Silver Routine
Copyright© 2026 by Ring of Seed
Chapter 4
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 4 - 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
The hotel stay ended, but the texts didn’t. Graham’s messages started as soon as he got home from that first midday fuck, and they only got more frequent, more raw, more honest. Each one was like another warm drip of my seed leaking out of him, reminding him — and me — how deeply the acceptance had taken root. His quiet bachelor life was now a constant, throbbing echo of what I’d planted inside him, turning every ordinary moment into a private ritual of surrender.
That evening, after Ian and I had dinner in the hotel restaurant, my phone buzzed under the table.
Graham: Home now. Sat down and felt it shift. Warm. Sticky. Can’t focus on anything else.
Graham: It’s like you’re still in me. Filling me slow even when you’re not here.
I glanced at Ian across the table, laughing about his conference, then typed back.
Me: That’s because I am. Every clench, every leak — that’s the mark I left. Don’t clean it up. Let it settle deeper.
Graham: I won’t. Promise. Just lay on the bed touching myself, feeling the mess between my cheeks. Imagining your cock pushing it back in.
Graham: God, I’m hard again. Wanking now. Thinking of you breeding me while Ian was away.
I smiled at the screen, cock twitching under the table.
Me: Good. Come thinking of how full you’ll be next time. Send proof if you want.
A few minutes later: a photo. Graham’s hairy belly streaked with fresh cum, his hole visible in the mirror shot, still puffy and glistening with our mixed loads.
Graham: For you. Only you.
The next morning, before Ian even woke up, another buzz.
Graham: Woke up to the sheets sticking to me. Your seed dried on my skin. Smelled it all night in my dreams. Had to finger myself just to feel something close to you.
Graham: When can I come back? I need more.
Me: Midday. Same room. Be ready.
He arrived early that day, knocking softly at 11:30. We fucked twice. Once bent over the bathroom sink, watching ourselves in the mirror as I flooded him again; once on the bed, slow and deep, until he was babbling about how my cum was rewriting his guts, turning his hole into something that only craved my loads. When he left, leaking fresh down his thighs, the texts started before he even made it home.
Graham: Walking to the bus stop. Every step squelches. People around me and they have no idea I’m full of you. I clench hard to hold it in and think of Ian’s face, how he’d never guess his cousin is dripping your seed down his leg right now.
Graham: It’s dripping into my pants.
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