“Oh dang, Uncle Blake, dinner looks amazing!” said Zach as he dished up his plate.“Uncle?” repeated Brad, raising a quizzical eyebrow at Zach.
“I’ll let it grow on you…” grinned Zach, turning his attention to the mound of food on his plate
“Wow, someone is hungry!” laughed Blake, admiring Zach’s appetite.
“Sorry, guys, I haven’t had food that smelled this good in a long time…” mumbled Zach between mouthfuls “I’m used to mac-and-cheese and pop tarts. Dinner tonight is like eating at a gourmet restaurant.”
“Easy, you’re going to inflate Blake’s head so much he won’t be able to fit through the door…” chuckled Brad.
After about an hour every plate had been licked clean, and the conversation was winding down.
“Okay, you two, time to clean up the dishes and kitchen, since I cooked…” announced Blake.
“Let me take care of everything…” offered Zach. “You’ve both been more than kind.”
“If you insist…” shrugged Brad, settling in next to Blake on the sofa and pouring them both another glass of red wine.
By the time that Zach had finished cleaning down the kitchen, Brad and Blake were snoozing in each other’s arms on the sofa. Zach paused for a moment to take in the sight of Brad’s head nuzzled in Blake’s chest. He watched as Brad’s head went up and down with each breath Blake took. Zach reached out and touched both guys on their shoulders, startling them both.
“Guys? Sorry to wake you…” apologised Zach. “I’m just off to bed. Maybe you should go too?”
“I think you’re right…” yawned Blake. “Come on, Brad, bedtime. Night, kid, sleep well. Let us know if you need anything.”
Once in their bedroom, Brad and Blake peeled off their clothes and threw them on the floor before climbing into bed. They loved to sleep naked, especially in the summertime.
Blake wrapped his arm around Brad and smiled,
“You know, Zach is a good kid…” said Blake, wrapping his arms around Brad and pulling their bodies together. “Handsome as hell too.”
“Blake!” protested Brad. “We’re responsible for him — we can’t be fucking around with Zach, he’s off limits.”
“I know, but you have to admit he has a nice ass… and that chest!” grinned Blake.
“Okay, I’ll admit, he does have a nice ass… and chest also…” conceded Brad..
“Have you ever thought of having a houseboy, someone who can help around the house with chores, so it frees our time up?” suggested Blake..
“You mean help around the house sexually too?” asked Brad.
“That’s always been a fantasy of mine…” acknowledged Blake. “Having a younger guy in the house. Tell me you wouldn’t mind a hot young guy strutting around the house all day in a jock strap? A sexy young slutty guy that we could both have some fun with?”
“I’m not totally against the the idea…” admitted Brad.
“Not totally against the idea?” grinned Blake, reaching down and wrapping his hand around Brad’s thickening cock-shaft. “Feels like your cock is totally up for this idea…”
“Feels like our cocks are both in agreement on this one…” grinned Brad, wrapping his hand around Blake’s thick cock-shaft.
“You wouldn’t know how to handle a young slutty guy like that…” teased Blake, firmly jacking Brad’s cock.
“Why don’t you show me how it’s done?” challenged Brad. Blake firmly shoved Brad’s head down onto one of his nipples and Brad started going to town on it, licking and sucking, biting and chewing.
“Yeah… that’s it…” encouraged Blake. “Love it when you chew on my tits…”
“You’re being too soft on this boy…” growled Brad.
“Yeah?” grinned Blake. “Why? What would you be doing to him?”
“I’d be straight into his tight little boy-cunt…” growled Brad, flipping Blake over spreading his muscle-hard ass cheeks to expose Blake’s hairy fuck-hole.
“Ugh…” moaned Blake, as Brad’s mouth made contact with his fuck-hole. “Damn, I’ve missed your tongue back there! Fuck yeah… Eat that muscle-cunt!” Brad spat and licked and chewed on Blake’s fuck-hole, pushing his tongue deep inside, feeling Blake’s muscle-cunt getting wet, getting loose, getting ready.
“You ready for my cock, stud?” asked Brad, pushing his fingers into Blake’s spit-slick fuck-hole.
“Hell yeah, shove that bad boy in there…” urged Blake, bending his knees to give Brad maximum access. “it’s been too damn long. I need some Brad cock to breed my man-hole.”
“So fucking tight…” grunted Brad, driving his cock into Blake. “I need to fuck you more often to keep that hole opened up.”
“Less talk and more fucking…” instructed Blake.
Usually, Brad played the bottom role since he was smaller in stature and loved being controlled in bed by Blake’s hard, brawny body. However, the talk about houseboys, as well as seeing Zach shirtless and covered in sweat, had ignited a spark in Brad that Blake hadn’t seen in a very long time. Brad was pounding Blake’s fuck-hole with long, powerful fuck-strokes, and Blake was loving every inch of it.
When Blake was good and opened up, Brad pulled his cock out of Blake’s ass. He lay on his back and grabbed his cock with his right hand to make it stand straight up.
“What are you waiting for?” ordered Brad. “Hop on, fucker, you’re going to ride this cock!” Wasting no time, Blake climbed on top and sat down on Brad’s cock with ease. Brad had a perfect view of Blake’s chest, glistened with sweat as he rode up and down. Blake leaned his head back in ecstasy as he enjoyed every minute of the ride. As Brad thrust deeper, Blake grabbed his own cock and started stroking it. Brad had a great view of Blake’s cock beginning to drip pre-cum. He imagined fucking the cum right out of him.
“Keep doing that and I’m going to blow a big load in your ass…” grunted Brad.
“Oh yeah?” grinned Blake, increasing the intensity of his ride. Blake suddenly lost it. “Ah, fuck!”
Cum started firing out of Blake’s cock, stream after stream hit Brad’s face and lips. Brad quickly stuck out his tongue and began to lick Blake’s hot jizz from his lips.
“Get ready, fucker, here comes a big cum-dump in your ass!” announced Brad.
“Seed my ass, fucker!” encouraged Blake. Brad was so turned on, he tensed up and started filling Blake’s ass with load after load of his hot cum.
Blake finally collapsed on top of Brad’s cum-soaked chest. He scooped some of his cum off Brad’s chest and fed it to him. Grabbing a bit more, he spread the cum all over Brad’s lips and then went in for a deep kiss.
“Mmm…” Blake muttered while tasting his sweet load all over Brad’s lips. “Someone made a mess!” Blake went down without hesitation and started to lick his load off of Brad’s chest.
“Fuck, that was hot!” exclaimed Brad as Blake finished up the last drop of cum from Brad’s chest and face.
“I think that was the hottest sex we’ve ever had…” Blake said as he laid his head on Brad’s chest.
“I think you’re right…” laughed Brad. “You don’t think we were too loud, do you?”
“I kind of hope he heard us…” grinned Blake. “Let him know how real men fuck… Let him know what we’ll do to his ass if he keeps wearing those tight shorts…”
“Keep dreaming…” laughed Brad. “Don’t forget, the kid is off limits!”
Can I call you Uncle?
We’re currently serialising the story. This is the sixth instalment — read earlier episodes here.
We want to hear your opinion
“Why are you limping?” asked Hamish, as he met Charlie for drink after work. They met in Howl At The Moon – it was busy with the after-work crowd.
“It’s a bit embarrassing…” mumbled Charlie, taking the pint of Guinness that Hamish had bought for him.
“A fisting accident?” asked Hamish.
“Nothing like that…” dismissed Charlie. “I’ve got a new job.”
“That’s great news!” said Hamish. “Why is that embarrassing? How is this related to you limping?”
“Um… well, I’ve taken a job with Sweatbox…” explained Charlie.
“Sweatbox?” repeated Hamish. “Sweatbox in Soho? Sweatbox the sauna?”
“Yes, exactly…” nodded Charlie. “They’re renovating at the moment. They called me in for what I thought was some training before they re-opened, but it turned out that the place is still a total building site so I spent the day lugging heavy boxes up and down stairs. Obviously, I’m not really used to manual labour, so now everything hurts. Everything.”
“Back it up…” said Hamish. “What do you mean you’ve taken a job with Sweatbox? What sort of job?”
“Um, just a general kind of team-member job…” shrugged Charlie.
“What the fuck?” laughed Hamish. “Why would you take a job like that? Are you that desperate for money?”
“Pretty much…” nodded Charlie, taking a long drink from his pint of Guinness. “It’s not just that – I thought it would be good for my writing and stuff, but mostly it’s for the money.”
“You are full of surprises…” grinned Hamish. “Wait, isn’t that going to be kind of awkward if I go to Sweatbox and I see you working there?”
“Why would that be awkward?” asked Charlie.
“Because I’m going to be in a towel, about to get my rocks off, and you’re going to be swishing around with a mop and bucket!” exclaimed Hamish. “It’s going to kind of kill the vibe a bit if I know that it’s you who’s going to have to wipe up my cum.”
“When you put it like that, it is a bit awkward…” agreed Charlie. “How often do you go to Sweatbox?”
“Not that often…” shrugged Hamish. “But probably more than you might expect. When do you start?”
“Not sure, to be honest…” replied Charlie. “I think they’re hoping to have it all open by the start of February. Anyway, how was your day?”
“Not bad…” said Hamish. “I spent most of my time working on Brexit-related stuff. Then, this afternoon, I had a meeting – I guess he’s technically my client, but he feels more like my boss. Without the money I get from him, I wouldn’t be able to pay my bills.”
“He’s definitely your boss…” decided Charlie. “How did the meeting go?”
“I don’t know, it was weird…” shrugged Hamish. “He just kept saying how tired he was. How stressed he was. I’d gone in there thinking that I was pitching for more work and more money, but he just spent 30 minutes talking at me, telling me things that I already knew. After 30 minutes, he stopped, like he’d run out of things to say. So I said, is there anything else that you need from me today? And he said no. Total waste of time.”
“That’s probably how Theresa May feels…” said Charlie.
“Do not compare me to Theresa May!” declared Hamish, slapping the palm of his hand down onto the bar to emphasise the point. “Are you going to be able to get me a friends and family discount at Sweatbox?”
“I don’t know, to be honest…” shrugged Charlie. “I guess so. They give free entry if you’re under 25.”
“Are you suggesting that I could possibly pass for being younger than 25?” laughed Hamish. “You’re as delusional as Theresa May!”
This is the latest episode of the serial, Hoxton Street.
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