graybeards: graybeards: “You’re up late,” I stated the obvious as I walked into th
graybeards: graybeards: “You’re up late,” I stated the obvious as I walked into the kitchen. Phil was leaning over the kitchen counter and watching television, but he turned to face me. “Can’t sleep either?” He asked with a smile as he leaned back against the island. I’d seen Phil without a shirt on before at the beach, but there was something more intimate about it in this moment. As my eyes ran over his meaty chest, thick arms, and solid gut, I felt my heartbeat begin to quicken. I was so enraptured that I’d forgotten to even breathe. After a long pause, I took a deep breath and answered, “Emily hogs the covers.” Phil grinned and said, “So does Julie, but I don’t mind too much.” He took one hand out of his pocket and ran it over his furry chest. “I stay pretty warm without them.” “I guess you’d be easier to sleep with then,” I blurted out, and my face reddened immediately. He looked at me carefully and then slowly smiled again as he said, “Funny.” I saw his hand digging in his pocket, reaching over to grasp the bulge in his pajamas and adjust it. “But I’m a pretty aggressive spooner and these hands like to wander,” he said. “At least I’d be warm,” I said jokingly, but neither of us laughed. We just stared into each other’s eyes, wondering what the other was thinking. His gaze dropped, running down my smooth, slim chest to my pajama pants as he said, “You must stay pretty active to be so fit.” “I swim every morning and run on the weekends while Emily takes the kids to the park,” I reply. Phil took a step forward, carefully as if he were sneaking up on a skittish squirrel. He smiled and said, “I wish Julie would get some exercise in every once in a while. Not that I’m Mr. Slim.” He grinned and slapped his gut. “You like fit women?” I asked as I watched Phil slowly come closer. “Small women,” he answered plainly as he came to stand over me, nearly a foot taller than my 5′5″. He looked down into my skyward eyes and explained, “There’s nothing hotter than grabbing one by her little hips and putting her on my cock.” Phil dropped a hand to my hip. I recoiled slightly, but didn’t move to stop him. His hand was massive on me. He stared into my eyes and said, “I bet I could throw you around real nicely.” I nodded dumbly. He put his other hand on the other side of me and lifted me off the ground like I was nothing. We looked at each other closely, and then he started walking toward the second guest room with me in his hands as he said, “If they ask, we got drunk and didn’t want to wake them so we just passed out in here.” I nodded again and reached down to fondle his now-massive bulge. The tall man grinned and said, “Just wait until you really get him going.” He was huge, but he felt even bigger in my small hands. Phil and I had been friends for some time, but I had a feeling we were about to become best friends. I posted this part two of the story above, but with a NSFW photo, so I’m reposting them both here together.I rushed to my knees, noting the impatient tightening of Phil’s crossed arms, and started slurping away at the huge soft cock unfurled over the waistband of his briefs. My throat opened around his thick manhood as it hardened and reached deeper inside me. Tears streamed down my face as I gagged on him.I’d gotten much better at this, but Phil didn’t exactly show much appreciation. The imposing man towering over me wasn’t the friendly giant he’d once been.When Phil first carried me into that guest bedroom, I thought we’d become even better friends. When he stuffed his fat dick up my ass and made me cum without even touching myself, he had grinned from ear to ear with pride. Phil bred my ass twice in quick succession, coating my insides in his endless ropes of seed. When he was finished, his burly arms had pressed me against his broad chest all night, like I was precious.Now, though, Phil treated me like his bitch. Most of the time, he just made me blow him, but when he wanted to fuck, he’d silently pin me against the bed and fuck mercilessly until he was satisfied. Even with our wives, he’d started treating me like a servant: fixing his drinks, cleaning up his trash, and even rubbing his feet once. It was humiliating and I didn’t know what to tell my wife.But every time I came face-to-face with that cock, my intoxicating insecurities raged. I wanted—needed—Phil’s approval, and he was not an easy man to please. No matter what I gave him, he wanted more and I needed to give it to him. -- source link