Matt's Babysitter 4

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All participants are 18 or older, and no suggestion of underage sexual activity is intended.

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My next-door neighbor Brad had asked me to look after his teenage son Matt, while Brad and his wife went away for a month-long vacation. It didn't seem like a big deal to me, the boy was old enough that I was surprised they thought he still needed supervision, but Brad was pretty old-fashioned about those things. Matt was a wet-dream fantasy, with god-like muscles, a handsome face, and a huge cock. I had been friends with Matt for several years, but as he had matured and turned porn-star sexy, it got harder and harder for me to keep my hands off the young stud. He knew I was gay, and he must have known he turned me on. I was starting to feel like he was actually trying to torment me - we took a shower together once, and he had his hands all over me, I had to stop him from grabbing my hard cock. When we laid by their pool alone together, he would strip naked and fuck the lounge chair he was sprawled face down on, and ask me to put suntan lotion on his naked body. I wasn't sure I could handle a month alone with the awesome teen muscle- boy. Then a couple of weeks before the scheduled trip, Brad called me over to witness a discipline session with the boy, punishment for something insignificant, just so I would know what to do. It turned into a real ball-churner, as Brad made the boy strip naked in front of us, then paddled him soundly, then masturbated the naked teen while I watched! I stumbled home afterwards and couldn't lose my erection for two days. If this was the way Matt had been trained to get his rocks off, wouldn't he misbehave just so he could cum? As if to prove me right, the next Saturday Matt really did misbehave, and what Brad put him through would have amazed the torture experts of the Spanish Inquisition. By the time Brad and his wife Jen finally left, a week later, I was afraid I was unequal to the job I had taken on, and pled with Matt to let me off the hook, not to make me spank him. He tried, but finally begged me to do it, since he was allowed to cum only after a thorough spanking, and by that time he hadn't cum in two weeks! I gave in out of pity for the horny teen stud, and nearly lost it having to look at his naked body bent over the bench ready to accept his punishment. Then when it was over, he offered to suck my cock - out of gratitude! And he proceeded to give me the best blowjob I had ever had, making me wonder if he was really the virgin he claimed to be.


Week two with Matt was a lot like week 1 - he and I had dinner together every evening, and watched TV together in his dad's den for a couple of hours afterwards. His behavior towards me had changed slightly, it became both more formal and more familiar. He spoke to me a little more respectfully, as though I were his dad, but he also hugged me a lot, and when we watched TV he wanted to lay his head in my lap as we sat on the couch. I figured it was the association of my having disciplined him -he was treating me like his dad because I was acting as his dad in the discipline sessions. I told him to cut it out. I didn't need more stimulation and frustration. He grudgingly agreed to be less physical.

Saturday morning Matt called again at 9 AM. All he said was "I'm ready, Derek. Please hurry."

I gulped the last of my coffee, and thought about tossing down a shot of Scotch as well, I needed something to relax me, my heart was racing and my crotch was sweating. I took a deep breath and steeled myself.

Matt was waiting for me in his folks' kitchen again, torture implements in his hands, a meek expression on his face, his gaze submissively down at the floor. I wondered what would have happened if I had delayed. Would the cute sexy little stud have stood there all morning, waiting patiently? I headed for the door to the basement.

"Come on!" I barked at him. "Let's get this over with."

In the basement Matt stood docilely as I undressed him. I was pissed off at myself for getting roped into this situation, and I'm afraid I took it out on Matt a little. I stroked and fondled his muscles as I stripped him, rubbing and caressing his body. I played with his nipples, watching his face and marveling at the look of pain and ecstasy that elicited. Hell, his own dad had done as much, this was part of the assignment, wasn't it? So what if it turned the little fucker on?

When I pulled Matt's tight white briefs down, I was shocked to find he was wearing the steel and leather cock cage. I had assumed that he'd earned the right to leave it off. This explained his look of pain as I aroused him.

"What the fuck!" I gasped. "Matt, why do you have this on?" I carefully removed it, shocked to think he had gone another week with his cock imprisoned in that fiendish device. Once more its inner surface was crusted with his cock ooze - hell, he'd probably cum in spite of it. I tossed it aside and massaged his sex gently, feeling it swell under my fingers.

"I had to, Derek, it was the only way I could stop myself." The boy sounded truly ashamed and tormented. "What we did last time made me twice as horny."

"What do you mean?" I thought I had administered his punishment and "treatment" as efficiently as his father. There had been that blowjob I'd let him give me of course. But I had made him cum, he'd flooded the floor with his hot teen jism.

"I, uh, well, it was different having you spank me than my dad," he said quietly and nervously.

I realized suddenly that I was still fondling Matt's pecs, and now I was stroking his cock. He was hard, and panting. I was about three gasps from pushing him face down over the bench and fucking him.

"Oh! God, sorry. Never mind, let's do it," I stammered, stepping back, removing my hands from Matt's naked body.

I tried to be objective about my role as I tied Matt up and then spanked him, but there was something different about the situation now. We had crossed some boundary, he had admitted this turned him on when I did it. I could no longer suppress my own arousal.

While tying the sexy muscle-boy I fondled his body, my detachment shattered. I wasn't doing it to arouse and torment him, I was doing it because I wanted him so desperately. I wanted to caress and kiss every square inch of his awesome teen body, stroke and fondle his most intimate places, make him gasp and moan with delight as I sucked his beautiful cock to a gut-wrenching orgasm, and then shove my achingly hard cock up his tight virgin ass and fuck him senseless. I wanted him to scream not with pain and discomfort but with delight.

That morning I had fucked myself with the biggest dildo I owned and stroked my own huge cock to three orgasms, trying to drain myself of all capacity for arousal, but it hadn't worked. I wanted to lick and suck his big hard pecs, bite and suck his nipples until he screamed with ecstasy, spread his tight hot ass cheeks and sink my tongue up his hole, lick and suck his crack and drive him mad with lust. I wanted him to want me as much as I wanted him.

Those images and more flooded my brain as I prepared the naked teen stud for his spanking. His cock was even harder than mine, huge, oozing, demanding, desperate for release. That would have to wait, first the boy had to be punished, made to suffer, made to beg for it.

I tied the boy so he was helpless, then forced him face down over the bench. He was naked, helpless, at my mercy. He lifted his ass, wanting the cane and the paddle to calm the fires in his body, overpower the need for sex.

I watched his naked body jerk and flail, I listened to his gasps and whimpers of pain, and my cock got harder and harder. Every movement of the gorgeous boy's body was so arousing I was about to erupt just watching him. And I had forgotten to gag the awesome little stud. In between his moans of pain he was chanting.

"Yes, Do it to me Derek, Do it to me, harder, I need it, do it to me."

He was lifting his beautiful round firm ass in the air to meet the strokes of the paddle as I spanked him, he was offering his ass to me, he was spreading his beautiful thighs as far apart as he could, spreading his crack, exposing his tight hot hole, he wanted it, he wanted me to fuck him, I pictured myself pushing my shorts down and kneeling behind him and thrusting my cock into him, it would be so easy, he would enjoy it, he wanted it.

No! I had to stop.

I stopped paddling Matt and said "OK, Matt, I know that's probably not as many as you think you need, but I have to stop, wait while I get the other stuff." He said nothing, just panted and whimpered and made my cock throb. I stumbled over to the chest on the wall, and managed to put on a pair of the rubber gloves. Clutching the bottle of lubricant, I returned to Matt's side. I squirted a lot of the slippery fluid onto the gloves and on Matt's round firm vulnerable ass. I stroked the naked muscle-boy's bare ass, drawing my finger along his crack, listening to the way he cooed and whimpered. I played with his balls, tugging and squeezing and he panted and begged. I pushed my finger against his tight hot hole and he lifted his ass to meet it, impaling himself on it.

I pulled my finger out of Todd's asshole and stood. I had to at least jerk myself off while I did this, I was only human, there was no way I could remain objective about this any more, Brad was a fool to think I could do this, I was a fool, I shucked off my shorts and briefs, stripped my tee shirt over my head, kicked my clothes aside, wrapped one hand around my rock hard member and knelt again, naked and horny.

"Do it, Derek, I need it, Do it to me," Matt was chanting, lifting his ass, spreading his legs as far apart as he could, practically doing a splits bent helpless and vulnerable, hands tied behind his back, face down over the bench. I reached out and caressed his ass, probing into his crack again, finding his hole. He begged for it. I felt dizzy, like I was falling into a warm soft bed of lust-crazed arousal, like I was drunk. I rubbed Matt's ass. I rubbed and stroked its firm globes of male muscle, loving their round hard fullness. I rubbed and stroked his crack, then pressed against his hole.

I poked a finger into his hole, and felt his sphincter contract and release, welcoming the intrusion, massaging my finger, wanting more. He pushed back against me, asking for it. I pulled my finger out, then shoved two in, and he urged me on. I worked my fingers in and out. I looked at the beautiful stud lying there, begging for it.

"Yes, please, give it to me, Derek!" He was dying with need.

"What the fuck," I thought. "He wants it."

I could hold back no longer. I didn't care about consequences, I had to have him.

I moved up behind Matt and squirted a gallon of lube onto my cock and then shoved it up his ass. It felt awesome. Matt let out a gasping shout of something - surprise? Relief? Pain? I didn't know, and I didn't care. I wrapped my arms around him from behind, clutching his gorgeous pecs like handles and started fucking the boy - squeeze, fondle, thrust, moan. It was even better than I had imagined.

Half-way through, Matt started yelling at me -

"Yes! Fuck me, you stud, fuck my ass, yes!" And he kept up in a similar vein until I finally exploded into him.

When it was over I pulled my cock out of Matt's ass and fell back on my haunches, exhausted. He had made sounds of pleasure, and I had drilled his ass and stroked his cock well enough that he got off twice to my once, but I had been oblivious to his pain or pleasure, lost in the ecstasy of ravaging his body at last.

I was still hard, but having drained my initial lust, I felt ashamed. I had gone too far. I untied the boy, and said "OK, that's all, clean yourself up."

Matt looked up at me and said "Thank you."

I stood and staggered out, still naked, and went back to my place, where I fucked myself with a giant dildo for half an hour until I pumped two more huge loads of cum onto my abs, then took a long hot shower and collapsed onto my bed and slept for two hours.


Matt and I didn't talk about my fucking him. We pretended it hadn't happened. We spent the next two Saturday mornings with Matt bent over that bench naked and me spanking him and then stroking his cock until he popped his nuts. He wanted me to tie him from the hooks in the ceiling, the way his father had done, but that was farther than I was ready to go. These torture sessions were becoming too appealing to me, I was finding my thoughts straying to fantasies I wouldn't have thought imaginable a few weeks earlier. I managed not to fuck him again, ashamed that I had let my lusts run wild.

Finally Brad and Jen returned, and I told myself everything would return to normal. Brad would spank Matt, I would watch porn videos and jerk off, life would go on as before.

How wrong I was.

The Saturday after Matt's parents got home, I spent the morning working in the yard, then did my grocery shopping for the week, then took a long shower. I admit I felt a pang of jealousy, knowing what was probably going on in the basement of the house next door. I imagined I could hear Matt's squeals of pain and pleas for mercy as the leather paddle descended again and again on his tight firm rear end, but I forced myself to think of lawn mulch and composting, and the vivid fantasies finally relented.

After my shower, clean and feeling content, I put on just an old pair of gym shorts and a ragged old tee shirt, got myself a beer from the fridge, and flopped down on the couch to watch the couple of hours of footie that I had taped the night before. Footie is Australian Rules Football, or as I like to call it, "ARF".

I am not Australian, I have never been to Australia, I do not at present even know anyone Australian, but I LOVE footie. The players are all the most incredible young hunks, and they wear the tightest, skimpiest little shorts and tank tops, and are often very affectionate on the playing field, while the game itself is no more boring than American football - I admit I'm a little vague about the rules. OK, I just watch it as soft-core porn. It warms me up for the real thing.

Just as I turned on the tape, I heard a knock on the door - it was Brad's knock, "Shave and a Haircut," and I yelled out "Come in!" He had joined me a couple of times in the past for my Saturday afternoon ritual, and hadn't challenged my love of this strange foreign sport. He already knew the rules better than I, and could name half the players. Straight guys are so cute about sports.

Brad walked in, closed the door, strode menacingly to the center of the room, and stood there, glaring at me.

"What?" I was puzzled, and he was blocking my view of the set.

"Matt told me what you did to him. He didn't want to, but I got it out of him." He kept on glaring at me.

"What? But... What did he say? I didn't do anything. What are you talking about?!" I was stuttering, suddenly terrified. Were there cameras in that basement? Was I being set up? Was this all some elaborate scheme to ruin me?

"He told me you fucked him in the ass!" Brad roared, looking mad as hell.

"But he asked me to," I countered meekly. "He begged me to!"

Ooops, I had just admitted it. Bad move.

"What did I tell you?" Brad had his arms crossed over his huge pecs and looked all too much like a coach I once had who terrorized the entire wrestling squad into the state championship, then died of a heart attack. I felt like a little kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"About what?" I was totally confused.

"Didn't I say not to listen to anything Matt says when he's about to get spanked?!" Brad roared that question as though he was the tough cop, grilling the naughty robber.

"Sure, but I thought you meant just not to listen to him beg not to get spanked." I tried to reply reasonably, it was starting to seem to me I might be able to worm my way out of this, logic was on my side.

"And did he beg not to be spanked?" Brad's voice was quiet, equally reasonable.

"Uh, no. Actually, he begged me to spank him, said he was so horny he couldn't go any longer without cumming. I thought I was doing him a favor."

"ON YOUR FEET!" Brad roared even louder, stepping back and ripping his shirt off and tossing it on the floor. I had forgotten how overpowering he looked with his shirt off, all those muscles, all that fur, all those muscles. God he was a hell of a man! He pulled his wide leather belt out of the loops on his pants and held it out menacingly.

"What? You can't mean...? You're not...?" I was speechless, spluttering.

Brad stepped close enough to reach down and grab me by one arm. I'm not a small guy, but he dragged me to my feet with no visible effort, ripped my tee shirt and shorts off in about five seconds, and dragged me across the room naked to an arm chair, which he forced me across face down. I was torn between my real fear of what he intended and my sudden lust for this bear of a man.

The first stroke of Brad's belt across my bare ass tipped the balance away from that lust thing and way over towards that fear thing. This was all too real. It hurt.

"You've WHACK just WHACK ruined WHACK several WHACK years WHACK of WHACK careful WHACK training WHACK and WHACK discipline!"

Brad yelled at me as he lashed my naked vulnerable ass with the belt. I had trouble hearing him over my own screams of pain, but he repeated that several times, chanting it as he battered my ass, and I pieced it together.

I struggled. I flailed. I yelled. And soon I was sobbing and begging. I had never felt so helpless and misunderstood in my life. There was nothing I could do to stop Brad from blistering my virgin ass with that belt and it hurt like hell and I felt like a little kid, at the mercy of the giant big people. I sobbed and felt miserable.

Finally Brad decided I had had enough, and the spanking ended. Brad picked me up like a sack of potatoes and stood me on my feet. I kept whimpering and crying and he sort of chucked me under the chin and wiped my tears and said, "There now, that's better." He hugged me.

I wasn't sure what it was that he thought was better, my ass was on fire and I was sure I would have scars there for life, but it felt good to be held that way, to be so close to this dark, hairy giant. I felt warm and safe in his arms. I wanted him to hold me forever. I started nuzzling his neck, then licked my way down to his pecs and got to work on his hairy pelt. He made appreciative grunting sounds

Brad unwrapped his huge arms from around me and pushed me back gently until I was a couple of feet away. Then he reached down and opened his pants and let them fall to the floor. He stepped out of them. I looked down, puzzled, but interested. Then Brad pushed his shorts down far enough to free his cock which he wrapped one huge paw around and started stroking. It was half hard when he got it out, and slowly swelled to full erection. It was the largest cock I had ever seen first hand. There had been a few on the Internet, but I assumed they had been morphed. This was real. This was huge. Brad put one hand on my shoulder and pushed me slowly to a kneeling position on the floor, pointing that enormous fuck cannon at me.

"Go ahead, baby, take it, you know you want it, suck on it," Brad said softly, gently. His hand was on my head, pulling it towards his cock. He rubbed his cock against my lips, not pressing, just letting me feel it. The scent of his overwhelming male sexiness was intoxicating. He smelled like cum and sweat and good honest masculine stench. I inhaled and loved it. I was drunk with it. His cock was starting to ooze, and I felt the warm wet sticky fluid coat my lips.

I opened my mouth and stuck out my tongue and licked the huge bulbous head of his giant member, and he sighed softly. "That's it, baby, kiss it and lick it and make love to it. It's all yours." I followed his instructions to the letter, I kissed it, I licked it, I made love to this enormous beautiful piece of man meat. I licked and sucked its huge knob-like head, lapping up the precum that flowed out of it.

Brad moved slowly backwards, pulling me by my head to follow him, until he reached the couch and fell back onto it, pulling me on top of him. He dragged me up to his face and kissed me, wrapping those huge arms around me and pressing our naked bodies together. I felt our cocks rubbing together and realized I was rock hard, the pain in my freshly-strapped ass all but forgotten. I wanted Brad.

I sighed and fell into him. He kissed as though he was about to swallow me, sucking and biting my tongue, sucking my lips, shoving his tongue halfway down my throat. We explored each other's mouths and faces with our tongues, and each other's bodies with our hands. He was strong but gentle, rubbing and squeezing me in all the right places. How could a super-macho straight stud like this know so much about how to pleasure me?

Eventually Brad pushed my face down towards his chest and told me how to service his awesome muscular body. He told me to lick his hair-matted chest until it was wet, and I did, loving all that hair and the way it made him seem so much more a male. He told me to suck and bite his big nipples, and I did, loving the sounds I was able to drag from deep in his chest by torturing those sexy knobs of flesh. He told me to lick down his abs to his navel and dig my tongue deep inside there, and I did. He told me to follow all that hair down to his enormous cock and lick up it to the head and suck the whole thing into my mouth, something I was afraid I wouldn't be able to do, it looked so big, but I did the best I could, and he moaned appreciatively.

Once I'd started to get used to that huge piece of man meat, Brad took over. He grabbed my head and pushed it down on his cock and slowly made me take it, take all of it into my mouth and down my throat until I felt my nose hit the thick mat of hair on his tight muscular belly. I had always thought I was an expert at taking big cocks, but that amazed me. Call it love, call it desperation, I wanted it, and he wanted me to have it, and it happened.

Then slowly, lovingly, Brad worked his cock in and out of my throat until I could feel his nuts start to squirm and his ball sac tightening. I knew that meant he was about to cut loose and blow his load down my gullet and I was a little afraid. If he pumped out a load of cum as big as everything else about him, I was going to choke on it. But just when I was sure that was a real danger, he pulled me off his huge cock and dragged me back up across that acre of fur and kissed me again. "Good boy," he growled into my ear as he licked and sucked it. "Time for the main event."

Brad then stood with me in his arms, he managed to get up from that couch carrying me and he walked around to the back of the couch and slung me face down over it and the next thing I knew I felt his nose buried in my ass crack and his tongue licking my tight hot manhole. I gasped and panted with lust. His hands went under me to my crotch, one grabbed my cock, the other my balls. I was gasping and grunting, vaguely aware where this was heading, but too totally aroused to care. Brad could do more things with that big tongue of his than most guys can do with a whole hand. It pried my ass open, got it wet, pushed inside, probed around, and loosened me up. His hands were stroking my unit and squeezing and tugging my nuts and I was in heaven.

Brad's tongue slid out of my ass and his hands left my crotch and I felt something huge and blunt rubbing at my back door. He was lubing me up with the river of fuck juice oozing from his monster tool.

I was about to protest, suddenly realizing that I was a top, I didn't like to get fucked, and that huge pole was going to tear me apart, when I lifted my head and saw Brad's muscle-boy son Matt standing in front of me. I had no idea how long he'd been in the room with us, but he was naked, and every perfect muscle on his awesome teen body glistened with vitality and readiness for sex. His cock was hard as a rock, and he was pointing it at my mouth. "Open wide," he said, grinning, as he grabbed my head and shoved his big cock down my throat.

That was Brad's cue to ram his giant sausage into me from the rear, and my scream of pain was muffled by the cock in my mouth.

Brad made no ceremony about shoving his entire cock up my ass. The pain was excruciating, but once it was in he left it there. I tried to picture the situation mechanically and decided I was in some alternate universe where the ordinary rules of anatomy didn't apply. With that entire cock up my ass, its head should be in my mouth. I should be able to swallow and make him cum. But no, it was Matt's cock in my throat, and I felt it pulse with his pent-up teen cum load. Brad must not have gotten the boy off earlier, he was full of it and desperate to pump it out. I heard him grunting and panting like a little bull, and it reminded me of spanking him and then fucking him and I swallowed on his huge hard cock, loving it. This was what I had been wanting to do for as long as I had known the awesome little fuck-stud, suck his cock, make him cum. I sucked and swallowed and licked and sucked for all I was worth.

Then I remembered the huge tool up my ass. It didn't hurt so much now. Brad still hadn't pulled it out, and I tried tightening my ass muscles. Brad's head was at my neck, licking and nuzzling and biting. He bit my ear as I squeezed his cock with my ass. He moaned appreciatively.

"Oh, baby! Yeah!"

He liked that. I felt him work the muscles of his cock in response, and felt my entire body lifted from the couch half an inch. I was impaled on him. I felt his huge hairy chest and abs pressed against my back. He started working his cock in and out just a little, then more.

Soon I was sucking the boy and getting fucked by his father in the most erotic experience of my life. We all three came at the same time, and my couch was drenched in cum and sweat. Thank God for Scotch-guard!

Later that day, after Brad and Matt had both had their way with me several times, in every way imaginable, and we were all sitting in my hot tub drinking beer and recuperating before another round, Brad explained to me that Matt wasn't really his son at all. He had picked the boy up one night, hustling on South Main. Brad took the sexy kid home and fed him, intending to play Good Samaritan and save the cute little hustler from his life of sin and degradation, feed him and counsel him and set him on the straight and narrow, but the boy seduced him instead. They had incredible sex, and Brad fell in love with the kid. Matt was thirteen at the time. Brad adopted him to simplify things, but their relationship was definitely non-stop sexual.

The spanking and stuff was just for variety.

Jen was technically Brad's wife, but she was into other women, and the whole marriage thing was just so they could both participate in the local social scene and advance their already very successful careers.

Matt had wanted Brad to include me in their relationship from the day I moved in next door, but Brad was at first too jealous, then too afraid I couldn't be trusted. The "babysitting" gimmick was a way to test me, and Matt had convinced Brad that anyone who could get through all of that without raping his charge - well, almost - had to be trustworthy.

Needless to say, I don't accept babysitting jobs any more, but I do spend most Saturdays with Brad and Matt, getting to know the two of them deeply and intimately. It turns out Brad likes to get fucked just as much as he likes to do the fucking, and the sight of him on his back on my kitchen table with his huge muscular legs in the air while I drill his ass and Matt fills his mouth is enough to make me cum just writing about it. All those muscles. All those dark hairy muscles. And that huge fucking cock.


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