button to get me going, and this 22-year old knew how to push it. Repeatedly, deeper, and again. My was leaking and lying rock hard on my hairy belly.

"Fuck me, Jason," I urged.

He had that excited and cocky look on his face as he rose up, his thick, seven-inch tool throbbing and upright from his pubes. "God, I was hoping you'd be a bottom daddy," he hissed.

I didn't always like when guys went straight for the D word, but Jason wasn't wanting me to stuff his boi pussy, he was a stud in his own right, and at that moment I'd give the young dude just about anything he wanted.

"You got lube?" he asked.

I nodded and told him there was some in my bag in the bathroom and like an excited puppy he pounced off the bed and strode over to get it. Watching him walk back made my heart stop. He was lean but muscular and still largely smooth. His dick swayed rigidly with each step and I felt more excited to bottom than I had in a while.

He climbed up on the mattress and popped the lid of the lube. I don't know how much experience the guy had, but this was hardly his first time topping. He knew what to do, slowly applying the gel-like liquid to my pucker and gently easing it in with his fingers. More than that, he knew how to read my readiness.

"You're tight," he observed. "Been a while, Daddy?"

I nodded. "Fraid so." I'd had a major dry spell, which I was about to break in the biggest way.

He grinned and winked. "Don't worry, sir, it's like riding a bike..."

I chuckled and felt more of his digit press up into me. "That's nice, Jason."

He nodded and added another. "I can cut out the daddy talk if you like, sir," he said, twisting his fingers inside me to loosen up my resistance. "But you're 110 percent my type, Handsome as fuck."

I almost took him up on the offer, but his desire for me was very persuasive. "Nah, it's good," I said. "You go for older guys?" I asked, maybe stating the obvious.

"Understatement," Jason laughed, flashing those adorable dimples as he eased in a third finger. "I'm picky though. I saw you last night and knew I had to make a play for you... hot fucking businessman."

I growled, partly at the intensity of his words but mostly because of those thick fingers. Jason was right: it was like riding a bike and my hole was now feeling hungrier for a fuck.

Once again, his eyes trained on my face to read my reaction in tandem with my loosening hole. He pulled out and slicked up his erection. "I'm on PReP and only top..." he offered.

I knew then he wanted to bareback me. I was OK with that. "Go for it, stud..."

He lined up and gently penetrated me. I relaxed pretty quickly, it turned out, but Jason was still patient in the initial entry. "Yeah, you got this," my hookup top said encouragingly as he ran his hands up and down my furry abs and chest. "God, you got such a hot body, man."

"You too," I gasped, looking up at his smooth, gym toned body. Washboard abs, sinewed obliques, rounded shoulders. At that point I'd not had the experience putting out for a guy half my age. But Jason was the perfect first for a "top son" as he'd call himself eventually.

For now he held off on the sex talk and just concentrated on me. And his own pleasure as his dick sawed slowly in me, deeper and deeper. He was about 6'2" to my 6'1, but his position above me, placing my legs on his shoulders made him seem taller.

And then I got the best fuck of my life. Even if I was 43, Jason somehow put my previous tops to shame. Until then I'd either gotten inexperienced tops or guys who just were lousy at it. Or really agreessive power top guys. Jason had an eagerness, an excitement and openness that seemed youthful. Like he was so fricking grateful to tap my ass. But he also knew exactly what he was doing. Almost as if he was auditioning for the chance to fuck me regularly.

Whatever the reason, it worked for me. The gradually working up to hard-driving strokes that seemed to batter my prostate just right. His youthful yet throaty growl as he urged me to give it up.

"Come on, Daddy... cum for me... cum on my cock..." His verbal approach was a perfectly timed mantra to get me to the finish line. His thrusts were downright athletic now, hard and fast, and they pushed the semen right out of my balls.

"Fuck!" I cried, gripping his flexing obliques as I had the best orgasm I could remember. And in the fog of my post-cum torpor I enjoyed watching his body tense and his face get that telltale sign. "Damn, sir... I'm cumming too. Oh fuck, Oh FUCK!" Jason's hips locked and like that I knew I was getting seeded and good.

Our fuck hadn't been in the least romantic, but we enjoyed the intimacy afterward, just talking and lazily caressing each other's bodies.

"So... where do you live, Dan?" he asked me as his fingers ran throug the runny cum on my chest.

"Boston," I said, eyes sweeping down his naked beautiful body. Jason was more of a show-er and even soft his dong was thick and meaty. "But if there are more guys like you in New York, I'm coming more often," I joked.

It hadn't occurred to me this would be anything but a one-time hookup. Jason was just so forward and sex focused. And despite our flirty texting into the early hours of the morning, we weren't on date or anything. That's why I was surprised when this young hunk leaned up, resting on his forearm and looked at me with those same flirty eyes he'd given me in the restaurant. "No pressure, sir... but if you wanna hit me up next time you're in town, I'd be honored."

We'd had amazing sex just then. I knew it was one of the best for me, but I didn't know what this guy was feeling. His words were a huge ego boost, though. "Yeah?" I said. "You must really be into daddies." I mean, I had a pretty good body for my age, but I wasn't 20-fucking-2 with a six pack.

"My friends think I'm weird," he said. "But I can't remember the last time I fucked a guy under 40. Probably only once," he chuckled. He looked at me with a smirk. "How old are you, sir?"

"43," I answered.

That made him smile. "Perfect age," he said. Then, "this kind of talk bother you?" he asked.

I shrugged. "Honestly? I dunno. From anyone else it probably would."

That seemed to thrill the guy. "What makes me different, sir?" He leaned down and kissed my forehead and the simple, unexpected gesture caught me off guard and melted my defenses.

"It's embarrassing to admit this, but just now... you gave me the best fuck I've ever had." My face brightened red as I admitted it.

My words visibly excited Jason. He ran his hand along my belly, closer down to my soft cock. "Yeah, man? What's wrong with that?"

"I don't even know you," I explained. "You're just some hookup who came over to my hotel room."

Jason nodded thoughtfully, like that wouldn't have occurred to him as an issue. He was 22, and he loved sex and loved a conquest, and I gathered hookups were some of his hottest times. "Would it make you feel better if we went on a date next time you were in town? A nice dinner, a walk through Central Park, you know all that romantic shit," he winked.

Even if I didn't know him, his humor was growing on me, fast.

I chuckled. "Yeah, that sounds nice. But throw me another fuck like you just gave me and I'm good, dinner or no."

Jason leaned in for a soft kiss. Which turned into an extended make out time, until he finally pulled off. "All right, I gotta go, sir... but I'll be in touch."

"Yeah," I muttered. I had to shower up and check out to make my 10AM train at Penn Station.

Jason got dressed and with a smirk flashed me a final wink before walking out.

I didn't have high expectations. I didn't even expect Jason would follow through on his promise to stay in touch. But I texted with him on my Acela ride back to Boston. Just a couple of quick "had fun" texts. But the next day at work we texted more. Flirty but also low key updates on our day.

That's how it developed. From that point on Jason and I texted or talked every day, like boyfriends. And after a couple more visits to New York, we were in some weird middle ground between fuck buddies and a long-distance relationship. I knew Jason fucked other guys, but he also swore he was more about quality than quantity. And I alternated between staying off the apps and finding some occasional fun. To be honest, Jason spoiled me for other tops, but Boston's a big college town and maybe since I was more open to it now, I found a number of younger tops initiating things with me. Pursuing me. It was fun, actually, and I got off on letting an eager college dude tap my ass.

Those experiences in turn opened me up to the top son/bottom dad dynamic with Jason. Every other week or so, I'd go down to New York or he'd come up to Boston and we'd spend the weekend having hot, incredible sex. He was my Young Buck, my Sport, my Kiddo. And I was Mr. Paglarini, Mr. P, Sir, or Daddy. I indulged and encouraged his "dad fucker" talk and he pumped my ego, putting me and my middle-aged body on a pedestal. Telling me he was fucking the hottest daddy on the East Coast.

And, impossibly, Jason kept getting hotter. I knew he was the kind of "jock" guy to work out but he'd been hitting the weights hard and consciously gaining muscle. Like easily 15 pounds of muscle since I'd first met him. I liked Jason's body before and I loved his body now. His fucks grew even more athletic, though maybe some of that was the Sport-and-Mr. P sex talk we'd developed and honed.

I mostly enjoyed the gradual changes to his body, but I did mention it to him one weekend.

"Wasn't sure if the beef would be a turn off for ya," he smiled.

"Hardly," I assured him.

"Well... when you go after daddies as a top, I found you have better luck if you got some muscle to back it up, you know?"

I didn't know, exactly but I wasn't surprised. "Whatever works, man," I said. "I love it all."

"I'm glad," Jason said. "My strike out rate has gone way down over the last year."

I laughed.

"What?" he asked defensively.

"It hard for me to imagine you striking out with anyone," I replied.

His fingers traced along my belly. I didn't have Jason's six pack but my abdomen was pretty flat and firm for a guy my age. "Not everyone's like you, Mr. P. Some daddies need some coaxing.. need to be shown how hot it is to give it up for a young buck."

"Oh I think you've been showing me, all right," I growled in a sexy tone.

Jason smirked, climbing on top of my body again and holding his upper body above mine as he inched closer. "Is this right, sir?"

"Uh huh," I nodded. "My big young strong stud... able and ready to get it up several times in one go." By now I knew the words to get Jason going.

"Fuck, Mr. P," he hissed kind of humpting against my crotch with his renewed erection. It hadn't even been thirty minutes since we fucked. "You need it again, sir? Need that hard son bone in ya?"

"So help me kiddo, I think I do. A two-fer for my boy... whaddya say?'

With a growl Jason kissed me hard and kind of kicked my legs apart with his own.

It's now been four years. Four years since that night Jason Anderson walked up to me in that restaurant bar. And every day I get texts. Pictures of his body's development. He's still not a hairy guy, but he waxes smooth to play up his young buck persona. Looking like an ex-D1 football player with all that firm young beef rolling in big but well-defined muscle. He keeps his hair almost military short but a trimmed beard coming in, offsetting his baby-faced good looks. In return I'll send him pictures after the gym, or in my boxer briefs in bed.

Initially we didn't like acknowledging the sex we had on the side, but lately we share about that, too. Details of the men, height, looks, dick size, how good the sex was. It never matched our own, which was always a 10 on the scale. Once Jason found a 9, a dad whose cherry he busted. That was hot to hear about in detail.

The hottest I'd experienced was an 8. Two BC guys, a couple, wanted a threesome. One was eager and one was shy but the shy dude, a soccer player looking stud, went the wildest on my hole. It was hot, but it wasn't Jason hot.

My friends know about Jason and have met him. They know I have a complicated semi-relationship that keeps me from being interested in dating other guys. They don't approve, really, but I don't give a fuck. No man can rock my world like my Young Buck.

It's my 48th birthday, and I get a morning text from Jason. Like many others, he's shirtless and showing off his gains. Looking big and beefy and studly as ever, with his sweats riding just right on his flat waist, the bulge of his soft dick pressing out on the material. "Happy birthday Mr. P!" is the message.

I smile as I squeeze my morning wood and send back a reply. "It's sure a happy one now sport! Miss you," I say. I've tried not to be clingy with Jason ever, but we've gotten to the point where we comfortable saying stuff like that.

"Miss you too, sir," he replies. "What would you say about me coming up there?"

I smile and type back. This would be a great birthday present. "You know you're welcome to visit any time. You thinking this weekend?"

I have to wait a second as he types back. Then: "I'm thinking of more than a visit, Mr. P. I may have a job opportunity in Boston."

I know this needs more than a text conversation. I call him up.

It's early, and his voice is still groggy. "Hey Mr. P," he says as he answers.

"You serious about the job?" I'm excited but a little pissed off, in case he was dangling the possibility idly.

"Yeah, I'm serious," he replies. "It's not a done deal, but I've lined up a couple of interviews. I wouldn't do anything without checking with you first."

I can hear the hope and excitement in his voice and it's like our first weekend hookup all over again. "I thought you loved New York," I say. The flip side was that I knew Jason wasn't so crazy about Boston. We'd have a good time when we visited but the city always felt small and provincial to him.

"I do. But you're there Mr. P... and a young buck needs his Dad, you know."

Those words hit me. Emotionally, sexually. That's how it was with Jason, both those levels so intertwined. "I know kiddo. And believe me, I need my son top."

"But..." he prompts.

"But I don't want you to feel tied down. You know, if you moved here for me."

I can almost hear him think on the other end of the phone. He knows what I mean. We haven't been exclusive so far and maybe we wouldn't still, but that would be harder being in the same city.

"We'll figure that out, Daddy. OK?"

"OK," I say. I know we have a lot of talking to do about our relationship. But Jason could sweet talk just about anyone, and I already feel any hesitation melting away. "When's your interview?"

"Thursday," he replies. "I'm taking Friday off as well. I figured maybe we could go down to the Cape or something and I could give you my birthday present in person." He says it with a smirk that lets me know my birthday present is going to involve his cock in my ass.

"Looking forward to it, Stud. I can't believe I'm forty-fucking-eight," I laugh.

"Gonna make you count em off, sir," Jason smirk. "While I fuck you."

My hardon throbs. I almost think we're gonna have phone sex. We've had it before. But I have to get ready for work. "Can't wait, Kiddo," I growl. "I have to go now, man..."

Jason laughs. "All right. Talk to you tonight, Mr. P. Love ya."

I pause. This is the first time Jason has said that to me. My heart pounds. "Love ya too, Buck."

I can hear the smile on the other end before we hang up.