There’s a new set of short stories over on my Patreon page for supporters! If you’re already supporting me, you can go find all three of them here, and if you’d like to know more about what supporting me can get you, then you can take a look at my Patreon page! As a teaser, here’s the first story of three.
A Pipe for Daddy
“It was a deal actually, if you buy them new, it usually costs a hundred or two hundred bucks.”
“Would he want one that somebody else has smoked out of? That seems weird to me.”
Parker shrugged. “I don’t think he’ll mind, honestly. If anything, it’s a bit easier, because you have to put a lot of work into a new pipe, making sure you smoke it right the first few times, or something like that. A used one is easier, assuming it’s in good condition.”
His roommate, Robert, just looked suspicious, as usual. Pipe smoking was sort of a dying trend, Parker supposed–he only knew so much about it because his father, now widowed, smoked them all the time, and was always looking for new ones to add to his collection. Parker smoked them on occasion as well, but not with the same regularity–it was a bond they shared though, and Parker was thankful for it. He might give this one a test drive later, when Roger left for his usual date on Saturday night with some of the other guys.
Roger did think it was weird–smoking a pipe was for crotchety old men, right? Still, if that was the strangest thing about his roommate, then that wasn’t really much to complain about. As planned, Roger took off for the evening not long after that, and Parker settled out on the balcony of their apartment–where he could smoke according to the lease–packed the pipe with his usual blend, lit it, took a draw–and coughed. The tobacco didn’t taste right in it–not like the cheap blend he usually bought. Something richer, deeper, smoother. Parker took another draw, pulling the smoke deeper than he usually did, feeling the heat suffuse him, the smoke filled up crevices in him he hadn’t known existed. He didn’t cough once, just sighed out a huge plume and sat back, content with his pipe. Yes–his pipe. He couldn’t bear the thought of giving this one away, his…favorite pipe. No–why had he even entertained the idea? He kept smoking, his head growing foggy, floating, feeling the smoke slide deeper into him…but there was nothing wrong with that. Nothing wrong with anything.
He stretched out, unaware that his bones were snapping and growing longer and thicker, his body inflating with muscle and fat. The hair on his head began to recede, as a thick beard grew in across his face. There was a surge of horniness that made his cock spring to life–but he did have an inkling of modesty still. He…shouldn’t smoke in the apartment, but what did he care, really? He lumbered in, pulling off his too tight clothes as he did, and gripped his rock hard, eight inch cock, thinking about…about girls? No–not…not girls. His…his boy. Yeah, his son, where was the fucker? He’d gone out–fuck! He was just going to have to nurse this for a few hours until he got back–and then that fucker was going to get it.
Roger returned later that evening, frustrated and horny. He’d hit on a few girls, but none of them had been interested, which meant it was just going to be him and his hand tonight. Roger was strikingly handsome, but tended to be a bit crude and unruly–especially towards women–and so didn’t have much luck in that arena. He opened the door to the apartment, and immediately coughed, the thick smoke inside stinging his eyes and throat. Why was there so much of it? Parker only ever smoked on the balcony, but if the scent hadn’t been the sweet scent of Daddy’s pipe smoke, he would have thought something was on fire.
Wait, Daddy’s pipe smoke? Why had he thought that? He breathed the smoke in more, unaware that his breathing was calming down, his body relaxing.
“That you boy?” a voice called out from deeper in the apartment, “About fucking time you got home–thought I was gonna have to stay up smoking half the night.”
In the doorway to the kitchen a man appeared, smoking the pipe Parker had purchased earlier, but the man was not Parker. He was massive, easily six foot six, close to 275 or even 300 pounds and full of muscle, body covered in hair, with…with a huge cock erect, and pointing right at Roger–who couldn’t tear his eyes off his daddy’s cock.
He fought as best he could, but Daddy bent him over the kitchen table, tore down his jeans, and forced his way inside him–fucking his boy rough, just how he liked it. How they both liked it. The smoke was making it hard to think, hard to think about anything other than how horny he was for his daddy, forgetting all about those women from earlier. The only man he wanted was daddy, after all.
The next day–Father’s day–Roger and his father, Parker, loaded themselves up into the truck together and drove across town to visit Parker’s brother–a fellow pipe smoker. He didn’t have any kids of his own, and usually got lonely–but thankfully, Roger loves his uncle’s cock as much as his daddies–or at least he would soon enough. He was surprised, at first, when the strange, massive man appeared on his doorstep with a young man, saying he was his brother, and this was his nephew–but as soon as he caught the first whiff of Parker’s smoke from the pipe, he started to…remember a bit better. Inside, the rooms full of smoke, he remembered better and better, until he was balls deep in his nephew’s hole, inhaling smoke from his brother’s mouth–it was the best father’s day the new family had had in ages.
Bracken's Corner 