My Holiday Dilf

By Mark Stone

He's twice my age.
He's married.
He's my best friend's father.
But he's sexy as sin, and once his hands are on me, there's no denying what we both want, even if it's the riskiest thing I've ever done...

My Holiday DILF is a complete short story at 8000 words.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mark Stone
• Release date: Dec 2, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005952495

Mark Stone

Mark Stone writes M/M erotica about older men and forbidden attraction.

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My Holiday DILF

Copyright 2022 Mark Stone

Cover image credit: Deposit Photos

Published by Mark Stone at Smashwords

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. All characters in this work are aged 18 or over. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Table of Contents

Table of Contents

My Holiday DILF

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My Holiday DILF

The trouble starts on the first day of Christmas vacation.

After sixteen hours on the road, I’ve reached the Biers family home, courtesy of my best friend Callum’s invitation. We used to be childhood friends, before drifting apart when my family moved me three states away, at the tender age of twelve. Now, eight years later, we’ve reconnected at college, and how could I refuse the invitation to revisit the family?

Like I said. Trouble.

Stepping out of the car, I’m greeted first by Callum’s mom, sweeping us both into big hugs. She’s exactly like I remember: frosty blonde hair and big blue eyes topped with outrageous lashes, and flowery perfume. Callum fusses his way out of her arms, but his smile is wide and earnest. I lean into the backseat and pull out a plain white box.

And then, just as I’m casting my eyes over their impressively big property, looking for another familiar face…

Who’s this?

I look ahead, and nearly drop the box.

Mr. Biers strides up to us, dark eyes fixated on me. In my memory, he’s always been a homey kind of guy, lowkey dorky, and reliable when it came to awful dad jokes.

In front of me now, though, he’s different.

He’s hot.

Has he always been this tall? And have his shirts always looked so tight? He towers over me, all broad shoulders and big hands, lightly tanned skin, and ashy blond hair. His grin is as warm and familiar as ever, but for some reason, the sight of him makes my heart pound, mouth running dry.

Avery Samuels? he asks. I nod, and he laughs uproariously. You’re kidding! His gaze runs up and down the length of my body. When he meets my eyes again, I’m sure that I’m flushed bright red. You’ve grown well, he compliments me. I hardly recognised you!

I laugh, shifting awkwardly. "I