I spotted him across the bar, thick shoulders stretching his polo, gray at the temples, that solid dad gut under the fabric. He clocked me right back, eyes dragging down my body like he already knew how my ass would feel around his cock.
Ten minutes later we were in his truck, his big hand on my thigh, squeezing hard.
"Name's Mark," he said, voice low and rough. "My boy's at college. House is empty."
I didn't need more invitation. We barely made it inside before he shoved me against the door and kissed me like he wanted to eat me alive. His tongue was thick and demanding, beer and mint on his breath. My hands went straight for his belt, yanking it open so I could get at the heavy bulge in his jeans.
"Fuck, kid, you're eager," he growled, pushing my head down. I dropped to my knees on the hallway floor and hauled his cock out. Thick, veined, already leaking at the tip. I licked the head clean, then opened wide and took him deep. He tasted salty and male, the kind of dick that had fucked plenty of holes over the years. Mark's hand clamped on the back of my head and he started thrusting, short and hard, using my mouth.
"Take it. That's it. Suck that dad cock."
I gagged when he hit the back of my throat but kept going, spit running down my chin. He pulled me off after a minute, hauled me up, and spun me around. My jeans hit the floor and his fingers were between my cheeks, rough and dry at first, then slick with spit as he worked two inside me. I pushed back on them, moaning like a slut while he stretched me open.
"Been needing this, huh?" he said, voice filthy. "Young hole hungry for a real man's dick."
He bent me over the arm of the couch and lined up. The first push burned, then gave way to that deep, full feeling as he sank every inch inside. Mark didn't go slow. He fucked me hard from the start, hips slapping my ass, one hand gripping my shoulder and the other reaching under to jerk my cock in time with his thrusts. The living room filled with the sound of skin on skin and my broken grunts.
He pulled out, flipped me onto my back on the cushions, and shoved back in. Legs over his shoulders, I watched his face while he pounded mesweat on his brow, teeth gritted, eyes locked on where his cock disappeared into my hole. "Tight fucking boy," he muttered. "Gonna fill you up."
I came first, shooting across my stomach while he kept driving into me. Mark followed a minute later, burying himself deep and pulsing hot and thick inside me. He stayed there, breathing hard, cock twitching as he emptied every drop.
We didn't stop at one round. He dragged me to the bedroom, bent me over the edge of the mattress, and took me again, slower this time but just as deep, whispering every dirty thing he wanted to do to me. By the time he pulled out the second time my legs were shaking and cum was leaking down my thigh. Mark wiped me off with his shirt, then pulled me against his chest.
"Stay the night," he said. "My kid's gone all week."
I stayed. We fucked twice more before morningonce in the shower, him holding me up against the tiles, and once with me riding him while he lay back and watched my cock bounce. Raw, loud, no holding back. When I left the next day my ass was sore and I already knew I'd be back.
Mark texted me two days later. "Boy's still away. Door's open." I went straight over.
