Sleepover With My Friend's Dad Pt.2 (Patreon)

Three weeks passed by. When Jake finally texted me on a Thursday, asking if I wanted to come over Friday night to test the new expansion pack everyone hyped, excitement slammed through me so hard I nearly dropped my phone. I waited a full five minutes before replying, forcing nonchalance into my thumbs as I asked whether Silas planned to stick around that weekend. Jake shot back almost immediately that he would be home all weekend and even mentioned Silas had already picked up extra meat for the grill Saturday.

I packed my backpack Thursday night. Friday after the classes, I caught the bus straight to their neighborhood. Jake met me at the door, hauling me inside and downstairs to the basement. His dad appeared at the top of the stairs long enough to say dinner sat ready whenever we surfaced, his gaze stayed on mine for a fraction longer than necessary that Jake never noticed as he yelled back about needing ten more minutes to finish the current match.

We ate at the kitchen table an hour later. I kept my legs pressed tight together under the table to hide how hard I already grew just from sitting across from him, watching the way his throat moved when he swallowed, the flex of muscle in his forearm when he cut another bite. After dinner we helped clear plates, then escaped back downstairs for hours more gaming, trash talk flying as we battled through levels, pausing only for bathroom breaks and another fridge raid around midnight.

By the time we shut the console down it was near two in the morning. We dragged ourselves upstairs to Jake’s room and talked in the dark for another twenty minutes about weekend plans until his responses turned into soft snores. I lay motionless under the covers.

The second I felt certain Jake slept deeply, I slid from the bed, bare feet silent on the carpet as I eased the door open and stepped into the hallway. His dad’s room waited at the far end, door cracked exactly as I remembered. My heart hammered so loud I feared it might wake the house, but I moved anyway, pushing the door wider and slipping inside before I clicked it shut and turned the lock.

He waited exactly where I hoped, propped against the headboard with pillows stacked behind him, sheets shoved down past his hips, one hand wrapped loosely around his cock. He smiled as he watched me cross the room. I launched myself onto the bed without a word, landing on my knees beside him close enough that my thigh pressed against his.

His hand left his cock and settled on my leg. “Did you like my underwear?” He asked.

I opened my mouth to stammer excuses, apologies tumbled over each other about how I panicked after cumming in and couldn’t bear leaving the evidence, but he laughed and squeezed my thigh reassuringly.

“It’s okay,” he said, his palm sliding higher. “I still have your shirt, remember? I like it too.”

I had assumed he discarded the cum-soaked shirt weeks ago, laundered or trashed without a second thought, but he had kept it, stashed somewhere private the same way I hid his briefs. Imagining him pulling it out night after night, pressing the stained fabric to his face while he jerked off to the memory of me cumming beside him, sent a violent surge of blood to my cock. I groaned and shoved my pants down, kicking them off the edge of the bed so I knelt completely naked. My hand sought him immediately, I wrapped my fingers around the hot length I had dreamed about constantly.

He let me work him for several minutes, hips shifting subtly into my grip, before he threaded fingers through my hair and guided me downward.

“I was thinking this time you could use your mouth.”

I had zero experience beyond fantasies, no clue if I could please him properly but the command in his words drowned every doubt. I wanted this more than I feared failure, wanted to taste him after weeks of imagining nothing else. He pressed gently until my face hovered over his lap and I parted my lips, lowering myself until the swollen head slid past them and onto my tongue.

I sealed my lips tight and sucked, exploring the smooth crown with my tongue while my hand kept pumping the thick shaft beneath. He exhaled hard above me, showing me the depth he liked. I took him deeper on each downward slide, my saliva coated him until it dripped down to slick my fingers. He gave instructions in clipped commands, harder suction on the head, tongue flat along the underside, twist your fist when you pull up, and I obeyed instantly, loving the way he controlled every action, I used my mouth exactly how he needed while my own cock throbbed.

Wet sounds filled the quiet room, mingling with his growing moans. I bobbed faster, took him to the back of my throat until I gagged lightly and adjusted, determined to give him everything. He warned me seconds before cumming, as he asked if I wanted his load in my mouth, but I only sucked harder, refusing to pull away, answering with action instead of words.

He came with a deep, guttural groan, hips bucking as thick spurts flooded my mouth. The volume shocked me, it was far more than I expected, it spilled over my tongue and down my throat until I swallowed frantically to keep up. Some escaped the corners of my lips anyway; I coughed around him, eyes watering as he eased me off gently once the last spurt ended. His thumb brushed tenderly across my chin, gathering the overflow, then he grabbed the edge of the sheet and wiped the rest from my mouth, apologizing for the overload while his fingers continued stroking through my hair as I knelt there catching my breath.

"Now it's my turn." He said.

He guided me down onto my back and I stretched out in front of him, I spread my legs without thinking while my cock jutted out toward the ceiling. He shifted forward on his knees then winked once before he lowered himself between my thighs. My cock looked smaller next to his but he never commented, never compared; he simply wrapped his fingers around the base to steady me and took the head into his mouth in one smooth motion.

The wet heat of his tongue engulfed me, it swirled around the crown before he sucked hard and pulled me deeper, his lips sealed tight as his cheeks hollowed. He knew exactly how to work me, alternating firm suction with lighter flicks across the underside. I felt the pleasure fast and it was quite overwhelming, far beyond anything I managed on myself or even dreamed about; his experience showed in every calculated move, every pause to tease the slit with the tip of his tongue before he swallowed me down again until his nose brushed my stomach. I still tasted his cum coating the back of my throat.

I managed to gasp out a warning that I was close, my thighs were already trembling under his forearms, but he only hummed around me in response and pulled off at the last second, his hand replaced his mouth to pump me fast. As I came, my cum streaked across my stomach and chest, every muscle locked tight until the final spurt landed just below my ribs. He milked me through it gently, squeezing from base to tip until I went limp against the sheets, then reached he for the towel folded on the nightstand and handed it over so I could wipe the mess away.

He sat back on his heels for a moment, watching me catch my breath with a satisfied expression, then stood and stretched. "I'm going to the shower," he said, tilting his head toward the door. "You coming with me this time?"

I regretted refusing the last time, but fear of Jake waking and wandering down the hall kept me pinned to the bed. I shook my head, maybe next time, even as disappointment flashed across my own mind.

He grinned wider at that, stepped closer, and trailed fingers across my shoulder in a light caress. "And maybe next time we can do something to that pretty ass."

He squeezed my shoulder once more, turned, and left the room naked, carrying the towel slung over his arm as he disappeared into the hallway. I lay there several minutes longer while I processed everything.

Eventually I forced myself up, wiped the remaining streaks from my skin, and pulled my pants back on before I slipped out of his room and padded down the hall. The bathroom door stood closed, shower was already running loud behind it and I paused outside, hand half-raised as I pictured him under the water, soaping that hairy chest. Every instinct screamed to push the door open and join him, drop to my knees on the tile and take him again but the risk of Jake waking up and finding an empty bed or hearing something stopped me cold. I dropped my hand and continued to Jake's room instead.

That single line about my ass lodged itself permanent in my thoughts from the moment he spoke it. I obsessed over the idea constantly in the days and weeks after, imagining him behind me, hands spreading me open, cock pressing in until he filled me completely. Every time I pulled his stolen briefs from my closet I pictured him doing the same with my shirt, wrapping the stained fabric around his fist while he stroked himself and thought about burying himself inside me. I jerked off to the fantasy while I fingered myself thinking of the stretch and burn, I hoped he would give me soon.

To be continued...