“Daddy, I’m home!” Sammy said, shutting the door behind him. He dropped his backpack by the door, took off his shoes, and then started pulling off the rest of his clothes as he walked through the house, towards the TV den. “Sorry I’m home late daddy, traffic around the university was a nightmare.”

He stripped off his pants as he entered the den, where his daddy was on the couch, longways on his forearms and knees–where he was required to be as soon as the clock his 4:30 and his boy might be home. He had three dildos balanced across his flat back, and a tub of crisco at the top of his ass. He was sweating slightly from the exertion of holding the position, but nothing had fallen today. Too bad–Sammy had felt his daddy was getting too cocky lately, so he’d have to devise something else to knock him down another few pegs. The three dildos were sizable, but none were as large as Sammy’s ten inch cock, which he released from his underwear, half hard and already leaking. Sammy had banned toys bigger than his tool from Daddy’s house–but perhaps it was time for Daddy to take something larger than even his cock.

He went through their usual routine. Daddy kissed his cock and thanked his boy for choosing him as his daddy–said through gritted teeth, as always. Still, he said it–he’d learn to like it eventually–they always did. Sammy had only been training this daddy for a few months, since arriving here to attend school. Daddy had tried to pick him up at a bar, but had ended up on the receiving end instead. After paying tribute to his boycock, they started on the dildos. Daddy tried not to let on how good it felt, having his hole plugged, but like all of them–the more they had their boy inside of him, the more they needed to be filled. The poor daddies he’d left back home when he’d left for school–miserable, desperate creatures, all of them. He’d made them all life sized casts of his cock as souvenirs, but nothing could match the real thing.

Finally, after all three dildos in sequence, Sammy slid into his hole with no resistance. Daddy tried to fight back, but after two thrusts he was gone–his cock spewing cum, eyes vacant, drool flowing from his mouth as his boy rode him. Perhaps it was time to branch out–this daddy, he was thinking, could be a fist daddy. And so the boy started speaking to him in his trance, telling him that he’d always want his boy’s cock, but also his boy’s fists–and the fists of any man his boy took a liking to. Yeah, when daddy has to beg men at the bar Friday night to fist his hole, Sammy had a feeling he wouldn’t be feeling so cocky anymore.

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