“Alright, last one for the day,” Chris said, swinging up into the driver’s seat of the Wrangler. “This one, he’s my best client. Very important. He won’t give you any trouble at all, and if you do a good job, he’ll take real good care of you.”
Chris was getting ready to head off to college in the fall, and I was kind of honored that he’d asked me to keep his mowing business going while he was away. He was making good money, and he sure put a lot of time and care into it. He’d started out a few years ago with our old push mower and a couple of neighbors, and now he had a client list, two Toro mowers, and a little trailer from Harbor Freight to tow all his yardcare shit around behind his Jeep. He was even teaching me how to use QuickBooks to keep track of everything. It was no surprise he was going to study Finance at State. He’d really started to show the man he was becoming, this past year - a lot like Dad, responsible and solid. Showing me the way to become one too.
Ask me a couple years ago, and I might’ve had different ideas about it, but now, I was big on the idea of becoming a man like him. I guess he wasn’t the only one maturing, growing up. There was a little over a year between us, and I was starting to hit that later growth spurt he had at 16 - getting bigger and stronger like him, my muscles more defined, the hair on my legs and arms thicker and fuller. Chris had always been a good-looking dude, and this past year or so - alright, I’ll be honest, longer than that - I’d really started to notice it, and started comparing myself to him more seriously. Already he was about as tall as Dad, and his face was getting kind of sharper and more defined, which made him look like Dad even more. His voice was deeper too, and sometimes it was hard to tell the two of them apart on the phone. He was just more mature all around, seemed like - we didn’t fight and argue much anymore, and it kind of felt like we were more like bros now than just brothers, if that makes sense.
Anyway, lately, I’d kept catching him giving me these looks - not weird, exactly, kind of like he was sizing me up, thinking about something. I’d been pretty surprised when suggested we both take our shirts off at the second house on his route.
“Trust me, the housewives dig this shit,” he’d said with a confident grin that was sexy as hell. The way his pecs and abs shifted as he tugged his old football practice shirt up and off, showing his smooth, tanned skin, shit - I was digging it too. Made me feel a little skinny and inadequate, but he just gave me this up-down look and an approving nod when I shed my shirt too.
We were both wearing practice shorts from school, and I guess we both had on tighty-whiteys underneath, and I had to laugh a little at how it was almost like a uniform or something. Laugh, but also try not to stare, because the longer we worked, the more Chris’ shorts slipped down his hips, showing more of his round, firm ass shifting inside of his sweaty briefs as he pushed the mower along, peeking over the top of his shorts.
I knew what I was gonna be jacking off to tonight, that was for damn sure.
So I tried not to pop wood thinking about that - about jacking off in the shower, or in bed, or both, picturing my hot big bro’s muscled ass bulging and shifting like it was. The little patch of golden hairs right there in the small of his back, at the base of his spine. The way the mostly sooth skin of his abs and pecs gleamed with fresh sweat in the warm spring afternoon. And I tried not to wonder if the housewives were checking me out the way he said they did to him. If my muscles looked as impressive as his did. If he was looking at me and my body the same way I was doing to him.
“Yo, earth to Gav,” I heard him say, snapping his fingers, and I guess I’d kinda zoned out there for a minute. “You listening?”
“Yeah, he’s your best client,” I said. “You said it’s an easy job, yeah? How hard could it be to do it right?”
“Not hard,” he said, with this funny little half-smile on his face. “Just… different. It’s more in the cleanup. But it’s very worth it. You’ll see.”
He didn’t say anything more than that as we drove over to Mr. Blake’s house, the warm air drying the sweat on our bare chests, the muscles in Chris’ legs shifting and flexing as he worked the clutch and the gas. I wondered just how well this Mr. Blake tipped, and what exactly it was about the cleanup that made him so generous. Thought about me and Chris stripping our shirts off to mow. Started to get a kind of an idea deep in my brain, one I couldn’t quite get a hold of. A weird kind of tenseness deep in my gut to go with it.
Mr. Blake’s house was nice, a restored little bungalow with a well-tended garden, a BMW coupe parked in front of the garage. Chris was right, it was an easy yard, mostly those garden beds, a pool and a patio. Took us all of 20 minutes of fast work to get it mowed and edged, and a few more to sweep and get rid of the grass cuttings. Hardly any cleanup at all, really. Nothing worth a generous tip, for sure, and I felt that tightness in my stomach swell a little more as I started to wonder more about that.
It was quick work, but a warm, muggy kind of afternoon, and we were both coated in a fresh layer of sweat as we loaded the equipment back onto the trailer. Chris dusted his hands off and looked at me, as I took my discarded T-shirt off the back seat of the Jeep to wipe the sweat off me.
“Hey, leave it,” he said, answering my confused frown with a grin. “You trust me, right Gav?”
I nodded, still not quite getting it.
“Well, trust me on this. It’s better. You’ll see.”
He gave my bare shoulder a friendly squeeze that set my skin tingling a little, then knocked on Mr. Blake’s patio door. I felt my stomach shift with that weird kind of nervous feeling again, but I did trust my brother, and I let him take the lead as the door swung open.
Mr. Blake was a friendly dude, older, maybe a bit older than Dad. Kind of handsome, I guess, and in good, solid shape for an older dude - like a coach, or an ex-soldier, like Dad was. He had big hands and a strong grip when he shook mine as Chris introduced us. Thick, hairy forearms and calves. No wedding ring. He offered us a couple of Cokes, and as we talked in his neat kitchen, it was weird, but in a good way - like, I’d heard that expression about making you feel like you’re the only person in the world? Mr. Blake did that.
He didn’t have the A/C on, just the ceiling fan turning lazily, just enough breeze from it to chill my sweaty skin a little. I felt my nips get a little tingly, like they do when I’m turned on, and I could feel myself blushing. He just smiled at me, then looked to Chris, one eyebrow raised, like a silent question.
“So, Gavin’s taking over for you?” he said, his voice all deep and manly.
“Yessir,” Chris said, looking at me with that handsome grin of his as we leaned against the kitchen island. He seemed perfectly at home here, and I guess he’d been doing Mr. Blake’s yard for a good couple years now, so that fit. Then he stretched his arm out and slipped it around my shoulders, tugging me a little closer into his side. He hadn’t done that in like forever, but when I caught whiff of his freshly sweaty scent, lightly musky and smelling all manly like Dad did, my surprise got all muffled with a kind of hungry feeling deep in my stomach.
“Gav’s going to do a good job for you, Mr. B,” he said, smiling at the man. “You can trust him. Right, little bro?”
Mr. Blake kind of grunted at that - “little bro” - and I went from looking at Chris to looking at him, nodding kind of dumbly at them both. The man smiled at me, and I felt that weird tingle inside again.
“I want you to know, you can trust me too, Gavin,” he said, and I got that feeling like it was just him and me alone on the whole planet again. Like a spell, kind of, that only partly broke when he turned to look at my big brother, that silent question on his face. They both nodded at each other, and I had this feeling of being left out of something very important, as Mr. Blake walked into the living room, Chris tightening his arm around my shoulders to tug me along with him as he followed.
“This can be very cool, Gav,” he murmured to me. “Just follow my lead. I think you’ll enjoy it. Let me know if you don’t, and we’ll call it a day.”
I wanted to ask him so many questions, I had no fuckin’ clue what was going on, just that the vibe in the room was really strange, like I couldn’t get a handle on it. But I couldn’t get any words out, just stared as Mr. Blake settled in on his couch, all big and thick in his shorts and polo shirt, like a handsome suburban dad. He looked totally comfortable as he spread his arms along the back of the sofa and parted his big thighs, and for the first time, I noticed the big bulge in his shorts. Not like he was hard, not yet - but like he was going to be. I was suddenly super curious about what was inside those shorts. Even more as I saw his bulge shift a little, as Chris stepped forward, away from me, and stood in between Mr. Blake’s big, hairy knees.
“Real warm day out there today, Mr. B.,” Chris said, his voice all deep and kind of husky. “Me and my brother have been working hard. Working up a good sweat.”
“I bet you have, buddy,” Mr. B. said, his voice a little deeper and lower now too. He was staring at my brother, this friendly but kinda intense look on his face.
Chris lifted one arm and sniffed his pit, and Mr. B. grunted, and suddenly I got the whole picture. I watched him slide his big paw into his lap and squeeze the growing bulge in his shorts, as my big bro stood between his big thighs and sniffed his own musky, sweaty, becoming-a-man scent. He ran his hand over the sweaty fur of his pit, then reached that hand down to Mr. B., who leaned in and sniffed it deeply, inhaling the scent with a husky growl, and suddenly my cock was like steel inside my briefs. My sweaty briefs, I thought to myself, and it was like a second big missing piece slotted into place for me.
“Not quite as sweaty as I used to get when I was doing two-a-days last summer - you remember that, Mr. B.?” Chris said.
“I sure do, sport,” Mr. B replied, grinning as he shuffled forward on the couch, leaned into Chris’ torso, and took a deep, loud whiff of him. “You smell more and more like a man every time, buddy.”
“You like it, Mr. B.?” Chris said, and the mix of boyish playfulness and manly huskiness in his voice was super intense.
“You know I do,” Mr. B. said, and there was this kind of needy edge in his deep, manly voice now.”
“Then taste it, sir,” Chris said, cupped the back of his close-cropped, gray-flecked head, and pulled the man;s face into his bare, sweaty skin.
“Fuck yeah,” Chris whispered all huskily, as I watched the man sniff him, pressing his handsome face to my brother’s golden-tanned skin, and then run his big, wide tongue up the center of Chris’ muscled stomach. My brother shivered, let out a soft little grunt, then looked over to me. He had this look on his face that I’d only seen before when I’d spied on him jacking off - a little faraway, kind of hazy but intense too. I found myself licking my lips as our gazes met, and he just smiled, nodded, and reached for my hand to tug me closer.
“OK?” he said simply, and I just nodded.
“Why don’t you get to know my little brother, Mr. B.?” Chris said after a minute of the big man hungrily worshiping his sweaty, toned form with his big tongue. He reached down and guided the man’s face to my stomach, and I found myself tensing my hard-won abs up for him. Mr. B. grunted, looked up at me, and gave me this big, kinda dazzling smile.
“I’m very pleased to meet you, Gav,” he said, all deep and warm and sending shivers all the way through me, down to the tip of my cock as it throbbed inside my undies. “I hope we can be friends too.”
“Yes sir,” I said, hearing the same huskiness in my voice as Chris had. Mr. B. grunted warmly in reply, then inhaled real loudly as he ran his nose up the center of my stomach, up between my pecs. Chris squeezed his arm around my shoulders again, then reached down to lift my arm up, exposing the sweaty dampness of my pit, and the fur there that had started to thicken up real nicely lately. Mr. B. just growled deeper, not breaking his stride as he leaned up and inhaled my scent all the way up deep into my pit. I shivered and let out a little moan at that, and Chris leaned in real close, his lips almost buzzing my ear.
“Trust me, baby bro,” he murmured, and then his lips pressed all soft and warm to my cheek, and I shivered and moaned and had to try real hard not to spontaneously cum in my undies at the whole situation.
It was just a quick peck on the cheek, but it was way more than just brotherly. When he pulled away and ruffled my sweaty hair, god, I wanted to tackle him to the floor and just go at him, like we did in my jack-off fantasies. But I trusted him - he was showing me his world now, and I wanted to know all about it. I wanted to know everything.
Mr. B.’s tongue was warm and wet, somehow like sandpaper and silk at the same time, as he slowly licked his way over first my skin, then Chris’, then mine again. From the waistbands of our underwear all the way up to our pits, and I wriggled and laughed a little at that, but damn did it set my cock to throbbing doubletime.
“Damn, you boys are beautiful,” he said when he came up for air, our skin spitshined and glowing in the dim light of his living room. Me and my brother were tenting our basketball shorts hard now, but not nearly as hard as Mr. B. was tenting his.
“How do we taste, Mr. B.?” Chris said, grinning.
“See for yourself, stud,” the man said, pulling my brother’s head down to meet his, and I grunted with surprise as I saw Chris and this handsome older man connect in a slow, smacking kiss. Not just on the lips - I could see their tongues, pink and wet, meeting and sliding all over each other. I couldn’t believe it. Chris? My big brother? The dude who’d never been without a girlfriend since he was 12?
I was starting to wonder if maybe I hadn’t gotten heatstroke, and was just hallucinating all of this. Then Chris stood upright, ruffled my hair again, and grinned at me.
“What do you say, little bro?” he said. “Think you’ll be able to take care of Mr. B. for me while I’m gone?”
I didn’t trust my voice not to squeak like a little kid’s, so I just nodded slowly, dreamily. I felt like my entire body had a boner.
“And you’ll take good care of my little brother, right Mr. B.? Like you take care of me?”
“Definitely, boys,” Mr. B. said in that rumbly, husky voice. “And if you two want to help each other out, I think we can arrange a little starting bonus for young Gav here…”
He reached out, his big hands squeezing our knees, rubbing up and down, pushing up under the low-hanging hems of our shorts. My skin felt like it was on fire from where he was touching me, but I barely had time to think about that, because Chris was reaching down to the waistband of my basketball shorts - our team shorts from school, and I don’t know why, but that sent such a shiver up my back - and tugging at the knot of the drawstring.
“Trust me, baby brother,” he murmured as he undid the knot, and then my shorts were coming down as my big brother leaned in and kissed me on the lips.
Fuck. Fuckin’ fireworks. I’d kissed a couple girls at school, and that was alright. Me and Shea Copley had made out a couple times when we’d slept over at each other’s houses, and that was even better. But kissing my big brother, holy shit, especially when his tongue flicked at my lips, and they opened wider to let him in. It felt so natural, so right, and so fuckin’ good. I could’ve cum right there, again, as I met Chris; tongue with mine and he grunted approvingly into my mouth, his hands sliding around my waist to lightly squeeze my butt through my sweaty briefs. Then he shifted his hands to my waist and turned me a little to face Mr. B., kissing me the whole time, going deeper with it and taking me with him. I heard Mr. B. grunt, then the pressure of his face pushing into my crotch, up against the throbbing hardness of my cock, rubbing his stubble over the sweaty mound of the cotton, all the way down to my balls, inhaling deep and loud and grunting with pleasure the whole time.
“Help me out, little bro,” Chris murmured against my lips, guiding my hand to his waistband. My fingers went into autopilot as they undid his drawstring, and I stared down hungrily at him as he slipped the shorts down his long, athletic thighs and bared the big, manly bulge in his sweaty little white briefs.
“You like, buddy?” he said almost softly to me, and all I could do was nod, blushing with shame, but unable to help myself.
“Good,” he grinned, ruffling my hair again. “I knew you would. I like that you do. And I like seeing you too, little stud.”
He reached down and pulled Mr. B.’s sniffing, nuzzling face into his big teen bulge, then pulled my head back to his and slid his tongue easily inside my mouth. Mr. B. devoured us both in turn, switching back and forth between our throbbing young bulges, the fabric of our briefs getting damp with his spit as he set to work sucking our teenage sweat from the stretched cotton of our tighty-whiteys. I didn’t know what was turning me on more, the hot mouth on my cockbulge, or my big brother’s tongue teasing mine out to dance with his. Didn’t matter - I could feel my cum churning in my balls, that warning tingle sizzling along the length of my cock. I guess Chris could read me and my body well, because he reached down to push Mr. B.’s face more deeply into my bulge, drawing a deep, hungry growl from the man.
“You wanna cum, don’t you baby brother?” Chris said to me in that tender but sexy voice. Like it was just him and me alone, playing together. I nodded, then moaned as Chris ran his hand up my side to my pec, feeling the newly bigger muscle there that I was so proud of.
“So cum, Gavvy,” he murmured, lips brushing mine. “Cream your undies for Mr. B. He loves it. You’ll see.”
I moaned at that, feeling my cock and balls throbbing doubletime, knowing I was moments away, as Mr. B.’s lips and tongue soaked the cotton of my briefs onto my cockshaft.
“Cum for me, little bro, so I can see how well you’ll take care of my best customer,” Chris said, then slid his tongue into my mouth again and squeezed my ass, and I moaned and started to shoot and shoot and shoot.
I’d never had a cum like that. It felt like my body was turning itself inside out and flowing out the head of my cock, shooting into the warm, humid confines of my briefs pouch, as Mr. B. fastened his mouth over the head of my cockbulge and hungrily grunted and sucked the spurting fluid that escaped through the cotton. Chris wrapped his arm tight around my waist to hold me up as I shot and moaned and quivered all over, sucking tenderly on my tongue and swallowing my moans. When it all finally subsided, I felt as weak as a baby. All I could do was watch as Mr. B. stood, a hungry look on his ruggedly handsome face, his lips shiny and flecked with my cum, as he reached for Chris’ head and pulled my brother into a deep, hungry, smacking kiss.
Dude, Chris is tasting your cum! my brain said in awe.
“Gav, I think you’re gonna do just great taking over for your brother,” Mr. B. said huskily, and when he curled his hand around the back of my neck, he didn’t need to pull me into the kiss. I was meeting him more than halfway, loving the hungry way he moaned when his tongue met mine, making me moan back as I tasted my first-ever man’s tongue, and the funky taste of my sweat and my cum on it too. Chris’ hand rubbed my back encouragingly, and I could see him grinning proudly at me from the corner of my eye as I let Mr. B. show me how men kissed.
Mr. B.’s bedroom was as dim and warm as his living room, the ceiling fan turning slowly over his big bed as he let us strip him out of his clothes. His body was big and warm and solid with beefy muscle, his chest covered in thick dark fur that felt amazing as I ran my fingers through it while him and my big brother kissed, slow and sloppy. His cock was big and thick too, like the rest of him, the biggest I’d ever seen, even Dad’s. I was a little intimidated by it, until Chris took my hand and guided it to the thick, sticky throb of it, the two of us slowly sliding the foreskin over the fat, shiny head of the man cock while he groaned with pleasure and let his big hands roam over our naked skin and the fresh layer of sweat covering us.
The man drew us both closer to his thick, powerful chest, kissed us each in turn, and then all three of us together, tongues slipping in and out of each other’s mouths, our breath mixing all warm and humid between us. Then Chris slipped out of the kiss as Mr. B. drew me into his big, muscular arms, and I kind of lost track of my brother for a few minutes. Mr. B shifted against me, and I glanced over his shoulder to see Chris kneeling behind him, a bottle of lube in his hand, squeezing a stream of it down his big young cock, making it shine wetly. My eyes widened as I saw him reach between the big, hairy muscles of Mr. B.’s thick, powerful ass, making the man groan into my mouth. I grunted with surprise when Chris winked at me, stroked the coating of lube over his piece, then bent it down and pushed it inside of the big older man. Chris had a big cock, I already knew that, and the way Mr. B. grunted even deeper told me he was feeling it. But the way he arched his back and pushed that big, sexy ass back against my brother, meeting him halfway, told me they’d been doing this for awhile now. The idea of my brother doing his rounds with his lawnmower at 15 and meeting Mr. B. for the first time, and just how they’d gotten to this, made my cock throb doubletime in Mr. B.’s big, sweaty hand.
Shea Copley had sucked my cock once or twice on those sleepovers, and that was very cool, but it wasn’t anything like the sensation of Mr. B.’s experienced lips and tongue working their way down into my sweaty bush in one smooth sucking stroke. It was a good thing I’d already shot in the living room, because I wouldn’t have lasted long otherwise, especially when my brother leaned over Mr. B.’s muscular, sweaty back and pulled me into a deep, wet kiss.
“Don’t cum yet, baby bro,” he murmured between kisses. “I’m warming him up for ya.”
He sure did, and damn it was amazing watching my big brother fuck. His athletic body glowing with sweat, his tight teenaged muscles getting all pumped up and even more defined as he showed me how to fuck. He looked like a porn star, like he could be in a Sean Cody video, and I could tell he liked having an audience. Mr B. kept growling and grunting around my cock, sucking on it like a pro as he pushed his chunky, sexy ass up higher, the room full of the sounds of my big bro’s hips smack-smack-smacking against the mans beefy, hairy ass.
“This is how you do Mr. B, right, baby bro,” Chris moaned, then got this hazy look on his face. “Ah fuck… I’m about to cum in him, little stud. Watch me cum, Gavvy…”
This time it was me taking the initiative, leaning over Mr. B’s back to kiss my brother as he pumped his best client full of his thick young cumload. I wanted to cum too, so bad, but I knew this was one of the things Chris was trying to teach me. Not just how to run his business, but how to be a man too.
I had that kinda feverish feeling again as Chris grinned and stroked a layer of lube down the length of my already spitshined cock, Mr. B. watching over his shoulder with a sexy grin. I could see the remnants of my big brother’s cum stuck to the thick, dark hairs of Mr. B’s ass trench, more of it gleaming on his pink hole. Chris didn’t need to lube the man up for me - he’d already done it with his own cum, and that idea had me right on the fuckin’ edge again, but I managed to hold it down, even when my brother took hold of my cock, stroked it lovingly - “Fuck, you got a nice cock, baby bro,” he said with a grin, and I felt ten feet tall right then - and then lined the head of me up against Mr. B.’s welcoming, cum-slicked entry. Then with my brother’s hand cupping my ass and pushing me gently forward, I was losing my cherry, in the best way possible.
“Aw, you boys,” Mr. B. moaned, pushing that big ass of his back, and it was like his hole was sucking me into him. I moaned and pushed and felt the wet warmth of my brother’s cum inside of him, slicking him up for me to push my own teen cock as deep as it could go, my fingers digging into the steely beef of Mr. B.’s hips as I struggled not to cum.
It took a minute, frozen in place while my second load settled down inside my balls, watching Chris take my place in front of Mr. B.
“Taste my cum, Mr. B.,” he said, that sexy, manly edge in his voice as he guided the man’s head to his cock, all sticky with his shot load, fresh from the man’s ass. “Taste the cum I just shot in you, sir - nice, thick teen cum, like you love. Like my little bro’s gonna keep giving you, if you take care of him.”
Mr. B. moaned and swallowed Chris to the root, and as my sexy big brother winked at me and put his fist out, I grinned back, pounded my fist against his, and started to fuck for the first time.
It was so insane inside of him, all hot and tight and wet, and between that and my big brother’s tongue, the scent of our fuck sweat, the eager way big studly Mr. B. fucked his beefy ass back against me and urged us both on, two sweaty teen brothers fucking him at each end, I knew I couldn’t last long. But I did my best, trying to fuck him like Chris fucked him, listening to my brother’s instructions and encouragement as he taught me how to fuck a man.
“Tell me when you’re close, baby bro,” he grunted. “We can fill Mr. B. up together, yeah?”
“Oh fuck yeah,” I moaned, and Mr. B. grunted huskily between and below us. “Let’s fuckin’ do it, big bro…”
“Hell yeah, little dude,” Chris grinned. “Cum in him, kiddo. Show him you can fuck him liek your big brother does.”
“Aw dude,” I wailed, and felt my body tighten up in preparation, and then I was coming again, hard, my cum joining my big brother’s inside of Mr. B., the big man groaning as he got seeded with teen brother cum at both ends.
After a day of mowing and two intense loads, I was pretty much done. Luckily all we had left to do was lean up against Mr. B. as he sat up against his headboard, fisting his thick, sticky man’s cock, our arms tucked up behind our heads so he could bury his face in our sweaty young pits while he jacked his big cock intently. Chris and I swapped tongues and spit slow and lazy, grooving on each other in our post-cum glow as we let the big man feast on our young sweat. It didn’t take very long at all until we heard the fat, heavy splats of his grown-up’s cumload spurting up his beefy torso, soaking into the sweaty carpet of manfur that coated his brawny bod. Then there was nothing left to do but clean ourselves up, rinsing off the dried sweat and cum and spit together in Mr. B.’s big shower, swapping slow, wet, friendly kisses and gropes between the three of us.
We picked up our clothes off the living room floor, but when I went to pull my musky briefs back on, Chris put his hand on my forearm, shaking his head with a grin. I watched him pull his basketball shorts up his long, tanned legs, over his bare ass, and got the picture immediately.
“I gotta say, I was worried I’d have to find somebody else when you told me you were headed off to school, bud,” Mr. B. said as he came into the living room, clean and dressed and looking like a respectable middle-aged suburban dad-type again. He handed Chris a bank envelope, decently thick with bills.
“But you’re still happy with the service, right sir?” Chris said, with a grin as he slipped the envelope into his pocket.
“Oh, very much so,” Mr. B. said. “I think young Gavin here can take care of my needs very well while you’re gone.”
He reached into his shorts pocket and pulled out a couple of folded bills, and pressed them into my palm while shaking my hand.
“It’ll be my pleasure, sir,” I said.
“Mine too, buddy,” he said with a wink. “You know, if you two are looking for referrals, I have a couple of friends who could use some help too…”
“Well, I’m here until August,” Chris said. “Maybe we can work something out.”
I felt my heart pump a little harder at that. Chris just winked at me, the reached down to scoop our discarded briefs up off the floor, and handed them to Mr. Blake.
“In the meantime,” he said, as Mr. B. brought our bunched up briefs to his nose and inhaled deeply, his eyes closed, making a satisfied noise deep in his big chest. “Same time next week, sir?”
It felt amazing riding home in Chris’ Wrangler, the roof and doors off, nothing but our thin team practice shorts on, the warm late-spring air rushing over our bare chests. I could feel my cock starting to chub up again, as I reached into my pocket for the bills Mr. B. had pressed into my hand.
“Dude, fucking score!” Chris said at the sight of the two crisp hundreds. “I think he likes you. Good job, little dude.”
He ruffled my hair again, and my cock slowly filled out again, stretching across my hip. Chris looked down at it, chuckled, and when he shifted gears, brought his right hand down to squeeze my bulge.
“You know, there’s more I can show you before I leave for school, little brother,” he said. “You up for that?”
“Fuck yeah,” I said, spreading my thighs a little wider, letting my big bro cop a good feel of my young hardness. “I think I’m going to like working with you.”
“Me too, little stud, me too,” he grinned, giving my cockbulge a slow, squeezing stroke through my shorts. “Let’s stop in at Target on the way home, though. One thing about this job - you’re going to need new underwear, and often.”
“That’s a business expense, right bro?” I grinned, reaching over to give the big bulge in his shorts a squeeze of my own, feeling him starting to throb into a full hard like me.
“Oh yeah, you’re gonna do just fine at this, bud,” Chris laughed. “Just fine.”
(Another favorite of mine...)
More stories like this at https://talesfromunderthemattress.tumblr.com/tagged/story+time
“Welcome home, bud,” I said as he shut the trunk, a big smile on his face as he stepped up to me, wrapped his free arm around my shoulders and gave me a firm hug, slapping my back a couple times for emphasis.
“Thanks, glad to be home.” he said. “And merry post-Christmas, I guess,” he added with a chuckle.
He smelled good, damn good, some kind of light, clean fragrance on him as I savored the moment. My boy, done with school and the holiday stuff at his mother’s. Back with me again, and even though it had only been a couple weeks since his December graduation ceremony, I’d missed him more than I thought I would. But he was here now, and that was all that mattered.
“C’mon, let’s get your stuff inside,” I said, reluctantly breaking the hug, stepping back to take in the sight of him, standing there in the California sunshine. As always, he looked fine - finer than ever, really, with his ballcap tugged low over his handsome face, his shirt undone a couple of buttons, showing off the smooth skin of his firm upper chest. He’d really gotten the best of me and Maria, and had turned out better looking than either of us, a mix of my build, his mother’s Latina coloring, and a good-looking face that had made the girls a little nuts for him since he was a kid.
Definitely not a kid anymore, though - not with the size of the bulge packing the front of his pants all snugly. Genes from my side of the family, I couldn’t help but think with a little bit of pride. 22 going on 23 now, and definitely all man, that was for sure. He was a damn fine sight to behold, had been for several years now, and I couldn’t help but feel a mix of wistfulness and envy - he was really coming into his prime, handsome and athletic and bright and young, a world full of possibilities awaiting him.
He didn’t have all that much with him - I’d brought a load back from his off-campus house after graduation, and all that was left was a couple of duffel bags of clothes and a box of books. I set them down at the foot of the stairs, and as I stood upright, it was his turn to hug me, strong young arms snaking around my waist as he nestled into me from behind, his chin tucked over my shoulder as he squeezed me again. I got a serious case of the warm-and-fuzzies all through me, and took a moment just to savor him and us, together again at last.
“Christmas felt endless,” he murmured. “All I could think about was getting back here. Being with you, big guy.”
I turned around in his arms, taking in the sight of him, up close and personal, and in private. Shit, seeing him as a man now was still an awesome thing, after twenty-plus years of watching him grow up. I squeezed the firm, muscle-packed arms beneath his shirt, feeling him tense his biceps up for me. His grin was a mix of shit-eating and confident, the man in him winning out over the boy he’d been.
“I like this on you,” I said, reaching up to graze my thumb over the little patch of dark beard on his chin, all carefully trimmed and shaped, setting off the boyish handsomeness of his features. “Damn, you’re looking more and more like a man every time I see you, kiddo.”
“More of a man, you mean, Dad,” he said. “Your man, right?”
My guts tingled a little at that, at the easy self-confidence, the depth of his voice, the warm intent of his brown-eyed gaze. At his words, more than anything. My son - my man. Yeah.
The kiss came naturally, his lips full and soft on mine, moist and a little chewing-gum minty, parting naturally as our mouths worked together. He drew his arms tighter around me as I did the same to him, pulling each other in close as the kiss deepened, lips smacking softly together. The last time we’d kissed had been his graduation weekend a couple of weeks back - a hard, hungry, months-apart kind of kiss, full of heat and lust and need. This one, though, was a kiss of a different kind - long, warm, deep, passionate in a whole different way. Just savoring each other and the electric connection of our lips and tongues.
“Let’s get your stuff put up, before we get too carried away,” I said when we reached a natural break point in the kiss, squeezing the close-cropped bristles on the back of his neck, the way he’d always loved. My cock was throbbing inside my jeans, full and hard, and from the constant graze of his big young bulge against mine, he was feeling it just as much as I was.
“We are gonna get carried away though, right Dad?” he grinned over his shoulder at me as he picked up one of his duffels and started up the stairs, two at a time. My eyes flicked down at the bulge of his firm, muscular ass as it stretched against his pants, and I felt the old, familiar hunger inside me intensify. I couldn’t help but reach up to give one solid globe a deep, playful squeeze.
“Fuck yeah, I thought so,” he chuckled, heading for the landing as I picked up his other things and followed behind him.
We got to the top of the stairs, and I deposited his things inside the door of his bedroom. We both stood there for a moment, looking at the room - the queen bed up against the wall under the windows, a Cardinals poster over his desk, his high school baseball trophies ranked along the bookshelf. His mother had a couple of kids with her husband, so he didn’t have a room over there - this was his space. So I was surprised when he turned around, bag in hand, and headed across the hall to the master bedroom - my room.
“Uh…” I said as he walked in and set his bag down at the foot of my bed.
He stepped over to me where I stood in the doorway, that mix of humor, respect and confidence in his expression that I’d really started to notice on him these past few years. A man coming into his own, a fine young man slipping firm arms back around my waist as I kind of gaped at him.
“I figured this is how you wanted it to be, Dad,” he said, that smile of his filling out as he squeezed his arms around me, looking at me levelly, but respectfully. Like the man he was now. “I mean, after summer, and all…”
He didn’t need to say any more than that. I’m sure he knew exactly what I was thinking, the hot rush of images flooding through the front of my head. All the sweat and heat of summer, before he’d gone back to school - the glow of sweat on his fine-honed young muscles, the way my bedsheets pooled around the muscular trimness of his hips and ass as he gazed down at me and thrust his hard young cock up inside my tingling ass. The taste of his tongue, thick and wet and assured as it danced slowly with mine. How my cum splashed hot across the hair and skin of my stomach as my boy fucked my load out of me, before plowing his own into my depths.
“I’m home now, Dad,” he said, his eyes deep and brown and locked on mine as he squeezed me again, drawing me subtly closer. Deeper into his warm young embrace. “Came home to be with you. Be your man.”
I opened my mouth, not sure what I was going to say, just that something needed to be said - I was his father, after all. The man of the house. Only, looked like there were two men of the house, now. I hadn’t really thought about it that way, and I sure didn’t have time now, as he leaned in close again and kissed me.
I’d never gone in for that whole alpha-male thing - I figured real men didn’t need to obsess over labels and identity like that. I’d always been a pretty take-charge, in-control kind of guy - my father had been a quietly confident and competent kind of guy, and I’d done my best to be like him. It had made me a good soldier and a pretty good boss now that I was a civilian. Looked like Damon was taking after me like I’d taken after my father, too, quietly asserting himself as he snaked his strong young arms around me and kissed me like the lover he’d fast become since high school. Whatever I’d been thinking of saying to him, at the confident way he’d set his stuff down at the foot of my bed, claiming his space in here alongside me, it was gone now. Gone in the slow, skilled thrust and dance of his tongue on mine, in the way his strong ballplayer’s hands slid down my back to cup the muscles of my ass and gently squeeze, in the heavy, insistent throb of his big young cock against mine.
I couldn’t help but think again of last summer, all the time we’d spent getting each other hard and naked, all the taboo intensity of our lusty, incestuous coupling. It wasn’t our first summer together like that - we’d had a few summers together exploring the new intensity of our dad-son dynamic by that point. But it had been our first summer of him fucking me. Damon enjoyed being fucked, and I sure loved fucking his sexy jock ass, but as mutual as we were with everything else we did to each other, it had somehow never crossed my mind that he’d want to fuck me. Maybe it was because I hadn’t taken a dick like that since I was in the service, I don’t know. But when he’d pressed his nearly naked body up the length of mine on the couch last May, looked me deep in the eyes, and asked if he could fuck me, I found myself saying yes before I even knew it.
We fucked all summer, and it felt like a whole new chapter of our taboo bond, a new level of father-son lust to be explored. He still liked to be fucked, there was no way to fake his enthusiasm when I worked my big Dad dick up his tail, but god damn if he didn’t treat a man’s ass like a natural-born top. It had been kind of uncomfortable at first, but the way my son used his tongue and fingers, and then his cock, had me consistently fountaining cum up the length of my torso, my toes curling, clutching the bulging mass of his big young biceps as he stared down at me with a lusty grin and fucked another big young load up inside of me. By the time he’d headed back to school in August, things were definitely different between us. Better, really, but the way my son had shown himself to me, as the man he’d become, had given me a lot to think about in the months since then. A lot to think about, and a lot to stroke about.
I didn’t need the memories now, though. Not with the way he was pushing my polo shirt up my chest as we sucked on each other’s tongues and grunted low and deep. I found myself raising my arms automatically, Damon breaking his assertive kiss long enough to get the shirt up past my face, leaning right back in to reconnect as soon as the shirt cleared the crown of my head. No time to overthink things now, as I kissed him back hard, the depth and intensity coming roaring back into our bodies like we hadn’t ever been apart. I worked my hands over his trim hips and the muscular flare of his ass as he hunched himself into me, groping the big muscles of mine right back.
Just a few buttons and a push took care of Damon’s shirt, and while he shook it free of his wrists, I groped the firm, smooth flatness of his pecs. Naturally smooth, not a bit like me in that respect, strong from years of baseball. He flexed them up for me, and I growled and licked the warm skin of them hungrily, fastening my lips to one big, stiff brown nipple as he moaned and clutched the back of my head.
“Fuck I missed you, Dad,” he groaned, rubbing the back of my neck as I licked and sucked on the stiff peak of his jock kid tit. “Missed this bad, big guy.”
He ran his hands up my lats as he leaned in and started to nuzzle the side of my neck, tracing his lips over it before crushing them against the skin, a warm, wet kiss as his tongue licked at the skin of my neck, up to my ear, making me shiver and groan around his nip.
“Big sexy fuck, Dad,” he growled into my ear, all deep and low and so fucking manly, I couldn’t help but shiver inside. “My big sexy fuckin’ dude.”
“My sexy fuckin’ kid,” I growled back as I leaned up to meet his mouth again. “My sexy fuckin’ man.”
Damon let out a little half-grunt, half-whimper at that, and fed me his tongue again. Our hands grabbed at each other’s belts, yanking and releasing, unbuttoning, unzipping. Damn but it was a treat to slide my hands down his waist, pushing his pants down from the inside as I felt the hard-carved muscles of his hips, his glutes, his upper thighs. He was doing the same to me, moaning into my mouth as we felt each other up. I was damn glad I’d kept at it in the gym. I’d always been pretty fit, but being with my boy like this had kept me motivated to fight back against middle age. I wanted to be hot to him, like he was hot to me. Show him the body he’d inherited from me, to its best effect. He sure seemed to appreciate it, as he stroked me all over and kissed me deep, and yeah, I wasn’t blind to the covetous, lusty way he stroked and squeezed my ass through my boxer briefs. The ass he’d fucked, and well, for most of last summer. Hell, I was doing the exact same thing to his prime young tail, all high and tight and hard and round, all in my hands as we went to town on each other.
I ran my hands over the dark, bristly shortness of his hair as he crouched down between my spread thighs, stroking his hands up them, looking up at me sitting side-saddle on the bed above him and nodding approvingly. I ran my thumb over the little ruff of beard on his chin, grinning at the typically-Damon way he’d shaped it, all the care he put into his appearance. Not a vain kid, necessarily, but he’d always been good-looking, and he’d always taken good care of himself. It had made him even more popular, and while it was a hot, secret kick to see the way people looked at him once he hit his mid-teens and started to get really fine, it was fucking mind-blowing when he’d come to me the summer after his senior year, and told me how fine he’d always thought I was. How hot he thought I was. A mind-blowing summer after that in all kinds of ways.
He grinned up at me as I scratched his chin with my thumb, then ducked his head, those full lips parting, his tongue pink and gleaming as it licked the pad of my thumb, then down the underside of it. He locked his big brown eyes on mine and sucked my thumb to the root, making me flow precum even harder inside my straining boxer briefs. That insanely hot combo of the sensations, the sounds of his mouth working wetly on my digit, the happy, deep-chested grunts he was letting out as we gazed at each other.
Damon primed me like that for a couple minutes, coming up off my thumb with a gasp, his lips glossy with spit as he grinned up at me, tipped me an incredibly sexy wink, then reached for the waistband of my shorts.
“Aw shit aw shit!” I hissed through gritted teeth, my ass clenching tight as it came up off the bed. I couldn’t even look down at the sight of my son swallowing my cock, all skilled and self-assured as those full lips slicked their way down my shaft, his tongue somehow like sandpaper and silk at the same time as it lavished my throbbing hard flesh. Watching him do it might make me want to cum even more, and there was still so much more to do.
He’d been good at this that first summer - too good for it to have been his first time, and we talked a lot about that afterwards, how he’d prepped himself for coming onto me like he did. It still fired my nuts off bigtime, the stories he’d told me, about dugouts and best buds’ bedrooms, the back seat of the team bus, the front seat of a Silverado, the hot, salty loads he’d coaxed out of balls, down his throat, all the prep work he’d done before he came to me. Wanting to be good for me, so he could show me how much he meant it, all these things he felt for me.
He was beyond good then, and even better now. No lie, the best head I’d ever had, and not just because it was my boy who was giving it to me. I told him so as I cupped the back of his head, listening to the lewd, wet, gulping sounds of him sucking, making fresh spit for me as he swallowed even more, bathing my throbbing Dad cock in the warmth of it. It overflowed his lips, streamed down my shaft, into my bush and over my balls, the warm trickle of it making things even better. I felt the graze of his fingertips over my balls, through the hair I kept trimmed back ever since he’d done it for me four summers ago. Spreading the wetness of his spit over the skin, his touch light but confident, stroking my big full balls as he sucked the hard column of flesh he’d come from.
The way he stroked down over my taint, through the fur there, all warm and moist with sweat and his spit, made me shiver all over. I finally looked down at him as he teased the skin with his fingertips, and found him gazing up at me. Kind of adoringly, yeah, but also with that directness he’d found lately. A man’s gaze, not just a son’s. My man, I thought, and shivered all over again, feeling the head of my cock throb precum into his swirling spit. My thighs spread a little wider, giving him more access, and he took me up on it, grazing the tip of his middle finger over the hair that lined the tightness of my hole, making me tingle all up through my core. He made a deep low, affirmative noise that sizzled all the way down my cock, buzzing my balls, making me grunt and squirm and open up to him, and then he slipped his finger inside of me.
Fuck, if I was struggling not to cum before, the feeling of Damon’s finger stroking my nut while he swallowed my cock was making it a real challenge to hold onto my load. I clutched the covers in one hand and the back of my son’s slow-bobbing head in the other and held on tight.
“Fuck, Dad,” he growled, his voice all thick with spit when he came up off the end of my cock a few intense minutes later. Thick strands of his spit connected the fat head of my cock to his full lips, and the lewd way he sucked it up, the horny grin he gave me, made me grunt with lust for him.
“Can’t wait to get this inside me again, big guy,” he said, giving it a slow, spit-slicked stroke, leaning in to run his tongue up the underside of the shaft, meeting my eyes again as he did. He had two fingers lodged inside me now, skilfully stroking my prostate as he slow-jacked and licked my piece, those big brown eyes alive and hungry and happy.
“Shit, me either, stud,” I grunted, my voice all tight, rubbing the back of his head. He pushed himself upright, all long, defined muscles under smooth tan skin, his cock threatening to bust out of the skimpy little grey briefs he was wearing. Grey and soaked dark where the thick head of his cock pulsed at the fabric, soaking it with his pre, the patch slowly spreading. I reached out and ran one hand up the long, hard muscle of his thigh, feeling him flex it up for my appreciation, his fingers slowly working inside me still.
“You will, Dad, believe it,” he grinned, leaning down to buzz my lips with his. I could taste myself on them. “But there’s something else I’ve been looking forward to, too.”
He stroked my prostate for emphasis - as if I needed it - and fed me his tongue again, thick with the taste of the cock that had made him.
“God, so fuckin’ tight,” he growled lustily many long minutes later, coming up out of my ass, that little thatch of beard all glossy with his spit. For all his playful lustiness earlier, he was all man, all lust now, his eyes big and dark and intent on mine, working my cock with one hand, his other squeezing the muscles along the back of my thigh. I was laid out on my back, legs in the air, feeling lewd and loving it, my hole tingling from the intense, skilful tonguework he’d laid down on it. My boy Frenched my hole as well as he Frenched my mouth, sliding his tongue up inside of me with the same hungry joy I felt when I did it to him. I couldn’t wait to feast on his tight-muscled ass like he’d been doing to mine, but for right now, I was too horny to think about much more than the long, slow, probing licks of his magical tongue, digging deep inside of me.
Why else had I cleaned myself out so thoroughly this afternoon, before he got here? I’d known this was coming. Knew what he wanted. The thing was, I wanted it just as bad. Maybe more. Now I was getting it, in spades.
“Let me taste you, buddy,” I growled, and my kid scrambled around obediently, presenting his briefs-straining bulge to me proudly. I loved him in these underwear, but even more out of them, my hands yanking the flimsy things down his athlete’s thighs, his big hard cock snapping loose, all wet-headed, a slightly darker, uncut version of my cock. Big and hard and ready to roll. Ready for anything.
He tasted all salty and natural, clean but worn-in, musky and rich and dense. Like a man, more and more each time, and I growled happily around him, savoring the taste of his big, slow-leaking piece as I slid my lips down the veiny, pulsing length of my boy. He moaned and clutched the back of my head, letting me glide up and down on him for a couple minutes, three of his fingers plugging my tingling, hungry Dad hole while I worked, slowly squirming inside of me. Then he shifted around on the mattress, stretching out towards my groin, and gave the head of my cock a slow, wet sucking that had my toes curling. 69ing with my boy was one of those sweet, intense pleasures that had a permanent place in my mental highlight reel, but Damon had other plans. He was a little longer in the torso than me, long and limber enough to spit my cock out and nuzzle his way up past my balls, his long tongue lapping at my spit-wet taint, through the fur and up to my hole, following the path of saliva he’d laid down a little while ago, refreshing it as he slipped his fingers from the ring of muscle and replacing them with his tongue, licking his way back into me.
Your kid’s eating you out while you swallow his cock, Doug, that lusty voice in my head said. You know what that means, don’t you, buddy.
Yeah, I knew what it meant. I was no fool. I knew what he wanted, and more than that, I knew I wanted it too. Maybe even more than he did.
The practiced, self-assured way Damon squirted lube onto his cock made my insides churn with a complicated mix of love and lust. Awe, too - awe of the man I’d made, the man he’d become. A good son, a good man, and an excellent lover. He looked up at me as he slicked the big, handsome length of his young cock up, giving me that panty-dropper of a smile he had. I held my own superhard cock in my hand, not stroking, just reminding myself of what my boy could do to me - do for me. I watched him squirt another stream of lube down on the backs of the three fingers he was still slowly working inside of me, pushing the slick, cool stuff into me, up into that space no other man had touched for twenty years, before him. The way he worked my hole open, prepping it with that skilful self-confidence, I knew it now - my hole was his. And my son knew it too, as those big warm brown eyes met mine, biting his lip a little as he worked his long, lubed fingers up deep inside me, spreading the stuff around, spreading me open for him.
“Yeah Dad,” he grunted as he pushed up into me. It wasn’t nearly as tough as the first few times this past summer, because once my boy’s big cock had tripped that old switch inside of me, he’d made a believer out of me all over again. Just like my old buddy Anderson had, back when I was 20, in the back of an old Army Ram pickup, parked deep in the pine trees in a sandy, forgotten corner of Fort Bragg. Changing my perspective, making me feel things I never thought I’d feel about myself. Making me touch myself when I was alone, reliving the intensity of the sensations inside of me, making me cum like a teenager all over again.
The way Damon had fucked me last summer, fucked me and filled me, had awoken that feeling in me again. I’d kept it up as best as I could these past few months, with my fingers and a toy, jerking myself off as I probed up deep inside of myself, feeling lewd, feeling dirty, feeling on fire. Ready for my boy to come back home and come to me like this again.
So it was easier now, yeah, because I knew I wanted this - no, needed it. Needed the slick, throbbing, hot press of his hard young flesh entering me, nothing but a slick layer of lube separating our skin as my handsome stud kid rocked his hips and fed me seven hard inches. It was easier, but no less intense, and I had to squeeze my cock firmly to stem the imminent flow of my cum. My toes curled and I moaned huskily, and my boy moaned right back with me.
“So fuckin’ tight,” he hissed, biting his lip again, his eyes somehow hungry and soft at the same time as he worked that big, hungry young dick of his up into my depths.
“So fuckin’ big,” I grunted back, and the pleased look on his face made me smile. The same look he got when he received a compliment on a job well done, a look I knew well from these past twenty years or so. For the thousandth time since we’d gotten deep like this, I felt the powerful twinning of paternal pride and intense manly lust, that taboo thrill stoking the fires inside of me along with his cock.
As always, when he was complimented on his work, my boy set about trying to do an even better job. Once he was fully embedded inside me, the trimmed dark fur of his bush meshing with the hair on my balls, he leaned down to buzz his lips over mine.
“I love being inside you, sir,” he said, quiet and deep. “Love being your man, Dad.”
“You’re one hell of a man, buddy,” I murmured back, flicking my tongue against those sensuous lips of his. “My man, son.”
“Aw Dad,” he grunted, and kissed me hard as he pulled his athletic hips back, then fed me all of that handsome young dick again in one smooth, firm, deep thrust, and we were off and running.
My cock was drooling precum all over my stomach, throbbing back to full hardness as Damon stroked his cock over my spot, up deeper inside of me, giving me that intense sensation of fullness to go along with the powerful glow of pleasure on a slow burn all through my loins. I couldn’t touch myself, because I was in this for the full ride right along with him.
Instead, I ran my hands over the bulging mass of his upper arms, his muscle-rounded shoulders, over the smooth, sweat-glowing muscles of his square young pecs. I admired the flex and shift of his defined abs, the way his hips articulated, the lusty, deep, intent look on his handsome face as his gaze roved up and down my torso, from where his cock pistoned in and out of my tight hole, up past the hard, leaking stretch of my father cock, over the still-firm muscles of my chest, all dusted in manly fur. Then up to meet my eyes, nodding at me, both of us feeling the essential rightness of what we were doing. Not just the rightness of him fucking me - but god damn, it was so right - but the rightness of being so close, so deep, a father and son coupling in sweaty, incestuous heat. I’d never felt this way with anybody else. Not just pleasured - connected.
We alternated between low, lusty murmuring, then stretches of wordlessness, just pants and grunts and the slap of flesh against flesh, the slick sound of a big cock breaching a well-lubed hole repeatedly.
“Nobody else, Dad,” he half-grunted, half-moaned, his body a machine built for pleasure, sleek and strong and precise, fucking us both up to that fast-approaching peak. “Nobody ever… fuck… never this good…”
“Nobody like you, son,” I grunted back, reaching up to stroke the sweaty side of his face, his eyes boring deep into mine, all flushed and panting and beautiful. “No other man.. no-one…”
“Your man, Dad,” he gasped, fucking harder, deeper, faster. “Wanna be yours. Can I, Dad? Can I be your man?”
“Fuck,” I growled, feeling the intensity of what he was saying rippling through me, riding the crest of my onrushing orgasm. Fueling it. “You already are, buddy. Daddy’s man. My man. Always have been.”
“Always,” he hissed through clenched teeth, and I couldn’t miss the emphasis he put on that. Always. Yeah. It was a huge idea, huge and wrong and deep, and so fucking right. I knew it was never going to be this good with anybody else. Hell, I’d probably known it since that first summer, when we’d first cum together.
“You gonna make your man cum, son?” I grunted. “Show me how good you are?”
“Fuck yes,” he growled, taking hold of my hips more firmly, tilting them up to dick me even deeper. We were both well and truly in the red zone now. No stopping. No turning back. Not that either of us could. Not that either of us wanted to. “Gonna make you cum, Dad. Make my man cum so good…”
Damon slid one hand up to cup the back of my head, possessive and determined, his face full of lust and love and the deep, secret history of our incestuous bond. On fire with it. He loved this as much as, maybe even more than I did. Being his father’s man.
“Cum for your man, Dad,” he grunted. “Show me how much you love this. How much you love who we are.”
“You and me, son,” I grunted right back, my hand around my cock now, strumming it, scaling that last peak. “Bein’ men together.”
“Fuck yeah, family men,” he growled. “Together, Dad. Always. Fuck!”
That pretty much did it for me, that and the intensity of his cock pounding my prostate, the handsome face of the boy - the man - I’d made and raised and loved like no other. Fucking me like the man he was. My man. My son. Mine.
My cum came blasting out of my cock, hot ropes of it, painting my chest with thick, pearly streaks as I clutched my hardon with one hand and his hard arm with the other, gasping as I shot one of the most powerful loads of my life, clear up to my collarbone.
“Yeah, Dad, yeah,” Damon grunted with a lusty grin, then a determined look on his handsome face. He ran his hand up from my hip, all through the thick streaks of cum on my torso, then slid it back down, all warm and sticky, taking firm hold of my hip again and setting a hammering pace inside of me.
“Fuckin’ cummin’ in my man,” he moaned through gritted teeth, then his mouth dropped open into a wide O, his dark brows knitting, all the firm, strong muscles in his arms and torso straining in sharp relief as he plunged his cock to the root inside of me.
“Ah Dad!” he gasped as he flooded me with his young stud cum, throbbing and spurting deep inside of me. Not the only man who’d ever fucked me, but the only man to ever claim me like that. No matter what I thought or said, I knew that for a fact, now. I was his. He was mine.
Damon stayed inside me as we folded around each other, my cooling cum pasting our torsos together as we kissed, deep and slow, the kind of long, languid makeout we both loved, all tongues and slow-flowing spit and satisfied grunts and murmurs. He stroked the sweaty side of my face as we traded tongues, and again, I felt that intense sense of pride at the lover my son had become - the man he was. A man I’d helped shape, sure, but all of this came natural to him. It was deep inside him, like we were deep inside each other.
When his cock eventually softened and slipped from me, I felt its absence intensely. I watched him reach down between my thighs, felt the trickle of his cum leaking from me, the swipe of his thumb across the puffy tingle of my hole sending shivers through my loins. When he brought his cum-slicked thumb up to my face, grinning with sexy confidence, and slipped his seed into my mouth, I nearly gasped at the natural, unselfconscious power of my stud kid.
“So what do you say, Dad?” he said after another round of slow, sticky kisses, his hand caressing the big muscle of my chest, tracing through the cum, sweat and fur there. Something both loving and possessive in it. I was his, inside and out, and he was mine. No question about that, anymore. “Can I move in here with you, or what?”
God damn, there was something so powerful and sensual about that whole idea. Not just him sleeping in here with me, or sharing the bed. Sharing each other, fully. Men of the house, together. I hadn’t shared my bed that way with anyone since I’d divorced his mother, and hell, for quite a while before that, to be honest. Hadn’t felt right with anyone else. But with him, with my boy - my man - in the moment, I knew.
“We could be so good together, big guy,” he murmured, ducking his head to press his lips to my chest, those big brown eyes getting to me like they always did. “We’re too good together already not to give it a shot.”
I cupped the back of his head and gave him a level look.
“If we do, I’m still your father, you know,” I said. “No matter what else we do, or are together, that comes first.”
“Always, Dad,” he smiled, stretching up to brush his lips over mine. “Always my father. Always my man. And I’ll always be your son, no matter what.”
“You’ll always be my man, big guy,” I grinned, loving the big smile that spread across his handsome young face.
“Gonna show you, you’ll see, Dad,” he murmured against my lips, teasing them. I knew he meant it - he was always good like that - and the idea of how he intended to show me sent another electric thrill through my core.
“But if you want to make me come first sometimes, that’d be cool too,” he grinned.
“Yeah, I think that can probably be arranged,” I chuckled, folding my arms around him and pulling him back into me to see where we went next.
Special thanks to my Bro @pagespermer for inspiring me to do this one.
More stories like this at https://talesfromunderthemattress.tumblr.com/tagged/story+time
“I wouldn’t have brought him… wouldn’t have told him… if this wasn’t right, Dad,” he murmured in my ear. “He wants what we have… wants to be like us… with us. Can he, Dad?”
I turned to Justin, his eyes deep and blue and intent on mine, and I saw every bit of the man I’d created. A man I was intensely proud of. A son every father deserved. We drew in close for another kiss, a little slower, deeper, less about our kinky lusts and more about our intense connection. Then I turned back to look down at Alex, who was staring raptly up at us both as I continued to slow-dick his fine, tight ass.
“You’re sure this is what you want, Alex?” I said as I thrust slowly in and out of him.
“It’s all I ever wanted, sir,” he said. Then, after a moment, with a slow-spreading blush across his handsome young face: “Dad.”
I couldn’t help but moan at that, and drove my throbbing cock faster, harder, deeper inside of him.
“Then welcome, son,” I moaned. “Welcome to the family.”
*****
Despite the thorough workout Justin and Alex had given me yesterday, I was still up at 6 and in my building’s gym, savoring the effects of a great night’s sleep and the lingering afterglow of an intense afternoon and evening with my son and his best bud. Old Navy habits die hard, I guess, even though I’d been out of the service myself for over a decade. So when my phone vibrated next to the rowing machine with an incoming text message from Justin, I was more than ready to take it.
>Breakfast?
I grinned, and felt my cock twitch with interest inside my sweaty gym shorts. Down, boy, I thought to myself, looking down at the thickening shape of it in the mesh fabric as I thumbed the Reply button.
>>Absolutely. Just finishing in the gym. Let me know where you want to meet.
I powered through the last of my time on the machine, and took a moment to check myself out in the big mirrors as I toweled the sweat off my face. Still in good shape, broad-shouldered and tight-waisted, even if I was a little thicker in the middle. Pretty good for a guy heading towards 50. Even the grey in my hair was working for me, and I knew if I wanted to head down to the bars in Hells Kitchen, I wouldn’t have much trouble finding some hot young dude to come home with me, if I wanted that.
But what I wanted was on his way - possibly two of them, two handsome, athletic, energetic and entertaining young sailors. My son, and his extremely hot best friend, the guy who’d actively asked to join me and my boy in our illicit, incestuous affair. Asked to be accepted as part of our family. Hell of a thing, I thought to myself as I rode the elevator up to my floor. It sure hadn’t seemed like just play for him, yesterday - the way his face had opened up, naked and unguarded, when I’d called him ‘son’. The intensity in his eyes when he’d called me ‘Dad’ as he slid that fine young officer’s ass down the thick length of my sticky paternal cock. The way Justin had murmured the word ‘brother’ against his lips before sliding his thick, agile tongue between them, as we welcomed Alex to our special, intense family bond.
A boy without a father, and not much in the way of family of his own. A man, really, smart and engaged and curious. A man just like my boy Justin. A man I’d be proud to call ‘son’. I wondered how much of that was down to the sheer intensity of yesterday, the heat and the sweat and the spit and the cum we’d shared between us. How much of it was just Alex playing a game, tasting that forbidden fantasy so many men secretly lust after, but few actually achieve. It had been a real risk to let him into what Justin and I had, and that risk kept tugging at my mind this morning - but Justin trusted him, and I trusted my son implicitly. He was mature and responsible beyond his years, destined for great things, and I knew he wouldn’t jeopardize that bright future of his for some fuckbuddy fun. Wouldn’t jeopardize what him and me had.
I’d just dropped my keys in the dish by the front door and was about to toss my sweat-damp shirt and towel into the laundry hamper when the intercom buzzer rang. I looked at the video screen, and saw the two of them looking at the camera, smiling, combination caps firmly in place, just as fresh and clean as when I’d met them yesterday. As squared-away as when they’d set those hats back on their head at my front door late last night, before leaning in to share a round of deep, soulful kisses with me. I pushed the intercom button.
“I thought I was meeting you men for breakfast?” I said
Justin lifted a paper bag up to the camera, Alex holding up a tray of cardboard coffee cups, and the grins on their faces inched a little wider. I chuckled and hit the button to unlock the lobby doors.
“Morning, Dad,” Justin said as I let them into the apartment, stepping up to me, one arm sliding easily around the back of my neck as he met my lips in a soft, intimate kiss. I returned it on instinct, a definite rise happening inside my shorts, even as I felt the awkward thrill of Alex’s eyes on us in our father-son embrace.
“Good morning… sir,” Alex said, a little blush making him even cuter as he said it. Justin stepped smoothly out of my direct embrace, making room for Alex, who suddenly seemed a little unsure of himself. So I hooked my arm around his trim waist and pulled him gently to me, admiring the five-star handsomeness of his perfectly clean-shaven, square-jawed face beneath his combination cap for a moment, before leaning in to kiss his lips. They parted readily to accept my tongue into the warm, still minty-fresh cave of his mouth, and it took very little prodding to get his tongue to move slowly, deeply with mine for a long, smacking kiss.
After he stepped back from me, face flushed, a pleased little smile on his face, a rapidly growing tent inside my gym shorts, a silence fell between the three of us. It felt a little like Justin was hanging back and watching me and Alex interact, while Alex seemed to want to say something else, but didn’t quite know what or how. So like a father sometimes has to do, I took the initiative.
“That was quite a night last night, men,” I said, watching their smiles widen. “You all OK with everything?”
I knew Justin was - that kid was down for just about anything at all. It was Alex, who I didn’t know nearly as well, that I was wondering about. Him and me had a lot of catching up to do, if what had sparked between us all last night was going to keep growing. If that’s what we all wanted, and right now, my gut was telling me that what had felt right in my bed last night felt even more right in the light of the day.
“I am, sir,” Alex said. “I thought about it a lot last night. What it all meant. How… big it all was. And I was all ready for you guys to turn around and tell me it was OK, it was just a game we were playing. But when I got up this morning, and J asked if I wanted to come back over… I said ‘yes’ without even thinking about it.”
“You sure that wasn’t just your dick talking, bro?” Justin said with a sly grin, reaching over to grazer his hand over the prominent bulge in Alex’s crisp white uniform trousers.
“Shut the fuck up,” Alex laughed, knocking his buddy’s hand away. “I mean sure, hell – you two are hot as fuck. What we did yesterday was… just damn. But it wasn’t a dick thing – it was a gut thing. You know what I mean?”
“I do, bud, I do,” I said, smiling, and nodding, because yeah, Alex got it.
“When it’s right, it’s right… am I right?” Justin said, slinging those muscle-dense arms of his around both our necks, and pulling us in tighter. Making a unit of us.
“Just like it was with us, huh son?” I said, and he nodded eagerly. When he tilted his chin up towards me in that unmistakable invitation to kiss, there was no way I was going to resist him. Our lips met, soft yet firm at the same time, parting to admit each other’s tongues in a slow, sweet, moist dance. It was still a little strange to have somebody else witness this, but it was thrilling too. As hot and intense as our secret bond was, it was a heavy burden at times, too. Having Alex here to know us this way somehow made that part of it easier. Made me realize just how damn much I loved my boy, in every way a father can, and all the ways one man can love another too.
“I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of seeing that,” Alex said when we finally parted.
“Better get used to it, brother,” Justin said, then turned and favored his best bud with his talented lips and tongue, and it was my turn to enjoy the show.
“So… we’re cool, then?” I asked when they separated. Alex locked eyes with me, Justin watching the two of us intently, and then slowly nodded. “What we had last night… would you like to keep exploring that?”
“Oh yeah,” the kid said almost dreamily, and I had to chuckle at that.
“Thank fuck for that,” Justin said. “Because I’ve been meaning to tell ya, Dad – you smell fucking amazing.”
“Well, I was expecting to shower and go meet you fine young studs someplace…” I said.
“Damn glad you didn’t, big guy,” Justin said with that telltale husky edge to his voice, and with that he was leaning into my bare chest, running his nose through the fur on my stomach and between my pecs, still moist with sweat from my workout.
“God fuckin’ damn I’ve missed the scent of you, stud,” my boy growled, and I swore my cock grew another inch at the manly, intensely sensual sound of his voice and the way he loudly inhaled my sweaty musk.
Justin pushed my left arm up, exposing my sweat-damp pit, and laved it with his tongue, long and slow, sending a shiver all through me. Just as I was losing myself in his attentions, I felt my other arm being pushed up, and Alex was entering the fray, mirroring his best bud’s actions with a husky, appreciative noise of his own.
“Yeah, you like a man’s scent too, huh son?” I murmured to him.
“Fuck yeah,” he grunted. “More than you could ever know, sir.”
“I thought we cleared this up last night, son,” I said, looking deep into his eyes. “You can call me Dad now.”
“Ah fuck… Daddy,” he half-moaned, half-whispered, his eye all big and shiny like they were in bed last night, and I had to pull his handsome face to mine and draw him into another deep, probing, intensely sexual kiss. A father-son kiss, like the men in the McGowan family liked to do best.
Justin had one big hand on the hard curve of my ass, groping it through my shorts, the other hand doing the same to the even harder curve of my cock in front, as he feasted on my sweat and my scent and my pitfur. He kiss-licked his way up the inside of my bicep, lapping up the remnant trails of sweat there, before pressing his lips to the stubble on my jaw, then tracing his tongue up to my ear, making me shiver again as I fed Alex my tongue, and received his in return.
“He really wants to be one of us, Dad,” my son whispered in my ear. “A McGowan man. Just like us. Not just a one-time thing.”
“For good, huh boys?” I growled, and the two of them nodded eagerly, almost boyishly at me. “Part of our family, and our bond?”
“Yes sir,” Justin said, his eyes intent.
“Yes Dad,” Alex said with a half-smile, but I could see the equally serious look in his eyes.
“Then let’s take this to bed, sons,” I grinned, squeezing the stubbled backs of their strong young necks, below their combination caps. “That’s where this family likes to be best.”
This time, they left their caps on, the rest of their uniforms neatly folded over the back of the chair by my bed. They made quite a sight, their proud cocks curving up with steely, youthful hardness, smiles on their faces as they turned to each other to kiss, hands grazing over each other’s skin. Then they set their caps more firmly on their heads and climbed up on the bed, to come for me.
“My boys,” I growled with lusty pride, and the boyish, happy whimper Alex let out made for a crazy contrast with the hard-edged musculature of his young man’s body as he slid up the length of my body to resume our earlier kiss, as my firstborn took my cock in his hand and swallowed it slowly and skillfully to the root.
“We did quite a lot last night, didn’t we, son?” I said to Alex a little while later, my orgasm slowly subsiding in my balls as my two young men nestled up beside me, hands playing over the thick contours of my torso.
“It was amazing,” he said, and I knew he wasn’t just saying that.
“But if you’re going to be part of this family, you need to know that we share everything,” I said. “And there’s one thing we didn’t do that I think we really should, if you’re going to be one of us.”
“Oh man, this is gonna be awesome,” Justin said, that boyish excitement ringing through his deep, manly voice.
My boy took over from there, drawing Alex into him for another slow, sensuous kiss, the pink slip of their tongues enticing as hell. I watched Justin remove Alex’s cap, then his, setting them neatly side-by-side on my bedside table. Then he put an arm around his buddy-brother’s neck and guided him down low, down between the thickness of my thighs as I spread them wide to let them in.
“Dad first let me fuck him when I was 16,” he said to Alex. “My birthday present. The first time he fucked me, and the first time he let me fuck him. Incredible night, bro.”
“Oh shit,” Alex half-whispered, his eyes rapt in his buddy-brother’s gaze.
“Not the first time we’d done anything together, though,” Justin said, with a grin and a wink at me, and I smiled at the memory of his clumsy first attempts at sucking my big Dad cock sometime before that big night. The sweet-salty taste of the thick young cum blasting forth from his man-sized cock and across my tongue for the first time too.
“But the first time for the real man’s stuff,” he went on, and then his face disappeared, just the close-cropped copper of his hair visible as his warm breath gusted over my cum-filled balls, through the fur on my taint. Then the soft, yet firm press of his lips to the sweaty skin there, grazing lower. Going deeper.
“Come taste, little brother,” he said, after a long minute of tender, caressing kisses over my most intimate zone. Alex let out another of those hungry, boyish noises as Justin leaned up and kissed his lips, and those two words – little brother – set our whole dynamic into place. I knew this was something that had crackled between them for a long time now, and it slotted perfectly into our familial bond.
Justin guided Alex down, and I now felt his breath, excited and gusting my cock, balls, taint, and then deeper. His lips were tender as they caressed their way over my taint, nuzzling up and down, almost like he was marking his face with my scent. Marking himself as mine. That was a powerfully primal image, one that set an even bigger bead of precum growing in my cockslit.
“Go ahead, little bro,” Justin said, and the warmth and tenderness in his voice was stunning to hear. Powerfully sensual, sexual and familial all at once. “Taste our Dad.”
Alex let out that whimper-moan again, and dove right in. Now it was my turn to grunt with pleasure as he went for it, first nuzzling, then kissing, then licking his way through the thick fur that crowned my entrance, zeroing in on the core of me. His lips and tongue were eager and very talented, and in no time, the fitted sheet was balled up tight in my hands as I rode out the intense sensations of being eaten out, and well.
“Trust me, he’s really good at this, Dad,” Justin said with a wink, rubbing Alex’s back and shoulders as the kid went noisily to town, a chorus of slurping sounds, hungry grunts and panting breaths coming from deep between my thighs.
“No… fuckin’… kidding,” I growled, feeling myself loosening at the relentless, hungry, sensual assault of my new son’s skilled tongue. I’d watched him slurp up my freshly-spent cum from Justin’s hole late last night, and wondered how his mouth would feel doing the same to me. If we’d had more time yesterday, I might have found out. But we had literally all damn day now, and the complete freedom to do whatever we liked. After all, we were family now. And like I’d told Alex, in the McGowan family, we shared everything.
“Can I fuck you… Dad?” he asked sometime later, and I saw the boy he had once been, handsome and respectful but a little hesitant too, shining through the manly handsomeness of his young officer’s face.
“You want to be inside your Dad, huh son?” I said, because I knew the words were important.
“I do, sir… always have… you don’t even know,” he halfway moaned, but of course I did. I’d seen it on his face ever since he first set foot in my apartment yesterday. Just like I’d seen it in Justin’s face when he was not much more than a kid himself.
I looked my new boy deep in the eyes, reached down between my thighs, and ran my finger over the spit-sticky clutch of my hole, slowly, feeling the deep tingles the motion set off.
“Fuck,” Alex whispered, staring down at my finger touching myself, slow-fisting his big young cock.
“Then come to Daddy, son,” I said, with a welcoming smile on my face.
Thankfully, Justin was handling the support-team side of things now, because he already had a heaping handful of lube to slowly slick up and down the length of his buddy-brother’s cock, and again over and inside of my hole, talking to his new brother in a low, deep, intent voice. The connection between the two of them was electric – I’d seen a good bit of it last night, but it was even more powerful this morning, in the full light of the day.
“Go easy, bro,” he murmured to Alex. “This ain’t your first time at the rodeo… but imagine it is, OK? Imagine today’s your birthday… your special day… and Dad’s giving you the gift you always wanted, little brother.”
“Ah big bro,” Alex moaned, and kissed his brother.
Justin slipped up behind him, and I knew he was nestling his thick, epically hard cock up between the hard, squared-off muscles of Alex’s ex-wrestler ass. He wrapped his red-furred forearms around Alex’s torso and kissed softly up and down the side of his neck as he stroked the tensed, beautiful sculpture of his little brother’s torso. I gave my own throbbing cock a gentle stroke as I watched things unfold, letting my son show me the man he’d become, and show Alex the big brother he could be. The one he’d always wanted.
“You’re 14 years old, baby brother,” Justin murmured in Alex’s ear, his eyes trained on the side of his head. Alex’s eyes drifted closed, his mouth open as he slowly panted. “A beautiful kid. Growing up fast. Ready to be a man.”
I tried not to gasp at the quiet, intense intimacy between them, listening to Justin murmur the fantasies Alex must have shared with him. My god, the depth of their bond. How incredible it must have been to discover what they had in common so deeply.
“You’re 14, and you’ve wanted to be with your family like this for so long, little brother,” Justin continued, his voice low, deep, soft, almost hypnotic. “Stroking that big, hard cock of yours since before you could cum. Even more once you started to shoot. All alone in your single bed. Dreaming of this. Being with your men.”
Fuck, even I could picture young Alex as Justin was describing him, and my cock visibly twitched as I contemplated the idea. Justin could really talk up a blue streak in bed, in all kinds of ways - hard, nasty and raunchy, or softer, deeper, intense in a different way. The second time we’d fucked, he’d spontaneously started talking to me as I thrust up inside of him, telling me how long he’d really wanted what we were diving into. Telling me a story of a youth on fire with a grown man’s desires. The things he’d wanted for years by that point. A story about an ill-fitting swimsuit of his, and my gaze, and the way that look had set him on fire inside, and set us on the path to becoming lovers.
But that was then, years ago, and this was now, and now Justin was squirting a dollop of lube onto Alex’s fingers, and my new son was applying them to my tingling hole, a shock of cool quickly growing warm as the gel warmed to my body temperature.
“So this is our birthday gift to you, baby brother,” Justin was murmuring, his lips gazing Alex’s ear, making him shiver. “Making you one of us. Our Dad ready to let you inside of him, and your big brother right here with you. Because we love you, little brother. You’re one of us now.”
Justin ran his hand over the hard-carved muscles bulging under Alex’s tanned skin, rubbing over the stiff dark bullet-points of his nips, as Alex let out a deep, lusty moan and thrust his tongue into Justin’s waiting mouth. At the same time, I felt the firm, blunt tip of his big young sailor’s cock, slicked with lube and precum, pressing against me. Pressing inside of me.
“Ah fuckkkk,” I growled, as Alex broke the kiss and looked deep into my eyes.
“I love you, Dad,” he said, simple and clear.
“I love you too, son,” I murmured back, reaching up to stroke the side of his face, seeing his eyes gleam and soften. “Show me you’re my boy.”
He nodded once, a military affirmative, and I watched his abs flex as he thrust his hips, fully breached my hole, and slowly, steadily pushed all the way inside of me.
Damn, the kid was a good fuck, for sure. For all Justin’s compelling fantasy talk about taking him back to his first time as a very young man, he blew all that out of the water with his manly skills, his eyes alternately soft and deep and yearning, then deep and intense and commanding, his face cycling through a range of expressions - surprise, lust, love, determination. He was about as big as Justin and me, a solid piece of young American cock that fit inside of me like he was born to this. It felt just like it did when Justin fucked me - not just the raw, satisfying sensation of being thoroughly and skilfully fucked by a hot young man, but the deeper connectedness to it too. A real sense of power. The ultimate expression of masculinity, and the thing that had always put sex with men way above any other kind of pleasure.
“Am I doing good, Dad?” he panted, sweat rolling down his striking face. “Am I fucking you well, sir?”
“So damn well, baby boy,” I growled. “Fucking your Daddy like I always dreamed you would, son.”
“Jesus fuck,” he hissed, and set a faster pace, his trim hips going thwack-thwack-thwack against the beefy muscle of my upturned ass and the backs of my thighs.
“Fuck yeah, little brother,” Justin growled, leaning in to lick up the sweat trails coursing their way down Alex’s neck, over his firm, hard-flexing pecs, from the smoothness of his freshly-shaved cheek. “Look at you, bro. My little stud kid bro. Fucking like a man.”
“Like a McGowan man,” I grunted. “One of us, for sure. Our boy.”
“Oh god damn,” Alex moan-wailed, keeping up his determined pace. The kid was a sexual athlete, just like Justin, Like his big brother. Like I’d prided myself on being, back in my Navy days. He might look different from us, but he fucked like us, and felt like us, and the growing feeling in my gut wasn’t just my rapidly approaching orgasm, as he fucked his way skilfully over my prostate - it was that growing feeling of rightness.
Alex slid his strong hands under my hips and lifted my ass up a little more, changing the angle as he leaned forward over me, his breath hot on my face as he stared into my eyes and dripped sweat on me. I had a vague glimpse of Justin moving around behind him, the sound of him kissing all over Alex’s muscular shoulders and back, and then he disappeared from my view. The sudden change in Alex’s face, his eyes rolling up a little, going half-lidded, clued me in to what my eldest was doing. Yet another thing he did so well, and when he came up for air a few minutes later, his chin shiny with his spit and the sweat from deep down in Alex’s ass, we exchanged an approving nod over Alex’s gleaming shoulder. Justin smiled confidently, then leaned in to kiss the side of Alex’s neck.
“Your ass is so beautiful when you fuck, little bro,” he murmured, with a tenderness to his sexy words. “It’s always beautiful… but especially now.”
I could see the big muscles in Justin’s right arm working, his hand out of view, and I didn’t need to hear the lewd, slick, squishy sounds of the lube being applied to know what was going on. Alex slowed his fuck pace, looked over his shoulder at his new brother, and nodded. His smile was dazzling, clear and white in his tanned face, and again, the connection crackling between the two of them was mesmerizing. I watched Justin’s face, the tip of his tongue poking out slightly in concentration as he looked down at Alex’s five-star ass, saw the movement of his right arm as he positioned his big young sailor’s cock, and then his hands took hold of Alex’s hips and he pushed his way inside of him.
“Fuck yeahhhh,” Alex moaned, his face a mix of discomfort and pleasure as my big young son thrust up into him. I knew well how that felt, but Justin knew how to fuck a man’s ass right - and not just because I’d taught him. It was sheer natural talent. Born to lead, born to fuck - that could’ve been my boy’s motto.
All of this, the physical and psychological and emotional intensity of what we were doing, was starting to really get to me. I’d largely left my cock alone, letting it drool a copious flow of precum all over the sweat-matted fur on my stomach, but now I took it in hand, jacking it slowly at first, amplifying all the sensations of getting stud-fucked by this hot young sailor, this new son of mine, while watching him get thoroughly filled by my pride and joy. It was incredible mix of sensation and lust and love for these young men and what we were building between us, not least of which was a powerful set of orgasms.
I could feel mine building, boiling and churning deep in my balls, my cock tingling inside and out with the anticipation of it, and I started to stroke myself faster to bring it on. Alex opened his eyes, his hips fucking almost on autopilot now that he’d found the rhythm between me and Justin, looked down at my hand on my cock, and slapped it away,
“No sir,” he grunted. “Not yet. I want that Dad load in me. Yours too, J. Both of ‘em. Don’t you dare cum, you hot fucks.”
“Yeah, you got a plan, baby brother?” Justin panted, sweat gleaming on his creamy redhead’s skin now, his big ex-wrestler torso looking finer than ever, the chunky muscles flexed almost in concentration as he really put the wood to Alex. “My fuck-muscles,” he’d called them one time when he was 17, rightfully proud of the fucking he’d just delivered. They were in full effect now, even better than ever with all the PT they did aboard.
“What you wanna do, son?” I grunted, forcing myself not to touch my angry, drooling hardon. “How you gonna take your family’s cum, baby boy?”
“You’ll see,” he grunted through gritted teeth, his face full of lusty determination, mixed with preorgasmic haziness. “Make me cum, you fucking family studs… and I’ll show you.”
I looked over his shoulder at Justin, who just shrugged. Looked like this was Alex’s show now, and we were just along for the ride. One hell of a ride, to be sure. So I pulled Alex’s sweaty, flushed face down to mine and kissed him, long and deep and wet, tender and paternal, lusty and sexual, giving him the best I had as Justin set a faster, deeper pace on his ass, giving him his best too.
“Can’t wait to breed you up, my son,” I murmured against Alex’s lips. “Make a true McGowan out of you, you little stud. One of us. Real… fucking… family…”
“Oh my god, Dad,” he moaned, and from the look on his face, and the focused intensity on Justin’s, I knew his prostate was getting thoroughly assaulted.
“So cum for us, little brother,” Justin grunted through gritted teeth. “Cum for us, and show us how we can cum in you. Make you ours.”
“Ours for good, son,” I said, verbally tag-teaming him with my son now. “Take our cum… take our name… take your place in our bed…”
“Alex McGowan,” Justin grunted, his hips thrusting harder, faster, deeper, aglow with sweat. “My little brother.”
“Alex McGowan,” I said, staring deep into his eyes as I held his face in my hands, feeling his fuckstrokes growing erratic inside of me. “My son. Our boy.”
“Our family, little bro,” Justin huffed. “For life, baby brother.”
“We love you, son,” I murmured. “Now cum for your family, baby.”
“Awww fuckin’ fuck!” he yelled, his beautiful muscles tensing up hard, frozen like a statue, his face getting that starey, spacey look of a man whose orgasm is rolling through him like a freight train with no brakes. Heat and steam and sparks inside of him, as he stared into my eyes, trembling all over, and shot his cum into my depths.
“Goddamn, too fuckin’ much,” Justin hissed, suddenly tugging his cock free from the tight confines of Alex’s hole and staggering backwards on my bed, his face flushed and intense as he clutched his red-tipped cock tightly around the base, the other hand tugging on his big young balls to ward off his own cum.
Alex slid forward onto my chest, and my arms slipped around him and stroked up and down his sweaty back, as he gasped and twitched. I kissed the side of his neck, behind his ear, rubbing my big hands soothingly over his ass and up and down his flanks.
“You’re beautiful, baby boy,” I murmured to him. “Daddy’s boy. Proud to call you my son, Alex.”
“Thanks Dad,” he half-whispered, finally looking up at me with that big, white smile of his gleaming. Justin slipped down beside us on the bed and pulled him in for a slow, sensuous kiss, and then I took my turn with him too.
“You guys need to cum,” he said.
“Fuckin’ A we do, little brother,” Justin grinned, cuffing the back of his close-cropped, dark-haired head playfully. “So tell us your big plan, dude.”
He looked at us, and I don’t know if the red in his cheeks was post-orgasmic flush, or something more. Either way, I was intrigued. I didn’t necessarily need to cum right now. But my curiosity was piqued, for sure. He cut eyes from Justin to me and back again, and bit his lip. He was absolutely fucking adorable. He was absolutely ours, I knew.
“Well…” he said…
To be continued…
More stories like this at https://talesfromunderthemattress.tumblr.com/tagged/story+time
A side from needing more gay shows and movies I want more representation in the roles they play in the bedroom like I need more young tops x older bottoms
As a young top myself I feel like it would be so hot to have younger men as the top when in a relationship with an older man
