My Friend Dylan
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Concordo. Ainda não vimos penetrações do Brad no Dylan.
Não pare, por favor...
You asked for it...Because this chapter exceeds the character limit, I have to post it as two messages.
I hope you enjoy!
My Friend Dylan
Part 6A
The following weekend it was more summer like outside, and Dylan and I were spending Saturday at his pool. We were spending the afternoon hanging out on lounge chairs sunning, going in the water and splashing around, engaging in some frisky horse play, and then coming back out of the water to lay on the chairs again. Dylan’s family was around now and then. His younger siblings were in and out of the pool. His Mom came around to give us food, and Brad was making some cameo appearances every once in a while. I know he was really just there to check us out. I kind of got off on the fact that he could look, but not touch, since everyone else was around. Dylan got in a few good wisecracks whenever he could, at one point telling his dad, “two young slippery guys in a pool. You love that, don’t you?!” That made Brad nervous. He would look around to make sure no one else heard Dylan’s wisecracks, and he told him, “Dylan, shut the fuck up!” Dylan would just laugh and carry on. It was really pretty comical, and strangely hot all at the same time.
A little while later, Dylan’s mom announced she was taking Dylan’s younger brothers to the beach and asked if anyone else wanted to come. Dylan and I looked at one another in the pool and smiled, because we knew if we stayed that a wild afternoon was on deck. He asked me in front of his mom, “Mike, what do you think, stay in the pool, or go the beach?” I got nervous and just said, “it’s whatever you prefer, Dylan.” Dylan looked around to see if his dad was there and noticed he was standing by the grill anxiously awaiting our decision. Then he answered his mom, “I think we’ll stay in the pool for now. Maybe we’ll come down to the beach later on.” Dylan’s mom was satisfied with that, and said, “sounds good, sweetie.” Then she turned and asked her husband, “what about you, honey?” Brad answered, “yeah, I’ll stay here and keep an eye on these two. If they decide to come to the beach after, I’ll come with them.” Dylan’s mom replied, “perfect. I’ll see you guys later on.” Then, she said to Dylan’s little brothers, “come on, boys, ready?” And, off they went.
Brad waited around to be sure they were long gone, and then he came back over to the pool, looking very mischievous. He definitely had some ideas running through his head. He looked at me and said, “Mike, you notice what a wiseass Dylan is?” I knew I had to agree with him, so I said, “yes, I guess I do, Brad!” He smiled and nodded, saying, “you know what I think? I think Dylan needs a good ole fashioned spanking over my knee before he goes off to that fancy, expensive Ivy League school in the fall.” Dylan and I looked at one another and smiled. We knew we both liked the sound of that idea. Brad looked at Dylan and said, “what do you think? Do you need a spanking over my knee?” Dylan smiled and said, “yeah, you know what, I probably do.” I started getting hard right there in the pool in my swimsuit.
Brad told Dylan, “then why don’t you get out of that pool and come over to there to the lounge chair.” Dylan looked at me and said, “come on, let’s go!” So, we got out of the pool, dripping wet, all of us visibly hard, and walked over to the lounge chairs.
Brad was sitting on the lounge chair and told Dylan, “take those soaking wet swim shorts off, and lay over my knee.” Dylan smiled and peeled off his shorts without any hesitation. His cock was rock hard and point straight up, almost. Brad said, “look at that, you’re about to get your ass beaten in front of your friend, and your cock is rock hard. You really are fucked up, aren’t you?” Dylan — always quicker than his dad with the comebacks and the remarks — replied, “maybe, but you’re the dirty old man who wants to get in his teenage son’s pants while his best friend watches. Most people would think you are way more fucked up than me,” and he laughed as he climbed over his dad’s legs and lie down kind of diagonally across him totally nonchalantly, but his cock completely rigid.
Dylan was quite a sight to behold: his body was so firm and taught from playing lacrosse. His thigh muscles were impressive, and his ass was just a perfect, firm peach. With his skin all wet from the pool, the sun glistening on his golden blonde body hair, he truly looked like an Adonis out there by that pool. His sandy blonde hair wet in ringlets, flopping to and fro, and his impressive cock, hanging low, and swinging like a pendulum in front of his two plump balls. It almost hurt to look at him, he was so beautiful.
Brad had told me to sit on the lounge right next to the one they were on, and he was just rubbing his hands over Dylan’s wet ass cheeks, caressing them with his palm. Dylan was looking pretty relaxed, really, enjoying the sun on his back and ass, and the feel of Brad’s gentle hand. He looked over at me with wide eyes and smiled. Then, without any warning whatsoever, Brad brought his hand down swiftly on Dylan’s ass with a hard crack. Dylan wasn’t expecting it, and he shouted, “mother fucker!” Brad laughed and said, “language like that will only get you more!” and he quickly gave Dylan a second very hard spank. The sound of that crack of hand on Dylan’s wet ass was astoundingly loud. I think Brad realized that doing it to Dylan’s wet skin would amplify all of the effects. Dylan was vocal, but smiling the whole time. He definitely fucking loved it. Brad pulled Dylan up by his side to check on his cock, and sure enough, Dylan was still rock hard, and his cock was dripping. Brad told me, “look how hard he is. He fucking loves it!” I just smiled and said, “sure looks like it to me, Sir!” Brad loved it when I called him “Sir” in that moment. He nodded and said, “good boy.” Then, he gave Dylan’s perfect ass another good crack with his hand, “WHACK!” Dylan actually replied, “oh, yeah!” He was loving it!
Then, he rolled Dylan over to inspect his cock. His eyes were large as he commented, “Jesus Christ, Dylan. How big is your cock, anyway?” Dylan just chuckled and said, “it’s six inches.” Brad scoffed at that, and said, “no way, Buddy. It’s a lot bigger than that.” Dylan blew it off, saying, “well, whatever. Maybe it just seems a lot bigger to you because yours is so much smaller.” Brad didn’t like that very much, and he told me, “Mike, let’s settle this once and for all. Go in the kitchen, in the drawer under the coffee maker. There’s a tape measure in there. Bring it out.” I immediately obeyed, mainly because I also wanted to know how big Dylan’s cock was now.
Completely naked, I ran in the house, got the tape measure, and came back out. Dylan was lying on his back across his dad, his cock standing straight up, and Brad stroking it lightly. I handed him the tape measure, and he extended it to get to the bottom of this “mystery.” Astoundingly, Dylan’s cock came in at a solid eight inches!” Dylan didn’t even really believe it, and he was kind of dismissive of the measurement, saying, “I don’t think it’s that big.” Brad just chuckled and said, “well the tape measure don’t lie. Turns out my son has BWC!” Dylan said, “whatever, so now we know. Let’s see what you guys’ve got.” Dylan rolled off Brad, and took the tape measure from him, saying, “who wants to go first?” Brad and I were both totally stout, and willing to let Dylan measure, of course. Brad said, “measure me up, son.” Dylan reached down, took Brad’s dick in one hand, and the tape measure in the other. He gave it a few strokes to be sure Brad was fully hard — to give him a fair shake at this — and then announced, “it’s a mere five inches. Sorry, Brad!” Brad laughed a little, but didn’t really respond other than that. He told Dylan, “Ok, find out what Mike’s working with.” Dylan told me, “come here.” I stood up in front of him, and he got down in front of me, and gave me the same courtesy of a few good strokes to be sure I was as big as I get, and gently put the tape against my dick. Then he said, “ok, well, you’re the one with the six inches. Nice. I win. By a long shot. Sorry. Not sorry. Hahaha!” When Dylan took the tape measure away from my dick, he took my dick in his mouth and gave it a quick suck, and then licked his lips. One more time, he said, “nice.”
Then Brad said, “so, what do you guys think, does Mike need a few good smacks on that ass?!” Dylan smiled widely and said, “oh, he definitely does! He’s been a very naughty boy!” Dylan looked at me with huge eyes, and told me, “get over my dad’s knee, you little faggot!” I was nervous, to be honest. I didn’t expect it, and, I didn’t think I would enjoy it the same way Dylan seemed to. I was sure it was going to hurt. At the same time, I knew I didn’t have a choice. And, the thought of Brad spanking me did make me really hard. Both Brad and Dylan pointed that out, Dylan exclaiming, “look how hard he is! He wants it!”
Brad got back on the lounge chair, looked at me, and instructed, “haha, assume the position, Mike!” I complied. It was my turn. I accepted my fate.
Just like he did for Dylan, Brad took a few minutes to caress my ass with his palms. My ass wasn’t nearly as defined as Dylan’s. It was just a normal ass, nothing special. It was still a little wet from the pool but not like Dylan’s was when he got spanked. Then, out of nowhere, the first smack came, “WHACK!” Brad knew how to do it, that was certain. He knew all about the element of surprise. Just when you were enjoying the gentle caress, he broke it with a swift, hard spank. Dylan laughed as he watched. He saw the facial expressions I made as I went from pleasure to pain. Then, another hard spank, “WHACK!” After a few, Dylan instructed Brad, “roll him over, let’s see his dick, find out how much he’s enjoying it…”. Brad rolled me over, and Dylan remarked, “wow, he’s really hard. Look at that, his dick is dripping. Dylan reached down to get the drips of pre cum from my piss slit, and he put them on his tongue. “yum,” he said. “That actually tastes pretty good. Do you have more, let’s see.” He reached down and tugged on my dick a few times to work out some more droplets, then he brought them up to his tongue, and slurped them up, enjoying it. Again he remarked, “damn, I really like that.” He reached down a third time to milk out a few more drops, and the he took his fingers and put them in Brad’s face, instructing him, “yo, taste this.” Brad looked up at him, opened his mouth, and allowed Dylan to rub the pre cum onto his tongue. Brad tasted it, and swallowed, remarking, “that is nice. I’ve never tasted pre cum before. Nice. Really nice.”
We were all sitting on lounge chairs now, and Brad said to Dylan, “so, are you ever gonna give up your ass to me?” Wow, so there it was. Brad finally got to the point. It was only a matter of time, I suppose. Dylan smiled, looked at him, then at me, and then back at Brad and said, “yeah, probably. I’ll let you slide it in.” I don’t think Brad was expecting Dylan to agree quite so quickly. I know I wasn’t. Yet, we were all clearly ready for it, in the sense that we were all still completely and totally hard.
My Friend Dylan
Part 6 B
Part 6 B
Dylan laid on his stomach on his lounge chair, and spread his legs a little bit. Brad didn’t waste any time at all in getting over there before Dylan changed his mind. He got on the chair behind him, spread his legs open, and got down near his son’s eager hole. This time, Brad went for it immediately, pushing his tongue up against the perfect little blonde bullseye. Brad was making so much noise as he buried his nose in Dylan’s crack and his tongue right in his hole. Brad exclaimed, “Oh my God, that is heavenly!” Dylan was writhing a bit on the lounge, moaning pretty loudly. He turned around and asked his dad, “you like that? You like the taste of my asshole, don’t you?” Brad replied, “you know I do. I have been waiting for this moment for so long, imagining how good your ripe asshole must taste.” Then, Brad slipped a middle finger inside Dylan and worked it around a little bit, then withdrew his finger and offered it to me. I leaned in and sucked it, and did it taste good! He asked me how much I love the taste of my friend’s asshole, and I told him I loved it more than anything else. He smiled and nodded, and told me to tell Dylan that. So I did. I looked at my friend and told him, “Dylan, I love the taste of your asshole more than anything else.” Dylan smiled and told me, “you can feed me your dick while my dad plows me from behind.” That sounded like a great plan to me. Even though we were having a really hot time, part of me — I must admit — was jealous that Brad was allowed to share Dylan with me. I suppose I just wanted him just for myself. But, I knew I was lucky to be able to be with him at all. I understood that.
Brad kneeled down lower to make his cock at the same level as Dylan’s hole, and he pushed his dickhead into it. He got in very easily, probably for a number of reasons: his dick was not big, Dylan’s hole had been pretty well worked recently; and, everyone was so relaxed. There weren’t too many nerves left here.
Dylan took my dick in his mouth — all the way — and he was going to town on it from the prone position. He was grabbing my balls and giving them lots of attention, too. Brad was going pretty fast and pretty hard on Dylan’s hole, but Dylan was just enjoying it. He was cooing as Brad was pounding. I envied him yet again in that moment: a dick in his mouth, and another in his ass. I hoped I would get my turn at this in some combination at some point.
Seeing Brad hold onto Dylan’s hips from behind and slam his dick into Dylan’s perfect ass like that was driving me crazy. All the while, Dylan was gobbling my knob so readily. It occurred to me that I wanted to try to time it so that Brad and I filled up Dylan from both ends at the same time, and I managed to somehow gasp out, “Brad, let’s you and I fill him at the same time!” Brad could only nod his head in approval. He was really worked up, panting, sweating, and he was very red. I was getting close, and I know he was too.
Another minute or so, and Brad just looked at me and raised his eyebrows and nodded to me. I knew he was an instant away from busting. I looked down at Dylan doing his job and asked him, “Buddy are you ready for these two loads?” He just continued sucking and he nodded his head and managed to get out an “um hum” as he sucked. Just then Brad began convulsing as he let go inside Dylan’s hole, and when I saw the face Brad made, I let mine go right in Dylan’s mouth. We had achieved our goal. I was flooding Dylan’s mouth while Brad was flooding his guts. It was simply amazing. As we wound down, Brad slowly pulled out from Dylan’s hole, and I took my dick back from his mouth, and Dylan just put his head down on one side on the lounge and let out a huge sigh of relief. He was worn out, and with good reason!
Still, Dylan had not cum yet; and — Dylan being “King” — that could not stand. We all knew that. It went without saying. He took a minute or two just to lay there and enjoy his afterglow. We all did. Then, however, he stood up and announced, “Ok, my turn. Brad, assume the position, as you like to say.” Brad looked at Dylan quizzically, and asked, “what?” Dylan instructed, “get on your stomach the same way I was. I’m going to show you what it feels like to be fucked by a real dick now.” Brad hadn’t been expecting this, clearly. He did hesitate a little bit. Dylan looked at me and said, “you, with your huge balls, you can throat fuck him the same way you did me and feed him another load. I want to make sure he remembers what to do with it after last time.” Once again the powers had shifted. Dylan was back in control. I’m pretty sure I preferred it this way.
Dylan needed to tell Brad one more time, “Yo, Dad, lay down.” That time, Brad listened. He laid right down on his stomach, and spread his legs. Dylan was clearly not going to give his dad the same prep he had been given. He definitely wasn’t going to rim him. He did, however, lean in and land a nice glop of spit right on his hole, and then used his thumb to press it inside. After that, he climbed up, positioned himself, and announced, “ready or not!” and then plunged his cock right inside his dad’s hole, in one movement. Brad lunged forward and gasped. You could tell it hurt. Dylan looked at me and reminded me, “Mike, fill up his mouth. Make sure he does a good job. Make him work for your cum. I’ll make sure he enjoys it.” Then, Dylan got to work.
Vocal — as always during sex — Dylan began, “so, Brad, how does that big dick feel? I know you’ve been craving it for a long time. Is it as good as you imagined?” Brad turned his head around, looked up at his son, and admitted, “yes. It’s exactly what I wanted.” Dylan looked at me and told me, “shut him up with your dick now,” and then Dylan started really plowing Brad. I mean plowing. Relentlessly. Brad was making almost crying sounds as Dylan’s fat eight-inch member sawed in and out of his asshole. Dylan was not going to slow down or take it easy. He was going to pull this train into the station at full speed. Dylan told Brad, “if it hurts, just concentrate on Mike’s dick in your mouth. We’re both going to fill you at the same time like you did me.”
Brad took his son’s advice, and he really clamped down on my dick and started sucking it like he was doing it to save his life. It felt pretty god damn fucking good. I was getting really worked up not only watching my friend pound his dad like that, but also listening to him talk dirty and be such a boss. His confidence was fucking hot.
Dylan said, “how do you like being fucked by a real cock, Brad? Huh? You like that? Do you like me stuffing my great, big, fat cock in your asshole?”
Brad took his mouth off my dick for a second to respond, “yes, I fucking love it!” Dylan went on, “yeah? You like your teenage son fucking your asshole with his big white cock? Is that what you like, you fucking pervert?” Brad proclaimed, “Yes. Yes, God damn it. It’s what I fucking like. I fucking love it. Now, please fuck me like you mean it! I need it! I need it so fucking badly!”
That was all Dylan had to hear. He clenched his teeth and began to pound Brad’s asshole so fucking hard that the vinyl straps on the metal chaise lounge started giving way. One after another, they were snapping. Eventually, Brad’s knees were touching the concrete pool patio. It was really intense. Dylan started that growling noise that he makes, and I knew he was going to explode soon. That sound drove me as wild as it made him look and sound, and so it pushed me right to the point of no return.
Dylan and I looked at each other and nodded, and then we both flooded Brad from both ends. Brad began to sigh. We knew he was feeling Dylan bust in his hole, and he was receiving my load in his mouth and throat at the same time. Dylan commanded him, “Dad, you swallow his load. Every drop. Otherwise, no more fucking.” Brad gulped it down. He didn’t struggle with it this time. And when I was done shooting, he made sure to suck out the rest of the drops from my dick, and then really lick it clean as he lay there. Dylan started to remove his hefty member from his dad’s now ruined hole, and as he did, he commented on it, “Damn, Dad. Your asshole is wrecked. How did that happen? Hahah!”
Dylan told me, “Mike, come look at Brad’s hole.” I came around to discover it was true. It was all stretched out, and gaping. He was very red, and there was cum kind of everywhere, dripping out. Dylan took his cock, semi-stiff, used the head to push around the leaky cum back near Brad’s hole, and then back inside. He wasn’t about to let that escape and go to waste. As Dylan continued to work his cum into Brad’s broken hole, he chuckled and remarked, “haha, you’re going to spend the day walking around with my cum sloshing around in your guts. Fucked up!” Brad reminded Dylan, “you’re loaded up with mine just the same.” Dylan — always with the last word in these volleys — quipped, “yeah, but you gulped down Mike’s load like your life depended on it. Pretty gay!”
Brad was wincing as Dylan pushed the last of the escaped cum back in his hole, for his hole was in serious need of some recovery time. Brad looked around and said, “well, at least cleanup will be easy. We just have to jump in the pool. That’s about it. Rosa will be thrilled.” Dylan chuckled and said, “yeah, and how will you explain the broken straps on the lounge chair to Mom?” Brad said, “I’m not too worried about that. Teenagers horsing around by the pool. She should be thrilled that the only thing that happened were a few vinyl chair straps snapped.” Dylan laughed and then interjected, “yeah, teenagers horsing around at the pool, right. Thank God you stayed behind from the beach to ‘keep an eye on us!’ as he made air quotes. He continued, “Thank God you were here to make sure we behaved. Thank God you were here to protect us in case some dirty old man came out to the pool and tried to rape our teenage assholes, HAHAHA!!!” We all laughed pretty heartily at Dylan’s astute observations of the obvious, and then he jumped in the pool, and I followed. Then, Brad got up and jumped in. I added, “well, he only really raped your asshole. He only molested my dick.” Dylan laughed, “Haha! Wait, that’s right. You didn’t get fucked today. Are you feeling left out?” Truth be told, I guess I was. As we continued to frolic like three teenagers in the pool, Brad suggested, “we probably ought to go down to the beach and join your mom and your brothers for a while.” Dylan was quick to reply, “sure, I’m game, but I don’t think we better fuck each other at the beach.” Brad laughed out loud, and then so did I. Brad said, “yeah, we better keep the fucking for the pool,” and we all carried on about that remark. He went on, “so, Mike, how about if Dylan and I tag team you one of these days?” Without even thinking about it, I said, “yeah, sure!” That sounded really hot to me. Then Dylan offered, “we can D-P him too!” Brad and I looked at him, surprised he came up with that so quickly. I smiled and reminded Dylan, “you know I don’t say no to you!” Dylan smiled back and said to Brad, “did you hear that?” Brad smiled, nodded, and said, “yes, I did. You are very lucky.” I said to Brad, “I’m pretty sure I’m the lucky one.” Brad offered, “well, if it’s true you don’t say no to Dylan, then I suppose fucking at the beach is not out of the question. We all looked at one another in the pool, exchanging mischievous grins, and we all understood that nothing was off the table.
Uau! Isso se parece muito com o Dylan em que essa história é baseada!
