Daddies, page 17
Put your nose in my hair. Tickles, don’t it? Yeah, it’s thick and long. I’m a man, son. Daddy’s a real man. Breathe it. Yeah. Old piss. Yeah, some cum left over from when I beat off this morning. Yeah, that’s Daddy’s spunk you’re breathing. The stuff you’re made of.
Enough bullshit. Suck my nuts.
Oh, fuck, that’s good Kevin. You got nice lips. Shit. Been dreamin’ about my boy’s lips for years. Soft and pink and the way they shine after a glass of Kool-Aid... Feels like velvet. Slurp on my nuts. Yeah, the hair tickles your mouth, don’t it? You like that hair. Hair’s what a man’s got and what a boy wants. Daddy’s got a lot of hair.
Okay. Try to get the other one in. Ow. Yeah, they’re big. Try again. Open wide. Here, let Daddy use his fingers, let me stretch your mouth. Now take that one. Suck it in. Yeah. Hum. Yeah. Hum one of those tunes they play in that bar down the street. Oh yeah. That’s nice. Daddy’s liking that, Kevin. Ya make Daddy feel really good, Kevin. Better than when he’s watchin’ ya shoot hoops or pullin’ up your underwear—
Reach up. Tickle the back of my sac. Yeah. It makes it go all loose and dangly.
(laughter) You look like a chipmunk. So fuckin’ cute, Kevin. Alvin. With nuts in his mouth. My nuts. Taste salty, don’t they?
I wish we were at home, son. A late night, son. And your Mom’s in bed asleep and we’re up, watching an old movie. And the air conditioning’s broke. And it’s hot. (whispered:) And I’m in my boxers, sitting in the recliner, Kevin, and you’re in your blue PJs, a little too small, and you look over, and my junk’s hanging about twelve inches out of my shorts. Right down my leg. And your eyes get big, Kevin. Real big. And I watch you watch me. And you never turn back to that fuckin’ movie, Kevin, you just watch your Daddy’s stuff, hangin’ out, on display. And—
Okay. Gettin’ too hot, too soon.
Ease off. Let ‘em go. Let Daddy’s nuts out of your mouth.
(pop)
Ow. Tight fit. Your cunt that tight, Kevin? Tight as your lips?
Fuck, son, my balls are dripping. With your spit. Shit. Fuck. You liked the taste, didn’t ya? Yeah, a bitch son. A real bitch son. Daddy’s bitch son.
Stand up. Come on, stand. Heh. You like how I smell, don’t ya? Yeah, it gets to a boy. Got to me, too, when I was your age. But I ain’t gonna tell you that story. Daddy’s got his secrets, too, like his boy. Like what you do in your bedroom alone. Like why it’s so hard to keep bananas in the house. Like why I find carrots covered with hand lotion in the trash. Like why your farts are big silent whooshes and not tight little pheeps.
You’re a dirty boy, aren’t ya, Kevin?
Let me sniff your face, Kevin.
Yeah. Yeah. Yeah! You smell like a man, now, Kevin. How’s that? How’s it feel to smell like cockcheese, like piss, like sweat? Like a Daddy? Feel grown up? Feel powerful? Feel like you could beat your hands on your chest and howl loud enough to make Tarzan crap his loincloth? Yeah, well, that’s what it’s like to be a Daddy. To have a big nutsack, dripping with Kevin’s spit, swinging between my legs. Shit. I can feel my spunk sloshing in there—
Feels nice, Kevin. I like that. Your fingers feel cool on my nuts. Lift ‘em. They’re heavy, aren’t they?
Sure, okay.
Nah, leave the clothes where they are. Let’s have some fun. Look. I’ll lean against the wall—
Oh.
Oh.
Lick that slime. Lick it. It’s been building up in my pits all day. For you, Kevin. Can ya taste my salt boy? Taste Daddy. Dirty nasty Daddy. Oh shit, Kevin. You remember that time? You remember that time when I took you swimming, at Grandpa’s, in the pond? Fuck. It was hot. You wore those shorts. Loose. Not tight at all. They hung off your hips. That drawstring. Daddy saw your asscrack, Kevin. Daddy looked at your crack, and he—
Nice. Yeah. Play with Daddy’s tits. Roll ‘em. Yeah. Tug on ‘em. Yeah. You’re gettin’ into this Kevin, ain’t ya?
Look at me. Look at me. Like that. Pretty boy. You’re a real pretty boy, Kevin. You make Daddy horny. You’ve always made Daddy horny.
I’m fuckin’ boned. Fuckin’ boned. Boned for my boy. I wanna plug you, Kevin. I’ve wanted to for a long time—
Ah, shit.
Great. Do it again.
Look how it makes me leak, Kevin. You can’t do that, son. You can’t do that to a man, you can’t touch me like you’re touchin’ me, where you’re touching me, without starting something dangerous.
It’s gonna get real dangerous, son.
Get down there and blow me, faggot.
Ah yeah. Like that. Pretty lips, boy. I gotta faggot son. Use them pretty lips. Yeah, lick me. Daddy’s faggot boy. Yeah, lick that cheese. Crusty. Oily. Dirty. Daddy. Stroke my balls. No, real light. Yeah. Open up. Yeah. Got ya trained, Kevin. Remember how I trained you? How I came into your room that night, and I got on your bed, and I was just wearing boxers, and my cock was hard, and I knelt above you. And you looked up at me, and said what’s that, daddy, and I said, it’s Daddy’s dick, and I rammed it down—
Like that. Choke, bitch.
Fuck. Daddy’s balls on his boy’s chin.
Gag. Gag, ya bitch.
All of it. Every fucking inch.
Fuck, you’re good.
Yeah, ya like Daddy in your throat. Fuck, you’re boned too. You’re a bitch, son. Yeah, blow your Daddy. Show Daddy how good you suck cock. Make Daddy happy. He likes to get sucked, boy.
Get that tongue under there. Clean that cheese out. Eat it. That’s your dinner. Get me wet. Dripping. Ain’t got no lube, son, so it’s what your mouth can—
Ah, fuck. Nice. You’re gettin’ used to it. Fuck, your throat’s like velvet. Like your Mom’s cunt. Work those pretty lips, boy. Work your Daddy. Make him feel good.
Oh yeah. Oh yeah. Blow me.
(whispered:) Oh yeah, little Kevin. Take you into the backyard, climb up into your treehouse, unzip my jeans, and let my meat flop out. Touch your Daddy, hold him. Yeah, see how it gets big and long? That means Daddy likes you. Let’s do something special, Kevin. Something only Daddies and their special sons can do. Yeah, did ya know you can milk your Daddy? Yeah, Daddy makes really good milk. Now, put your mouth on it. All the way down. Oh boy. You got it. You got it all. Now move up and down. Like that. You’re a good boy. Shit, Kevin, shit. You’re doing things to Daddy—
Stop. Stop! Get off.
Shit. That was close.
Nah, nothin’ with him. I swear. And won’t. Probably. Unless—
Okay, stand up. Turn around.
Let Daddy touch your butt. Like how I rub it, Kevin? You know why I do that? ‘Cause you got a real pretty butt. See, Daddy likes butts. There’s just something about butt. Especially young butt. Slim waist, nice curves, hard muscles. I like watchin’ you swim, Kevin. I like watchin’ you manhandle a kayak into the river. I wanna see you make a three-pointer on the court. You make Daddy want to come up behind you, like this, and grab you around the waist, like this, and pull you to me, like this, and feel your body, so smooth, against mine.
There’s a nasty game we can play. But it’s only for us guys. You can’t tell anyone about this. No one, not even your Mom.
What is it? You feel that thing? Yeah, that bulge? Against your butt? Ya know what it is, Kevin? Yeah, it’s something that’s gonna make you feel good, Kevin.
Turn around. Up against the wall. Yeah, it’s dirty. It’s all about dirt, son.
Oh yeah. Fuckin’ awesome.
Yeah, let me open these up again. Fuck, boy, you’re hoppin’ around. Shit, not even your Mommy’s that horny. That little pucker’s winkin’. Winkin’ at me. Yeah.
Let me kiss it.
(soft slurping sounds)
Tastes nice, son. Orangey. A little salty. Oh yeah. Open it up. Yeah. Let me get up—
(soft slurping sounds)
You keep moanin’ like that they’re gonna let the guys in the city jail out to fuck ya silly, son.
I wanna see this tight little butt in some nice Jockeys, Kevin. Would ya do that for me sometime? Let me come in your room when you’re changing clothes, when you’re just in your underwear, tight white underwear like a wedding dress, and let me touch you, and pull them down, and kneel, and put my tongue here—
(soft slurping sounds)
You sound like you’re hot enough. ‘Nuff of this. Time. It’s time.
Oh yeah. So fuckin’ pretty. Nice, boy. Nice. Squeeze it. Yeah. I wanna bust that hole open, boy. Wanna hear you screamin’. Wanna hear Mommy poundin’ on the door, wantin’ to know why little Kevin’s screamin’, wanna see those brown curls in the moonlight again, remember it, yeah, sweaty, from behind, while I’m on top of ya, son, and I’m rammin’, and Mommy’s yellin’, and you’re yellin’, and it’s just another night on Cinnabar Street, maa-maa we’re all crazee now—
Heh. You twitched. Yeah, got a lot of hair on my chest. It drives the boys wild when they feel it on their backs. Like they’re gettin’ mounted by a silverback gorilla. Or a sasquatch. Yeah, I think it’s the sasquatch thing. Yeah. Too much “X-Files.” Too much “Outer Limits.”
Nice hips. Made to be held.
Jumped again. Ya know what’s comin’, don’t ya? You know it’s gonna hurt bad, Kevin. Real bad.
(whispered:) You love Daddy, right, so you’ll let him do it, right?
Let me rub ya. Let me hump ya. Yeah, a big hot cock’s in your buttcrack. Yeah, Kevin, this is the game. Yeah, it’s fuckin’ serious. Yeah, it’s scary. But it’s fun. Let me show ya. Slides real easy, don’t it? Yeah.
Fuck this bullshit. Let me get it in ya.
Gonna breed ya, son.
Got it against your hole.
Gonna breed ya, son. Like hillbillies do. Yeah. Something special. Squeal. Squeal. Like a pig!
(screaming)
Ah, that’s nice.
(screaming)
More.
(screaming)
That’s what Daddy wants to hear.
You’re a man now.
Feel that weight? Feel those big hairy things on the backside of your ball sac? That’s your Daddy’s nuts. Fuck. Heavy. Hard. (panting) Shit. Goddamn. Kevin, you’re tight. Fucking tightest thing I’ve ever bred.
Didja know I cheat on your Mom? Yeah, I cheat on her with my kids.
Fuck.
Let me stroke ya.
(screaming)
It hurts, yeah, but it feels so fuckin’ good.
Let me move.
Don’t try to get away, slut, don’t try and get away, you’re my son, you’re my bitch, I’m gonna ride ya till ya break—
Shit. Good.
Quit cryin’.
Yeah.
Like that.
Again.
Take it.
Hurt?
Good.
Oh yeah. Rammin’ my boy. Rammin’ him hard. Fuckin’ dirty Daddy at work. Yeah. Shit. Shit. Yeah. You like it when Daddy gets in the bathtub with ya, boy, ya like it when he turns ya round, ya like how the soap feels when he rubs it there—
Take it.
Turn that ass up, bitch. Yeah, spread those cheeks. Oh, yeah, you want it now, yeah, you can’t get enough of it.
Fuck, I wanna get you to straddle your bike and then I wanna fuck you from behind. Oh, son, there’s so much dirty shit we can do together. In the garage. Yeah. And I can fuck you when I get home from work, yeah, you on the couch, yeah, watching dirty porn, yeah, in your Jockeys, yeah, and Daddy comes home all hot and sweaty, yeah, and he touches you, yeah, bathing suit area, yeah, and you give it up, yeah, and you show Daddy you love him, yeah, Daddy wants to sniff your jerseys and your catcher’s mitt and your jockstrap and the Kleenex you wipe your cum with—
Squeeze that cunt, son. Squeeze. You’re cummin’. Shoot it. Yell! Scream! Boy, ain’t no one for miles, fucking let it go. Yeah, like that. Roar like a fucking lion. Yeah, Daddy’s rammin’ your guts, yeah boy, your spunk’s flying everywhere. I can smell it. Daddy smells your cum. You smell like my jockstrap, son, yeah one of Daddy’s funky jockstraps.
Smells like your bed, boy.
Okay, boy, this is for me.
Don’t try and get away. Quit it. Stop. You ain’t leavin’ Daddy with blue balls. No more teasin’. You hot little bitch. Prancing round the house in your Jockeys. Mowing the lawn. Laying on your belly, watchin’ “Oz” on the TV, squirmin’. Sunnin’ yourself at the beach, in those trunks. Comin’ out of the water, with them clingin’ to your body. In the bathroom, shavin’ that fuzz off your face you think is a beard but ain’t nothin’ like what I’ve got.
You’re smooth, son, but not soft, and I like that. Like velvet over marble. Yeah. A pretty boy.
I’m in your butt. Daddy’s in his boy’s butt. Daddy’s strokin’ his boy’s butt with his big long cock. Yeah, it’s a big cock. You about died the first time you tried to take it. Remember? Remember the first time, Kevin, when I bent you over the sink in the bathroom and rammed you hard—
You gotta let Daddy finish. Quit squirmin’.
Pulled that towel down, and there were those two cheeks and that little starfish, and my tongue touched ya, and ya gasped—
Bitch, I’ll get rough!
Who the fuck do you think you are, son? I’m your goddamned Daddy. If I wanna fuck that hot tight cunt I’ll fuck it. You’ll take it. Who gives a fuck if you got your nut? You gotta wait. You gotta let Daddy do this to you. It’ll hurt Daddy if you don’t let him cum in ya, don’t ya know that?
Yeah, pay attention. When Daddy’s horny, don’t piss him off.
Let me drill that ass. Yeah. Like that. Longcockin’ my boy. Oh yeah. I hear you squish, down there. Heh, and ya fart too. It ain’t easy taking big cocks, boy, but you can do it. Quit whining, you’ll love it when I’m done. Everyone likes a big-cocked Daddy on a sweaty night. You like your Daddy, don’t you? You like sweaty nights, ‘cause you know it makes Daddy crazy, and he takes it out on you, and—
Get into it. Yeah. Move those hips. Here. Let Daddy wipe your tears. Yeah, it hurts, but it hurts good, don’t it? You just move your hips on your Daddy’s prong. He needs it really bad.
Ah shit. Can’t take it. Do ya love Daddy, son, do ya love your Daddy, Kevin?
Son. Sweet-assed son.
I feel your heartbeat, son, your heartbeat on my cock. Don’t move.
Don’t move.
Don’t fucking move you sweet-assed whore.
Holy fuckin’ shit! Holy fuckin’ shit! Daddy’s shootin’ that stuff, he’s breedin’ you, he’s making a man out of you, yeah, take Daddy’s milk, yeah you fucking slut, yeah, you’re gonna leak this in your jeans, yeah, Daddy’s slime, yeah, the slime he made you with, fuckin’ inbreedin’ like a hillbilly in springtime! Goddam! Inbreedin’! I’m inbreedin’ my own boy!
(roaring)
(crickets)
Shit. Shit.
That was good, kid. A good one. You earned it.
Fuck, I think I need to sit down. Christ.
Nah, I don’t smoke. Where’s my pants?
Sure...let me get my wallet.
Here. And a tip.
You hang out there a lot?
Cool. See ya next weekend. (chuckle) Got a brother?
ABOUT THE AUTHORS
BARRY ALEXANDER’s fiction has appeared in several magazines and in anthologies including Best of Friction, Best Gay Erotica 2002, Saints and Sinners, and all of David MacMillan’s anthologies: Casting Couch Confessions, Freshman Club, Rent Boys, Skin Flicks 2, Divine Meat, and Lovers Who Stay with You. Alexander lives in Iowa, the tall porn state.
MIKE BRUNO has been a flight attendant for ten years and has had opportunities to drool over men of all ages in more than thirty countries. He recently completed his first novel and, after misspending his youth in San Francisco, now lives in Colorado with his partner and a houseful of pets.
DALE CHASE has been writing male erotica for a decade, with more than a hundred stories published in various magazines and anthologies, including translation into Italian and German. Her single literary story appeared in Harrington Gay Men’s Fiction Quarterly. A California native, she lives near San Francisco and is at work on an erotic western novel and a collection of ghostly erotica. In a former life she wrote fiction for motorcycle magazines.
MARTIN DELACROIX writes novels, novellas, and short fiction. He lives on Florida’s Gulf Coast.
JAMIE FREEMAN lives in north Florida. He divides his time between a day job as a corporate communicator and flirtations at night with the muse. Whatever time remains he devotes to reading, running, and watching old movies on late-night television. He has previously published a children’s book and has a completed novel manuscript waiting patiently on the edge of his desk. He can be reached at JamieFreeman2@gmail.com.
DOUG HARRISON’s writing appears in Still Doing It, Men Seeking Men, Applied Optics, Best Gay Erotica 2001,Tough Guys, Bad Boys, Optica Acta, Bearotica, Kink, Sex Buddies, Journal of Luminescence, Hot Gay Erotica, Best S/M Erotica, Guilty Pleasures, on a few patents, and in several upcoming erotic anthologies. His online memoir, In Pursuit of Ecstasy, appears in The Shadow Sacrament: a journal of sex and spirituality. Doug was active in San Francisco’s leather scene, the Modern Primitives movement, and the San Francisco Wagner Society. He appears in videos, photo shoots, and an AIDS Emergency Fund’s Bare Chest Calendar. He is a member of the Chicago Hellfire Club. He has an ex-wife, two children, a grandchild, a tomcat, and a domestic partner of twelve years, Bill Brent, with whom he lives in Hawaii. Find him at pumadoug@hawaii.rr.com.
T. HITMAN is the nom-de-porn of a professional writer who routinely contributes features and short stories to a number of national magazines and fiction anthologies. He has also written several novels and nonfiction books, along with the occasional script for television.
SHAUN LEVIN is the author of Seven Sweet Things and A Year of Two Summers. An extract from his work in progress, Whitechapel Boys, was recently published in the anthology Desperate Remedies. He is the editor of Chroma: A Queer Literary Journal and teaches creative writing in London.
