Date: Sat, 15 Aug 2009 16:25:48 -0400
From: tommyhawk1@aol.com
Subject: Say the Wrong Thing

			    SAY THE WRONG THING
			   By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
		      WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM

     I was in a situation I'd been in far more times than I care to
count. My ex-wife, my daughter and her 19-year-old, Marine recruit
boyfriend were all looking at me like I was an idiot. My big mouth, of
course.
     "Daddy!" moaned Annette first.
     "Good grief, Harold!" Marsha said right after that.
     "Uh, thank you, sir." Private First Class Victor Tolliver said, and
flushed.
     "Daddy, how could you?" Annette continued and fled the room. Victor
followed her, a puzzled look on his earnest blond-cropped hair above the
field-green uniform.
     "Harold, you really have to learn to watch your mouth!" my ex-wife
launched into me.
     "I was just trying to be friendly." I said. "You know, make a joke in
an awkward situation."
     "So you took one look at our daughter's new boyfriend, then another
look up and down and you whistle like a 40's cartoon wolf at a pretty girl
and say, Whoo-hoo! Scrumptious!'" My ex-wife repeated my words with relish.
     "I'm sure he already knew I was gay." I said.
     "Well if he didn't, he certainly doesn't have any questions now, does
he? And what is he going to think of our daughter with a father like you?"
     "He's going to think she has good taste to pick him?" I ventured.
     "Oh, God!" was her sole comment and she left to go help console her
daughter.
     So I'd stuck my foot in my mouth again. Shit! I was trying to be gay
and a father to a now-adult daughter. Everyone says, when they grow up, you
have to stop being their parent and start being their friend. Well, I'd
just tried that with her new boyfriend, express my appreciation at how he
was six foot two inches tall, with a wide set of shoulders and slim hips
and a basket that filled out even those slouchy green fatigues he was
wearing so...oh, my God, that boy must have a ten-inch dong in there! And
his face, wide and honest and innocent and kind, I just wanted to kiss him
and never let him go.
     Make a joke? Hell, I'd just said the first thing on my lips was all.
     My daughter deserved an apology all right. I'd better go find her and
Victor and apologize to both of them.
     I turned to see a blond muscular hunk in the doorway. He cleared his
throat. "Mr. Sawyer?"
     "Call me Hal." I said. "My friends all do. When I hear the name
Harold,' it means I'm in trouble for my big mouth again."
     "Yes, sir." Victor cleared his throat, said, "Can we speak somewhere
private, sir?"
     "About what I said?" I asked and he nodded. "Look, I owe you a big
apology, I was just mouthing off, I was nervous and...."
     "It's not that, sir." Victor said. "I know you were just being
yourself, sir."
     "Yes, I was." I said. "My daughter says that my mouth just keeps
flapping long after everyone else is getting tired of hearing it, and I say
things without thinking and end up making everything worse the longer I
talk and...." I trailed off, sheepishly. "I'm doing it again, aren't I?"
     "I guess so, sir."
     "Look, let me go apologize to my daughter and then I'll meet you,
say...upstairs, the second bedroom on the right." I said. "It's where I'm
sleeping tonight, assuming I don't get kicked out the door before I can
finish apologizing."
     "I'll be up there, sir." Victor said. I followed that so-tight,
high-up, rectangular instead of rounded set of buttocks as they began to
wobble left-up, right-up, left-up, right-up as he went upstairs. Oh, God,
if I could stick my tongue between those buttocks, I'd turn those things
back into globes before I stopped digging! Shaking my head, I went to
apologize to Annette.
     Fifteen minutes of saying, "I'm sorry, honey" and "I'm an idiot" over
and over did it like it always did. She was wiping her face dry and looked
in her mirror.
     "Oh, God, I've ruined my makeup." she moaned. "Mom, do you have any
Citrus Sunset color lipstick?"
     "No, dear, but I have "Orange Blush." my ex-wife offered,
     "That won't do!" Annette moaned.
     "What's the difference?" I asked. "An orange blushing and an orange
playing the sun going down behind the hills. Sound the same to me."
     "Haven't you chewed on your boot sole enough today?" My ex-wife chimed
in, her favorite way of pointing out I was about to stick my foot in it
again.
     "Okay, I'll shut up."
     "Can't you use a different shade of lipstick?" my ex-wife asked my
daughter.
     "No, Mom, it matches this blouse!"
     "Where can we buy it?" my ex-wife said.
     "God, put on some Orange Blush!" I moaned. "You two take off shopping,
dinner will take another couple of hours, at least."
     "You keep out of this!" Marsha said to me. "Come on, baby, we'll find
you some more lipstick and then we'll come back and fix these two baboons
something to eat."
     "Ook, ook, ook, ook, ook!" I said, scratching myself under my arm.
     That got me a laugh and a kiss from my daughter. Now and then, I say
something right.
     I saw them out the door. What was it I had to do now? Oh, yeah,
Victor! He wanted to talk to me privately about something or other. He
seemed like an old-fashioned kind of guy, maybe he wanted to ask for my
daughter's hand in marriage. It would explain why my unorthodox but
positive response to him was why he wanted to talk to me, but not need an
apology for me basically raping him with my eyes.
     So I went into my bedroom with a pretty positive outlook here. I find
Victor pacing about nervously, I figure for certain that he's about to ask
me the question regarding my daughter's fingers and the appendage they were
attached to, and the ownership thereof being transferred from me to him.
     "All right, Victor, what is it you want to talk about?"
     "Well, it's kind of about what you said, sir." Victor began.
     "I thought as much." I said smiling. "In fact, let me save you the
trouble of asking me. I'd be glad to say yes."
     "You will?" Victor's face lit up and a grin split it right in two,
nearly. "God, that's great! Just great!"
     "Happy to give you my blessing, in fact." I went on. "I hope you'll
let me be the one to let it out."
     "Uh...certainly, sir!" Victor began walking toward me.
     "I mean, it's my moment to be the one on top of everything, you know."
I went on.
     "You can be on top if you want to, sir."
     "And I know that it will just thrill my ex-wife to know I'm the one
doing it."
     "You think so?" Victor's eyes showed confusion. Then he shook his
head, said, "You know her better than me, but I'd think she'd be the last
one who would want to know."
     "Are you kidding?" I said. "Marsha is going to want every last detail
from me when I'm done."
     "You'd be the one to know, sir." Victor said. "Uh, can we take care of
it right now, then, while they're gone?"
     "Now?" I said. "But there's nobody to tell anything!"
     "I don't want to tell anyone until we're done." Victor said.
     I began to feel that old, familiar feeling. "I've done said the wrong
thing again, haven't I?"
     "Yes, sir." Victor said. "It's all right. Just let me be the one to
get us started, and we'll get things straightened out that way, all right?"
     "Fine." I said to my soon-to-be son-in-law. "You take charge here and
I'll figure out what I said wrong."
     And Victor stepped really close to me, looked me right in my nonplused
eyes, and leaned in and I was being kissed by this huge, muscled soldier
boy and I was being kissed for real!
     "Glmph!" I said and then my lips got under control and I could kiss
him back, and I began to cook with gas, making sure this big lug knew I
appreciated what he was doing!
     His hands went around my body and I raised my captive arms up as much
as I could to reciprocate, could only find that narrow waist. I felt
cheated, then grinned to myself. I wasn't cheated. My hands went down
again, and I caught those twin pair of tight buns and I pulled him to
me. His cock smashed into my navel (his height was about six inches more
than mine!) and I squirmed to make that rod wriggle about in his pants
(either he was in boxers, or going commando!), and Victor moaned and began
to hunch at me, his lips nibbling at my neck.
     "God, Victor, I didn't know you wanted me!" I gasped as he feasted on
my shoulder-blade, pushing my shirt apart to get at it. "I thought you
wanted to marry my daughter."
     Victor was surprised at that, and he leaned back, "Marry Annette?"
     "Yeah." I said. "I mean, you wanted to talk to me and you were
nervous, so I just figured you wanted to ask my permission to marry her."
     "So that's why you said...." Victor threw his head back and
laughed. "Your ex-wife is right, sir!" he got out after a time. "You just
always say the wrong thing."
     "I know better now." I said humbly.
     "Yeah, you know better now." Victor said. "Now, sir, where were we?"
     I remembered. "You had promised to let me be the one on top."
     "Huh?" Victor did a double-take. "Yeah, I did."
     I grabbed those buns again. "So let me take charge here like you
promised."
     "Uh...yes, sir." Victor agreed. "That's probably for the best."
     I remembered some more. "So what were you going to ask me?"
     "Well, I knew that you were gay, so I introduced myself to Annette in
order to meet you. I wanted to see if you could introduce me to other gay
men, sir. But when you said that you said, I figured, shoot, I might as
well do it with you, sir. If you were willing."
     "So I said something right after all!" I marveled. "That's a first for
me!"
     "So could you take charge, sir?" Victor said. "Let me find out what
it's like. Do it right and all? If you can."
     "Don't worry." I said. "I only talk wrong." And Victor visibly
relaxed.
     "Let's get you naked, and then on the bed." I said. "We got plenty of
time. When my ex-wife and daughter go out for a tube of lipstick, they come
back in two or three hours with about a hundred dollars of stuff."
     "Good." Victor agreed. He reached up and began to undo that green
fatigue shirt he had on. Under it was a green t-shirt, but much darker in
color. It clung to him like so much spray paint. Then he peeled it off over
his head, and I saw the wonderfully sculptured form of him. Nineteen years
old, more than two decades my junior, and he was giving me a strip tease, I
realized, because when he finished lifting it off over his head, the tee
still trapping his lower arms, he grinned at me and I grinned back and
stepped up.
     "I believe you could use some help here." I said. "Like with the belt
buckle and what's underneath it."
     "I believe I could, sir." Victor agreed like a good soldier in the
face of his superior.
     Hmm, these belts are kind of odd. A solid square brass in the
middle. It had to work somehow. A button on top slid. I tried to push it
with one finger.
     "If I can help you, sir?" Victor offered, and when I pulled my hands
back, he reached down and undid the belt easily, slid it off his pants.
     "Okay, I can take it from here." I said. I was confronted by a rather
formidable looking zipper. Twice the size of any zipper I'd seen
before. Heavy duty, I guess. Still, it was a zipper and I got it down after
unfastening the single button at the top. Now it's time for the real fun. I
pulled them down and yep, he had on boxers, also army green. But they were
tented out with plain old American dick, I was in familiar territory
now. With his pants down, I wasted no time in freeing that marvelous
monster and giving him a warm place to hide, inside my mouth!
     Victor just moaned and let me chow down on him. I was able to shove
that entire ten-incher (I knew it!) into my mouth and throat and just sort
of suckle on it, using my tongue to taste it all over, working my lips as I
slowly relinquished it, causing Victor to give out wave after wave of
pleased grunting. And my fingers got to play with those unclothed buns of
his, my God, they were like a pair of solid muscles there, so little give
in them, they were practically fatless! I just wanted to palp them, but
there was no give in those solid orbs.
     Grunting in frustration, I spun my willing teenaged recruit around and
bent him over, and those dimpled pads of his turned out to be like a pair
of back-to-back and upside-down L's! The Marines had trained his butt out
of being a butt! I dove into the small remaining cleft they had left him
and tasted the strong funk of his body there, the concentrated oils of his
body as they eked out and were trapped there, the water evaporating,
leaving the rest to stay and await my tongue's attentions.
     When my tongue-tip ticking his tuckerhole, Victor moaned, "Oh, God,
sir, I never felt nothing like that before!"
     Well, let's give him more of what he hadn't had before! I caressed and
nourished that entire ring, and then I stiffened my tongue into a sharp
tipped spear and poked it at the central sphincter. Victor gasped, and then
the sphincter gave way for me a bit, and my tip ducked inside for a bit of
the bitter juices, bearing them out in triumph.
     "Oh, Jesus, sir, I can't take that!" Victor groaned. "I am so fucking
hot, my nuts are about to explode, sir! Can you please hurry and finish me
off, sir, please? I don't care, how, just let me get off!"
     So much stud, so little time! I considered this and settled for
squirming under and between his legs, the pants tramped down over his boots
onto the floor, and me now able to suck his dong while I drove a
spit-slicked finger into that tiny hole of his I'd been prospecting in.
     With that going for me, Victor didn't last long at all, the blond stud
squirmed, screamed, and creamed, his hot juices pouring into my mouth and
throat, the kind of a load only a hot teenager can unleash and which a
sex-deprived recruit saves up for weeks at a time! I drank him down and
when I scooted to safety when he was finished, he fell onto the bed, his
knees hitting the floor. I crawled up onto the bed myself, my clothes
wringing wet with sweat (I hadn't undressed at all during all this) and
sighed with delight. "Boy, I'm sure glad I said the wrong things to you." I
said.
     Victor turned and his hand rested on my chest. "Now it's my turn,
isn't it, sir?"
     "Your turn? For what?"
     He smiled. "There you go saying the wrong thing again. You should have
said, it sure is, so get busy." And he proved his point by beginning to
undress me. He was a lot better at it than I had been with him.
     He got me naked with only brief pauses to free his fettered feet from
boots, socks, pants and boxers. When we were both free for the taking, he
climbed on top of me and his tongue began to do things I didn't think a
nineteen-year-old had any ideas about. So much for him being totally naive,
this guy may not have done it before, but he had read up on all the tricks
and was trying them out on me. He took my own trick of licking my butthole,
too, my legs up high in the air, and I found myself moaning like he had
been.
     "Now I get to finish you off, sir." he said.
     "Yeah, but...if you can." I said. "Would you finish me off my way?"
     "How's that?"
     "Fuck me." I said. "Get it hard and stick it up me. God, I want that
hard young pud of yours buried in me to the hilt."
     He spat liberally on his hand and soon had a greased pillar aimed at
my nether tunnel. As it slipped in slowly, his muscled hips thrusting it
in, his broad, massive body above me, I groaned and clutched at him,
hard. He and I fell into a comfortable rhythm, our bodies matching and
meshing. My older body needed more time, and with him having already shot
his top load, he could give me the time. For a long, blissful, uncounted
time, he fucked my ass, us shifting positions again and again, me on top of
him, riding him, him kneeling by the bed with me splayed out on the bed in
a T-formation, me curled into a ball with him lying on top of it, his cock
and hips nearby it practially our sole point of contact.
     At long, long last, my body agreed that it was time for me to release
my juices to this magnificent stud. The sparks began to flicker in my
brain, the pleasures warmed about me, and I clutched him (we were back to
him on top, me with my legs around his waist again), and I said, "I'm about
to come, Victor. You ready to get my spunk all over those washboard abs of
yours?"
     "Yes, sir!" He grinned, and when he shifted his tempo, closed his eyes
and began to move more earnestly, I realized that he had been waiting for
me all along. And as I built my orgasm, he constructed his own citadel of
climax alongside, as I cried out, his face darkened like he was blushing,
as I splashed him with my vaunted warning shot of jizz onto his stomach, he
gave out a keening cry and I felt another, equally huge load of hot sperm
boiling into my body, I moaned and pulled him to me, my cock was trapped
between us and squelched my cream into a lather between us, while Victor's
nuts squirted my bowels on and on, him above me, his face scrunched up in
climax, and I closed my own eyes and moaned along with him.
     "Oh, God, I wish this particular moment would go on forever." I gasped
out at the end of my orgasm, my body still shaking and wracked with
aftershocks of passion.
     "So do I, sir." Victor agreed.
     "What the hell are you two doing?" came the outraged cry of my
ex-wife.
     "Oh, Daddy, how could you?" came my daughter's anguished moan right
next to her.
     "Ah, Jeez!" Victor moaned and rolled off me.
     I did my best, I sat up naked, come-covered, on the edge of the bed,
and I confronted my ex-wife and my daughter and I said, "You got it all
wrong! Victor never planned to sleep with Annette. He was after me all
along!"
     I always did say the wrong thing at a time like this!

				  THE END
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		  E-mail the Author at Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
		      WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM