Here’s a sample from Taboo Night-Time Affair: The Drill Sergeant, a new story of hardcore gay pseudoincest military brat sex!
Sammy was glad to be home from college. He had been excited to get out of high school, out of the family home, out of the tiny town of Carlisle, Wyoming he had grown up in. He didn’t regret leaving, of course, and he enjoyed college. It was just nice to be back in his old bed, under the same old roof and cozied up in the same old sheets. Everyone who said you can’t go home again were wrong, Sammy thought as he settled down in bed. He was so comfortable and secure that he nearly drifted right off to sleep.
But then the door to his room opened, and Sammy’s heart leapt up in his chest. He had begun dozing but managed to keep himself awake — he didn’t want to sleep yet because he wasn’t sure if Daddy was coming to see him in his room tonight or not. He normally only did it when he was drunk, but he had only had one beer tonight. Still, Sammy hoped he would make an exception, and when his door open, Sammy’s heart pounded as it always did — Daddy’s broad shoulders and military crewcut cast a sexy silhouette. Light and cold air from the hallway flooded Sammy’s room, but only for a moment. Then he shut the door, and the room was dark again, except for the dim green light coming from Sammy’s charging cell phone.
Then there was just Daddy standing there, his muscular body flexing as he watched Sammy lay prone on the bed. As he always did, Sammy pretended to be asleep. He was pretty sure Daddy knew he wasn’t asleep, but that made it easier for them both to pretend it hadn’t happened tomorrow. Their shared refusal to acknowledge their affair in the light of day made it all the sexier for Sammy.
Daddy had been sneaking into Sammy’s room to fuck him every couple of weeks since he married Sammy’s mom. Back then, Sammy had hated him — he was the evil stepfather as far as Sammy was concerned.
But the older he got, the less he hated Daddy (or Daddy Mike, as he sometimes called him). Daddy was a drill sergeant at Fort D.A. Russell, and Sammy knew that was a difficult job; it was stressful, and it often left him coming home from work upset. He had to deal with the cadets he called “shitweasels”, meaning spoiled, entitled brats who needed a stern hand.
That stern hand landed on Sammy’s back. Sammy stirred, pretending that he was just now waking up. He loved the tender feel of Daddy’s strong grip on his skin.
“Sssh,” Daddy said. “It’s just me, Sammy. It’s okay.”
“Oh, hi…” Sammy said, trying to sound as groggy as he could. This was his little ritual, pretending to have no idea Daddy was there, that he was alarmed, maybe even frightened to have this big, imposing figure looming above him in the darkness.
“How you doin’?” His fingers caressed Sammy’s shoulders, running underneath the t-shirt he slept in to touch Sammy’s smooth skin. “I know you said everything was fine at dinner. But I thought maybe there was somethin’ you ain’t wanna tell yer momma.”
Sammy shrugged. “No,” he said. “Well… Nothing major.”
“Tell me about it, son,” Daddy said. He sat down on the edge of the bed, weighing down the mattress with his powerful ass. Sammy was forced next to him, and for a moment, Sammy’s face was buried in his asscrack. Daddy wore only those Army-issue green shorts, which were thin, so Sammy could feel every hair of his stepfather’s ass rub against his face. He curled himself around Daddy’s body, hugging him close, and rested his head against Daddy’s thick thigh muscle.
“I… I like this girl,” Sammy said. “But I don’t think she likes me.”
Daddy smiled. “That’s normal, son. Just be yourself-“
“Well… I should say I do know, I know that she doesn’t like me,” Sammy said. “She said so.”
Daddy clucked his tongue against his teeth. “Oh, that’s tough. It happens though.” He patted Sammy on the back of the head.
“I know. I just… I thought I loved her. I thought she was The One,” Sammy said. “Before I talked to her outside of class. I had… I’m sorry, it’s embarrassing.”
“Go ahead, son, you can tell me anything.”
“I had a fantasy of us getting married,” Sammy said. He bit his lip. “I had it all worked out. I was already naming our kids.”
“I wanted to name our first son Michael.”
Sammy nodded and blushed, glad that Daddy couldn’t see his cheeks turn ruddy in the dark room — Sammy had hated Daddy Mike for so long that it was tough to admit that he loved him now, even if they had been getting along for almost a year before Sammy left for college. Daddy sniffled. Sammy got the impression he was teary-eyed.
“That’s sweet, son,” Daddy said; since he was emotional, his Alabama accent came to the fore, which Sammy enjoyed — he had always thought it was sexy. Daddy cleared his throat. “You know how many girls were The One befo’ yer momma? Six. No, wait, seven. I used to fall in love like some of my cadets fall off they bunk. I don’t even remember most of those girls’ names. Once you finally meet her, the woman you gonna spend the rest of yer life with, everything that happened before that is gonna seem like irrelevant ancient history.”
“I guess so.”
“She weren’t right for ya, Sammy. I can tell that just from how you talk about her,” he said. His hand roamed down Sammy’s back, then crept under the blankets. He touched Sammy’s asscheeks. “You’s a perfect boy; you deserve a perfect girl.”
“What if she’s not out there?”
“She is,” he said, “and until then, you got me.” His hand crept under Sammy’s sweatpants and onto his asscheeks. His fingers were rough and callused, which Sammy always thought should feel scratchy on his skin, but didn’t. It felt correct, exactly the way he wanted to be touched.
One of his fingers pressed right at the surface of Sammy’s asshole. He didn’t go in yet, he just circled the rim, sending little shocks of sexual pleasure up Sammy’s spine. Sammy began breathing heavy, glad that they were going to fuck tonight. It was a nice little welcome home present, he thought.