An Extremely Unlikely Story

Simon, without a word, led me to the bed. He knelt on it and turned around to face me. "Last chance to say 'no'," he said in a stage whisper.

I had no intention of saying 'no' at this point. I didn't know how to express that, though, so I settled for kissing him again.

"Good answer," the stage whisper said. We smiled at each other.

I shouldn't really describe the slow, sensual and - at times - comical way we removed our clothing. Suffice to say, when you're about to have sex, double-knots in shoelaces are not conducive to quick removal! The bullshit simple, quick, shirt rip-off that you see in Hollywood movies is either extremely well planned or some sort of camera trickery, because all I managed to do was undo a couple of buttons, try to remove the shirt, get it stuck on my head and then argue with the damned thing for a moment until the pair of us finally managed to get it off me.

Ties! Ties are another thing that simply aren't designed to come off quickly. I don't know what kind of knot Simon had in his tie; apparently there are over 177,000 different ways to tie a tie. Whatever one it was, it didn't come undone easily! For a moment, I thought we'd never get it off, but eventually we forced the fucking thing into submission and it joined an increasing pile of discarded material on the floor.

Socks, too. Nice things, socks. I've always had a weird fetish for looking at socks. Nothing sexual, as such. Just - I like looking at them. But when you're about to fuck someone, they are oddly awkward to take off. You could leave them on - they don't interfere with the important stuff, after all, but they just look weird on an otherwise naked person. So, off they came as well.

All of this sounds more like a Keystone Cops farce than an erotic denuding, but actually, it kind of was. The intensity we both showed in removing each others clothes proved to both of us just how much we wanted this. Had there been any doubts in either of us, the problems we had with our unhelpful clothing would have been sufficient to stop us and end the whole thing. Instead, we ploughed through it all purely because we wanted to get to the end result, so to speak.

Eventually, after much difficulty, pain and cursing, we were lying, together, naked on the bed. And we were both very, very hard.

"So," I whispered, still nervous as fuck, "what do we do now?"

"What you do," Simon answered, taking control as I hoped he would, "is lie there, looking fucking ravishing. What I do," he continued, as he slid down the bed, "is this."

So saying, he moved his head level with my crotch and he took my hard dick in his soft, wet, hungry mouth.

I couldn't help it. I gasped. I threw my head back. Not since some months before Jade was born had anyone had my dick in their mouth. Don't get me wrong, Sarah loved to suck my dick, but there is something unpleasant about a person sucking your cock and coughing all over it. The two of us found this disturbing and so cock-sucking happened less and less as her belly filled up with my daughter.

"Holy fucking shit," I muttered. It wasn't, in hindsight, the most original comment I could muster, but it said everything it needed to. "Oh, fuck! Fuck! Yeah! Fuck! It's been so fucking long!"

Simon removed my cock from his mouth and smiled at me. "You've got to be pent up, then," he grinned.

"I... take care of myself," I said, going red.

"Good to know," Simon replied. "If a bit of a waste."

"What else was I supposed to do with it," I asked him.

"Well," Simon said, grinning even more widely, "I am your personal assistant."

"That's not your job title," I grinned back.

"True," he came back. "But I am your assistant and I'm enjoying getting personal!" So saying, he dropped his head back onto my crotch and swallowed my cock.

"Holy shit-balls," I cried out. "Fuck, man! Fuck! Oh, shit! Oh, fuck! Fuck! I'm gonna... I'm gonna cum! Oh, fuck! No! Fuck! Shit! FUCK!" I tried to keep quiet, but couldn't avoid crying out as I blasted rope after rope of cum down his throat. Simon, like the trooper he was, simply swallowed everything I gave him and then went on sucking as if searching for more. After a few moments, he realised that there was no more.

Meanwhile, my head was in my hands and I was as embarrassed as I have ever been in my life. "Oh god! Oh, shit! Sorry! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry," I blathered.

Simon looked up at me and put his finger on my lips. "What are you sorry about," he asked.

"Cumming so quickly," I replied.

Simon simply nodded. "It's OK, baby," he responded. "I knew what I was getting. It's been a difficult year - I knew that. You were never going to last!"

"I normally last longer than that," I countered.

"Babe," he said, staring me in the eye. "I am the best cock-sucker I know. And I know a few! Trust me - you were never going to last!"

"But you didn't get anything out of it," I said. It was a stupid thing to say, and I regretted it almost instantly.

"I think you'll find I did," he smirked back at me. As if to explain to the thicko in front of him, he licked his lips and made an "mmm" sound.

I couldn't help but grin at this. "OK, OK," I said. "Point taken. But still - I can't believe I went off so quickly."

"It's fine," Simon answered me. "You won't blow so fast next time. Which means time for more fun!"

"Fun?"

Simon winked at me and swivelled around, pointing his arse at my face.

I didn't need to be told anything - I'd happily rimmed Sarah many times. I leaned forward and started to kiss his arsehole. Simon moaned as I did so.

Something I had not known how much I would enjoy until I did it for the first time was lick an arsehole. Sarah had begged me to do this several times before I finally cracked under the pressure and - once I did so - I was hooked. As such, I had no compunction whatsoever sliding my tongue into Simon's arse.

"Oh, shit, yeah," Simon moaned. "Fuck! Fuck, I love that! Wow! So many other people don't do that! Fuck! Yeah!"

I wasn't other people and I was determined to prove it. I made slow, sensual love to that arse with my tongue, sliding it in as far as I could go and wiggling it around as best I could in the tight hole. After a few moments of this, I removed my tongue and replaced it with a finger - and then two and three. I interspersed finger-fucking his arse with my tongue and soon Simon was a gibbering mess on my bed. His cock, I was oddly proud to see, was rock hard - mimicking my own.

Finally, he had had enough. "Stop," he cried out. "Stop doing that now. If you're going to fuck me then fuck me. But stop fucking teasing my arse!"

I grinned, wickedly and knelt up. As I did so, I slapped his arse and he almost fell onto the mattress, crying out; "Shit! Fuck!"

"I will," I said. "Right...now."

So saying, I pointed my rock-hard cock at his rear entrance and slowly pushed in. After a moment, the head was past the entrance and I stopped.

"Don't fucking stop there," Simon growled. "Fucking fuck me!"

I creased my forehead in confusion. Sarah and I had done this many times, but she had always asked me to go slowly at first, so I assumed that was what was expected. I began to slide in, slowly, allowing him to get used to...

"Fucking fuck me if your going to fuck me," Simon cried out. "All of it! Now! Fucking plunge that cock in me! I want it! I need it! I can fucking take it! So fucking do it!"

I needed no more instruction. Steadying myself on the mattress, I slammed my cock into his arse in one, fluid motion and my hips slapped off his cheeks.

"Oh, fuck, YEAH! That's it! That's what I wanted! Fucking do it! Fucking do me! Hard! Fast! Rough! Fucking destroy my arse! Do it! Do it! Fucking do it! Now!"

I didn't wait for further instructions. I did exactly as I had been asked. I pounded that arse like a jackhammer, slamming my hips against his cheeks over and over again.

With Sarah, one of my favourite things to do to her arse was to slowly slide almost all the way out before slamming all the way in before repeating the process a few times, varying it every so often so it didn't get boring.

With Simon, I didn't bother with that shit. I slammed his arse hard and fast, just as he kept begging me to.

"Fuck! Yeah! Fuck me! Faster! Harder! Fuck me you big-dicked fucker! Fucking fuck me! Own my arse! Plough me! Fucking pound my arse! Shit! Yeah! Fuck! Oh, fuck!"

I was not silent during this, I hasten to add. "Yeah! Fucking your arse! I'm gonna pound your arse into submission! You're not going to be able to sit down for a fucking week after this! So good! So tight! I love fucking your arse! Yeah! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

All pretence at silence was long gone. The fact that my one-year-old daughter was asleep just a few feet down the hall was of no consequence to either of us. We were fucking for the sake of fucking and fuck everything else.

"Yeah! Fucking pound me! Shit! Fuck! Wow! Yeah! So fucking good! So deep! Shit! Fuck! Ahh! Yeah! Ahh! Fuck! AAHHH!"

"Gonna fuck you good! Gonna fucking tear your arse open! Fuck, yeah! Fuck, yeah!"

"Shit! Fuck! Oh, god! Oh, fuck!" Suddenly, Simon's voice took on a much higher tone as he cried out, "fuck! Shit! Fuck! I'm gonna cum! You're gonna fuck the cum out of me! Fuck! Here I cum! Fuck! Fuck! AHH! FUCK!!!"

Simon's cock, which was busily being slapped against his stomach over and over again by the force of my pounding, suddenly stood as straight as it could get and began spewing out ropes of cum across my bed.

At the same time, I learned that God had made an interesting decision when designing the human male, by linking his orgasmic ejaculations to his arse muscles. Each spurt of cum blasting out of Simon's cock made his arse spasm and grip my cock. Although I hadn't felt close to cumming just moments before, the constant gripping of my cock by his arse was too much to handle.

"Shit! Fuck! Yeah! Gonna cum! You're gonna make me cum!"

"Cum! Cum in my arse! Breed me like a little bitch! Impregnate my arse! Fuck! Yeah! Do it! Fucking cum, you bastard! Cum in my arse!"

I had no intention of doing anything else, not that I am sure I could have done so with his arse muscles gripping my cock like a vice. With a final roar of "YEAH!!!", I slammed my cock in as far as I could and unloaded my cum deep into his bowels.

"Fuck! I can feel you cumming in my arse! Shit! Fuck! Yeah! Oh, fuck! I'm gonna cum again!"

Simon's poor, badly bruised and abused cock couldn't handle the pressure. It tried to fight the good fight and cum, but could only manage a measly, pathetic squirt that wasn't worthy of the name 'orgasm'. But it did cause his arse muscles to contract one more time, milking the last drops of cum from my own cock.

Slowly, we collapsed to the bed from exhaustion. Simon lay in a pool of his own cum, and, as I withdrew myself, my cum began leaking out of his arse and dripping down his perineum to mingle on the bedspread with his. We lay, together, gasping for breath and sweating, profusely.

I don't know how long it took me to realise that I could hear a noise that usually had me responding in a second, even if I had just been sleeping deeply, but I slowly came to the realisation that I could hear Jade crying in her room.

I leapt off the bed and, not bothering with clothes (she was a year old and had seen me walking into her room naked after getting out of bed many times before), I ran to her room and picked her up. I held her, close to my chest and cooed and made those silly, soothing sounds parents make to little crying babies that make fuck-all sense, but which seem to calm them down.

Within a minute, she had, indeed, calmed down and, after a quick nappy sniff to confirm that she didn't need changing, I settled her down and kissed her forehead. I stroked her hair from her face and rubbed my finger on her cheek, still muttering baby nonsense. She smiled at me a little, but her eyes were already closing and less than a minute after I laid her down, she was flat out again.

I pulled the blanket over her, stroked her little face one more time and went back to my room. Whereupon, I came across another little face that was fast asleep. Poor little simon - the exercise had clearly been too much for him. His mouth was wide open and he was snoring loudly. I smirked at him, covered him up as best I could with an old dressing gown I had (he was still lying atop the duvet in the puddle of cum) and slipped into the bed beside him.

I don't remember putting my head on the pillow, but when I opened my eyes at just before seven o'clock, it was on there, so I can only assume I managed it somehow.

The bed next to me was empty. I dragged my arse out of bed and wandered around the house.

Simon was nowhere to be seen.

Our relationship didn't last much longer, I was sad to discover. Simon had a boyfriend to whom, just a day after I awoke to find him not in my bed, he got engaged and would marry later that year. By that time, he and I were no longer even on speaking terms, though I never understood what it was I did wrong. I tried to talk to him and got nowhere. My texts were ignored if they were personal and responded to in a monosyllabic way if they were about work. He simply fucked me and fucked off. I can't say it didn't hurt.

Simon died about two years after he got married and about six months after he got divorced. I don't know how, exactly, but he was found in a car which was partially submerged in a river. He'd been dead for some time before they found him.

I read about it in the paper and I couldn't help but cry. Jade, who was at home when I read the news - it being a Saturday - couldn't understand why daddy was crying. She was only three and a bit by then. I explained that an old friend had gone away and, in that lovely way of a three-year-old, she simply accepted that and went off to watch Peppa Pig.

Over the first eighteen years of Jade's life, I had sex with about a dozen or so different guys and maybe half that many women. I admit it; I enjoyed sex with both genders, but was always careful after that first time with Simon. I always wore protection - especially with the women. The last thing I needed was a half-sister or half-brother to Jade trying to take my attention away from my little girl.

None of these relationships lasted more than a few weeks and most were over before the sun rose up. I enjoyed sex, but I didn't need it. Going without for a few weeks or months (or, at one point, just short of two years) was not a problem for me.

Jade, on the other hand, became my world. I watched her grow up to be an amazing young woman who was both athletic and smart - a combination that made her extremely happy, but also made had her treated like a plague victim by most boys. The smart boys were afraid of her athleticism and the athletes didn't want a smart girlfriend. Teenage boys can be wankers at times. (Not like that!)

Jade also found it difficult to make friends with girls. Her interests were too diverse for most of them. Again, the smart girls didn't want to be friends with an athlete, whilst the sporty girls were afraid she was too clever for them. Teenage girls can be wankers at times, too!

Nevertheless, Jade didn't give two shits about her lack of girl-friends (or girlfriends) or boyfriends. She had me and that was enough for both of us. I was a willing taxi driver, team supporter, chef, cleaner, ironer and storyteller. Even into her late teens, she demanded that I read her a chapter before bed. Some people (sick minded individuals for the most part) might think that odd or even perverse, but it was what Jade wanted and what Jade wanted daddy gave her, as long as it was within daddy's power to give it. If my little girl wanted a story before bed, even as she turned eighteen, then a story before bed was what she got and fuck the rest of you if you don't like it.

As she grew older, Jade started to do more around the house. She would clean and vacuum and polish once a week. She would attempt to cook (though neither of us can claim to be any fucking good at it, even now), but her one attempt at ironing almost burned the house down and ruined my favourite shirt at the same time, so I got lumbered with that crappy job permanently.

It was also rare for anyone but me to call her Jade. When she was first born, Sarah regularly merged her forenames, Jade Louise, together and began to call her J-Lo, like Jennifer Lopez, who was a minor big thing at the time. As Jade grew up, I also started calling her J-Lo and the nickname stuck. It was so common, that even her name on the back of one of her goalkeeper shirts was written as J-Lo.

But when she was about nine, she asked me not to call her J-Lo any more and to simply call her Jade.

"Don't you like the nickname any more, sweetie?"

"I do, daddy, but... I want just you to call me just Jade. It's like a secret name for just you and me."

It was about as secret as the fact that the moon isn't made of green cheese, but she liked to think of it that way, so I just nodded and kept my opinions to myself.

At nineteen, she met Wayne.

Ah, Wayne. Now there was a complete tosser. Pimples until Tuesday, a buzz-cut that he thought made him look like a bad-ass, but actually made him look like a slightly furry egg and an unfortunate case of BO that no amount of deodorant could quite cover up.

But he was the first guy who spoke to Jade like she was a real person and not a weirdo. So, naturally, Jade was totally infatuated with him, for about six months.

It was not far short of the end of that six months that Jade first found out that Daddy liked boys. I didn't mean it to happen. It wasn't supposed to happen. It just... did.

Jade and Wayne were going out for a meal and then heading to the cinema to watch a movie before making their way to Wayne's apartment for some personal time.

I knew my little girl had had sex - she had told me all about it within hours of it first happening; a conversation that shall forever be burned into my brain behind a locked door marked "FUCKING EMBARRASSING MEMORIES - DO NOT OPEN. EVER!" The idea was no longer new to me and, whilst I considered Wayne to be about six leagues beneath my little girl, if she wanted to fuck his brains out, who was I to interfere. I had brought Jade up to understand that she made her own mistakes and would be expected to pay for them but she was too infatuated to realise that Wayne was one big old mistake.

Since my little girl was out for the evening, I decided to see if I could find a willing person to dip the old wick into. I scanned the local people on the usual sites and came up with slightly less than fuck all. Disappointed that I was not going to have a fun evening, I went out to the local petrol station to pick up some milk and picked up Julian as well.

Julian looked about three days past his eighteenth birthday (though he was actually nearly twenty) and flaming as a well-stoked fireplace. Billy Butlin himself couldn't have created enough camp for him. He strode into the petrol station with a walk containing enough mince to make spaghetti bolognese for about a dozen people and simply called out "Hello!"

Three people in the petrol station stared at him with varying degrees of disgust and/or disappointment. I felt sorry for poor Julian, who was simply being friendly - if a little too friendly. OK - a lot too friendly! As such, I put on my best Ru Paul voice on as I called back "Hi, sweetie-pie!"

"Ooh! A nice young Daddy for me to get to know better," Julian called back and minced over to me and thrust his hand in mine so quickly I didn't have time to react. "And who might you be," he asked.