Bride of my Father-In-Law Pt. 02


Standard warning: this is a very over the top, far-fetched work of fantasy. It contains lots of humiliation and some taboo sexual contact between a man and his father-in-law. Please skip if it’s not your thing. Otherwise, enjoy.


Roy spooned me, pressing his hairy chest and belly into my back. We were both still slick with sweat. His boner was growing, despite rogering me only 10 minutes ago, poking at my vulnerable rear. I knew what he expected of me, so I obligingly pushed my hips back, pushing my butt against his insistent manhood as he had taught me. He murmured filthy sweet nothings as he chewed my ear and raked his hard-on through my crack. As his hands held onto my wrists, I thought back to when we had first grabbed me like this.

That Saturday three months ago on the golf course. He had been hounding me to hit the links with him all summer, and I had been able to fend him off until I ran out of excuses. In my year and half of marriage with his daughter and the two year courtship prior, I had gotten along with Roy fine but to say he was overbearing would have been an understatement and I didn’t want to spend my precious Saturday with the old blowhard. Now in October nearing the end of the season, I had finally relented and we were the only two men out there.

As I teed up at the seventh hole, I felt his presence behind me. His smell of cigars and sweat. Without warning Roy had grabbed me from behind, pulling me into him to adjust my stance. All throughout the day he had been chiding me with tips and critiques on my game, but now he was taking matters into his own hands.

“Come on. Open up your legs. Shoulder-width apart.” I looked down to see his foot come between mine and kick them open. He held me close, behind me, his arms wrapped over my shoulders, his hands clasping mine around the golf club. I hadn’t been held like this since playing baseball as a teenager, when my coach would tweak our batting stance. It had made me blush then, even though I knew it was appropriate and part of playing the sport. I felt the same flustered warmth spreading over my face and my heart beat quicken, but I knew that this was just Roy’s way. Touchy-feely, overly-familiar.

“That’s it, stick your little butt out. Don’t be shy, son.” He released my hand and slapped my haunch impatiently, then trapped my wrists again. I reluctantly stuck my hips out, pressing my backside into his crotch.

“Come on, push that little rump out. That’s it, Billy.” I felt the thickness of his hefty groin pressing into my buttocks. He used one of his hands to hold my hips close to him. The embarrassing truth was, I had always noticed that my father-in-law was a well-hung man, it was obvious in any pair of pants he wore. But now I could feel it. Feel the weight and pressure of his heavy, flaccid cock and balls up against my butt. My heart beat rapidly and I felt myself sweating, agitated to be thinking thoughts like this. To be thinking of my father-in-law’s cock as only a few layers of clothing protected my rear end from it.

Finally satisfied that I had adopted the proper stance, he released me, cupping and patting my pushed out backside rump once more for good measure. He kept his hands to himself as we finished the round, but kept up the unsolicited advice and critiques of my game as we left the links.

“And remember, keep your head behind the ball at impact.” He coached as we returned to our lockers. As I walked in he slapped my butt in encouragement, maybe for the sixth time that day.

“No son of mine is going to be bad at golf, Billy.” I always cringed when he said stuff like this. Calling me his son- it had begun well before the wedding. I didn’t have anything against him but it was just so uncomfortably intimate. I just smiled and ignored him.

At our lockers Roy kicked off his shoes, then dropped his pants and underwear in one quick motion. I looked out of the corner of my eye as he stepped out of his pants and briefs – it was strange to me, his shirt and socks were still on but he was naked from the waist down. “Shirt-cocking” or “porky-pigging” an old roommate in college had done the same, enjoying walking around with just a shirt on, dick peaking out beneath.

Roy took his time, pulling off each of his socks and put them away in his locker, all while his big dick hung out from beneath his golf shirt, swinging like a grandfather clock. It felt like he did this deliberately – exposing his penis to me.

As I sat on a bench, I tried to face the corner and protect my modesty, but Roy would grab my shoulder and turn me to him as he gave me pointers about my game while stark naked. While I sat on the bench to unlace my shoes, he propped his leg up on it, opening his crotch to me, his penis inches from my face. I couldn’t help but take a few peeks. It almost felt like Roy wanted me to see it, the way he was waving it at me. It was big, thick and hairy, just like him.

“Alright, good job out there today son. Now let’s hit the poker oyna showers.” He stood above me, hanging hog, rubbing his hands on his big, furred belly with satisfaction.

“I don’t know Roy, I’m probably good, I didn’t really sweat that much…” I trailed off, struggling to keep my eyes above his waist. I was just going to keep on my underwear and socks and put the clothes I had worn to the club back on. I didn’t want to get naked with the pushy old man.

“Nonsense. What are you, some kind of sissy, scared to get bare ass with your father-in-law?” He goaded me, making me blush. He continued before I could answer.

“Come on, you’ve showered with your old man before, haven’t you?” He demanded, looking me up and down..

“When I was much younger, yeah.” I admitted. He slapped my bare shoulder roughly and joked.

“Well I’m your Daddy now, too. You ain’t got nothing between your legs I haven’t seen before, kiddo. So get your little butt in the shower.” He said with a wink. He was walking the line between joking and seriousness. Teasing me into nakedness. Again I relented.

Reluctantly I wrapped a towel around my waist, lowered my underwear as he stood there expectantly, my self-conscious towel-dance making him snort with derision. Then I followed him to the showers. He kept his own towel over his shoulders, exposing his wide, furry ass to me. I had never seen such a big or hairy rear end before. He must have had a size 40 waist. It was almost impressive.

After we hung our towels, he moved to the shower head right next to mine despite all the open space. He closed his eyes and let the stream run over his head, spinning in place and moaning in pleasure.

“Ahh, isn’t that better. Just two men enjoying a shower together.” He lathered up his big barrel chest with soap.

“See Billyboy, I think it’s better for us men to just let it all hang out.” He shook his cock at me lewdly. His big hog slapped against his chubby thigh, and I flinched at the loud wet sound.

“Or I guess just poke out in your case, little buddy.” He laughed and I watched in shock as his right hand reached between my legs. He crooked his index finger under my little penis head and shook it slightly.

I gasped, momentarily paralyzed. Then I surprised myself. Instead of moving away from him or turning around to protect myself, I just stood there and ever so slightly opened my thighs and pushed my hips to him. I don’t understand why, but I offered my genitals to his mocking finger.

He jiggled it under his digit, winking at me, a big smirk on his face. I was too ashamed to meet his delighted gaze so I just watched his finger work on my dick. It bobbed around ridiculously, and it seemed to retract in embarrassment, my shaft disappearing entirely like a compressed accordion so that the entirety of my penis looked as tiny as an acorn.

“Coochie coochie coo!!” He called out, his deep voice and the throaty laughter that followed echoing against the tiled walls of the shower. He was standing so close, his big belly almost bumping into my stomach, that I felt his hot breath on my chest and neck as he laughed. He was tickling it, tickling my glans, my little dick head.

I looked down and watched him play with my penis, clearly belittling its size. With his own massive hog on display, looking three or four times as large as mine, it was all the more blatant. He was treating my thing like it was just a little joke, a little toy to be fiddled with and played with. I felt paralyzed, my legs weak, and I knew my face was furiously red from embarrassment.

“Roy, please.” I stepped away, my voice more pleading and pathetic than I intended. He laughed again and gave my pecker a few more tickles.

“I’m just busting your chops kiddo. You’re perfect just the way you are.” He then reached around to slap my bare butt cheek, making me jump up in surprise. For a moment he returned to the mundane golf pratter, and I was able to wash myself in peace. I couldn’t’ focus on a single word – my heart was racing from having him fondle my pecker like that.

“Billy, do me a favor and wash my back, will you?” He asked, facing away from me.

I took in the sight of his broad, hairy back. We were the same height but he was a much larger man, and his back looked powerful. His pale skin was speckled with moles and carpeted by a wiry, gray hair that did not look much thinner than the hair on his chest. He had the back of a medieval blacksmith.

“Soap me up and rub it in with your hands.” He directed. I knew that if I resisted his will would win out, and he’d likely humiliate me in the process of browbeating me into washing his back. So I just agreed, and filled my hands with soap from the dispenser. Taking a breath, I placed my hands on my father-in-law’s big, strong, hairy back.

“That’s it, get in there.” He encouraged me as I rubbed up and down, from his shoulders to the sides, down to the small of his back and then up again. His thick canlı poker oyna back hair, wet and soaped up, raked against my hands like seaweed. In the past I think I would have been grossed out by him but instead I was strangely fascinated. Curious and somehow impressed by his almost grotesque masculinity.

“Hmmm, those soft hands of yours sure feel nice.” He groaned in pleasure as I massaged him under the warm shower stream. I know that I should have found his body repulsive, his back coated in thick, wiry gray hair. But somehow I was in awe of his manliness.

“Come on. Don’t be shy now. Don’t neglect the ass, son.” At his prompting, I lowered my trembling hands to his posterior. I touched it lightly with my fingertips, and he grunted with frustration, reached around to grab my wrists and force my open palms against his huge butt. My hands were filled with my father-in-law’s big buttocks.

“Don’t be a pantywaist. It’s just one guy helping another out.” He released my hands and I obeyed him, soaping up and rubbing his huge, hairy naked ass. He groaned with gratification as I rubbed his big backside.

I looked at it as I worked. Like his big hairy back, I found myself admiring it despite myself. The breadth of it. It looked powerful to me. His cheeks jiggled as I rubbed them. Roy was overweight, but he had muscle beneath his excess fat. Like me he had played baseball in his youth, as well as wrestling, but he had been gifted with a natural stoutness, an innate heft, whereas I was slender by nature and had to work at the gym to keep any muscle on my body. The perverse thought returned to me unbidden: this was a powerful ass. I got a queasy feeling in my stomach as I imagined him between a woman’s legs. Rutting, fucking my wife’s late mother. I tried to force the thought out but it returned even more vivid, and I felt nauseous as I imagined the sight of these big butt cheeks pumping as he humped between a woman’s spread legs.

Trying to force one sick thought of my head made way for another – what if I got down on my knees to do this? What if I got down on my knees and washed his ass? Wasn’t I already serving him, as he had asked? Hadn’t I served him all afternoon, carrying the clubs and scrambling into the rough to catch stray balls like a caddy? He had even asked me to tie his shoes at one point, citing his aching knees. I had kneeled then, put my face inches from his big well-filled groin. Why not now? Roy had always loved to give me little tasks. Little favors and errands when we spent time together. Sending me scurrying of like a puppy to fetch him drinks or his glasses or whatever he wanted. And hadn’t I always hopped up, eager to please like a good son-in-law? It would be quite natural for me to get on my knees to better serve him, I thought.

“That’s it son, keep at it. Those soft little hands feel like heaven on my keister.” He exhaled happily, and I redoubled my efforts, massaging his efforts with renewed gusto.

I could do it. Kneel down onto the shower floor. My face would be inches from the old man’s huge, hairy ass. If I were to get down on my knees to wash him, it would communicate… complete surrender to this man. To his manhood. He would know that I was his. He would laugh at me, laugh at my obeisance, tell me what a good boy I was. I wanted him to laugh at me, wanted him to laugh at his weak, shameless son-in-law. I wanted him to laugh and to turn around, so that I would see it, right in my face, it would hit me in the face and I would –

I resisted the obscene impulse to drop to my knees, banished the deviant thoughts taking hold of my mind and washed the rest of the soap off his butt. Finally I finished my job, removing my shaking hands from his buttocks. He laughed with pleasure, and perhaps surprise at my acquiescence, and turned to me.

“Good boy. Now turn around, I’ll do you too.” He said casually, placing his hands on my waist, prodding me to spin around.

“Oh that’s OK Roy, I’m good.” I protested politely, trying, perhaps far too late, to establish some boundaries.

“Nonsense. This is classic male bonding. Face the wall, boy.” He clasped my bare hips tightly and spun me around. The old man outweighed me and was stronger than me – if he wanted to wash my back he was going to damn well wash my back. I just stood there, cringing as I felt my father-in-law’s big rough hands rub soap up and down my naked body, from my shoulder blades, down my spine and to my butt crack.

“Just relax Billyboy. Just relax. Enjoy it. I want you to enjoy it. Enjoy the good feeling and enjoy our closeness, son.” He cooed from behind me. Closing my eyes, I lowered my shoulders and opened my legs just a bit, giving into his strong hands.

“That’s it. Man to man, father and son. Isn’t that nice, boy?” He hummed into my ear. Roy’s strong hands were relaxing me, and I kept my eyes closed, listening to the soothing stream of the shower. Soon he ventured further south.

Unlike me, he was not shy at all internet casino about handling my backside. His big hands kneaded both of my cheeks like they were pizza dough. It didn’t feel altogether unpleasant but I thought that I would die of shame, having him touch me so intimately. But all the while he chattered on happily as if this was the most natural thing in the world, for a man to soap up and openly fondle his son-in-law’s ass. His fingers even grazed inside my crack a few times, tapping my hole.

“You’ve got a nice little can, kiddo. And barely any hair at all. I could almost mistake it for a sexy woman’s behind.” His voice on a lusty huskiness, and as he spoke he squeezed my glutes appreciatively, fondling them and cupping them hungrily. I just kept my head lowered and my eyes closed, letting my father-in-law feel me up.

When he was done, he roughly slapped my butt cheek like a coach.

“Atta boy. All clean. Just like how old Kyle used to take care of that little heiney back before your balls dropped.” He joked, referring to my father. I stood there in a daze.

“Come on, let’s hit the steam room.”

Roy claimed both of our towels from their hooks, and grabbed my bicep to march me butt naked from the showers to the club’s narrow steam room. Luckily there was no one else inside. He sat upon his towel, spreading his legs, completely comfortable with himself and his body.

I laid my towel down and sat upon it delicately. Usually I would have covered myself but doing so when he displayed such confidence would have felt unbearably wimpy and self-conscious. And again, that same nagging voice that had encouraged me to kneel, this time bade me to stay naked and exposed. To show him my much smaller endowment, up close.

“Ahhh that’s nice.” The big old man exhaled and leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes. His legs were open and his cock hung down heavily, seizing my gaze.

I couldn’t help but stare at the big dangling cock between his wide-spread legs. Hanging down from a thick bed of gray pubic hair, and resting atop two equally large testicles. Thick and almost maroon colored. It was magnificently hideous. I had never seen one as large as his in person. It looked like it shouldn’t have been attached to a human, but to a monster out of a fairy tale.

I caught myself, dazed after having stared at his hog for several minutes, and looked up to his smiling face.

“You know Billyboy it’s very natural for a little guy like you to be curious about a big old penis like mine. Nothing wrong with it. Go on and take a nice long look, son.” He kicked his leg over so that his foot was propped up to the left of me, on the bench. His heel touched my naked hip as he locked me into the steam room with him.

“Roy, please.” I begged.

“Oh relax. You’re too uptight. We’re both men. We’re family for Christ’s sake. We’re just having cock talk. It’s good for guys to have cock talk like this. It’s healthy. Nothing wrong with it.” He said casually, as if any of this was normal.

“Cock talk?” I asked, my voice a quivering whisper.

“Sure, cock talk. Just two men hanging with their dicks out. It’s the most natural thing in the world.” He said, then he snapped his fingers in my face twice.

“Hey! Now get those eyes back on my penis, mister.” He pointed down at his big dick and obediently my gaze followed. For a few moments we sat in silence as I looked at the fat, flaccid hammer that hung between his hairy thighs.

“It’s big, right son?” He gloated, resting his hands upon his hairy gut and winking at me. He shifted his hips a bit and the big dong rocked back and forth. After a shocked pause I nodded slightly.

“Bigger than Kyle’s?” I gasped. He was asking me to compare the size of his penis to my own father’s. I froze, paralyzed with shame.

“Come on, you’ve seen it, haven’t you? You’ve seen your old man’s pecker, hmm?” He had a mischievous smile on his face as he prodded me.

“Answer me, boy. Have you seen your old man’s pecker?” He raised his hand and crooked his pinky finger at me, clearly implying that my father had a small penis.

“Yes I have.” I admitted in a strangled voice.

“Good. So I want you tell me, is my cock bigger than his little pecker or not? ” I nodded, looking just over his head, unable to meet his amused gaze.

“A lot bigger?” He asked, his voice rich with amused contempt for my father.

I nodded rapidly, shamefully enthused to expose my father. He cracked up with a long peal of cruel, raspy laughter that bounced around the tiled walls of the steam room. I let it wash over me. It felt so wrong, admitting this, divulging this secret. I was betraying my own father to Roy, letting him laugh, revelling in his superiority.

“Goddamn. Poor little Kyle. He as small as you then?” I sat there naked as he interrogated me.

“I think so.” I admitted. My heart was in my throat, I was sweating furiously, flush with shame. I had just told my father-in-law that my actual father had a small dick, while acknowledging that I too was hung like a kid.

“Yeah, that’s right. That’s right boy. Doesn’t it feel good to open up and be honest with me?” He said patiently.

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