My Dad the InstaThot

by Natty Soltesz, concept by Mor

The mural was pure Instagram-bait: two big angel wings painted at ground level. I tried to distract Dad: “Hey, have you been to that ramen place?” I said, pointing across the street. It didn’t work.

“Oh wow, look at that mural!” Dad said. “We gotta get a pic of me in front of it…” I sighed. This was Dad’s thing now, and since I’d moved back in with him it had become my thing by association. He’d gained over four thousand followers since he’d begun his #fitnessjourney, and now I was being conscripted to help document it. I really couldn’t complain, unemployed and unmotivated as I was.

Dad stood in front of the mural, which had the social media accounts for a dental practice painted on the bottom. What did a dental practice have to do with angel wings? I wasn’t sure, but here we were in 2020. Dad adjusted his pose, I snapped away. “Hold on, let me take off my sweatshirt…” Dad said, stripping down to a too-tight t-shirt that showed off the massive muscle he’d gained in the last two years. His thick legs were wrapped in a pair of workout tights that shamelessly showed off the goods.

“Where’d you get those tights?” I said once we’d got the shot and started walking again.

“Oh, one of my followers,” he said.

“They buy things for you?” I said. He looked away from me.

“I have a wish list,” he said.

Dad had a gym in the basement, and he disappeared down there as soon as we got home. He spent the majority of his days there, often with the door closed. I suspected his workouts were half lifting and half copious selfies, and it was working: he was gaining followers by the hundreds each month, and had even done sponsored posts for some skin vitamin company.

I laid on the couch, scrolling through feeds. Dad’s wing picture popped up, and though it had been an overcast day he’d filtered it to look balmy and dreamy. The caption said “You’ve got to walk before you can fly. Hustle in silence and let your success make the noise.” What did that even mean? It already had two hundred likes and more than a few thirsty comments. Did Dad know that most of his followers were gay guys? He must have, but we never talked about it. I couldn’t blame them: Dad was all thick, cut slabs of muscle now, and he’d always been a handsome dude: dark haired, bearded, strong jaw.

I scrolled to the bottom of his feed. His early shots had been casual, but as time progressed his clothes got tighter and his shirt came off more frequently. Also he’d started to take more pictures of his back and his butt. He’d recently posted one of those grids of his most-liked photos and all but one of them was a shot of his ass. I clicked on a photo of him shirtless and posing sideways in front of the mirror, his torso gleaming with sweat, the cleavage of his massively muscled ass sticking out from the low waistband on his UnderArmour compression shorts: “Dialed in and ready to take this physique to the next level.” The comments were relentless: woofs, squirts, peaches and eggplants.


A few days later I found myself in our basement, shooting video of Dad doing squats. He’d asked me numerous times to film him but I’d always put him off until then.

“How many sets have you got?” I said as Dad reviewed some of the footage I’d shot. We’d been at it for a good half hour.

“It’s just for the story,” he said, never looking up from his phone. “We gotta get ‘the one’…” I suppressed a sigh. “Hmm, let’s put you over here so we can get the light from the window…” Dad directed. I walked to the other side of the room. “And let’s do these ones in just the shorts,” he added, stripping off his shirt. The shorts were skimpy gray jersey shorts he’d had forever; they were practically threadbare. “Get a little closer too.” he said. “Kneel down.”

I stared at Dad’s flexing ass as he did his seventh set of squats, his shorts riding up his thighs and hugging his round butt each time he lowered himself below parallel. He had a line of sweat running down his crack that had only gotten wetter and darker as filmed. It was noticing that sweat that started to change things for me – I didn’t know why, I just knew that suddenly I was feeling anxious.

“Let’s see how that one turned out,” Dad said once he’d re-racked the barbell. He took his phone and stood close to me while he reviewed the footage. I could smell the clean, musky sweatiness of him and feel the heat coming off of his body. “Mm, that’s pretty good,” he said. I felt his thigh brush against mine then sort of rest there. My heart started beating wildly.

“Okay, one more,” Dad said. “This time you’re gonna lie down underneath me so I’m coming down from above.”

“Uh…okay,” I said. I followed his instructions and laid on the floor. Dad straddled my head and lifted the barbell. “Alright, you filming?” he said.

“Uh huh,” I said.

“Hold the phone above your head so you can get my back,” he said. He started his squats. I tried to look at the phone screen as his big, sweaty ass approached and went right in my face. The smell was undeniable, now. I thought of how the sweat soaking his shorts must have drizzled over his asshole before collecting in the fabric. What I was smelling was his asshole, the manly essence of him. Dad grunted as he lifted himself. He lowered himself again, going even lower this time so that his ass barely grazed my nose. When he raised himself up again he shifted forward a bit, and when he came down again his ass was right on my face. I felt the moistness of his crack sweat on my nose and without thinking about it, I inhaled deeply. My cock shot straight up.

I struggled to keep the phone framed on his body as he lowered himself again and again on my face, going lower each time until, on his last squat, I could feel his muscled ass cheeks hugging my face. Just before I lifted back up I felt his asshole, covered by the fabric, tighten against my lips as he tensed and came back up to standing.

“Phew!” he said as he racked the barbell. “Good set!” I fumbled a little as I stood. My face was moist from his ass sweat and my hard on was obvious, and though Dad glanced at it he didn’t say anything. He took the phone from me and reviewed the video, smiling all the while. “This is great. Thanks so much, son,” he said.

“Sure,” I said, and walked out in a daze.

Smelling Dad’s ass sweat and feeling his muscle butt pressed against my face changed me: every time I thought about it I popped a boner. I started scrolling through his feed incessantly and I noticed that he had a few comments from guys asking about private videos – he’d even liked one of them.

So I got to wondering what Dad was up to that he wasn’t telling me about. Now that I thought about it, there had been a lot of packages coming to the house – how much were his followers buying for him? What were they buying for him, and what else was he selling?

I’m not proud of the fact that I snuck into his room that night when he wasn’t home, but I’d been pacing around my room for the better part of three hours, horny and frustrated and sort of unwilling to admit to myself that I was sexually attracted to my hot muscle dad. I told myself I just wanted to know more.

His room smelled like a fancy candle. I looked in his underwear drawer and, bingo: it was full of jockstraps and queer underwear in all colors; surely stuff from his followers. Then I saw his laptop on his desk and I thought, I shouldn’t, but I was already walking toward it. The password was easy enough to figure out, being the same one we used for our internet connection. His desktop was full of selfies and I started flipping through them. Most were just alternate shots of what he’d already posted, or workout vids that didn’t make the cut. But then I saw a folder named “X”.

I opened it, and the first thing I saw was a series of photos of Dad working out in the nude, fully erect. I instantly got hard. Next I found a clip of him doing nude squats which he’d filmed by propping his phone on the floor. I groaned when that big naked muscle butt come down, spreading, showing off his tight pink asshole, shining with sweat. I was jacking my cock underneath my pants before I even realized I was doing it.

I kept poking around that folder, in a trance. There was a video of him doing bench presses naked, his hard on pointing to his face. When he’d re-racked the barbell he started stroking himself, then threw his legs up in the air and spread his cheeks. He flipped over and straddled the bench, grinding his cock against the slick bench and pushing his ass back toward the camera. “You want to eat that?” he said. “Lick that sweaty hole, faggot.”

By now I had my pants around my ankles and was just going for it, utterly shocked by the sight of Dad as a total cam whore. I clicked on the next one and the next one, wanting to see it all before I got off – but there were a ton. There was Dad on all fours on the island in our kitchen, spreading his ass and addressing a follower who must have paid him for it. There he was in our shower, soaping his fuzzy stomach. In that one he even slipped a soapy finger up his ass.

I was so entranced I never heard him in the doorway.

“What are you doing?” he said in his deep voice. I gasped and reflexively covered my cock with my hands. But his voice was still coming from the laptop speakers: “Yeah, faggot, you want that ass? You want to play with that big butt?” My stomach sank to my feet: this was as bad as it could get.

“Sorry, I was just…” I said. Dad walked toward me. He was angry, but his expression was tempered by something implacable, and softer. He looked at the screen, where he was smooshing his big soapy butt against the glass door of our shower. He looked at me, then grabbed my arm, pulling my hand away from my cock.

“You’re jerking off to my videos,” he said.

“I’m sorry,” I said. Dad stared at the hard-on throbbing in my lap. “I just, I got turned on.”

“By looking at me?” Dad said.

“Yeah,” I said, finally.

Dad put a finger on the top of his laptop screen and lowered it until it shut and the sound of his video disappeared. He flipped on his desk light and I covered myself again. “Don’t try to hide it,” Dad said, pushing my hand away again. I could see his cock swelling in his gym shorts. “You were looking at me naked, it’s only fair I get to see you naked, too.”

Dad stood up tall. “You liked looking at my ass?” he said. “Answer me.”

“Yes,” I said. Dad reached down and grabbed my cock. He stared at it as he gave it a few rough strokes. “You’re hard as hell,” he said, and looked in my eyes. “I must have really turned you on, huh?” I didn’t respond. Dad stepped back. “I thought you were getting turned on the other day when we were filming,” he said, turning around. “Look, I’m all sweaty again.” He was wearing the same thin gray shorts from the other day which indeed wet along the line of his ass crack.

He turned back around and started taking off his clothes, lifting his shirt to reveal his sweaty, hairy chest. “Stand up,” he said. “Take your clothes all the way off.” I did like he said. Dad dropped his shorts and his hard cock popped out. He stood there in all his swole, naked glory – muscle tits front and center, trimmed cock bobbing as he took off his socks. “Look at us,” he said, chuckling. “Horny as fuck.”

“Yeah,” I said, smiling. Dad reached forward and stroked my cock: possessively, like it was his alone and didn’t matter that I was attached to it.

“Guys are always saying in the comments that they want to eat my ass,” he said, face close to mine. I could smell the heady, dank odor wafting from his wet armpits. “You want to show me what it feels like?”

I gulped. “Okay,” I said.

“Fuck yeah,” Dad said. “Get down on your knees,” he said. As I lowered myself he turned around. There was his big muscle butt, glazed in sweat and radiating heat and scent. I stuck my nose just into his crack and inhaled. “Smell good?” Dad said.

“Yeah,” I said. My cock was throbbing from smelling his musky ass sweat.

“Get in there,” Dad said, grabbing the back of my head and pulling it into his sweaty crack. My face smooshed in between his slick, firm cheeks. In breathed deep, turned on beyond all measure. I flicked my tongue out and hit Dad’s hole. “Oh fuck!” he said, deep voice reverberating in the room. He jerked away reflexively. “Fuck that’s intense,” he said, smiling down at me.

He got up on his bed on all fours, perching his ass up. “Get up here,” he said.

“Okay,” I said, getting behind him on the bed and gazing at his pink hole close up. The smell was overpowering. I lapped at his crack, slick with salty sweat. Dad reached back and pulled my head toward his asshole. “Lick me,” he said. I pressed my tongue against his hole. Dad moaned. “That’s it. Lick me deep,” he said. There was the initial shock of tasting the most intimate part of my dad’s body – the dirtiest place you could imagine. But once I got past that I found I liked the taste of it. My cock throbbed as I pressed my tongue into him.

“Oh fuck, that feels good,” he said. “Get in there. Goddamn.” He was moaning and pressing his ass back into my tongue. The deeper I went the more animalistic he got. He started rubbing his ass up and down my face like he was marking me with his musk. I think all those years of flirting with dudes online had made him a little wild with lust, and the fact that I was his son – someone he could feel comfortable experimenting with – made him even more uninhibited.

“Fuckin hell that feels good,” Dad said, letting go of my head and moving onto his back. He tossed his legs up in the air, pink slit gleaming with spit. “Get back in there,” he said, grabbing my neck and pulling me into him. I basically fell into his ass, stuffing my tongue and nose into his hole. Dad’s cock was pulsatingly hard the whole time and when he’d stroke it his asshole would clench up tight. Then he would let it go and his hole would relax to where I could stuff my tongue in deeper. The deeper I went the more turned on he got, at one point forcing my face into his ass so tightly that I couldn’t breath. “Oh fuck oh fuck, get in there, boy,” he said, moaning.

He let go of my head and moved to get up. “I almost came,” he said, eyes gleaming. I wiped my mouth. He went to pee and when he came back in the room his hard-on was bobbing in front of him, ass flexing as he walked. I got on my knees on the floor and he turned around and just presented his ass to me. As I ate him out from behind he pushed back until I was pinned against the wall, and once he got that leverage he started really pressing his ass into my face, smothering me in muscle butt as I jacked off. Dad, back arched, caressed his muscle tits as he shoved his hole onto my tongue. My tongue was getting tired but I kept on, face encased in ass, because I really didn’t have a choice in the matter: I was caught between a wall and a rock-hard butt.

“Feels so fuckin good,” he moaned. I couldn’t breathe at one point so I had to forcibly extricate myself from being pinned between the wall and his ass, at which point I laid back on the floor and caught my breath. Dad didn’t miss a beat, though – he just moved back and squatted over me till he was sitting on my face. My tongue was so tired that I just kept it erect while he fucked himself on it, tweaking his tits and jacking his cock while he bounced away.

Dad got his hand slick with spit and spread it on my cock. “Goddamn you’re hard,” he said, shifting forward until his ass was positioned over my cock. He got on his knees and pressed the tip of my cock against his yielding hole, teasing himself with it while he jerked off and tweaked his tits. “Man. Wow. That feels pretty good,” he said. I felt the head of my dick slide into him. “Oh, shit,” he said. “Oh wow. Holy fuck.”

Is this really happening? I thought. I was beyond aroused. Dad had his back to me and I watched as more and more of his pink hole slid down my pole. I’d never anticipated this. “Fuuuck that feels good, oh my god…” I could feel his asshole clench around me, then release. Then with one smooth motion he sat down fully on my cock, moaning loudly the whole time. “Oh fuuuck, kid,” he said. His tapered back spread out to that muscle butt which was stuffed fully with my raw dick. “Holy fuck it’s in me. Oh my god,” he said, sounding as surprised by the situation as I was.

He braced himself on my thighs and lifted himself up. I watched my fat dick reappear from his ass before he sat back down on it. “Fuck that feels so fucking gooood,” he said, and began to ride me. He seemed to hardly register that I was there, almost like I was a dildo one of his followers had bought for him, as he bounced on my dick, jerking off all the while.

After a while he stood up. “Get over here,” he said and got on the bed on all fours. I scrambled up and approached his spread ass. “Get that dick back in there,” he said, reaching back for it and all but putting it inside of himself.

He was insatiable and we fucked for over an hour in just about every position. Missionary was the most interesting because he was facing me but not really looking at me, like he was lost in his own world. I fucked him on his side, then standing up, and then he wanted to ride me again which he did in the reverse-cowgirl position. He ran his hands all over his beautiful body as he took my cock, and eventually I realized he was gazing at himself in the mirror on his dresser: the butch muscle dad with thousands of followers, doing exactly what they all fantasized about him doing.

“You like that? You like me taking that dick?” he was saying, but he was really saying it to himself. “Oh fuck I’m gonna cum,” he said. He was on his feet, squatting over me, and it was a trip to watch my fat dick disappear into him again and again. “Oh fuck, oh fuck,” he said. He pinched his tit and with a loud groan began to shoot his load. I watched it eject from him like a sprinkler, showering all over my legs and his bed.

And then he was done. He got off me and said “I’m gonna take a shower.” I lay there in his bed, panting, still hard and throbbing. I felt used, but I didn’t mind: I had a sense I’d get to eat and fuck that muscle ass again.

Eventually I got up from the bed. The shower was running in Dad’s bathroom. I caught sight of myself in his mirror – still hard. Maybe it was the afterglow of some great sex, but I noticed how hot I looked, and that I sort of resembled my dad – smaller of course, but toned in the same way and pretty handsome. Why hadn’t I noticed it before? I was damned sexy, and I thought: I should take a selfie.