Read Part 1 Here.

*****

Part 2…

Roy spooned me, pressing his hairy chest and belly into my back. We were both still slick with sweat. His boner was growing, despite rogering me only 10 minutes ago, poking at my vulnerable rear. I knew what he expected of me, so I obligingly pushed my hips back, pushing my butt against his insistent manhood as he had taught me. He murmured filthy sweet nothings as he chewed my ear and raked his hard-on through my crack. As his hands held onto my wrists, I thought back to when we had first grabbed me like this.

That Saturday, three months ago, on the golf course. He had been hounding me to hit the links with him all summer, and I had been able to fend him off until I ran out of excuses. In my year and half of marriage with his daughter and the two-year courtship prior, I had gotten along with Roy fine, but to say he was overbearing would have been an understatement, and I didn’t want to spend my precious Saturday with the old blowhard. So now, in October, near the end of the season, I had finally relented, and we were the only two men out there.

As I teed up at the seventh hole, I felt his presence behind me. He smells of cigars and sweat. Without warning, Roy had grabbed me from behind, pulling me into him to adjust my stance. Throughout the day, he had been chiding me with tips and critiques on my game, but now he was taking matters into his own hands.

“Come on. Open up your legs. Shoulder-width apart.” I looked down to see his foot come between mine and kick them open. He held me close behind me, his arms wrapped over my shoulders, his hands clasping mine around the golf club. I hadn’t been held like this since playing baseball as a teenager when my coach would tweak our batting stance. It had made me blush then, even though I knew it was appropriate and part of playing the sport. I felt the same flustered warmth spreading over my face, and my heartbeat quicken, but I knew that this was just Roy’s way. Touchy-feely, overly familiar.

“That’s it, stick your little butt out. Don’t be shy, son.” He released my hand and slapped my haunch impatiently, then trapped my wrists again. Finally, I reluctantly stuck my hips out, pressing my backside into his crotch.

“Come on, push that little rump out. That’s it, Billy.” I felt the thickness of his hefty groin pressing into my buttocks. He used one of his hands to hold my hips close to him. The embarrassing truth was, I had always noticed that my father-in-law was a well-hung man. It was obvious in any pair of pants he wore. But now I could feel it. Feel the weight and pressure of his heavy, flaccid cock and balls up against my butt. My heartbeat rapidly, and I felt myself sweating, agitated to be thinking thoughts like this. To be thinking of my father-in-law’s cock as only a few layers of clothing protected my rear end from it.

Finally satisfied that I had adopted the proper stance, he released me, cupping and patting my pushed-out backside rump once more for good measure. He kept his hands to himself as we finished the round but kept up the unsolicited advice and critiques of my game as we left the links.

“And remember, keep your head behind the ball at impact.” He coached as we returned to our lockers. As I walked in, he slapped my butt in encouragement, maybe for the sixth time that day.

“No son of mine is going to be bad at golf, Billy.” I always cringed when he said stuff like this. Calling me his son- it had begun well before the wedding. I didn’t have anything against him, but it was just so uncomfortably intimate. So I just smiled and ignored him.

Roy kicked off his shoes at our lockers, then dropped his pants and underwear in one quick motion. I looked out of the corner of my eye as he stepped out of his pants and briefs – it was strange to me, his shirt and socks were still on, but he was naked from the waist down. “Shirt-cocking” or “porky-pigging” an old roommate in college had done the same, enjoying walking around with just a shirt on, dick peeking out beneath.

Roy took his time, pulling off each of his socks and put them away in his locker, all while his big dick hung out from beneath his golf shirt, swinging like a grandfather clock. It felt like he did this deliberately – exposing his penis to me.

As I sat on a bench, I tried to face the corner and protect my modesty, but Roy would grab my shoulder and turn me to him as he gave me pointers about my game while stark naked. Then, while I sat on the bench to unlace my shoes, he propped his leg up on it, opening his crotch to me, his penis inches from my face. I couldn’t help but take a few peeks. It almost felt like Roy wanted me to see it, the way he was waving it at me. It was big, thick, and hairy, just like him.

“Alright, decent job out there today, son. Now let’s hit the showers.” He stood above me, hanging hog, rubbing his hands on his big, furred belly with satisfaction.

“I don’t know, Roy, I’m probably good. I didn’t really sweat that much…” I trailed off, struggling to keep my eyes above his waist. I was just going to keep on my underwear and socks and put the clothes I had worn to the club back on. I didn’t want to get naked with the pushy old man.

“Nonsense. What are you, some kind of sissy, scared to get bare ass with your father-in-law?” He goaded me, making me blush. He continued before I could answer.

“Come on. You’ve showered with your old man before, haven’t you?” He demanded, looking me up and down.

“When I was much younger, yeah,” I admitted. He slapped my bare shoulder roughly and joked.

“Well, I’m your Daddy now, too. You ain’t got nothing between your legs I haven’t seen before, kiddo. So get your little butt in the shower.” He said with a wink. He was walking the line between joking and seriousness. Teasing me into nakedness. Again I relented.

Reluctantly I wrapped a towel around my waist, lowered my underwear as he stood there expectantly, my self-conscious towel-dance making him snort with derision. Then I followed him to the showers. He kept his own towel over his shoulders, exposing his wide, furry ass to me. I had never seen such a big or hairy rear end before. He must have had a size 40 waist. It was almost impressive.

After we hung our towels, he moved to the showerhead right next to mine despite all the open space. He closed his eyes and let the stream run over his head, spinning in place and moaning in pleasure.

“Ahh, isn’t that better? Just two men enjoying a shower together.” He lathered up his big barrel chest with soap.

“See, Billy boy, I think it’s better for us men just to let it all hang out.” He shook his cock at me lewdly. His big hog slapped against his chubby thigh, and I flinched at the loud wet sound.

“Or I guess just poke out in your case, little buddy.” He laughed, and I watched in shock as his right hand reached between my legs. He crooked his index finger under my little penis head and shook it slightly.

I gasped, momentarily paralyzed. Then I surprised myself. Instead of moving away from him or turning around to protect me, I just stood there and ever so slightly opened my thighs and pushed my hips to him. I don’t understand why, but I offered my genitals to his mocking finger.

He jiggled it under his digit, winking at me, a big smirk on his face. I was too ashamed to meet his delighted gaze, so I just watched his finger work on my dick. It bobbed around ridiculously, and it seemed to retract in embarrassment, my shaft disappearing entirely like a compressed accordion so that the entirety of my penis looked as tiny as an acorn.

“Coochie-coochie-coo!!” He called out, his deep voice and the throaty laughter that followed echoing against the tiled walls of the shower. He was standing so close, his big belly almost bumping into my stomach, that I felt his hot breath on my chest and neck as he laughed. He was tickling it, tickling my glans, my little dick head.

I looked down and watched him play with my penis, clearly belittling its size. With his own massive hog on display, looking three or four times as large as mine, it was all the more blatant. He treated my things like it was just a little joke, a little toy to be fiddled with and played with. I felt paralyzed, my legs weak, and I knew my face was furiously red from embarrassment.

“Roy, please.” I stepped away, my voice more pleading and pathetic than I intended. He laughed again and gave my pecker a few more tickles.

“I’m just busting your chops, kiddo. You’re perfect just the way you are.” He then reached around to slap my bare butt cheek, making me jump up in surprise. Then, for a moment, he returned to the mundane golf prater, and I was able to wash in peace. I couldn’t’ focus on a single word – my heart was racing from having him fondle my pecker like that.

“Billy, do me a favor and wash my back, will you?” He asked, facing away from me.

I took in the sight of his broad, hairy back. We were the same height, but he was a much larger man, and his back looked powerful. His pale skin was speckled with moles and carpeted by a wiry, gray hair that did not look much thinner than the hair on his chest. He had the back of a medieval blacksmith.

“Soap me up and rub it in with your hands.” He directed. I knew that if I resisted, his will would win out, and he’d likely humiliate me in the process of browbeating me into washing his back. So, I just agreed and filled my hands with soap from the dispenser. Then, taking a breath, I placed my hands on my father-in-law’s big, strong, hairy back.

“That’s it, get in there.” He encouraged me as I rubbed up and down, from his shoulders to the sides, down to the small of his back, and then up again. His thick back hair, wet and soaped up, raked against my hands like seaweed. I think he would have grossed me out in the past, but instead, I was strangely fascinated. Curious and somehow impressed by his almost grotesque masculinity.

“Hmmm, those soft hands of yours sure feel nice.” He groaned in pleasure as I massaged him under the warm shower stream. I know that I should have found his body repulsive, his back coated in thick, wiry gray hair. But somehow, I was in awe of his manliness.

“Come on. Don’t be shy now. Don’t neglect the ass, son.” At his prompting, I lowered my trembling hands to his posterior. I touched it lightly with my fingertips, and he grunted with frustration, reached around to grab my wrists, and force my open palms against his huge butt. My hands were filled with my father-in-law’s big buttocks.

“Don’t be a pantywaist. It’s just one guy helping another out.” He released my hands, and I obeyed him, soaping up and rubbing his huge, hairy naked ass. He groaned with gratification as I rubbed his big backside.

I looked at it as I worked. Like his big hairy back, I found myself admiring it despite myself. The breadth of it looked powerful to me. His cheeks jiggled as I rubbed them. Roy was overweight, but he had muscle beneath his excess fat. Like me, he had played baseball in his youth, as well as wrestling, but he had been gifted with a natural stoutness, an innate heft, whereas I was slender by nature and had to work at the gym to keep any muscle on my body. The perverse thought returned to me unbidden: this was a powerful ass. I got a queasy feeling in my stomach as I imagined him between a woman’s legs. Rutting, fucking my wife’s late mother. I tried to force the thought out, but it returned even more vivid, and I felt nauseous as I imagined the sight of these big butt cheeks pumping as he humped between a woman’s spread legs.

Trying to force one sick thought of my head made way for another – what if I got down on my knees to do this? What if I got down on my knees and washed his ass? Wasn’t I already serving him, as he had asked? Hadn’t I served him all afternoon, carrying the clubs and scrambling into the rough to catch stray balls like a caddy? He had even asked me to tie his shoes at one point, citing his aching knees. I had kneeled then, put my face inches from his big well-filled groin. Why not now? Roy had always loved to give me little tasks. Little favors and errands when we spent time together. Sending me scurrying off like a puppy to fetch him drinks or his glasses or whatever he wanted. And hadn’t I always hopped up, eager to please like a good son-in-law? It would be quite natural for me to get on my knees to better serve him, I thought.

“That’s it, son, keep at it. Those soft little hands feel like heaven on my keister.” He exhaled happily, and I redoubled my efforts, massaging his efforts with renewed gusto.

I could do it. Kneel onto the shower floor. My face would be inches from the old man’s huge, hairy ass. If I were to get down on my knees to wash him, it would communicate… complete surrender to this man to his manhood. He would know that I was his. He would laugh at me, laugh at my obeisance, tell me what a good boy I was. I wanted him to laugh at me, wanted him to laugh at his weak, shameless son-in-law. I wanted him to laugh and to turn around so that I would see it, right in my face, it would hit me in the face, and I would…

I resisted the obscene impulse to drop to my knees, banished the deviant thoughts taking hold of my mind, and washed the rest of the soap off his butt. Then, finally, I finished my job, removing my shaking hands from his buttocks. He laughed with pleasure and perhaps surprise at my acquiescence and turned to me.

“Good boy. Now turn around, I’ll do you too.” He said casually, placing his hands on my waist, prodding me to spin around.

“Oh, that’s OK, Roy, I’m good.” I protested politely, trying, perhaps far too late, to establish some boundaries.

“Nonsense. This is classic male bonding. Face the wall, boy.” He clasped my bare hips tightly and spun me around. The old man outweighed me and was stronger than me – if he wanted to wash my back, he was going to damn well wash my back. So I just stood there, cringing as I felt my father-in-law’s big rough hands rub soap up and down my naked body, from my shoulder blades, down my spine, and to my butt crack.

“Just relax, Billy, boy. Just relax. Enjoy it. I want you to enjoy it. Enjoy the good feeling and enjoy our closeness, son.” He cooed from behind me. Closing my eyes, I lowered my shoulders and opened my legs just a bit, giving into his strong hands.

“That’s it. Man to man, father, and son. Isn’t that nice, boy?” He hummed into my ear. Roy’s strong hands were relaxing me, and I kept my eyes closed, listening to the soothing stream of the shower. Soon he ventured further south.

Unlike me, he was not shy at all about handling my backside. Instead, his big hands kneaded both of my cheeks like they were pizza dough. It didn’t feel altogether unpleasant, but I thought that I would die of shame, having him touch me so intimately. But all the while, he chattered on happily as if this were the most natural thing in the world, for a man to soap up and openly fondle his son-in-law’s ass. His fingers even grazed inside my crack a few times, tapping my hole.

“You’ve got a nice little can, kiddo. And barely any hair at all. I could almost mistake it for a sexy woman’s behind.” His voice on a lusty huskiness, and as he spoke, he squeezed my glutes appreciatively, fondling them and cupping them hungrily. I just kept my head lowered and my eyes closed, letting my father-in-law feel me up.

When he was done, he roughly slapped my butt cheek like a coach.

“Atta boy. All clean. Just like how old Kyle used to take care of that little hiney back before your balls dropped.” He joked, referring to my father. I stood there in a daze.

“Come on, let’s hit the steam room.”

Roy claimed both of our towels from their hooks and grabbed my bicep to march me butt naked from the showers to the club’s narrow steam room. Luckily there was no one else inside. He sat upon his towel, spreading his legs, completely comfortable with himself and his body.

I laid my towel down and sat upon it delicately. Usually, I would have covered myself, but doing so when he displayed such confidence would have felt unbearably wimpy and self-conscious. And again, that same nagging voice that had encouraged me to kneel, this time bade me stay naked and exposed. To show him my much smaller endowment, up close.

“Ahhh, that’s nice.” The big old man exhaled and leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes. His legs were open, and his cock hung down heavily, seizing my gaze.

I couldn’t help but stare at the big dangling cock between his wide-spread legs. Hanging down from a thick bed of gray pubic hair and resting atop two equally large testicles. Thick and almost maroon-colored. It was magnificently hideous. I had never seen one as large as his in person. It looked like it shouldn’t have been attached to a human but a monster out of a fairy tale.

I caught myself, dazed after having stared at his hog for several minutes, and looked up to his smiling face.

“You know Billy boy. It’s very natural for a little guy like you to be curious about a big old penis like mine. Nothing wrong with it. Go on and take a nice long look, son.” He kicked his leg over so that his foot was propped up to the left of me, on the bench. His heel touched my naked hip as he locked me into the steam room with him.

“Roy, please,” I begged.

“Oh, relax. You’re too uptight. We’re both men. We’re family for Christ’s sake. We’re just having a ‘cock’ talk. It’s good for guys to have a cock talk like this. It’s healthy. Nothing wrong with it,” he said casually as if any of this was normal.

“Cock-talk?” I asked, my voice a quivering whisper.

“Sure, cock talk. Just two men hanging with their dicks out. It’s the most natural thing in the world.” He said, then he snapped his fingers in my face twice.

“Hey! Now get those eyes back on my penis, mister.” He pointed down at his big dick, and obediently my gaze followed. For a few moments, we sat in silence as I looked at the fat, flaccid hammer that hung between his hairy thighs.

“It’s big, right, son?” He gloated, resting his hands upon his hairy gut and winking at me. He shifted his hips a bit, and the big dong rocked back and forth. After a shocked pause, I nodded slightly.

“Bigger than Kyle’s?” I gasped. He was asking me to compare the size of his penis to my own father’s. I froze, paralyzed with shame.

“Come on, you’ve seen it, haven’t you? You’ve seen your old man’s pecker, hmm?” He had a mischievous smile on his face as he prodded me.

“Answer me, boy. Have you seen your old man’s pecker?” He raised his hand and crooked his pinky finger at me, clearly implying that my father had a small penis.

“Yes, I have,” I admitted in a strangled voice.

“Good. So I want you to tell me, is my cock bigger than his little pecker or not? “I nodded, looking just over his head, unable to meet his amused gaze.

“A lot bigger?” He asked, his voice rich with amused contempt for my father.

I nodded rapidly, shamefully enthused to expose my father. He cracked up with a long peal of cruel, raspy laughter that bounced around the tiled walls of the steam room. I let it wash over me. It felt so wrong, admitting this, divulging this secret. I was betraying my own father to Roy, letting him laugh, reveling in his superiority.

“Goddamn. Poor little Kyle. He as small as you then?” I sat there naked as he interrogated me.

“I think so,” I admitted. My heart was in my throat. I was sweating furiously, flush with shame. I had just told my father-in-law that my actual father had a small dick while acknowledging that I, too, was hung like a kid.

“Yeah, that’s right. That’s right, boy. Doesn’t it feel good to open up and be honest with me?” He said patiently.

I closed my eyes and nodded. It felt so good. I wanted to tell him more. Spill it all. I followed the impulse.

“His dick is tiny. It’s so small. “ I blurted out. I couldn’t help picturing it in my head. A pale little field mouse, an acorn, a toadstool, barely poking out of his untrimmed pubic hair.

“Yeah? What else. Tell me, it’ll feel good,” He goaded me, smiling at me triumphantly.

“Your cock… your cock makes his look like a little boy’s.” I immediately regretted saying this about my own father. It made me feel depraved, sick. Roy seemed to read my emotional turmoil on my face and laughed at me in his deep, rich baritone. I felt awful, like I had betrayed my Dad. Roy kept laughing in my face, a loud, braying laughter. The big, hirsute man was laughing at both of us, at both my father and me.

“Perfect, son. I think from now on. You shouldn’t hide a thing with me. Let’s just let it all hang out. Or poke out, right boy?” Again, he poked at my little dick with his finger to emphasize his point. He chuckled at his joke, then sighed and leaned back, resting his arms on the top of the bench behind him.

“Let’s just let it all be open, no secrets, father and son.” He raised his eyebrows at me, expecting an answer, and I nodded, accepting the role he was taking over me.

He continued speaking in dulcet tones, and I felt his hand reach across the steam room and land heavily on my shoulder.

“You don’t have to pretend with me, son. You don’t have to pretend that you’re a man when we both know that you’re still just a little boy.” I kept my eyes shut. However, gently he spoke, he was insulting me, insulting my manhood. Why did it feel so good, hearing him mock me like this? I leaned forward a bit, and he rubbed the back of my neck and head with both hands. It was like I was giving myself to him.

“We’re going to spend a lot more time together like this boy. Time naked together. At least once a week, naked together just like this. Daddy and son. We’ve got make up for the lost time.” He caressed my head and shoulders as he spoke.

“Come on. Get a closer look. That’s it.” At his prompting, I sat forward in my seat, openly scrutinizing my father-in-law’s long, flaccid schlong. The shamefulness of my actions thrilled me, inspecting another man’s hog in abject admiration and awe.

“You want to feel it?” I hesitated, keeping my eyes fixed on his big, thick penis, unable to look him in the eye. My mouth felt too dry to speak.

“Sure, you do.” He grabbed my wrist from my side and brought my captive hand onto his genitals. The heat of it made me gasp, the soft flesh warm against the side of my hand. Closing my eyes, breathing heavily, I slowly unclenched my fist, my fingers grazing through his dense pubic hair before I took his cock in my hand. Its thickness made my heart race. It grew in my hand.

“Hmm, that feels nice. Such soft, soft little hands. Tug at it, son.” His deep voice adopted lewd wetness to it, woozy and full, almost as if he were drunk. I slowly, gently jerked him off.

“Real nice. You give a mean handjob. But It bet what you’d really like, boy, is to suck it.” The words smacked in his mouth. I looked up from his cock to his face. He was telling me to blow him here in the steam room. His tongue lolled around in his mouth.

“Come on. Do it for your old man? Suck me off.” He pumped his hips up from his seat. His cock was now becoming fully erect, impossibly long and large, and he kept both of his strong, hairy hands pressed over mine, trapping my fist over his rod. He opened his mouth and stuck his thick tongue out at me, and I watched with equal fascination and horror as he lapped it at me obscenely.

The wet sound of it flicking out of his mouth was almost nauseating, it felt like he was mocking me, violating me just with this gross gesture, but I could feel a heat in my crotch as my own penis stiffened. He kept at it gratuitously, flicking it up and down.

“I can’t. It’s wrong.” I was on the verge of tears. The shame of my erection was too much to bear.

He cradled my head in his chest, comforting me like I was a small boy.

“Oh, no, no, my boy, it’s not wrong at all. It doesn’t make you a queer. It’s about respect. You were showing me respect as the head of the family. All of this, all the fun we have today, it’s important male bonding.” I closed my eyes and wept, his dense chest hair scraping my face. He held me for a minute or two like this. Then, ridiculously, we both remained hard, and he kept my hands wrapped around his rampant cock. It was overwhelming to hold on to it- the only other dick I’d held was my own, which was so much thinner and shorter than the ugly, beer-can thick beast I grasped now.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered after a few moments, taking a big gulp of air.

Nothing to be sorry about, I know you, Billy. I know what you are. You can be soft with me. You can be weak.” He pets my head. I swallowed a slightly anguished sob- that’s how I felt – soft and weak. Coddled in his arms like a small child. All of the stress and confusion of the afternoon came to the surface as I soaked his chest hair with my tears. But it was more than that – it was all the frustrations and fears I lived with, all the challenges and failures, the difficulty of being a man—the deep insecurities about not being strong enough, not big enough. Yet, sickeningly, crying on his pillowy furred breast, held tight in his warm embrace, felt so good. It felt like I was being unburdened.

“This isn’t the last time you’re going to cry while I hold you, son. And you’ll be butt naked too, just like now. This isn’t the last time you’re going to cry your little eyes out, bare bottom naked and held tight in my strong arms. I promise you that, Billy. Not by a long shot.” He said, patting my head, which he continued to cradle. He spoke the words as if they were consoling, but it felt like a threat, like he was damning me to this shameful state, this pathetic unmanly fragility.

Finally, he kissed the top of my head, then another on my clammy forehead, and slowly sat me up, cupping my chin in one hand.

“Billy, sit up. Look me in the eyes.” Wiping tears away, I met his gaze. He looked at me with a gentle smirk.

“Now open your legs nice and wide. Really show me your little thing.” I obediently parted my thighs as wide as I could and pushed my crotch out, offering him my meager manhood for inspection. I wanted him to see it. For so long, I had tried to hide my undersized dick, especially when hard, and one could see how unhung I really was. But now, I wanted more than anything for Roy to see it and inspect it. I was aching for him to touch it.

For the next few moments, we both watched my open crotch as he played with my penis, fiddling with it in his big fingers. I sat there and let him molest me as he pulled my boner down between my legs, then released it, so it flung back like a slingshot, slapping my belly, or as he lightly pulled at the small thatch of light brown pubic hair above my pecker. His fingers patted my sparse bush, then he gave my painfully hard pecker a few gentle pulls, using only two fingers. Finally, he rolled my little testicles between his thumb and pointer finger. He released my scrotum and brought those fingers to the length of my penis, thumb at my base, the pointer at my head, measuring it. He chuckled to himself quietly, clearly amused by my poor endowment.

“Good boy. Now, look at mine.” I brought my eyes to his huge erection again. The gnarled red staff rested against his heavy gut, reaching past his belly button. He was huge – cock, balls, bush – it was all monstrously big. With both our penises hard and almost side by side in the narrow steam room, it was clear that he was twice as long as mine and far thicker. The contrast of them was astonishing – it felt like a punch to the gut.

“Tell me, Billy, who’s got the man’s cock, and who’s got a little boy penis?” He asked in a gentle voice, that same gloating smile on his face. I struggled to speak.

“Come on, tell me.” He demanded impatiently.

“You’ve got the man’s cock, and I’ve got a little boy penis.” My voice was ragged from the cathartic cry I had just had on his chest. He nodded and raised his finger at me.

“Now I want to hear you say, ‘I have a tiny little boy’s penis.’”

“I have a tiny little boy’s penis,” I said breathily.

“Again.” He ordered, like a teacher imparting a lesson.

“I have a tiny little boy’s penis.” I whimpered louder.

“Again! Louder!” he barked.

“I have a tiny little boy’s penis. I have a tiny little boy’s penis! I have a tiny little boy’s penis!” I practically shouted it, and my self-debasing words bounced around the walls of the steam room.

“Attaboy. Doesn’t it feel good to admit the truth?” I nodded gratefully – the terrible truth was that it felt good, it felt so good to say this out loud, to admit this humiliating reality to him.

“I suspect that with a little tallywacker like that, you’ve never given my poor daughter orgasm from normal sex before. I bet your lovemaking skills leave a lot to be desired. Why you’re probably just as much of a dud in the sack as poor old Kyle, that’s why you must practice your oral capabilities.” A wave of pleasing humiliation ran through my body as he denigrated my sexual prowess. It felt right to have him put me down like this. He toyed with his tongue around in his mouth again suggestively, then continued.

“And it’s even more important that you pay homage to me as the paterfamilias. Show respect to your father-in-law’s big fat cock. Do you understand? It’s about respect.” Somehow, he was able to make this outrageous demand with a straight face and a level voice.

“Roy, please, I can’t,” I whined. His face twisted with mock outrage as I called him by his name.

“Roy? Oh no, no, no, boy. You know that you don’t call me Roy. Oh no. You, little boy, call me “Daddy.” “He said with a huge grin on his face, his words dripping with smugness.

“Say it. What’s my name, little boy?” He demanded, and I groaned quietly, knowing I would not be able to resist. He had twisted my head around all afternoon, confusing me, making me sick with shame and horniness, and brought me this low, literally between his legs.

“Daddy.” I hadn’t called anyone this in nearly three decades. He closed his eyes and smiled, pleased at his power over me. He patted my head and pushed it down to his crotch.

“That’s a good little boy. I’m not Roy. I’m Daddy. Now open your mouth and suck my cock, little boy. I know you’ll be great at it. You’ve got those pretty cocksucking lips.” His big hand grasped the top of my head. I made the slightest movement towards his spread legs, and he pushed me down roughly.

I left the bench and got down on my knees in front of him. My eyes were level to his belly now, and I leaned forward so that I was facing his groin.

His big red cockhead, the size of a nectarine, batted around my lips, brushing past my cheeks. It felt like being sniffed at by an insistent animal, like a dog. I licked around curiously, the salty taste and warm, velvety feeling of his penis making my heart race.

“That’s it. Taste me, son. Lick Daddy’s big cockhead like an ice cream cone.” I ran my tongue over the shaft, and he groaned in pleasure.

The moment I opened my mouth, he invaded, threading his thick fingers between my hair and plunging my head down on him. I struggled to keep my jaw as wide as possible and to cover my teeth with my lips. Besides those efforts, Roy took the lead, lifting his hips off the bench to pummel my mouth with his cock. It wasn’t so much that I was sucking his cock as he was fucking my face.

He grunted and snorted like a boar as he raped my mouth. His thick pubic bush mashed against my forehead, and his heavy balls walloped my chin with each thrust. Somehow I overcame my gag reflex and opened up my trachea, slobbering all over his cock. Roy enjoyed himself, having his way with my mouth, and before long, I felt his big dick grow even harder.

“Every drop, little boy. You’re going to swallow every drop of my seed.” He panted as he humped himself to orgasm. He then roared like an animal as he ejaculated down my throat, his big hairy thighs locked around my neck, imprisoning my head. He shot several thick streams of his spooge right down my throat. I breathed through my nose desperately as I forced each load down into my belly.

Finally, he loosened his thighs and took his cock from my mouth, and he had me lay my head down on his lap. He patted my hair as he spoke to me gently.

“Billy boy, from now on, we’re going to be spending a lot more time together.”

And we did. He would come to me or summon me once a week, then multiple times a week. In fact, from that day on, not a week went by that I didn’t take my father-in-law’s semen into my body, either down my throat or up my ass.

Back in the present, I had been grinding my rear back, presenting myself to him. As I recounted that initial seduction in the shower and steam room, how my father-in-law had gotten inside of my head and never left, I had grown hornier and hornier, pushing my naked ass against his hard cock like a whore. Roy chuckled and accepted my shameless offering, taking my hips in his rough hands and lining up his cudgel of a cock with my hole. Then, with a pop, he was back inside of me.

The End.

 

*This story has been edited to fix spelling, punctuation, & basic grammar, but the narrative and plot have remained the same. Just remember, even with the limited editing we do, it doesn’t mean any possible major flaws in this story were fixed.