Joaquin 2.0 - Part 6 by Stimle (stimle@yahoo.com)
Copyright © 2024. All rights reserved. This story may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author.
The shifting and dipping of the mattress jostled me out of a fitful sleep. As I swam toward the surface of consciousness, images drifted past me in the murk: me on my knees sucking cock, Rundy being felt up like a piece of meat, Dad stripped and fondled...
I woke with a start and sat up. Rundy was on all fours next to me getting face-fucked by Chad. Chad was kneeling, pants and underwear at his knees, one hand on his hip and the other fisted in Rundy's hair, holding his head in place as his dick plumbed his throat like he was snaking a drain.
The room was silent except for Rundy's grunts of pleasure and the sound of Chad's balls slapping against his chin. He was wearing just his briefs, his hard on jutting out like a Tomahawk missile, straining the thin, cum-soaked cotton to the point where it looked painful.
I palmed myself as I watched Chad throat-fuck him, watched as pre-cum and slobber spilled over his lips and ran down his chin. The way his mouth was working, and the enthusiastic noises he made as he took Chad's cock deeper and deeper, made it look like he was a team player. And dang, but it made my dick ache!
It was also clear he'd shot another load in his briefs. How many was this now?
Movement to my left caught my eye and I turned to see Dillon, shirtless and with his pants open, leaning against my desk. He was holding his phone up and it took me a couple of seconds to realize he was filming them. Holy crap but that was hot!
"Mmm," I whimpered, as I pushed on my dick with the heel of my hand.
"It's rude to stare, Joaquin," Dillon said, never taking his eyes off Chad and Rundy. "Besides, you're missing all the action." I turned back just as Chad pulled Rundy off his dick and put poppers to his nose. Rundy sniffed deep and let out a long sigh. I sighed too and squeezed my dick.
"I'll send you a copy if you want," Dillon said, tapping his screen and flashing a grin. "You have the same number, right?"
I nodded and returned my attention to Chad and Rundy. He capped the poppers and dropped them on the mattress. Then he glanced my way and broke into a laugh. "I don't know who loves those more, you or him."
Taking his dick in hand and I licked my lips at the sight of it: eight inches long and thick around as a can of Red Bull. I remembered it well from the night he fucked my mouth.
Now it was right in Rundy's face and I watched as my best friend's eyes tracked it as it swung back and forth like a pendulum. I groaned lowly as I slid my hands into my briefs and gripped my hard shaft.
Chad slapped his dick against Rundy's cheeks and though Rundy flinched and jerked his head back, his eyes never left the thick shaft.
"Yeah, you know you want it," Chad taunted, leaning forward so his dick was almost touching Rundy's lips. "Just like your boy, J." Rundy bit his lower lip, his brow furrowing in consternation. Then he reached out, wrapped his right hand around it gently, and guided it to his mouth.
"Holy shit," I said as Chad's dick slid about three quarters of the way into his mouth. Rundy sputtered and pulled off. Shaking his head, he took a deep breath, flared his nostrils, and took it back in.
"Oh yeah," Chad said. He cupped the back of Rundy's head and held him in place, talking him through his struggles until he opened his throat and took it all the way to the back of his mouth.
"That's a good cocksucker," Chad said, catching my eye as he began to rock his hips back and forth. "Just like your buddy, J."
Rundy moaned in content at the comment, greedily sucking and slurping as Chad carded his fingers through his thick hair.
I noticed a half-empty bottle of Gatorade on the mattress. Thirsty, I grabbed it and took a drink. It was warm and tasted funky. I squinted at the label and, confirming it wasn't past its expiration date, took another drink before returning my gaze to the scene before me.
A sizable dollop of pre-cum had formed at the head of Rundy's dick, which was still trapped in his briefs, curved like a crescent moon, and I watched as a thin line of semen - like the spun silk of a spider's web - stretched down to the mattress below, creating a small puddle.
Rundy continued to suck, and it almost looked like he was nursing, drooling as Chad's eight-inch pole sluiced in and out of his mouth. The puddle on the mattress was quickly becoming a pool.
I took note of how he gazed dreamily up at Chad, his glassy hazel eyes looking worshipful beneath fluttering eyelids as he continued to suckle. His mouth was stretched wide around the fat, vein-etched cock, and tears ran from the corners of his eyes, mingling with the snot running from his nose and the pre-cum dripping from the sides of his mouth.
"Look at him," Chad laughed. "He's a bigger homo than you, Joaquin, if that's even possible." He patted Rundy's cheek and ruffled his hair, then turned to me. "How is it Danielle doesn't know you two're queer for each other?"
I didn't respond. Dillon, still filming, stepped behind Rundy and tried to remove his briefs. They kept getting caught on his erection though, and without setting his phone down, there was no way he could get them off. He eventually gave up and settled for tugging them down over Rundy's butt.
My breath caught at the sight of Rundy's ass - it was so perfectly round - and I was unable to stifle a moan as Dillon ran a hand slowly over the naked curve. He looked over at me and grinned as he waggled his eyebrows.
"Oh fuck," Chad croaked - I'd almost forgotten he was there - "I'm gonna cum." He tightened his grip on Rundy's hair with one hand and put the other on Rundy's shoulder to steady himself. "I'm gonna cum, man! I'm gonna cum! I'm gon-UNNNNHHH!!!"
And then he was emptying himself into Rundy's mouth. "Nggghhhnnn," Rundy moaned as he slurped and swallowed, and dang all if he didn't miss a drop!
"Oh yeah, take it all you faggot cock sucker!" Chad groaned, throwing his head back. "Shit man, you have a mouth like a fucking Hoover!" He pulled his dick from Rundy's mouth and slapped it against his cheeks, nose, and chin.
A moment later, Rundy let out a long moan of his own. His body shuddered and I watched as his dick, fully erect and straining against the translucent white cotton of his briefs, began to pump out its load, spurt after spurt after spurt. It seemed to go on forever until he collapsed onto his elbows, spent, his eyes rolled up, moaning as cum trickled from the corner of his mouth.
Chad slid off the bed and pulled his pants and briefs up. He reached around Rundy and dragged his fingers through the cum that had leaked through his underwear, then slipped them one at a time into my best friend's mouth. "You're a cum-slut, just like Joaquin," he said as Rundy licked and sucked each finger individually. If Rundy heard the taunt, he gave no indication.
Meanwhile, Dillon finally managed to work Rundy's briefs off. The crotch was completely cum-soaked and almost transparent, leaving nothing to the imagination. He tossed them on my face and cum smeared my lips and chin.
Then he drizzled gel from a small tube over his index finger and pushed it into Rundy's hole. Rundy's eyes popped open and I swear I heard him squeak. I blushed and gripped my rock-hard cock even tighter.
Rundy's face was a twisted mask of discomfort as a second finger joined the first. But a moment later his eyes suddenly widened, his breath hitched, and then he sighed. When his eyelids began to flutter, I knew Dillon had hit his prostate. I giggled.
"What's so funny?" Dillon asked.
"You found Rundy's bitch button."
"Yeah, and he likes it, see?" He twisted his fingers.
"Oh Gods!" Rundy squealed in pleasure, clutching the blankets as Dillon's fingers found their mark. "Oh Gods, oh Gods, oh Gods!"
I took another slug of the warm Gatorade to slake my parched mouth and watched as Dillon expertly fingered Rundy's hole open, eventually adding a third finger and more lube. The whole time, Rundy moaned and writhed, arching his back like a cat and pushing back onto Dillon's fingers.
Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, he grabbed Rundy by the ankles and, in a swift, fluid move, flipped him onto his back. I stood up.
"What're you doing?"
"Don't ask questions you already know the answers to, Joaquin," he replied, throwing me a look that made my face redden. He pushed his jeans and fire engine-red trunks to mid-thigh and gave his dick - it was as big and beautiful as I remembered - a few quick tugs. Then he rolled on a condom, slathered it with more of the lube, and threw one of Rundy's legs over his shoulder. In position, he aimed the blunt head of his cock at Rundy's entrance and pushed in.
"AHHHH!!!" Rundy gasped, his back arching up off the bed as Dillon's cock breached him. Dillon pulled out a couple of inches and then thrust back in, sinking even deeper.
"Ohhhh!!!"
I watched in amazement - one hand tugging on my cock - as Dillon began to fuck Rundy.
"Oh gods!" Rundy wailed, his head bouncing off the mattress as each stroke drove deeper than the one before. "Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods!"
As I pawed at my dick, a familiar tingling sensation began to build in my balls.
Dillon leaned over, sweat dripping off his brow onto Rundy's cheek. He slanted a look at me. "Is this what you wanted?"
"Yessss..." Rundy and I both moaned at the same time. I began to cum.
Chad's eyes went wide as semen squirted through my fingers. "Y-you just came without touching yourself, didn't you?" he said. "You both did. Wow, you really are a couple of fags, aren't you?" I felt my face redden and I ran my hand over the front of my wet briefs.
Meanwhile, Dillon continued to plow Rundy, hips pistoning in and out in a slow, steady rhythm. "Oh, fuck me," Rundy moaned, one arm over his head, the other covering his face. His dick, hard ago, also bounced along to the sodomy, slapping against his taut abdomen. "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me."
I lost track of time as I watched him fuck Rundy. On his back. On his belly. On his side. At some point I realized Chad was sitting next to me, his arm slung across my shoulders. "Take it out," he urged, tugging at my briefs. "You know you want to fuck him."
"Yeah," Dillon goaded. "Don't be a pussy. Go on, grab a rubber."
Instead, I fled to the bathroom, Rundy's moans of ecstasy echoing in my ears.
I peed, washed my hands, and then stared at my reflection in the mirror. I was a mess! My hair was sticking up all over, my nipples were red and swollen, and there was dried cum spattered all over my upper body and face.
Shaking my head in disgust, I wet a washcloth and wiped myself clean. Then I took another look in the mirror. What was I doing? Right now, my best friend was across the hall - in my bed! - getting fucked by my former boss and a Grade-A dillweed; earlier, my dad had been stripped and felt up; and it had all been orchestrated by my future father-in-law, who, it just so happens, was fucking me on the side!
Somehow I managed to find what was left of my backbone and dignity. With a new resolve, I tamped down my disheveled hair, took a deep breath, and - Gatorade in hand - stormed across the hall, only to freeze in place when I stepped into the open doorway of my room.
Dillon was on his knees on my bed, Rundy's legs over his shoulders, fucking the daylights out of him while Chad straddled his chest, holding his hands to balance himself as he fed him his dick. And Rundy, his lips and face smeared with pre-cum, was sucking and slobbering away on Chad's knob.
Rundy had a cock in his mouth and his ass?! My eyes about popped out of my head and I slid my hand back into my briefs and watched, new resolve all but forgotten, as my best friend got fucked in both ends.
Dillon and Chad were moving in countermotion to each other. When Dillon thrust in, Chad pulled out; when Chad pushed in, Dillon withdrew. Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. It was an obscene push-me-pull-you rhythm, and I couldn't take my eyes off it.
I watched for - I don't know how long - and was about to step into the room to get a closer look when I heard a thud from down the hall. I almost missed it over the sound of sex and skin slapping skin, but it sounded like it came from my dad's room. Had he fallen out of bed?
Reluctantly pulling myself away from the spectacular debauchery taking place in front of me, I went to investigate. When I neared his door, I noticed it was open a few inches and the light was on. That was weird; was he awake?
I inched my way closer and peered inside and my jaw dropped. Ron was standing next to Dad's bed, shirtless, his pants open and pushed down to his thighs, and Dad - in only his underwear - was on his knees in front of him.
I put my hand on the door frame to steady myself and watched as Ron, fingers threaded through Dad's hair to hold him in place, drove his cock in and out of Dad's mouth, while Dad, eyes glassy and cheeks flushed, seemed to be doing his best to keep up. There was an open bottle of Gatorade on the nightstand next to the now-empty one Dillon had left earlier.
Shocked and curious, I inched closer and saw that Dad's eyes, like Rundy's, were glazed and unfocused as he sucked and slurped. There were smears of what I assumed was pre-cum on his cheeks and chin, as well as a wet spot on the front of his briefs where his leaking erection had soaked through the thin white cotton. And while he hadn't cum, judging by the way his dick was straining at the fabric -- so much so, his circumcision scar was clearly visibly - and the amount of pre-cum he was leaking, I didn't think it would be much longer.
Ron pulled out for a moment and ran the head of his dick over Dad's lips like it was ChapStick, smearing them with wet, sticky goo before pushing back in. He must've sensed my presence, because after a few seconds he looked up at me, smiling when our eyes met. "Come on in," he beckoned, not missing a beat as he resumed thrusting. There was a slap-slap-slap noise as his balls smacked against Dad's chin.
"H-how did you get in here?" I stammered.
He nodded at the nightstand where Dad's keys lay. "He left these on the seat next to him at the restaurant. I was just returning them."
I slowly entered the room, staring mesmerized as Ron continued to plunder Dad's mouth. If I thought Rundy sucking dick was hot, seeing my dad getting face-fucked by Ron had me ready to blow another load on the spot!
I bit my lower lip and groaned as I absently slid my hand into my briefs, my fingers tangling in cum-matted pubic hair as I reached for my dick, which had suddenly sprung back to life.
I couldn't understand why I was getting so turned on by seeing my dad - one of the most godly and devout men I knew, my personal hero - on his knees sucking my future father-in-law's dick. I should've felt shame for him, or myself, seeing him reduced to nothing more than a cocksucker, but all I felt was arousal, and I wanted to see more.
My mouth was suddenly dry and I took another sip of my Gatorade. I fisted my hand around my dick, tugging it as I witnessed my dad's defilement, fascinated by the way his lips wrapped around Ron's cock, forming a big O as it sluiced in and out of his mouth. But it was the throaty, guttural noises coming from deep inside him - the sucking, slurping, and groans of pleasure he made as Ron's cock battered the back of his throat, the way he gagged and drooled - that really turned me on and made my heart race.
"If I don't slow down, I'm gonna blow a load right down his throat," Ron teased. Our eyes met again and he winked.
Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!
Moments later, Dad stiffened, and his eyes rolled back. His jaw went slack and Ron's cock slipped from his mouth. He let out a long, low moan and his body shuddered, and then, like Rundy a few minutes earlier, began to cum.
I sucked in a breath and stared wide-eyed as the wet spot began to spread, covering nearly the entire front of his underwear. Holy shit! My dad - my dad, for fuck's sake! - just blew a load in his briefs without touching himself, and it was the hottest thing I'd ever witnessed!
Ron shoved his cock back into Dad's mouth, and my own dick - fully erect and throbbing - nearly exploded when, only seconds later, he began to cum and Dad swallowed it all down!
Ron pulled his dick from Dad's mouth and tucked himself into his boxer briefs. He pulled his pants up but didn't fasten them. Then he picked up the Gatorade and held it to Dad's mouth. "Here you go, Greg. Drink up, now."
He tilted the bottle up, pushing Dad's head back as he did, and I watched as his lips wrapped around the mouth of the bottle just like they had around Ron's dick. His Adam's apple rose and fell as he swallowed, and something about the way the muscles in his throat moved had me whimpering.
Ron set the bottle back on the nightstand while Dad licked his lips and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Then he reached for the waistband of Ron's underwear. What the heck?!
"Easy there, big guy," Ron laughed as he caught both of Dad's hands in one of his. "Plenty of time for that later."
He put his other hand around Dad's nape and drew him forward, pulling his face into his crotch. "What did you call him?" he asked as Dad mouthed up and down the length of his erection. "The most godly man you know?"
I gulped.
His point made, Ron continued. "You know, I've been curious about Greg since we met. That day I got him drunk at lunch" - he held his hand up - "yeah, I'm sure you figured by now that was no accident. After Joyce and I had dinner with your parents a few times, I got the feeling I could maybe take things further with your dad if the situation ever presented itself. So, one Sunday when I knew your mom would be out, I... well, let's just say, I helped the situation present itself. Of course, by the time we got back to your house, your mom was home so I couldn't test my theory. Had I known she'd be there, I'd have pulled into a parking garage and" - he glanced down at Dad and waggled his eyebrows - "well, you know."
I was too stunned to speak. Ron had tried to-- I drew myself up and took in a deep breath but stopped when he reached into his pocket and pulled out a bottle of poppers. He looked over at me, mouth curved into that familiar smile and tossed them to me. "Would you like to do the honors?"
I uncapped the vial, but when I raised it to my nose, Ron put up his hand. "Uh-uh." He pointed at Dad. "Not you, him."
"What?"
"Let's see if your dad's a poppers slut like you."
I gasped. A poppers slut? Like me? My dick lurched.
Ron noticed and laughed. He pulled Dad to his feet, grabbed his butt with both hands, and held him close, kneading his ass and grinding their crotches together while he licked the shell of his ear. After several seconds, he let Dad flop onto his back on the king-sized bed.
Dad moaned. Both arms were over his head, exposing his bushy, sweat-matted armpits. He was hard again, his briefs stretched vulgarly over his enormous boner, which was lying sideways beneath the thin, cum-soaked fabric. If possible, it looked even bigger than it had earlier, and I swear I could see it throbbing. I couldn't take my eyes off it.
He reached over and took the poppers from me and opened them. "Just take a deep breath, big guy," Ron encouraged as Dad looked up at him. "I promise it will feel amazing." He winked at me again and then shoved the bottle under dad's nose. "Just ask Joaquin."
I stood, my mouth agape, as I witnessed my dad inhale poppers for the first time. Holy crap!
"Wha - Oh fuuuuuccckkkk..." Dad moaned as his body arched up off the bed. I was shocked. I'd never heard him use that word before. Ron leaned in, grabbed him by the hair, and pulled him into a sitting position. Dad grunted in protest as Ron forced three more hits into each nostril, holding the bottle in place longer and longer each time he switched sides.
"Ohhhh...shiiiiitttt..." Dad continued to groan, eyelids fluttering as the full effect of the poppers hit him.
Ron eased him back down, capped the bottle, and tossed it back to me. "Your turn."
I caught it but hesitated.
"Don't be such a fucking pussy, Joaquin. If you don't want to see your dad get railed by half the guys at the fire station - and believe me, they'll come if I call - then you'd better damn well do what I tell you."
I looked from him to my dad and then at the poppers.
"Oh, come on, he fucking loves it," Ron said as he took the bottle from me again and shoved it back under Dad's nose. "Look at him."
I glanced at Dad and, oh shit, he was moaning and sniffing... and - fuck! - he was rubbing his boner! Ron gave him another hit.
"See? What did I tell you?" He pushed Dad back down on the bed and thrust the poppers back at me. I didn't move and he sighed again. "Oh, for fuck's sake. He's not going to remember a thing tomorrow."
I looked up at him. What did that mean? How could he be sure? Had he--
Squealing noises from down the hall floated into the room and Ron smiled. "Your buddy either."
He pulled Dad toward the foot of the bed and slid his hands from the back of Dad's thighs to his knees - bending them - and then back up. When he reached the monster bulge, he began to caress and fondle it. Dad moaned, his legs fell open, and he began to thrust up into Ron's cupped hand. Oh my God!
"Look familiar, Truck Boy?" he said, and a vision of me in the back of that truck danced before my eyes. Watching myself in the mirrored ceiling tiles, my legs spread like a whore - just like Dad's were now - as Jack took my virginity.
I slid my hand into my underwear again as I watched Ron stroke his fingers over the spot between Dad's balls and his hole. Watched how he rubbed little circles with his thumb over his center. Watched the way Dad's dick twitched and pulsed as it struggled and strained against the confines of his briefs. Heard the way his voice caught, the little noises of pleasure he was making.
"Yeah, you like this, Greg, don't you?" Ron whispered, his face pressed to Dad's ear, nuzzling it.
"Unhhh, mmmm," Dad moaned, pushing against the fingers stroking him.
"I knew it," Ron said, drilling his tongue into Dad's ear.
I don't know how long I stood there as he fondled my dad, marveling at how a simple touch could take him to the brink. I watched him tease Dad over and over and over, never giving him the release I knew he wanted and needed.
He leaned in and started blowing on Dad's hole, then he started tonguing it through his underwear.
"Unh!" Dad grunted as Ron lashed at him.
Ron's head rose up from between Dad's legs and he held the poppers out to me again. "Come on," he said, "give him a hit."
I shook my head slowly. Two minutes ago I thought I wanted to see more. But now, as the reality of the situation began to come into focus and take shape - the reality that my dad was about to get fucked - I changed my mind. I moved to take a step back, but found my feet were mired in place.
"You knew this was going to happen," Ron continued, holding his arm out, that little brown bottle of happy just inches from me, beckoning. "I saw you at dinner. You knew then. You knew both your dad and Rundy were getting fucked tonight."
I shook my head. "No," I said, my voice shaking.
"Bull. Shit." He pressed his thumb against Dad's hole which was barely protected by the thin strip of cotton, eliciting another moan. "You know you can't put the genie back in the bottle, right? Besides, I think you want to see me fuck your dad." He glanced down at my boner. "I can tell you're enjoying the show."
My face reddened and I covered my crotch with the hand that wasn't already in them squeezing my leaking dick. He continued to rub his thumb back and forth over Dad's hole, and now Dad was pushing back, grinding his ass into the touch. I yanked my hand from my underwear. My eyes met Ron's and he nodded to his outstretched hand, to those damn poppers. "Come on, Joaquin," he coaxed.
I shook my head again, this time with less conviction.
"If you want these," he said, waving the brown vial at me as he continued stroking Dad, "and this" - he squeezed his own hard shaft - "you need to give him a hit. Right. Fucking. Now. Come on and quit being such a pussy."
I took the bottle and sat on the bed. I eased Dad's head into my lap and stared down at his handsome face as I gently brushed my fingers through his hair. His brown eyes, glazed and heavy-lidded, stared up at me, but I knew he wasn't seeing anything. Then, my hands trembling, I uncapped the poppers and put them to his nose, holding the bottle in place for several seconds while plugging the other nostril.
"Ohhhh," Dad sighed deeply, his brows creasing and then relaxing as the fumes from the poppers began to really kick in.
"There you go," Ron said as he reached over and clapped my shoulder. "Now the other side. That's right. And... back again."
I was so dick-drunk with lust that I lost track of how many times I switched the bottle back and forth under Dad's nose, suddenly so fucking turned on at the site of him - the most godly man I knew - drunk and high on poppers, with a boner bigger than anything I'd ever seen, the flared head enormous as it strained against the translucent, cum-soaked cotton.
A few seconds later, the head of his dick popped over the waistband. It looked smooth like a polished apple and was slick with precum. His moans got louder and then suddenly he grunted, his body lurched, and he started to cum. Because his dick was pinned against his belly by the elastic, his load sprayed up his abs and chest, even spattering his neck and chin. Holy crap!
It made me think of the time in junior high when my parents took me and Rundy to Yellowstone and we saw Old Faithful erupt...
As his second orgasm of the last half hour subsided, a dazed half-smile spread across his face and his eyes slid shut. Ron tugged Dad's underwear off and tossed them at me. Holding the poppers in one hand, I caught the briefs with the other and held them to my nose.
"Mmmm," I sighed as I sniffed them. My head was starting to feel a little foggy, and the mixture of cum, musk, and sweat only seemed to intensify the sensation. I took another deep breath, followed by another, and then another.
Ron's raucous laughter snapped me out of my stupor and it took me a few seconds to realize I was sniffing my dad's briefs instead of the poppers. I also realized they were still wet with his earlier load, and that the cool sensation on my face was a smear of cum.
I dropped the briefs on the bed and put the poppers to my nose instead, sniffing continuously until I collapsed onto my back alongside Dad, palming my erection as my head orbited the earth.
When I finally touched back down, I saw that Ron had rolled Dad onto his stomach and had him positioned so his bent knees were beneath him and his butt was in the air. Dad was looking at me, but like before, I was pretty sure he wasn't seeing much of anything. The effects of the poppers, combined with his inebriated state, had him flying higher than a kite. Heck, I could practically see clouds reflected in his eyes.
He was moaning though, and Ron's hand was running up and down the curve of his butt.
He picked up a small bottle of gel and I sat up straight, back stiff. When he squirted some of the contents onto his finger and slid it along Dad's crease, I shook my head. My mind changed, again, I stumbled up off the bed and careened toward the door, poppers still in my hand. Something made me stop, though, and I turned and watched as Ron, his eyes locked on mine, slid his index finger slowly and deliberately into Dad's hole.
Dad's eyes snapped open and then rolled up. A low, guttural moan slipping from his lips.
Oh. Fuck.
As Ron continued, I stared, fascinated at the way Dad's anal knot puckered and seemed to mold itself around his finger as it moved in and out of his hole. A few seconds later, he slid a second finger in and began to twist and turn and scissor them, stretching Dad's opening. Then he began to crook them, widening the circle and stretching him even further. That's when Dad's dick really began to throb back to life and his low moans of pleasure got louder.
"Oh God," he sighed breathily, and I knew Ron had found his prostate. He began to grunt and huff as the fingers sawed in and out, his eyes rolling back, lids fluttering, breath catching as Ron's knowledgeable fingers touched places inside him nobody, other than maybe his doctor, ever had.
After a minute or so, Ron drizzled more of the lubricant over his fingers and slipped a third one in. "Oh God," Dad slurred, drooling as his eyes rolled so far back I could see the whites. "Oh yes... More..."
More?! His grunts dissolved into another long, low moan, and then, to my astonishment, he began to push back onto the fingers!
"Fuck, fuck, fuck..." Dad moaned - those words again! - as Ron worked his fingers in and out and round and round. "Oh, Christ, yes..."
I took another sniff of poppers and then I was moaning along with him, my dick leaking and throbbing as Ron continued to open him up and prepare him for fucking.
"What is it with you `godly' men?" he said, his tone derisive. "Get a few drinks in you and suddenly you're sucking cock, cursing like sailors, and taking the Lord's name in vain."
He swiped his fingers across the front of his boxer briefs which were damp with pre-cum and Dad's slobber and put them to Dad's mouth. "Your dad and Rundy's dad were college roommates, is that right?"
I nodded, staring as Dad licked and then sucked Ron's fingers. Fuuuuck.
"Yeah, I'd be really surprised if this isn't his first time sucking dick. I bet he and Rundy's dad were butt-buddies way back."
I met Ron's eyes and an image of Dad with Rundy's dad--Something snapped inside me and suddenly I wanted to see Dad get fucked. I remembered how ruthlessly and thoroughly I'd been fucked in that hotel room back in December, and I wondered what it would be like to see Dad fucked like that now. To see his legs up over Ron's shoulders, Dillon's shoulders... hell, anybody's shoulders, EVERYBODY'S shoulders. To see his face when that most sacred of ports was breached and plundered for the first time. To hear him beg for more.
The idea of Dad being marked and maybe even bred, the way I'd been by Jack in the back of his truck, the feeling of being filled with cum... The thought was mind-blowing.
A loud moan dragged me out of my thoughts. Ron had pulled Dad's hard dick down between his legs and was sweeping the calloused pad of his thumb up the underside of his shaft and across the sensitive tip while the three fingers of his other hand continued to slide in and out of his butt.
"Oh! Oh! OHHH!" Dad moaned and wailed as he weakly slapped at the mattress.
Ron nodded at me and I gave Dad more poppers. I took another couple of hits for myself.
More noises came from down the hall. "Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!" I heard Rundy cry.
Ron rumbled a laugh. "Sounds like your boy's getting nailed good."
I cocked my head and listened for several seconds to the sounds Rundy was making. From the "hooos!" and "heees!" I knew he was riding somebody's dick. I looked at Ron again and suddenly I wanted to see my dad ride a dick. I wanted to see him bounce up and down on a thick cock as a whole new world opened before his eyes.
Dad grunted and I saw that Ron had rolled him onto his back again. He still had his fingers inside him, twisting and turning, hooking and crooking, and the way Dad moaned and writhed - the way his body undulated and arched up off the mattress - all made it seem like he was being rewired, like Ron was somehow rewriting his internal coding.
He was hard again too, and I wondered if there was Viagra or something in the pills Dillon gave him earlier.
"Give him more Gatorade and then another hit of poppers," Ron ordered, and fuck if my own dick didn't twitch as I obeyed his command, all thoughts of Viagra gone. Why was I listening to him? What was the matter with me?
I sat on the bed next to Dad. His arms were splayed over his head again, and his upper body was sheened with perspiration and cum. I could smell the mix of deodorant - Old Spice - and body odor coming from his sweat-matted pits.
I lifted his head, took the open bottle of Gatorade from the nightstand, and put it to his lips. He gulped thirstily. I set the bottle down, wiped his mouth, and then put the poppers under his nose. He inhaled without being told.
"Fuuuuccckkk..." He reached for his dick but Ron's sharp "no" stopped him. He inserted a fourth finger into Dad's ass and he cried out in a whimper, "Ohhh... fuuuuuucccckkkk. Oh God, oh yes... more..."
His dick was thick and hard, twitching and throbbing, pointing up in a 45-degree angle as Ron continued to work him over. And even though he'd already shot twice tonight, it was dripping pre-cum like a leaking faucet, and I watched in dumbstruck awe as it pooled in the concave of his belly.
I was so mind-blown at Dad's reaction to being defiled that I didn't realize Ron had stripped naked and was rolling on a condom. He caught my eye and winked, then pulled his fingers out of Dad.
"Noooo..." Dad protested at the sudden withdrawal, his voice almost a whimper. "More..."
What the heck?!
Ron took an ankle in each hand and lifted Dad's legs, spreading them wide as he hitched them over his shoulders. Dad's butt popped up off the mattress, exposing his hairy crease. Ron slicked his sheathed cock with the lube and dragged it back and forth over Dad's hole.
"Ohhhh," Dad grunted softly and arched into the touch as Ron continued to tease his sensitive hole. "You don't know how long I've wanted to do this," he groaned as he lined up the head of his cock with Dad's entrance, leaned forward, and slowly let gravity take over, sinking deep into his target.
"Oh Christ!" Dad cried out at the invasion, slapping at the sheets as he came out of the ass-play stupor he'd been in for the last several minutes. Ron pulled out just as slowly and then pushed back in. Dad's eyes went wide and he opened his mouth again, but nothing came out. When Ron eased in and out a third time, Dad's eyelids fluttered, his breath caught, and he began to push back onto him.
That seemed to be Ron's cue, because he licked his lips and began a steady pump in and out, in and out, in and out, eventually settling into a slow rhythm, his powerful hips thrusting, long and deep into Dad. His hands were going to leave marks on Dad's flanks.
"Oh God, oh God, oh God," Dad moaned, clawing at the sheets. "Yes, yes, yes..."
Oh my God... my dad was getting fucked. He was really getting fucked! I couldn't be sure, but it sounded to me like he was liking it! WHAT THE EVER-LOVING FUCK WAS GOING ON?!
"Oh yeah, take if Greg," Ron grunted. "Take my cock. Show Joaquin what a godly man you are."
Dad's head turned to me as Ron continued to fuck him, alternating between long, slow strokes and short, powerful jabs. His eyelids fluttered and rolled back, and more drool ran from the corner of his mouth. My own hole clenched at the memory of Jack's powerful shaft and how it found my pleasure spot - my bitch button - that first time. And judging by the way Dad's body moved, the way his back arched up, the expressions on his face, the noises he was making, I knew Ron had found his prostate again.
I took another sip of Gatorade, grabbed my throbbing dick, and watched as my future father-in-law gave my dad a thorough introduction to the most carnal pleasure of the flesh.
"Ohhhh... mmmnnngghhh..." Dad moaned as Ron continued to thrust into him. The force of his strokes seemed to increase and as Ron's balls slapped Dad's ass in a steady, staccato beat, I wondered if there was a part of Dad that knew what was happening. Was he aware that he was being fucked by a man?
"You like that, don't you?" Ron said, and I thought he was talking to me. But when I looked at him, I saw he was staring at Dad. "Yeah, I can tell you like it hard. I'd love to ring your bell all night long."
"Ungh! Ungh! Ungh! Ungh! Ungh!" Dad wailed. His dick was at full mast, curved like a scythe and spraying pre-cum as it bobbed up and down, smacking his taut belly with each powerful thrust, while his arms flailed, and his upper body bounced off the mattress.
One hand found mine and he laced our fingers together, squeezing tightly as he cried, "Oh, yes! Oh, yes! Fuuuuuuccck... More... more..."
"Aren't you just a little curious?" Ron asked, I'm not sure how much later. It could've been fifteen seconds; it could've been fifteen minutes.
"What?" I replied distractedly, reluctantly pulling my gaze away from his dick as it pumped in and out of Dad.
"Get down there," Ron goaded. "Get a better look."
I was feeling even more light-headed now, like at any moment I could just float away. I giggled at the thought, then covered my mouth with my free hand and leaned in for a closer look. I found myself mesmerized by the rhythm of Dad's dick as it bounced up and down and up and down and up and down. It was hypnotic.
"That's right," Ron said, his voice soft, barely audible over the sound of skin slapping skin. "Look how big it is."
And it was big. Huge. Once, back in high school, Rundy and I measured ourselves. I was a little more than eight inches, and he was just behind me at seven and a half. But Dad? Wow! His looked longer, and definitely thicker, than both of ours! I remembered back in freshman year of college, just before a swim meet, when one of the guys in the locker room made a crack about me packing an anaconda in my jammers, and wouldn't you know it, I was so self-conscious about it, I had a boner the entire meet. If mine was an anaconda, Dad's was what, a python? How the heck did he keep it packed in his underwear?
My dick was throbbing, and I slid my hand into my briefs and took it in hand.
"Closer," Ron urged again, and I leaned in even further, Dad still gripping my hand. "Take your hand off your dick and take one of his nipples between your index finger and thumb," he instructed. I looked at him. "Come on now, do what I told you."
I obeyed and took one of Dad's nipples, holding it gingerly between my finger and thumb. My breath caught when I felt it get hard.
"That's it," Ron continued. "Now pinch it. That's good. Now roll it. Yeah, that's really good. Now pinch a little harder."
I did and glanced down when I heard Dad gasp. I squeezed his hand and felt him return it. Emboldened, I plucked at his other nipple, then alternated between the two, rolling the hard nubs and plucking them. Dad continued to gasp and grunt before settling into a low throaty moan.
"I knew it." Ron said, snapping me out of my trance-like state.
"What?" I asked, looking up briefly to meet his eyes before settling my stare back down on Dad's erection.
"You can't keep your eyes off it."
I blushed and I felt my dick twitch. My head was starting to spin now, and I was feeling so horny. It was wrong to be feeling this way when looking at my dad, wasn't it?
I felt a slight pressure on my shoulders, and I looked up to see Dillon standing over me. How long had he been there?
"Don't mind me," he said as he rested a hand on my shoulder and lightly squeezed. It slid to the back of my neck and I shivered when he began to play with my hair. "That's it," he coaxed in a gentle voice as he exerted just the tiniest bit of pressure and guided my head down toward Dad's dick. "Get down there. Closer. That's right."
Dad's cock was enormous, like a torpedo, and I felt inexorably drawn to it, like a moth to a flame, hypnotized by that slow, steady motion as it continued to bob up and down like a buoy. Up and down and up and down and up and down.
Dillon's hand pushed a bit harder until I was just inches away from it. Without realizing what I was doing, I slid my hand down from Dad's nipples and wrapped it around his dick.
It was thick and firm, but still pliable, lined with veins that looked as if they were etched in marble. It was warm, almost hot, and I could feel the blood pumping through it, coursing up and down its length.
The scent of cum mixed with musky sweat assaulted my nostrils. My skin felt hot and tingly, my head was spinning, and all I could think about was how much I wanted cock. Any cock. This cock.
I licked my lips and opened my mouth.
"Yessss," Dillon hissed softly as his fingers threaded into my hair and he gently caressed my scalp. It felt nice. "Open wide."
I did as he instructed and basked in his praise when he called me a good boy. "Nice and wide. Yeah, that's it." He pushed my head down until my lips touched the tip of Dad's cock like a gentle kiss. And then the entire shaft was sliding into my mouth.
His hands guided my head up and down on Dad's throbbing dick until I was moving it on my own. Up and down and up and down and up and down, my throat opening as I took him deeper. Up and down and up and down and up and down. My lips sealed around it. Up and down and up and down and up and down. The rhythm felt natural.
"Ohhhh, ohhhhh, ohhhhhhhh," Dad suddenly wailed, and I felt Ron change from fucking him in long sweeping strokes to short, hard jabs. Dad's voice began to rise in volume - "Oh, oh, OH, OH, OH, OH, OHHHHH!!!" - reaching a crescendo just as he began to cum yet again.
The first volley hit the back of my throat, and then some kind of switch flipped on in my head and the reality of what I was doing suddenly became clear. I jerked back and pulled off.
Coughing and sputtering, I dropped Dad's hand as a wad of semen and spit erupted from my mouth, spraying everywhere. Dad continued to ejaculate, ropes of hot semen splashing against my cheeks as I bent over, gagging.
I stumbled back and fell on my butt, spitting and spluttering and wiping at my face. Ron laughed loudly as he pulled out, stripped off his condom, and tossed it on Dad's chest. Then he gave his dick a couple of tugs and, with a loud groan, shot his massive load all over Dad's stomach.
Dad moaned, running one hand through the thick puddle of cum pooling on his belly while he grabbed his dick with the other. He let out a soft groan as he tugged his cock, milking out the remainder of his cum.
"Sounds like Greg here wants more," Ron said, tucking his dick into his boxer briefs. He picked up Dad's briefs from the floor, wadded them into a ball, and dropped them on his chest.
"Is that so?" Dillon said, his eyes twinkling.
"No." My head was really spinning now and I struggled to climb to my feet.
"I don't know, fag boy," Chad said, and I turned to see him standing in the door in nothing but black briefs. He was holding his phone. "From what I saw, he looked pretty into it." He approached, tapping the screen, and held it up for me to see. I paled at the video of Ron fucking my dad.
"Oh, yes! Oh, yes! Fuuuuuuccck..." Dad's voice cried out from the video. "More... more..."
How long had he been standing there filming? I reached for the phone and Chad winked. "Don't worry, I already sent it to you."
He laughed and I looked past him, out the door. "If you're looking for Rundy, he passed out a while ago. But I'm sure he'll be up and ready for more."
Dillon stepped out of his pants and pushed his trunks down. He rolled Dad onto belly, pushing and pulling until he was on his knees and forearms, face in his pillow. Then he slicked his erection with gel from a tube Ron handed him.
"Stop!" I protested, holding out a hand. Dillon just laughed as he lined up his cock with Dad's hole and drove in deep.
"Unngghh!!" Dad cried, arching up off the mattress, which caused him to push down and into Dillon's thrusts.
I blinked, mouth open, unable to tear my eyes away as my dad was fucked for the second time tonight.
"Shit, I don't know who's tighter, him or Rundy," he said. He turned to Chad. "You'll have to take a turn next and let me know."
"No, stop!" I cried, but my objection lacked conviction. I should've been embarrassed at how hard I was watching Dillon with my dad, but for some reason it turned me on even more.
"Stop?" he said, looking down at me as he flipped Dad onto his side. "Why? I don't think he wants me to."
I turned to Dad - he now had one leg over Dillon's shoulder while the other was bent and splayed wide - and studied his face, looking for any sign or indication he didn't want this, but couldn't see anything. His eyelids fluttered revealing the whites of his eyes, and there was a low, steady rumbling coming from deep within his chest, hitching whenever Dillon hit his prostate. The most damning tell though was his diamond-hard dick jutting up ramrod straight.
"Oh fuuuuuuccckkk," he groaned as Dillon fucked him from behind. His voice was rough and guttural and he dragged the swear out for several seconds, all the while his head thrashing from side to side as he stroked himself in time with Dillon's thrusts.
I groaned and rubbed my crotch.
"And," Dillon continued, pointedly looking at the way I was palming myself, "judging by the way you're getting off on it, you don't want me to stop either."
I blushed because he wasn't wrong.
I reached for the Gatorade but the room tilted and I slumped onto my side. As I rolled onto my back, watching the room spin slowly overhead, strong hands gripped my hips and I raised my head just enough to see Ron standing over me, a gleeful smile on his face as his fingers curled under my waistband. He eased my briefs down my legs and off, pushed my knees up into a bent position, and then tugged my body so my feet were just at the edge of the mattress.
He picked up the small bottle of lube and squirt some onto the index finger of his left hand. I gulped. There was a cool sensation as he dragged the slick digit up and down the crack of my butt and I flinched. He rested the blunt tip of his finger against my hole, drizzled more lube onto it, then gently pushed it into me.
I shivered as a tingling sensation spread through me, and I gasped when a second finger joined the first and he began working my hole open like a pro. A few seconds passed and I began to feel dizzy and floaty.
When I opened my eyes (when did I close them?), I realized I was on lying on my back and my legs were wrapped around Ron's waist as he thrust into me with long, deep strokes. "Still so tight," he grunted as he drove in and out of my channel. "Like a glove!"
It dawned on that I was in my parents' bed lying side-by-side with my dad, both of us getting fucked. I should've been mortified - there should've been alarm bells and whistles blaring loudly - but every time Ron slid his fingers inside me, my body got all hot and tingly, and my brain started doing somersaults, tamping down the swirls of panic. It was such an incredible feeling. How could this be wrong when it felt so good?
I heard a moan of pleasure to my right and turned my head to see my dad looking at me. He was blinking slowly as a line of drool ran from the corner of his mouth. The bed suddenly dipped and I saw Chad swing his leg over Dad and straddled his chest the way had Rundy's earlier. He was still wearing his briefs, but the front was pulled down and tucked under his balls and his dick, thick and hard and wet, loomed only inches from Dad's mouth.
I gasped and tried to sit up, but Ron's fingers entered me again, and once more everything just melted away. "Easy there, Joaquin," he said in a gentle, yet firm voice. "Just relax."
Chad patted Dad's cheek. "Greg, hey, open up," he said, and holy crap, Dad opened his mouth! "Oh yeah," he grunted as he fed his cock, inch by inch, into Dad's mouth.
"Fuck, that's it," he moaned, putting his hand on the back of Dad's head to hold him in place. "Right down your throat. Just like Joaquin."
I wanted to stop him, but just as I opened my mouth, Ron's fat cock raked over my bitch button and I was rendered incapable of any kind of speech. "Unnnnhh!!!" I wailed as I clutched the sheets.
I hadn't realized until now just how empty my ass felt, how hungry. Every time he hit my prostate my dick lurched and a current, like a live wire, coursed through me.
The harder he fucked me, the more my body felt like a powder keg, like dry kindling, waiting for a spark to ignite it, and I briefly wondered if maybe it was more than just alcohol and poppers making me feel so horny and slutty. At the moment, though, I didn't really give a fuck because I felt fantastic. I grabbed the backs of my knees again and spread my legs apart.
My eyes rolled up as Ron continued to ring my bell, and I felt myself drift, like I was disconnected from my body. I was vaguely aware of being in various positions - my back, front, side - as he continued to fuck me. Time seemed to stand still and as I looked around through hazy eyes, I saw Dad up on all fours getting fucked in his mouth and ass just like Rundy had earlier. I sighed and closed my eyes.
I don't know how long I floated in that dreamy, in-between space, but another shifting of the mattress jostled me back to consciousness and I opened my eyes to see a naked Chad crawling on top of me. With one hand on his hip and the other holding his hard cock, he smiled wickedly and pointed it at my mouth. Without prompting, I swallowed it to the hilt.
"Oh yeah," he groaned in pleasure as I swirled my tongue around the cap of his penis, dipping into the cleft to taste him. "So good!"
He slid in deep until his pubic hair mashed against my nose and I inhaled the heady combination of sweat, cum, and sex. I pulled back and licked up and down his length, dipping into the piss slit again, then licking around the head once more.
"So fucking good!"
I smiled at the words of praise, licked my lips, and took his cock to the back of my throat.
He smiled back but it was a wicked, almost cruel smile. He leaned forward as he fucked my mouth, pinning me to the mattress in such a way I found myself completely unable to move. Instead of resisting or pushing back though, I gave in. The feeling of his cock in my mouth, the way it completely violated me was a strange turn on.
He must've sensed my surrender or acquiescence, because he started pumping his hips faster, getting more aggressive. I felt his balls hitting my chin as he kept going deeper and deeper into my mouth.
Suddenly he grabbed my head with both hands and started to face fuck me, causing me to gag and spit everywhere. I couldn't stop it and, I didn't want to. For some reason I couldn't pinpoint - didn't want to even think about - it was a turn on being used like this.
When he finally came, it was like an oil derrick hitting a gusher. He arched his back and howled as he drenched my tonsils with his jism. I slurped and swallowed as best as I could and eventually it was too much for Chad because he pulled out of my mouth and toppled onto his side next to me, one hand wrapped around his half-hard dick.
"Oh fuck," he gasped, his chest heaving. "That was... oh fuck!"
Ron was still inside me, thrusting hard, and a few moments later began to cum. As I felt the condom fill and swell inside me, I passed out.
I passed out.
#
The next time I opened my eyes, Ron, Dillon, and Chad were leaving. I struggled up off the bed and staggered down the hall after them, reaching the opening to the family room just as front door clicked shut.
I stood there for several minutes until I heard them drive off and then stumbled, still half out of it, into the family room and started to clean.
Thankfully all the fucking had taken place in the bedrooms because the idea of cleaning cum stains from the couch cushions - even though they were Scotchgarded - held no appeal. The furniture was only a couple of months old, and my mom would lose her mind if came home to find it stained.
They'd also taken all the empty bottles with them so all I had to do was wipe down the counters and load and run the dishwasher.
Satisfied that all evidence of any debauchery was disposed of, I went back to deal with Dad and Rundy.
My room was closer so I decided to start there. The first thing I noticed was the smell: it reeked like cum. Cum and poppers. The second thing I realized was that my bed was empty... What the heck?
I went back to Dad's room - it stunk nearly as bad as mine - and found him lying next to Dad, both of them out cold. I had no idea how or when he got here. He was on his stomach, arms folded around a pillow, his breathing deep and even. His hair was a mess and there was dried cum on his cheeks, lips, and chin.
His underwear was on - how that happened is a mystery - and his butt seemed to be calling to me. I rested my hand on that perfect curve, gently caressing it through the taut white cotton. Maybe it was my imagination, but I thought I heard his breath hitch and then gentle when I touched him.
I looked over at Dad and damn, but he was a fucked-out mess. He was on his back, naked and still half-hard, both arms over his head. There was cum everywhere: his face, lips, nipples... everywhere. His right knee was bent like a jack knife and his dick, long and thick, lay against his hip.
His briefs were lying between him and Rundy. They were a soiled, sodden mess, and no wonder, considering how many times he'd ejaculated in them and how many times they'd been used to wipe him clean.
He groaned just then, a deep, low rumbling that I felt in my balls. He moaned again and I realized it was the same sound he made when he was being fucked earlier. And just like that, a whole reel of images of him being fucked by Ron and Dillon unspooled in my head and began to play on a continuous loop.
I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head, but I could still see Dad getting fucked like a whore, could still hear him moaning in pleasure as he seemingly loved every second of it. My dad, the most godly...
I froze. Godly men... What was it Ron had said? Something about godly men and - yes, that was it: "What is it with you godly men? Get a few drinks in you and suddenly you're sucking cock, cursing like sailors, and taking the Lord's name in vain."
But it was the way he said the word `godly.' Something in is tone, his inflection...
And then it hit me. He'd planned this! The drinks at the club, Dillon showing up... all of it! This was payback for me defying him, for telling him I didn't want to go to Europe. For telling him I wanted to get my spiritual life right back on track, and that I wanted to do it with my Dad and Rundy. And then he went out of his way to corrupt the two most godly men I knew. He got them drunk or whatever it was he did to them, and then fucked them in front of me, turning them into nothing more than mindless cock suckers begging to be fucked.
I stood rooted in place, staring down at them for a long time, trying to process everything, until a car backfiring startled me back to the present and I turned my attention back to the situation at hand.
I returned to my room, stopping in the bathroom to grab air freshener, and Febreze'd the heck out of it. Then I opened the windows, stripped and remade the bed, and tossed everything into the washer.
Back in Dad's room, I hauled Rundy to his feet and, with his head on my shoulder and his chest pressed against mine, backed my way out and down the hall. Too late, I realized I should've put him over my shoulder in a fireman's lift because the awkward way I chose to carry him, more of a cross between carrying and dragging, had me constantly readjusting my hold. One second I had both arms wrapped around his back, the next I was grabbing and cupping his butt to keep him from slipping out of my grasp.
By the time I got him to my room and eased him down onto his side of the bed, I was winded, sweaty, and completely erect. I took a deep breath, wiped the sweat from my forehead, and looked down at him: his tousled hair was sticking up in tufts, his lips were puffy and spotted with drying cum, and his long eyelashes cast crescent shadows on his cheeks. He was a mess and I never wanted anything more in my life.
His underwear was next. There was no way I could let him sleep in them. I mean, I could but no. They were literally soaked in cum. And no way those stains were coming out. I tugged them off and held them to my nose. They reeked. "Gross," I moaned. "These are going straight in the trash."
I wet a washcloth and gently cleaned his crotch and pubes the best I could. Then I slid clean Calvins on him. It was a bit of a struggle since he was passed out, and I may have copped an innocent feel or two in the process. Once everything was in place, I gave him a thorough onceover to be sure I hadn't missed a spot.
Sure enough, I spied a couple of patches of dried cum on his pecs and one under his chin. As I wiped them clean, the hem of the washcloth brushed against one of his nipples and he began to moan.
"Are you getting off on this?" I muttered softly as I ran the cloth over his other nipple, which elicited another, longer moan. I also noticed him getting hard.
Holy shit.
Don't do it, Joaquin. Don't do it...
But my lust got the better of me and, licking my lips, I swiped a thumb over his left nipple. A soft, breathy groan slipped from his lips. I froze. He didn't wake up though, and emboldened, I gently cupped his pecs with my palms and rolled his nipples between my index fingers and thumbs, teasing them to hard, nubby points.
His moans got louder and higher, and I watched with wide eyes as his dick lengthened like a telescope until it was straining at his briefs. It made a huge ridge, and it wasn't long before beads of pre-cum soaked the white cotton.
I know I should've stopped, but I was so turned on and so hard. I had my dick in one hand, stroking while I continued to pinch, pluck, and roll his nipples, watching his dick bob and throb and lurch and pulse as it struggled to escape from its confines.
He arched his back and - "Uhn, uhn, uhn, uhn, UHNNNNNNNN!!!!" he cried out as he began to cum. Holy shit, I just made my best friend cream himself!
I gave my dick a few more tugs and then I was shooting my load all over his chest. My own chest still heaving, I cleaned him up again. I decided to leave his underwear the way it was - I couldn't wait to see the look on his face when he woke up - and pulled the covers up over him.
There were no such shenanigans when I cleaned up Dad.
His underwear was absolutely disgusting. They were damp and sticky, and when I held them up, there was a yellow stain in the shape of South American covering the front. No way was I putting these back on him. Even if Dillon and Ron were right when they said he wasn't going to remember anything - and I hoped to God they were right - he'd have to be blind to not know something was up if he woke with his underwear in this condition.
I moaned when I remembered he was wearing my underwear. "Great," I muttered. "Nice time not to do laundry, dorkmo."
I exhaled a long breath as I tried to think of what to do, catching site of myself in the dresser mirror. I looked terrible and was in desperate need of a shower.
Then it hit me: while Dad would certainly know something hinky had gone down if he woke up in these briefs, he might not know the difference if I dressed him in something from his hamper.
Of course, it was just my luck that all the underwear in his dirty clothes basket were black or grey, which left my hamper, so I trudged back to my room.
My room smelled a little better since I opened the windows, but my closet still reeked like a locker room. At least I couldn't smell cum anymore.
I sifted through the pile of my dirty underwear - when was the last time I did laundry? - finally settling on the cleanest looking (and smelling) pair and prayed he wouldn't know the difference.
Not wanting to risk running a repeat of what happened with Rundy, I decided it would be better to clean him up before I re-dressed him. So, very gently and very carefully, I swabbed every speck of cum and drool from his body.
Getting his underwear on was a challenge though. He weighs maybe fifteen pounds more than Rundy, but being out cold, it felt like more like fifty. It was a struggle, and by the time I finally got them pulled up and managed to tuck his junk in, he was fully erect. He began to moan and ran a hand over his belly and down to cup himself.
"Oh man, Dad," I chuckled, thinking back to that December morning and how he'd teased me when he caught me after I'd had a wet dream, "I could get you back so bad!"
I stared down at his bulging crotch and the thought of him waking up to a wet dream had me laughing out loud. But the better angels in my head shouted down those thoughts and I pulled the sheets up over him, switched off the lights, and went back to my room.
#
A beam of sunlight worked its way through the blinds of my bedroom window and hit me square in the face. It was like the ray of light that passed through the headpiece of Ra to reveal the resting place of the Ark of the Covenant in `Raiders of the Lost Ark,' and when I threw my arm up to shield my eyes, I wished I was dead. How much did I drink last night?
"So, this is what a hangover is," I mumbled as I struggled into a sitting position, gingerly taking stock. My head hurt. My eyes hurt. Heck, even my hair hurt. My butt though? Well, that felt great!
Memories of Rundy and me kissing came flooding back and I put my hand to my mouth. As my fingertips trailed across my lips, my mouth curved into a smile as I remembered the warm press of his lips, the shape of his mouth, the way he smelled and tasted. It really happened!
I gasped loudly as the realization that I was in love with my best friend hit me full force. But that was impossible. I was getting married in--
"Will you please stop shouting?" Rundy whined from where he was cocooned in blankets next to me. He sounded pitiful. "My head is killing me."
The mattress shifted and he poked his head out from under his burrow. "Alcohol is the devil," he moaned, as he squinted up at me. "I'm never touching the stuff again."
"You and me both," I said, even though I knew that probably wasn't true.
"I feel like crap. What happened?" I froze. "What do you mean?"
"Last night, dummy," he said as he propped himself up on one elbow. "What did we do?"
I almost squeaked as visions of Rundy sucking dick danced before my eyes. Heck, what didn't we do?
"He sat up, cross-legged like me, still wrapped in the top sheet and blanket. "The last thing I remember is dropping your dad off and" - he started laughing - "oh my gosh, J, your dad was so wasted." "Yeah, he was pretty funny," I said as the image of Rundy sucking cock morphed into my dad on his knees in front of Ron.
"Hey, did we go ride the mechanical bull at the Saddle Up?" he asked, snapping me out of my thoughts.
"What? No. I mean, I don't know... Why?"
"Cuz I'm sore everywhere. My butt hasn't been sore like this since we went there for Grad Night. Remember that?"
"Oh my gosh," I laughed as fond memories came rushing back. "That was a wild--"
"Even my mouth is sore." As he spoke, the sheet slid down and I saw a big spot on the front of his underwear. He saw me looking and followed my stare. "Oh wow," he said, his voice a mixture of horror, disbelief, and humor. "I can't believe I had a wet dream. Heck, I can't even remember the last time I had one. Must've been a huge one, considering how wet my undies are."
"Oh my gosh," I moaned and I slid away from him. "TMI!"
He laughed. "Seriously though, I don't think I've had once since junior high. What about you?"
"What about me what?"
"A wet dream. When's the last time you had one?"
I stared at him and he laughed again. "What? Wait... did you have one last night night?" His eyes went wide and he reached over and tried to lift up the blanket covering my lap.
"Stop that," I huffed, slapping his hand away.
He continued laughing as he playfully tugged at the blanket. He was about to say something when there was a knock at the door and Dad slipped in. He was wearing nothing but a towel loosely knotted around his waist.
"I need to borrow some underwear," he rasped, his voice low and gravelly, still sleep-roughened. "I'm all out."
He crossed the room to my dresser and I noted his disheveled hair, stubbled jaw, and the purple-black circles under his eyes. There was a slight reddening around the nipples and his lips looked a little puffy from all the dicks he'd sucked. He looked rough.
He grabbed a pair of clean briefs from my drawer and turned to us. "What time did you boys get home last night? I didn't hear you come in."
"It was late," I lied, at the same time Rundy said, "I don't remember a lot after leaving the restaurant."
"Neither do I," Dad confessed, running a hand through his hair. He leaned against the chest of drawers and folded his arms. "The last thing I remember is getting into Chad's truck. In fact, I think I pulled a muscle or something climbing up into that thing because my glutes are sore." I felt the blood drain from my face.
"You were pretty drunk, Mr. K," Rundy said, clueless as usual. "That much I remember."
"That explains the killer headache," Dad groaned, rubbing the base of his skull. He had a sheepish look on his face and it made him look years younger. "Um, just how drunk was I?"
My mind flashed back to last night and I averted my eyes. Dad groaned again. "That bad, huh?"
"We had to carry you inside," Rundy said. Dad opened his mouth to speak but Rundy continued, "And undress you."
"Oh my gosh," he said, shaking his head. "Undress... I-I, um, that's all a blank."
"You don't remember anything?" I asked. "Nothing?"
He shook his head and sighed, "No, nothing." He pointed at Rundy and me, "And nobody needs to tell your mother about this, right?"
"Oh heck no!" I said, and I could see Rundy nod in agreement.
"I'm sure Ron won't say anything," Dad said absently, "but I'll give him a call this afternoon just to be sure."
The memory of him on his knees sucking Ron's cock popped into my head and I felt my dick lengthen in my briefs.
"In all seriousness boys" - uh oh, here it comes! - "we were lucky we were with friends last night. When you've been a first responder as long as I have..." He trailed off and seemed to lose his train of thought. After a moment he shook his head and continued, "Well, let's just say, you see and hear a lot."
We were quiet for several seconds as we let that sink in. I was relieved that neither he nor Rundy remembered anything.
"Okay, then," he said as he pushed off the chest of drawers, "time to get up and at `em. Mom gets back tomorrow and there's a lot to do. First thing we need to do is air out this room. It smells pretty ripe."
"Hey!" I protested.
"Second" - he held up the clean briefs - "we need to do laundry. I can't keep borrowing your underwear."
"I don't see why not. Rundy does."
Rundy shrugged. "It's true."
Dad grinned. "Well, as cute as it is that you two are all matchy-match" - wait, what did he say? - "I think I'm a little old to be wearing tighty whities. Especially my son's."
As he stepped away from the dresser, the hem of his towel caught on one of the drawer pulls and fell to the floor. He was wearing the underwear I'd put on him last night, but the front was yellowed with a huge cum stain that still looked wet. Holy crap, did he have a wet dream? Was that even possible for adults?
Rundy and I gasped. "Whoa, Mr. K, did you-?"
I clamped my hand over Rundy's mouth to shut him up as Dad, face scarlet, bent to retrieve the fallen towel. He quickly refastened it, but not before I saw - holy crap, did he have a boner?!
Our eyes met and his face seemed to get even redder. He looked away and I risked another glance at his crotch. Yep, he had a boner! I mean, there was morning wood and then there was, well, morning redwood? It was huge!
"I-I'll leave you two to get dressed," he stammered as he hurried to the door, hand clutching the knotted towel so tight his knuckles were white. "How about I take us to breakfast? Be ready in half an hour."
Rundy and I nodded, speechless, as the door clicked shut.
THE END
(for now)