Date: Mon, 2 May 2016 02:00:15 +0000 (UTC)
From: a4f101@yahoo.com
Subject: The Intern

Here's a new story I wrote especially for Nifty. Usually I write for my
Tumblr - a4f101.tumblr.com/storytime - and repost here to Nifty, but this
one's all-new for you guys, to celebrate my 100th story posted to the Nifty
Archive. It's longer and deeper than my usual stuff, more of a slow-burn
leading up to the sex. Stick with it. I'll be doing more Nifty originals in
the future, and I wanted to kick that off with this one.

This story is heavily incest-themed, but the sex depicted is between two
(or more) consenting, non-related adults, who wish they were related, and
play like they are.

Special thanks to Bill Drake for his assistance and advice with this one.
If you don't already know him, you need to check out his stories, here on
Nifty and at his Tumblr, drakestories.tumblr.com. I wouldn't be writing at
all if it wasn't for him. He's one of the best around. Thanks, bud. You're
a real brother.

This story is purely a work of adult erotic fantasy, copyright me 2016. I
own it and all legal rights to it. If you're under the age of majority in
your jursdiction, please come back when you're of legal age.

Nifty is an incredible free service that depends on your donations to
survive. It changed my life, and maybe it's changed yours too. Please help
them to keep providing this awesome resource for all of us:
http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html

I love hearing from you guys. a4f101@yahoo.com. Enjoy.

*****

Sometimes you just gotta go with your gut.

At least that's what I was thinking as Kieran O'Malley stood in front of my
desk, his 5'10", 190-pound college wrestler frame filling out his pressed
dress shirt and blue trousers quite nicely. No, I don't do the hiring for
the company, but I had given HR the resume and put in a good word for
O'Malley, since me and his dad go way back, back to our fraternity days at
SigEp. Me and Big Jim shared a bunch of business classes, and in the
evenings and on the weekends we'd share a twelve pack or some quality
weed... and after we'd loosened up a little, we'd share some good times
rolling around in O'Malley's bed before the big wrestler gave up his hole
for my always horny cock. I never met a dude so keyed up sexually and so
hungry a bottom. That he had a fleshy-hard classic wrestler's bubble butt
made the sex that much more awesome.

Of course, we'd both settled down after sowing our oats. We'd both married,
had a son, and gotten divorced. Jim's boy Kieran was now at Penn, and my
guy Caleb was tearing up the high school football records in his senior
year at Westdale High.

"I've finished the PowerPoint, AJ," Kieran said, his voice a nice mellow
mix of jock baritone and Ivy League polish. He had his trademark smile on -
the kid seemed eager to do even the most tedious assignments I gave
him. I'll give him credit. Ivy League kids usually make the worst hires and
even worse interns. Too convinced of their own ability, and not that
willing to do work they consider beneath them. I had one Harvard grad who
had the balls to ask me the first week of work how long it would be before
he got his first promotion.

Kieran was different. Jim had done a good job raising a young man with his
head on his shoulders and a good work ethic. He'd spent the first week
going around all "yes, sir" and "no, sir," until I finally told him to call
me AJ. He went out of his way to do work and to make my life easier. You
might think him a suck-up, only I got the feeling it was genuine, a real
desire to do a job and do it well. Color me impressed.

Still, I had this gut feeling about him.

It was similar to the one that had guided me to start up with my son Caleb
a few months back. The biggest risk of my life, but one that had paid off
bigtime – a risk for the both of us, one that we'd both been willing to
take on, and plunge headlong into. I still had to pinch myself that I was
having sex with my studly football-star son on a regular basis. It was
unbelievably naughty, taboo, and hot, sneaking around and upping the
stakes, going from handjobs to kissing to oral and finally, three weeks
ago, fucking for the first time. I felt like a college dude again, sexual
and alive, and closer emotionally to my son than I ever thought possible.

I had an instinctive feeling Kieran O'Malley had a similar arrangement with
his old man. It was just a vibe I picked up, the tone in Jim's voice when
he called me to let me know Kieran was looking for a summer
internship. Fatherly pride in his voice, sure, but it almost sounded like
the big lug of an ex-jock was in love with his own kid. And the way Kieran
perked up every time I talked about his father. Excited, like it was his
first crush... hell, maybe it was.

I pushed my chair back and leaned away from my desk, arms behind my
head. Despite some extra middle-aged spread around the middle, I'm in
pretty good muscular form for 44. I had Caleb to thank for that - something
about having a young jock around the house that's extra inspiration to get
back in shape - and I could see O'Malley's eyes surreptitiously take in my
body as my dress shirt stretched over it. Or maybe silently he was just
feeling superior that he had the taut, perfect form of a 20-year-old
wrestler.

"Got lunch plans, O'Malley?" I said.

"I brought a sandwich, sir," he said. "I'm saving up for a trip to Jamaica
with the brothers on Fall break."

"Yeah, I know how that is," I chuckled. "Well, I hope you're not too
attached to that sandwich, bud. We're going to lunch, you and me."

Friday afternoon in late June and the office was practically deserted. I
was pretty much the highest-ranked staff member in the office, and with
hardly anybody but me and O'Malley around, I decided we'd take a long
lunch. Part of it was professional - he deserved someone senior looking out
for his time at the company, to make sure the internship wasn't just a
low-grade temp job. But, yeah, sure, I had some ulterior motives. I'd have
to tiptoe around it, but I was determined to find out more about Kieran and
his dad, my old college fuckbud.

I had that gut feeling that Caleb and I had found, against all odds,
another dad-son couple. I didn't want to get too far ahead of myself,
because I knew how rare that was. But my instincts – paternal instincts,
maybe, in some perverse way – were kicking over. And if there's one
thing I've learned in life, you gotta trust your instincts.

"Great. Let's take a late lunch then," I said. "Swing by your desk in about
an hour?"

"Yes sir," Kieran said, with a little twinkle in that handsome smile of his
to let me know he was tweaking me on the whole `sir' thing. The kid had
that same slightly playful sense of humor his old man had. I wondered what
other traits they shared...

My afternoon schedule was open, and I blocked out the hours on Outlook,
leaving room for this to be an open-ended lunch. By the time I powered down
the PC, I had to pinch the base of the newly forming hardon in my
khakis. My thoughts were getting way ahead of themselves.

I swung by Kieran's desk around 12:30, where he was proofing a presentation
for me and redoing some of the graphs, completely absorbed in his work. Not
fucking around on the internet, like most interns would be doing on a slow
Friday - and I generally don't have a problem with that, so long as their
work is done and it's not an everyday thing. But the kid was really putting
in some solid work, making my presentation better. We were paying him the
pretty standard intern rate, but was planning on inking a little bonus for
him that should make him very happy at the end of his internship, before he
headed back to school.

"Ready?" I asked. I gave his big shoulder a squeeze, felt the big muscle
under his shirt flex. Yeah, it was a little unprofessional, maybe, but it
was almost instinctive on my part, something I did with my own kid, man to
man. Kieran seemed to take it as a normal, male closeness thing, looking up
at me and smiling, all blue eyes and big white teeth and lips I could
clearly picture parting to slide down my... Shit, no, bad train of thought
to be boarding. These flat-front pants didn't hide anything at all once my
cock started to fill out, and I'd hate for the kid to get the wrong idea
about me.

That smile could melt stone. All genuine, and god damned cute. I felt my
cock stir a little, again, in my boxer briefs, so I left him to close up
shop, before I got into obvious trouble...

"Don't forget to bring your things, buddy," I added. "It's a slow day -
might as well get the weekend started."

He tried not to look too excited five minutes later as we waited for the
elevator - 20 years old, and he's still pretty much a kid, I guess - but he
had his messenger bag over his shoulder, and we headed down to Ruth's
Chris.

I could see his eyes pop a little at the menu and the prices, but I'd
worked out a way to expense the whole thing. I don't think he believed me
when I told him to order whatever he wanted, and he still looked
disbelieving when I asked him if he was a bourbon man. Hell, when you're
20, you're pretty much an "anything I can get a hold of" man, am I right?
But he nodded, so I ordered us a couple. When they arrived and I held my
glass up, he picked his up, squared his shoulders and puffed up that big,
impressive wrestler chest, making the buttons on his slim-cut dress shirt
strain a little, showing me the white of his skin-tight undershirt
beneath. Caleb tells me they call it the "chest gap", and it's kind of a
mark of pride for young guys, another way to show off their impressive
pecs. Whatever, Kieran was showing it off to good effect, though I don't
know if it was that intentional. Kid seemed too deferential and eager to
please to show off quite like that.

"Here's to the future, O'Malley. I get the feeling it's gonna be a bright
one for you, buddy."

Man, the smile on his face, the look in his eyes - I wish I could've
captured it. Saw something very similar in Caleb's the first time I told
him he could spend the night with me. The optimistic excitement of a young
man in his prime, on the cusp of even greater things. Damn, I missed that
feeling. But I loved seeing it in my boy Caleb's smile, and I loved seeing
it just as much on big young O'Malley's handsome, square-jawed face too. We
clinked glasses, and maybe that first drink went down a little too
smoothly, but fuck it, it was a long lunch, and we had a lot of food coming
and no place else to be the rest of the day. So I ordered us another.

Lunch lasted nearly three hours, but it seemed to fly by. The kid was a
hell of a conversationalist – plenty of that youthful enthusiasm, but
with the poise of a man really starting to show through. Had some real
insights on a range of things, from sports to current events to business
talk. Especially with the second drink in front of him, he was at real ease
with me physically, and the way our knees brushed under the table was
casual, friendly, but yet somehow intimate as hell. He had this way of
leaning in when he was excited to make a point, and laying his hand on my
forearm to emphasize it, that kept my cock on a slow boil the whole
afternoon.

We got to talking about SigEp. Kieran had followed in his father's
footsteps by pledging at the Penn chapter, the oldest one in the country,
in fact. We talked about the fraternity and family tradition, about what it
was like to have that connection to your father. I talked about my boy
Caleb, who was hoping to pledge when he got to State in the fall, the same
house Jim and I had been in. I asked what it must be like for the younger
guys to have a certain rep to live up to.

"Well, I'm not in the same chapter, obviously," Kieran said, "But I do feel
that being legacy raises the bar a lot. It's something I've tried to live
up to, to be like Dad."

We talked about the difficulty of balancing good times with
responsibility. Kieran seemed to hold back a little, sensing he shouldn't
be talking to his boss too much about partying, but I did my best to put
him at ease, confessing that I'd had lived it up, maybe a little too much,
in my college days.

"What happens with brothers, stays with brothers, am I right?" I teased,
and Kieran laughed, a little more relaxed now.  Then I mentioned his
dad. Said how Big Jim was quite the legend in his day. That seemed to get a
big smile, and I felt safe to test the waters a bit more.

"You know, I got this buddy Bill, a guy from our house. I don't know if I
should tell you this, but Bill always had the biggest mancrush on your
dad." All true, but I failed to mention my own history with his old man. Or
the time me, Big Jim and Bill had spent a lazy long weekend over Easter
break, sucking and fucking and bringing each other off repeatedly in
various configurations. The many times, come to think of it. The three of
us had made quite a team like that.

"Oh yeah?" That got a chuckle. At least Kieran wasn't homophobic, and
seemed almost pleased to think of Jim as an object of attraction. Proud,
maybe. I had to press more.

I pulled out my phone and showed him pics of me and my boy on the boat
earlier this summer, Caleb shirtless and cut, pumped up hard from
two-a-days. Talked a little about how close we were, how we'd drawn tighter
through the process of his mother divorcing me, how proud I was to play a
part in his development as a young man, and to get a glimpse of the fine
man he was fast becoming. You know, typical proud-Dad stuff. Kieran nodded
approvingly, that big smile on his face still, and as I'd hoped, he started
to open up a little more about him and Big Jim. He didn't say anything
telling right away, but I could see the look in his eyes when he talked
about his dad. A certain tone of voice. I had to wonder if I was pushing
too hard, setting myself up for exposing me and my son's secret, all for
nothing. I put my phone away, quiet, a little introspective, letting Kieran
set the pace. Trusting my gut again.

Kieran paused for a second, like he was weighing something. Then he pulled
out his own phone and started showing me pics, him and Big Jim up at the
lake, shirtless, arms slung round each other's necks. The two of them at a
cookout at Kieran's chapter, smoking cigars. My hardon returned,
bigtime. The pictures themselves were innocent enough, but there was
something so powerful about the two O'Malley men's proximity, and the
visible affection in their eyes. The clear bond between them. Maybe not
everyone would pick up on it, but as a man intimately involved with his
son, I thought I recognized that particular closeness pretty well.

"I see you take after him, buddy," I said. "He's a handsome man, and you
definitely got his looks and his build. No wonder you're so dominant on the
mats, big guy."

He loved the compliments, and I could tell he was thinking. Assessing me a
little, assessing us, how open he could be with me.

"It's all because of Dad," he said after a minute's contemplation. He gave
me another quick, quiet, assessing look, and then he was talking again,
almost nonstop. About wrestling, following in Big Jim's footsteps, the
challenge of wrestling at a collegiate level, his hopes for the upcoming
season, his last one. Most of all, how Big Jim was there for nearly every
match, from his very first one. How much that meant to him, to have his dad
there for him like that, and all the wisdom and advice he'd given him over
the years.

So I took a chance. I pulled up another pic, one I don't generally
share. It's a shot Caleb took of us one evening down in the rec room, me a
little buzzed, as we sprawled out in the huge beanbag chair down
there. Caleb sitting on the floor in front of it, leaning back between my
shorts-clad legs, shirtless, resting his arms over my spread thighs, my arm
half-round his neck, hand resting over his big bare pec. In the pic, we're
looking at each other in an unmistakably intimate way. I keep this one in a
private folder on the phone, something I usually use when I just want a
little reminder of us, and him, and our special bond. Not one I would
ordinarily share. But I showed it to big Kieran.

He took his time looking at it, his face unreadable. Then looked up, a
quieter version of that five-star smile of his breaking out slowly, making
deep eye contact with me.

"That's a real nice picture, AJ," he said. "You and your boy are real
close, I can tell."

"Very much so, buddy," I said, brushing my knee against his. Feeling him
push back a little, then staying connected. "I love him very much. Not
every dad can say that he's got the bond with his son that I do with
Caleb. These past few years, since my guy's started becoming a man, we've
grown a lot closer, and it's been amazing."

I was still being carefully noncommittal, not putting myself on the line in
case I was misreading the situation. But I was getting a little more
suggestive, hoping Kieran could read between the lines, and that he'd feel
comfortable opening up a little more to me too.

"I know what you mean, sir," he said, after a thoughtful moment. "I really
miss my Dad. It's hard, being down here, miles away. He's always been there
for me. It's just been us for so long, and well... yeah. I know it's not
cool to say it, some people might think, but the hell with them - I love my
Dad. Very much."  He had a kind of wistful look on his face.  I was getting
the cues all right, clues that my intern was head-over-heels for his dad
Big Jim. I took a chance, reached over and squeezed his big hand in mine,
saw his eyes widen a little with surprise, then his smile spread.

"The hell with what people think, bud," I said. "Nothing - nothing - is
greater, or more important, than the bond between father and
son. Especially when you're men, and grown enough to understand that
importance. Most don't get how deep it can run, Kieran, but I do. Believe
me."

His eyes were big and kinda shiny, half from the liquor, half from the
depth of our talk. But he was rapt, totally attuned to me, like there was
nobody else in the world. Just him and me. My hand on his. An understanding
beyond words. Between men.

I didn't want to get the kid drunk, even though he's a big, muscular dude -
and a SigEp, so I knew he could hold his liquor. Just wanted to maintain
the good buzz we had, the kind you get when you have a fine steak under
your belt and some good, deep, manly conversation to go along with your
bourbon. I didn't really want our day to end, and I could feel that he
didn't either.

We talked about our families, and I learned more about him and Big Jim, how
his mom had left when he was young, and the two of them had drawn closer
together. How his being away at college was the first time they'd been
separated this long. How he considered Big Jim his best friend, mentor,
coach and father all in one. It was really touching. I talked about my bond
with Caleb, who was getting particularly tight with me now that he was
coming of age, and he just grinned and nodded and totally got it.

There was a depth to our conversation that's hard to describe, the rest of
the world seeming to fall away, until it was just the two of us – two
men in a plush restaurant booth, growing at ease with each other as we
revealed more and more about ourselves, our families, the connections we
both had. Building a connection to each other as we talked, too. It was
quietly intense, powerful, and sensual in a way that's hard to put a finger
on, exactly. But we understood each other, I could see that, and the more
we talked, the more that unspoken conversation between us grew, too. Our
knees kept touching, at first accidentally, and then with the sort of
unforced, casual closeness men can sometimes have with each other, if they
let themselves. It was the kind of bond I'd had with his dad, big Jim, and
the kind of bond I had with my boy, too. The deeper our conversation
flowed, the more we connected, and the stronger I started to feel about
this handsome, talented young man in front of me. A strongly paternal
feeling, to be sure, and a powerfully erotic one, too.

We were both surprised to see it was almost 4, and when he got up to go use
the restroom, those flat-front pants of his couldn't hide the solid semi he
was sporting. I guess our conversation had impacted him the same way it was
doing to me, and that was incredibly gratifying. Another sign of our
intense connection. He blushed a little, bowed over a bit just to kind of
try to hide it, but I just grinned and gave him a wink and a nod, man to
man. Watched his big, round, muscular ass as he walked to the head, and I
signaled for the check.

"You got plans for the rest of the day, bud?" I asked when we got outside,
waiting for the Uber to show up.

"No sir," he said. "I don't know so many people in town, and technically
I'm not old enough to go hit the bars or anything, so..."

"Well, Caleb's got a game this evening. If it doesn't sound too boring, why
don't you ride out to suburbia with me? All this bragging I've been doing
about what a stud on the field the kid is, maybe I need you to give me a
reality check on all my proud-dad bullshit," I said with a chuckle.

Kieran laughed, and waved that off.

"It's been awhile since I went to a Friday-night game, not since I was
playing myself," he said, grinning. "I'd like that. But if it's alright
with you, and we've got time, I'd like to swing by my place and get out of
these work clothes..."

He'd rented a little furnished studio apartment for his internship – and
real cheaply, he said, thanks to another SigEp connection - so we Ubered
over there. The kid was adorably nervous all of a sudden, him and me in the
little corridor as he fumbled out his keys to open the front door. You know
that feeling, right? Almost like the next step on a really good
date. Entering the unknown. But excited to go there, and see what would
happen.

He apologized for the state of the place, but it was totally squared
away. Not much bigger than a dorm room, honestly, and definitely neater
than most dorm rooms I've been in. Just a queen-size bed with the covers
tossed back, a faint young man's musk around it, a TV and a love seat. He
stepped into the little walk-in closet, pulled out a pair of jeans and a
T-shirt, and said he'd be changed in just a minute. And then left the
bathroom door half-open as he undressed, leaving me a clear view of him as
he stripped down.

Damn. Nothing like a wrestler's ass. Especially encased in light grey Under
Armour trunks, flexing as he stripped his trousers off his thick, muscular
legs, the tanned muscles of his back bulging beautifully, flaring up from
his tight waist into a wide V. When he bent over to pull his jeans up,
those tin, muscular globes of his flexing inside of his shorts, I had to
stifle an impressed, lusty grunt. It was a shame pulled the jeans up to
cover his long, powerful quads and that stellar jock's ass, but they fitted
him supremely well, encasing his ass in faded denim, riding low on his
waist, just enough room in the thighs for him to move, while still showing
off the thick power of his wrestler's quads. His chest was mostly smooth,
the skin stretched tight across plates of prime young stud muscle, a trace
of reddish-brown fur on his muscular, defined stomach flowing up to a neat
little fur patch between the big, handsome plates of his pecs. I saw his
abs ripple as he rolled the T-shirt down, and it fit just perfectly too,
skimming his big chest and strong mid-section, the sleeves capped and
short, highlighting his brawny shoulders and his big, chunky grappler's
arms.

He was incredible – both the spitting image of his father, who'd been
one of the hottest guys in our frat, if not our whole school, and a perfect
physical specimen in his own right. Like he'd taken the impressive building
blocks of Big Jim's genes, and improved them even further. Jim O'Malley was
an incredibly lucky man. No wonder he was so proud of the kid.

I tried not to ogle him too much as I stood there, but he looked up, and
caught me looking at him. We both blushed, but he smiled at me and nodded,
then stepped half out of sight to take another leak, a long, hard stream of
piss hitting the water like guys with a truly big dick seem to do.

I looked around a little. Saw the drawer of his bedside table part-open,
and I swear I wasn't snooping, but I could see the edge of a framed picture
in the drawer. I'm not proud of this, but I eased the drawer open, and
there it was - a pic of him and Big Jim. I have no idea who took it, but it
was unmistakably intimate. Kieran was leaned back in a hammock, shirtless,
and Big Jim was reclined against the kid's chest, shirtless too, still
impressively powerfully built, just a little middle-aged thickness rounding
out his muscles, like I had now. Usually you'd expect to see the son leaned
back against the father, like that pic I keep of me and Caleb, but this was
the perfect reverse. Jim's arms were resting along his son's thick thighs,
Kieran's forearms draped over his father's shoulders, hands resting on his
hairy pecs. They were both looking off at something, and it was just a
purely almost romantic photo. I'd love to know who captured that moment,
because that pic said everything about their bond.

I stepped away and took the occasion to text my son. Suddenly I was
thinking about him, and us, very strongly.

>See you at the game, sport.  >>Great Dad. I'm pumped for it. OK if I sleep
over at Tyler's tonight? ;-P >If your mother's OK with it, of course.

Tyler was a teammate and Caleb's best friend. He'd confessed to me that he
and Tyler had fooled around a bit lately - nothing major, just some light
kissing and mutual stroking, typical teenage boy stuff, but Caleb wanted to
take it to the next level. My young man had a crazy sex drive, and I was
pleased to see him explore his sexuality beyond the bond we had. He
frequently told him that our physical, sexual bond had opened something up
inside of him that he wanted to explore more. I remembered how that was,
and I encouraged him to do so, carefully and responsibly. As much as I
loved him and loved the sex and the way it had deepened and intensified the
bond between us, I wanted to make sure the incest thing wouldn't sidetrack
him or close off his options.

I decided whether I should send a follow-up text to let him know Kieran was
coming too. Caleb was always encouraging me to feel free to fuck other men,
but I never had, since we'd started exploring together. I'd been faithful
to my wife, even when she wasn't being faithful to me, and until Caleb had
come to me and we'd crossed that line together, I'd thought the man-sex
thing was something in my college past. Something to reminisce about, and
stroke my cock remembering, and idly consider getting back into. But
between work and Caleb, I told myself that what I had with my boy was
enough man for me. It was already physical and intense and as exciting as
anything I'd ever experienced. What more did I need, right now?

Kieran was making me reconsider that. I still wasn't entirely sure what was
going on between us - maybe some harmless flirtation, maybe more. I was
trying to suss out the relationship the O'Malleys had and was starting to
pick up some real solid vibes that my gut instinct was right. But you never
know. If Kieran was just indulging a daddy fantasy through double entendre,
he wouldn't be the first guy his age to do it.

Despite my son's frequent encouragement to explore, I couldn't escape the
feeling I was almost cheating on Caleb and our special bond. But this –
Kieran – was a special circumstance. I thought about it for a moment,
then texted back.

>You know how you're always telling me I should try new restaurants? It may
happen tonight...

That was our code word for play, to keep from being incriminating.

I got an instant reply.

>>Awesome Dad. Go for it! Have a good meal ;)

I heard the john flush, and I guiltily stashed away my phone. I blushed
three shades of red when Kieran reappeared, coming into the room looking
like pure frat stud perfection. That T-shirt sized just right, well-worn
and washed and perfect, with "Montvale Wrestling" lettered across his big
pecs. Those jeans showcasing a big swell of cockbulge. And then he slipped
on a SigEp ballcap, the brim rolled and frayed perfectly, unlike the whole
flat-billed thing young guys incorrectly seemed to think was cool lately. I
could've fucked him right there and then. He'd perfectly transitioned from
young business bro to frat jock stud god, seamlessly.

"Damn, buddy," I said - those few drinks under my belt had me a little
loose, you know how it is. "Looking good, son."

His eyes kind of flashed at my use of the word 'son', and I could swear I
saw that bulge of his shift. Felt my own firming up too. Then he smiled
real big at me from below that ballcap brim.

"You too... sir," he said almost shyly, and I was getting the strong
feeling I was going to fuck young Kieran O'Malley before the day was
done. Call it intuition, call it experience – call it the memory of how
Big Jim O'Malley had looked right before the first time we'd tangled naked
together. Kieran O'Malley was the spitting image of his father in that
moment right now.

But I didn't want to get ahead of myself. I wanted to take the time to let
this play out, and see where it led us. For now, we headed out the door to
go catch Caleb's game.

*****

So, me and O'Malley took a train out to the suburbs, and by some miracle
found an Uber to take us to the game. I guess I could've driven, my car was
at the station, but we'd had quite a few drinks over lunch, and I didn't
want to risk anything. Kieran fit right in with all the big brother types
at the game, and in fact the dad of one of Caleb's teammates pretty much
assumed Kieran was my eldest, home from college.

"Hey, it's great to see you could make it up for your little brother's
game," the guy said to Kieran, before turning to me. "Your son's been a
real credit to the program, Jacobs."

I was on the verge of correcting him, reminding him that Caleb was an only
child. But my gut instinct spoke up again, and before I knew I was doing
it, I just grinned and went with it. Slipped my arm around Kieran's thick
neck like a proud father.

"Yeah, I'm damn proud of my guys," I said. "Wish I could take more of the
credit, but all I had to do was step back and let them become the fine men
they are."

Kieran looked at me with this big, almost playful grin, eyes twinkling as
he joined me in the game.

"Thanks, Dad," he said with a son's modesty. "But we owe it all to you, me
and Caleb."

I looked at him, big and handsome and grinning genuinely, like he really
was my son, like we had that special kind of history between us. Let me
tell you, I nearly threw a full-blown hardon right then and there.

I made small talk with the guy – I honestly had no idea who he was, my
ex was more involved in the school-social side of things – and then me
and Kieran made our way to the stands and found seats.

"Sorry, bud," I said, leaning in to talk low in his ear so we wouldn't be
overheard. "I don't know why I went with it like that. Didn't mean to
embarrass you, big guy."

"Hell, it's kind of fun," he said with a chuckle, giving me that
twinkling-eyed smile of his. "I don't mind at all... Dad."

He locked eyes with me, and spread his legs a little, brushing his knee up
against mine, the denim stretching tight on his thick wrestler jock
thighs... and I'll be damned if he wasn't throwing wood. He saw me shoot my
eyes down at it, then back to him, and he still had that grin, that look in
his eyes. Playful. Interested. Game for anything.

"Your Dad's a damn lucky man, bud," I said to him. Testing those waters,
going in further.

He leaned in a little, rested his hand on my thigh just real casually - and
yet not, you know what I mean?

"So is your son, sir," he said. "Very lucky... Dad."

That did it. I was fully boned. That quiet intensity that had been humming
between us all afternoon, running beneath our conversation, seemed to surge
up in the air between us, almost a physical presence. As physical as the
gentle, but firm press of his thick young thigh against mine. As real as
the hardness of our cocks, straining at our pants as we dipped deeper into
the current of this intense vibe between us. He flicked his eyes down at
the crotch of my khakis - same ones I'd worn to the office - and he saw
it. I felt his hand squeeze my thigh a little, then move off it. I was
disappointed, of course, but we were in public. Had a certain image to
maintain. And somehow, the subtle tease of it felt perfectly pitched to the
pace of our growing bond. Like folding over the corner of the page in a
book, something to come back to later. I swallowed hard and made myself
break our intense gaze, looking toward the field as the game stirred to
life.

The game was a good one, and Caleb really played his heart out. His best
buddy Tyler – his potential fuckbuddy, I reminded myself, and felt a
sense of lusty paternal pride in my strong, sexy kid - played at fullback,
and together they really kicked some ass, working as a unit within the
greater whole of the team. It was beautiful to watch, honestly. Come the
end of the game, Caleb came over to the sidelines, where I was leaning on
the fence waiting, O'Malley hanging back a little, deferentially. Damn, my
boy was a sight to see, his blond hair pasted to his forehead with game
sweat, handsome face lit up with a smile as he saw me, his uniform hugging
tight to his athletic, on-the-verge-of-manhood young jock's body. I felt a
surge of love, pride, and lust for my boy, and for the thousandth time
since we'd become intimate, I thought to myself that I was the luckiest son
of a bitch on the whole planet.

"Hell of a game, big man," I told my boy, and the smile that lit up his
face just made me love him even harder. I grasped his hand in a firm
handshake and clapped him on the shoulder, enjoying the quiet intensity of
the quick, silent moment between us, and then saw him look over his
shoulder to Kieran.

"Hey, I'm Kieran O'Malley, I work with your Dad," Kieran said, offering his
hand to shake Caleb's. "You killed it out there, buddy. Your Dad talks
about you all the time, and now I see why."

I let them chat for a minute, watching their easy, immediate friendly bond,
two handsome young men entering the prime of their manhood just a few years
apart. They seemed to take to each other almost instantly, and I felt that
kind of paternal pride swell up even more strongly – pride in both of
them. Then Kieran smiled at me and stepped away, giving me and my boy a
minute on our own.

"Damn, Dad," Caleb said quietly, with that subtle, lusty edge he got in his
voice with me lately when we were talking, just the two of us, man to
man. "That dude's a freakin' stud. Nice work, big guy!"

I laughed real deep. Part of being tight-bonded with my boy like we were
now was seeing him open up like that, being able to talk about guys
physically with me, free to be hoenst and open and sexual, like a man. It
was hot as fuck, having that common interest, that bond, that
understanding, that freedom to be men together like that – just
incredible.

"You heading to Tyler's, bud?" I asked. He nodded, gave me that knowing,
sexy grin. I'd always figured my kid would grow up to be a real
heartbreaker, and that was certainly coming true. He was definitely ready
to explore a little, outside our bond, and I was absolutely behind him on
that. "Well just be careful, and be respectful, OK son? Don't sacrifice
your friendship just to get your load, alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, I won't, Dad," he said, rolling his eyes, but I knew he got
it. "You heading home, or...?"

He flicked his eyes at O'Malley, who was checking his phone a respectful
distance away, and gave me a knowing grin.

"We'll see what the evening brings, huh kiddo," I chuckled with a wink, and
mussed his sweaty blond hair. "Text me, and try to check in with your
mother. We'll talk tomorrow. Love you, big guy."

"Love you too, Dad. I mean it," he said, and I wanted to lay a deep, wet
kiss on him right there. Knew he did too. But we had to settle for a deep,
tight hug, before we headed our separate ways.

O'Malley slipped his phone back into his pocket and smiled at me as I
approached.

"Getting your plans for the night lined up, bud?" I asked.

"Nah, no plans," he said. "Checking the train schedule. I figure you
probably want to head home, so I'll hop a train back into town..."

"Well, as it happens, I was gonna overnight in the city tonight," I
said. "Been awhile since I had the night off, you know? Caleb's with his
mother this weekend, so I'm left to my own devices."

"Well in that case..." he said, giving me that grin. "Let's get another
Uber."

We wound our way back into the city, and decided along the way to hit a bar
for a couple of beers, keep the loose, pleasant vibe going. He said he
usually had a fake ID with him, but he'd left it back at the frat house by
mistake, and hadn't gotten around to getting it sent to him yet. Looking
the way he did, he could've passed for a guy in his mid-20s, especially
with that reddish beyond-five o'clock shadow setting in on his handsome
mug, so I figured we'd be OK if we didn't try to hit one of the more
popular places, which suited me just fine. So we hit up a little lounge I
knew, low-key and a more mature clientele, less of the post-work bro crowd
- I mean, they're fun to look at, but they get on your nerves the drunker
they get, you know?

I could feel the vibe between us even stronger, since that father at the
game had mistaken Kieran for my son, and especially since the way Kieran
had playfully called me "Dad", pressed his thigh to mine, and let me see
the sizeable bulge in his jeans. I wanted to play that scene again. As if
it wasn't already pretty electric between us, it was even better now, and
somehow the conversation over our beers wound up at family again, fathers
and sons, only even more layered with meaning now. Deeper.

"One more, buddy?" I said, lifting my empty glass, a nice beer buzz
starting to settle in, now that the post-lunch bourbon buzz had mellowed.

He laughed, and patted his spectacularly muscled midsection ruefully.

"OK, but something light," he said. "I gotta watch myself, or Coach will
kill me if I put too many pounds on before the season starts."

"I wouldn't worry about that," I said. "You look good, bud. Real damn
good."

He grinned at me, gave me a slow once-over.

"So do you, sir," he said. "So do you."

"Another of these for me, and a Mic Ultra for my son here," I said to the
bartender, and I swear I heard O'Malley let out a little grunt when I
did. I definitely felt his knee graze along mine, and stay there.

"Can I ask you a question?" he asked a little later, at a lull in our easy
conversation, as we were about done with the beers.

"Of course," I said. "Anything."

"What's your stance on... legalized pot?" he asked, and I could practically
feel the nerves under his outwardly cool expression. In the low light of
the bar, I could just about see him blushing. I smiled. I knew how bold of
him it was to ask me that question. But we'd left the whole boss-intern
thing behind awhile back, seemed to me. We were in a different space
together now.

"My stance is," I said, leaning in so he could hear me over the music the
bartender had turned up not long before, "it's about fucking time."

He grinned real big at that.

"Then maybe after this..." he began.

"Lead the way, buddy," I chuckled, draining my glass, pulling out my credit
card and setting it on the bar. "Lead the way."

*****

Trust a SigEp brother to have the best weed connection, wherever he
goes. Or maybe he brought it from home with him, but either way, there we
were, an hour later, me relaxing on the little love seat in his studio
apartment, watching him pack a bowl in the tiny little kitchenette. He'd
kicked off his sneakers and socks as soon as we got in the door, but
otherwise was still fully dressed, including the ballcap, and he still
looked like a million bucks. Me, I still had on the clothes I'd put on at
6am to head into work. I'd left my overnight bag in my office, planning on
checking into the Hyatt down the block for my little Friday night break in
the city, but Kieran insisted we pick it up before heading back to his
place.

He came back in, handed me the bowl and a lighter with a slightly sheepish
grin, and then watched with a little amusement as his boss took a deep hit
on it. I don't smoke often – I kind of get off on being a respectable
middle-aged business dude who enjoys a toke, though, and this was damn fine
shit, even better than some of the stuff my solid weed connection turns up
for me. I could already feel the pleasant fog settling in as I leaned back
on the sofa and exhaled, watching him take and spark the bowl himself. He
sat down on the side of his bed, adjacent to the sofa, but his place was so
small, I could reach over and touch his knee, if I sat up and leaned into
it a little. I filed that thought away for future reference and just
watched him.

We passed the bowl back and forth until it was cashed, and then he leaned
back, eyes already slitty, a blissful grin on his face. Leaned back on his
hands like that, his powerful arms really bulged thick, and his T-shirt
looked like it was melting onto the big, defined muscles of his pecs, abs
and shoulders. I kicked my feet up on the coffee table and let my own high
sink in.

"Damn, that's some nice shit, O'Malley," I said.

"Thank you, sir," he grinned. "I don't smoke a whole bunch, but on a quiet
Friday night..."

"I hear you, man, I hear you," I smiled. "And look, enough with the 'sir'
thing, OK? We're both SigEp men, and we're not in the office now. You can
call me AJ."

He gave me a long, smiling look.

"Maybe, sir... uh, AJ," he said. "Sorry, it's hard to fight the manners Dad
brought me up with. Even with a brother."

"I get you, it's cool," I said. "Your Dad's done a damn fine job with you,
buddy, if you don't mind me saying. I bet he's justifiably proud of you,
big guy."

"Thank you... AJ," he said with a slightly shy smile, looking at the
floor. "I'm proud to be like him. And I can say the same for your son
Caleb. Looks like he's turning into a fine man... like his father."

We exchanged another long, deep look. We were tiptoeing around the major
taboo subject, and I couldn't help but notice it was Kieran now who seemed
to be testing me as much as I was him.

"He is, and thank you," I said, trying to rise to the bait. "We've become
very... close these past few years, and it's been good for us. Very good."

"I can see that," he said. "Fathers and sons should be close. Since Mom
left and me and Dad got to be... where we are, it really changed my life. I
credit him with everything I am. I can see that kind of closeness between
you and Caleb. And I hear it when you talk about him. It's very inspiring
to see other families that are like mine. Men like me and Dad."

He looked up at me from under the brim of his ballcap, our eyes meeting,
and that electricity was an almost physical presence between us again. What
he was saying felt – not like a challenge, exactly. Maybe an invitation
to go deeper. I kept my gaze on his, giving him a slow, thoughtful, lightly
stoned smile that he returned. Just a gleam of white teeth between his
full, sensuous lips.

"Are we talking about the same thing, buddy?" I asked. Gutsy thing to say,
but fuck - it just felt like we were on the cusp here, like we were talking
along parallel lines that were just about to converge, at last.

He grinned at me. Another long, heavy oment passed between us before he
spoke up. "What were we talking about? I'm pretty fucking baked."

It was the out he was giving me, maybe giving himself. There was an awkward
silence as we sat there, feeling the effect of the pot. I wanted to keep
pushing the conversation more, and I got the sense Kieran did, too. But
ultimately, I guess we were both too chicken. I was a little disappointed
in myself for not being a little ballsier, getting us over that hill. But
hell, here I was, pleasantly stoned with a hot young dude on a Friday
evening, no place else in particular to be. I resolved to try and just
enjoy the moment, and not force anything. Just let whatever was gonna
happen, happen organically.

He got up to pack the bowl again, and this time, sat down next to me on the
sofa to offer it to me. I smiled at him, took the piece, hit it, then
passed it back to him, casually slipping my arm along the back of the sofa
behind him. It was a bold move, one that could have landed me in the HR
office come Monday morning. But Kieran smiled at me, took his hit, then
slowly exhaled. I felt the smoke cloud around me, and opened my mouth to
inhale some of his exhalation. Something I used to do with his dad, back in
the day. His eyes widened a little at that, his handsome mouth spreading in
an interested grin.

I could see him working up his courage.

"You know... I don't know that calling you 'AJ' feels right," he croaked,
watching me hit the piece again. "To be honest... I kind of liked how it
was earlier... at the game... and then at the bar..."

He blushed, giving me that almost-shy look from under the brim of his
ballcap. I blew out the smoke, watching his nostrils flare and his lips
part subtly to take some of it in. Felt my cock tweak at the sight of him
mirroring me like that. Just like Big Jim had done, back in his room at the
fraternity house twenty-some years ago. The similarity between them, the
memories of everything me and his dad had done together, the steadily
building vibe between me and the big young stud all day today... it was
electric.

"I liked that too... son," I said, and watched his cheeks flush a little
more as he bit his lip a little. Cutest thing I ever saw. I passed him the
bowl, and as he lit it up, I leaned in closer, squeezed his big, powerful
thigh, and murmured in his ear.

"I'm going to be forward with you, O'Malley," I said in a deep, husky
voice. "We've gotten to know each other real well today, so I'll ask
straight up, and you can tell me to go fuck myself if I'm out of line, and
there'll be no hard feelings. No repercussions. We're not boss and intern
here, haven't been since we left the office this afternoon. We're friends,
right?"

He nodded at me, eyes widening as he held the smoke, waiting for me to
continue. My other hand reached up to graze the red-brown bristles on the
back of his thick neck, and I felt him shiver lightly all over. I let a
moment pass, eyes locked, giving the back of his neck a friendly, paternal
squeeze. Felt him push his big, muscular young thigh a little more into
mine.

"Are you... a dad's boy, son?" I asked.

He whimpered deep in his chest, staring hard at me, and when he exhaled the
smoke in a rush, I leaned forward a little, mouth open, to catch it. He
looked like he didn't know what to say at first. Just stared at me.

"Yes," he said almost softly, his voice firming as he straightened his
shoulders, puffed up his big chest, and looked me square in the eye, like a
man. "Yeah. I am. I love my Dad."

I was boned as fuck hearing him answer that way. And it was like he wanted
to say more. I was going to encourage him, too.  "Attaboy, son," I smiled,
giving his neck another deep, paternal squeeze, like my own boy
enjoyed. "You're a good man. A good son."

"I try to be," he said softly, "For him."

"Yeah?" I said. "You wanna please your dad?"

"Yessir. God, I miss him so fucking much, you know?" It was the first time
I'd heard this clean-cut wrestler curse all evening, and it made his
statement that much more impassioned.

"He misses you, too, bud. I bet he's real lonely right now. I bet he'd pay
anything to trade places with me at the moment."

Kieran gulped, and gave me a direct look.

"You know, don't you AJ? You know about me and my Dad, what we do. Who we
are."

"And who are you, Kieran? You and your Dad?" I said, quietly,
encouragingly. He flushed bright red, but didn't break my gaze, I could see
the pride and determination inside of him, struggling to break free and
proclaim the truth of them.

"We're... we're lovers, AJ," he said, almost forcing it out. But saying it
almost seemed like a weight lifted from his big, young shoulders. "Me and
my Dad. Have been for years. And I think you know that, don't you?"

I looked at him for a moment, then slowly nodded.

"Only because my son and I... me and Caleb... we're the same way, son," I
admitted. "Just like you and your Dad – that's me and my son, too."

Then I finally crossed the bridge, the one we'd been dancing ever closer
towards all afternoon and evening. I leaned in and kissed him, and he
melted into me with a husky little grunt. Lips parting, all funky and
smoky, receiving my tongue, engaging with it, feeding me his own. Finally
sharing our secret had opened the floodgates and turned us on even more.  I
ran my hand up the thickness of his inner thigh, found the log of his hard
jock frat cock, and gave it a deep, slow squeeze along its length, making
him moan into my mouth. The kid could kiss, and if I wasn't hard before,
well, I sure as hell was now. Especially when his big hand trailed up my
own inner thigh, found the hard bulge of my cock in my trousers, and he
moaned into my mouth again.

We kept at it for a solid ten minutes, kissing deep, wet, luxuriating in
the sensation of an intense, skilled mankiss. Not just a kiss between men,
but a kiss between men who really understood each other. Understood what we
wanted. Understood who we were. Finally arriving at the place we'd been
slowly making our way towards all day long.

"Fuck... shit, AJ," he growled when we parted. His eyes were fiery, lusty,
determined. A mix of the hard-charging wrestler jock he was on the mats,
and the lusty young fuck stud he no doubt was in bed. Particularly with his
Dad. I felt an intense pang of jealousy for Big Jim O'Malley in the moment.

"Where were you gonna stay tonight?" he said, wiping the spit from his
lips.

"Hyatt," I grunted. "We got a deal with them. Why?"

"The hell with that," he said. "You don't have to go anywhere if you don't
want to, sir."

I grinned at him, ran my hand up his thigh, cupped his hard young bulge
again, giving it a firm, appreciative squeeze.

"What did I say about calling me 'sir', buddy?" I said.

"You can stay here with me tonight, if you want... Dad," he grinned, eyes
sparking at the word, reaching over to run his own hand up my thigh, to the
big, hard bulge of my paternal cock. "And you can call me 'buddy' all you
want... but I think there's something you'd rather call me, isn't there?"

"You're god damn right there is... Son," I growled, and then he pounced on
me again with a hungry noise, shoving me back deeper into the little love
seat with his thick, honed wrestler jock bulk as he heatedly kissed me
again.

I wrapped my arms round his muscled torso, my hands finding their way down
to the big mounds of his rock-hard ass crammed into those well-worn Levis
he had on, feeling the twin globes shift deeper into my grasp as he ground
his ferociously hard young cock against mine, just like his tongue was
grinding against mine inside my mouth. There was a lot of him on top of me,
and only so much space on the little love seat, and even though my back was
starting to twinge and my neck was craned at a hard angle, it was hard to
give this all up. Already I was leaking like crazy into my underwear. But I
needed more. We both did.

"Fuck!" I grunted as I pulled back from him a little. "We really gonna do
this, buddy? Son?"

"Fuck yeah we are... Dad," he grinned, and came in for another quick,
intense tongue-battle. "That is, if you want to... if this isn't weird..."

"O'Malley, I've wanted this fine ass of yours... and the rest of
you... since the first day you turned up in the office," I said, squeezing
the bulk of his big shoulders, giving him a serious look. "But I respect
you above and beyond that. You tell me to go, and I'll go. We'll go back to
work on Monday, and it'll be like this never happened. No harm, no
foul. You've got my word on that."

I pulled his handsome head in for another kiss, loving how eagerly he met
my tongue with his.

"But if you tell me to stay," I half-panted when I pulled back from his
entrancing lips, "I'm going to fuck you into next week, son."

"Fuck, Dad," he growled. "I wanted you ever since I saw the way your cock
bulged in that suit. Since I saw you eyeing me up. I won't feel guilty
about a damn thing we do, and I'll still have that presentation finished
and on your desk, 8am Monday."

His big hand cupped the back of my head firmly, the other reaching down to
give the bulge of my cock a firm, yet gentle squeeze along its length,
making me grunt with desire. He stared deep into my eyes with a real, fiery
intensity.

"But tonight... and maybe tomorrow... you and me, boss... we're family. And
in my family... in yours too, I bet... that means we get naked, and we get
inside each other, and we make each other cum. You up for that, Dad?"

I stared at him, hard, both of us panting, flush-faced.

"Get your fucking clothes off, son," I growled, yanking at his belt.

"Yes sir... yes Dad," he grinned, scrambling up off me and tugging at his
T-shirt, exposing his thick-cut abs, the line of reddish-brown fur
bisecting his stomach, crawling up into a nice neat thatch between the
creamy skin of his big, thick pecs. With a hungry growl of my own, I
grabbed hold of his torso and latched my lips onto one of his big, stiff
pink nips, hearing him moan, feeling his hand cup the back of my head,
urging me on deeper, as I started to chew and suckle on the thick flesh. I
had to have him, all of him, right now, so working together, we got his
belt undone, his jeans skinning down his big wrestler legs, showing off the
huge tent of his jock cock angled across his hip, staining the fabric of
his UA trunks where he was steadily leaking precum. I manhandled his bulge,
palming the wet spot at the head as he tugged his t-shirt the rest of the
way off... and then set his ballcap back on his head, turned backwards. It
was the perfect touch, and I kissed him hard, growling happily, to show him
my appreciation, as his thick fingers undid my shirt buttons and pushed it
off my shoulders.

It took a few seconds to yank my undershirt and my trousers off, and then
it was his turn to attack my body, massaging and exploring the thick,
powerful swells of my ex-receiver's beef. I was glad I'd kept in shape for
my adventures with my own boy Caleb, who loved to get up close to his Dad's
thickness, to see how he was going to look twenty years down the
line. Still had plenty of the old, steely muscle beneath the swell of my
middle-aged beef. I flashed back on an image of Big Jim O'Malley, how well
he'd beefed up from his college-wrestler days, and I knew young Kieran here
liked his ex-jocks, liked his big, thick men. As his fingers raked through
the thick blond-brown fur on my stomach and chest, his lips latching onto
my nip, I could tell he was real pleased with me too.

I pulled his handsome face up to kiss some more, feeling our five o'clock
shadows rasp as we went deep, big hands pawing and squeezing each other's
asses, pulling our leaking bulges into even deeper, harder contact as we
ground up against each other. We were working our way backwards, towards
the bed, and as the backs of Kieran's thighs hit the edge of the mattress,
he planted his palms on my pecs to stop me.

"No matter what else we do tonight - and believe me, I am very game," he
panted, "you gotta know this. My Dad... he's a bottom. Like, exclusively,
pretty much. So there's one thing I've always craved, and never really
had..."

"Your Daddy fucking you, right, son?" I murmured, stroking the side of his
face, and the way he wrinkled his brow and nodded, his eyes going a little
soft, seeing how well I understood him and his needs, told me just how much
he needed that. How he'd been denied for a long time.

"Tonight, buddy," I half-whispered, letting my lips graze his. "Dad's gonna
take your cherry, big guy. Make my boy a man."

He whimpered, and kissed me hard, and though I doubt he was cherry back
there physically - an ass like that is just too damn good for most men to
resist, and knowing Big Jim O'Malley as well as I did, he might have been a
natural-born bottom, but he could throw one hell of a lusty assfucking too
- it was a whole different story mentally, emotionally for him. A father
knows these things, and even though we weren't blood, in this moment, we
were very much family.

"Why don't you get Daddy wet, son?" I asked, pushing down on his broad
shoulders, and he sank to his knees, looking up at me with an awestruck mix
of worship and respect, before slowly kissing the length of my
cockbulge. When he reached the head, where the fabric of my boxer briefs
was soaked with the continuous bubbling flow of precum I was streaming, he
encased the whole tip between his lips and suckled with a soft little grunt
that had me moaning.

Big Jim O'Malley had taught his boy well, taught him how to handle a man's
cock with the right mix of respect, hunger and attentiveness, and Kieran
showed me just how close he and his Dad were as he hauled my seven inches
out, his eyes excited and appreciative and hungry as he stroked it. Then he
wrapped his lips around the head and steadily, relentlessly swallowed me to
the root.

Jesus christ. My boy Caleb had some serious, natural talent with this –
like father, like son, I guess... - and when he'd finally mastered the art
of opening his throat to really swallow my thickness, I don't know who was
prouder, him or me. But Kieran here, hell - he was a master craftsman of
swallowing cock. All I could do was grab the edge of his headboard with one
hand, the back of his ballcapped head with the other, and hang on as the
big auburn-haired wrestler jock took me on possibly the greatest ride I'd
ever been on.

Kieran looked up at me with those big blue eyes of his, full of fire and
lust and determination, as he worked on me. He had one hand wrapped round
the base of my cock – not because he couldn't take it hands-free, but to
keep it held at the perfect angle so he could really show me what he was
doing, as he wrapped his tongue around the underside of the top half of my
cock, lashing it slowly and lovingly, before sinking his full lips slowly
down the girth of me.

"Fuck yeah, son," I growled, giving the back of his ballcapped head a slow,
encouraging rub, feeling nearly as proud of him as I did my own hot son
when he did this for me. Calling him that sparked Kieran even further,
making him moan around me, sending vibrations all through the core of my
dad cock, down to my balls, resonating through my prostate and my loins.

His hardworking tongue was like a fat, slick sheath of velvet on my glans,
pulling the precum out of me as he did his damnedest to wrap his tongue
around the entirety of my head and furiously work it over. His hand slipped
down to cup my big, full dad balls, working them over slowly, carefully,
treating them like he'd treat his own. I pictured him giving Big Jim, his
own father, the royal treatment like this, and that got my cum-makers
churning even harder. Now that his hand was off the base of my shaft, his
lips were free to sink all the way down into the dark-blond thickness of my
bush that grew around the fat base of my cock. I could feel his spit
trickling into it, over my balls, and I just luxuriated in the rare treat
of a truly sloppy suckjob from a very hot, talented and willing young jock
stud. It definitely took me back to my days in SigEp, and I got a sudden
dose of déjà vu, remembering how Big Jim O'Malley loved to work our
cocks over just like this. Like father, like son, I thought again with a
smile.

Usually it can take a good while to get me off with head, no matter how
good the dude is, but within five minutes, I could feel my big balls
roiling, my thighs trembling, that tell-tale glow deep in the pit of my
belly warning me of an impending orgasm - and a damn serious one, too. So I
reluctantly pulled the handsome young stud's bobbing head off my cock - the
sight of his spit strands stretching from my cockhead to his full lips made
my dick throb even harder, visibly bobbing in the air between us - and
pulled him up to kiss him, tasting the salty musk of my cock on his tongue,
in his spit as he hungrily fed it to me, growling in the back of his throat
as we traded thick spit back and forth. My hands slid inside the sides of
his UAs, exploring the deep-dimpled contours of that prize-winning
grappler's ass, loving how he flexed his powerhouse glutes for my
appreciation and kissed me with even more fervor as I manhandled his prime
jock butt. Slowly I worked the trunks down the thickness of his thighs, big
and creamy from mid-thigh up, tanned brown below, and then he was naked
except for his SigEp ballcap and an eager, expectant smile.

He moved with me as I turned him around, pressed between his muscled
shoulders and pushed him face-down on the bed, that blue-ribbon ass rising
up to meet me, flexing, shifting and dimpling beautifully enough to make me
grunt with lust as I fell to my knees before it. I started to lick and kiss
my way over the muscled swells, parting his cheeks to the lightly
red-furred valley between them, sinking my face steadily deeper into the
creamy firmness of his ass, loving how he moaned and grunted and pressed
his epic glutes even more against my face. Loving the scent of him, all
man, deep and musky, growing more intense as I licked at his pucker,
feeling it twitching against the onslaught of my tongue. A taste I knew
well from my own boy Caleb, from my own frat-days adventures. A flavor I'd
loved ever since my first taste of it back in high school, chowing down on
our studly young assistant coach's muscular tail.

"Oh shit, Dad..." Kieran moaned, bucking his muscled ass even more against
my face, and then I pushed harder with my tongue and I was inside of him.

I don't know if Big Jim O'Malley ever ate his boy out like he deserved, but
I gave him the best rimjob I think I've ever given, and I've given more
than my fair share. My spit was dripping down my chin, onto the carpet, my
fingers sinking into the creamy mounds of his ass as I spread him wider,
his rich, tart musk flooding my mouth as I buried as much of my tongue as I
could get up inside of him. I could've done it all night, until his big
hand grasped the back of my head.

"You gotta fuck me now, man," he moaned as I came up, gasping for
air. "Fuck me now, Dad. Fuck your boy. Fuck me with the cock you made me
with, big guy."

I couldn't help but growl at that. Caleb was just beginning to really get
the power of deep dirty talk, and Kieran could've taught him a thing or two
about how to get his Dad wound the fuck up, for sure. I flashed on a mental
image of big Kieran and young Caleb, naked and side by side at my feet,
Kieran imparting his sexual wisdom to my eager stud son like a big brother
would. Damn, that set my cock to twitching even more, as if it needed any
help...

"You got a rubber?" I panted, standing up and slowly fisting my
precum-slick cock.

His eyes met mine as he shook his head.

"There's nobody else," he said. "Not like this. Not for a couple years
now. Just me and Dad. You?"

"Like this? No... just me and my boy. And he only plays bare with me."

"Then do it, AJ... do it, Dad," he said, and the need in his eyes was
powerful and palpable. The same kind of need I'd seen in my own son's eyes
when he'd begged me to fuck him, the night I finally gave in and took his
jock kid cherry. "I trust you. Just please... fuck me, Dad."

I yanked the bedside table drawer open, and there, right beside that framed
pic of him and his father was his lube. Of course, I thought, smiling, as I
grabbed the bottle and upended it down the length of my cock, glazing it
with my other hand, before thumbing the excess all over his ring, making
him buck and moan and press back again. I pushed the thickness of my
lube-slicked thumb up against his auburn-haired ring, loving the way he
moaned and the muscles all over his back and arms twitched, as he pushed
back and made my thumb pop inside.

"Oh fuck yeah, son," I growled, loving the nasty, sexy sensation of
thumbing his tight jock hole open, pushing it up deep into him, as far as I
could get it. Slicking him up good. Working it up inside of him as that
sensational ass spread and bucked back, as he sucked me into the hot,
clutching tightness of his core.

I spent a good few minutes, first with my thumb, then my fingers, one, then
two, watching him stretch wider to receive me, probing inside of him,
feeling him loose, seeing his big, perfect muscles tense, then relax as he
opened up for me. And then, I pressed something more substantial than my
thumb to that slicked-up knot of tight jockboy muscle - the glossy, leaking
head of my cock.

"Bear down, buddy," I murmured, running my hand up and down the big,
muscle-swollen expanse of his back soothingly, rubbing the small of his
back in circles like you pet a cat, and pressed the throbbing tip of my
lubed-up dad cock more firmly against him, feeling him start to give, a
little bit at a time.

"You gonna let Daddy inside you, big guy?" I said almost softly as I
stroked his quivering young muscles. "Open up for your old man? Let me put
the cock I made you with inside of you, son?"

The dirty talk helped do the trick, just like I suspected it would. I felt
him push back, bearing down, opening up, letting me push the fat throbbing
flesh of my cockhead into him.

"Ohfuckohshitohfuck," he moaned, but he opened up, he took me in, and even
though I tried to take it slow, soon I was inside him all the way down to
my thick dark-blond bush, pushing in one long, steady thrust that had his
big, beautiful body squirming. I could see his handsome face scrunched up
with the effort and discomfort of it, but he was a tough kid, a warrior, an
athlete, and he pushed through it to get his just reward.

He took me like he was born to this, closing in tight all around me,
wrapping the length of my big dick in pulsing, encasing heat, like velvet
all around my cock. I thought back to the first time I copped my son's
cherry this way, but that just made me want to cum, remembering the
sensation of opening Caleb's beautiful, muscular teen jock ass up with my
daddy dick. So instead, I tried to think about the presentation Kieran was
editing for me, going over it line by line in my head, anything to keep my
mind off the intensity of the sensations, the beauty of his body, the
aching way he moaned out "Ah Daddddd" as I began to fuck him.

Grunts. Moans. The rhythmic slap of my hips against his big, muscled
ass. The wet, squelching sounds of a well-lubed cock reaming out a tight
hole. It all filled the room, surrounding us both. Took me back to those
heady, lusty days back at the SigEp house, burying my college-boy bone up
Kieran's father's equally beautiful wrestler jock tail. Total sense memory.

"Awww yeah Dad, fuck me," Kieran moaned huskily, pulling me back into the
present with him.

The closer I got to the edge, the more I wanted to see his face. See his
eyes when I bred him for the first time - my first time breeding him, and
from the sound of it, maybe the first time anybody had done him this way.

"Want to see you, son," I panted, pulling out until just my head was inside
of him, and with his wrestler's flexibility and agility, he managed to turn
himself over, rotating himself on the head of my cock, making me moan again
as I helped him over. And then there he was, big and beautiful, his creamy
redhead's skin all flushed and sweaty, his cock slicked with his own manly
juices and throbbing hard and red-tipped against his muscled stomach,
staring up at me with lusty, awestruck eyes.

"You gonna breed me up, Dad?" he panted, and all I could do was nod.

"Good," he grinned. "Do me, then. Fuck your cum into me, big guy. Breed
your boy up right."

Damn, I must've done something right in my life, to wind up here, sliding
the full length of my big, bare Dad cock up inside this handsome, epically
built young Ivy League wrestler jock. I leaned over him, pistoning my cock
deep inside of him, and he curled up, abs crunching beautifully, meeting my
panting mouth with his and teasing my tongue out and into his mouth. We
kissed as hard and deep as we could, trading spit and moans and breath, and
when he hooked his muscular calves over my ass and pulled me deeper, I was
a goner.

"Gonna cum, son," I moaned. "You ready, buddy? Ready for Dad's load, kid?"

"Born ready, Dad," he half-wailed, and I set onto the home stretch, fucking
fast and hard and deep, knowing he could take it, that he was built for
this.

Just as I was feeling the unstoppable build, his whole face contorted.

"You gonna cum for Daddy, baby boy?" I moaned, our eyes locking. "Show me,
son... show me the cum my boy makes for his man."

"Oh shit... cumming, Dad!" he yelled, and then his big cock bounced, his
muscles flexed all over, and he began to fire, creamy rockets of thick,
rich jockboy jizz splatting onto his sweat-glowing skin, streaking across
the taut flex of his primed young muscles. His ring tensed around my
thickness as he shot and shot, and that pulled my load up out of my balls,
roaring up the shaft of my cock before jetting up inside of him, and
together we growled and grunted and shook through our orgasms, his hands
gripping the back of my neck, our eyes locked on each other's.

Once the aftershocks of my orgasm had finished ripping through me, I
flopped down on the bed beside him, both of us panting, and then we looked
at each other, grinned, and started to laugh. I slipped my arm under his
neck and curled the big kid into me, half on me, his cum cooling and sticky
against me, nuzzling his sweaty forehead as he stroked my chest and
stomach.

"Jesus, big guy," he chuckled. "Holy shit. That was even better than I
imagined it'd be."

"Right back at ya, buddy... son," I grinned. "Glad I could scratch the
itch."

"I think you just managed to make it worse, Dad," he laughed, then kissed
me, slow and soft. A special postcoital tenderness to it, full of the kind
of intimacy only a father and son truly know.

Eventually, Kieran climbed up off the bed, and damn but he was a beautiful
sight, that big, fresh-fucked ass flexing as he walked into the little
kitchenette to grab a couple beers from the fridge.

"I think we can consider that your interview for a full position after your
internship, buddy," I said as he came back to bed, handing me a beer.

"Well if this is what Fridays in the office are like, sign me the fuck up,"
he laughed, and leaned in to kiss me some more.

"But seriously though, AJ," he said when we parted again, a serious look on
his face. "I don't want you to think any differently of me at work because
of this."

"Buddy, I was already thinking about you like this at work," I grinned.

"You know what I mean," he said, rolling his eyes and play-punching my
arm. "I mean... this should be separate from that. Just like, you
know... you've got your son. I've got my Dad. But we could still have this,
you and me, too... if you wanted it."

Suddenly the big, confident young jock looked awkward, even a little shy,
uncertain. I cupped his big square chin in my hand and pulled him in to
kiss again, slow and tender and full of meaning. Like a father should kiss
his son.

"Any success you have in the office, you've earned on your own merits,
bud," I said. "And yeah, of course I want to explore this more, you and
me. You think after a day like today, the way we've gotten to know each
other before we got to this point, the things we've done - you think that
makes for a one-shot deal? No way, buddy. We've got a connection, son."  He
smiled, kissed me yet again.

"Besides, an ass like this... damn," I chuckled, cupping the hard curve of
it, squeezing the solid, thick muscle. "And I still want to experience this
big jock dick of yours sliding up my tail too, kid."

"Yeah, for real?" he said with an excited grin, and for the thousandth time
today, seeing the top jock son in him showing so clearly and eagerly, I was
jealous as hell of my old friend and fuckbud, Big Jim.

"Of course," I chuckled. "The key to success in business is versatility."

"Oh man," he said, rolling his eyes again. "Look, just because we connect
on a dad-son level, doesn't mean you can bust out the dad jokes, OK?"

I playfully cuffed the back of his head, and yeah, maybe we weren't
biologically bound, but still, I could see that son's adoration in his face
for me. Damn, this had all moved so quickly, happened so suddenly... but it
felt right, too. We really were connected, because we both understood this
thing, how close a father and his son could be, better than just about
anybody else.

"About that," I said, getting serious. "You going to tell your dad about
this?"

Kieran blushed, looked away for a moment, then nodded.

"Sorry, AJ, I tell him everything. I'd feel like a real heel if I kept this
from him. Besides, he's been telling me to have fun this summer and not be
celibate. `Sow your wild oats, son,' were his exact words. But a part of
that is letting him know I'm being responsible. Doing it right. Doing right
by him, y'know?"

I nodded, understanding perfectly. I didn't need to know everything about
what my boy got up to, but especially when it came to Caleb, I had a
father's need to keep tabs on him. Because what he did alone affected what
we did together. I was glad my boy understood that, and somehow, being able
to share with each other gave us more freedom when we were together. And
beyond that, of course, I got a deep sexual kick out of hearing about my
studly kid's exploits. Knowing Big Jim O'Malley as well as I did, I just
knew he was wired the same way.

"Kind of like Caleb," I said, sipping on my beer. "I think he knows we were
going to connect, you and me. The kid practically gave me his blessing at
the game tonight."

"Yeah?" Kieran said with an amused look. I nodded and grinned.

"I don't know how you might feel about this, bud... but I'm hoping maybe
you might like to get to know my son better."

That put a sparkle in his eyes. "Like father, like son, huh big guy?"

He chuckled and ran his hand up and down the meat of my thigh, his big
grappler's hand just barely grazing the sticky head of my cock where it
rested, happily spent.

"For me, I usually go for older men. Guys like my dad. Like you, AJ," he
said. "But I think... knowing he's your boy, that's a real turnon. And you
know, being an only child... I've kind of always wondered what it'd be like
to have a little bro, sometimes..."

I growled at that, flashing back on that earlier image of the two of them,
working together to work me over. I reached for the back of Kieran's neck
and pulled him in for a brief, but deep kiss.

"Caleb would be thrilled, buddy," I said. "He thinks you're a total stud."

"Yeah?" Kieran laughed.

"Yeah, and I agree with him 100 percent," I grinned. "And he's an only kid
too – I bet he'd love the chance to have a big bro. Especially one like
you. Somebody to teach him all the things a big brother should. Somebody to
share things with. To share the bond with somebody who understands."

"Damn," Kieran said, reaching down to tug on the thickness of his big jock
dick, and I wasn't surprised to see it twitch and thicken a little in
response. Ah, to be twenty again...

"He's a hot dude," he went on, running his hand up and down through the
sweaty, matted fur on my stomach, up between my pecs. "Just like his Dad. I
think it'd be fun to get to know him better."

"Like family?" I asked, with a grin he matched.

"Fuck yeah, like family," he smiled, leaning up to trade a long, slow,
sensuous kiss with me that went on for several minutes, his big young cock
steadily engorging against the thickness of my thigh as we swapped spit
lazily.

"You know, I don't want to tell tales out of school, Kieran," I said after
we eventually broke the kiss. "But me and your dad... well, we have a bit
of history ourselves."

He gave me a look that was half surprised.

"You mean...?" he said.

"You're not the first O'Malley I've fucked," I finished for him, nodding,
with a shit-eating grin.

"Oh god damn, Dad," he growled.

God, did that rile the young jock up. He practically pounced on me, his
hungry, open mouth crashing into mine, and sucked the air out of me, while
grinding his rapidly boning dick into my hairy stomach.

"Maybe we can all arrange..." I started, when I managed to come up for air
between hungry, mouth-reaming kisses from the horned-up young jock.

"Oh fuck yeah," Kieran growled, cutting me off again with another searing,
searching wet kiss. "All of us, together... as family? Duuuuude..."

Yeah, he got it – he was a family guy to the core, alright. Just like
me.

In no time at all, we were ready to roll into our second go-round. This
time, I reached into his bedside drawer again, pulled that framed picture
of him and his Dad out, and set it on the bedside table. Kieran looked
momentarily surprised, then gave me a grin that was pure young
horniness. He looked more and more like his father every minute, I swore.

"Fuck yeah, Dad," Kieran said with a devilish grin, grabbing hold of me
like the champion wrestler jock he was and flipping me over onto my back
effortlessly, before sliding his big, beautiful body up the length of mine
to devour my mouth again. This time, we let Big Jim watch us as Kieran
demonstrated his dadfucker's prowess, my studly young intern rocking my
world as he masterfully fucked his boss, his summer-substitute Dad.