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Getting Horny for Daddy
Andy McAllister
Copyright 2012 by Andy McAllister
panda.andy.mcallister@gmail.com
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
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Getting Horny for Daddy
Chapter One
“I hate this,” I said to my two best friends, Brad and Tommy. They had come over to spend the night with me, but we were stuck in my bedroom, which was the standard size these days for small bedrooms in tract houses in rural neighborhoods.
“Why?” Brad asked, looking around my room. “It’s just the same thing you’ve always had. Maybe a little cleaner,” he shrugged.
“That’s the whole point,” I countered. “It is the same thing I’ve always had. It’s the same goddamn fucking room I grew up in and I’m too goddamn old to be living with my parents.” I was in a mood and my friends could tell. But what was the sense in being legally an adult if I had to live at home in the same damn tiny room I had grown up in?
“I had my own place for awhile. I liked living on my own. It was great. It was freedom. It was…”
“A trap that Owen designed for you,” Tommy said, his eyebrows arched upward in the center. “Then he kicked you out and forced you to move back here.”
I sighed. “Yeah,” I said. That was the truth. I hadn’t really been out on my own. I had moved in with my boyfriend, who was two years older than me and had an apartment downtown. It seemed like the perfect solution to living at the time, but then Owen got it into his head that I owed him big time for “allowing” me to move in with him. I didn’t see things the same way and so when I came home from work the other day all my shit was packed up and sitting out in the hallway outside his apartment door. And it wasn’t even packed well, just kinda thrown together in my two suitcases and a bunch of plastic goddamn grocery bags. Asshole. Anyone could’ve come along and stolen my shit, and then where would I be?
Brad looked up at me, his eyes saying he had something to ask, but he was the quiet one of us three. He was the one who had waited the longest in keeping his virginity, which as far as I knew he still had, at least with his ass, he certainly didn’t have a virginal cock or mouth, I knew that as fact. Something about not having found a guy he could trust not to break his heart and if he knew a guy was going to dump him after taking his virginity, why give it up in the first place? Tommy was the wild child among us and had lost his virginity a long time ago. I won’t even say how young he was when he got popped, but it’s been awhile.
Me? Hell I had given it up to Owen a long time ago. He was older and I thought he was so cool. Now I know him for the total asswipe he is and fuck him all to hell anyway. Piss-headed bastard.
“What?” I finally barked at Brad, regretting it immediately. He was one of my two best friends and didn’t deserve my shit-eating attitude, but I was royally pissed and it showed.
“I – I was just wondering – so Owen really expected you to – put out – to his friends when they came over to – the apartment?”
God, he just had to fucking say it, didn’t he? My eyes got big and wide and the look on Brad’s face – you could tell I was scaring him. He cringed – he actually cringed – and pulled himself into the corner at the head of my bed. Then I got hold of myself and calmed down. It wasn’t Brad’s fault Owen was a pig and pervert and asswipe motherfucker. I smiled at him the best I could and shook my head.
“That dumb shit told me I had to pay my way living at his apartment. He told me I could either service his friends or get the hell out. He actually brought one guy – I think his name was Terry, that big, stupid fuck who was on the football team with him and looks like a semi truck cab, into the bedroom where I was sleeping – sleeping! Can you believe it? And he told me to wake the fuck up and give Terry a blow job!”
“Are you shitting me?” Tommy was grinning and sat forward in the middle of the bed. Nothing I said or did affected Tommy. Like I said, he was the wild child and the most compulsive of us three. “Terry came in to get a beej and you didn’t blow him?” He started laughing and rocked back on my bed. I looked away from him.
“I suppose you would’ve done him?” I asked nonchalantly, looking away in embarrassment.
“Not only would have, I have done him. Blow job, ass-fucking. For a big boy he’s really not much in the cock department. His weenie is like three inches soft and only about five fully erect, so it was like – ‘stick it in my ass? Sure, why not? Can’t possibly hurt.’” He laughed – too loud. “Hell, I’ve had lots bigger than that shoved up my…”
“Okay…” Brad interrupted. He was clearly disturbed by the whole issue of corn-holing, as my dad always called it. “So you moved back in here with your folks. Not a bad situation. I never moved out from my parents’ house. I like living there. It’s comfy.”
I snorted and shook my head. “Yeah, but your mom and dad both have great jobs. Your room is as big as the living room in this dump.”
“It’s not a dump,” Tommy smirked at my attitude. “Brad’s right for once. This is a cool room. It’s still got your posters of the KinKi Kids and Taylor Swift on the walls,” he laughed, rocking back on the bed and hitting his head against the wall. Serves him right. He always made fun of my taste in music idols. So I liked the KinKi Kids. Big deal? They were both cute and so was Taylor. I loved her songs and at one point a few years back I had dreamed of being her. No one ever said I was masculine, okay? My dad called her songs “bubblegum country”. His own phrase, I think. Never heard anyone else say it. But I liked the songs. I identified with them a lot. The words she sang went straight to my heart and spoke to the romantic “little girl” in me.
I looked up at my posters. Okay, maybe it was time to upgrade and put up posters of new music idols. Or none at all.
Suddenly I leapt up from the bed and ripped both posters off the wall and tore them into shreds. Brad looked scared. Tommy smirked and shook his head. My BFFs. We were such a great team together. Right.
We talked and watched some TV and then it was late – like two in the morning late – so we finally went to bed. Actually, Brad was already sacked out. He had fallen asleep on the floor next to the bed and was almost under the bed, which wasn’t easy, since it was so close to the floor. Tommy curled up with me on the bed and we cuddled, my bed being only a twin size like all of us had growing up. We liked cuddling. Hell, we liked a lot more than cuddling, as Tommy proved to me when he leaned in and kissed me – full on the mouth. Nothing new. We’d been making out together for a long time. Boy on boy was hot. We all loved it.