"Get over here, Mikey, get your hot little butt over here--" He flings me down onto the bed and our lips collide.
My Trent, my Daddy, my lover.
We've been drinking tonight, which is illegal for me, but we don't care. We're in love. And he still has a bottle of whiskey in one sexy hand.
It hovers above my face. "Open your mouth," he commands, frenzied by alcohol. I obey. The liquor splashes into my mouth, burns my throat as I swallow, fueling my lust. My clothes are torn from my body, thrown aside. Daddy strips down too.
My Daddy is a man. He's made of muscle, made of power. Virile. Commanding. I'm a boy. Young, fragile, thin. You can count each of my ribs, and my shoulders and hips ejaculate awkwardly. I hope that someday I grow up to be as big and strong as my Daddy is. He says I will.
I lie on the bed, naked, my hard cock dripping and bobbing up for my Daddy's touch. Instead, he takes out a bag of blow, cracks it open and begins to spoon it out on the tip of a razor blade.
"Sit still, little boy blue," he says, beginning to form thin, delicate lines of coke on my body. Along a few of my ribs, balanced on my hipbones, along my sternum. It's a game of sitting very, very still. I make it a contest, to test myself: If I love my Daddy, (which I do) I won't be able to move a muscle.
"What a good boy."
His rolled-up bill begins to lift the drugs from my skin, and it tickles, but I don't dare squirm away. His lips curl into the sexy sneer that always forms when he's getting high, puckering to kiss my body between each hit. With the disappearance of each line into Daddy's chiseled nose, my cock throbs more persistently. My Daddy is getting high off of me.
I haven't moved a muscle.
He looks up into my eyes, wearing an expression of wild lust. The cocaine finished, he flips me over onto my stomach. There are so many kinky little things we want to do to each other. But right now, we have to fuck. It's a requirement.
And now, things are really beginning to heat up.
I feel him shove his hard member between my ass cheeks and begin to hump against me. The light in his eyes separating human from animal has gone out. He grunts and moans like a beast in heat.
He's got the bottle again, drizzling whiskey down my back in cold torrents. It eases the friction between us. Daddy spreads my ass cheeks with his big hands and the liquor cools me there. I purse my butthole at him, teasing. I'm cute. He knows he can't resist.
Like a ravenous animal, my Daddy tongues at my asshole. Lapping at the whiskey mixed with sweat, fucking me with his tongue. I shove my ass back onto his face and grind against him.
"You want Daddy?" he asks.
"Yes!" I'm powerless.
"You want Daddy's cock, right in here?"
"Yes!"
He pulls away. I whimper because I know what's coming. Looking over my shoulder, I see him positioning his leaking cockhead at my opening, feel him center himself and begin to push on the impossibly tight ring of muscle.
I relax, try to open up for him. And my Daddy's cockhead pops inside. He pushes straight in to the hilt, I feel his corona sawing past my prostate. My rectum bloats around his fat instrument. It hurts, but I don't care. Maybe I scream, maybe I don't, who knows. Who cares? My Daddy is inside me.
My cock jerks and jumps beneath me as it's pushed into the bed, spitting precum. I arch my back and moan, high-pitched. Daddy grips my hipbones and begins to fuck me. His thick cock slips down my passage, and I feel momentarily empty, until he rams back up into me and I am full of my Daddy again. Deliciously full of my Daddy.
We fall into a primal rhythm, in and out. Like animals, without precision. His huge testicles swing between our legs, slapping against mine. I'm bucking wildly on his steel cock, fucking myself blind on Daddy's rod. The noises he's making are those of a man lost in the throes of indescribable, animalistic pleasure. My heart swells with love, as my Daddy has found indescribable pleasure between my legs.
He pulls out in a frenzy, panting, pours liquor down my back, between our legs, into my yawning hole, then resumes his relentless fucking. The wet sounds of lovemaking fill my ringing ears, and the musky smell of sex mixes deliciously with the sharp, clear sting of spilled alcohol. My head spins.
I'm screaming like a virgin. Squealing out incoherent pleas for more, more, more; promises to be a good boy if Daddy just keeps fucking me. Harder, Daddy. Faster, Daddy. More. More. MORE.
I can't take it anymore. "C- ah, cumming!" I gasp. My back arches as ropes of my love for Daddy shoot out between my stomach and the sheets. My orgasm is short, but powerful. Daddy doesn't stop. He doesn't miss a beat. What a stud my father is.
But even he can't last forever. As my cock begins to soften, I feel his thrusts beginning to change. Daddy's approaching his orgasm. I tighten my muscles around him, cry his name out in a primal scream, beg for his sperm. And as my reward for being such a good little trick, he gives me what I want.
With a backbreaking thrust, Daddy's cock explodes with torrents of his rich, hot seed. His arms hold me perfectly still, and his teeth sink into my bony shoulder. Spurt after spurt of steaming jism shoots from his testicles, out of the very cock from which I sprang, nineteen years previous. Millions of little brothers swim frantically, seeking out what they will never find inside me. The sheer volume of his orgasm is massive; I regard it as a testament to how much he loves me.
My Daddy is a stallion, breeding his bucking colt.
When the shock of our orgasms subsides, his softening cock slithers out of my ass and he collapses on the bed beside me. One arm is thrown over my body, his fingers seek out a lock of hair to play with as he looks into my eyes.
Daddy's tired. He wants to fuck again, but he needs to rest first. I crawl over closer to him, and our lips meet as I roll him over onto his back. Our world tilts, swimming in alcohol.
A trail of kisses down Daddy's hairy chest and stomach leads me to his softening member, drooping into that studly, slightly-swollen, post-orgasmic state I love so much. I take his shaft in my hand; so big and thick and rubbery that it tries to flop away again, but I don't let it. It takes two hands. I squeeze, pulling my grip up and down. He's not getting hard again anytime soon, I have time to play. The head goes straight to my mouth, where I lick around his pisshole, occasionally sticking the tip of my tongue inside the tiny lips, flicking it in and out like a lizard tongue. I don't mean to arouse him; this is all for me. I work his foreskin down past his cockhead, marveling at all of this extra material he didn't let me keep, and dig out drying cum with my fingertip. I nibble gently at his 'skin, sucking it in between my teeth and caressing it with my tongue.
Sensing Daddy's gaze, I look up. Propped on an elbow and looking at his boy with a bemused, loving expression he asks, "Why do you always do that?"
