Date: Tue, 1 Sep 2015 14:15:01 -0400
From: T-Bonez None <doggin_it@hotmail.com>
Subject: Betrayal and Redemption -Part Three

If you're not of a legal age to be be reading sexually explicit material,
don't read this.

Any similarity to actual people or events is coincidental.
The story is about consenting adults engaging in consensual acts.

Some people who will read this will think it's a complete work of fantasy.
Hell, If I'd read it a few years ago, I'd have thought the same
thing. Recent events have forced me to accept that sometimes life is turned
on it's head and the most improbable scenario becomes your stark reality.

Thanks everyone for your feedback - PLEASE SUPPORT NIFTY!

...............................................................................

I glanced down at my watch, Mike would be home in less than an hour. At
this point, my husband and I were like two estranged roommates living under
the same roof. We hardly spoke, and on the few occasions when he tried to
make eye contact or put his hand on my shoulder, I'd just walked away. The
only real conversation we'd had was when I'd stated, that under no
circumstances was Mike to have ANY contact with my son, Kieran: No phone
calls; No texts; No emails...Nothing. He agreed and promised, thought my
husband's assurances no longer inspired any confidence in me. I didn't want
Mike to arrive while Kieran was here because I didn't want them in the same
room together. Anything I had to say to Kieran, I had to be said quickly.

I began to talk about the 400 pound gorilla in the room: "Look Kieran,
about that night..." My son interrupted, "We don't have to talk about
that." Trying to move things along I said, "You might not need to, but I
do. I want the chance to explain myself." Kieran looked puzzled, "Explain
yourself?" I was so focused on trying to form my explanation into something
that would make any sense that I wasn't paying attention: The puzzled look
on Kieran's face or what he'd just said, his inflection. In retrospect, a
big red flag should have gone up.

I began again, fiddling with my watch so as to avoid eye-contact with my
son, "I was jealous. Seeing you two sharing a level of intimacy that I
wasn't part of... I guess more than anything I felt... excluded.  Anyhow, I
guess I just wanted to be, I don't know, included. It made me go a bit
crazy. I think that's why something snapped in my head. The next thing I
knew I was getting, err... well, aroused . Anyhow, one thing just led to
another and well, you saw the result: Me cumming all over the basement
window as I watched you guys fucking. Does that make ANY sense?"

I glanced back up at Kieran. A look of pure shock on his face, his eyes as
big a saucers. He looked like the proverbial 'deer in the
headlights'. "WHAT!" he said, I was totally caught off guard, "But!" I
sputtered, "Well, you guys saw me. You both looked right at me!" Kieran
shook his head slowly, then replied "Oh my god, we had no idea. We were
just, um, how should I put this... finishing up, when we heard a noise at
the window. We both looked over and saw someone moving outside. At first I
thought it was a peeping tom, but then Mike started to freak out and said
it was you. He ran upstairs and saw you running down the street. By the
time he got some clothes on and went out the front door you were gone. We
both thought you'd just seen us, freaked out and took off."

My mind raced. I'd postulated a hundred different ways this conversation
might go, but this was not in the playbook. I was sure they had seen
everything. I could remember seeing my copious load of cum running down the
window. How could they have possibly not seen it? As I was searching for
what to say next, I heard an engine in the driveway. Then a car door
close. " It's Mike!" I half shouted, "He's early! Kieran, you have to go
now!" We both jumped up and headed for the back door, I let Kieran out and
he headed across the lawn, "I'll wait back here until the coast is clear,
then I'll slip out the side gate," he assured me. As I heard the front door
open, I looked for my own escape route. I needed some time to compose
myself before my husband, Mike, clapped eyes on me. I headed for the
basement. I stopped when I reached to bottom of the stairs. It was the fist
time I'd been down there since before I'd seen my husband and my son
screwing in this very room.

I stood and looked around. The desk, the chairs, the window... I made my
way over to the old over- stuffed chair and sat. This had been exactly
where my husband and son were situated when they saw me. I looked towards
the window. There was still daylight and I could clearly see the bushes
outside.  'Perhaps at night you can't see as much,' I postulated. Just then
I saw some movement, then a figure. It was Kieran. He knelt down at the
window as if inspecting it. Then he saw me and waved, a big smile crossing
his face. He gave me the 'thumbs up'. I raced back upstairs. I heard Mike
moving around in the bathroom, so I headed out into the yard.

I approached the spot next to the basement window where Kieran was still
crouching. "What are you doing here?" I whispered. My son replied, "Just
waiting 'till the coast was clear. Figured your little hiding spot was the
best place to stay out of sight." I thew him a stern look and said, "Well
it's clear now, you'd better hoof it before Mike sees you lurking around."
Kieran started to head off, then he paused and pointed to the window, "You
might want to grab a bucket and a sponge and clean that off before someone
else sees it. It looks like a glazed doughnut dad." Then he jogged away,
headed for the side gate.

'So', I thought, 'They didn't actually see me abusing myself, which would
be great...Except I've just gone and told Kieran. F.M.L., another colossal
screw-up on my part.'

Kieran reached out to me again. We exchanged texts, talked a few times on
the phone. Then we arranged to meet for coffee. He showed me around the new
dorm he was staying in. My son asked how things were with Mike. I sighed,
"Strange. Pretty awful. Bearable I guess." I went on to describe the
situation as best I could. We had started to have meals together again,
polite conversation. We avoided our friends as neither of us knew what to
tell them. The passion was gone for both of us despite the fact there was
still some love between us. We were in kind of terrible limbo: Impossible
to go back, unable to move forward. My son reached over and squeezed my
hand, "I'm so sorry dad, I wish I'd never..." his voiced trailed off as his
eyes welled up with tears. "Look at us, what a depressing pair, " I said,
forcing a smile. Kieran perked up "I know just the thing, a father and
son's night out on the town!"

............................................................................................................

Initially I was cool to the idea, but Kieran persisted. After work that
Friday I came home, showered and started to get ready. I'd picked up a new
pair of 501s, some designer boxer-briefs and a stylish, slim-cut tailored
shirt. After I dressed I checked out the results in the mirror. The shirt
looked all wrong hanging out, so I tucked it in and stepped back in front
of the mirror. 'Ugg,' I muttered. I could clearly see my V.P.L.. I tried my
best to rearrange my junk so it wasn't so obvious, no luck. 'Fuck it,' I
thought, 'You've got it, flaunt it.' I was ready. I decided to take the
train into the city so I could have a few beers. As I headed for the front
door Mike appeared from the kitchen, "You going somewhere?" he asked, his
eyes looking me up and down, pausing for a second at my well-packed
basket. "I'll be late" I said to Mike as I brushed past him.

As I exited Union Station and headed towards the sidewalk I saw Kieran. He
was wearing a tight polo, jeans and his basketball kicks. As I drew closer
I got a better look at his jeans, "501s?" I asked. "Like father, like son,"
he replied, smiling as we headed off together. We had a a bottle of Rioja
and a light supper. As I got up to pay, I felt a bit buzzed, 'Mental note,
pace yourself.' I thought. "Just going to hit the toilet before we leave,"
I informed Kieran. "Solid plan dad." As I headed into the loo, my son was
right behind me.

We stood at the urinal relieving ourselves. Standing next to someone with
my dick in my hand always made me a bit uncomfortable. I stared at the
ceiling and quipped, "What is the proper conversation to have in a
situation like this? Kieran replied, "Well, since you asked... Dad, can I
ask you something" "Sure, anything" I said, still staring at the ceiling,
Kieran spoke, "Are you circumcised?" I was caught a bit off guard, "Ah, ya,
I am. Why? "Just wondered, that's all" he said. I thought about it for a
second and asked, "You are too, right?" Kieran sighed, "Ya, I wish I wasn't
though." As we started to shake off and put our dicks away, I spied Kieran
taking a quick glance at my cock. My reflex was to have a quick peek at
his. Nothing salacious, just typical male curiosity.

"What now?" I asked. Kieran said, "I thought we'd check out Woody's"
Woody's is a Toronto institution. A stand-up gay bar that has been around
for decades, I'd been there several times. As we walked in the bouncer
asked Kieran for his ID. Kieran reached into his pocket and pulled out his
card.  I could see he bouncer's fingers move as he did the mental
calculation. "You're good to go" the bouncer said, and waved us past. "What
about my ID, need to see it?" I joked. "If it will make you feel any
better," was the dead-pan response.

I grabbed us a couple of beers and held one to my son. "One sec!" Kieran
said, and he headed back over to the bar. A few minutes later he reappeared
carrying two shot glasses. "Tequila shooters! He announced. We downed the
shots and started to drink our beers as we circulated. At first we didn't
speak much, we were both just taking in all the sights: There were a mix of
well dressed professionals, buff gym bunnies, a few twinks and
twunks. Woody's always struck me as the kind of gay bar you could take your
mother to.

We got another round of drinks and found a good observation point in a
corner to check out the crowd.  "Let's play a game," my son said. "A game?"
I parroted. Kieran elaborated, "Who's the best looking guy in the place. I
smiled, "Oh that's easy, you are!" Kieran blushed, then said "Come on, play
along.  If you could take any guy home, just for sex, who would it be?" I
looked around the bar, "No one is really jumping out at the moment" I told
my son. "OK, what's your type then?" Kieran asked. I thought about it,
painting a mental image, " Let's see, tall, fit but not too built, smooth I
guess, Dark hair..." A big grin spread over Kieran's face. "What?" I
asked. Kieran pointed at himself. I shot him a look, "No, OLDER. Much
older!" I clarified. "How old?" my son inquired. "My age!" I said. Kieran
fake-frowned, "But you said I was the best looking guy here." "You're
impossible, I replied, "That was before you said anything about sex."

"OK," I said, "Your turn!" Kieran scanned the room and pointed to a guy,
then another and a third. All the guys he'd identified had similar
characteristics. Professional types,clean shaven, trim and taller...  They
were also all very late thirties to mid forties. As I pondered this Kieran
piped up, "No, him!" I followed Kieran's gaze. There stood a handsome man,
early to mid forties, about 6 feet tall with salt and pepper hair. "A bit
old for you?" I asked. My son just shrugged, "I don't think so."

As the night progressed, we stopped into a few more bars having one or two
drinks at each. I glanced at my watch, ten o'clock. Lots of time, the last
train for home didn't leave until almost 12. As we rounded a corner there
was a bar with a big facade. There was a long line up, all guys. "This
looks interesting!"  Kieran beamed. We cued up and waited in line, it was
getting cold outside. By the time we reached the door our teeth were
chattering and we were huddled together to fight off the cold wind. We paid
the cover-charge and made our way inside. The place was chucking, you could
hardly move for all the people . I grabbed a couple of beers and looked
around, there seemed to an open area up ahead so we moved in that
direction. When we got there, a low stage was occupying the space.

The penny dropped: This was a gay strip club.

.........................................................................................................

It was too noisy and crowed to carry on a proper conversation, so my son
and I drank our beers and

took in the scenery. The staff were all fit and shirtless. Strippers in
g-strings and compression shorts mingled with the crowd. Whomever hires the
staff and strippers had an obvious type: Smooth, six pack and hung. I
started to get aroused. It was inevitable: I'd gone from having sex
occasionally, and jerking off almost every day, to almost no release at all
in weeks. My rapidly hardening cock strained at my jeans. Nearly naked men,
the constant crush of warm bodies, the heady smell of perspiration...

The music started up and the spot-lights came on, the crowd cheered. The DJ
announced the name of the stripper coming to the stage. Everyone surged
forward so they could have the best possible view. I looked over my
shoulder to see how my son was situated. Kieran was directly behind me,
backed up against the wall. As I leaned back to ask if he was OK, someone
took the opportunity to fill the gap I'd created in front of me. Now I was
pinned, my back to Kieran's chest and someone's butt firmly pushed into my
crotch. As the stripper went through his routine, he revealed what he was
packing.... Serious heat. He was ENORMOUS, I'm talking a genuine,
certifiable 10" of cock. He was super fucking hot as well. Perfect body, he
could dance, nice smile, the complete package.

I was raging hard, I'm sure everyone in the place with a pulse was. I
reached down to try and find a more comfortably position for my boner. As I
did my hand grazed the ass in front of me. Undeterred, I tried again to
straighten my rod out, it was bent at a painful angle. The guy in front of
me turned his head to see who was pawing at his butt. He looked at me and
smiled, then looked down at my crotch.  He smiled again and spoke, trying
to be heard over the crowd "Nice hard-on buddy!" Kieran tapped me on the
shoulder and spoke in my ear, "What did that guy just say to you?" "I have
no idea," I lied. "It sounded like he said 'nice hard-on daddy'... And he's
cute too!'" my son informed me. I shrugged and looked back towards the
stage. Kieran was right, the guy I'd just inadvertently molested was a bit
twinky for my taste, but he was cute. As I looked down I noticed he also
had a very nice bubble-butt.

As the show on the stage continued, Kieran leaned forward for a better
view, he rested his hand on my shoulder and leaned up against my back to
balance himself as he stood on the tips of his toes. I could feel my sons'
hot breath on my neck. I tried to inch forward to give him some more space
but only succeeded in grinding my package into the cleft of the twink's
ass. This resulted in his turning slightly to smile at me again. He reach
behind himself and I felt the back of his hand make contact with my
crotch. He turned his wrist 180 degrees and gave my hard cock a gentle
squeeze. Then I felt another sensation: My son against my back. As he tried
to maintain his balance on his toes he was rocking slightly. Kieran was
hard, I could feel the profile of his stiff rod pressed against me. 'I bet
everyone in here is sporting wood at the moment,' I thought, 'That is
rather then entire point of the strippers.'

The guy in front of me squeezed my cock again, then again. He started a
slow, rhythmic squeeze-and- release pattern. My cock lurched and I felt my
knob release a blob of precum. Much more of this and I was going to shoot
in my pants. I reach down to brush his hand away, he held on tightly and
squeezed again. I tried to gently move his hand and, at the same time, pull
my pelvis back to get free of his grip. In doing so I literally thrust my
butt firmly into Kieran's erection with a hard bounce. I glanced back to
apologize to my son. He was staring over my shoulder looking downward. From
his vantage point he could clearly see my new friend's hand was firmly
latched onto my crotch. My son squeezed my shoulder and bumped his hard
cock against my butt with more force than before.

Suddenly the music stopped and the stripper left the stage, the crowd
quickly started to dissipate. I managed to step forward, creating a space
between my son and me. I looked down and saw a big wet spot on where the
precum had pooled just below the head of my cock. I turned to Kieran and
ordered him to stay put, "Don't move! Stay right here until I come back!" I
headed down the stairs for the toilet to clean myself up and splash some
water on my face. With the show just over, there was a mob in the
bathroom. Another complication, I need to take a piss, BADLY. All that beer
was taking it's toll.  I waited my tun until a spot opened along the urinal
trough that was built into the floor and ran the entire length of the men's
room. I hauled my cock out as I stepped up and started to relieve
myself. The guy next to me backed away and the next person in line stepped
in. I glanced over, it was the guy who'd been giving me the covert hand-job
up stairs. He's been right on my heels, following me to the men's room. We
made eye contact, "Fancy meeting you here with your cock out," he chirped.

I glanced down to see him struggling to fish his prick out, it was hard. He
started giving it short, sharp strokes. Was he insane? There were about ten
of , shoulder to shoulder, along the length of the trough, anyone could
clearly see what he was doing. I glanced to my left and right. About half
of the guys were taking a piss, perhaps four guys were jerking off and
watching each other. I looked back to action to my immediate left. Twink
boy had a nice cock, not big, five-and-a-half inches with a decent girth
and uncut. I felt my cock rising in my hand. It quickly lengthened and
filled out to it's full 7 1/2 very fat, inches. "Wow!" commented twink boy
as he smiled. The crowd in the bathroom thinned out, a second show had
started upstairs. Anyone coming in to piss at this point had access one of
the cubicals.  This left five guys at the trough whacking-off and one guy
just watching with is cock hanging out...  Me. I looked up and down the row
at the faces and the cocks. I'd lucked out, the cutest guy was standing
right next to me, twink boy. I refocused my attention on his prick,
occasionally looking up to admire his cute boyish face and impish
smile. His eyes were glued to my fat fuck-stick. I started to stroke my
cock.

I'd just found my rhythm and was getting into the zone when Twink boy bent
he knees slightly, inhaled sharply and fired two quick shots of watery cum
into the trough at his feet. He rolled his foreskin up and down a couple of
times and shook the last vestiges of boy-juice off of his prick. Then he
turned and left. The whole process had taken about 4 minutes from start to
finish. 'No stamina', I thought.  Then it occurred to me, I'd better wrap
this up, the longer I linger, the greater the chance of a staff member
coming in chasing all the wankers out. I looked down at myself: My tight
shirt highlighting my decent build. No abs to speak of, but my tummy was
flat and tight. Then there was the pièce de ré·sis·tance, my
cock. I'd always been proud of my hefty meat-pole. The twink had seemed
infatuated with it.

Just then, someone stepped up next to me on my left again. Average
looking... At best. My age... At least. Certainly not my type. Maybe he has
a nice cock though? As his pecker came into view I cringed, it looked like
it had been fed through a wood-chipper. Gnarly and bent like a hockey
stick.  That's no help.

I closed my eyes and pictured twink boy, 'That's better', I thought as I
could feel myself getting back in the zone. I felt myself getting close, I
was almost there. Just a little nudge to put me over the top. I felt my
cock throb and a good drizzle of precum bubbled out, I opened my eyes. I
looked over to my right.  A space of about three feet, then a guy in some
faded jeans with worn cuffs. 'Nice dick', I thought.  Longish and crowned
with a nice big mushroom head. I felt my cock pulse again as looked up to
his face. He had that bearded "lumber-sexual" look. We made eye-contact, he
had the palest sky-blue eyes.  I was past the point of no return, my orgasm
was imminent and I could tell it was going to be a belter.  My toes curled
inside my shoes and I announced to Mr. Lumber-sexual, "I'm going to cum! "
Oh god, I'm ready too," I heard the words, but Mr. Lumber-sexual's lips
hadn't moved. He took a step back, revealing the person to his immediate
right. Not six feet away from me, stood my son Kieran.

My son's eyes travelled from my face, down to my cock as it began to spasm,
"Holy fuck, it's HUGE!'  Kieran blurted out. My glaze shot down to my son's
crotch. His hand wrapped tightly stroking his perfect 7" boner. The first
volley of cum blasted out my cock nailing the back of the urinal with a
loud 'splat'. A fraction of a second later, Kieran's big prick shot off
with such force his cum ricocheted everywhere. Some landed on the
Mr. Lumber-sexual, resulting in his taking an additional step back.  My
cock fired off 4 more strong, rapid fire successions of thick, ropey
goo. Meanwhile, my son had pointed his cock almost straight up as a salvo
of three more rounds of spunk shot up and beyond the back-splash and oozed
down the wall.

We stood there for a few more second, our cocks pulsed out the balance of
our heavy loads as we panted, almost in unison. Staring at each other.
Kieran smiled weakly and spoke, "Hey dad how's it going?" Mr lumber-sexual
shot us both a look and parroted "Dad?" He looked over our faces, comparing
our features and it clicked, "You're his... Dude! He IS your dad!

..............................................................................

End of Part Three.