Trained By My Girlfriend's Dad: A M/M Straight To Gay First Time Romance

by Charlotte Storm

  “Oh, fuck,” he says, under his breath. At least, that’s what I think he said. Then he wraps his hot, wet lips around me, and words no longer matter.

  Dominic’s mouth was made for sucking cock. Fuck, does he do it well.

  Tangling my fingers in his thick dark hair, I admire him as he glides his mouth along my length, slicks it with his spit.

  In no time, I’m ready to go off. I won’t, because I want to make this last, want to be inside him when I explode. He’ll just have to wait.

  He pouts when I pull him off me, use his hair to control him. “Not yet,” I say. Barely say. Dominic affects me more than I think he does. More than I’m willing to admit.

  He falls back onto the bed when I shove him away. I lift his legs into the air, push them into his chest, watch as the plug slides out of his hole. He’s open, ready for the second, larger plug. Then he’ll be ready for me.

  I slick the silicon and bring it to his ass. His gaze holds mine when I push it in, slow and steady. It’s the only way to do this that it won’t hurt, which is the last thing I want to do. I want his tight little asshole to be primed and ready for me so I can use it over and over again. Because once with Dominic will never be enough.

  “Darryl, please. Fuck.” He presses his head against the pillow. His eyes roll back in his head when I push against his perineum, massage in small circles. “I need you inside me. Need you to take my virginity. Please. It’s yours. Take it. Take it.” He pants the last few words, his body writhing to the tempo of my fingers on him.

  I love when Dominic begs. He does it so well, and there’s something obscenely sexy when a man half my age, and cute as fucking hell, asks for my cock.

  “Since you asked so nicely.” I take a step back, grab the lube, hold it up, run my free hand between my legs to cup my balls. “I’ll give you what you want. You get me ready.”

  Dominic sits up so fast, the plug slides out. Without missing a beat, he pushes it back inside, grabs the lube, and focuses all of his attention on my dick. I clench my muscles and grind my teeth when his hands wrap around me, coats me in slick.

  When I’m wet enough, Dominic leans back, pulls the plug from his ass, kicks his legs into his chest, and holds his cheeks apart. This time, I’m the one who moans as I take in the sight of him open, ready. For me.

  “On your knees,” I say, climbing onto the bed with him. “I want you to kneel, as if you’re about to pray.”

  He licks his lips, his eyes going wide. “Should I pray?” he asks, voice shaky. He’s nervous, excited, all the things I remember feeling my first time.

  Making sure his legs are close together, I press my palm against his mid back until he leans forward, his ass coming off the bed to the perfect height. I position myself behind him, rub the tip of my cock along his crack.

  He shudders, leans forward on his elbows, giving me even more access and a better view. I apply more lube, bring the head of my cock to his opening, swirl around his outer ring until I feel his muscles loosen.

  “I’m ready,” he says, before I have a chance to ask.

  Truth is, I’m ready, too. More than ready, and more than a little nervous. I’m normally not. Normally, I’m in control. With Dominic, things are different in a way they haven’t been since Mason. In a way I haven’t wanted them to be until now.

  No, that’s not right. I don’t want them to be different. I like my life the way it is. Me, detached. Dick and ass all day long, whenever and wherever I want it. When Dominic goes back to school, I get that life back.

  So, why do I want time to crawl to a stop when I’m with him?

  “Darryl?” Dominic says, bringing my focus to the present, taking it off a past that’s long gone, and a future not yet to come.

  Without another word, I press my hips forward, claim Dominic’s virginity inch by inch. When his warm sheath envelops me, I know I’m the one getting screwed.

  Just like losing your virginity, there’s no going back. With Dominic, all I can do is move forward, and pray I survive the aftermath.

  Chapter 21

  Dominic

  Darryl was right to put me into this position, even if I’m not entirely sure praying is what I’m doing. Thanking God, maybe. Calling out His name, for sure.

  “Oh, God!” I say, my voice cracking on both words.

  Another man’s dick is inside my ass. Though it burns a little as my muscles and skin stretch to accomodate my lover, this is easily the most liberating and empowering thing I’ve ever done. The most intimate and vulnerable.

  Everything about being with Darryl feels right in a way being with a woman never has.

  “Dominic,” Darryl huffs, his voice catching on the end of my name. He’s all the way inside. I’m all the way full. I never want to be empty again.

  Dragging in a deep breath through my nose, I focus on relaxing the muscles still cramped around Darryl’s solid, thick length. He gives me a moment to adjust, caresses my back, whispers in my ear how beautiful I am on my knees for him, how amazing I make him feel.

  He cares about me, about making sure my first time is special. How the hell could it not be? It’s with him.

  When my body finally adjusts, I glance over my shoulder, take in the magnificent sight of him behind me. Naked. Eyes laser-focused on my ass. “I’m ready,” I say, giving him permission to take this to the next level. “Make it hard and deep. I want to feel every inch of you.”

  He tilts his chin, his gaze meeting mine. His blue eyes burn like the midday sun in a clear sky. His jaw muscles ripple, and his shoulders bunch. The hand he used to stroke my back grabs my neck, the gentle touch now fierce.

  Darryl moves his hips, slides out almost all the way. The emptiness leaves a void inside that wants to be reclaimed by him, over and over. That craves to be filled, kept satisfied, by him. Only him.

  His fingers dig painfully into my neck when he slams into me. The force of the thrust vibrates my bones, makes me cry out.

  Darryl’s grip loosens. He leans down, his chest covering my back. “Are you okay?” he asks, concern in his tone.

  I’m not okay. I’m way the hell better than that. “Yes, Darryl. Yes! Don’t stop. Don’t be gentle. Just...fuck.” I clamp down on his dick, make my internal muscles work harder than they ever have. “Fuck me. Don’t stop fucking me until you fill me.”

  I’m surprised at the words that leave my mouth, as if they have a life of their own. I’m not the one in charge when it comes to him. He is. But in this moment, with him behind me, taking my virginity, it’s as if I hold all the power. And I plan to use it.

  Darryl growls when his hands find my shoulders, which gives him enough leverage to pull me tight against him. If he hates that I’m the one now giving commands, he doesn’t show it. In fact, I’d say he enthusiastically tries to give me exactly what I’ve asked for.

  My lover rams into me like a freight train running full speed. I fist the sheets, moan every time his head rubs past my prostate. The sensation of him inside is better than I imagined, and far more intense.

  The scent of lube, our sweat, his skin, all act like an aphrodisiac, making me fall harder and harder for the man who gave me permission to be who I really am. Who has shown me what it looks like to live full out, comfortable and proud of who he is. That I can have the same thing, be the same way.

  Darryl’s pace is punishing, brutal. It’s exactly what I asked for, what I’ve craved from the moment we met. From the moment I admitted how I truly felt. My balls tighten in anticipation of release. And the cock that’s been hard again ever since I put Darryl’s dick into my mouth, slaps against my stomach with every thrust.

  The rising tide sensation deep within tells me I’m going to come again. No, it tells me I’m going to drown. Like it was with the anal beads, I know this orgasm won’t be like anything I’ve experienced before. I can’t imagine every day from here on out won’t be something new with him.

  “Shit, I’m close,” Darryl grunts as he works me. His hands move from m
y shoulders to my hips, which changes the angle.

  The world around me ceases to exist. For an infinitesimal moment, I’m weightless. Or maybe I’m a beam of light. Or maybe this is the Heaven I’ve heard of others achieving during orgasm.

  I clench my...fuck, my everything. My throat closes around a scream I desperately want to unleash. Warmth coats my stomach and the sheets beneath me. My dick jerks hard with each spurt, to the point it’s almost painful, but in the best possible way.

  “Oh, God. Dominic. Dominic!” The way Darryl calls my name makes me go off again.

  His grip on my hips is hard enough to leave a bruise. The next time he slams into me, he stays there. I’m still clamped tight around him, my own release oozing from my tip. I know the instant Darryl comes, and for exactly how long.

  His cock pulses deep within, fights against my muscles determined to hold him in place. A different kind of warmth fills me, the kind I expect will make a mess of me long after this moment, wreck me for all other lovers.

  We collapse onto the bed, Darryl against my back, our limbs jumbled together. I don’t know how long we stay like that. Don’t care. If he never lets me up from beneath him, I’d be happy.

  I sigh when he kisses along my shoulder up to my neck, groan when he pulls out of me and demands I stand so we can take a shower.

  “I’m not sure I can walk,” I say into the mattress, too boneless to push to sitting.

  Darryl comes to my side of the bed, places his massive hands on either side of my face, and gently lifts until I look at him. “Fine. You don’t have to walk. I’ll carry you.”

  He pulls me into his arms before I can protest. On instinct, my legs wrap around his waist, my arms around his shoulders. I rest my head in the crook of his neck, inhale his scent, and the cologne of our combined pleasure.

  The heat and wet of his release coats my ass, my thighs, his stomach. He doesn’t seem to mind, so I make it point not to care, either.

  We cross the hallway into his room, and don’t stop until we reach his bathroom. When he sets me down, it’s on the cool countertop. The pressure from sitting hurts, but the cold granite does wonders to soothe the ache.

  He turns on the shower, makes sure the water is nice and hot, then helps me into it. With the kind of care I could get used to, Darryl cleans every inch of my used, fucked, no-longer-a-virgin body.

  By the time we get out, he’s hard again. So am I. When he takes me to his bed, all I want to do is sleep. Well, not all.

  This time, when Darryl enters me, he’s gentle. We kiss, he spoons behind me, takes his time slowly filling my sore ass. Once he’s in, the pain goes away. All that’s left is pleasure, and a warmth that spreads from my hair to my toes.

  I’m falling in love with him. Hell, I’ve already fallen, and I have no idea what to do about it.

  Chapter 22

  Darryl

  I wake to Dominic’s soft snores, warm body, and hard cock.

  His legs are tangled with mine. His cheek is pressed against my chest, his breath tickling the hairs around my nipple. It feels so fucking good to have him close, to hold him, smell him, feel his skin against mine. It’s been too long since I’ve had that.

  The memory of the last time I awoke with someone in my bed floods through me. It steals my breath, infects my bloodstream, ruins the moment of bliss and peace. Even after all these years, the pain of losing Mason brings me to my damn knees. The only man who could.

  Not dealing with the loss of him, with my guilt, hasn’t helped me move on. It’s trapped me in the prison of his memory. A prison I deserve. No one else should have to serve the sentence with me.

  Disentangling myself from Dominic is near impossible. Somehow, I manage to do it without waking him. I’d worked him over hard last night. Wore him the hell out. Wore me out, too.

  His ass. Fuck. The way it felt to be inside him. The way he drew out every bit of pleasure, and begged for more...it was good. Better than good. Better maybe even than—

  I shake my head, scrub my hands over my face, press the heels of my palms into my eye sockets. I have to stop comparing Dominic to Mason. It’s wrong for him, and it hurts me. Tears off the scab. Keeps the wound fresh.

  After I brush my teeth and take a piss, I head into the kitchen to make breakfast. Yes, it’s Dominic’s job. Under the circumstances, I think he deserves a break.

  The coffee finishes brewing, and I’m plating up our eggs and toast when Dominic zombie-shambles into the kitchen. He looks fucking delicious enough to eat—sleep pants slung low across his hips, dark hair sticking out at odd angles, and a thoroughly fucked expression on his face.

  “Morning,” he mumbles.

  I nod toward the barstool. “Take a seat. Breakfast is ready.”

  The space between his eyebrows crease as he looks at the two plates of food. “I thought making breakfast was my job.”

  “It is. Since you were asleep, I did it for you. Now, sit.” I don’t go full dom voice on him. Just enough so he knows to do as I say.

  “I’m sorry, sir. I promise to make it up to you,” he says, before pulling out the barstool.

  A pained expression flashes across his face when he puts one ass cheek on the chair, then scoots onto it all the way. I set down the plates, come around to his side of the bar, crowd his personal space.

  He opens his legs so I can step closer, and angles his head up to look at me. I place my hands on both sides of his face, lean in, and kiss the hell out of him. He’s surprised at first, but quickly returns the kiss with equal amounts enthusiasm and desire.

  “I know you’re sore,” I say, my lips still touching his. “And I know I wore you out. So, I won’t go too hard on you this morning.” I buck my hips forward, rub against his leg, so he knows exactly what kissing him does to me. “After breakfast, we go back to our roles.”

  The look on his face can only be described as conflicted. There’s a part of Dominic that likes the way we play. That I’m in charge. There’s also a part of him that wants more from me than I can give, more than I should give.

  Even if I could find some way to heal from the hurt of losing Mason, Julie is still my daughter. Still his ex-girlfriend. She’d never forgive me. I never want to put her in the position to have to.

  But every moment I spend with Dominic blurs that simple truth. Makes me want to claim him, make him mine, be his, too. Fuck consequences, and the past, and the notion I don’t deserve to be happy.

  “Yes, sir,” Dominic finally says, before turning his attention to his food.

  After I grab both of us a cup of coffee, I sit with him and enjoy breakfast. We eat in silence, which is good. Gives me time to get control over my emotions, consider how I want to move forward.

  It’s also awkward, especially after a night filled with so much intimacy. Being close with Dominic, letting him in, has been good for me just as much as it’s hurt.

  Of all the fucking people in the world who intrigue me, who can reach me after so many years buried underneath rigid control and guilt, why does it have to be my daughter’s ex-boyfriend?

  When breakfast is done, Dominic sets to the task of cleaning the kitchen, then completes other chores. Our charade for Julie’s benefit. She’d told me to put him to work, and I have.

  As I watch him work, I can’t shake the sinking feeling in my gut telling me that letting this particular sub go in a few weeks will be harder than any other time before. It also twists my guts to think about the scenario I had planned for him for today. Now it feels wrong.

  Julie and Jordan are coming over this afternoon. I was going to surprise Dominic with a scenario, make him serve drinks, appetizers, and then lunch. A day of planned humiliation. Now, I can’t stomach the thought of putting him through that. Hate the idea of shaming him or embarrassing him that way.

  Fuck, now my feelings are fucking with my dom game. This isn’t good.

  I head outside, to the pool. Dominic’s cleaning it, getting it ready for today. A day he knows nothing about. The
re’s no way he won’t be pissed I didn’t tell him earlier.

  “Hey!” I wave my hand to get his attention. His earbuds are in, music probably blasting. Other than that, he’s wearing nothing but a pair of board shorts and flip flops. No shirt. Damn, he looks delicious.

  He glances my way, quickly removes the earbuds when he sees me. “Yes, sir?” he says, tone formal. Stiff. For once, my dick doesn’t get hard at the sound of sir from his lips. Fucking great.

  “I need to talk to you for a minute, not dom to sub. Man to man.”

  Dominic quirks up an eyebrow, but doesn’t say anything. He pulls the sweep from the pool, sets it to the side, and saunters over to me. I can’t take my eyes off his hips. The way they sway because I know he’s sore back there. Sore because of me.

  Now my dick decides to get hard.

  “Is this about last night?” he asks, stopping a few feet away. He’s still close enough that I can smell suntan lotion on his skin. “Because I’ve been wanting to talk to you, too.”

  He licks his lips, runs his fingers through his hair, adjusts his glasses. I open my mouth to tell him this isn’t about that, when he barges ahead, takes control of the conversation.

  “Yesterday, well, last night was one of the best nights of my life. There was so much I didn’t understand about myself until I met you. When I saw you—”

  He shakes his head, and I know he means when he spied on me with Owen.

  “And then we—” He touches his chest, then points to me. “You started training me, and I began to get in touch with who I really am. Last night was the culmination of a lifetime of questioning. Ignoring. Denying. I feel like there’s a whole new world out there to explore. And, um...”

  He shuffles his feet, cuts his eyes to the ground.

  “Well, I want to explore it with you. If that means I have to stay your sub, then fine. I’ll take it. I’ll do whatever I have to. I just want it to be you. I’ve been thinking about school. I’m willing to find a work around. Travel. Transfer. Maybe take some time off—”