the-dadfuckers-club-3

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Subject: Dadfuckers Club ch. 3 Horny Dad Tales 32 The Dadfuckers Club Bill Drake ail) The usual disclaimers apply: this is a made-up fictional story for adult readers only. It contains graphic depictions of sexual activity between men. This draws on a couple of shorter piece I wrote on Tumblr. This chapter contains no incest. Nifty Archive relies on the support from readers to keep doing the awesome work they’re doing. Please take some time to pay back and pay it forward. Horny Dad Tales 32 The Dadfuckers Club Chapter 3 Wes’s story At least in the downtown gym I work in, there are three types of men who are personal trainers. There are the nominally straight bodybuilder dudes. 100% of these guys do dudes on the side. They get off on the worship from their gay clients and they get off on the blowjobs. And most of them get off on the fingers their cocksuckers push up their tight muscled asses. The second group are the gay trainers into other muscle guys. Some of them have more of a muscle-bear look, others are trimmer, but they all go for guys like themselves. And then there’s me. I’m a daddy chaser – a fit and sculpted 25-year-old ex-baseball player and fitness model who’s into older dudes. Always have been since my first JO fantasies. I’m just wired that way. Give me a 40- or 50-plus middle-aged guy, bonus if he’s a muscle daddy with a major contrast between the hard sculpted muscle and the signs of aging. So call it the perks of the job, because this financial district gym is a veritable daddy buffet. I’m always on the rail watching the corporate and finance-type beef strutting around, some of them confident in their workouts, some of them getting back into shape after years of neglect. It’s all good, and I’ve carved out a good niche of personal training business with middle-aged guys who feel comfortable around me and feel I’m attentive to their needs and where they’re coming from. I even got a trademark: The DILF Workout (TM). For men 40 and older. “Six months to get in shape and get your old mojo back” was the tagline and it drove my business through the roof and got me a write up in all the New York mags. “Best up and coming trainer” and then this year, one of “New York’s top 20 trainers.” I could raise my rate, book my week solid, and still be choosy about who to take on as a client. I ended up with some hot daddies of course, but I actually preferred the untapped potential. Loved seeing a guy gone slightly to seed, knowing I could whip him into top shape. It was a professional challenge and why I loved being a trainer. But it was more than that. It was a secret kink of mine to transform an older man. To have a power over him, mind and body and mold him to my specifications. I give them three plans to choose from, depending on their goals and commitment: There is the Basic DILF, a toned up version of a man’s current self with stronger arm and chest muscle and bulked up back, legs and glutes. You know, the power daddy look. This is a popular with the gay guys looking to snag younger tail, as well as some of the straight dudes who still want a masculine look. The Fit DILF is a low-BMI slimmed down look heavy on core strength and tight, toned muscle all over. The Fit DILF gives a guy the Model Daddy look that my buddy Matt went for. This is the most popular option with exec and corporate types, TV and film personalities, and gay guys who muscled out in their young days but have since realized that being trim would keep them marketable. Finally, there is the Muscle DILF package, which lies somewhere between Fit DILF and a full-on bodybuilder body. The Muscle Daddy of my dreams, though I never tell the guys that. Only a portion of my clients, at most 10 percent, want to become muscle daddies. I pride myself on professionalism and have never slept with my clients. Well, I did once. A hot type-A TV news producer who bulked up real well. Turns out he was a bottom bitch in the sheets, and I spent the winter two years ago fucking him. But I usually know not to mix business with pleasure. **** “You think you can handle another 10, Matt-O?” I didn’t relish giving up my 6AM slot to my friends Matt and Mac. Three times a week no less. It’s normally when my services were in demand from the professional set, and by now I was charging pretty good rates for personal training. But the guys really valued my expertise, sometimes more than my clients. So I gave them a modified session while I got my own workout in, each Friday, Sunday, and Tuesday morning. Of the four others in the Dadfuckers Club, Mac had the best body. In shape, built, well proportioned. And he was eager to keep it that way and work on his weak spots. Ryan had a good body, too, and kept in shape in part through playing recreational water polo. Jim had that rugby-player build and was happy with his bulk and beer gut. Matt’s a good looking dude, but sometimes just needs an extra push. Like today. I was upping the weight on the bench, and I could tell Matt was questioning whether all of this… the 3x a week weight training, the cardio, and the additional core exercises, was worth it. Matt sat up and rubbed the soreness in his tris. “Fuck, Big D, I thought this would be getting easier.” Lately the guys had started using the nickname, based on my last name. Mac chimed in. “Gotta keep in perfect shape for that Connecticut daddy you’re banging. You want him to keep sniffing around your bone, don’t you?” That had made Matt grin. “He keeps sniffing around it, all right. I’m worried he’s gonna run out of excuses to sneak around his wife.” “Spoken like a true romantic,” Mac quipped as Matt got up off the bench and made way for him. I added more weights and secured them. Mac was pushing past his plateau on the bench press. Matt laughed. “You’re just upset because your boss called things off.” Whether Matt pissed Mac off or not, it was the guy’s best set in weeks. I barely had to assist on the last rep. He exhaled and smiled. “He’s my ex-boss now.” Mac had a new job. “And for your information, I’ve been banging the guy for the last two weeks.” “You serious?” Matt grinned. “Yeah, it seems the old boss couldn’t stay away from this,” he said, cupping his junk through his workout shorts. “It’s been awesome.” “What about you, Big D?” Matt asked. “You met anyone?” I slipped beneath the barbell, ready for my set. “Damn, I’m so overdue, I’m going crazy.” “You’re took picky, man,” Mac said. “Tons of Grindr daddies out there for the picking, especially with your bod.” I pumped out my set then sat up. “I put a hell of a lot of work into this,” I said, only half jokingly, gesturing to my upper body. “I expect the guys I fuck to do the same.” It was my motto, but maybe Mac was right. Maybe I should reexamine my priorities. Two months is too long to go without getting laid. “Lighten up, Big D,” Matt said. “We’re having another party at the Pad this Saturday. You should come this time.” “Maybe,” I said. “All right, guys, enough chatting.” **** By Pad, Matt meant his, Jim, and Ryan’s apartment. And by party he meant sex party. I usually declined the invitations, but that Saturday I showed up, gaining a welcome from Matt and a sarcastic comment from Ryan. Ryan and Jim in particular had a knack for scoring straight and down-low guys, but these parties usually involved 40- or 50-something DILF-y gay dudes. Either a gay couple looking to get their anal itch scratched, or two separate bottoms, each looking to take on more than one top. I saw one such gay DILF on the couch, shirtless and wearing loose gym shorts. Mike was his name, a shorter compact dude with thinning hair and gray temples, and he got up and shook my hand. “Wow, the guys weren’t lying about you. You got an incredible bod, man.” His flattery melted my defenses some, and the twinkle in his eyes as he sized me up made me think I could enjoy pumping my load inside this man. We made small talk as we sat around, all five of the Dadfuckers Club and excited Mike. I started boning in anticipation, but we seemed to be waiting to start şişli travesti the festivities. “Is anyone else joining?” I asked. “Yeah. Steve,” Matt said. “He’s prepping and showering up. He’ll be out in a few.” “One of Jim’s fuckbuddies,” Ryan said. I heard the door open down the hall and the man who had to be Steve stepped in, a towel wrapped around his waist and his body still dewy-damp. “Thanks for waiting guys,” he said. I didn’t expect Steve to be the kind of guy I’d go for. He wasn’t the kind of guy I’d normally go for. Jim’s into Real Daddies, and Steve was real, all right. A 42 year old lawyer who had a killer smile but otherwise ordinary features. He stood about 5’11” and his frame was more beefy, with extra padding all over. Masculine but not in an over the top way. But whoa, I felt this instant attraction toward the man. Even if he wasn’t my normal type. Even if he was Jim’s fuckbud. Something about his expression, the friendliness of his smile, the masculine brow and jaw, the gray coming in on the temples of his dark-blond hair, and the sea blue eyes turned me on. “I’m Wes,” I said, getting up to greet him. “The guys call me Big D.” “That short for Big Dick?” Steve chuckled, shaking my hand and giving a look down. “It’s big enough, but both Jim and Mac are bigger, if you’re a size queen.” “I’m sure Big D’s got enough hanging to make me a happy man.” His smile was bright, and his happy-go-lucky attitude was infectious. “We starting guys?” I asked turning over to where my buds were sitting. “Go ahead,” Jim said. I could sense the guys’ surprise as I pulled Steve toward me in an embrace while I kissed him and ran my hands down his back and under his towel, which fell to the floor. I gripped his ass. Steve might not have a perfectly toned body but there was some real brawn in that ass. I massaged that butt while we made out and I maneuvered us toward an empty chair. “You feel like sucking my cock?” I asked. “For starters,” he said, and crouched down in front of me, starting to undo my jeans. I could tell Steve had a decent-sized piece, too, more thick than long, and definitely rock hard. As he fiddled with my underwear and pulled out my prick I looked over and saw that Mike had already gotten to work blowing Matt. Steve sucked me, and did a great job at it. Not top 3 BJs in my life but pretty damn good. Maybe more enthusiasm than technique. As he blew me, Mac got down and made moves to rim the guy. Mac loves rimming a dude. I sat down and the changed position allowed Mac to get into position. Steve seemed to be in bottom heaven, sucking cock and getting eaten out. I was feeling pretty fine myself. I didn’t want to unload in his mouth, though. I tapped his shoulder and eased him off my cock. “Easy buddy,” I said, then leaned over and grabbed some lube from the table next to me. Steve seemed wide-eyed as he watched me grease my bone. “Oh yeah you definitely got enough to make me a happy man,” he said, giving the inside of my thighs small kisses that turned me on even more. “Wanna climb on?” I asked. “Oh yeah,” he said, leaning up from his bent over position. “Thanks man,” he said to Mac and meeting my buddy in a quick kiss. “Maybe you can take seconds?” “Ha, sure,” Mac said, fisting his bone, and sitting down to watch us. Steve was experienced enough to take me easily, but he still felt snug around my prick as he sank down. We made out, unable to keep hands off each other. Maybe Jim was going to convert me to Real Daddies, I thought as I bore into man who was old enough to be my father. Steve’s body might be normal, but he was a strikingly handsome man, in a way that went straight to my nuts. On top of that the guy was just hungry. Needy even. He wanted my cock and his desire fueled mine. I pumped into him, insistently, taking charge of his hole. “God yeah, Big D,” Steve growled. “Fuck me, man. Fuck my daddy hole.” That’s another thing that turned me on about Steve. He wasn’t shy about the D word, like some older guys are. He was my daddy bottom and was A-OK with the way I and the other guys fetished his age. The man rode me like a pro, holding himself steady with hands on my chest or shoulders while I railed him. “Oh fuck, I’m gonna…” he announced and like that I was getting a mega daddy load sprayed onto my chest and heaving abs. It kept coming out, too, in spurts then dribbles. I don’t know if Steve normally carried that much jizz in his tanks but it was hot to see him pump it out for me. The sight had me ready to go. I held on tight and got off inside his slick hole, pumping a decent sized deposit way up inside him and powerfucking it in deeper. All the while Steve kissed me needily. He had a proud grin when he dismounted me. Proud for taking my cock like that, or proud for getting me off, I’m not sure. “You need to recover?” Mac asked, his voice clearly thick with horniness. He wanted a go now, and bad. Steve shook his legs a little and then got down on the floor, on his knees. “Nah, I’m good. I think your buddy left me real sloppy wet, though.” I let Mac have his fun and walked over toward the kitchen to get some water. Jim was pumping Mike from behind while Ryan got his cock sucked and Matt watched on. Ryan looked over at me. “You want your dick cleaned, Big D?” he asked. My dick was still half-hard and swaying, dripping with remnants of cum and covered in jizz and lube. I nodded down at his cocksucker. “He into that?” Ryan pulled out and pulled Matt’s chin up. “You want to clean off my friend’s cock? He just fucked Steve’s ass.” Mike grunted. “Sure man. Bring it on.” Ryan stepped aside and I stepped up, feeling Mike’s slutty mouth suck and lick me clean. “Oh man,” I groaned. “Never had a dude do that to you?” Ryan asked. “No,” I admitted. “Fuck, he’s really into it.” The sight tripped Jim’s wires and he growled loudly, getting one of his trademark rumbling orgasms. Ryan was already on his way behind Mike, ready to take over. And Matt was tapping me on the shoulder. “Dude, my turn.” His prick insistently hard and pointing straight up. Matt loved blowjobs, even more than the rest of us, and I think he wanted to nut down Mike’s throat. I smiled and stepped out of the way, my dick now erect once more. “Motherfuck!” Mac cried as he came inside Steve, his body hunched over the daddy as he ground his prick in deeper, trying to get every drop inside. I wondered why I didn’t come to these parties more. **** I got a call a couple days later, from Jim. “You made a real impression on Steve.” I wasn’t sure what Jim’s attitude would be. I figured he wasn’t too possessive or jealous, or he wouldn’t have brought Steve to the party. I replied. “I had fun with him.” “It sure looked that way,” he said. I could tell he was still surprised I went for a Real Daddy like Steve. “He wants to ask you on a date.” That caught me by surprise. “Would you mind?” I wanted to be respectful of Jim’s priority. “Not at all. I thought I’d check before giving him your number.” “I wasn’t sure if you guys were a thing.” “Nah. Besides, I’ve moved on to a divorced daddy from Staten Island I just met…. honest to god ex-NYFD fire chief,” he laughed. I whistled. “Bet you’re not sharing that one.” “Nosiree, keeping this one to myself. Besides, dude’s a little shy. I’m bringing Daddy out of his shell,” he chuckled lewdly. **** That Saturday night, after dinner with Steve and a stroll around the neighborhood, it felt like it was Daddy bringing me out of my shell. I collapsed back on the bed after pumping a second load into Steve’s beefy ass. It was like the guy was insatiable. The second time around I’d nailed him hard and he just egged me on. “I like it rough, Big D,” he had growled, and rough he got it. He rolled on his back as we uncoupled, a big goofy smile on his face. Cum dribbled from his thick prick. The dude had gotten off this time. “I’m fucking glad you put out on the first date,” I said, still catching my breath. “That was awesome.” “I’m not the romantic type,” he said, his voice mellow but deep. beylikdüzü travesti I leaned forward and kissed him, pushing my tongue into his mouth possessively. He groaned and melted into my arms. This guy liked being manhandled, and I liked manhandling him. “Well what would you say if I asked you on a second date?” I asked. “For sex, it’s a definite yes,” he replied. “But I’m not looking for anything serious, Wes. I just want to be clear.” I don’t know what I expected. I mean, we’d just had one date. I just know I wasn’t expecting to be turned down for anything by this guy. I was used to being cock of the walk. I was the player who told dudes I wasn’t looking for something serious. So yeah, my ego was bruised. “Yeah, I’m not looking for anything serious either,” I replied. Maybe I convinced myself, too. **** It was our third fuck date when Steve brought up the idea of hiring me on as a trainer. I’d just railed him doggy style on the rug of his apartment and brought us to a simultaneous orgasm. Steve would have to deal with the rug burn on the knees and elbows. “Oh fuck,” the man said as he stood up and rubbed his elbow. “You’re a goddamn stud,” he growled. “I love it.” He went over to the kitchen area and got us each a bottled water. He tossed me mine with a wink, “I think this should replenish the liquids you shot in me.” I laughed. “Maybe. You got a few day’s worth of cum.” My prick hung heavy as I gulped the water gratefully. Steve pulled on some lounge pants and tossed me some briefs. We sat on the couch, grinning at each other. “So, I’ve been thinking it’s time for me to get in shape.” “Yeah?” I asked. “What’s motivating you?” Steve was the one guy I wasn’t judgmental around. “I dunno, maybe being banged by a male model,” he laughed. “Seriously, I was taking a look around your website. I think the DILF Workout is just what I need. Overdue, really.” “I, uh, don’t fuck my clients,” I replied. “We don’t have to keep fucking,” he said, matter of factly. “The sex is hot, Wes, but honestly I think my fitness is a priority.” I felt crushed, but I didn’t let on. Stupid pride, I suppose. “Yeah, if you want. I gotta warn you, I’m not cheap.” Steve laughed. “I didn’t expect you would be.” **** Steve started up with me the next week. We started with an evaluation and consultation session. I went over the basic DILF Workout plans and asked him which one he was interested in. He looked at me earnestly. “I suppose the Basic DILF would be easiest to attain for a guy like me, but I really want to challenge myself. I could use your advice. Which do you think would make me hotter: the Fit DILF or Muscle DILF?” I demurred. “Come on, Steve, I told you we can’t mix business and sex.” “Just your professional opinion, Wes. You must appraise guys day in, day out. Which would be better for me?” The idea this guy was putting his body in my hands, letting me shape him to what I desired, gave me an erection. I relented. “Well… either would be good, but I think you’d be super hot as a Muscle DILF. If you got that dedication,” I added. “I have it,” Steve replied quickly. “I’m serious about this.” **** He was too. I don’t think I’ve seen a client work as hard as he did. He hired me for three sessions and a week, and I wrote up additional workout to do for two other days, along with a strict nutritional plan. I could tell he followed it, too, and did his homework with both diet and cardio. The results were immediate even if the more dramatic ones were yet to come. Steve had the musculature that responded to the weight training and within a month he was improving his tone and gaining size. Within three months, he was slimming down. By month six, he was already a Classic DILF and on his way to Fit DILF. I could see the thrill in Steve’s face. He hit the workouts harder, if that was possible, with a smile on his face each time we met for a session. It put a smile on mine too. “I gotta thank you, Wes,” he said as he pushed through a set of cable flys. “I’ve been fucking cleaning up on Grindr. I got this new bod to thank for it, too.” OK, I was jealous, but I was glad to see Steve happy with his results. And I knew sex was a great motivator for my clients. “Glad to hear, man,” I lied. I had my occasional hookups and visits to the Pad, but Steve was getting more action than me. “You’ll probably be getting a couple of calls from my coworkers too. I think they want to get in on the DILF Workout.” “I’m pretty busy, but we’ll see. I can always use the extra cash.” “I bet,” he said. “I don’t want to say this, but you could probably raise your rates, Wes.” “I’m thinking about it,” I admitted. “For new clients at least. You’d be grandfathered in.” “Worth every penny,” he said as we went over and I put him through stability push ups. **** It was a little hard keeping my cool, seeing Steve three times a week in the gym. I actually jerked off a few times thinking about bending him over and screwing him. After that, I decided I needed to get laid more. I made myself a regular at the Pad parties and hung out with the guys more. I was arranging hookups four, five times a week. I found myself less picky. I was no longer holding out for the perfect guy, but eager to hook up with a hot daddy looking for action. I found plenty, and it was great. Blue collar studs, white collar guys, suit and tie execs, a teacher, an engineer, and best of all the dudes who were more or less anonymous. Locals, tourists… it was my winter of fucking around. I was getting my rocks off, which helped me pine less for Steve. It also gave me an opportunity to practice on my topping technique. I was typically as a selfish top, loving to pump and dump. But I experimented paying more attention to my bottom daddy, coaxing a load or two out of him before I allowed my own release. I embraced my athleticism for both strength and endurance, and my bottoms seemed to love that. Most of them, anyway. You can’t win them all. Whether I admitted it or not, I had Steve to thank for the way I approached men now. Confident but a little less cocky. Thankful when a daddy bent over or played along with my sex talk or fantasy. I did feel lonely and increasingly wished I had a boyfriend. Not that the sex connections weren’t great, and I’d gone on a few dates, but nothing had clicked for anything more long term. Maybe romance was on my mind when I was having my Wednesday morning workout with Mac. Matt was traveling for work, so it was just Mac working in with me. “So…” I asked between sets, “how’s things going with your boss?” “My ex-boss,” he corrected. “Your ex-boss,” I conceded. “You ever feel this crazy chemistry with a guy?” he asked. “Yeah,” I said, thinking of Steve. Mac nodded. “It’s like that with Kevin. We can’t keep apart from each other.” He lowered his voice a little. “Dude, we’re having sex like three times a week and all I can think about the other four days is when I’m gonna bone him again.” “Sounds pretty serious.” Mac looked a little wistful. “There’s the marriage thing and the daughter in high school. I mean, it’s some kind of fucked up. Kev’s talked about divorce, and I’d feel like a class-A heel being a homewrecker like that. But…” “But what?” “I don’t know. I’m head over heels for the guy. Never felt like this before. I can’t help myself, D.” “It’s not stopping you from banging other dudes,” I said, thinking back to the last Pad Party. Mac was even the one who brought a silver-haired Chelsea DILF and had spent the evening going back and forth between him and two other bottom holes. Mac shook his head. “No, not unless we’re able to date someday, for real. But if we ever did, I dunno D, I’d drop the other guys in a heartbeat. God’s truth.” He reracked the weights for the next set. “Here I am blabbing like a chick… What about you, Big D? Anyone in your life these days?” “Nah,” I said. “I wouldn’t mind finding someone serious. I gotta get out there.” **** By summer Steve was a Fit DILF. I’d amped up the cardio and focused more on cutting. This was harder istanbul travesti work for him, since he was naturally more of an endomorph. I thought he’d balk, actually, and it was the first time I saw him push back against my instructions or skip an at-home workout. But I got in my bad-cop trainer mode and gave him a tough talk one day instead of finishing a workout. He seemed chastened and more than a little upset at my disapproval. But it worked. Over the next few weeks he was back with the program, giving it his all. The trick to being a good trainer is knowing when to be stern and when to be encouraging. Steve really hit one of our workouts hard, going extra at the core work he hated doing. Afterward, I told him I was super impressed by his progress. “Yeah, Wes?” he beamed. “Sure thing, man, you’ve been making incredible gains. You gotta see it, right? You’re gonna have the perfect beach bod by next month, no problem.” “I feel I’m almost there. To Fit DILF at least,” he said. I held my fingers millimeters apart. “This close, Steve.” That fueled his fire. For the next month he went at it, in the gym and out. He told me the hardest part was avoiding alcohol, but he’d done that, too. “How you feeling?” I asked him one day after a leg day. “Good,” he said. “How am I looking?” he asked. “Awesome,” I encouraged. Then, “Take your shirt off. Let’s see.” The gym was quiet at that hour and I didn’t think the corporate bros in there then would mind. Steve complied and I saw an incredible ripped DILF bod. Shredded, toned, not a trace of body fat. “I’ll call that Fit DILF Plus. Amazing, man.” That made Steve smile real big. “Yeah? Am I hot, Wes?” Maybe he was expecting another lecture about separating workouts and sex. At that point I couldn’t care about professionalism, though. “Fuck yeah, you’re smoking hot, Steve. I’d tap that.” He grinned and flexed for me and turned around, showing off. I wished his gym shorts showed off his glutes more but other than that I had no complaints. And I’m a picky guy with exacting standards. “For real, Big D?” It was the first time he’d used my nickname in a while. His eyes looked into mine, with no small amount of expectation. “Fuck yeah,” I said, feeling my cock plump up. “If I didn’t have another client next, I’d take you home now.” “I’d like that,” he said. I took a deep breath and pinched my crotch to try to fit the hardon I was sporting. “Fuck man, I shouldn’t be doing this.” He held his shirt and almost reluctantly put it back on. “Doing what?” he asked, innocently. “Flirting with you. Wanting you,” I practically barked. “What the fuck?” he asked, though with his trademark smile. “Rules are made to be broken right?” He could see the conflicted feelings in my face and nodded. “All right, I’ll let you get ready for your next client.” I bit my lip as he walked toward the locker room. **** A trainer’s schedule is early. I have a bunch of appointments early morning and three days a week come back for after-work sessions. Normally, I come home, nap, have a couple of small high-protein meals, then head back downtown. That day I couldn’t nap. I tossed around, trying to sleep, before I pulled out my phone. I sent Steve a text. “Been thinking about what it would be like to break my rule.” “I think you should.” Was the reply. Fuck, I got hard then and there. “Wanna help me?” “When are you free?” “Not till 8. damnit.” I was starting to regret all the new clients I’d taken on. “Come by my place after.” “Can’t wait.” When I got to Steve’s that evening I was a little tired from the long day, but that didn’t affect my libido in the least. I was wearing my workout outfit and was trying to hide my boner all the way there. Steve ushered me in and it took me a second to realize he was wearing only a jockstrap. “I thought you could do a fuller evaluation than you did in the gym,” he smiled. We met, lips to lips, my arms circling around his mostly nude body. It was still damp from the shower but warm to my touch. It had been a year since we’d had sex and it was the same Steve, but different now. His body compact and firm and the muscles ripped in definition. “You like the new Steve?” he asked. Reading my mind, or maybe just speaking his. “Fuck yeah,” I growled, stepping back. “Show off that daddy bod… fucking Fit DILF Plus. You did it man.” I massaged my erection as Steve showed off for me, posing flexing and letting me see that hard muscle ass. He reached behind and pulled apart his cheeks. His hole was shaved smooth. “You want in this daddy ass, Big D?” “Fuck yeah,” I said. “What are you waiting for?” he asked. “Daddy’s horny for it.” I pulled down my workout pants and fisted my bone. “You got some lube?” “In the bathroom,” he said. “Follow me.” I wondered why he wouldn’t have any in the bedroom, but then as we stepped into the master bath, he pulled out some lubricant and then leaned over, resting his hands on the counter and I realized. He wanted to fuck in front of the mirror. I kicked off my shoes and stripped. Steve watched me in the mirror. “Goddamn stud, fucking fitness model,” he said, almost to himself. I greased my hardon and stepped behind him. I took a minute to cup his buns, feeling their hardness, then run my hands up and down his back. “Nice,” I said. “You like that bod, Big D?” Steve’s voice was deep and raspy. “So hot,” I said and like that I was pushing into him. I expected a grunt or a sigh at entry but Steve just leaned forward, still and ready for me, his eyes locked on mine while I pushed inside his hole. It was everything I remembered and more. Accommodating yet snug friction around my dick. I fucked in now, harder. “You made this body, Wes,” the man grunted. I could tell he had an erection in the pouch of his jock but he wasn’t making any move for self-stimulation. This was all about my dick and his hole. “Fuck, I did,” I grunted as I now started pounding harder. Steve liked it rough, and I liked giving it to him like this. I gripped his waist for leverage and thrust hard. My eyes were torn between taking in all of his amazing body and meeting his gaze in the mirror. “Made you in to a DILF.” “You’re gonna make me into a Muscle DILF too, aren’t you?” It was an idea I’d nurtured in the back of my mind. Me molding Steve to my desire. That he said it aloud made me horny as fuck. I fucked the guy harder. “Goddamn right. Making a Muscle DILF for my pleasure. To fuck when I want to. Is that what you want Steve?” Thankfully the man was on the same wavelength. “I want what you want, Big D.” It was the craziest, most submissive thing I’d ever heard and it sent cum shooting straight from my balls and right into Steve’s guts. “Unggh!” I cried, unable to use language anymore as pleasure and lightheadedness overcame me. Steve gripped his jock pouched and tugged at the bone through the fabric. His own body heaved as he spurted his seed into and through the jock material. “I don’t want to pull out,” I said as I leaned against his strong back. He could feel my breathing and heart beat and I could feel his. “Then don’t,” Steve said. I kissed the back of his neck then leaned back up a little so I could look at him in the mirror. “I guess I won’t be charging you for training from now on,” I joked. “Why, are we dating?” he asked, looking at me in a sly challenge, that bright Steve smile coming back. “Yeah, we are. I want this ass regular. Gotta problem with that?” “No, sir,” Steve grinned. “It was hot doing it in front of the mirror,” I said. “I like seeing my new bod. But more than that I like seeing you like my new bod.” I pushed in, gently but my dick rock hard. “I want to fuck you again, Steve,” I whispered. “Now.” “Please,” he said. I fucked, not as hard this time. The change of pace felt good. “It’s gonna take me longer to come this time,” I warned. I ran my hands along his flank and down over his torso. I wanted this to be real good for him, too. “Daddy’s got no place to go,” Steve said. “Fucking use my hole, man.” I shifted gears and started railing his ass once more. It was an intensely sexual and emotional moment for me. But as much as I was loving the moment and enjoying that second fuck, my mind was already planning. Imagining transforming this man further. Making Steve Barnett into the Muscle DILF of my dreams.

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