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I am Bill Mitchell, 40, white, tall, muscular, and married with four kids. My wife and I have an arrangement of sorts, because she just doesn’t want to be sexual as often or as differently as I do. She doesn’t care if I date other women, but I can never bring them home, never get them involved in any way in our life, and never ever bring home a bastard. I got a vasectomy at 25.
There is a website specifically for us, for men and women who cheat, or are allowed to do it outside their marriage, or whatever combination one may imagine. Given my build and health and demeanor, it is not easy for me to get a date when I like. That site is populated mostly with bots, but I find the real women among the hundreds or thousands who are not. Then I use these women to meet their friends, and so on, until I use them all up, and I go back to that site for more. Has worked well for many years.
This story is about one particular woman I met, and her adult son. This story is still ongoing, but it began last year when I was 39, and she was 45. I don’t want to involve her or her son in my life, as per my wife’s arrangement, so I will call this woman Pam and her son Taylor. Pam’s son Taylor is 22 at the beginning of this story, and lives at home with his mother and father. Pam is cute, she’s a bit curvy, wears a mommy haircut, and mommy jeans and yoga pants and shirts. She has brown hair, green eyes, and works at some office as a phone answerer or something. I don’t really care about that. Her husband is some factory man, he claims to be working a lot, but he’s drunk most of the time, Pam assumes he works maybe 3 days a week, and hangs at the bowling alley drinking the other days, including weekends. So, she is on that site, because she’s sexy enough, and confident enough, and wants to get fucked.
After arranging a meet with Pam on a Friday night, and discussing on our first date the parameters, I spent the night there, fucking her like a hooker. I ate her chubby pussy, I came inside her three times, I even slept over. Because I can. The story really kicks off the next morning. Pam assured me that her husband was passed out somewhere and wouldn’t be home until Monday night. She also assured me that her adult son Taylor wouldn’t be home from his job as a security guard until noon.
So, I wake up at 0500 as usual, and look to see her sound asleep. I liked Pam, but not enough to get involved with morning routine stuff. So, I went downstairs to eat breakfast, and was going to leave.
When I got to the kitchen, I found a bowl, and a spoon, and their cereal. You can imagine in my escapades that I eat a lot of kids’ cereals. This house was no exception, they had either some bran shit, or two kinds of multicolored diabetes cereal. I picked the chocolate puff cereal; it had been a while since I had that one. I made my cereal and sat down to watch some morning news. I figured no way Pam would be up till noon, I fucked her in a way I’m sure she hadn’t been fucked in 25 years.
So, I’m eating this sugar mess of a breakfast, and in strolls this man. Well, not so much a man, but a male adult who looked like a boy. He had no facial hair, dressed like a high schooler, and his eyes were beet red like he’d just finished a joint. “Who the fuck are you?” He asked, like the answer was going to prompt him to do anything other than whatever he was going to do before he saw me.
“Hey kid, I’m a friend of your mom’s,” I had used this line before, but most times it was for actual kids, I hadn’t really had many occasions to use it on an adult child of one of my “lady friends”.
He really seemed like he didn’t give a shit about this. I guess he was just making sure I wasn’t some burglar there to take his Xbox or his pokemans. He sat down across from me at the table and poured the same cereal I was finishing. It was getting surreal now. Do I talk to this kid, or just ignore him and be on my way? Well, I was feeling my oats, so I decided to poke a little bit. “You just getting home from your job or something?”
“Yea, I got done at 5,” he replied quickly, like I might be the first human being he spoke to in a month.
I got to poking: “do you work at a pot testing lab or something?”
Taylor looked at me like I was an asshole, and said, “no dude, I’m a security guard at the warehouse,” and pointed to a security guard colored shirt hanging on the third chair at our table.
I got to chatting him up, I don’t know why exactly. I’m a bit of a bully, I guess, I just can’t stand layabouts and this kind of person. A grown man working at a kid’s job and living bahis şirketleri with mom and dad. And smoking pot, nonetheless. Ripe for my abuse.
After a while I guess he sensed I was fucking with him, so he dumped his unfinished cereal in the sink and went upstairs.
As I was getting ready to leave a little while later, this guy comes back down, and kind of gives me like this passive-aggressive sigh, like he wants to tell me to stop fucking his mom and get out, but he’s too much of a pussy to even make human words come out of his little mouth. As I got closer to the door, I called to him, “Hey Taylor, let me show you something,” and I motioned for him to come over, as I pulled my phone out of my pocket.
He got up close, a phone is like offering a baby candy, they just can’t resist, like whatever I was about to show him was going to change his life. Well, it did, anyway!
He looked at my phone, and on it was a picture of his mom’s creampied hairy inside out pussy! He backed away, “yuck dude what the fuck is that?”
And of course, I said, “I fucked your mom!” And I gave him the finger and walked out. I looked back once, and nothing. I walked from their neighborhood to a park a
few blocks away and got an Uber back to the restaurant I met Pam at.
Now, normally, I would have rated the date with Pam as say a 7 and would put her in the maybe pile. Like if I couldn’t get a date on a night I wanted to fuck, and I didn’t feel like jerking off, and my bate buddy was busy, I could give her a call. But this thing with her son, Taylor, this was interesting for me. In the past, some of these women I dated would want to cuck their husbands who wouldn’t fuck them. So, like she would take a picture of my cock and send it to him, or she might wear a pair of tight panties the next day to capture my creampie, and then sit on his face when they went to bed, or some other hilarious shenanigans. Note to dudes, if you don’t want this kind of thing to happen, fuck your wife. That’s all they want. Or, be prepared to eat MY cum! But anyway, I wanted to cuck this kid. He was a big pussy, and he deserved to hear about his mom getting fucked every which way, and I was going to give him that.
That Wednesday, I contact Pam on the website. Normally Wednesday was the day I would send out all my date requests, and pretty much whoever replied first gets it. It was rare I would cancel a date if someone I liked more replied later, even I had some scruples. Of course, Pam jumped on it, and we planned to meet Friday night.
We met at the Applebee’s, and after a dinner and her downing a few margaritas (I never drink), we retired to her house. No one was home, and the morning was supposed to be the same set up as the previous, except she assured me that Taylor would be out until noon, she had made a mistake in reading his schedule the previous weekend. We fooled around in the living room for a while. Of course, I had separate plans, too. On a trip to the bathroom during the makeout session, I snuck into her bathroom, and took a pair of her panties out of the laundry. I sniffed them, and my erection throbbed. She did have a very nice smelling pussy. But that’s not what the panties were for. I put them in my pocket for later.
After we went to the bedroom, I fucked her, this time I pushed her onto the bed face down and basically laid on top of her and slid into her cunt in the prone bone position. She enjoyed this a lot and begged for me to cum inside her. But I didn’t. I took the panties from my pocket, and pulled out, laying on top of her so she couldn’t see what I was doing, and I basically came into the panties. I dripped a little onto her butt, for good measure. Afterward, she said we should cuddle. These women were not only not getting fucked, their men weren’t even cuddling them. They deserved everything that happened to them.
After she dozed off, I took the cummy panties into her bathroom, which adjoined to her son’s room, and dropped the panties right in front of the toilet. It was a 50/50 chance that Taylor would step right in them.
I slept like a log. It had been a long hard week at the plant, and I didn’t wake up at my usual 0500. It was more like 0600, when I heard “Ah fuck what the fuck!” coming from that bathroom. And then, “Ew really?”
Taylor had found my surprise for him. His mom’s cummy panties, with my big cum load in them, now all in his toes. I imagined he was grossed out for a minute, then maybe he went and jerked off to it, probably even licked the cummy crotch.
This was just step one. I got up bahis firmaları and wandered down to the kitchen for my breakfast. I waited more than half an hour before I got some satisfaction. Taylor came into the kitchen and stopped dead when he saw me. I can imagine he was calculating two and two and figuring out that those cummy panties were filled to the brim by me, and that he had just done whatever with them. He gave me a passive-aggressive weakling greeting, “Hi Bill,” and prepared his breakfast.
“You were kind of loud this morning, son, you woke me and your mom up.” I casually said, inserting “son” like I was just warming up to my fucking with him.
He gave me another look, like there was supposed to be a smart reply, but none came. He backed down and looked right back into his cereal bowl. I was getting a bit aroused at this point. I wasn’t prepared for my own reaction, but there it was. This hairless sissy boy was afraid to even confront me after planting his mother’s panties full of my cum where he could step in it, and even more so, I was convinced he jerked off to the whole thing.
“Taylor, you know that I fucked your mom last night, hard, right?” I looked him right in the eye, or where I thought his eyes would be if he wasn’t staring straight down. I didn’t stop. “You don’t have to like it, but you are going to like being my little bitch.”
With that, he did look up. I guess he had heard that phrase before, that he had been the bitch of many men and women throughout his life. This was going to be easy, and fun. “What are you talking about, Bill?”
“Well, son,” now he interrupted this sentence, this time, I guess he was going to make one last effort to not be a pussy.
“Bill stop fucking calling me son, my dad still lives here, you know, and fucking my mom doesn’t make you my dad,” his little voice was getting littler, and cracking too, like he knew he was saying words that were going to result in his face being smashed by a man.
“Taylor, SON, I understand you have these feelings, that your mom is a treasure for only you to love, and that you’re her little boy and only you get her attention. But listen to me. Your mother is a sexy lady, she likes giving blowjobs, and she likes licking my asshole.” As these words came out, he really got red. I know he wanted to punch me. But I also knew he would more likely blow me than punch me. This kid was really nothing, not even to himself. “I will tell you something else, Taylor, SON, if you think I don’t know that you jerked yourself off this morning to MY cum in your mommy’s big cotton panties, you’re in pretend land. If you want to be a cum slut like your mom, all you have to do is ask!” Even as I said the words, I almost laughed inside. I’m not a gay; I have a bate buddy, and sure I like to cum on him, and he cums on me, but that’s really it. But I was actually serious about this, and I even had the image in my head, of this bitch boy on his knees sucking my dick, looking at my cock like he’s never seen anything even half this size. And except for being exceptionally thick, my cock was just barely above average in length.
He looked at me, mortified. I knew right away that I was right, in every way. He HAD jerked off to the panties, and he HAD enjoyed the cum, and he was completely ready to be my bitch. He didn’t move, he didn’t speak. He actually kept eye contact on me. Maybe the longest eye contact this beta ever made with any person ever. I reached out to his hand, like I was going to be his friend. And he took the bait. What a pussy. He reached for my hand, and I grabbed it, but immediately it went under the table, right onto my erect cock. My boxers did nothing to hide the erection, the veiny shaft, the bulbous head, the thick ridge on the helmet. The wet spot at the tip was obvious, as I pulled his hand over the wet tip.
“Bill, please,” I guess his little pipsqueak voice was intending to convince me that he was not going to blow me, but I knew that just wasn’t true. Whether he went along with it, or enjoyed it, or just let me force him, he was going to suck the cum right out of my dick. Right here, at the table he ate dinner with his slut mom and drunk dad. And me, I never had a dude suck my cock, but this was totally going to happen, and it was likely I wasn’t going to last long.
I reached for Taylor’s shoulder with my other hand and pulled his bony puny shoulder toward me. I got brazen, seeing how much of a bully I could be with this supposed man. I pulled him to my face, and gave him an order, “Boy, give your dad a kiss,” and I puckered up like kaçak bahis siteleri I would for my grandmom. He hesitated, like his Minecraft pals would somehow find out, and reject him for doing some gay shit with an older dude. LMAO, right?
He did it, though. He kissed me on my lips, not in the grandmom way I had puckered, he actually parted his lips and tried to lick my lips with his tongue. This little fag was going to French kiss me! With my right hand I pressed his hand into my crotch, so my cock was between some of his fingers and some of my fingers, and I opened my mouth to take his kiss. When in Rome, yea? He kissed like he had done extensive practice on a pillow. It was sloppy and uncoordinated. Imagine a man of 22 years old kissing like a high school kid might. Crazy how these kids are today.
I used my left hand to break the kiss, to push him by his shoulder and neck down to his knees. I rotated the chair so he could suck me off. He looked at my crotch, now only my hand was there, his were free. This was the point where I think 99% of everyone would get up and leave. He was free to go of course, I wasn’t going to rape this man. But he went right along with it, like every terrified little beta cuck would.
He tried to be sexy or coy, “Bill, take your boxers off,” he said in a semi sexy semi weak flower voice.
“You do it, boy. You take my underpants off, you’re the one who wants a mouthful of dick.” I really was laying it on at this point, the fun now was seeing just how far I could go. And even on top of that, how far I would go, would I put my cock inside another man’s mouth? Even if it was surrounded by a baby smooth face, it was still a man. Is it gay to face fuck a sissy? I don’t know. At that point, I didn’t really care either. The dominance was getting me very hard, and I needed relief.
Taylor did as ordered. He reached for the waistband and pulled at my boxers. He pulled like they were going to magically slide under my ass, I wasn’t going to make him work harder at this, so I lifted. He slid them down to my ankles, and looked back up, where my cock was now eye level to him.
“Well, boy, go ahead and kiss your daddy’s dick like that French kiss you just gave me on my mouth. Use your little tongue too.” I was laying it on thick.
He obliged, reaching out with one timid hand, to touch the tip, like it might be electrified or poison, or shoot bullets out the end. He moved his face closer and put his lips around the head. He didn’t open wide enough, and his teeth brushed my head. I grabbed his long girlish hair and pulled him away, “don’t use your fucking teeth dude, what the fuck’s wrong with you?”
He tried again, this time doing just like I guess he saw in the movies, he covered his teeth with his lips, and opened wide. He was a natural after this first mistake. He slid his lips down the shaft, first an inch, then back, then two inches, then back, then an inch again, back, and then he tried more. He only had about five and a half to go, but for a first timer even this might be tough, I guess. Taylor got halfway, say three inches, and gagged. But he never grazed me with his teeth, and he never let up.
Taylor kept sucking, using his tongue on the underside on the downstroke, and around the tip on the upstroke, and he sucked like a vacuum the whole way. A real pro. I wasn’t going to last long. Even the cutest lady might need at least ten minutes to get a load into her mouth, my “son” was going to get a mouthful in under two.
When I was ready, I pushed on the back of his head, and grabbed his long hair like I would with a girl. I pushed down, ensuring that he had to take it all down his throat.
And I came. I came and came, shooting a spurting load right down his neck. He didn’t gag either, he just reached up with his feeble hands, trying to push away, but he knew he could never.
I pulled him off and lifted his head up so I could look him right in the eye. I saw his red face, his teary eyes, and all the drool and spit around his mouth. My cum was leaking out of his lips, and I couldn’t have that. I reached for my phone on the table and snapped a picture. “Lick your lips and swallow all your daddy’s cum, Taylor,” I said to him, in a father of the year voice. And he did it. He licked his lips like they were covered in his favorite ice cream. And I snapped ten pictures of this little slut boy.
He looked me in the eye, as I put my phone back down and pulled my underwear back up. And I said, “go get yourself cleaned up, you look like a sorority slut on a Sunday morning at the campus Starbucks.” After he left to do that, I got dressed and went home.
I never called Pam again, but I did see Taylor again at the grocery store, he bagged my groceries. I came back twice more that day, just to make him do it again.
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