The Eighth Day of Christmas

Five A.M. and Liam was up out of bed, grumbling and muttering as he started getting his suit on. These fucking unpaid internships–they were the only jobs he could seem to find these days, but all they seemed to do was string him along with possible job openings if he showed real dedication to the team, and then they’d still dump him at the end of the his contract. This was his second one, and thankfully his parents were footing the bill for rent, but maybe he actually had a shot this time…even if in meant having to get up and go into work at the office on Christmas.

It was only after he was dressed in one of his cheap suits that he realized he hadn’t even needed to get up that early at all–he usually got on the road early to beat the traffic, but there wasn’t going to be any traffic today. Hell, there wouldn’t even be anyone in the office today aside from a security guard or two. Certainly not his asshole boss, Marvin, who would be at home with his wife and kid, opening presents while Liam was busy finishing the presentation he would be giving to the board in a couple of days. It was ridiculous–Liam put more effort in at the job than Marvin did anyday, but he was the one getting paid nothing, and Marvin knew it. Still, if it meant landing a real job, it was worth it, right?

He left the bedroom and went into the kitchen to get some breakfast, but froze when he saw the fat, shirtless man scarfing down a pack of cookies and some milk from his fridge. “What the fuck?” Liam said, “How in the hell did you get in here?”

“Well, someone’s up bright and early!” Santa said, “And all dressed for work? Who in the world makes someone work on Christmas day?”

“I don’t–who in the hell are you?”

“Oh Liam, you already know the answer to that question,” Santa said, coming out of the kitchen towards the young man, “But you know what? You work too hard. How about I give you the chance to retire early, eh?”

Before Liam could step back, Santa had shot him with a ray of his Christmas magic, and the force was enough to send Liam stumbling back a few steps, but after only a step or two he felt something behind him, and he fell back into a cushy armchair that he couldn’t seem to remember owning. Still, it felt really comfortable, and he let out a sigh, giving his large apron a rub through the fabric of his favorite silk shirt, his tie knotted up under his third chin so he could feel his fat hang over the collar, and he took a long draw off his pipe, feeling more at ease than he had in years.

“Oh yes, that’s much better,” Santa said, looking at the obese old man in front of him, puffing on his pipe. Liam’s eyes still had a bit of confusion in them, and before he could forget his old self entirely, Santa gave a wave in the air in front of the chair, forming a large, ornate mirror out of nothing, and Liam gasped.

“What in the world!” he said, not even recognizing his raspy, deep voice, “I’m–I’m old!”

He couldn’t take his eyes away from his face, now deeply lined with wrinkles, a thick walrus mustache covering his upper lip and drooping over his mouth, the stem of his large bowl pipe sprouting out from it, puffing smoke. He had a pair of half moon spectacles perched on a bulbous nose, and what remained of his hair was little more than a thin horseshoe of white above his liver spotted ears. Looking around the room, he saw that his cheap apartment was gone, and he was in what appeared to be a huge mansion that he could vaguely recall living in…but this couldn’t be real, could it?

“Now, what should I get a new retiree like you as a present?” Santa asked, chuckling, “How about a new toy to play with in your free time?” He motioned to the fireplace, and a moment later someone fell out of it–Marvin, his old boss. “How about a nice, obedient cub for a perverse old grandpa bear?”

Marvin, coughing and unsure of what had just happened, stumbled to his feet, but something was wrong. He was…shorter? And had he always been this chubby? He looked over and saw his daddy smoking his pipe in his favorite armchair, and his heart started beating faster, as Liam sneered and pulled out his cock from a thicket of white pubes. He might need viagra to get it up, but once it was up, he could be hard for hours. “Should…should I go get a pill daddy?”

“I think so cub,” Liam said, “I think I know what you’re going to be getting for Christmas already…”

Marvin scrambled up and Liam watched his cub, naked as he liked in the house, scurry to the bathroom to retrieve the magic blue pill, and Liam looked around, feeling like there should have been someone else there…but who? No matter, he thought, taking a long draw on his pipe, a horny cub and a long retirement is all he really needed anyway.

The Fifth Day of Christmas

“Psst, hey–where’s the fucking milk?”

Gary groaned and felt a hand shake his shoulder, rousing him from sleep, and he found a wide shadow looming over him in his bedroom, and he let out a shout of surprise.

“Oh don’t be such a wimp,” the shadow said, and it flipped on the light next to them, and Gary found himself looking up at what had to be Santa Claus, although he’d never imagined his outfit might be so…revealing. “Look, I scrounged around and found some cookies,” Santa said, holding up the package of Oreos in his hand, “But all you have in the house is fucking soy milk–how disgusting is that?”

“I’m…I’m lactose intolerant–I never have milk in the house…” Gary said.

Santa did not look amused. “Hmmph, well I guess we’ll have to do something about that then, won’t we? Santa needs his milk after all, even if I have to make my own cow to get it.”

Santa pushed down Gary’s sheets and grabbed hold of both of his nipples, making him gasp in pain as the big man worked them over…and he could feel something happening to them as Santa twisted them–they were growing larger. Not just his nipples though–Gary had always been a thin guy, and as he watched, his chest started to grow and expand with fat, turning into heavy moobs in a matter of moments…and they ached. It was like they were balloons filled with too much water, and he saw that the thumb and forefingers on Santa’s gloves were wet with…something. “What–What are you doing to moooee?” Gary moaned.

Santa didn’t reply–he just licked his lips and started sucking on one of Gary’s thick nipples, and he felt his milk gush into Santa’s mouth. With a quiver, he realized that he was actually getting close to cumming, and he reached down to stroke his cock, but Santa beat him to it, stretching and kneading his cock and balls in his gloved hand, Gary shivering, mooing and moaning as his balls grew three times their original size, and they ached just as much as his milk filled moobs. Before long, cum was dribbling out of him at a constant dribble, soaking the sheets beneath him, and Santa–after sucking his first moob dry–moved onto the second, his hands massaging Gary’s stomach, growing a huge gut and fat pad which swallowed up half his cock, and when both his breasts were drained, Santa rolled Gary over, kneading his ass into two fat cheeks before thrusting his hard cock deep into Gary’s hole.

“Fuck, milk always makes me so fucking horny–it’s a good thing this fat ass of yours was made for plowing cow–feels fucking great,” Santa grunted out as Gary felt the last few changes overtake him–two short horns growing out of his temples, the rest of his body filling out with fat, and the overwhelming desire to feed. To feed men his manmilk, to make them addicted to it’s taste, and to watch them grow fatter, until they were obese or even better, immobile. Santa finally finished up his fuck, unloading a huge wad of cum into Gary’s ass, and the fat cowman let out a grunt of satisfaction, rolling back over and kneading his full tits, his cock leaking profusely.

“Fuck Santa, that was great—are you sure you don’t want to stick around and drink some mooore?” Gary groaned.

“Oh you slutty cow,” Santa said, slapping Gary’s gut, “Tell you what–why don’t you spend tonight milking yourself, and give samples to all of your friends? I’m sure you’ll have plenty of guys lining up for that milk of yours in no time. Me though? I gotta get going–places to go, gifts to give, you know the drill.”

Santa waved a large pile of glass milk bottles into existence next to Gary’s bed, and the cow did spend the rest of the night milking himself into them, excited to give them to all of his friends, so that before long they could all live with him, drinking his man milk, and growing bigger every day.

The Fourth Day of Christmas

It was the smell of smoke that woke him up in bed, and Marty thought something must be on fire. He got up and hurried out of his room, but there weren’t any flames in the living room–but there was smoke, and he saw that it was coming from a smoldering cigar on an end table next to the Christmas tree.

He just stared at it for a moment, not entirely sure what to think. He lived here by himself after all, and he wasn’t a smoker. In fact, Marty was pretty boring all around–he didn’t even have a girlfriend, didn’t drink, just went to work, came home watched TV, day in and day out, but that was good enough for him. He wasn’t the kind of person who craved excitement. But then where in the world had the cigar come from, and if it was still smoking like that, wouldn’t that mean that someone would have had to have been smoking it in here…recently?

He looked around the apartment but there was no one there, but the smell of smoke just wouldn’t leave his mind, and part of him really wanted to try it. He didn’t know why really–it seemed like such a dumb, impulsive thing to do–but the more he tried to resist, the more he found himself looking at the cigar, until he picked it up with a shaking hand, put it to his lips, and took a tentative drag.

The sensation of the smoke was overwhelming, and somehow…liberating. It was like the smoke worked it’s way inside of him, loosening him up, undoing the restrictions he’d placed on himself all of these years, and then he was coughing up the smoke, and set the cigar down, he head spinning. “Fuck, that’s some crazy ass moutherfuckin’ shit,” Marty said, using more curse words in one sentence than he’d used all year, and ran his hand through his beard.

His beard?

He felt his face again, and found a thick beard had grown in all over his face, nearly an inch thick, and looking down at himself, that wasn’t the only thing that had changed. He’d packed on quite a bit of fat as well, and he looked hairier as well.

“Ho, ho, ho–so I did leave my cigar here, eh? Looks like someone took a bit of an interest in it, eh Marty?”

He spun around and saw that the sexiest Santa he’d ever seen had somehow materialized in his living room. No, not sexy, what was he thinking? He’d never been into guys, but damn, the way the harness was stretched across his gut…“How–how did you get in here?”

“You know, you really shouldn’t go sucking on things that don’t belong to you. Still, since you started it, you might as well finish it, eh?”

Santa walked up to Marty and pushed the cigar into his mouth, and he reflexively took another inhale, the same sensation sweeping through him, undoing all of the control he’d worked into his life, and this time he drew it in deeper, before he managed to pull himself away from it. “Fuck, what the hell is in that thing? Makes me feel fuckin’ nuts,” Marty said, but his voice sounded different all of a sudden, with a subtle country twang.

“Yeah, that’s got you looking better already,” Santa said, “You should take a look Marty, I think you’ll enjoy it.”

Santa pushed Marty towards the bathroom, and when he saw himself in the mirror, his jaw dropped. His beard had grown longer by a couple of inches, and his hair had grown out as well, the front still short, but in the back it was down past his shoulders. He was even fatter and hairier than before, but none of this could be possible. “Ah don’, Ah mean, this can’t be right, Ah don’t wanna look like this…”

“Oh Marty, you really ought to lighten up–you think too hard, did you know that? You really need to appreciate the simpler things in life,” Santa said, spun him around so they were face to face, and locked lips with him, blowing a huge amount of smoke into Marty’s lungs, deeper than it had gone before, and when the separated, Marty felt like his whole head was full of cotton. He’d changed again, his beard and hair now not only longer, but greasy and unkempt. He was missing a few teeth, and the ones he did have were stained yellow from smoke, and he felt a wet fart rip out of his wide ass, but it felt good. It felt good just letting go, not thinking at all, except about how much he wanted in Santa’s pants. “Fuck Santa, yer so damn sexy…” he said, unable to resist the attraction any longer.

Santa had him on his knees in a moment, his cock shoved down Marty’s throat, and he knew there was something wrong with all of this, but he was just enjoying himself too much. When Santa finished all over his nasty beard, he let Marty take the final draw on the cigar, and he knew what he’d been missing. All this time he’d wasted working, he should have been on a Harley, riding around the country, sucking cock in every rest area, fucking truckers in the backs of their cabs–he’d missed so much! But no more. Santa helped him up, and Marty wasn’t naked anymore–he was wearing his muddy biker leathers, and when Santa handed him the keys to his bike and a few cigars, he grinned. He was just a cigar smoking, cocksucking, redneck biker now, and he’d never wanted to be anything else.

“Trey, you really need to take a rest man–you make me feel nervous just looking at you,” Bill said on the couch, “Why don’t you sit down and play a game with me? We haven’t had a shooter session in weeks, man.”

“Can’t, I gotta go to the gym or coach will bust my ass at practice tomorrow,” Trey said, throwing his duffel over his shoulder, “You know, you really should come with me, you were in such good shape in high school man, it would be a shame to let it all go.”

Trey and Bill had been friends since high school, and had been thrilled when they’d been accepted to the same college, but since the start of classes, they’d grown further and further apart. Trey had joined the football team and devoted most of his time to working out–Bill had decided to skip athletics, and mostly sat around the dorm playing video games, looking like a bit of a slob. Still, after his workout, when he’d returned to the dorm, he’d felt kind of bad for his jab at his friend, but Bill wasn’t around to apologize to. Still, maybe he should take a break and play a game for a bit.

He loaded up the shooter Bill was always playing, and soon he was engrossed–in fact, he completely lost track of time, and played the game all night long, only coming out of it early in the morning to discover Bill had come home and gone to sleep at some point, he had broken into his friend’s junk food stash and stuffed himself silly, and he’d…pissed his gym shorts? He put the game away and changed, trying to forget it, but he asked Bill where he’d gotten the game the next day, and Bill just smiled knowingly, and suggested they play it for a while.

They played for almost twenty hours straight, both of them stuffing their faces and pissing and shitting themselves uncontrollably. Before the next marathon session, Bill managed to convince Trey to wear a diaper like he usually did, and this time, Trey realized he’d even cum in the diaper multiple times. Worse, he couldn’t stop playing–neither of them could, and when they unlocked the online mode a week later, both of them spent weeks diapered all day with their headsets on, zoned out, listening to the daddies they were playing against tell them what good little boys they were, slowly turning into fat, horny babies, just like they’d always wanted to be.

The tattoo artist took one look at Lucas shaking in the chair, a scrawny eighteen year old kid getting his first tattoo, and just shook his head. “Man, I can’t put anything on your skin if you don’t sit still.”

“Sorry…I’m just nervous,” Lucas said, blushing a bit. He’d always wanted a tattoo, and it was going to be his present to himself for graduating from high school last week, before going off to college.

“Look, you want me to give you something to help settle you down?” the artist said, smirking.

“I don’t do drugs.”

“It’s not a drug, just something to keep you still.”

Lucas relented, and took the pill the artist handed him, but after a few minutes he stopped shaking. In fact, after a few minutes he couldn’t move at all–he was frozen in the chair, and the artist’s smirk was looking a bit more sinister, and he called someone on the phone and said, “Pass it on, we’re havin’ an auction tonight.”

The shop closed down for the night, but men were still filing into the room. Lucas was still frozen in the chair, and looking at the collection of tattooed bikers and trailer trash eyeing him up and down. He didn’t know what was going on, as the artist started the bidding, and a short older man with a big beard and long hair, covered in tattoos won the auction, and they started the consultation, planning what to do with Lucas’ tattoos–and his body.

By morning, the older man was dragging a very different Lucas out of the tattoo shop, his chest and arms covered in crude tattoos, his young slender body covered with fat, his hair long greasy and unwashed. His new daddy raped him for the first time in the back of the truck–well, it wasn’t really rape by the end, with Lucas begging him to plow his fat ass harder, and they drove home to the trailer park, the old daddy very happy with his new tattooed son.

Fuck, Russ almost couldn’t take it anymore, seeing Drew like that, his shirt off, growing belly hanging out, but he had to stay in control.

“Dude, what are you staring at my gut for?”

Russ yanked his eyes up to Drew’s face, where he could see his friend’s beard starting to fill in, and as he stared at it, it started to thicken and grow a bit denser, and he blushed and looked away. “Sorry, you just look…bigger…”

Drew didn’t look bigger–he was bigger, but Russ knew that of course. The potion he’d taken would let his gaze transform anyone he wanted, but it would only work until he and his target had sex–and he came. He should have invested in a chastity device or something, just to hold back, because the potion was making his libido rage out of control. It had only been an hour, and Drew had packed on 50 pounds, and was way hairier than he had been, and he hadn’t noticed a thing. Still, Russ wanted him bigger–hairier–butcher and tougher and rougher…

He needed something to calm his nerves, maybe some alcohol. The potion had said to not eat or drink anything for six hours before he took the potion, and to not eat or drink until the potion’s spell was completed, but one shot of something wouldn’t hurt, certainly. He excused himself and went into the kitchen, digging out some booze and taking a swig from the bottle, but his head immediately clouded up. The last thing he remembered was collapsing to the kitchen floor and seeing Drew rush over to him.

***

Russ woke up slowly. The headache pounding in his temples was one of the worst hangovers he’d ever experienced. He struggled up from the floor and went to grab his head, but found his hands were covered by some sort of mitt. Confused, he started to take them off, but stopped. Master Drew wouldn’t want him to do that–Master Drew wanted him to be a good pup.

“That you, pup?” A deep voice said from the bed, and he heard the creak of bedsprings as the massive man his roommate had become heaved himself up off the bed, over six feet tall and close to 400 pounds, and all master–his master.

This wasn’t right, he hadn’t wanted Drew to be his master, had he? Sure, he’d always liked bottoming, and he’d had a few fantasies…and Russ finally figured out that the alcohol must have lowered his inhibitions far enough that his subconscious had taken over the transformation. Still, he loved his big master, and Master Drew loved him, his pup–his slave. He nuzzled up against his thick leg, feeling his cock harden, and wondered what Russ might have in store for them today. Whatever it was, it would be good.

Are you never going to measure up to your goals? Do you worry that your life and future are just going to disappoint you? Then you should try Release Hypnosis! Here’s Sam’s story, whose life was much improved by our files.

Before Release Hypnosis, I was a wreck. I was in college, and excelling, but the stress was killing me. There was this pressure to succeed, it came from everywhere, from my parents, from my teachers, from my girlfriends, it was so much, I couldn’t handle it. If I hadn’t found Release Hypnosis, I might have actually made something of myself.

The effect was immediate. After my first listen, my school work just didn’t matter to me–it was so much easier just to lounge around my dorm room, eating and drinking and watching porn all day long. I just didn’t care–it was so easy! I listened to more and more from that moment on, and dropping out of college just seemed like the most natural decision. I found an easy job working construction, and I couldn’t have been happier. Well, or so I thought.

Release Hypnosis is still a big part of my life. I’ve been working on their empty mind series lately. Even after I stopped feeling the pressure to succeed, I still thought a lot. Now though, my head is so empty I can just zone out for hours in front of the TV, stuffing my face and jacking off all day long. The no-shame series was also recommended to me by the program. See, even after listening to the files, I’d always feel bad about the way I was behaving, and a bit ashamed of myself. Now though, I relish it. I love being a slob, a fucking loser, and I want everyone to know it. Fuck, I walk down the street without a shirt, showing off my filthy, hairy belly, and the looks I get from people get me so horny, I usually have to duck into an alleyway to jack off. I’d definitely recommend Release Hypnosis–it made a huge difference to my life, and I know it can make yours better too!

Lee and CJ were two roommates in a small apartment complex. They’d met during college on the football team, and both of them had ended up taking jobs with the same local firm after graduation, so they’d made things simple and moved in together, remaining workout buddies as well. Lee had just gotten home from a trip to the store, when he saw a small wrapped package on the doorstep, which he picked up and brought inside.

“Lee, did you see this?” CJ said, “Someone left us a fucking present.”

“Who?”

CJ checked the tag, “Bill–that fatass in the apartment next to us.”

“Oh, the cook?”

“Yeah,” CJ ripped the wrapping paper off and revealed two bottles with a small note.

Trying out a new recipe–made you two a homemade protein shake. Make sure you drink it right away, while it’s fresh. Let me know if you like it, I got plenty more.

“Some homemade protein drink–weird…” CJ said. He opened a bottle and took a sniff. It didn’t smell too bad, and he took a taste, and his eyes lit up. “Dang man, this shit’s kinda good!”

Lee came out and tried it as well, and then the two muscle men chugged them back, downing them as fast as they could, and then even tried to lick out the bottles. Lee looked at CJ, and unable to help himself, grabbed his roommate’s cock through his gym shorts–it was as hard as his was. CJ gasped, as Lee stroked him off, and then he did the same, both of them coming to their senses afterward, embarrassed and unsure of what had come over them. Still, while they tried to put the incident behind them, they couldn’t stop thinking about their neighbor’s drink, and that same evening they knocked on his door, planning to ask for more.

“More?” Bill said, grinning, “Sure, I got more. Come on in boys, I just made some.”

In his kitchen, he handed them two cups of the milk. They guzzled it down, and overcome with lust, they started kissing, grinding their cocks against each other. Bill stripped down, massaging his fat body, watching the two jocks’ guts bulge out and expand with fat as they jacked off, and came all over one another.

Panting and exhausted, Lee turned to Bill, “What the fuck is that shit?”

“Why, it’s my milk, of course,” Bill said, tweaking his nipples, and the two jocks could smell it, see the milk coating his fingertips, and then they were glued to his nipples, sucking the milk down from the source, Bill massaging their growing bellies, their full moobs. When they were full, both of them now over 300 pounds, Lee threw CJ onto the bed and started plowing his ass, Bill watching for a few minutes, before climbing up on the bed and shoving his cock down CJ’s mouth, Bill leaning over to keep sucking at Bill’s teat. His cum was just as fattening as his milk, and both boys swelled even larger, grunting and snorting, just a couple of fat pigs for Bill to play with–and feed, of course.

Adam didn’t know why he kept his membership here–this gym was a freakshow. Filled with faggots for one thing, most of them so roided up they could barely think straight. They, in turn, attracted the lechers, the fat old men who would pretend to work out on machines, and just ogle the muscle men throughout the room–it was disgusting. He was always careful to wear his cross–that seemed to discourage most of them from looking at him, at least. He’d gotten his fit body from the army, and liked to maintain it after he retired, but this was getting ridiculous.

It was late one night, after his workout, that Adam chanced a shower, since the room was empty. When he stepped out, however, he discovered that he wasn’t quite as alone as he’d thought. A towering man was waiting for him next to his locker, wearing just a jockstrap, muscled beyond belief–but he didn’t look like the other muscleheads in the gym. His eyes were intelligent–cruel even, and Adam clutched his cross, though he wasn’t entirely sure why.

Ah, Adam–I’ve been meaning to have a chat with you, but that silly bauble of yours has been such a bother–it’s been keeping you from seeing me for weeks now. Patrick was nice enough to defile it for me, at least.”

“What?” Adam said, stepping back, “Who–who are you?”

“I’m the owner of this club–and a demon. Tell me Adam, looking at me, what do you see?”

Adam wasn’t sure what to say, “You’re…you’re huge, I mean, more muscular than anyone else here.”

“Muscular? Really?” the demon laughed, “I wasn’t expecting that from you–looks like you’re more of a looker than a poser.”

“What?”

The demon started posing, his cock tenting and stretching his jockstrap tight, “What you see, is who you are, Adam. Am I a lecherous old voyeur? Then you’re an exhibitionist muscle god–but if I’m the muscle god, then that must mean you’re the lecher. So go on Adam, have a good long look–enjoy yourself.”

Adam tried to look away–but he couldn’t. His own cock was rock hard now, and he started stroking it as he watched the demon dance for him, tease him, flex for him. Everything that Adam could want in a man–everything that he wasn’t soon enough. His hair receding back and turning white, fat burying his muscles as the hours wore on, his cock red hot and erect the entire time, the demon ripping the cross off Adam’s neck as he came, the cross one of his muscle pigs had cum on in the locker room the day before.

Adam was there at the gym every day afterwards, ogling the muscle men, begging them to let him suck their cocks or fuck his loose asshole.

Milk, by Donald T. Oolong

It was sweet and rich, flowing steadily into his mouth. Need more. Kevin opened his eyes, saw strands of wiry brown hair, and realized he was lying atop another man, mouth clamped tightly on his nipple. He jerked up and got a glimpse of the man’s face.

“Ah-ah-ah! You’re not nearly done.”

A strong hand pushed Kevin’s face down while another held him firmly in place. The man’s body was muscular, with a padding of fat and hair that tickled Kevin as he squirmed back and forth. “My friends—“ Kevin gasped before instinctively lapping up the whitish fluid leaking from the man’s chest. The four of them stopped at this motel… Paul said he saw weird dudes in the lobby…a knock at the door and…white. Kevin struggled a few seconds more before latching back onto the nipple. He resumed sucking.

“Safe; they’re being suckled like you. You’ll see them again soon, and be closer than you ever thought possible.” The man tousled his hair reassuringly. And Kevin did feel reassured. There was no place he’d rather be than cradled in this huge, bearish man’s arms, nuzzling his downy hair and drinking this—milk?–that to flowed endlessly from his nipple. The man squeezed his ass.

“You’re putting on weight. Gonna be a nice and thick when this is over. Hairier too. Me, Tony and Mick, we like our men on the husky side—strong, with a bit of softness. Keith, though, likes ‘em straight up fat,” the man chuckled. “Who’s that red-haired friend of yours?”

“Tm.” Kevin mumbled a reply around the nipple. He was getting drowsy again.

“Tom? Tim? Whatever his name is, Kenneth made short work of that swimmer’s build. Got a nice, big, bouncy ass on him already.”

Tim, a fat guy? He was good-looking already but could use some meat on his bones. God, he was beautiful. And Paul and Zach…Kevin realized how much he loved his friends. They were coming to terms with the same feelings right now, for each other, for him, and for these other men, three of whom Kevin hadn’t even seen yet. He knew it. Kevin was getting hard, and began to grind his cock against the thigh of his (Brother? Lover? Father? They were all right answers) and the other man stiffened as well. They rubbed against each other. Kevin greedily sucked down more milk.

“OhGodohfuckohhh-oh-hoh,” the man bellowed and pulled Kevin forward. He thrust his tongue into Kevin’s mouth and sprayed onto Kevin’s belly. Kevin came soon after, and they stared at each other as their semen grew cold. The man then pushed Kevin back down toward his chest. Kevin latched onto his other nipple.

“Thanks…other one was sore…Nice to have a family, isn’t it? To be loved? To know there’s someone else?” The man’s voice grew thick. He was dozing off.

He was snoring when Kevin finally fell asleep, but he continued to suck. It was sweet and rich.