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CONNOR

Things were never the same after Mom caught us.

It wasn’t just Graham’s life that blew up. All of us were shattered.

Mom filed for divorce immediately, putting Graham out on the street without offering up a penny of her assets.

I tried pleading with her, telling her that it wasn’t his fault, it was mine, I seduced him.

She was done with me, too.

“I’ll pay for the rest of your tuition,” she’d said coldly. “Once you graduate, you’re on your own.”

I could tell she meant it. She’d never looked at me the way she did that day—like I was a snake, something to be feared and despised.

I didn’t come home anymore after that. I finished out the last year of college, spending holiday breaks in my dorm like fucking Harry Potter or something. Christmas, New Year’s, my birthday—all of them went by without a call or a card from Mom.

My Aunt told me that she started seeing a new guy. Last I heard, they were engaged. Mom didn’t invite me around, for obvious reasons.

I left Graham alone, too ashamed of what I’d done to reach out to him. I didn’t know anything about what happened to him after Mom left him. I hoped he was okay. He was a hard worker; I was sure he would land on his feet.

Or at least I hoped, if only to assuage my guilt.

When I graduated, I received a letter from the trust fund attorney informing me that I would not, in fact, be receiving the money my grandparents had allocated for me. Apparently, my mother had contacted them and convinced them to rescind it.

I was furious.

But worse than that, I was resigned.

Because I knew I deserved it.

I’d been stupidly banking on my trust fund, so I hadn’t done much to find a job after college. With nowhere to live and no money to tide me over, I ended up taking a gig waiting tables, something I had never before done in my life and, until now, could not believe I ever would do.

I sucked at it.

“Pick up the pace, Connor!” my manager yelled at me. It was a few months into the gig, and I was still struggling like a newbie. “You’ve got three tables that need refills, and table seven’s food is sitting here getting cold.”

I was dripping sweat in this stifling uniform, trying to balance plates like everyone else seemed to be able to do, but was too scared to carry more than two at a time for fear of dropping everything and making an even bigger fool of myself.

At the end of each night, I went home exhausted with barely any tips, retreating to the cordoned-off section of the living room in the three-bedroom apartment I shared with four roommates.

Even at 2 am, the music was always blaring, and party drugs were passed around like candy.

A year ago, I’d have been partaking more than any of them.

Now I just wanted to sleep and block out the noise so I could get a few hours of sleep before my opening shift the next morning.

I was like a zombie at work the next day. I couldn’t understand how people managed this—working eight hours a day, five days a week, doing physical labor that left you too tired after your shift to do much more than collapse on the couch in front of the TV.

Graham never seemed depleted by it, in the short time I’d known him. I’d thought he was such a hillbilly, having to work with his hands in a blue-collar job. Now I had a new appreciation for the value of a hard day’s work.

By the time I left the restaurant in the midafternoon, I was wiped.

I decided to walk home, even though it was sweltering, because I couldn’t afford an Uber and I still hadn’t worked out how to get a bus pass.

A few blocks in, I passed a large construction site. The sound of jackhammers blared through the fence, and a cloud of dust blew out through the bottom, covering my work pants and shoes with dirt.

Fantastic.

As I walked past an open section of the fence, I paused.

Standing a few feet away, in a neon orange vest, was Graham.

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CONNOR

Graham’s cock slipped out of me as he jumped back. The last few jets of his seed showered my lower back, spraying warm droplets of jizz across my skin.

“Fuck,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “Fucking fuck.”

I felt my own pulse race as the figure at the door stared at the two of us, the smell of sex hanging in the air like a smoking gun.

For a moment, none of us said anything.

Then Steve erupted.

“How fucking dare you do this to Gail?” he seethed. “I always knew you were a douchebag. But this? It’s real fucking low, man.”

I pulled my pants up, tucking my hardon inside my waistband.

“It’s not what it looks like, Steve.”

“Then what is it, Connor? Because it looks to me like you’re cheating on Gail with your stepdad.”

Graham winced. He had zipped up his own erection, and his still-leaking cock left a small wet patch in his jeans.

“Please,” Graham said, his voice choppy. “You can’t tell my wife.”

Steve looked at Graham in disgust. “What is wrong with you, man? Connor, I get. He’s a piece of shit rich kid who thinks he’s entitled to whatever he wants. But how can you screw over your lady with her own son? It’s fucking evil.”

Graham just hung his head in shame.

I glared at Steve. “Shut up, dude. You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, okay?”

Steve’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You’re gonna tell me to shut up? After what I just saw?” He huffed. “I oughta go out there and–”

“You’re not gonna do anything,” I said smoothly. “You’re gonna go out there and say nothing. Graham and I are gonna clean up, we’re gonna join Gail and my mom for shitty Mexican food, and then we’re gonna go home.”

“And what makes you think I’m not gonna say anything to Gail?”

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GRAHAM

My heart slammed into my chest, then seemed to climb into my throat as I flew off the bed. My foot caught the twisted bedspread, sending me flying forward headfirst toward the bathroom.

Luckily the door was already open.

I skidded across the cold bathroom tiles and slammed shoulder-first into the shower screen. Tempered glass shuddered beneath the impact, the metallic rattle echoing around the bathroom.

For a second, I couldn’t hear anything except my own pulse hammering in my ears.

Jesus Christ.

Had she heard that?

I stood frozen, one hand gripping the edge of the shower screen while I fought to breathe through the panic. Every muscle in my body trembled as adrenaline flooded through me, refusing to let me think straight. Sweat prickled across my back despite the cool air. My mouth had gone dry enough that swallowing hurt.

Sarah’s voice was just outside the bedroom.

Too fucking close.

I couldn’t tell if she was in the hallway, or already standing outside the bedroom door. My heartbeat drowned out everything else, turning every muffled sound into something far more terrifying than it probably was.

I slowly leaned toward the bathroom doorway.

Connor hadn’t moved.

He was still lying face down on the bed, ass in the air, as though we hadn’t just heard her come into the house.

What the fuck was wrong with him?

My fingers wrapped around the bathroom door, ready to slam it shut if I saw so much as a shadow cross the bedroom.

I wasn’t sure if the voice drifted closer.

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CONNOR

“You want it? Then open your mouth and take it.”

Graham’s dickhead slid across my lips, smearing precum like lip gloss.

Even after his shower, I could smell his balls and the bitter, basic scent of his precum. It was a little overpowering and knocked me slightly off-kilter.

Graham had finally given in to my advances like I wanted.

So why did I suddenly feel so nervous?

He gripped my hair tightly and yanked my head back a little. “Are you gonna keep being a little tease? Or you gonna suck your stepdad’s cock?”

I made eye contact with him, my heart racing at the sight of his damp, hairy torso. I’d been around naked guys my age before, but never someone like him. Never someone older, rugged, hairy. With muscles they’d earned through hard work, not at the gym, and a belly that came with age and still carried abs underneath.

I slowly opened my mouth, just an inch.

That was all the encouragement he needed. He pushed his dick past my lips, coating my tongue in precum as he slid inside my mouth.

I expected him to go slowly, but he kept pushing until he hit the back of my throat. I gagged.

I tried to push back, but he held me firmly against his cock.

“Breathe through your nose,” he commanded. “And relax your throat.”

I did as he said, though tears were coming to my eyes. For a second, the feeling of his dickhead pressed against my uvula made me think I was going to throw up. But I took a few deep breaths through my nose, and as I did, his dick slid deeper into my throat.

“That’s it,” he said soothingly. “You’re doing so good.”

I felt a weird rush of pride at that. I’d never cared what Graham thought of me before—he was a hillbilly whose opinion wasn’t worth the time it’d take for me to hear it—but to hear him complimenting my first blowjob made me feel good nonetheless.

Still, I needed to focus on drawing this out. I needed Mom to catch us, and if he came too soon, it’d all be for nothing.

“Take a deep breath,” he said, pulling his dick out just enough for me to breathe. “I’m gonna fuck your face, all right?”

I wanted to say no, but at the same time, I was curious what that might feel like. So I took a deep breath and braced myself against his thighs.

He grabbed the sides of my head, then slammed his dick in to the root.

I could feel his dickhead pressing against my throat, and if I could see myself from this position, I’m sure there would have been a visible bulge. He pulled his hips back and slammed in a couple more times, his balls knocking against my chin with a loud slapping sound.

It felt strange, feeling his dickhead slide in and out of the entrance to my esophagus. I could picture it rubbing up against the sides of my throat, and the sounds Graham was making let me know just how good it felt.

“You’re doing so good, Connor,” he said as he humped my face. “So good at sucking your stepdad’s cock. Ohhhh, my little cocksucker…”

I should have told him to go fuck himself. Who did he think he was, calling me a cocksucker? I’d fucked enough pussy over the years to qualify as pretty firmly in the straight camp.

Instead, I grabbed his ass, pulling him in deeper to my throat as I began to take over sucking his dick.

He let go of my head, content to give me the reins. His head tilted back, eyes closed, and a smile on his face as he gave in to the blowjob.

I relaxed my throat, like he’d told me, bobbing up and down on his cock and making sure I went all the way down. His pubes tickled my nose, but the taste of his foreskin was making me seriously hard. I reached down and started stroking myself.

I lost track of how long I’d been blowing him. I’d thought my jaw would get sore, but I was too invested in exploring what sucking a dick was like to notice any discomfort.

Graham’s cock was pretty beautiful, and more than once, I took it out of my mouth to stroke it for a little bit as I studied the long, veiny shaft.

I’d never been with an uncut guy before, and the way his foreskin slid over the head was fascinating. Graham would let out a low, guttural moan as the skin pulled over the head, then slowly retracted, rubbing against the ridge of his dickhead, and I’m sure making him feel fucking fantastic.

When I was blowing him, a couple of times I would stroke the base of his shaft with his dickhead in my mouth, making the foreskin slide back and forth across my tongue. He moaned extra loud then, massaging my scalp and bucking his hips as he leaked down my throat. I had the vague thought that this was probably the only time I’d actually get to explore sucking his dick, if Mom did catch us, so I’d better make the most of it before she kicked him to the curb.

It got to the point where I was so into sucking Graham’s dick that, when he pulled it out of me, I actually whined.

I looked up at him, pouting.

He chuckled. “Turn over.”

I went pale when I realized what he wanted.

I looked down at his cock, which was wet with my saliva and hanging there threateningly.

He hooked his hands under my shoulders and flipped me around on the bed.

“Wait,” I said as I felt his hands on my cheeks.

He inhaled sharply as he spread them. “Fuck.”

I felt his thumb brush up against my asshole. The feeling was so sensitive that it made me shiver.

“Graham,” I said quickly, “I… I don’t know if I’m ready for this.”

His cock was already sliding up my taint, dripping precum across my skin. I could feel his foreskin sliding between my cheeks, and when it pressed against my hole, I cried out in pleasure.

“I’ll go slow,” was all he said.

“No, but…”

He was already pushing in.

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GRAHAM

“Okay honey, see you later,” I called down the stairs.

“Don’t forget what’s in the fridge,” she called back. Moments later, the door closed, then I heard a key in the door.

I screwed the final one into the cupboard, then stood back, holding the drill, catching my breath. But I also admired my handiwork. I tested the door, it opened and closed smoothly, evenly, and sealed correctly.

I grabbed the vacuum, quickly cleaned up my mess, put all the tools out in the hallway, and closed the guest room door.

He would be staying this weekend.

As I looked around the room one last time, I found myself remembering the last visit and immediately felt stupid for it. I’d caught him watching me while I was fixing the fence out back, his eyes following me every time I moved. When I’d glanced over, he’d looked away so quickly that I’d almost laughed at myself for noticing.

Shaking my head, I picked up the toolbox and headed downstairs. I was reading far too much into a perfectly ordinary moment.

At least, that’s what I’d told myself.

Out in the shed, I stood back, flexing my knuckles, admiring how neat and tidy it all was.

I heard a car pull up.

He can’t be here already?

Sarah’s garden looked like something out of a magazine. Color spread along both sides of the path leading back to the house, the hanging baskets I’d put up overflowing with flowers she’d carefully chosen herself. Little ornaments sat tucked between the plants, and the birdbath was already drawing sparrows and finches despite being barely six months old. There was not a weed in sight, nor a leaf out of place.

The Range Rover Sport engine turned off, I heard crackling as the engine began cooling, while inside some weird shit blared on the speakers.

I’d never understood why a twenty-one-year-old needed a vehicle that looked capable of crossing the Sahara.

One of Connor’s Gucci loafers appeared first, followed by the rest of him. White shorts, a blue polo shirt, Randolph Engineering aviators. He looked exactly like a kid who’d never had to check the price tag before buying something.

He nodded, like I was the hired help.

“Hi Graham, how are you?” his voice smooth, casual, perpetually bored.

“Good thanks Connor, how about you?”

He pushed the door closed, taking one step toward me, then looking behind me. “I’m great. Working today?”

“No. Sarah wanted a few things done before you got here.”

Connor’s lips twitched, then a small smile formed. “Of course.”

“Your mother will be back later, she’s gone to get her nails and hair done. I wasn’t expecting you here so early. There’s plenty in the fridge, if you’re hungry.”

He walked to the back of the car, lifted the trunk, then grabbed his bag.

I walked up past the bed of flowers to the front door, opening it and holding it open for him.

“You been working out, Graham?”

I kept my head down as I walked ahead of him, moving into the kitchen.

I pulled out a soda, then held one out. “No, no, not really. Just my job.”

He dropped his bag by the counter, pulling his sunglasses off, blue eyes exactly like his mother’s, pale enough that they almost looked grey in the kitchen light.

Then he ran a hand through his slightly curly blonde hair as he moved to the kitchen island, pulling out a tall seat.

He reached out, and I passed him a soda, closing the fridge to sip one of mine.

Connor’s eyes lingered for a moment before he nodded.

“Must be doing something.”

I looked away first. The comment was harmless enough, but there was something about the way he’d said it that got under my skin.

I suddenly became aware that we were alone in the house.

“Gail’s not with you this weekend?” I stared past him into the garden, preferring the mix of colors, the order of things outside.

“Gail? Oh no,” he gave a small laugh, like the suggestion was ridiculous, “she’s studying for her finals.”

I swallowed a third of the can, then wiped my mouth. “Well, make yourself at home. I’ve got some chores I want to finish,” I said, moving away from the kitchen toward the back of the house.

“Happy to help,” he called out, but I just lifted a hand to wave him off.

I moved to the laundry, standing back to assess what she’d asked for. I leaned against the washer, arms folded, more distracted than I wanted.

A few minutes later, Connor appeared in the doorway.

“Got nothing else to do,” he said.

I hadn’t heard him approach.

He leaned against the doorway, watching me with that same unreadable expression he’d worn out by the fence.

“Need a hand?”

I kept my eyes on the cupboards, trying to focus. “I’m okay, thanks for the offer. It’s a one man job.”

“Still doing the cabinetry?” he asked me.

“Carpentry, among other things,” I said, thinking I’d start by pulling the doors off, then unscrew the cabinets off the wall.

“Must be nice,” he said, leaning against the doorframe.

I looked up once, caught him staring. I had this weird feeling it was at my ass.

“Yes, riveting,” I said, throwing him a smile, only then realizing he was blocking the doorway.

Which was unfortunate, because the tools I’d just spent ten minutes putting away were suddenly outside again.

I watched him adjust himself out of the corner of my eye, and my eyes darted there quickly, saw him notice it, but I forced myself to look away.

This was no longer my imagination. There was definitely something about her boy that wasn’t quite right.

I turned to him, ready to ask him to move out of the way, but paused, my breath catching.

Connor’s little smile wasn’t so small anymore.

He stared, then his eyes moved down, studying me slowly, while I felt my heartrate double.

The white shorts appeared tighter. His hand moved down again, adjusting, slowly squeezing it. When his hand came away, it was impossible to dismiss the bulging outline in his shorts as anything else.

There was no back door to the laundry, I turned back to the cupboards, sweat beading on my forehead, my lungs tightening, with my pulse pounding in my ears.

Connor stepped forward, even as I stared at the cupboards, not seeing them, wishing he’d disappear, a foot closer to me, both hands around his crotch.

I didn’t look, tried swallowing.

“Er… Connor,” I began, with no idea what I intended to say.

“...shhhh… nobody will know,” he said, his voice lower, reminding me that we were alone in the house.

I tried swallowing. I turned to him, my fists clenching, throat tightening, but ready to barrel him out of the way.

But his hands were quick, on my waist, pushing me backward, then they were on my bulge. I tried to shift away, but he held tight, gripping my cock.

Then my body failed me.

I faced the wall, Connor reaching around me, his body pushing behind me, I could feel his hard cock pushing through the fabric into my butt.

My cock stirred, rose to the occasion like it misunderstood what was happening.

“It’s okay,” he said, his voice strangely soothing, right next to my ear, the warmth of his breath on my neck and in my ear adding to my sudden reaction.

Connor squeezed my bulge.

“Damn… that’s big,” he near-whispered, fingers squeezing it, gently stroking me through my own shorts.

My cock throbbed from the attention. It didn’t care whose.

But I did exhale. When his fingers gripped, and I felt his palm on my cock, and his body pressed into mine, I closed my eyes, and stood rigid.

Connor’s fingers unbuttoned me, while my mind screamed for him to stop. Even as he pulled my zip down, and the weight of my phone pulled them all the way down, my mouth was caught in that place between refusal and acceptance.

His hand slid into the waistband, and suddenly that warm hand gripped the flesh of my cock and I inhaled sharply. He must have undone his own shorts, because then I felt less fabric, then my underpants came down, and his, and the next thing I felt was his bare cock pushing into my butt cheek.

He jerked me off. Each time his hand moved down to my balls, I’d try and inhale. Then he’d move up, squeezing my shaft, and my breath would catch.

Connor turned me, holding my hips with more force than I thought he was capable of, dropping to his knees, burying his face in my bush, then inhaling loudly, like the air down there was pure.

My back hit the wall, my eyes darted around the room, while my cock throbbed against his face.

I’d gone from praying for her to return early, to hoping she didn’t come back at all.

CONNOR

Graham’s balls smelled like salt-and-vinegar chips.

Not in a gross way. Kind of in a hot way, to be honest.

He looked so funny right now, braced against the wall, looking around frantically as if Mom might come back any moment. Like he didn’t want what was happening.

He should have told his dick that.

I’d caught a glimpse of it a couple of times before, through his shorts when he was freeballing or when I walked past my mom’s room while he was changing. I’d never been this close to it, though, nor had I seen it hard.

It was massive. Long, uncircumcised, with just a slight curve to the left.

I looked up at him, locking eyes, tongue out like a submissive little slut.

He was breathing heavily, his hairy chest rising and falling underneath that tattered wifebeater he wore whenever he did his little grunt work. He stared at me, and for a moment, I thought he might actually push me away.

But then he grabbed the back of my head, grabbed a fistful of my curls, and slowly pushed his dick into my mouth.

The tip had just landed on my tongue when we heard the sound of the front door slam.

“Honey, have you seen my purse?”

He shoved me back with lightning speed, knocking me on my ass. In a flash, his dick was tucked back into his Wrangler jeans, all evidence of what we were about to do wiped clean.

“Get up,” he hissed.

Then he strode out of the laundry room.

“Did you check the front hall closet, babe…”

I got to my feet, wiping off the bit of dust that had gathered on my white Dolce & Gabbana shorts.

“Fucking redneck,” I cursed under my breath.

Those shorts cost more than Graham made in a month doing his pathetic little blue-collar carpentry work. You wouldn’t catch me dead in a job that forced me to work with my hands. Then again, I was halfway through a degree at Princeton, and Graham never did anything past vocational school.

I still didn’t know what my mother saw in this guy. Sure, he was handsome, and now I knew for sure that he had a really big dick. But he had no money, no education, and, if they ever got divorced, would take half of her fortune and my trust fund right with him.

I hated him. From the moment she brought him home, I wanted him gone.

Mom wouldn’t budge, of course. She’d told me to make an effort, to get to know him.

“He’s a real sweetheart,” she’d said, as if that mattered more than money and reputation.

I was dead set on showing her just how wrong she was about him. And if I had to do it by seducing him and exposing him for the redneck piece of shit he was in the process, then that was just the necessary fallout.

When I got out to the living room, Mom was pulling her purse out from the gap between the side table and the couch.

“Must have knocked it off earlier…”

She looked up and saw me. “Connor! Sweetheart, I thought you were coming back this evening.”

“I took my last class off,” I said smoothly. “Couldn’t wait to get home and see you.”

I kissed her on the cheek, and she smiled.

“Sweet boy. I’ve got dinner reservations for eight. I’ll be back in a couple of hours, so make sure you’re ready to leave by seven thirty, all right?”

“You don’t have to come,” Graham said quickly.

Mom and I looked at him.

“If you’re tired from the drive,” he added sheepishly.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I said. “I’m looking forward to it.”

He looked a bit pale as I grinned.

“Wonderful. Well, be good, you two!” Mom turned on her heel, long blond hair swinging in a curve as she traipsed out the door.

The second she was gone, I took a step closer to Graham.

“I thought she’d never leave,” I said, reaching for his bulge.

He grabbed my wrist. “Connor… don’t.”

I frowned. “Come on, Stepdad… why don’t we finish what we started?”

I extended my fingers, trying to brush up against his cock, but he held me tight.

“No,” he said firmly. “You’re my stepson. And you’re only 21. You’re not… not thinking clearly. Your hormones…”

My lips curled slightly. “Oh, I’m old enough to know exactly what I want, Graham.”

He swallowed. His eyes drifted down to my crotch, which was growing tight against my shorts again.

“Mom doesn’t need to know,” I continued. “Just let me put your dick in my mouth.”

His lower lip dropped slightly, the stubble on his jaw growing slick with sweat, even though it wasn’t that warm in here.

Finally, he dropped my wrist.

“I’m gonna take a shower,” he said, turning and walking toward the stairs so quickly it was practically a run.

I stared after him, frowning.

Goddammit, Mom. If she had just come back five minutes later…

I needed her to catch me in the act, or to find some evidence of us fucking. Preferably, it wouldn’t have to get that far. I’d jerked off with a few of my lacrosse buddies, and even let one of them blow me, but I hadn’t done much more than that before with a guy. Gail was my current girlfriend, though she was a bit boring, and I was mostly just in it for the easy head.

What I really wanted was for Mom to walk in on me with Graham’s dick in my mouth, or his hand in my pants. Then she’d be furious, throw him out, and they’d be divorced by December. She’d forgive me, of course—I was her darling little boy who could do no wrong—but Graham would be out of our lives forever, and my trust fund would be secure.

But if I couldn’t find a way to seduce him, then my whole plan was toast.

The door to Mom’s bedroom was closed, but not locked. I could hear the shower running from her bathroom when I slipped inside. I crept past the four-poster bed, but when I tried the door to the bathroom, it was locked.

Damn. I guess I’m gonna take a shower wasn’t code for wait two minutes and then come blow me.

I sat on the bed, chewing the inside of my cheek as I tried to strategize.

I knew Graham was turned on by me. His dick told me that much. But how to get him to give in?

Blackmail wouldn’t work. And after our near miss, I couldn’t just jump his bones. I’d have to get creative.

The shower turned off a few minutes later. Then silence, followed by footsteps.

When the door opened, Graham was standing there with one of Mom’s white Egyptian cotton towels slung around his waist. His hairy chest was flushed with red, the little hairs on his slight belly still dripping a few droplets of water. When he saw me on the bed, he jumped.

“Jesus, Connor,” he said. “What are you doing?”

I lay there on top of the covers, naked but for my white Hugo Boss briefs.

“Just getting comfortable,” I said casually. “You don’t mind, do you, Stepdad?”

I ran a hand across my abs, the light dusting of blond hairs glowing golden in the light.

“Connor, this is inappropriate,” he said, his voice husky. “You need to leave.”

“I found something while you were in the shower.” I slipped my hand under the covers and pulled out the thick purple dildo.

His eyes went wide when he saw it.

“Do you use this on Mom?” I asked, running a finger along the edge. “To get her ready for your big cock?”

“Connor–”

“I’ll bet she’s loud,” I continued. I hooked a finger under my briefs, pulling them down to expose a tuft of blond pubic hair. My cock stretched the fabric, and when the head popped out, it slapped loudly against my stomach.

Graham just stared at it, mouth agape. When he looked up at me, I was smiling.

“I’m louder,” I said.

I pressed the dildo against my already-lubed hole, teasing the entrance with the thick purple head. I ran a hand across my chest, pinching one of my pale pink nipples as Graham watched me.

I moaned. “Mm… Love having my nipples played with…”

He swallowed. His hand went to the towel to keep it from slipping, but I noticed him adjust himself with a quick squeeze.

I pushed the dildo half an inch inside my ass. I winced a little at the burning. I’d never played with my ass (aside from the occasional pinky action from Gail), and I was way too tight for something as big as this.

It had the intended effect, however. Graham hadn’t moved from the edge of the bed, and his eyes were locked onto the dildo.

“Fuck,” I moaned as the head popped through my ring. “It’s really big, Graham. I don’t know how Mom takes it.”

“Connor…” he whispered.

My briefs were hanging off one of my ankles. I pulled them off and tossed them playfully at Graham.

They hit him across the face, and his hand automatically went up to catch them.

“Why don’t you come and replace it with something bigger?” I asked, smirking.

He held my underwear up to his face for a moment, and I could tell he was smelling them. But when he lowered them, I could see he looked angry.

He threw them on the ground, then stormed over to the side of the bed.

“Give me that,” he hissed, grabbing the dildo from my hands.

I cried out a little in surprise as he yanked it out of me.

He tossed it behind him, hitting the wall with a loud thumping sound.

I watched it clatter against the carpet. When I looked up he was staring down at me, breathing heavily in anger. For a second, I was afraid he might actually hit me.

“Graham,” I said carefully.

“Shut up, Connor.”

He grabbed the edge of the towel, undoing it and letting it slide off his hips.

His cock was thick and hard, the tip glistening with precum from where it peeked out beneath his foreskin. Dark brown hair sprouted from the base and stretched in a treasure trail up his stomach.

He put his hand in my blonde curls again, then grabbed his cock with his other hand and pressed it against my lips.

“You want it?” he said, his voice low and commanding. “Then open your mouth and take it.”

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Cerebral Gay Fiction

Railing The Man She Married

My horny foxes, I was in the mood for a slow burn. Let me know what you think…

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9 months ago · 63 likes · 13 comments · Fox Emerson