Date: Sat, 17 Sep 2016 19:13:26 +0000 (UTC)
From: a4f101@yahoo.com
Subject: Built To Last

Here's a story taken from my Tumblr, at a4f101.tumblr.com/storytime. You
can find this one, and the pic that inspired it, here:
http://a4f101.tumblr.com/post/127124052364/

You can also find a whole lot more of my stories here on Nifty - look for
'a4f101' in the Prolific Authors listing.

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 jurisdiction, please come back when you're of legal age.

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

*****

"The hell is this thing made out of, rocks and lead?" Grady huffed as we
gutted my new sofa up three flights of stairs, muscles straining.

"It's midcentury," I said, trying not to pant. "Built to last. They don't
make `em like this anymore."

"Yeah, probably because they all got heart attacks and died from having to
carry the damn things around," he grumbled, but good-naturedly.

I doubted Grady was at any risk of that. The kid - well, young man, now -
was healthy as an ox, big and strong. He'd been your typical
football-player jock all through school, then traded that for CrossFit
through college, and now he looked like a marble statue, pumped and primed
and shirtless in my living room, his chunky pecs and defined abs gleaming
with sweat, the veins in his pumped-up arms like ridges down along the big,
thick muscles. The little thatch of chest fur fanning up out of the deep
cleft between those pecs, along with the reddish-brown stubble highlighting
his strong jaw, just reinforced the fact that he definitely was no kid
anymore - he was all man. Even in a Corona baseball cap, raggedy old
basketball shorts and a dingy pair of sneakers. He looked absolutely
amazing.

"This where you want it?" he said as we set it down across from the
fireplace. Like the couch, the apartment was a classic, at least sixty
years old, built to last. I'd traded in a charmless four-bedroom
mini-mansion in the suburbs for it, and I'd never been happier. Let my
ex-wife deal with the lawn and the pool - well, she'd probably hire some
strapping young dudes for that, and probably try to fuck them into the
bargain too. Hell, I'd have done the same, in her position. It's partly why
we were freshly divorced.

Of course, back when my name was still on the deed, Grady was the strapping
young dude mowing that big suburban lawn and cleaning the pool, shirtless
and sweat-gleaming in the sun, his big, fit young body growing more
appealing every year. It would have been totally inappropriate for Nicola
to fuck him. Hell, it would have been inappropriate for me to fuck him, but
that never stopped me scoping him out from inside the house, admiring his
growing musculature, the gleam of sweat on his smooth skin, his handsome
young face, the way his athletic shorts clung to the ever-growing thickness
of his thighs, and the solid rounded muscles of his ass.

Totally inappropriate. But I'd thought about it a lot, busted a number of
hefty loads imagining what I'd do to him, what we'd do together. And seeing
him now, tipping his ballcap back to swipe the sweat from his forehead with
one thick forearm as he surveyed my new digs, my mind was already saving
the sight and the heady, sweaty scent of him to my mental hard drive for
future spank bank inspiration.

"It's a real nice place," he said. "Gonna look great once you get some
stuff in here. Plenty of room for you."

We were both a little awkward, now that we were here. The divorce was a
real minefield to navigate, and as ready as I thought I'd been to handle
it, the reality was a whole other thing. Especially coupled with me coming
out. A real one-two punch, a double whammy, but Grady was handling the
whole thing pretty well.

"So, you want a beer or something, bud?" I said to cover the sudden awkward
silence. He broke out in a big, handsome grin, and I could practically feel
the tension easing a little.

I gave him the tour of the place as we drank our beers, but when we got to
the bedroom, the new bed and the plastic-wrapped mattress front and center,
some of that awkwardness came back. I could tell he was thinking about what
might go on in here, once I got settled. And that made me think about that,
and think about him being part of those activities, and then I had to think
real hard to stop myself popping a big old boner in my own sweaty shorts.

"This is gonna be good for you, Dad," he said, leaning against the
doorframe, finally looking at me. "I know it's tough, and new - it's like
that for all of us - but I guess it's for the best. Shannon will get over
it, once she pulls her head out of her ass."

"Thanks, bud," I said, feeling full of warmth for my boy, and the man he
was steadily becoming. I reached out and squeezed the big, warm, sweat-damp
muscle of his shoulder, and he smiled. But he had more on his mind, more he
was trying to figure out how to say.

"I guess I gotta ask..." he began, then fell silent while he figured out
his words in that thoughtful way he'd always had.

"It doesn't have anything to do with... you know... us, does it?" he
finished, looking uneasy.

"No, bud," I said. "Not at all. I mean, shit, if your mother knew about any
of that, this would all have blown up a long time ago, and it wouldn't have
turned out nearly as well for us all as it did."

Hell, if Nicola had known that me and Grady had fucked around some, I might
have found my ass in jail. Just the thought of that, how close to
catastrophe we'd come, made me shudder inside. It had all been such a bad
idea. But sometimes a bad idea is a force of its own, becomes irresistible,
and then all you can do is find a way to rationalize it, or atone for it.

Irresistible like the look on Grady's face when he found my porn stash. The
way he didn't turn away in disgust when we had our talk about it. When I'd
spilled some of my deepest secrets to him. The way he'd stepped up close to
me, hugged me tight, already most of the way to being a man at 17... and
then brushed my lips with his.

Irresistible, like the feeling of that fast-developing young man's body
under his T-shirt, as my hands roved over it, as we fell into that kiss
that we both knew we shouldn't be sharing, but couldn't stop ourselves
plunging even deeper into.

Irresistible, like his hands pushing my shirt up over my head, and then
traveling over the muscles and hair on my chest. fascinated, compelled,
shaking a little... but driven by his own secret desires.

Irresistible, like the feeling of his body pressed tight to mine, as the
hard bulges of our cocks strained to get at each other through the
tight-stretched fabric of our underwear, as my son worked us back to his
bed, and down onto it, and into each other.

So wrong, such a bad idea... but somehow so right, too. Me and my
17-year-old son, committing the ultimate taboo, right there in the very
model of American suburbia. And then, with the familial cum still cooling
on our flushed, sweating skin, folding him back into my big arms, his lips
searching mine out again, and going for another round.

Our little secret. What I thought would be a one-time thing, and a year
passed before we found ourselves thrusting our tongues into each other's
mouths, doing that slow dance in his dorm room when I went to pick him up
for Thanksgiving break. We were two hours late getting home, and we'd lied
to Nicola about snow stalling traffic, when in reality it was the driving
urge to slide my cock up inside my son's tightness, connecting so deeply
with him in a way neither of us had ever dreamed.

Well, that wasn't true. I'd dreamed about it, ashamed. And he confessed to
me as we lay in his narrow dorm room bed afterwards, bodies entwined and
cooling, that he'd thought about it too. Often. And then we were in it,
head-first, delving deeper into that Bad Idea together.

It wasn't like we did it all the time, or even all that regularly. But
every so often, maybe once or twice a year, we'd find ourselves someplace
together with some time on our hands, and he'd give me that charming grin
of his, I'd feel the flip in my gut, and soon enough, we'd be battling
tongues as we flung our clothes off.

This was starting to feel a little like one of those times. It had been
quite awhile since we'd got together, over a year now, probably since the
summer he came home after graduation. And then the air between Nicola and
me had started getting genuinely toxic, poisoning the atmosphere all around
us. I started staying later at work, longer at the gym, doing anything I
could not to be around her, and not face the inevitability of it. The end
of something I hadn't been sure I'd wanted, back when we'd first tied the
knot, with Grady coming along real soon afterwards. Me and him hadn't had
the chance to connect again like we'd grown to love doing, and I
reluctantly figured that chapter was as over as my marriage. I moved on,
moved out, and here we were, in my new bachelor pad, the ring off my
finger, my big kid - my big young man - standing before me shirtless and
sweaty and even more handsome than ever. My hand still on his
shoulder. That light in his eyes, that smile playing on his face.

The kiss seemed inevitable, but it was welcome, and that flood of feeling
and sensation came rushing back, that old vibe between us, as Grady stepped
in closer to me, deeper into the kiss, grunting softly as my hands came up
to cup the big, firm mounds of his ass. I could feel the hard press of his
big young cock again, nudging into mine and making me grunt this time, as
his big, capable arms wrapped around my waist and squeezed me, as his
tongue danced even more deeply with mine.

I started to ease us back towards my big new bed, but he stood firm.

"Nuh-uh," he said, grinning. "C'mon Dad - all the work we put in lugging
that fucking couch up three flights of stairs? Let's break that sucker in."

I couldn't help but laugh, and then we kissed some more, moving back down
the hallway to the living room. I hadn't put blinds up yet, so the room was
full of light and sound through the big open casement windows, the trees
rustling, people walking down the street, the warm summer breeze coming in
through the windows. Nobody could see us up here, and it felt liberating to
finally just be with my boy like this, tongue-dancing our way across the
freshly-refinished hardwoods to the big, solid couch.

I had the presence of mind to grab one of the moving blankets off the floor
and toss it over the couch, protecting the upholstery from our sweat. Grady
was chuckling at that when I grabbed the tired waistband of his saggy, sexy
old basketball shorts and yanked them down his long, strong thighs to the
floor. Then I gave him a good push - glad I'd kept up my workouts, because
my big kid was very much a big man now - and watched him flop back on the
couch, those big powerful thighs sprawling out, and a great big mound of
cock straining at the sweaty confines of his boxer briefs as he grinned up
at me. He looked incredible. I could feel my mouth water, as I stripped off
my sweaty tanktop, shucked my own shorts, and went for him.

He tasted as incredible as he looked, glazed with a fresh dew of sweat atop
the dried salt of older perspiration, and my hands and tongue roved freely
over the deep cuts of muscle that made up his incredibly sexy body, while
he moaned and cupped the back of my head, urging me on, tensing his muscles
up as I explored them.

"Nobody ever treats me as good as you, Dad," he moaned, and I slipped up to
kiss him and share his own salty musk in a deep, sloppy kiss of
gratitude. Then I leaned over into the fragrant, humid depth of his armpit,
the last traces of his deodorant sweated away, leaving behind the deep,
complex richness of his natural, manly tang.

"Fuck yessss," he hissed as he squirmed with pleasure, his big hands roving
over my older, thicker body. The body he'd have when he got to my age in
twenty-odd years - well, the hell with that, his would be better, I was
sure. But he seemed to like mine very much, and again, I was glad I'd been
inspired to double-down on my fitness regimen as a newly-divorced gay dude.

When I got done on his other pit, he dragged me up to kiss him again, and
our tongues battled thick and wet as we ground our raging cockbulges
together, humping slowly on the solidity of my new old couch. His big hands
slipped inside the back of my boxer briefs, cupping and squeezing my ass,
spurring me on to grind harder, flex deeper against him as we grunted and
growled and literally swapped spit.

"Fuck!" he growled, coming up for air, a wild look in his eyes that I
remembered well from our earlier times. He ran the flat of his tongue up my
jawline, over my cheek, collecting the trails of sweat, then kissed me
again, a little more softly this time.

"Makes me wish I was younger, Dad," he said. "No, you perv, not like
that... although..."

Another deep, slow, intimate kiss.

"So I could pick you, Dad," he went on. "Choose you to come live with. Like
Shannon chose to stay with Mom. Then you and me could just... be us,
y'know? We could just... be this."

I felt that flip in my gut again - a mix of love, of pride, and yes, of
course, the lusty part of my imagination picturing having that kind of
freedom with him. So I kissed him some more to show him how I felt.

"I would've loved that, buddy," I said when we resurfaced from the
kiss. "Just us guys, making this place a home."

"Ah hell, Dad," he growled, and I swore he looked a little misty-eyed.

But even then, he was tugging my boxer briefs down my sweaty ass, helping
me out of them, lifting his trim hips so I could return the favor. And then
we were naked, sliding sweatily back into each other, legs entwining, arms
squeezing, tongues slipping back into the warm, salty, spit-dripping depths
of each other's mouths. Our cocks throbbed naked and hard against each
other as we kissed and ground and squeezed and explored.

I could have done that all damn day, but then he wriggled his hips,
adjusted his position underneath me, clamped those muscular thighs around
my waist at a different angle, one that had the slow-leaking head of my big
Dad cock nudging into the sweaty, humid furriness of his ass. Nudging up
against that pulsing knot of muscle that led the way up inside of him, into
paradise.

"Shit, I don't know which box the lube is in, buddy," I said. He just
grinned that grin of his, eyes twinkling, as he reached down to the floor
for his shorts, coming up with a little tube of KY.

"I didn't know if this was gonna happen, or even could happen again, Dad,"
he said, with a mix of mischievousness and real feeling. "But I figured,
just in case... better have moving supplies ready, y'know?"

I growled lustily and kissed him again, and we kept on with that for quite
awhile longer, just enjoying the total freedom to take our time and enjoy
ourselves. No fear of Nicola or Shannon walking in on us, or his roommate,
or another patron at the gym, or a cop parking beside us. Just us. Father
and son. Free and together. And then he was uncapping the KY, pouring a
pool of it into his palm and reaching down between us, his eyes trained on
mine as he grinned with that mix of lust and excitement and boyish
nerves. But with the confidence of a young man underneath all that now,
too.

"But hey, I still got the right to choose, don't I?" he said
mischievously. "Maybe I can just come stay with you anyway. What do you
say, big guy?"

My heart thumped in time with the throb of my cock as he slicked it slowly,
lovingly, sensuously. He barely had time to glaze that tight, sweaty ring
of his before I was pressing the head of my cock against it, pushing my
tongue into his welcoming mouth at the same time as he relaxed and opened
up and let my cock inside of him.

"I say, my home is your home, Son," I grunted, loving the look on his face
as he experienced that rare pleasure of a man's cock sliding up into
him. My cock. His father's. The way his big blue eyes popped and then
locked onto mine, that mix of pleasure and surprise that he always got when
I filled him. Like he'd forgotten how amazing it could feel. Like he wanted
to rediscover it, just as much as I wanted to show him again.

"Fuck I love you, Dad," he moaned, craning his head up to kiss me as I
slipped all the way inside of him. Finding my way home in his depths.

"Fuck me good, Dad," he moaned again awhile later, once we'd found our
rhythm and were breaking another fresh sweat, all over each other this
time. "Fuck the cum out of me, Dad... make me cum on this heavy-ass fucking
sofa of yours... christen the son-of-a-bitch the right way..."

If I hadn't already been sailing pretty close to the wind, the horny, husky
depth of his voice, the things he was saying, the dirty way he always
talked to me in the throes of our incestuous fucklust, would have taken me
to the brink. I could feel my balls boiling. It had been too long, with
anyone, but mostly with him. I was more than ready for all of this.

"Fuck the cum out of me, Dad," he growled against my lips. "Because then
I'm gonna fuck the cum out of you, big guy... all over that nice new bed of
yours."

"Oh shit!" I yelled, not giving a damn about my new neighbors, as I felt my
whole body lock up in orgasm, and my cock begin to spurt thick ropes of cum
into my son's depths. I growled and grunted my way through my cum, and when
I reached for Grady's big, angry, leaking cock, all red-tipped and ready to
fire, he was right behind me, grunting and growling and spraying the
sweaty-shining muscles of his abs, crunching up even harder as he shot his
load over them and up to his big, twitching young pecs.

"Don't worry, I can recharge real quick, Dad," he grinned, panting. "Wanna
christen your new bed with you, just like this couch."

I shuddered with an aftershock, then chuckled and leaned in to kiss him,
slower, more languidly this time. His big thighs squeezed me, his heels and
muscled, hairy calves sliding slowly up and down the backs of my legs as my
body twitched more slowly, easing down into the afterglow.

"Our new bed, if you want, buddy," I said, before I could even really think
about it. But the way his eyes lit up made my heart pound with love for
him.

"Yeah, Dad?" he grinned. "Sounds like one hell of a custody arrangement."

"You kinky little fucker," I chuckled, kissing him some more.

"You got no idea, big guy," he said after that, that mischievous look in
his eyes. "Haven't had a lot of times together, have we? But we got lots of
time now. So let's get your sexy ass onto that new bed of yours, and I'll
show you."