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Subject: My Boy’s Boy part 15-gay incest My Boy’s Boy Part 15 Please support Nifty!! Donate:: fty/donate.htm This story is fiction. Snippets are from reality with additional kink and dreams of my own added, along with suggestions from readers. I appreciate reader feedback–it’s the only pay we get here, so feel free to email me at ail. I’m always playing with myself while writing and usually while reading comments as well. Play safe and use your head that can’t be circumcised when playing with others. That’ll help you play with your other head longer. It may soften your prick to think of it, but some things are better left in the land of fantasy. Derrick Dylan’s view I smelled like cum when I pulled into my parking spot in front of my apartment. Looking down there was really no telltale sign of what I had done on my clothes, so I was good. I still could not believe I had jacked off in my car on the way home and that I had been seen. Those guys had to have been talking about me on the rest of their drive. I don’t know why I simply didn’t rub one out in my shorts–literally. I threw my duffle down and decided to go for a run to clear my head. The events of my time at Dad and Craig’s were a total blur. The run would do me some good and maybe burn off the horniness that was still pent up inside me. I would get horny before this past weekend, but it was like something had revved up the amount of testosterone running through me. I ran my usual route and tried to think about the work I needed to get done before my work meetings on Monday. I never should have told my stupid supervisor that I was pretty adept at using spreadsheets. The crap I was doing was easy and certainly didn’t require my math degree to handle. It was good to have a diversion from my ass, my newly discovered gayness, and the Craig/Dad dynamic. The diversion did not last long. I went to my duffle bag to grab my phone charger and there it was: Craig’s jockstrap. I forgot I had taken it. If there was one piece of clothing that screamed Craig it was a jockstrap. I had the black and red one which now seemed like the sexiest of all the colors he had. Seeing it didn’t make my cock twitch at all. No. But it sure did make my ass ache for dick. It was not just any dick I wanted. I wanted Craig’s dick. I just could not believe that I was so into him. Hell, I was even into Dad…just not as much. That was the only thing about this that really shocked the hell out of me: the Craig and Dad aspect of it. I think deep down I always knew I was gay for all those little non-sexual signs that in hindsight are crystal clear indicators. I put the jockstrap in my face and inhaled deeply. I could smell Craig. I could smell his cock, his piss, his cum…and his sweat and his very essence. I could swear that my ass was twitching. And it was twitching for Craig’s cock to be inside it. I thought my first crush would be on istanbul travesti someone my own age–not someone twice my age like Craig and Dad were. I was too old to have a crush on a father figure or so I thought. Hell maybe it wasn’t a crush. Maybe it was more than that. But right now I was horny. It wasn’t my dick that was horny, it was my ass. There were apps I knew I could download on my phone in an attempt to hookup and find sex. In fact, that’s how Craig and Dad actually met–online. I got to looking on my phone and easily found gay chat apps. I knew they weren’t just for chatting. I downloaded a couple that seemed like they were for daddies and bears. That’s what I was looking for. There was only one thing I needed for the accounts: a picture. I wasn’t certain about posting my face, but figured what did it really matter. It wasn’t like I was anyone famous or anything like that. But I figured I needed sexy pictures of myself if I was going to attract guys. I didn’t really want to post a totally nude photograph and didn’t have any sexy underwear. Then I remembered that I did have something I could wear and pose in: Craig’s jockstrap. It made me so hard when I put it on. I was leaking before I knew it. But my ass…it was empty and it needed something in it. I took the typical pictures in the bathroom mirror showing a side view of myself…with the jockstrap framing my ass. It wasn’t a complete picture of my backside, but it showed off my twentysomething body and that I was pretty fit. That was all I needed to get a daddy to want to stick his cock in my hole. I didn’t want another twink. I didn’t want a thirtysomething guy to fuck me. At least not tonight. Tonight I wanted a man who was old enough to be my Daddy to treat me like his nasty little boy. I put the photos in my app profile, added some text about my stats and what I was looking for and put the phone down. I decided to clean my apartment and check the app when I was done. There was no need to sit there waiting for someone to interact with me and I needed a break from thinking about sex and hopefully my cock would soften and my ass would be less horny. My dick would get soft, but I was afraid the horniness I felt in my ass was going to stick around for a while. The app would let me know if I got a message. Some daddy type might message me. I left Craig’s jockstrap on for luck and cleaned my apartment wearing nothing else. Kevin’s View I missed Dylan being around. His mother had custody during most of his younger years and I wasn’t around him as much as I wanted to be. I was glad we had gotten closer in his teenaged years and that our relationship had continued to get better after he had graduated from college. That was to his mother’s credit, at least partially. I was never a good student and was never book smart as some are. How Dylan got as school smart as he was is beyond me and how kadıköy travesti I ended up wit a boyfriend like Craig made no sense to me either. Not only was he a fairly good looking guy, in his alpha dad sort of way, he was smart as hell. Maybe I was smarter than I thought. With Dylan gone I didn’t have any distractions while Daddy was working in his office, so I did some housework and the other tasks I was responsible for. My friends always asked me why I was “responsible” for certain things in the house…and that they were things Craig didn’t want to do. My friend actually said that to me. Craig was honest: he didn’t want to do them and that’s why he didn’t since I was around. He fucking told me that flat out and that’s what I told my friend. Craig always paid the bills and took care of anything that required money in any way shape or form. Craig wasn’t a neat freak, but he was no pig to live with either. He told me once during college that he lived in a frat house for one week before he decided the messiness and bullshit was not for him and he packed up and left. I can just see it. I was reminded of how neat Craig was when I cleaned the bathroom after Dylan left. Fuck. I was going to talk to him before he stayed again. I was cleaning only in my jockstrap. I did it because Craig liked it and because I liked it. It was so hot to live in a house where I could be naked or in a jockstrap whenever I wanted. Craig encouraged it but didn’t require it. Craig loved his jockstraps, but he was missing one. He may eventually notice it, but shit like that never crossed Craig’s radar. I had taken one of his jockstraps that he had worn when Dylan was here and put it in Dylan’s duffle bag as a reminder of his first fuck from Craig. I was standing in the kitchen washing the dishes. There was no dishwasher. Craig could fucking afford one, but he wouldn’t buy one. When he lived by himself he said that doing the dishes was one of his favorite activities where he could do something and not thinking. So I was standing over the kitchen sink, washing dishes and not thinking. That’s when I felt it. The tip of Craig’s cock at my asshole. He must have spit on it before he came in the kitchen. Fucker was probably walking from his office to the kitchen sporting a fucking hardon that was trying to use cock radar to find my ass. He slipped the tip in without saying a word. I pushed back against him. I knew that’s what he wanted me to do. He thrust quickly in my hole balls deep. I felt his arms around me and he shoved himself into me further, pushing me a little bit against the counter. “There’s something so sexy about a bitch washing dishes in a jockstrap. Your ass always feels so good and it’s so hot to fuck in the kitchen.” I debated whether I should be a smartass or not. Craig had a wicked sense of humor himself and either he’d think what I said was funny and laugh or be pissed bakırköy travesti and fuck me harder. To be honest I was hoping for the latter. “Coming in here to fuck me while I wash the dishes is the only reason you don’t buy a dishwasher.” He pulled out and shoved into me as hard as he could and then did that wriggling of his pelvis that made his cock shake in my ass. I loved it. “Took you all this time to figure this out? Don’t you know that most of what I do is about my cock?” He laughed that deep laugh that was contagious and sexy at the same time and then he pulled out, repositioned himself ever so slightly and started fucking me in that way that hit my prostate. Sometimes it made him slightly off balance which was why we didn’t fuck often standing up without some support. Craig was a beefy guy. I was a beefy guy. We wanted to fuck…not fall over. Craig continued to impale my ass and my prostate right there in the kitchen. He kissed me on the neck as he thrust into me. He plunged himself into my ass in such a way that I literally thought he was going to shove my prostate further into my body. He held his cock there and started whispering in my ear: “You are the hottest fucking boyfriend I have ever fucked. I see where Dylan gets his hot hole—from his own Daddy. Your father-son pair of holes are almost more than my cock can take. Almost more.” And he started fucking me fast and hard again. The quiet whispers stopped and were replaced with Craig’s grunts and groans. The lovemaking was over. The fucking had started. Craig shoved in deep and held his cock there and took his nands off the counter and started to pinch my nipples hard. So fucking hard. The fucker was making my nipples hurt and I fucking loved it. My cock was hard. My cock was leaking. My ass was on sexual fire as Craig’s hot meat was filling it and slightly throbbing as it rested in my hole and against my prostate. “Fuck me Daddy.” “Fuck me Hard.” “Fuck me like I’m Dylan Daddy.” “Breed me here Daddy. Breed me now.” Craig’s breathing deepened. His groans and moans changed. They became more guttural and more animalistic. I could tell he was close as his way of fucking became less about my orgasm and more about his own. He just could not help it. After a certain point, Craig’s cock took over control of his fucking and his cock was what mattered. And when Craig’s cock was in control the fucking was wonderful. His dick must have had radar to find my prostate and the hitting of it was too much. My own orgasm started and my ass started it’s assault on Craig’s cock. And he shot in my ass. “Oh fuck you sexy submissive bitch. That was fucking awesome.” And it was awesome and I loved it. And I loved Craig. Even if he did insist on me washing the dishes. That fucker better never buy a dishwasher. I’ve got a few more things in store for these three guys before I wrap this up, but it seems like these characters just have more to do than I originally thought. Ideas and comments are welcome–even if just that you jacked off–and can be sent to me at ail. I really love to hear from readers–especially what you liked and what character resonates with you.

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