“Daddy’s gonna fuck your ass one last time before work,” he declared, picking me up and pushing me toward the couch.

With my mouth taped up and my wrists tied behind my back, Hank bent me over the arm of our couch and unzipped his jeans. Roughly, he shoved his massive cock into me, and I screamed into the tape gag. Luckily, my hole was still lubricated with his morning load and stretched out already. Spreading my legs, he slammed me hard and deep.

Hank bent over me. “Daddy loves his sweet boy!” he grunted.

And within a few minutes, he pumped another hot and juicy load into my ass...

“Happy nineteenth birthday, Austin!” Tonya, Hank’s secretary, shouted gleefully.

Tonya was a young black woman with a pretty face, a thin body, and wore her hair in braids. With her baby boy on her hip, she was followed by her gruff-looking husband. Dontez was actually nice, but he was quiet like Hank. He was a slightly overweight guy with a plump face and kind eyes.

“Yeah, Happy Birthday,” he greeted.

“Thank you!” I happily replied, opening the door and inviting them inside. “Come on in! Hank is manning the grill and we got everything set up in the backyard.”

Tonya’s husband barreled past us toward the smell of cooking meat that was flowing freely through the house.

“Don’t mind him!” she stated. “He’s longing for a cold beer and a burger.”

“Ya came to the right place because we got plenty of everything.” We walked inside the house and my attention turned to the precious baby with the large brown eyes in her arms. “So this is little Tyler Perry Washington.”

“The one and only!” Tonya replied proudly. “Named after my favorite actor, Tyler Perry! My man wasn’t too thrilled about naming his first son after a drag queen, but I put my foot down.”

“At least ya didn’t name him RuPaul.”

She laughed in reply.

“Anyway, he is precious,” I beamed.

“He’s a holy terror!” Tonya countered. “But he’s the light of my life.”

“Well, come on outside and join the party. We got plenty of eats, and the lamps that Hank set up are keeping the mosquitos away.”

“Your man is one handy guy.”

“Hank definitely knows his stuff. I don’t know what I’d do without him…”

In the warm air of the early evening, I couldn’t help but smile.

This was the first, actual birthday party that anyone had ever thrown for me, and it was all thanks to Hank. Strolling to the picnic table, I looked over the spread of food that Ms. Woaweesa had arranged under the lamplight. There was a large cooler full of beers on ice. Hank already had some hot dogs and hamburgers grilled. They were cooling on plates next to the buns and condiments. There were also several bags of chips, a sandwich tray with cold cuts and cheese, some of those little cocktail weenies floating in a bowl of barbecue sauce, and Ms. Woaweesa’s potato salad.