Fucked Up Reunion

Hello everyone, this is my first time uploading a story here, if you find my writing erotic, please let me know...

~AL

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It's almost night time when the plane touched down, and I immediately regretted coming back. Eight years. Eight fucking years since I last stepped foot in this wretched town. Eight years since I came out to my parents and got tossed out like trash. I was 18, broke, and clueless. I don't even know why I came back here, maybe to rub it in their faces that I'm doing fine without them or is it perhaps cuz the old man's dying?

Karma's a bitch.

Two weeks ago, my birth giver called. No idea how she even got my number. Her voice shaky as she told me my sperm donor was sick, some disease I didn't bother remembering. She said they wanted to "make amends." Like that fixes shit.

I'm Kaiden or Kai for short. Back then, I was a scrawny, acne-riddled kid everyone treated like a freakin contagious disease. But now, I'm lean, sharp, and handsome as fuck, if I say so myself. No scars, no blemishes, pretty much unrecognizable.

I spent years on the streets, scraping by, doing shit I'm not proud of. But I survived. Thrived, even. Until that damn phone call.

The taxi pulled up to my old house. Same dump, just more weeds and a busted fence. I grabbed my bags, tipped the driver, and walked up to the door and knocked.

The door opened. Two wrinkled familiar faces stared back.

"Kai?" Mom said, shaky. "You've...changed."

"Yeah, no shit," I muttered.

She was taken aback. But I remained stoic.

"Come in, come in,"

She gestured me inside. The house hadn't changed either.

"Looks the same as the day you kicked me out," I said, dropping my bags.

They froze, looking like I'd slapped them. Good. Let them feel a fraction of the shit I'd been carrying for eight years.

"Are you hungry? I made cookies," Mom said.

I stared at her like she was crazy which she is by the way.

"Is Mason home?" I asked instead.

Mason's my older brother. Just two years older. We used to be close, very close. He's a high school star athlete, and the guy who had my back, or used to had my back. Well, not until the day he just stood and watched these bigots kicked me out into the street.

"No, but he'll be here tonight," she said.

Of course he would.

"You know why I'm here, right?"

"Yes," she said quickly. "Sit down. We need to talk."

We sat in the living room.

"So...how have you been?" she asked.

"How have I been?" I laughed. "Great, Mom. Just fucking great. Living my best life since you tossed me out like garbage. Thanks for asking."

Dad cleared his throat. "Kai, we're...sorry. We didn't know how to handle it back then."

"'Handle it?'" I snapped. "I was just a kid. You didn't handle shit. You threw me out. You left me on my own. Do you have any idea what that does to someone? You think throwing me out into the street will magically make me crave pussy?"

"Okay, okay. Let's talk about something else," Mom said.

"No, let's talk about it," I growled.

She looked at me, pleading. Too bad, I couldn't have cared less. I came here to give them a piece of my fucking mind.

"The reason we called you here is because...your dad has cancer."

"And the doctor said that it's advancing pretty fast."

I rolled my eyes. "Wow. Guess his days are numbered."

"Kaiden!" Mom cried. "How could you say that?"

"Oh please. Do you think, him being sick would change anything?"

"Let's not pretend I'm the bad guy here. It's been eight years. Eight fucking years. You think I'm just gonna forget what you people did?"

"We don't expect you to forget," Mom choked out. "We just...want to be a family again."

"A family?" I spat. "You lost that right when you kicked me out for being gay."

The room went silent.

I stood, itching to leave.

"I'm gonna cool off," I said, heading for the door.

"Kai, wait--"

I stormed out into the street. I thought seeing them, and saying what's been bottling up inside me for the past 8 years, would give me peace. But fuck no, it only made me more pissed off. I don't know where I'm even going. I walked for what felt like forever until I stumbled in front of a grimy bar with a flickering neon sign.

Looks like the universe wants me to get wasted.

The bar was packed as I walked in, reeking of sweat, booze, and bad decisions. Yeah, I could smell that shit too.

Guys laughing, shots slamming, girls screaming along to some shitty Christmas song. But I wasn't here for that. I was here to burn off some steam.

I ordered a whiskey, downed it, and went for another. I looked around and my sight caught a guy across from the bar.

Tall. Broad shoulders, wearing a cowboy hat. He was propped against the counter like he owned it, talking to someone, but his eyes were on me. He downed his drink while clearly checking me out.

I didn't look away.

Never had a cowboy before, and fuck, this one looked like he'd ruin me in all the best ways.

He smirked, slow and cocky, then curled his finger, beckoning me over.

I smirked back. Fuck me, looks like tonight's gonna be interesting.

I grabbed my drink and pushed through the crowd, eyes locked on him.

I didn't make it two steps before some idiot slammed into me, spilling whiskey all over my shirt.

"Fuck, watch it, man!" I snapped.

"Shit, sorry," the guy said, stepping back.

I looked up--and holy shit. I almost forgot how to breathe.

The guy was stupid hot. Two, three inches taller than me, built like he lived in the gym. His shirt clung to his chest, his arms, and those biceps? Fuck. The kind you'd want wrapped around your throat while he fucked you.

He looked like a goddamn Viking. But somehow his eyes looked familiar.

I forgot what I was about to say.

"Damn," I muttered instead.

"You good?" he asked, smirking like he knew exactly what I was thinking.

"Yeah," I said, brushing whiskey off my chest. "Just... watch where you're going next time."

He laughed, like I'd just said something funny.

"Noted. Nice shirt, by the way. You a fan?"

I glanced down. My shirt had the logo of some random football team I'd picked up at a thrift store.

"Not really," I muttered, "Just something I threw on."

"Shame, man, you're missin' out," he said, grinning. "I used to play in high school. College too. You play any sport?"

"Nah," I said, smirking. "More of a sidelines guy."

"Smart." His eyes dragged down my body. "You save yourself the bruises."

I chuckled, and for a second, I forgot about Cowboy Hat.

"Name's K--uh, Alex," I said, pulling the first name that popped into my head.

"Calix?" he asked, eyebrow quirking.

"Jack," he said, sticking out his hand.

I shook it, and holy fuck, his grip was firm, rough, and hot. My mind immediately went to what those hands could do.

"You here alone?" he asked.

"Could ask you the same," I said, leaning in just a little.

He grinned, teeth flashing.

"Touché."

Jack flagged down the bartender.

"Let me get you a drink. Make up for messing your shirt."

I looked at my soaked shirt, I could ask for a different payment but a free drink would do. For now.

"Sure," I said, shrugging. Should've asked him to take his shirt off instead.

We talked. Well, he talked. Football, mostly but I wasn't really listening. My eyes kept drifting to his mouth. Full, soft lips that looked like they'd feel sinful as hell against mine.

Then he licked his bottom lip.

Just a quick flick of his tongue. It was sexy as fuck. All I could think about was biting and sucking that lip.

He caught me staring and leaned in, close enough that I could smell the faint whiskey on his breath.

"You keep staring at my mouth, Cal," he whispered. "Got something on your mind?"

I smirked, shameless, not bothering to make up a stupid excuse. "Maybe I like what I see."

"Maybe?" That cocky grin of his was pure fucking trouble. "You wanna get outta here?"

My dick twitched. Couldn't believe what I'd just heard.

"You serious?" I asked, wanting to be sure.

"Yeah," he said. "My place isn't far. Bet we'd have a good time."

Jesus Christ. He could've suggested an alley or the bathroom, and I'd already be unzipping his jeans.

"Let's go," I tried not to sound desperate.

We left the bar fast. He walked slightly ahead, and I took the chance to really check him out. His thighs were thick, like a trunk, bet it'd be paradise to put my head there. Let him squeeze it while I licked his balls, his cock, whatever I could reach. His shoulders were broad, and damn, his back's massive and hot, perfect to grab onto while he fucked you senseless.

But somehow, I got this feeling like I knew him from somewhere.

Ten minutes later, we stopped outside an apartment complex. He led me to the third floor, and in front of his apartment. He unlocked the door, pushed it open, and gestured me to step first inside.

The place was small, cozy, but none of it mattered.

I wasn't here for the tour. I'm on a different mission.

As soon as he shut the door close, I shoved him against it, my lips crashing into his. It took him a second to respond, but then he took control, his tongue slipped past my lips, pulling a moan out of me. My hands slid up his chest, grabbing at his shoulders, desperate to feel more. One hand went down and snuck under his shirt, tracing the tight lines of his abs.

"Fuck, Cal," he panted. "You don't waste time, do you?"

"Nope," I said, my hands going down to his belt.

But before I could even get it undone, he spun me around, shoving me against the door. His cock was already hard, grinding against my ass through his jeans, and fuck, it felt massive.

"You feel that?" he muttered, his lips brushing my ear. "That's what you're doing to me."

"Then let me fucking see it," I shot back, turning and grabbing at his belt again.

"Jesus, you're fucking impatient." He chuckled, his hands gripping my waist as I fumbled with his buckle. "You sure you can handle all this?"

"Why don't you shut the fuck up and find out?" I said, smirking as I got to unhooked his belt.

"Fuck, you got a mouth," he growled. "Why don't we put it to good use."

Before I could say another word, he grabbed my arms, pinning me harder against the door as he kissed me again. It was sloppy, messy, and full of fucking need.

When his grip loosened, my hands dropped to his jeans, popping the button and tugging the fly.

I stroked his cock through his underwear, thick, warm, and straining against the fabric. Fuck, I could feel how huge he was. I slid my hand under the waistband, reaching for it, wanting to feel more. His cock's heavy same with his balls.

I shoved down his underwear along with his jeans. His cock sprang free, thick and heavy, bouncing in the air. It was fucking huge. More or less 11 inches, dripping with precum.

"Holy fuck," I muttered, staring at it.

He smirked, gripping the base and stroking himself once. "What's wrong? Too much for you?"

"Fuck no."

"Good," his hand came up, gripping the back of my neck. "Why don't you stop gawking and fucking taste it."

That did it.

My knees felt weak, as I dropped in front of him.

My hand wrapped around him, and fuck, he felt just as good as he looked. And the scent. Fuck the scent drives me crazy. It smelled musky and masculine, sharp enough to make me drool.

His cock's goddamn heavy my fingers couldn't even close all the way around girth. I give him a few good strokes before squeezing more precum.

"Fuck, yeah," he muttered, his hand sliding into my hair as I leaned forward and licked a slow stripe up the underside of his cock. "That's it. Get your fucking mouth on it."

I didn't need to be told twice. I opened my mouth, wrapping my lips around the fat head, my tongue swirling as I sucked him deeper, tasting the saltiness of his precum.

"Shit," he groaned, his hips jerking forward. "Fuck, just like that."

I moaned around him, taking him deeper, my hand stroking the base where I couldn't fit him. He was too big to take all at once, but I fucking tried, hollowing my cheeks, spit dripping down my chin as I worked him.

"Stop being a pussy and swallow every inch" he growled, pushing more of his cock into my mouth. I try to relax my throat, but fuck he's too big, I gagged around him.

"Fuck yeah, that's it," he groaned, "Choke on that."

I felt my eyes tear up. More spit dripped down, as I pulled back, gasping.

He slapped his cock against my cheek, smearing precum across my lips.

"C'mon, Cal. Show me you can take it."

I opened wide, swallowing his cock deeper, my throat burning as I pushed until his pubes tickled my nose.

"Fuck, yeah," he groaned, his hand tightening in my hair. "I knew you could do it."

"You're so fucking talented, baby," he muttered, rolling his hips.

"Shit," he hissed, his cock throbbing against my tongue. "Feels so fucking good."

He gripped my hair tighter, fucking into my mouth now.

"No one had ever taken this cock better than you, Cal," he muttered, his thrusts grew frantic and restless.

I moaned around him, spit dripping down my chin. His groans turned into growls, his hand tightening in my hair as he started thrusting harder.

"Fuck, your throat's fucking tight," he hissed, his hips jerking forward, his cock hitting the back of my throat, making me gag again.

"Look at me Cal. Look at me while I fuck your throat," he said, his voice rough and breathless as he thrust deeper.

I glanced up at him, tears streaking my cheeks as he kept pounding his hot cock into my throat. It was messy, and rough. I feel his cock twitching. His breathing became ragged and uneven.

"Oh shit, fuck-- shit." he hissed, his thrusts faltering. "You're gonna make me fucking come."

He yanked me off suddenly, hand grabbed my hair tight, pulling me back. He wrapped his other hand around his dick, forearm flexing, veins popping as he held back his violently throbbing cock.

"Fuck, not yet," he gritted, his chest heaving.

"Oh, fuc--."

He tried to held it back but a thick bead of pearly white cum welled up at the tip and fell.

I didn't even think. I caught it on my tongue, my lips wrapping around the head for just a second to taste him.  The saltiness and slight sweetness of his spunk hits my tongue.

"Shit," he hissed, his body jerking. His hand shot back to my hair, pulling me away again. Rougher.

"Fuck, don't!" he growled, jaw clenched so hard it looked like it might crack.

After a bit, he let out a low, breathless chuckle, shaking his head as he looked down at me.

"Fucking hell," he muttered, "You almost fucking made me bust a nut."

I swallowed, my tongue flicking out to catch whatever was left.

"You taste so fucking good," I said.

I saw his eyes immediately darkened.

"You want a prize for being such a good little slut?"  he asked, eyes intense, locking onto mine.

I blinked up at him, licking my swollen lips. "Fuck yeah."

"Open your mouth," he commanded.

"Open your fucking mouth, Cal." He repeated.

I didn't argue. I opened my mouth. He leaned in closer. His tongue slid out, and I felt his spit drips into my tongue.

"Shit," I muttered, barely able to get the word out.

He gathered a thick wad and spat it squarely to my tongue.

"Swallow," he ordered.

I swallowed without hesitation, it felt dirty as fuck but damn it was fucking hot. My tongue darted out, licking my lips instinctively.

"Fuck," I muttered.

"More."

His eyes flickered, and his lips curled.

"You want more?" he asked.

"You dirty fuck. Open your mouth again."

I opened up. And he did it again. Some of his spit went down my chin.

Before I could even swallow, his hand slid to my jaw, tilting my head up as his mouth crashed onto mine.

His teeth grazed my bottom lip as his tongue pushed inside, claiming every inch of my mouth.

When he finally pulled back, his lips were wet, his breathing heavy.

"Fuck, man. You don't look like a slut but damn you are one." he muttered, his thumb brushing my bottom lip again, smearing his spit all over.

"You're dirty as hell. Just the way I fucking like it."

"You ain't seen shit yet." I said, smug as fuck.

He laughed, his thumb brushing over my bottom lip. "Now get the fuck up. We're going to my room."

I stood up as he yanked off his shirt and tossed it to the side.

He led me toward his bedroom. His cock was still rock-hard, bouncing with every step, and appeared to be drooling, a long strand of thick precum hanging at the tip. I couldn't stop staring at it.

His room looked well-lived, just a few clothes scattered around.

"Clothes off," he barked.

I stripped without hesitation. I'm confident in my lean build, but fuck, standing there with him fully naked, looking like a goddamn Greek statue with hung horse cock, I felt... smaller.

"Damn, Cal," he muttered, moving closer. "You're hot as hell."

His hand ran over my lean build, sliding down until he reached my eight inches cock, giving it a few slow strokes. I groaned, tilting my head back.

"Not bad," he said. "You had your fun. Now it's my fucking turn."

He shoved me onto the bed. Before I could say anything, he flipped me onto my stomach, pinning me down with one big hand on my back.

"Face down and ass up," he ordered.

I didn't argue, just obeyed. The position was degrading, but damn, it's turning me on.

"Fuck, what a fine looking ass," he muttered, before smacking it, making me groan. His hands went on both cheeks, spreading me open.

"Look at this tight hole, waiting for a big dick to wreck it."

He teased my hole with his thumb, circling it around the tight ring.

"Don't fucking move,"  he growled.

I shivered and stopped fidgeting, my cock throbbing against the sheets as I felt him spit on me. The warm slick dripped down, and then I felt his tongue, hot, wet, and filthy.

"Shit!" I gasped, my hands clutching the bedding as his tongue dragged over me, circling and teasing, fucking working me open.

"That's fuckin dirty." I muttered.

He laughed, low and dark.

"Yeah, it is," he said, "And you fucking like it, don't ya?"

I did. It felt too fucking good.

"Fuck, you taste so good," he growled, his voice muffled as he buried his face between my cheeks.

I moaned, my body trembling as he pushed his tongue inside me, slick and dirty, his hands spreading me wider so he could get deeper.

"Goddamn," he muttered, pulling back just enough to spit on me again. "I could eat you all fucking night."

He grabbed a bottle of lube from the nightstand, popped off the cap, squirting a bit onto my hole. I shivered from the cold sensation.

"You're gonna take all of me," he said, slicking up his fingers. "Every fucking inch."

He pushed a finger in, and I groaned, my back arching as he worked me open.

"That's it," he murmured, adding another finger. "Relax for me. Good fucking boy."

He scissored it around, stretching me more.

"You're already loosening up for me, Cal."  he muttered, his fingers curling slightly. "Fuck, look how hungry your hole is."

He started fucking me with his thick fingers. "This is gonna feel good as hell."

By the time he added a third, I was wrecked, panting into the mattress, my cock leaking onto the sheets.

"Ready?" he asked, lining up the slick fat head of his cock at my entrance.

I nodded, gulping, gripping the sheets. "Fuck, yes."

He pushed in, slow and steady, and holy fuck, it burned. My body stretched around him, inch by inch, until he was buried to the hilt.

"Holy shit," he bottomed out, "You feel that? Feel how deep I am?"

I choked out a muffled cry into the sheets.

"Goddamn," he groaned, his hands gripping my hips. "You're so fucking tight."

He stayed still for a moment, letting me adjust, and then he started to move, slow at first, dragging every inch of his cock out before slamming back in.