"All My Children" and "One Life to Live" are owned by ABC. My story is not for profit, or for any reason other than a fantasy. The actors who play these characters have no bearing on the story. Don't take the story, or a soap, as a guide to real life.
Please do not read the story if you are not 18 or older, or if you have a problem with homosexual relations.
"Fuck, I'm horny."
Brody rubbed his big fat cock through his sweatpants. He'd sort of thought the time in the mental institution would involve drugs that would cut off his sexual urges, but instead, some crazy bitch with long blonde hair and a killer body was driving him wild. Even worse, she had multiple personalities, one being the biggest prick tease in history.
He was tempted to just whip his 9 inches out then and there, but there must have been some rule or regulation against it. He didn't want to go back into the restraints.
While he was pondering his options, he saw he had a visitor.
"Hey, Brode...doc says you can go for a walk, as long as you don't piss on any of the trees!"
Brody laughed and grabbed Wes's hand for a complicated handshake. Wes and Brody had been best friends in the Marines. Brody was all-American clean cut, while Wes was darker, more of a mutt, as he called himself. They were both on the short side, which had caused all amounts of teasing from others in the corps until the men realized what Brody and Wes lacked in height, they made up for in other areas.
Brody grabbed his sweater, but still noticed Wes ogling his chest and arms in his tight white t-shirt. He flexed for Wes, then patted Wes's blue jeaned butt as they went to the garden area.
Wes walked ahead of Brody a few steps, enough for Brody to appreciate Wes's chunky yet still muscular body.
"Thanks for taking your head from between some chick's legs to come see me, Wes."
Wes spun around, smirking as he groped his package.
"I spent a hell of a lot of time between your legs, in case you forgot."
Brody could never forget. Just to make sure, Wes yanked his arm, hiding underneath a large elm tree as he lifted Brody's sweater and shirt, squeezing his hairy pecs, shoving his tongue down Brody's throat.
Brody tried to protest, since they might be seen, but as Wes planted his large hands on Brody's oh so squeezable butt and ground their crotches together, he couldn't remember enough words beyond grunts.
Brody plunged his teeth into Wes's bronzed neck as Wes began serious nipple play, squeezing and twisting Brody's teats. He slammed his fists into Brody's meaty pecs, relishing the groans from his brother in arms.
Brody made short work of Wes's T-shirt, his tongue sliding down Wes's beefy chest as his fingers traced the intricate tattoos which lined his friend's arms.
He popped Wes's jeans open with his fingers, sliding the zipper down between his teeth.
"I forgot you're a grower," Brody smirked before Wes smacked his face hard.
"Get to work," Wes barked.
Brody dutifully began licking Wes's mouthful, circling the mushroom head with his talented tongue. Wes was known as Wide Wes for a reason. He loved to make the ladies and the men scream. Brody was the one who'd never let himself scream.
As Wes began pinching his own nips and running his fingers through Brody's short hair, he thought he saw someone watching them through the trees. Instead of being frightened, he was aroused.
"Hey bitch, drop your sweats and spread those cheeks."
Brody, still kneeling and gagging on the fat 8 inches, knew not to argue. While staying on his knees, he managed to get the sweatpants to his ankles. His monster meat bobbed in front of him as he opened his mounds for display, his hairy hole puckering in the chill of a Llanview winter.
"BRODY!!! BRODY!!!"
One of the "helpers" was calling for Brody. The thrill of near-discovery, not to mention the hunk watching through the foilage, made Wes bite into his upper lip and shove Brody far onto his erupting cock. He pulled a weak-kneed Brody up for a deep kiss, digesting his own seed as they swapped spit.
He wrapped his callused right hand around Brody's saber, ruthlessly pumping the exhausted man to a very complete orgasm.
"I'll see you soon, bitch," Wes taunted, his cum-drench fingers slipping into Brody's hole as he helped Brody put the sweatpants back on.
As they parted, Brody wondered why Wes had such a big smirk on his face. He hadn't realized who Wes had recognized.
Wes, in the meantime, turned his cellphone on. Good thing he had the number on speed dial.
"Yeah. Rex Balsom, right? I saw you. Nice cock. Now we're gonna meet and I'm gonna get to see a whole lot more of you. Get your happy family out of the apartment and get that bubble butt ready for me."
Troubled teenage Cole Thornhart was just about to jerk off when he saw a news report. Something about Pine Valley, and a woman who needed a heart transplant.
He did a double take as he saw the woman's brooding, stubbled husband. His name was Zach Slater. But that wasn't the name Cole had for him.
"Dad."
Cole dropped the remote. This had to be Patrick Thornhart. But Cole's father was dead...right?
Cole started packing a bag. He had to find out. Zach, or Dad, whoever, he had to meet him. Now.
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