I suppose I’m looking for a little revenge here, too. Fucking my son’s ex-boyfriend—especially so soon after Lance’s betrayal—is surely a terrible idea. Which is precisely why I didn’t take advantage of him in the taxi. He was drunk and angry and the hottest thing I’ve seen in a long time.
I should be the grownup who makes the same sensible decision tonight.
But I’m not a saint and there’s only so much resistance I can put up, especially with him here, naked, sober, and so very willing. On his back like this, his legs spread, the piercings lining his cock shiny with the fluid he’s leaking.
Still, there’s a power differential between us and I’d have to be a monster not to be aware of it. There’s the difference in our ages, for one thing. And in our social and economic status. I have a highly successful career and a comfortable lifestyle. Silas graduated from college less than a year ago and has been living with my son in a condo bought with Lance’s trust fund.
I’m not worried about my reputation, exactly. Silas is young enough to be my son, yes, but he is an adult. Most people in my professional life know I’m gay. I’m the partner liaison to my firm’s LGBTQ affinity group. I don’t bring dates to firm functions, but that’s because I don’t have serious relationships. The twinks I hook up with on Grindr are always one night only.
Silas is exactly my type—young, slim, and pretty, with a generous mouth that’s currently red-bitten and wet from his tongue licking his lips. The multiple piercings are the icing on the cake. My mouth is already watering at the thought of sucking that long, beautifully decorated cock.
His hands are clenching and unclenching at his sides and his cock is dripping with precome. I’ve spent the last couple of years suppressing my attraction to Silas and I never expected to have him. There’s nothing I’ll deny him now. If he’s willing, I’ll have him every way I can think of until he’s ready to move on.
I put all thoughts of my inconsiderate son aside and focus on Silas. “You’re so gorgeous, baby boy,” I tell him. I adjust my erection under my lounge pants and Silas’s eyes go to my crotch.
“I’m feeling a little underdressed here,” he says. His hand drifts down to his cock and idly toys with the barbells of his ladder piercing. He’s hairless around his cock and balls, clean and smooth everywhere, and his flat stomach quivers as he plays with himself. “I want to see you, too,” he says, a little shyly. It’s a tantalizing combination, that hint of shyness while he’s spread out naked on my sofa, touching himself and looking at me with flushed cheeks and a puffy, pouting mouth.
“Soon,” I promise.
I take Silas’s hand off his cock and push both arms over his head. They dangle over the arm of the sofa, which makes his chest arch and his nipples bud tall and proud. I’ll make him come playing with them again later, but I want his cock and I want it now.
I give his cock a long, firm stroke from root to tip, and then I wrap my fingers around the base, tilt it to the angle I want, and bend my head to finally get my mouth on it.
Silas’s hips jerk up as soon as my lips touch the head of his dick and I press my other hand down on his hip. “Do I need to tie you down to keep you still?”
“Sorry, Daddy.” He’s panting heavily and I will most certainly be tying him down later, just for the pleasure of watching his lithe, young body squirm in my restraints. “I’ll be good.”
“Can you?” Because I’m hovering just above his cock and his hips are still making tiny thrusts up, trying to meet his dick with my lips. I’m not sure he even knows he’s doing it.
A bead of fluid wells up around the pearl protruding from his slit. I lick it from his tip and Silas moans. His stomach is quivering, his thighs are shaking, and his hands are clenched around the arm of the sofa behind his head. “Please,” he whimpers. “Please, Daddy. Please suck me.”
“That’s my good boy,” I praise him. “Ask for what you want and Daddy will give it to you.”
I dip my head and take Silas’s cock into my mouth. Silas groans loud and long and I think he’s going to come immediately, but he holds himself back somehow. I stay still for a moment, loving the weight of him filling my mouth, getting used to the feel of his piercings on my tongue. The pearl at the tip nudges the back of my throat.
I peer up Silas’s body and he’s staring down at me sucking him. “God, that’s so hot,” he whispers.
I hollow my cheeks and suck as I slowly draw up his length. I’m extra careful with my teeth and the bump of each barbell as my bottom lip passes over them makes Silas jolt every time.
He’s looking down at me and I keep looking at him. Up the length of his body, his quivering stomach, his heaving chest. He’s beautiful, this boy, and I’m torn between making him come as fast as I can and torturing him with how long and slow I can make it.
I settle on a steady sucking rhythm, swirling my tongue around the beads in his slit and under the head of his cock, then a side-to-side sweeping lick at each barbell in the ladder. I take more each time I suck him down, until my nose is pressed against the smooth bare skin at the base and the head of his cock is in my throat.
That’s when he comes, with me swallowing around him. His cock jerks in my mouth, but his hips do not, even if every muscle in his legs and torso is strained to the breaking point with the effort to keep still.
To obey, like the good boy I asked him to be.
I let him ride out his orgasm, holding him in my mouth until he stops quivering and starts to soften. Then I kneel up, and pull my cock out of my pants. It’s thicker than Silas’s and probably shorter, and Silas lurches up and scrambles around so that he’s on his hands and knees, his mouth already open and drooling for my cock.
“That’s it, boy.” I grab him by the hair at the back of his head and stuff my cock into his mouth. “Take your Daddy’s cock like a good boy.”
I don’t give him time to adjust, just thrust as deep as I can into his mouth, and tighten my fingers in his hair. His eyes roll to the back of his head, then slip closed, and for Christ’s sake, I knew—just knew—that he would be perfect.
His full lips are clamped around my cock and his tongue is soft, his jaw relaxed. I set up a punishing rhythm of thrusts, fucking his face as hard as I dare. Tears start slipping down his cheeks, but he makes no move to get away or stop me. His mouth is wet and hot and I can feel the give at the back of his throat.
“Fuck, boy, do you even have a gag reflex?”
His eyebrows twitch upwards and he blinks his tear-filled eyes open, looking up at me. He can’t speak because my cock is halfway down his throat, or shake his head because I’m holding it immobile with my hand tangled tight in his hair, but his eyes shine up at me with no small amount of pride.
