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When I invited Shay over to spend the night during his first physical at my clinic, he agreed to it right away. His examination went splendidly, to say the least. And after a full night of passion, it appeared as though the twink’s thirst was not quenched.
He smelled like the night before. Shay pulled my undies off and slurped my daddy wood into his mouth. The boy bobbed and weaved on my meat like a lad on fire.
He was such a good boy, and I told him so as he smiled up at my beaming face while coaxing pleasure out of me. Still seated in my office chair, I instructed the eager doll to rise and sit on daddy’s lap. Truthfully, what really happened was Shay jumped into my lap and sat straight down on my swollen hardon. Didn’t need any spit or lube, but damn the boy was tight anyway!
It was a wondrous miracle that the twink’s boy hole could fit around my girth. I long-dicked the daylights out of the kid as his delighted shrieks and moans got louder and more intense by the moment…
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Master Legrand sat on the edge of his king-size bed. With a simple motion of his hand, he beckoned The Boy Serg over to him. The Master’s newly acquired Slaveboy obeyed with a bright-eyed eagerness as he approached the towering Master on all fours.
Master Legrand pushed the nearly-nude Boy Serg’s head down against the silky fabric of his tailored slacks. The boy moaned and inhaled again—the manly, musky aroma was intoxicating in ways Boy Serg had difficulty explaining, but understood in a way without words. The Boy was hooked, and knew he would be Master Legrand’s Slaveboy for life if commanded to do so.
The Boy soon found himself on his back with his legs pushed back against his chest. By the time the Slaveboy could get his bearings, he felt the huge cockhead of Master Legrand pressing up against his tiny boyhole. The Master wasn’t exactly sure how he was able to squeeze his massive cockhead past the boy’s incredibly tight sphincter, but he certainly did…
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Master Reese could already feel his rising arousal as Master Marko brought the Boy Milo out onto the dimly-lit floor. The dark-skinned twink slave was only wearing a black jockstrap, which fully displayed the erection he got just from being led around by his barrel-chested superior.
Master Marko pointed the young man’s stiffness out to the watchful eye of Master Reese, presenting it proudly, as if to say, Look at what a good product he is. Look at how well he’s trained. Master Reese seemed to agree—he couldn’t stop himself from stroking his cock through his pants!
The Boy Milo maintained an expression of uncertainty on his face, and there was even the gleam of nervousness in his eyes as Master Marko’s hands roamed all over The Boy’s body, running a measuring tape from his young arms to his chest, then to his stiff little-boy cock. Boy Milo found it difficult, if not impossible, to hide his enjoyment he felt with Master Reese’s touch, especially once he sensed the man’s tongue enter his boyhole.
Master Stone oiled both the moaning Boy’s hole in addition to Master Reese’s stiff, rigid meat to enter it. The Boy Milo’s cheeks were glistening, slathered with oil. His moans turned to grunts of ecstasy as Master Reese’s meat flooded and pulverized every inch of his tiny cavern…
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Eric had only been soaking in the rays for a few minutes when a shadow fell over his closed eyelids. He looked up and saw that his neighbor, Dolf, was the culprit. Eric wasn’t too put off, though; his neighbor was not only extremely tall and completely ripped, but hung like a thoroughbred as well. Eric had always loved seeing him from afar. And today, up close, Dolf was wearing little more than a skimpy speedo, a huge grin, and a huge hard-on nearly bursting through the fabric of his bulge.
As Eric gaped at Dolf’s incredible physique and perfect musculature, the older gentleman grinned and pulled his speedo off. At this point, why not? If anyone came around, he could easily just pull a towel over himself.
Dolf laid back and swung his huge horse cock around. Eric was transfixed and speechless, but in a lustful daze, he found himself on his knees and somehow, miraculously, able to take the giant man’s cock almost all the way into his mouth in one hungry swallow.
Dolf yanked Eric’s tiny swimming suit off and massaged his perfect bubble butt with his huge dinner plate sized hands. This time it was Eric’s turn to moan, as he was quickly turned around and before he could say anything, Dolf’s long, thick, juicy tongue was buried deep inside his tight, pink hole…
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It was a hot spring day when Max visited Mr. Stone for a deep-tissue massage. His small body was rife with tension, which he hoped would get alleviated. Mr. Stone’s massage parlor, and his expert touch, had a particular reputation among local young men as the place to go when they were tight and sore.
When Max arrived he was greeted by the owner himself. Mr. Stone smiled the instant he saw the young man, and guided him to the massage bench. The DILFy masseur was dressed in a white tank and gray shorts that distorted around his visible package. His silver hair was trimmed and the lines of his face were sharp with experience and rugged vigor.
Mr. Stone stepped behind Max and began massaging the boy’s shoulders. The hunky masseur had coated his hands with a warm oil, which he rubbed firmly first into his client’s backside and then worked his way down along the spine. Max closed his eyes and let out a long-held breath as Mr. Stone worked his fingers in circles across the muscles in his neck and shoulder blades.
The sensation was electric and the sweet smell of his sweat charged the air. Mr. Stone could feel the tense muscles underneath his palms as they slowly yielded to his controlled strength.
When Mr. Stone reached the small white briefs that covered Max’s rump, he asked in the natural rumbling bass of his baritone, “Would you like me to take these off? Is that alright?”
These massages often resulted in erections for the small guys like Max. Max was not immune to the effects of Mr. Stone, a fact that both he and his masseur were immediately aware of when Max’s response was a whimpering moan that took the vague shape of “yeah…”
Mr. Stone continued to work his way lower. His hands slid under the waistband of Max’s underwear and caressed his ass cheeks. After the heavy coating of oil, the boy’s rump became quite pliable between his fingers. The DILF worked the oil into every crevice of his client’s back, then flipped him over to reveal the erection already there.
Max felt a glimmer of anticipation run through him, uncertain how his masseur might react. But as Mr. Stone rubbed his palms across the boy’s stomach, pecs, and nipples, he also placed his sizable package next to Max’s face. Max felt the heat of the man’s manhood through the cloth, and in Max’s eyes, the professional masseur morphed into a DILF-fantasy instantly.
Mr. Stone caught sight of the curl of Max’s toes. The masseur was enjoying this, and wanted more than anything to have this young man’s lips wrapped around his cock. Max clearly did too, as he kissed at the stretching spandex near his face.
The DILF stripped himself of his tank-top and shorts; first down to a jockstrap and then down to nothing at all. Each moment a piece of cloth was removed, Max knew more of what he wanted. The new tension that needed release from his body was different than the one he arrived with, but suddenly much more immediate and important.
By simply grasping his strong hands under the young man’s pits, Mr. Stone lifted Max into the air. The boy’s legs wrapped around the DILF’s torso for support and balance. Max was shocked and aroused beyond measure by this demonstration of Mr. Stone’s raw strength and the size difference between them. His face flushed with excitement — he felt, at once, cared for and lusted for, small but protected in the grip that held him in the air.
When Mr. Stone carried him like this, he didn’t just carry the boy’s body; he lifted his whole spirit and squeezed it between his strong arms. The DILF had been right about Max’s need for release—the boy’s erection pulsed hard and fast against his belly, and he could feel the constant stream of precum leaking from his tip.
Now that Max was little more than horny putty in his grips, Mr. Stone set the moaning boy back down on the bench. He spread the boy’s legs wide and prepped his quivering hole with a gob of spit, then began to test its limits with his fingers.
Mr. Stone stroked the length of his shaft until it was wet and slick, teased the tight-yet-relenting ring of the boy’s hole, then slowly pushed in. Max’s back arched off the table. The masseur’s giant cock plunged deep into him, and found a rhythm that suited both of their tastes. The masseur moved his hips, sliding in and out of the young man’s body with steady power.
Max moaned, and pressed his tongue into the corner of his mouth, trying to quiet the wails he felt compelled to make. He loved the feeling of Mr. Stone’s thick meat filling his tight hole, pushing its way inside him. He wanted this to last forever.
Mr. Stone took Max’s little body on a guided tour of sex positions. He fucked the tiny twink on his back, on his knees, and even lifted him back into the same embrace that melted the boy’s mind earlier, thrusting into the tiny gay bottom all the while. Each piston of Mr. Stone’s thick cock melted away the tension in his body, and heightened the pleasure that came from having his prostate pounded.
Realizing their session was soon at an end—and that his orgasm would soon spill—Mr. Stone climbed onto the bench with Max. He folded the boy’s legs over his head and mounted him, ravaging the boy’s hole with his powerful thrusts. His ass felt full and stretched, and the sensation of Mr. Stone’s balls slapping against his cheeks sent a surge of electricity through him, filling his vision with bursts of light.
The salt-and-pepper-haired DILF buried his head into the side of the boy’s smooth neck, kissing the nape as he shot rope after rope of semen inside the twink. As the last drops of seed left his cock, Mr. Stone pulled out. In the afterglow of his orgasm, Mr. Stone watched his seed spill out of Max’s hole and dribble down his client’s taint…
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Dr. Wolf lifts up Caleb’s leg as he leans against the table. Even with its standard height, Caleb has to stretch to get himself onto its wooden surface. As he holds himself in place, Wolf brings his slick shaft up to his hole, resting it in place gently.
Wolf gives it a slight push forward, feeling the pressure of Caleb’s body surround the head of his manhood. The boy lets out a soft moan, feeling his skin stretch over the bulbous shaft, waiting for the familiar pop of his hole yielding and opening…
Caleb felt the head of Wolf’s cock inside him, occupying an inch inside his body, breaking the seal, and making them one. He let out a gasp, feeling how wide his hole stretched in order to take it.
Wolf went slow at first, moving in ever so delicately as not to hurt his young bottom boy, but he knew he could only hold off so long. He wanted to feel every bit of his size engulfed in the boy’s cavity, pulling out only when he’d left his seed in its place!
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Master Dolf expects the best! He works hard, has high standards, and only accepts the best that life has to offer. And Cole did not disappoint. With his handsome looks, beautiful body, big cock and perfect ass, Dolf was a prize he was happy to claim…
As lucky as Dolf was to have him, he knew Cole was lucky, too. Dolf is a prize in my own right. Tall, tanned, muscular, handsome, worldly, and powerful. As Cole crawled on top of him like a puppy, he could feel his enthusiasm and hunger for me swelling inside his tight jockstrap. His hole radiated heat as he ran fingers over it, begging to be dominated and marked by his cock and his seed.
But Dolf was in no rush with nowhere else to go. He could take his time, getting fully inside Cole’s head and his heart. And only then, when Cole felt the aching void where his cock should be would he fuck him hard and deep. And then, for the first time, he will truly be transformed. Made whole. Made to Dolf’s!
