Chapter 14: MY BEST FRIEND'S FATHER - STORY 2

MY BEST FRIEND'S FATHER - STORY 2

~Jamie’s POV~

A week passed. Marcus texted me every day, not sweet nothings, but orders. Wear the black briefs. Don’t jerk off. Be ready.

The craving in my gut grew worse. Every night I lie in bed, fingers hovering over my cock, desperate to touch myself. But I obeyed. I wanted him too badly to disobey.

Then the invite came. Ethan’s birthday dinner. ‘Saturday. 7 p.m. Wear something nice. We will be ahead.’

I arrived at the steakhouse wearing dark jeans that hugged my thighs and a fitted navy sweater.

Marcus opened the door himself, eyes raking down my body like he was undressing me already.

Ethan hugged me. “Dude, glad you came. Dad’s paying for everything, so order the most expensive thing on the menu.”

Marcus smiled smoothly. “Within reason, son.” His gaze flicked to me. “Jamie looks hungry already.”

I swallowed hard, feeling my face heat.

We sat in a curved booth, Ethan on one end, Marcus on the other, and me in the middle.

The restaurant was busy, candlelit, waiters moving between tables. The place was filled unlike the theatre.

Under the table, Marcus’s hand found my knee almost immediately. I flinched but didn’t pull away.

“So, Jamie,” Marcus said casually, picking up his wine glass. “Ethan tells me you’ve been stressed with exams.”

Ethan nodded, scrolling his phone. “Yeah, bro’s been grinding nonstop. I keep telling him to chill.”

Marcus’s fingers slid higher, squeezing my inner thigh. “Maybe you need a better way to… relieve tension.”

I gripped my water glass tightly. “I-I’m managing.”

“Are you?” Marcus tilted his head, eyes dark. “You look tense right now.”

Ethan glanced up. “He’s right, you’re all stiff. Relax, dude. It’s my birthday.”

I forced a smile. “Yeah. Sorry.”

The waiter came. We ordered. The moment the waiter left, Marcus’s hand returned, this time palming the bulge already straining against my zipper.

He leaned over under the pretense of reaching for bread, his breath hot on my ear.

“You came here wearing that tiny plug I left on your bed?”

My heart lurched. “Yes, sir.”

“Good boy. Don’t clench too hard or you’ll come before dinner.”

I bit my lip. The silicone plug inside me had been a surprise this morning with a note that said Wear this. No excuses.

I had pushed it in with shaking hands, the slight stretch a constant reminder all day. Every step sent a jolt of pleasure up my spine.

Now, sitting across from Ethan, while his father’s fingers traced the outline of my cock through my jeans, I felt drunk on the risk.

“Dad, you okay over there?” Ethan asked, reaching for his soda.

“Fine, son. Just making sure Jamie’s comfortable.” Marcus squeezed harder. “He seems a little… backed up.”

Ethan laughed. “Jamie? Backed up? Dude hasn’t gotten laid in like a year.”

Marcus raised an eyebrow. “Is that true, Jamie?”

I nodded weakly, my throat dry. Although, what Ethan doesn't know is his father has been doing a great job getting me laid.

“Well,” Marcus said, pulling his hand away to pick up his wine again, “maybe someone should help him with that.”

The food arrived, steak, mashed potatoes, and asparagus. I couldn’t eat. Every time I shifted, the plug pressed deeper.

Marcus watched me squirm with open amusement, slowly cutting his steak like he had all the time in the world.

“Ethan,” Marcus said suddenly, “go grab us another round of drinks. Tell the bartender to make mine a double.”

“Sure, Dad.” Ethan slid out of the booth and headed toward the bar.

The second he was gone, Marcus’s hand shot between my legs. He yanked my zipper down, pulled my cock out through the opening, and wrapped his fingers around the base. I gasped.

“Shh.” He thumbed the leaking tip, spreading pre-cum down the shaft. “You think I didn’t notice you squirming? This little cock is desperate.”

“Yes, please,” I whispered.

“Please what?”

“Please touch me.”

He smirked and pulled a small remote from his pocket. My eyes widened.

“You didn’t think the plug was just for decoration, did you?” He pressed a button.

The plug inside me vibrated.

I choked, slamming my hand over my mouth as the deep, rumbling buzz shot straight through my hole.

My whole body seized. Marcus kept his hand loosely around my cock, thumb stroking lazily while the toy worked me from the inside.

“Ethan will be back in two minutes,” Marcus murmured, watching my face contort. “Think you can hold it together?”

I shook my head, tears pricking my eyes. The vibrations continued in waves, from low, then high, then low again, unpredictable and cruel.

My balls tightened. Pre-cum dribbled down Marcus’s fingers.

“Please,” I begged, barely a whisper. “Please let me come.”

“Not yet.”

He clicked the remote again. The vibrations stopped.

I sagged against the booth, chest heaving, cock twitching painfully. Marcus tucked me back into my jeans and zipped me up just as Ethan returned with three drinks.

“Everything good?” Ethan asked, sliding back in.

“Perfect,” Marcus said, raising his glass. “Jamie was just telling me how much he appreciates you, son.”

Ethan grinned. “Yeah, I’m a pretty great best friend.”

I tried to laugh. It came out strangled.

Dinner continued. Marcus played the perfect father, asking about Ethan’s classes, joking about work, stealing fries off my plate as if nothing had happened.

But under the table, his hand kept wandering. He would brush my thigh, squeeze my knee, press the remote against his palm like a threat.

By the time dessert came, I was soaked with sweat, my hole clenching around the dormant plug. Every time Marcus looked at me, I felt exposed.

“ Ethan, how is your girlfriend? Is she coming over?”

“ No, Dad. Felicia is busy. Med student but we plan on going somewhere fancy tomorrow.”

Marcus nodded and we returned back to our meal. Later that night, while playing video games Ethan passed out first.

We had played Call of Duty for two hours, Ethan on the couch, me on the floor, Marcus in the armchair pretending to read.

The moment Ethan’s breathing went heavy and slow, Marcus stood.

“Come,” he said quietly, walking toward the hallway.

I followed on shaking legs.

His bedroom was at the end of the hall, dark except for a single lamp. The bed was huge, covered in dark sheets.

On the nightstand, I saw a collection of toys laid out. There was a larger plug, curved and thick.

There was also a vibrating wand and a set of silicone beads with lots of lube.

“Strip,” Marcus ordered, locking the door.

I pulled off my sweater, my jeans, my boxers. My cock sprang free, flushed and dripping.

The small plug was still buried inside me, slick with lube and my own desperate need.

Marcus circled me, running a finger down my spine. “You wore it all night. I must say, you did better than I expected.”

He picked me up and bent me over the edge of the bed, spread my cheeks, and pulled the plug out slowly.

The stretch and release made me moan, my hole clenching helplessly around nothing.

“Look how ready you are.” He pushed two fingers inside easily, the leftover lube making obscene squelching sounds. “Greedy little cunt.”

I buried my face in the sheets as he fingered me open, scissoring, stretching, pressing against my prostate until I was whimpering.

“Please, sir. Please fuck me.”

“Not yet.” He pulled his fingers out and picked up the beads, six silicone spheres connected by a firm cord, increasing in size. “You’re going to take all of these first.”

He pushed the first bead inside. It slid in easily. The second stretched me wider. I groaned.

The third burned. The fourth made me cry out, gripping the sheets. Marcus paused, rubbing my lower back.

“Breathe.”

I did, forcing myself to relax. He pushed the fifth bead in, and my vision went white.

The fullness was unbearable, every bead pressing against my sweet spot, my walls, my everything.

“One more,” Marcus whispered, and pushed the largest bead inside.

I screamed into the mattress.

He left them there for a long moment, just watching me tremble. Then he pulled the cord slowly, dragging each bead out one by one.

The sensation was overwhelming, the drag, the stretch, the release, over and over until I was sobbing into the sheets.

“Look at you,” Marcus murmured, tossing the beads aside. “Dripping everywhere.”

He picked up the curved plug next. This one was thicker than the first one, angled perfectly to hit the urethra.

He pushed it in with one smooth motion, and the tip pressed exactly where I needed it.

“Oh, fuck,” I gasped.

Marcus picked up the vibrating wand. “Hold still.”

He pressed the wand against the base of the plug and turned it on.

I lost the ability to think. The vibrations traveled through the plug, deep into my prostate, swinging up my spine.

My cock twitched and leaked onto the sheets. My legs gave out completely. Marcus held me up with one hand on my hip while the other moved the wand in slow circles, making the plug shift inside me.

“Please,” I begged, drool running down my chin. “Please, I can’t…it’s too much…”

“You can,” he said calmly. “You will. You’re going to come like this, hands-free, and then I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk.”

He turned the wand to a higher setting.

The orgasm built until I couldn't hold it anymore. I screamed into the pillow as my cock erupted, spurting loads of cum across Marcus’s sheets.

My hole clenched around the plug violently, the vibrations prolonging every wave of pleasure until I was shaking, and sobbing.

Marcus finally turned off the wand.

I lay there, limp, cum cooling on my stomach and the sheets. Marcus pulled the plug out slowly, watching my hole clench and flutter.

“Beautiful,” he whispered.

He stripped off his clothes. He prepped himself up behind me, and pushed the head against my stretched, sensitive entrance, and slammed in with one brutal thrust.

I screamed again, unable to control it.

Marcus fucked me so hard like he has never done. His balls slapped against my ass with every stroke. He gripped my hair, yanked my head back, and growled in my ear.

“You think Ethan might have heard you? Your best friend is sleeping right now, or listening to his father fuck his best friend’s ass?”

The thought made my spent cock twitch.

“I don’t care,” I gasped. “Fuck me harder.”

He did. He fucked me until I couldn’t speak, until tears streamed down my face, and my third orgasm of the night ripped through me without warning.

It was dry this time, just pure spasms of pleasure wracking my body.

Marcus came with a loud groan, flooding me with heat, pumping until it dripped down my thighs.

He collapsed on top of me, both of us panting.

After thirty minutes, he pulled out and rolled me over. His thumb traced my swollen lips as he brought his cock to my lips.

“One more round,” he said softly. “Then you can sleep.”

And I opened my mouth willingly, already hungry for more.