Johan braced himself against the washing machine. The thick cock was hurting him a little, but it was a good sort of pain.
"Don't talk back. Shut up and take my cock, young man!"
How on earth did Johan end up getting fucked by a much older man, without a condom, in the basement of his own apartment building, his husband right upstairs?
It all started two years ago, when Johan and his husband were looking for a new place. The landlord and his wife had liked the couple immediately. They wanted quiet, responsible tenants in their building.
But old buildings have maintenance problems, so the landlord had to stop by often. Johan worked from home most days, so they would strike up a conversation as the landlord touched up a blemish in the paint, fixed a leaky pipe, or caulked a drafty window.
The landlord seemed to take pride in the place. Herr Favre -- he didn't like Johan to address him by his first name -- mentioned that the property had belonged to his father. He told Johan stories about growing up there.
Over time, the two men became friends. One day, Herr Favre complimented Johan. "You and your husband are always together and always affectionate. I can tell that you love each other very much."
"How long have you been with Frau Favre?" Johan asked.
Herr Favre had to think a moment. "Thirty-two years."
"Congratulations! That's a long time."
Herr Favre paused again. "Well, we care for each other, but after so many years, the passion isn't there anymore."
"I'm sorry."
Herr Favre seemed to be lost in his memories. "I first made love to Ingrid on the hill over there," he said, pointing out the window. "It was just open land back then, no road, no houses."
For some reason, Johan's cock twitched. He imagined his landlord -- still attractive at 55 -- as a strapping young lad.
At the same time, Johan felt a twinge of sadness. He wondered whether every marriage was doomed. He'd been with his husband eight years, one quarter the length of Herr Favre's marriage. Johan and his husband still had some passion. They could be playful, they cuddled a lot, they took each other on dates, but...
The next time Herr Favre came over, they talked more about their respective relationships. "Forgive me if this question is inappropriate, but I don't have many gay friends. In your marriage, are you the woman or the man?"
Johan was taken aback. "We don't think of it that way, Herr Favre. We share our responsibilities. I am better at some things, and my husband is better at other things."
"But sexually?" Herr Favre asked. "Wait, I don't mean to pry."
Johan was surprised by his landlord's directness. It was very un-Swiss. Either Herr Favre didn't think a gay man, and one younger than him, to boot, was worthy of much respect, or he was genuinely curious and did consider Johan a friend.
"Here again," Johan answered, this time more firmly, "we don't think in terms of traditional male/female roles. I am passiv, but that doesn't mean I play a feminine role." The German word for bottom was clear and simple.
Herr Favre changed the topic before going home to his wife.
The laundry room was in the basement, next to Herr Favre's tool room. Johan was wearing nothing more than shorts and an old T-shirt when Herr Favre walked in on him doing laundry, later in the week. He thought he noticed the older man's gaze. As it happened, Johan's shorts showed off his ass.
Herr Favre came up beside him, then reached across to tighten and untighten the water valves for the washing machine, making sure that the water supply was fully open. There was something almost sensual about the thick, threaded cast iron piping and the old valves with their big metal handles. In a modern building, there would be thin plastic tubing, epoxy joints, and spindly little valves.
Herr Favre patted Johan on the back, in a natural, friendly gesture. Then, he playfully slapped Johan's ass.
"Owww!" Johan recoiled, laughing.
"Come on, young man, you can take it!"
Johan was expecting another slap, but instead of a blow, he felt Herr Favre's hand grabbing his ass. Seconds later, the older man was behind him, pinning him against the front of the washing machine. Johan thought he could feel Herr Favre's erection against his ass.
Herr Favre almost growled in his ear. Johan could feel the heat of the man's breath. "Ingrid lost interest in sex after our third child was born. I can fuck my secretary, but she makes me use a condom. I don't have to worry about getting you pregnant now, do I?"
All sorts of thoughts were pulsing through Johan's mind. He had grown to like Herr Favre as a friend, but the man was still his landlord. On the other hand, Johan could already tell he had a thick cock. Thick ones always gave him the most pleasure. And it had been a week since his encounter with Erik, the young, redheaded top who had bred him on the way home from work in the Klappe, the public washroom near the Lucerne train station.
"We shouldn't do this, Herr Favre. I have to finish my laundry, and I'm sure you have some repairs to do." Herr Favre had already unzipped his fly. Johan glanced back. Sure enough, his dick was as thick as a beer can.
"What about Frau Favre?" Johan pleaded.
"What Ingrid doesn't know won't hurt her."
Herr Favre reached for the bottle of fabric softener on the shelf and used a few drops of the smooth liquid, combined with some spit, to wet his cock and finger Johan's ass.
Herr Favre didn't take it slowly. He penetrated Johan to the hilt in one stroke. The fabric softener helped, but it was still a tight fit. Herr Favre started fucking Johan in earnest.
"How does it feel for you?"
Johan didn't know what was getting into him, but instinctively he cried out, "It feels good, Daddy!"
He felt Herr Favre's dick twitch on that last word.
"You like it rough, don't you?" Herr Favre gave him a hard thrust.
Johan didn't want to contradict his daddy, but in truth, he preferred a slow, romantic fuck.
"Don't you?" Another deep thrust.
"Say it, boy!"
"Yes, Daddy, I like it. Make me your little slut!"
Johan felt a little guilty toward his husband, who hadn't fucked him in a long time. Come to think of it, even when they were a new, constantly horny couple, his husband had never fucked him in risky places like a public washroom or a laundry room.
Johan was surprised that an older man still had so much stamina. Maybe it was the unusual lube, but Johan was the first one to start running out of steam.
"Slow down, Daddy!"
"Don't talk back. Shut up and take my cock, young man!"
"Yes, Daddy!"
Johan figured that if he clenched down, he could make Herr Favre cum quickly, and give his ass a rest. His plan worked.
"Fuck, your hole is so tight!"
"It's all for you, Daddy. I'm your slut now. Breed me!"
"You're going to make me cum."
Johan backed his ass up onto Herr Favre's cock. The thickness was amazing. Herr Favre grunted and swore. He held Johan's ass motionless as he released his load. Both men were by now drenched in sweat.
Johan felt a sudden emptiness as Herr Favre withdrew. A glob of semen leaked out, splashing on the floor of the laundry room. "You gave me a big load, Daddy."
"Yes. It has been a while for me."
Unexpectedly, Herr Favre pulled Johan in for a kiss. Just then, the washing machine's buzzer sounded. Another load, done!
After saying goodbye to his landlord and collecting the laundry, Johan slinked upstairs, hoping his husband would be too busy to notice the obvious signs that he'd just been fucked.