Silver Routine
Copyright© 2026 by Ring of Seed
Chapter 1
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Graham was Ian’s cousin. Salt-and-pepper, charming, properly hairy. The kind of older man who should have stayed safely in family photos. Instead he ended up on his knees in the hallway, mouth open, throat working, every morning. A quiet, permanent, irreversible routine. The older man who fell under charm never got up again. He simply grew older inside the shape made for him. Family to the end.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Ma Consensual Gay Fiction Anal Sex Oral Sex
My partner has this cousin on his father’s side named Graham. I’d heard the name mentioned countless times and finally met him several years ago. That day the three of us had lunch together in the city centre. Afterwards Graham took us wandering round Edinburgh. While we walked, I kept stealing glances at him. Graham has that lovely salt-and-pepper hair and the most charming smile, so similar to my partner’s it’s almost uncanny. As we strolled along, I also noticed he’s probably properly hairy; thick chest hair kept peeking out from the collar of his shirt. That single glimpse made my cock throb instantly.
That night we were all staying at a hotel in the New Town. I casually opened the bear app and started chatting with one faceless profile. After a bit of back-and-forth ... jackpot. The bear without a face was Graham.
He seemed mortified when he realised, but I reassured him straight away:
“Whatever happens on the app stays on the app. I won’t tell a soul. You won’t either. Who’s going to know?”
He paused, then replied: “I hope you’re right. This is ... not what I expected.”
I pushed immediately: was he free to meet tonight?
A long silence. Then his address came through — the Knightsbridge area, that quiet, expensive pocket west of the city.
When I arrived, Graham opened the door, gave me a tense little smile, and said “Come in.” He shut the door behind us and added quietly:
“I didn’t think you’d be on there. Makes me feel a bit stupid now.”
I told him it was exactly how I met my partner, then lied smoothly:
“Ian’s actually quite open about these things.”
Graham blinked. “Really? I had no idea he was like that.”
Seeing his surprise, I pressed harder: I told him I’d been obsessed with him since that lunch — his smile, his easy way of talking, the way he carried himself — and confessed I’d spent the whole afternoon staring at him, imagining what was under his clothes.
He looked away, cheeks pink, and muttered:
“That’s nice of you to say. I’m not exactly in great shape these days though. Put on a few pounds.”
I shut him up: this body is exactly my type, and my hands proved it — pinching his nipples through the thick jumper until he let out a sharp “Christ...”
Clothes came off fast. Graham is gloriously hairy everywhere, just as I’d fantasised. He tried to cover his stomach a little, saying “Sorry about the hair. Never really bothered trimming it.”
I told him the fur made him perfect. My hands roamed the dense pelt: chest, belly, down to the thick bush at his groin. His cockhead was already slick. The second I started stroking, Graham leaked like a tap, soaking my fingers.
I kissed him again, pressed our bodies together.
I lined our cocks up, stroked them together. Slowly, then faster.
Graham’s head tipped back; he groaned, then said quietly “God, listen to me. That’s embarrassing.”
I dropped to his chest, sucked one hard nipple, then the other, until his legs gave way and he sank to the carpet with a soft “This is ... humiliating, isn’t it?”
I licked my way down the treasure trail, following the fur, then took his thick cock to the root.
It’s massive; my jaw ached, but I forced it deeper. I looked up at him while he throbbed in my throat. His face twisted: “Jesus ... it’s been years.”
I bobbed faster. He thrust up to meet me. My fingers teased his tight balls, then slid back to his crack. The instant I brushed his hole he clenched and whispered “Easy ... that’s sensitive.” A minute later he was gasping, balls drawing up, cock flaring and then he flooded my mouth with thick, bitter loads.
I swallowed it all.
He lay trembling for ages.
When he finally softened I crawled up, kissed him deeply. He tasted himself and didn’t pull away.
I asked how it felt.
Still breathless, he said: “That was ... intense. Sorry for coming in your mouth. Didn’t mean to.”
I told him I loved it; his taste was already branded into me.
We cuddled for a bit, sweaty and sticky. Then I started working a finger into his crack.
He jolted: his hole was ridiculously tight.
I spat on my fingers, mixed it with the leftover cum, pushed back in deeper.
Soon he was panting: “I can’t ... fuck, just do it. Fuck me.”
I spread his thick thighs wide.
I pushed in agonisingly slowly.
Graham hissed through his teeth: “God ... that’s a lot.”
Once buried, I kissed him again. His arse gripped me like it was trying to keep me forever.
I told him so.
He flushed dark red: “It’s been ages. I’m out of practice.”
That just made me feral. I started thrusting: long; deep; grinding. He moaned brokenly, then murmured against my mouth: “You’re Ian’s partner ... I am his cousin. This is so wrong.”
I whispered back: “Exactly. Every time you see him from now on, you’ll remember his partner’s cock was buried in your guts, breeding you like the family slut you are.”
Graham shuddered hard. His hole clenched tighter. I felt him getting hard again inside the mess.
I started rocking slowly, stirring my cum deeper.
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