Not really a story, per se. Just a dad-on-dad sex romp based on a recent encounter with a good friend.
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Friday Night
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It was near the end of a long Friday at work when my phone alerted me that I'd received a text. The ring tone told me exactly who'd sent it; Charles. He's a cherubic little man in his early sixties I've been playmates with for a few years now.
"Fuck me, Daddy!" it read.
I smiled, knowing where I would be spending my weekend as I tapped out my reply.
"Been a tough week. Be ready and waiting."
I pushed send and got a mental image of him lighting up as he read it. He barely breaks five and a half feet in height and weighs over 250 pounds. His hairless skin is youthfully flawless and bright pink. His curvaceous, rotund physique is as soft to the touch as foam rubber inside freshly laundered linen.
He doesn't sport the kind of fat that sags and droops. Rather, his build is the kind that is so gloriously globe shaped you would mistake it for firm until you sink your fingers into it. Everything about him is full and lusciously round, and he exhibits himself with a sense of pride I find admirable and refreshing.
At twelve years his junior I stand a tad over six feet with the round-bellied build of a retired strongman competitor. As such I'm no stranger to men throwing themselves at me for sex only to watch them retreat into fears of inadequacy once we get naked.
I weigh a little over 300 pounds and I'm proud to say they're each one very solid. I worked like a dog for more than thirty years for every ounce of muscular bulk I could pack onto my frame before having to leave my weightlifting endeavors behind, so I make no apology for the way I present to others. But for the life of me I'll never understand why some men act as though they prize nothing more than the opportunity to bed a man like me only to crumple and withdraw when confronted with the reality of their desires.
I've never had to worry about that where Charles is concerned. He's a total bottom who's completely fascinated by our physical differences. The muscular hardness of my round physique is as striking to him as the softness of his is to me, and he's completely uninhibited in the boyish delight he takes in that.
To this day, in spite of the many times he's offered himself up for me to fuck through the years, once we're both naked he gushes over the masculine traits he admires in me as though he's discovering them for the first time. He always starts by straddling my furry thighs as I stretch out and plopping his Rubenesque pinkness down onto my lap to compare our cocks.
To be honest the size of my cock is something I've never given much thought to. Unlike my 'daddy bear' body, which I had to work for, Mother Nature simply handed me that. As for its size, it's always just been the baseline for my perception of what's big or small.
I've played with some that were longer and others that were thicker. It was only after I'd been out for a few years that I began to catch on to how few out-sized it in both dimensions. After nearly thirty years I can still count the number of those on one hand.
The first time Charles set eyes on it he immediately fetched a tape measure to satisfy his curiosity. It came up over seven and a quarter inches in length and broke five and a half inches in circumference at mid-shaft.
"Bruiser of a dick there! You can be proud of that one, alright!" he exclaimed and then broke out in a hardy laugh.
"What?"
"This!" he said as he pressed the end of the tape deep into his plush pad.
His barely broke four inches in length and didn't quite reach the four inch mark in girth. His little balls resided in a sac so tightly drawn, even at their most relaxed, as to almost not show when he was standing. He hefted mine up so that they spilled over the heel of his hand.
"A real man's man you are," he sighed with a lusty grin as he dropped them to knead his chubby little fingers in the curly hair on my chest.
And that's been the tone of our interaction for more than ten years now. I eyed my office clock and grew antsy, shifting to accommodate my hardening cock as I looked forward to being showered in his energetic affections. Taking care of the last detail, I cleared my desk and then headed home to put a bag together.
I arrived at his nice but modest home and let myself in. I still don't know how he came into his money but he's never had to work in all the time I've known him.
"Honey! I'm home!" I jested.
"Hi, Barry! Still flushing myself out," I heard him say from the bath in his bedroom, "Fix us a couple of drinks and I'll be right with you."
I set my bag down, kicked my loafers off and then went to the bar in his den to do as he'd said, mixing us two scotches with soda. Setting his drink on the table at his end of the sofa, I sat on the middle cushion and took my first sip. Soon he appeared in the doorway, naked as the day he was born, and jokingly struck a Marilyn Monroe type pose.
There's nothing feminine about him, in spite of his near total lack of body hair and curvaceous plumpness. His fatherly face is quite masculine and handsome; almost perfectly round with nice, full lips that turn up at the corners of his mouth even when he isn't smiling. He's bald as an eagle except for the little ring of hair that outlines his ears and the nape of his almost non-existent neck. His ears stick out just enough to give him the most boyishly cute look of innocence.
I looked at the pucker that hid his uncut 'boy cock', residing deep in his pad above the contour you could only recognize as his balls by the distinct line that runs down the middle of it. I laughed and patted the cushion between me and his drink. He sauntered over on his thick, shapely legs and dropped in next to me.
The true size of his balls only briefly revealed itself when he bent slightly forward before doing so. I slipped my right arm around his soft shoulder and pulled him into my grasp, lightly teasing the ear nearer to me with my tongue.
"I've missed you," he giggled as he settled in.
"Same here, handsome," I whispered as I let my hand roam down from his shoulder to give his plump right breast a firm squeeze.
"Mmmmmmmmm," he sighed as he snuggled against me, "Hope this means they're going to get a good fucking tonight."
"Before I get out of here Sunday I plan to see to it you get fucked from one end to the other...and all points in between," I confirmed as I gave his bright pink nipple, larger than any I've seen on a woman, a playful pinch.
"Perfect!" he giggled as he squirmed under my ministration, "Your beard's gotten a little longer. Starting to look like Santa. Looks good on you."
"Thanks."
We sipped our drinks and chatted a while, keeping him securely in my grasp and feasting my nostrils on the fresh scent of his corpulent nakedness. His left hand eventually found its way to my lap and rested on my expanding member.
"Feels like Bruiser's getting hungry for some action," he observed looking up at me with a playful grin, "Let's get you back to the bedroom and out of these clothes."
Using my knee and the arm of the sofa for leverage he rose to his feet and offered me a pudgy little hand to help me up. I accepted and let him lead me back.
He loves undressing me so I indulged him that pleasure. Slowly unbuttoning my shirt, he paused occasionally to run his hands over the protruding expanse of my torso as it gradually came into view. Once the last one was unbuttoned he slipped my shirt back off my shoulders. I caught it in my hands as it dropped and finished removing it for him.
Being the fastidious housekeeper he is, he neatly folded it and placed it on his dresser, then turned his attention to my trousers. He undid my belt and then unhooked my waistband. Next he slowly unzipped me and let them tumble down around my ankles.
Leaning into me, he began nursing on my pecs until he had my nipples and circumcised cock fully erect. I felt his fingers nimbly savor the hardness of it through my boxers. He sighed with contentment and then dropped to his knees before me.
He pulled them down until they joined my trousers and quickly wrapped a hand around my hard-on as it sprang free. Quickly milking a clear droplet of pre-ejaculate into the gaping slit, he began hungrily lapping it onto his busy tongue.
"Such a masculine taste you've got," he purred.
His desire for my flavor satisfied, he then freed my feet from their confines and helped me out of my socks. I helped him back to his feet and he folded my pants and underwear, then placed them on top of my shirt and neatly draped my socks over the stack.
Next he returned to his knees in front of me and peppered my rock hard cock with adoring kisses. I laid a hand on his bald pate and gently patted it.
"Good boy," I sighed.
He smiled up at me and then pressed his lips to my balls to vigorously lick, suck and kiss my scrotum. I slid my hand down onto the back of his head and pressed him to me.
"Oh, Daddy!" he cooed.
"Let's shower," I suggested.
He sat back on his heels and smiled up at me again. I helped him to his feet and drew him in for a playful, dry kiss. He melted into my embrace and then let me lead him by the hand to his master bath.
"Oh, I forgot my bag in your living room," I remembered.
He waddled off, his meaty butt cheeks seductively rolling as he vanished from my sight, and soon returned with it. I set it down on his vanity next to the neat arrangement he'd made of the implements he uses for his anal cleansings and fished my toiletry kit from it. He took my bag and left to go set it down beside his dresser, then returned to brush teeth with me.
When we were done brushing I drew him in for our first deep kiss of the weekend and nimbly worked my fingertips over his nub of a cock head, by then barely peeking out from his foreskin. He threw his soft arms around my neck and clung to me for dear life as I roughly tongue fucked his mouth. I reached my free hand around him and slid it up onto the back of his head to secure him to me. He offered no resistance.
I released him and he started the water in his walk-in shower for us. Once it reached a temperature he found acceptable he stepped in and invited me to join him. I slipped through the door and closed it securely behind me.
He stepped toward me and wrapped his arms around my chest, hugging me tightly as the shower head rained down on us. I grabbed the soap from the dish and lathered his back before enfolding him in my arms. When the water had rinsed him of it I slid a hand down onto his butt and sank my middle finger into his hole to the first knuckle. When I pulled it out I brought it to my nose and deeply inhaled.
"Ah-h-h-h-h! Clean as a whistle!" I said and playfully swiped the end of his nose with the offending digit.
