Speaker 1: Before we dive into today's fantasy, I want to take
a moment, just the two of us to talk about
something that could well could change or experience of pleasure forever.
Have you ever found yourself closing your eyes during a story,
feeling the words wrap around you, pulling you into a
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come and see me at wildin bed dot com. I'm
waiting for you. I'm waiting for you to take the
next step into your deepest desires. So let's begin, shall we. Hi,
It's Devlin and welcome to another Wilder Bed. So get
your butt on that bed. You know these stories about
enjoyed on your bed. Put your ear buds in, just
take a nice deep breath, let it go with a sigh.
All the stresses and strains of the week, just go,
just relax for the next half an hour or so.
This is your time, your pleasure, So close your eyes.
Simon sucked in a lengthy breath, swallowing the long list
of explets on the tip of his tongue, determined to
regain his composure. A blush of embarrassment burned warmly across
his body. What had they been discussing? Was this all
a set up? Simon fucking hated feeling out of sorts
around his father. He'd always been so judgmental, so quick
to blame. He'd always looked down as Simon with disappointment
lingering in his eyes, dropping his head a knee jerk
reaction he'd had since his youth. When being confronted with
this sexuality in front of Daddy, Simon silently stared at
his feet. Simon, lift your head, boy, chose some respect
to your new assistant, Joel. Daddy growled with the all
too familiar belittling tone he always used towards Simon, cursing
under his breath again. Simon lifted his head, his eyes
tracing the surfaces bodies while knots curled painfully in his stomach.
His eyes were glued to the world. Tailored trousers he
filled out beautifully, the shirt that barely concealed his firm chest,
and the rippling muscles Simon knew flaxed just underneath. Hi, Joel,
very nice to meet you. I look forward to having
you around. Joel's eyes weren't on Simon's. Instead, they were
on Daddy, a scowl burnning deep in his face, while
his lips twisted in a disgusted, vicious sneer. Releasing a
long sigh, he at last turned towards Simon and lifted
a hand to invite a handshake. Pleased to meet you, Simon,
tell me do you surf? With a slight sparkle in
his gaze, a smile beamed over Joel's face. Joel's eyebrows
lifted and he winked at Simon, a sign their secret
was safe. With Joel's hand grasping Simon's, his fingers slowly
slid back, releasing the handshaken, setting off electricity through Simon's body.
I'd like for Simon and I to take a walk,
get to know each other better, set out some ground rules.
With a bend of a smile, still covering his thick lips,
an automatic erection began igniting inside Simon's pants. Oh, and
he gestured between the two of them with a look
of confusion. Of course, Come, Simon, let's take in the
afternoon sun by the beach. There's a great little Caribbean
bar there, you know. Joel's ham moved down Simon's bag,
gently yet possessively, with his thumb tracing a line down
his spine. Joel quickly hushed Simon through the main door
and out into the afternoon sun. His eyes blinked and
then began watering in the sudden exposure to the bright light.
But Joel was unyielding and impatient. Walk quickly, Simon, you
know the way we obviously need to talk, Joel commanded,
his domineering words sounding even more forceful through gritted teeth
had seemed like a lengthy walk earlier. In a little
under five minutes, they were already inside, seated and ordering
two rum and cokes. Joel turned to Simon, his eyes
intense and cold. Okay, first things first, Simon, do you
know what daddy spitting the daddy for effect, with a
look of disgust moving over his face before continuing, does
for a living? Of course? I know he's an accountant, yes,
but an accountant for whom Joel's voice was stern and
matter of fact. He sipped to his drink, his eyes
on Simon's. I don't really know some enormous company, I suppose.
Simon never really asked questions about his dad's career. They
simply weren't close that way. In fact, they weren't close
at all. All Simon knew was that his dad worked
with numbers, and they lived a life of wealth and privilege.
What difference does it make when my dad works. I'm
sure he will pay you fairly. Okay, let's start at
the beginning, Joel said, with a sigh at Simon's naive response.
But first, let's order another round of drinks. You're going
to need him. With the bar all but empty, with
the chill of the early evening, having driven all the
surfers home, their order was taken almost instantly. Your daddy,
Joel says, while sneering, works for a crime family. He
was their accountant at one time, but ultimately fell out
of favor after making some terrible and unforgivable mistakes. He
was very lucky to keep his life. Joel pauses for
another sip of a drink, giving Simon a chance to
digest this fresh information crime mistakes. This wasn't my father,
rules were never to be broken under Daddy's roof, and
mistakes they simply weren't acceptable. They offered him a way
to redeem himself, as once he held a very good
standing within the family. Joel took another sip, savoring the
taste in a rather overly dramatic fashion. At the time,
the family was going through a terrible period. They had
many enemies, many people that would like no more than
to see a member of the family dead. A severe
darkness settles over Jill's face. His jewel titans. The boss
was blessed with a son during this time and naturally
concerned for his safety. So they decided Daddy, Joel says,
with that same sneer as before, would foster this son
and raise him as his own. Inconspicuous he would disappear
into normal society until he was eighteen. Joel took another sip,
while all this time Simon had yet to take a
single swallow. In two days, you will be eighteen. I
am here to guide you through the transition back into
the family. Joel's eyes were fixed on Simon's, holding his
gaze and waiting for a response. Seeing none, Joel continued,
your actual father knows of your sexual preferences, and you
can enjoy those discreetly. Yet eventually you will be expected
to take a wife and raise children. But for now,
you can enjoy his life's pleasures as you wish. Confusion
burns through Simon's mind. Almost eighteen years of history has
been destroyed in the space of just five minutes. He
reaches for his drink and swallows a large golb. So
let me get this clear, Simon says, with his stomach
twisting and turning. Daddy isn't daddy, He's only a stand in.
I'm the son of a mafia boss, and I can
enjoy being gay again. With his mind a confused blur,
his stare hardened on Joe, not quite believing what he
was hearing. Is this what you're telling me? That's about it, Capo.
In a few days you will have more men around you,
your soldiers, if you wish. Then, once everything is settled
and secure, your father, your real father, will come and visit.
Images floods Simon's mind, carnal scenes fueled by years of repression,
urges he'd hidden most of his life. Army, he mused.
His erection grew painfully hard in his pants. Joel leans forward,
his cologne a rousing Simon still further. His lips teased
up Simon's neck, stopping just underneath his ear. I'm yours
to command, Capo. This thing with you and me, he
gestured between them, is just beginning. He bloomed in Simon's
groin as Joel pressed a firm hand against his thigh
before easing upward and squeezing his aching heart on through
his pants, the power of his thumb pressing firmly along
every inch Jesus. Simon's voice cracked, lust coiling in his belly.
I want you back in the house with me now.
I have years to make up for and I intend
on starting today, right now. Desperation seeps through Simon's voice.
This all seems like a dream, a fantasy fuck. Someone
never thought any of these things would happen to him.
Simon swallows. I'm ready. Joel pulls in a slow breath
and looks at Simon with a stir and face. Okay,
but remember you left the house as Simon. You're returning
as the Capo, a general, a warlord. From this moment,
things will be different. Daddy will be different. You're to
call him Marcus in the future. Simon strode back to
the house with desire, at lust, and a certainty of
his future, all fueling his gait. Joel maintained a position
two steps behind him, watchful aware. All Simon could think
about was the burning erection in his pants, the long
periods of frustration, the days and years wondering how he
could live this life. Now it was only minutes from ending,
his whole life would be a different one this time tomorrow.
Digging a breath before he pushed at the door, Joel
whispered gently, Remember it's your house now, Capo, yours. The
house seems eerily quiet. As the door swings open out
of pure habit, Simon wonders where Daddy Marcus could be.
He walked into Marcus's office. All his paperwork had been cleared,
the boxes of books taken away. Nothing remained between the
dark walls, but a few pieces of stationary on top
of the mahogany desk. A shadow in the doorway causes
Simon to pivot. Marcus stands behind him, humble, meek, Capo,
I'm just moving the rest of my paperwork to my room.
I have instruction of where I am to go. Next,
But with your permission, I shall stay on here for
a few more days until the position is ready. Shifting uneasily,
Marcus's gaze drops downwards, fixating on his feet. All the
arrogance of the past eighteen years were gone, sucked from
his body. Marcus was a different man, Very good Marcus,
but only of it's for a few days. Simon was
trying his best to sound bold, to come across powerful,
and to sound like what he believed a capo should
sound like. He watched Marcus clear the last few pieces
from the desk, the same deaths that had seen Simon
thrashed for his desires, the desks that had seen him
scolded on so many occasions for his stupidity. That desk
that tomorrow Simon promised himself would burn until it was
a little more than a pile of white ash. But
today he had a plan for that desk and its
symbol of Daddy's authority. Marcus, your room, it's right above here,
isn't it, Simon smiled, knowing for what it was. Yes, Capo,
Marcus replied, shuffling his feet nervously, his eyes struggling to
stay on his Say nothing more, Marcus, collected the last
of his belongings and backed out of the room, trying
to bow without dropping everything on to the floor. Leave
the door open, Marcus, this room needs an airing to
remove it of the bitterest tench that seems to be here. Solemnly,
Marcus backs into the corridor, the creaking of the old
oak staircase showing his departure. As his door closes upstairs
with a loud click, Simon feels his transformation has truly begun.
What now, capo, Joel ventures, Now we wait for a
few minutes, let the old man settle. Then I will
fuck you the way I want to fuck you, over
that desk, in that chair with no loops beside the
spit from my mouth, and you, Joel, will scream as
loudly as you can until you feel my cock jetting
come inside your hole. Simon could feel the same wicked
pleasure he felt in his chest, glinting in his eyes.
His pulse races at the thoughts and images in his head,
words falling from his lips that he'd never anticipated speaking.
For the next few days, he will hear every moan,
every gasp, every orgasm until I've given him a lasting
memory of the years of suffering he put me through,
a memory he shall never forget. Sitting in the leather
off his chair for the first time in eighteen years,
it surprises Simon how genuinely comfortable it was. Pausing for
a moment, he rubs a hand over his stubbled chin.
Debating what he desires the most. Joel strip for me. Slowly, seductively,
joel sly smile hardens every inch of Simon's cock. He
never wanted a man this intensely, this desperately. He wanted
to feel every inch of himself through Joel's pocket hole
and fucking mentally screams his name. Joel slides his jacket off,
placing it over an occasional chair in the corner. He
turns back to face Simon, then dips his head slightly, soberly,
so beautifully submissive, with his body a statue of beautiful,
hard muscle, day's old stubble covering his square jawline, and
those sky blue eyes flashing with lust and desire. Joel's
beautiful lips formed another mischievous smile as his fingers slid
down his dark blue shirt. Slowly, provocatively, wickedly, he pops
each button open, exposing his rippled chest that was toned
and smooth beneath the silken material. Simon could see Joel
tweaking his nipples, twisting them, tugging at them, his lips
falling open with a gasp of desire. Automatically, Simon's eyes
dropped to the tent in Joel's hands, watching his erection
swell and elongate behind the soft, tailored material, forcing his
own cock to become painfully hard as he tries his
best to keep from coming all over himself. Joel pushes
the flat of his palm down his tone dabs, forcing
his shirt completely open and out of his pants. Samon
gasp with desire. Seeing his body exposed like this was
so much more seductive than seeing him in the shower
a few short hours earlier. Sliding his thumb slowly through
the fastening on his belt, easing it apart. His pants
visibly loosened, filling Simon with the anticipation of savoring his
hard cock again. Willing his pants to drop, Simon's hand
squeezes his aching heart on his kneed, stretching firmer than
Simon ever remembered, painfully pushing against his pants. Simon resists
her age to stroke himself, instead choosing to savor this
beautiful display in front of him and buckling his waistband.
Joel's pants fall to the ground definitely. He slips his
shoes off and steps from the pile of clothing around
his ankle, his eraction pressed hard against his black microbriefs,
promising so much pleasure that it strained the material. Simon's
tongue dances over his mouth, the desire to taste Joel again,
drying his lips. Joel turns on a hill, showing Simon
his tight ass as his fingers slide inside his underwear,
easing them over his hips. Simon's skin the heats, his
heart racing in his ears as he mumbles as silent
inside his ass, almost as if he heard Simon. Joel
turns and saunters towards him until he stands only inches
away from Simon's leg. Simon's gaze is glued against Joe
as he watches him push his long fingers underneath his waistband,
his hand moving over his hard cock and forcing it
to swell. Your neck is flushed, Joel whispers. Joel's eyes
are intensely blue, his grip tightens over his cock. He
slides his briefs down, dropping them over its thighs his erections.
Standing proud in the evening sun. Straddling Simon's sigh, Joel
pushes his hot and hard cock slowly up and down,
inch by salacious inch, edging towards Simon's owner, aching erection
as they connect through the material of his pants. Simon's
cock twitches furiously, throbbing with need, pulsing with desire, leaking
with arousal, placing the flat of his palm firmly down
on his cock as he thrusts gently along Simon's length.
Joel forces them together, his thrust becoming slowly harder, slowly
more desperate, more urgent, pushing his finger through Simon's hair,
pulling his head back. Electricity crackles between them as Joel's
eyes settle on Simon's, neither of them speaking with lust
burning between them, Joel's lips drop onto Simon's, where they
embrace into a hard, deep and passionate kiss. Joel continues
thrusting along Simon's length, pulling away from his lips. Simon's
intensity held by Joel's dark who had gazed for a moment,
suck me, but not enough to make me come, not yet.
Dropping dutifully to his knees, jol unfastened Simon's waistband, slipping
his sipper down slowly and easing his hard cock from
his shorts. Joel's abser blue eyes glisten as he kisses
up and down Simon's shaft, his tongue teasing at every inch,
his eyes never leaving Simon's gaze. Watching every reaction move
over Simon's face, Joel smiles, mischievously, caressing his balls, massaging
them as his lips move in a gently perfect slide
over the thick bulb of Simon's cock. His tongue dances
around Simon's slip, teasing him, forcing him to grow even harder. Slowly,
he slides his lips down the full length of Simon's shaft,
dragging his teeth with a delicious sting, his eyes never
leaving Simon's, his tongue flicking, circling, teasing as his mouth
moves up and down, slowly, gently, then faster, harder. A
low guttural moon drops from Simon's lips, pushing Joel's mouth
up and down his shaft even faster. Oh got cho
I feel so fucking cud. Simon cries, his moon's growing
louder as Joel's fingers massages Bull's firmly. Simon's fingers find
their way through Joel's wavy hair over the desk. Now,
I want your sweet ass. Joel stands and bends his
body over the desk, parting his thighs at a tents
Waiting wanting, Joel pushes the chair back and parts Joel's cheeks,
then pushes two fingers roughly inside, thrusting deep and touching
their special spot. His urgent lust overpowering any need for
care or sensitivity. With Joel's moons growing his ass clutching
at Simon's fingers, Simon harshly commands, caol my name, Tell
me what you want Joel, you Simon, I want your
hard cock in my ass, But louder, how much do
you want it? Joel? Tell me fuck Simon. I want
your hard cock in my ass more than anything. I
want you to fuck me. Please. Joel's cries and need
resonating through the house. Good boy, Simon says, roughly, removing
his fingers. Simon takes himself between his palms and feeds
the thickhead of his leaking cock into the tight pucket
hole between Joel's cheeks, with no compassion, no empathy, and
with not so much of a splatter of loube. Simon
knew it had to hurt as Joel grasped the desk visibility, gasping,
his fingertips digging into the edge of the wood, while
Simon furiously forces himself through the first ring of muscle
and the next, until every hinch of him was inside,
pounding desperately, forcing Joel's hips back against his with every
punishing thrust. Tell me how it Tell me how it feels, Joel,
Tell me how it feels, Joel Simon's voice ragged with desire.
It feels so fucking good. It feels so fucking good,
Joel responds, breathlessly, both their bodies covered in the light sweat.
And what feels so good, Joel, Simon asks, in the
tone forceful, hard, domineering. You fucking my ass, Joe Grass,
it feels so damn good, louder, Simon assists again, God, Simon,
you fuck my ass so damn good. So perfectly is
thrust forceful and needy. Oh God, I'm coming Joel, I'm
coming fucking hard, his loud moan sounding like a roar,
as his cock explodes inside Joel's tight ass, pulsing threads
of warm ejaculate. As the last drops have come fils
Joel's ass, his pulse is slow, his breath becoming a low,
panting turn around, Simon whispers, I want to watch you
bring yourself off. Simon's softening erection drops from Joel's ass
as he sits back in the chair. Joel grasps his
erection firmly in his hand, stretching his fingers around its girth,
his hand beginning to slide slowly up and down, his
eyes hooded against Simon's beaming with lust and a ferocious need.
Tell me how it feels, Joel, Fuck, it feels so good, Simon,
he cries obediently. I want you to come on my chest,
over my nipples. Simon unbuttons his shirt, quickly, exposing his
smooth tone chest. Oh God, Simon, I'm coming, John moans
loudly as creamy white ejaculate explodes from his cock and
over Simon's nipples. Joel leans back against the death for stability, panting,
his pulse racing his legs trembling loock it off Joel
every last drop. Lowering his head, Joel sucks hungrily at
the seamen from Simon's nipples, savoring his taste with long,
broad licks of his tongue until every last drop is gone.
Simon moans his pleasure loudly as Joel bites down on
his nipple. Gently kiss me, Joel, I want to taste you.
Kiss me, Joel, I want to taste you. Simon whispers,
with warm longing without waging. Joel's lips embraced Simon's, their
tongues exploring each other's mouths urgently and sharing the taste
of Joel's pleasure. Slowly, their kisses become more gentle, more sensuous,
Simon running his fingers through Joel's hair, once more, holding
his head to meet his gaze, Kissing him gently. Joel whispers,
do you think he got the message? Simon smiles warmly,
unless he's fucking deaf. I think he did, loud and clear.
Their lips embrace once more, their kisses intimate and slow.
So I hope you enjoyed that little piece of salicious fun.
So until next week, and always with your pleasure in mind,
This is definitely while saying salacious dreams at the sat
In display and d into state the aducted into atticate,
stucted