Drew was horny. This was nothing new for him, really, because Drew was always horny. He’d been horny for as long as he could remember. But Drew wasn’t quite like other perverts–no, Drew had always had something about him that made him…very special.
It had started with his father, when he was just a teenager. The burly man had always fascinated him, and played a regular role in Drew’s young fantasies. He’d been so innocent then, in some ways–but what he’d always wanted was for his father to…lust after him as well. It happened slowly, at first. Drew began to notice his father seemed to be…spying on him. Trying to catch him naked, trying to catch his son masturbating, stealing his son’s cumrags. Drew found it hard to believe…but the more he thought about it, the more true it became, until his father finally begged him for a load of cum–just like he’d imagined him doing the day before. That final year of living at home had been a year of…experimentation. Discovering what he could do, and who he could do–and he ended up doing most every man in the neighborhood, as well as the teachers at school. His father remained a favorite, however. Maybe it was time to pay him a visit, he hadn’t been home in quite some time, and his father always loved a chance to worship his perfect boy in person.
But no–not today. Often, Drew kept to himself. It was best that way, because he’d become so…powerful, that it was difficult to contain himself, once he got excited. Still, there was no rush quite like a hunt–and today, he felt like hunting. He threw on some cunstained clothes, headed down to the sidewalk, and decided to see what might interest him. He hadn’t been to the gym in a while, he supposed. He kept a membership, though rarely used it–he had never had much interest in working out, but it was a great opportunity to find some delightful men to play with.
He went inside, signed in, and headed right for the locker room, and found it sparse, without no one who really captured his interest. Still, he could wait. He sat on a bench in the corner of the room, behind a row of lockers, and masturbated idly for a few minutes, certain that something would come his way before too long. Sure enough, two young men entered, finished with their workout, and the scruffy one of the pair–oh, just seeing him drove Drew a bit wild.
Neither of them had been planning on taking a shower, but they made their way back there anyway. The sight of the chubby, slovenly pervert staring at them and jacking off should have disgusted them…but neither of them minded. Instead of taking a shower, however, the scruffy one got down on his knees while his workout partner stripped, and started sucking on his cock. He couldn’t break his eyes away from the pervert, however, no matter how hard he tried, and the pervert liked that.
The pervert liked it so much, his friend started spitting on him, calling him a faggot, and then shoved him up against the wall of the showers, fucking his ass, Scruff moaning and begging for more. Still–the pervert watched him, adored the confusion in his eyes. This would be a fun one–one to play with for a little while. His friend came deep, and then left. He was already forgetting about his friend, and Scruff collapsed to the tile, horrified by what had just happened to him, even as the pervert walked over to where he was. The scent rolling off his was strong–thick with cum, and it was…making him hungry, somehow.
He looked up at the pervert looming over him, a thousand questions running through his mind, but what came out of his mouth was, “Fuck, you’re a sexy looking fucker–wanna head back to my place for some fun?”
Drew liked that idea–but he was horny first, and so be made Scruff beg for another load from him before they left, and Scruff was more than happy to swallow down another load…but then again, he was a real cumpig, wasn’t he? It was hard to remember, but the straight, gruff jock he’d been when he’d walked into the locker room less than half an hour ago seemed so distant, and he felt like someone else. Someone he didn’t even know, to be honest. Drew came, Scruff swallowed, and then they left the gym, Scruff leading the way to his apartment. A…girlfriend was there, for some reason, but that wasn’t right. Scruff wasn’t dating anyone at the moment, and so he kicked her out, and once he was alone with the pervert again…well, things just seemed to…appear, as they needed them.
The poppers, first. Scruff kept huffing on them, feeling his cock throbbing harder and harder as the pervert fucked his ass, which seemed to be getting…looser, and the looser it got, the better it felt, to be honest. The pervert found the can of crisco in the dresser, lubed up a fist, and Scruff only had a moment of doubt before the hand was inside him, the pervert complimenting him on his technique, telling him he was one of the better fistpigs he’d found in the city.
Scruff kept expecting it to end. He would cum, the pervert would cum, but it only seemed to make the pervert hornier, and the look in his eyes–Scruff would be ready for another round before the pervert even suggested it. It was two days before the man finally left–Scruff looked around had his grungy one bedroom apartment, outfitted more as a sex dungeon than as a living space, before falling on the bed and at last falling asleep, still thinking about him, the perverts eyes still on him, still in him.
When he woke up, it was nearly night, and Scruff was horny as ever. He got dressed in some of his favorite gear–red and black, of course, threw his legs up, and took a pic.
He sent it to some of his favorite tops in the city–they all ran in the same circle as Drew, of course, but then, Drew seemed to know every perverse fuck in town. Before the hour was up, two men were inside him, Scruff was poppered up, and he knew it was going to be another great night to be a fistpig.
Bracken's Corner 