His first licks were tentative, like a kitten lapping at milk. I arched further, bending my waist so that more of my ass was within his reach. I could feel his mouth smile against my ass meat as I did. "Your hole's so delicious," he murmured, sliding a finger across my anal opening. I smiled and looked up at the mirror. There he was, his handsome face smothered in my milky goodness: his huge arms holding my thighs apart, down to his magnificent dad-bod still in his prime. My vision continued further down to where his own huge thighs met, at the downy root of his humongous cock, which was dripping precum resolutely onto his abs. I reached for my phone and took a photo, just as he was swiping a large swathe of his tongue across my perineum. I hissed, shuddering in warm, wet delight.
He was a difficult one to break. He was my closest friend's dad, and was all in all a happily married straight guy with a propensity for dad jokes, but it all changed when my friend confided in me that he heard his dad and his mom fight - of all possible things - about sex. Being eighteen changed me into a veritable walking erection so I asked him what the problem was. "Apparently dad was... er, too big down there," my hapless friend told me.
That was a major turning point in all of our relationships. Up until then I was the innocent kid from two houses over who came to his house for games and snack and the pool and shit. I saw his dad in a new light. A new, sexy light. I also noted his furtive glances at my nubile eighteen-year-old ass when he thought I wasn't looking. See, I had been told by the boys my ass was my best feature, could have turned a straight man should I want to. And apparently, they were right on the money.
