Sinful Retreat: Forbidden Flames in the Wild 💋
Under the title, quick nav: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Jump to Chapter 6
Chapter 1: Whispers of the Lake
The gravel crunched under the tires of Marcus’s battered pickup as it pulled up to the secluded lakeside cabin. Dusk painted the water in bruised purples and golds, the air thick with pine sap and the faint rot of wet earth. Liam stepped out first, his lean frame stretching after the long drive from the city, dark curls tousled by the mountain wind. At twenty-three, he carried the wiry build of a trail runner, all sharp angles and restless energy. Marcus, his father, followed—forty-eight years of hard labor etched into his broad shoulders, salt-and-pepper beard framing a jaw set like weathered oak.
“Finally,” Liam breathed, slinging his pack over one shoulder. The cabin squatted low against the treeline, its logs darkened by decades of rain, windows glowing faintly from the generator’s hum. No cell service up here, no neighbors for miles. Just father and son, escaping the grind of Marcus’s logging shifts and Liam’s dead-end barista gig.
Marcus clapped a heavy hand on Liam’s back, the touch lingering a beat too long. Heat seeped through the thin flannel. “Yeah. Been too damn long since we did this.” His voice rumbled low, like distant thunder rolling over the lake’s glassy surface.
Inside, the air smelled of dust and old cedar. They unpacked in silence, boots thudding on creaky floorboards. Liam’s eyes flicked to his father’s thick forearms, veins bulging as he hauled in firewood. Something twisted low in his gut—a sinful pull he’d buried since puberty, glimpsed in stolen moments like catching Marcus shirtless after a shower, water beading on that hairy chest.
Dinner was simple: grilled trout from the lake, sizzling over the fire pit outside. Flames crackled, sending sparks dancing into the cooling night. Beer bottles clinked, the bitter hops cutting through the fish’s smoky char. Liam watched Marcus’s throat work as he swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing hypnotically.
“You remember the last time we came up here?” Marcus asked, eyes reflecting the firelight. “You were what, fifteen? Caught that monster bass.”
Liam nodded, cheeks warming—not from the fire. “Yeah. You taught me how to gut it right. Hands steady, no flinching.” His gaze dropped to Marcus’s lap, where denim strained slightly. Imagination flared: what lay beneath, thick and heavy.
The conversation drifted to frustrations—Marcus’s ex-wife, Liam’s string of failed dates. Laughter turned raw, confessions spilling like the beer they drained. As stars pricked the sky, Marcus stripped to his boxers for a late swim, his body a map of scars and muscle. Liam’s pulse hammered. Sinful thoughts clawed up: tasting that skin, feeling weight pinning him down.
He joined, shedding clothes in the shadows. The lake water bit cold, shocking his balls, but Marcus’s nearness burned hotter. They swam side by side, splashes echoing, breaths puffing white in the chill.
Chapter 2: Firelit Confessions 🔥
Back by the pit, towels barely drying their skin, the fire roared back to life. Marcus poked the logs, embers swirling. Liam sat close—too close—their thighs brushing. Fabric tented subtly under his towel. Marcus noticed, a slow grin cracking his beard.
“Cold water don’t kill everything, huh?” Marcus teased, voice gravelly.
Liam flushed, but the beer loosened his tongue. “Nah. Got me thinking… about stuff.” He met his father’s eyes, dark and knowing. The air hummed with unspoken heat, pine smoke curling into their lungs.
Marcus leaned in, beard scratching Liam’s shoulder. “What stuff, kid?” His hand rested on Liam’s knee, calluses rough like bark.
“You. Us. Things that ain’t right.” Liam’s voice cracked, confession bubbling. “Sinful shit I’ve jerked to in the dark.”
Marcus’s breath hitched, fingers tightening. “Me too, son. Fantasized about your mouth… your tight body.” He tugged the towel free, revealing his thickening length—veined, uncut, head glistening in firelight.
Liam’s mouth watered, taste of lake water lingering. He dropped to knees on the gritty dirt, gravel biting skin. Wrapping lips around that girth, salt exploding on tongue. Marcus groaned deep, hips bucking gently. “Fuck, Liam… that’s it.”
The suck was slow at first, savoring velvet over steel, musky scent filling nostrils. Liam’s hands gripped hairy thighs, nails digging. Marcus threaded fingers in his curls, guiding deeper. Gagging sounds mingled with cricket chirps, fire popping like applause.
“Goddamn, your throat’s sinful heaven,” Marcus rasped, pre-cum slicking Liam’s chin. They built rhythm—wet slurps, heavy breaths. Liam’s own cock throbbed untouched, leaking on dirt.
Marcus pulled back suddenly, eyes wild. “Not yet. Your turn.” He yanked Liam up, shoving him onto the log bench. Mouth engulfed Liam’s slimmer shaft, tongue swirling the ridge. Pleasure stabbed electric, Liam’s moans echoing off trees.
They traded like that, firelit shadows dancing, until exhaustion trembled their limbs. No release yet—anticipation coiled tighter.
Chapter 3: Trail of Temptation
Morning mist clung to the lake like a lover’s breath. Coffee brewed black and strong, steam rising bitter. Marcus stretched naked by the window, morning wood jutting proud. Liam averted eyes, but not before heat pooled low.
“Hike today,” Marcus declared, slapping Liam’s ass playfully—sting lingering. “Work up an appetite.” They geared up, packs light, boots laced tight. The trail wound steep through ferns and moss-slick rocks, birdsong piercing the fog.
Sweat beaded soon, shirts plastered. Liam led, glutes flexing in shorts. Marcus watched, bulge growing. “You’re killing me, son. That ass…”
At a clearing overlook, panoramic views of jagged peaks, they stripped for water break. Naked under sun, skin prickling. Liam dropped, mouth hungry on Marcus’s hardness again. Sixty-nining on pine needles, rough texture scraping backs, scents of earth and arousal thick.
Marcus’s tongue probed Liam’s hole, wet and insistent, while Liam deep-throated, balls slapping chin. “Taste so fucking good,” Marcus growled into flesh. Vibrations hummed through Liam, sinful symphony building.
They edged for an hour, switching positions—Liam astride Marcus’s face, grinding; Marcus on elbows, devouring. Climax hovered, denied by whispered commands. “Hold it. Got plans.”
Descending, thighs quivered, asses clenching with need. Cabin loomed like promise.
Chapter 4: The Offering
Afternoon sun slanted gold through windows. They crash-landed on the rickety bed—mattress sagging under weight. Dust motes swirled like fireflies. Marcus sprawled, legs spread wide, hairy crack exposed.
“Your surprise,” he murmured, fishing lube from his pack. Slick bottle gleamed. “Want you inside me, Liam. Been craving it.”
Liam froze, heart slamming. Sinful reality crashed: his father, begging. He lubed fingers, circling that puckered ring—hot, twitching. One digit sank in, velvet grip milking. Marcus bucked, moaning guttural, scent of sweat and lube heady.
“More. Fuck me deep.” Marcus’s voice broke, vulnerability cracking the facade.
Liam coated his length—average but rigid, curving up. Head nudged, breaching slow. Inch by inch, heat enveloped, balls-deep thrust drawing roars. “Christ, Dad… so tight.”
Pounding built—wet slaps echoing, bedframe banging walls. Marcus clawed sheets, ass cheeks rippling under palms. “Harder! Spank it red!” Liam obliged, handprints blooming pink, sting sharpening thrusts.
“Feels sinful perfect,” Marcus gasped, prostate hammered. Liam’s balls tightened, vision blurring. “Gonna fill you.”
“Do it!” Cum erupted, flooding hot. Marcus clenched, milking every drop, overflow trickling down crack. Collapse followed—sweaty tangle, breaths syncing. Tenderness bloomed: Marcus’s hand stroking Liam’s back, soft kisses on neck.
“Never knew it could be this…” Liam whispered. Marcus nodded, eyes soft. Bond deepened, raw and real.
Chapter 5: Reversal of Power
Evening chill drove them closer. Fire roared again, but hunger shifted. Marcus’s turn now, eyes predatory. “My boy. Bend over.”
Liam complied, on all fours on the bearskin rug—coarse hairs prickling knees. Lube chilled skin, then Marcus’s fingers stretched him wide. Burn twisted to bliss, prostate sparking.
“Ready for Daddy’s cock?” Marcus teased, head pressing. Breach was massive—stretch agonizing, exquisite. Liam howled, tears pricking as girth filled him full.
Rhythm savage: hips slamming, balls smacking ass. “Take it all, you sinful little slut,” Marcus growled, hand fisting curls, arching back. Pain-pleasure blurred, Liam’s prostate milked relentlessly.
Dialogue filth-laced: “Your hole’s gripping like a vice.” “Fuck me raw, Dad… own it.” Sweat dripped salty on tongue, tastes mingling.
Climax shattered—Marcus pumping seed deep, groaning primal. Liam stroked himself, spurting ropes on rug. Aftershocks quaked, bodies slick.
Cuddling ensued, vulnerability raw. “Love this… love you,” Liam admitted. Marcus held tight, “Forever, son.”
Chapter 6: Echoes in the Dawn 💋
Dawn broke misty, lake lapping shore like whispers. They packed slow, bodies marked—bruises blooming purple, asses tender. Last fuck by water: Marcus bending Liam over rocks, waves tickling toes, thrusts syncing splashes.
“One more sinful memory,” Marcus panted, filling him again. Cum leaked warm down thighs as they dressed.
Drive home wound through valleys, silence comfortable. Liam’s hand on Marcus’s thigh, promise unspoken. City lights loomed, but the wild claimed them forever. Back home, wife’s curious glance met shrugs. Deeper hungers stirred—what next weekend held.
Yet in quiet moments, flavors lingered: salt, smoke, seed. Scents of pine haunting dreams. Touches ghosted skin. Their sinful secret burned eternal. 🔥
