Making My Friend's Dad Hard Part 2 (Patreon)

Monday evening, I took over the kitchen to cook dinner while Brock wrapped up his workday from home. 

After we finished eating, I stood to clear dishes and he pulled me into a quick hug from behind, arms wrapping around my waist while I stood at the sink, chin resting on my shoulder for a moment before he kissed my cheek and let go. I turned to hug him back fully, pressing closer than usual, my hands slid up his back, and he returned the squeeze without hesitation. Those small affections multiplied all evening, another hug while we loaded the dishwasher together, a kiss on the temple when he passed me on the couch, my head dropped to his shoulder during a quick scroll through TV options. 

Thursday night we settled on the couch for a movie. I stretched out without asking and laid my head on his chest, one arm draped across his stomach, legs tangled with his under a shared blanket. I shifted closer until my whole body aligned against his side. The film played on, and I tilted my face to kiss his cheek once, then again a few minutes later. “I missed this when I was little,” I said against his skin. “Just hanging out with you like this.”

He wrapped his arm tighter around my shoulders. “You’ll always be my little boy.”

My cock stiffened instantly against my thigh, trapped in the loose shorts I wore, and I froze for a second. I angled my hips slightly away, pretending to reach for more popcorn, and risked a glance downward. No obvious bulge rose against his sweatpants, at least not that I could detect in the low light, so I relaxed a fraction and nestled back against him. We finished the movie in comfortable silence and we both headed to bed with one last hug in the hallway.

Friday night, Brock headed out with a couple of guys from work, promising to text if their group migrated anywhere specific. I met my own friends an hour later. Around midnight I ran into Brock near a beer tent. He spotted me, waved me over, and ordered a round that included one for me even though my friends stood right there. We chatted for a few minutes before we parted ways again into the crowds.

I stumbled home just past two. Brock’s keys already sat in the bowl by the entrance, so I knew he had beaten me back. I kicked off my shoes, padded down the hall in socks, intending to slip straight into my room. Light spilled from the crack in his bedroom door. I pushed the door open wider and froze.

He lay naked on top of the sheets, phone propped against a pillow, one hand wrapped firmly around his cock while the screen played a video of two men, or that’s what I assumed as I heard two guys moaning and there was no sound of a woman coming from video. Brock stroked himself. I gasped out an apology and yanked the door shut as I retreated to my room.

Footsteps followed almost immediately. Before I reached my own door, I turned back. I knocked lightly on his frame. He opened it right away, sweatpants tugged up hastily but not fully tied, chest still bare and heaving a little.

“I’m sorry,” I said again. “I didn’t mean to barge in.”

He smiled, shook his head. “It’s fine. Hope I didn’t scare you. Everyone jerks off, right?”

I laughed. “Yeah. We all do.”

He leaned against the doorframe. “Got worked up drinking with the guys, figured I’d finish alone since you weren’t back yet.”

“I really didn’t mean to interrupt. But… can we talk for a second?”

“Of course.”

I stepped closer. “Was it gay porn?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

He exhaled, ran a hand over his beard. “It’s been on my mind lately. Thinking I might want to try things. With a guy. I didn’t want to say anything until I felt sure.”

I reached out, touched his arm. “I want you happy. Doesn’t matter who it’s with, man, woman, anyone.”

He pulled me into a tight hug and kissed my cheek firmly. “I love you so much. You’re such a good boy.”

The praise shot straight through me, cock hardening again in my jeans. He released me with another quick laugh. “Think I’ll go finish what you interrupted.”

I forced a grin. “Yeah. Have at it.”

He closed the door, and I headed toward the bathroom. But the combination of alcohol, the image of him stroking himself to gay porn, I couldn’t let the moment slip away. Desire overruled every caution. I turned around, walked straight back to his door, and this time I didn’t knock. I pushed it open and stepped inside.

Brock turned toward me, his sweatpants hanging low on his hips from where he had tugged them up earlier, the outline of his semi-hard cock was still visible against the fabric, and his bare chest rose with a quickened breath as he registered my unannounced return. I closed the distance between us in two strides.

I gathered every ounce of courage I had left and locked eyes with him. “Have you thought about it seriously, fucking a guy like the one in that video, bending him over and taking him just like that?”

“Yeah, I have. It pops into my head often now when I jerk off alone at night or in the shower. I keep imagining what it would feel like to be with a man, to touch him, to push inside him and see if it hits different than with a woman.”

“Is it different? You want to know for sure?” I asked.

“Tell me how.”

I stepped even closer, my chest brushing his arm. “It’s different in every way you can think of, from the way a man’s body responds to touch, to the strength in the grip, even starting with the hands. Guys usually have bigger, stronger hands that know exactly how to handle another cock, how much pressure to apply, where to twist for that extra edge.”

I reached down without another word, slipped my hand past the loose waistband of his sweatpants, and wrapped my fingers around his cock, feeling it surge to full hardness almost instantly under my touch. I started stroking him with confidence, even pulling, base to tip and back again. His hips jerked forward into my fist as if chasing the sensation, and the sound alone made my own cock throb painfully against my jeans, I thought I might explode just from the thrill of finally holding him like this.

I kept up the rhythm, varying the speed to keep him on edge, faster for a few strokes, then slower to tease the underside with my thumb and he reached out to steady himself on my shoulder. Then his free hand moved to my waist, tugged at my belt buckle until it gave way, unzipped my jeans, and pushed them down along with my boxers just enough to free my erection. He wrapped his large palm around my shaft and mirrored my motions, stroking me from root to crown with a grip that knew precisely what another man needed, sending waves of pleasure crashing through me.

I moaned in response as his thumb grazed the head of my cock, collecting the precum there and using it to slick the way down. He shifted his stance, guided me backward until my knees hit the edge of the bed, and we both tumbled onto. He climbed over me fully, straddling my thighs with his weight pinning me down, his bare cock slid freely against mine in our mutual grips.

“If you don’t stop that,” he whispered, “I won’t care anymore that you’re my son’s best friend. I’ll just take what I want.”

I tightened my hold on him, sped up my strokes until his hips bucked wildly. “I’ll always be the same guy. And this, us having fun like this, touching each other, it feels right, doesn’t it?”

He thrusted harder into my fist, his cock aligned perfectly over mine as he straddled my legs. He tensed, and then he erupted, his cum shot in powerful spurts across my chest, my neck, and splattered on my chin and lips with warm, salty ropes. The sensation of my Brock cumming all over me like that pushed me to the brink.

He didn’t pull away or hesitate once he finished. Instead, he scooped a generous amount of his own cum from my stomach with his fingers, smeared it along my shaft for added lubrication, and resumed jerking me off. The added slipperiness and the sheer taboo of using his load on me sent me spiraling; I arched off the bed, cried out, and came hard, spilling thick streams over his hand and my belly, mixing our cums in a sticky mess that coated us both.

“Oh god,” he gasped. “That turned me on more than anything.”

He collapsed forward then, lowering his full weight onto me despite the cum smeared between our bodies, and nuzzled into my neck, he left kisses along the column of my throat, up to my jaw. His beard scratched deliciously against my skin while I wrapped my arms around his back to keep him there. 

Eventually the pressure on my chest made breathing a challenge, so I nudged him gently. He lifted up with a reluctant groan, rolled to the side, and helped me sit up. We stripped off the rest of our clothes and padded naked to the bathroom, where he turned on the shower to let the water heat up. We stepped under the spray together.

When we dried off and made our way back to the hallway, towels wrapped around our waists, he pulled me into another embrace outside my door. He held me longer than necessary, his hands roamed my back.

“I enjoyed that more than I thought possible,” he said. “We can do it again sometime, be wank buddies, keep it casual between us.”

I stepped out of the bathroom and toward my room, ready to collapse into bed and process the night alone, when Brock reached out.

“Where are you going, champ?” he said, tugging me back toward him. “We just jerked each other off like that, shot all over each other, and you think you’re gonna sneak off to your own bed? No way. We’re cuddling tonight. Get in here.”

I let him pull me into his bedroom without resistance, the towel dropped from my waist as I followed him. He kicked his own towel aside, climbed naked onto the mattress, and held the sheets open for me as I slid in beside him. The bed dipped under our combined weight; he wasted no time pulling me close, one arm sliding under my neck, the other wrapping around my waist to haul my back flush against his chest. 

His legs tangled with mine immediately, knees nudging between my thighs while his softening cock nestled comfortably along the cleft of my ass. He buried his face in the crook of my neck. I drifted off wrapped in him.

To be continued...