MasukVICTOR
My name is Victor. I had just turned 18 and had finished high school. I was waiting to get into college, so while at it, I helped out with running some errands in the house. Some of the errands include doing laundry, taking out the trash, mowing the lawn, taking our dog for a walk while my younger sibling and my mum handled the rest. I even got a job at a local grocery store where I worked part-time. There was this park, about 10 minutes' walk from our house where I usually take our dog for a walk in the evening and sometimes early in the morning. This morning, I was all dressed up and had Rocky, our dog on a collar and leash, ready to take him to the park when my mum suddenly told me not to go there ever again. “Why?” I asked, confused. “Because dirty old men hang around the toilets in the park, trying to get young boys to do disgusting things with them.” “Mum…” I gave her a look that screamed there was no way she could be serious about that. “You can’t possibly believe that. Who told you?” She stopped wiping the kitchen counter and looked at me, her expression more serious than I expected. “One of my friend’s sons got caught in there and do you know what he was doing?” She asked like I knew. I shook my head slowly, literally holding my breath as I waited for her to continue. “He was kissing the old man thingy,” she said, her voice thick with disgust before she made the sign of the cross. She was a staunch believer and was strictly against anything immoral or sinful. “Oh God, that is the most disgusting thing ever, and I hope his mother reports that pervert to the police,” she said spitefully, carrying the remaining dishes on the counter to the sink to wash them. “Honestly Victor, I don’t want you going back there. We’ll find somewhere else to take Rocky but if we don’t, you can just walk him in the front yard instead.” Her voice rose above the rush of water and clanging dishes. I didn’t know why but as I stood there, my heart raced and I began to get hard just thinking about some teenage lad my age getting down on his knees and sucking some dirty old man’s cock. I couldn’t get the image out of my mind no matter how hard I tried. It turned me on so bad. Quickly, I put Rocky in his crate and went upstairs to my room. I made sure my mom had left before I started playing with myself. My dad worked in the bank and left very early every morning. My mum worked as an office administrator and pretty much left the house before 9am, and my two siblings had already gone to school. Since I couldn’t take the dog out for a walk and wouldn’t be heading to the grocery store until later in the evening, I had the house all to myself and could pretty much do whatever I wanted for the next six hours. Grabbing a bottle of lube, I made my way into the bathroom. I applied a generous amount to my flaccid cock and tried to get into the mood. I thought of fucking a girl. But right now, it wasn't doing it for me. But the moment I thought of myself going down on that old man’s cock, I instantly got hard. I started slowly, running my hand up and down my shaft. But increased the pace as my needs increased, giving my cap a nice, repeated, gentle press. “Fuck…” My breath trembled as that familiar blissful feeling ran through me. I pictured the man in my mind, slowly making up his features. Middle-aged, Italian, with messy salt and pepper hair, hairy chest, and a massive ten-inch cock. I pictured him tugging my hair as I got down on him, twisting my head back, slapping his dick on my face before shoving it down my throat as many times as he could. “Fuck…” I placed my hand against the bathroom wall for support and cried out as pleasure tore through my body like lightning through the sky. I held back a groan, breath seizing and eyes rolling back to my skull as I splashed a heavy load of my cum all over the wall. When I finished, I washed up and went to lie on my bed. Thinking of what I had done, I suddenly felt guilty but I wouldn’t deny that it felt so damn good. I hadn’t cummed so violently in a long time. Thinking of sex with a girl hadn’t even made me cum so violently. I ended up sleeping off while thinking of it, wishing it was me who was fucked by that old man in the toilet. * * * With time, I knew I couldn’t bear it anymore. More than anything, I wanted to grab hold of a nice, warm, and turgid cock that wasn’t mine. I wanted to be fed with cock, slapped with cock, bent over, and dicked down like there was no tomorrow. With how addictive p**n was, I couldn’t keep relying on it or pleasuring myself all the time, especially with my family around. I could be caught. And when I am, my mom will think I am sinful and corrupt and might send me to a priest for confession or even ship me off to some religious reform facility. I couldn’t afford that. Not while I was waiting to get into college like everyone else my age. So one morning, after everyone had left, I found myself walking towards the park toilet.RAY My wife and I found a new apartment early this summer. It wasn’t anything special. Just two bedrooms, one bathroom, and a kitchen the size of a closet. This was not the kind of place that could pass as anyone’s dream home. But it could make do for now. At least until the babies came and we started raising a family. I remember my wife standing by the living room window that evening and pointing across the street. “There,” she said. “Your running route.” I smiled and walked over to her. I pulled her into me and pressed a gentle kiss on her forehead and on the top of her head. As a dedicated runner, we’d considered that before choosing this place. I like to go for a fifteen to twenty-minute run three times a week, usually in the morning before starting my day. Wouldn’t trade it for anything. The road ran right up to our block and belonged to a school campus. It was long. Could've doubled as a marathon route. Dorms lined one side, a library the other, and students crossed t
MILOThat word again. It should have been ridiculous. I was thirty-three; he was twenty-eight. I was older. I should have known better than to let a word like that keep affecting me. But it landed in a place I didn’t have a name for and I felt myself soften and open more under him like a flower turning toward light.I looked back over my shoulder at him. My face was twisted into a helpless whimper, half pain, half pleasure. His face was half triumph, half tenderness as he thrust into me and his breath washed over my face.“My babygirl,” he said again, softer this time and I lost count, turning back frailly toward the pillow as each thrust knocked the air right out of my lungs.His hips picked up pace. With each sharp, brutalizing thrust, his weight pressed me deeper into the mattress, the room filled with the obscene sound of skin slamming against skin and the bed knocking against the wall. My dick was so hard under me I thought I might burst. I reached down and wrapped my hand aroun
MILO“You nasty slut,” he whispered sinisterly into my ear, his breath dragging along my skin. “You can’t say you came here not expecting this to happen.”I smiled again. Maybe I did. Maybe I didn’t, which was why I lowkey prepared for it.Without warning, he added a second finger. I gritted my teeth. The stretch burned—two of his longest fingers fighting for room in my tight little hole. Within seconds, the burn quickly turned into something pleasurable.My face lifted off the pillow before I even realized it and I gasped. “Oh, fuck…”“There you are.” He laughed, low against the back of my neck. “I knew you were going to like getting your ass played with.”He was right. But not entirely. I didn’t know until later tonight.“And who better than me to do it?” He laughed again—the sound of a man who’d finally won something he’d been chasing for a long time. “I’m going to fuck your ass so good you’d wish I did it earlier.”Just like that his fingers worked me open with a patience I hadn’t
MILOAiden was standing right there in the middle of the hallway. Eyes wide. Mouth open. Looking at me like I was something that just walked straight out of one of his dreams. “Jesus,” he blurted out.“What?” I stared down at myself, suddenly self-conscious in a way I’d never been. Did I wear the bra wrong? Was the skirt pulled up too high or too low or was something hanging out?I looked at myself a dozen times in the mirror before stepping out. Pretty sure I hadn’t missed anything. “Nothing. You just—” He didn’t finish. He closed his mouth, a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Come on. Let’s get you another drink.”I shook my head. “I’m not drinking unless you finish the sentence.” I insisted. “I just what?”He gave me a knowing look, that smile still plastered on his face.“You just look different. That’s all.”Of course I’d look different. Did he expect me to look the same in women’s underwear? I let my guard down some more, and couldn’t help the smile that crept acros
MILOAiden poured the seventh glass and slid it toward me. Anyone with eyes could see I was already gone. Drunk. Swaying where I sat. Past the point of pretending I could handle it. “C’mon,” he pressed, sliding the glass closer. “Just another bottle and we can call it a night.”“Another bottle?” I laughed. Too loud. Too loose. “You’re insane if you think I’m going to take another bottle of that. I… I’m heading home to my bed.”I pushed back from the table, trying to get up. He didn’t let me. He kept pushing the glass toward me. And I forgot to mention, it wasn’t one of those small, thin glasses. It was one of those big tumblers that could literally qualify as a can.I shook my head and kept resisting until my hand knocked the glass over by accident.The drink hit my chest and ran down my shirt—cold, sticky, sudden. The bloom spread across the rest of my body and soaked into my pants, right where my dick sat. I stared down at it for what felt like a full minute before the slow, mortif
FINN The walk downstairs felt like forever. Every step down felt heavier than the last. The wood creaked beneath us, and with each creak, I braced myself for the worst. If his aunt ended up disappointed, if she ended up kicking him out then I’d take Keller to stay with me at my place. My parents would raise brows, no doubt, but I can handle them. I’ll cook up some excuse to convince them. And the fact Keller and I played in the same team would make it so much easier to sell.He’d stay with me until he could figure things out. Until he could afford to rent a place of his own. As things stood, we weren’t earning much of anything until we made it big and became professional players. Soccer scouts from across Europe and America would be in the state finals, watching. That was our chance to get seen. To show what we got. Because if they’re impressed by a player's skills and potential, there was a huge chance he could be signed to some of the biggest clubs in the world—the ones that paid







