Date: Thu, 10 Jun 2010 14:09:55 -0700 (PDT)
From: Dave Ledge <mikedave01@yahoo.com>
Subject: Dad Wrestles Me:  Round Three

      I'm still trying to figure out what happened yesterday.  My Dad, who
has been a bit distant my entire life and sort of authoritarian, just
opened up to me.  He's actually a good guy and pretty funny it seems.  He
and I have the same sarcastic humor.  Guess that's genetic, too.  Sort of
silly, though, for me to only find this out now.  I mean, I'm 20 years old
and he's 55.  Why couldn't he talk to me before now and be himself before
now?  Although to be fair, I'm not someone who talks about me much either.
Damn, guess we're alike that way, too.  However, why is it that we have to
just sort of appear to be there and not actually really interact and really
talk?  Fuck this culture some times.  And why did we have to fight to get
to this point?  I'm sorry; I'm pretty confused.  I'm trying to figure all
kinds of things out.  I mean I love my Dad and he loves me.  I've always
known that.  But I never thought of him as a person before, not really.  I
certainly never looked at him as having a strong body that could challenge
me.  I've never thought about guys as being sexual.  I've dated a lot of
girls, oops, young women.  They're hot. I love kissing them.  I love
playing with their bods, their pussies and their breasts.  I haven't gone
all the way with them yet but know it'll happen soon.  I've done everything
else besides that with them and them with me.  Enjoy that big time of
course!  So, why am I hard with my Dad in a way and situations that people
won't get?  I mean, he's a guy which is bad enough, but he's also old and
since he's my Dad, that means this is incest.  Oh my God.

      I'm trying not to reel from this.  I mean, I'm a college student
doing very well.  I'm not dumb.  My Dad is an engineer.  He's not dumb
either.  So, trying to figure this all out, maybe when kids are older and
just can accept their Dads as people with bodies, and Dads can accept their
Sons as adults with bodies, we can talk and do more?  I'm wondering if this
is really "incest" if both parties are of age and just having fun. I know
both Dad and me are having a great time and nothing is going on that
involves forcing each other to do anything.  We're both adults.  And, I'm
enjoying big time having a guy treat my body in a way that makes me respond
big time and am enjoying returning the favor since I know how a guy wants
to be treated.

      Still, I think I need a time out to think about this all.  I think I
have figured it out.  I mean, what turns you on and doesn't hurt anyone is
ok, right?  But Dad and I are Protestant Christians.  We'll have to figure
it out in that context, too.  Sigh.  But I'm still so into fighting Dad and
his big body and getting with him after.  Anyway, enough blogging. Let's
talk about what happened next.

      Dad and I couldn't get together again for over two weeks.  Sigh.
With his work schedule, my summer work schedule and the family activities,
just didn't happen. To say that I was horny beyond belief waiting for my
Dad to tell me about round 3 is a huge understatement.  I wound up forcing
myself to not jack off more than once a day.  I spent every hour I could
working out.  I wanted to be in top shape for whatever he had in mind.  I
was amused to see he was doing the same thing at different times (could
tell by the settings on the equipment in the gym) and saw no beer in the
fridge at all.  Finally he told me in passing after dinner one night that
our next match would be a boxing match!  He said, "Look, I know you've
wanted to hit me at times over the years.  I have, too.  We'll finally get
the chance to fight this way."

      What? I've never boxed.  I know it's a real skill. I know you have to
learn how to duck, how to retreat, how to move back before advancing.  That
is NOT fair.  I found some videos on boxing and studied them.  I knew I was
out of my league.  I finally got him alone and said, "Look, Dad, I've never
boxed.  If you have, this not a fair fight." He smiled as if he had
expected my complaint.  "No, I've never really boxed much either.  I've
done some sparring.  Tell you what, I'll make sure our gloves will make
this fair."

      He saw my expression of doubt.  He said, "It will be fair".  He then
left.  Well, Ok.  It's not as if I wouldn't do this anyway now.  I'm so
horny.  But I don't want to lose to him unfairly.  I'm not totally sure I
trust him anyway.  I think he really wants to beat me somehow still.  What
if he's had more experience than he's letting on boxing? What to do? I
finally remembered that one of my college friends who was from here and was
here in the summer had talked some time about boxing and how much fun it
was.  Ok.  I need help.  What kind of story can I invent to get help?  Oh
yeah, I do remember having seen some celebrity boxing matches with old
people; maybe my friend could teach me that level of skill?  Maybe I could
use that.  I found his number from the college web site and called. "Hey
Don", I said, "It's Dave Ledge from our college and our (blank) class.
"Hey Dave", he answered.  "Look, Don", I said. "I know this is sort of a
strange thing to ask, but do you have experience boxing?  I think I
remember you talking about boxing?" "Yeah", he answered, "I've done some,
good memory." "Well, Don, I'm not sure how to explain this.  I'm working at
the (blank) library this summer while home from school.  The library, God
only knows why, has decided to do a fund raising involving an amateur
boxing match, sort of like those boxing matches you see on TV with older
guys and women who used to be celebrities.  Well, I'm the only young guy in
the library in shape and I'm getting all kinds of pressure to be part of
this event, but I've never boxed in my life!  I'm sorry to ask you for
help, but I don't know who else to turn to and I would like to help the
library and not get killed in a boxing match!"

      I could almost hear his grin on the phone; hope that grin wasn't
because of my story.  Or maybe it was if he believed me!  We talked some
more and he finally figured out who I was.  He said, "Oh, you're the tall
and thin guy with the dark red hair?" "Yeah", I answered.  "Cool", he said.
He gave me directions to his place and the time to meet after our work.  He
sounded really excited about teaching me basic boxing and about being with
me.  I didn't know then what to think about this.  It sounded like he
wanted to see me for me somehow.  Couldn't quite imagine that. He must just
be bored being away from college and back here.

      I got to his place at the time we agreed upon.  He had a small
apartment.  Lucky guy to be able to have a place of his own, I thought.
Although living at home had had its advantages this summer, learning from
and being with Dad!  Grin.  After we shook hands and made some chit hat,
Don stopped talking and looked at me intensely.  I started to flush.
Couldn't quite figure out his stare. Maybe he figured I'd be a hopeless
boxer since I was so thin.  In contrast he was 5'8 with big shoulders, big
arms, dirty blond hair, blue eyes, real masculine face.  In fact, he looked
like a boxer, sort of the stereotype for boxers I'd seen in movies and on
TV.  Suddenly he said, "You aren't live, are you?" I looked at him in
confusion.  "I'm alive, I think!" trying to crack a joke.  "Sorry", he
said.
       He quickly changed the subject.  He sat me down on his couch and
started to explain what boxing was all about.  Damn, he knew his stuff.  He
talked about the different kinds of punches, what was legal and what was a
foul.  He explained the best ways to put a guy down.  He talked about ways
to avoid getting hit, especially getting hit hard, too.  Finally he said,
"Stand up.  Let's spar some".  We stood up and started to spar.  He'd stop
me constantly, correcting my stance, giving me advice on when to duck and
move back, helping me see what punches he was going to throw, doing a lot
of showing in slow motion, too.  We didn't actually touch each other then
when facing each other and throwing punches, although Don would stop and
come around behind me and move my arms into the right position some times.
He seemed to like doing that.  I was so focused on learning how to box so
my Dad didn't kill me, I barely noticed.

      Finally he said, "Ok, Dave, let's really spar, now".  He started
moving furniture in the living room to clear a bigger open space.  I helped
him of course, working with him.  He then left the room and returned a few
minutes later with two pairs of boxing gloves.  I started to worry then.
"Um, Don, you think I'm ready for this?" He smiled at me. "Sure Dave.
These are heavy training gloves.  Makes it harder to do real damage." He
saw my fear and grinned even bigger. "Besides", he said, "I'll take it easy
on you--at first." He laughed out loud at my gaping mouth.  "Gotcha", he
said.  He then talked about taping fists and types of gloves, talked about
how boxing gloves are different from MMA and other fighting gloves.

      "Ok", he said, "let's spar".  He stood up again and looked at me and
stripped his shirt off, followed by his jeans, standing in just his boxers,
and looked at me with that stare again.  "Damn, Don", I said, unable to
help myself, "you're ripped!" If I had thought he was the stereotypical
boxer before, he was now the quintessential.  He didn't have an ounce of
fat on him, strong shoulders, really strong arms and biceps, nice strong
chest with small nipples, strong stocky legs, lean waist, and an 8 pack.
Completely hairless guy, too.  He could be on the cover of some boxing
magazine!  He smiled again and said, "Yeah, boxing is my thing.  I love
being at the gym and working out to get ready to box.  I'll give you some
tips on how to workout to box later.  But get up and get ready to box now!
Drop the shirt and pants. You'll need to get used to being shirtless and
being shirtless helps you see the other guy's body and how to hit him
better." "Um", I said, "Shirt's no problem but I'm not wearing boxers.
I've got on briefs. Is that ok?" I mean with a cock like mine, wearing
boxers is like going commando.  I like it tucked up, out of the way.  I
could have sworn his eyes gleamed then.  "Doesn't matter", he said.  So, I
stood up, too, and stripped and yeah, I was a bit hard, but then stripping
was enough to make me a bit hard all by itself!  I was still completely in
my briefs anyway!

      Don gave me that stare again, sort of as if he was memorizing
something.  "Put on the gloves then".  We just put them on since we
couldn't lace them without help.  We then started to spar.  I felt sort of
funny at first sparring in my briefs but soon forgot to be self-conscious
since I was trying to defend myself from a real boxer.  He kept yelling at
me to do this and do that.  He yelled at me to keep up my guard and not
turn my back.  Fuck, this was hard work.  After ten minutes or so of
drilling me, he finally said it was time for a short break.  I was puffing
and panting then and my arms felt like they were on fire.  I was going to
be so sore later on, much less tomorrow.  Don was grinning at me again.
Damn.  At least he was sweaty, too, and his muscles were pumped, too.
"Ok", he said.  "This time I'm going to land a few punches on you.  You
need to know what it is like to get hit and hurt. It will be a shock.  You
gotta learn how to fight past the pain and come back with punches to hurt
the other guy, to get him back without losing your cool and your focus."

      Was I ready for this?  Hell, no.  But I'd do what it took to be able
to fight Dad.  We got back up and took the stance.  I could tell Don was
playing with me at first, getting me even tireder and waiting for me to
drop my guard.  Forget that. He was going to have to work at hitting me
hard.  I could tell that that pleased him.  He then started to show more of
his skill.  He started to tap me, getting inside my guard from time to
time.  I tried to counter punch and got lucky once, getting inside his
guard and smacking him hard in the chin which staggered him!  Once he
recovered he gave me the biggest smile yet and came at me hard.  I don't
know how long we traded blows.  Seemed like forever.  Finally he got
through my guard and hit me hard in the chin, too.  I staggered and fell.
Thank God I fell on the couch and not all the way to the floor.  In a haze
I could hear him counting to ten.  No, I'm not going to counted out.  I
staggered to my feet, still woozy, and then took up the stance to face him
again.  "Ok", he said.  "You pass.  You've got what it takes to fight." I
sort of stared at him in amazement then.  "Ok", he said again.  "Let me
show you what to do when you get hurt and need a few seconds to recover
before fighting again." He then approached me and took me into his arms in
a way that I couldn't use my arms at all.  I struggled to get out of his
bearhug, his embrace?  Oh, a clinch.  Of course that made my nearly naked,
sweaty, body grind against his rock hard boxer body.  Oh shit.  I'm going
to get hard.  I can't help it.  Between the fuck tough fighting, being
nearly naked, and now rubbing up against a hot body, I'm going to get hard
as shit.  Oh fuck.  Now he'll think I'm a fag and knock me out for real.

      To my surprise, Don didn't let me go.  I knew he had to feel my hard
cock hitting his belly.  Instead he rubbed me even harder with his body.
He must have stood on tip toes to put more of his body in contact with
mine.  If anything that realization made my cock even harder and it started
to push back my briefs and come out of them.  Don had to feel my big
mushroom cock head against his 8 pack!  He finally released me and stood
back to look at me.  "I see fighting turns you on, too".  With that he
dropped his boxers and showed me his entire, incredible, body.  He turned
around to give me the full 180.  "Damn", I said, "you could be the model
for some Greek or Italian statue".  The only thing marring the picture was
that he was totally hard and erect, not like a statue.  Grin.  His cock was
just as beautiful as the rest of him.  Not huge like mine, but in perfect
proportion to the rest of him.  He acknowledged the compliment and said,
"Lose the stupid briefs, Dave, and let me see what's been poking me in the
belly".  I knew I had to oblige but didn't think I had anything to show him
in comparison to his beauty.  He gasped when my cock sprang out though.
Now both of us totally naked he walked up to me and put his hand on my
cock, feeling it, stroking it.  I returned the favor and grabbed his much
smaller and thinner cock, but loved its hardness and how straight it stuck
out from his chiseled body.  I couldn't help but think, though, of my Dad's
cock when stroking Don.  However, he then did something to make me forget
Dad for a few minutes.  "Dave", he asked, "can I taste you?" How could I
say no to such a politely phrased request?  I nodded yes.  Then got on his
knees and went to town on my cock.  Mindblowing doesn't begin to describe
it.  He was fantastic!  He knew exactly what to do with my cock.  He was
even able to deep throat it, something I never believed anyone would be
able to do.  I got weak at the knees and had to lie down on the floor.  He
didn't miss a beat and kept working me over.  He finally stopped and told
me to let him know when I couldn't hold back any more.  After only a couple
of minutes more I knew I couldn't keep from cumming.  I yelled at him and
he took his mouth off me and leaned over me frantically jerking his own
cock off.  Without touching myself my cock started to spew hot cum all over
me and the living room.  Screaming out loud Don followed and pushed out
buckets of his boxer cum all over me, hitting my face and mouth even!  He
then collapsed on top of me, grinding our cum into his body.  WowÉÉ..

      Needless to say, I went back to Don's a couple of more times for more
lessons which I think he enjoyed as much as I did!  In fact, I think I'll
need more boxing lessons even after fighting Dad. Grin.  Anyway, the
fateful day finally arrived.  Dad had worked it out so we'd have some time
free on a Saturday afternoon together.  I had kept up my workouts and added
Don's exercises, too.  I felt in great shape and thought I was ready for
anything.  Famous last words?  Dad came to my room to get me.  I figured
we'd go downstairs to the gym and duke it out there.  To my surprise, he
told me to get in the car.  What?  He sort of grinned at me and didn't say
a word.  We both got in the car and he drove me across town.  We were in a
sort of working class neighborhood when he finally pulled up in front of an
average-looking house and parked the car and got out.  I got out, too, of
course.  I'd never been in this part of town.  Very strange.  What were we
doing here?  Dad still didn't say a word.  He went up the front steps of
the house and opened the front door which wasn't locked.  He went in and I
followed.  He opened a door off of what looked like an average living room
which had steps leading downwards.  I followed him downstairs.  He led me
to a small room and indicated I should go in.  I shrugged my shoulders and
went in.  He left me to go somewhere else.  I looked around the room and
saw a note.  It read, "You'll find your boxing trunks in the closet. Put
them on.  No shirt, no cup, jock, or underwear, just trunks.  When you're
dressed, meet me in the ring." What the fuck?  A ring???  What's going on
here?  Very confused and puzzled, I found the small closet and opened its
door.  The only thing in the closet was a pair of shiny blue trunks.  The
closet had a full-sized mirror in it and I saw reflected in it a puzzled 20
year old tall guy in a too tight tee shirt and 501 jeans.  All right.  This
is his rules as he said.  I stripped naked and (sorry) admired my body for
a minute.  The workouts had done their stuff.  I was more buff than ever.
Bigger pecs and arms especially. I started to see why Don liked me naked.
Anyway, enough of that.  I picked up the trunks and figured out how to put
them on.  I looked at myself in the mirror and did some flexes and then
some boxer stances.  Wow, I looked like the real thing!  The trunks were so
silky, it felt like I was wearing nothing at all.  In fact I felt more
naked than when I was naked with just the material around me and nothing
else! The only problem was that trunks were a bit too loose in the waist.
Maybe they were Dad's I laughed.  However the thought turned me on a bit,
too.  No, no.  No getting hard in loose silky trunks before fighting!  I
thought of my physics class at college and math class. That did it.  I
calmed down and then noticed there were no boxing shoes or boots.  Well,
barefoot it would be then.  I was finally ready to find the "ring".  I went
out of the small (dressing?) room and walked down a dark hall.  I found a
door at the end of it and opened it.

      Holy shit! There was real ring in front of me.  It was off the
ground, it had real ropes and turnbuckles.  The room was brilliantly lit
and there were mirrors around the walls.  The ring looked full size, just
like something you'd see on TV.  I think I stood there stunned for a full
minute.  Ok.  He's really trying to psyche me out this time.  Get over it,
I thought. I walked around the ring and saw some steps to climb up in it.
I climbed up them carefully and entered the ring between the second and top
ropes.  I walked around it and saw one corner had blue turnbuckles.  Cute,
I thought.  That's my corner I guess.  I went and stood in the blue corner
and waited with my heart pounding and my stomach in knots.  Was glad I
hadn't eaten lunch after all!  The last time I was this nervous was before
a solo in high school.

      I didn't have to wait long.  After a couple of minutes a guy I had
never seen before opened the door to the ring room and walked in.  He
nodded to me and climbed into the ring and stood in the middle to let me
study him.  All right, now I'm seriously psyched out.  This guy appeared to
be in his 40s.  Nice looking guy, in serious shape.  He was wearing too
tight black pants and a striped referee's shirt that clung to his masculine
body.  A referee's shirt? Ok. Now I'm seriously psyched out.  Dad hired a
fucking boxing referee to ref our fight?  What the fuck?  My expression
must have been priceless.  I looked at the guy again and could tell it was
only with a struggle that he wasn't smiling or even laughing out loud at
me.  I scowled at him big time.  But that only seemed to amuse him more.
That made him look almost handsome for such a rugged, masculine, guy, about
my height.  I could guess that if he smiled for real it would transform
him.  Other than that and his in-shape body, sort of a normal-looking guy,
maybe Italian?  Dark brown hair cut short, brown eyes, square jaw, but I
could see some brown chest hair curling over his ref shirt collar.  A hairy
chest?  Hmm.

      My study of him was interrupted by music suddenly blaring out of
speakers mounted on the wall.  Oh, give me a break, it was "Rocky's theme".
How amazingly cheesy!  That reduced my tension and relaxed me as I tried
not to smile.  I couldn't wait to see what would happen next.  Finally as
the music climaxed, the far door opened and there was Dad shuffling in with
a robe on.  He stopped from time to time and did boxer poses and some
punching.  He waved to his (imaginary) audience.  Finally he climbed into
the ring and went to the far corner across the ring from me.  Ok.  Full
marks from me for all of this.  Dad let his robe come open to show off his
barrel chest.  The ref motioned us to come together in the middle of the
ring.  As the ref went over the rules, "no hitting below the belt", etc. my
Dad and I tried to stare each other down.  This was hot.  Before he started
up the staring challenge, however, I could tell he saw the change in my
body and approved.  Eventually the ref finished and motioned us to our
corners.  He helped Dad out of his robe and Dad flexed for me.  Cool!  His
body was now better, too.  He had lost some of his gut and his guns were
bigger and harder.  He was wearing light yellow trunks that showed off his
package, too! What a hot man to have for a Dad!  I noticed the ref was
looking him over, too.  The ref had a strange expression.  I couldn't quite
read it.  It was sort of if the ref was possessive of Dad, as if he was
proud of him or something.  It was certainly clear he knew Dad and knew him
well.  What was up with that?

      "Ladies and Gentlemen", the ref called out to the "crowd".  "Today's
main event features a Father and Son Battle that will determine who is the
better man in the family.  Today's event will be five rounds of three
minutes each with the final round having special rules if there is no
winner before then.  In the blue corner we have the Son, Davey Ledge,
standing 6 feet tall and one half inch and weighing in at 175 pounds with a
wrestling record of 4 wins and 4 losses and a boxing record of no wins and
no losses.  Please welcome Davey to the ring!" How did he know I had gained
some muscle weight?  He had my weight exactly right.  Oh well. I lifted my
arms and strutted around the ring acknowledging the cheers of the imaginary
crowd.  The ref continued, "And Ladies and Gentlemen, in the opposite
corner, wearing the yellow trunks we have the Father, Jay Ledge, standing 6
feet and two inches tall and weighing in at 210 pounds with a wrestling
record of 10 wins and five losses and a boxing record of 2 wins and 2
losses." Well, my Dad had lost weight for sure then.  But what?  My Dad had
actually wrestled and boxed before he wrestled me?  Who had been his
opponent?  I saw my Dad smile at the ref as if remembering something very
pleasurable.

      Duh, how could I be so blind!  This must be the refs' house and my
Dad must have wrestled and boxed the ref here in the ref's ring!  Suddenly
the looks my Dad and the ref gave each other made total sense.  Oh well, no
time to think about that now.  The ref motioned me over and pulled out some
enormous gloves from the floor below.  They looked like the gloves foxy
lady boxers use in Vegas!  I suddenly understood my Dad's words when he
said that we would be safe when boxing.  He put them on me and another pair
on Dad and then laced them up.  I was sort of disappointed then.  I had
gotten set for a real fight with Dad and was prepared to win or lose.  No.
I stopped the ref and looked at Dad.  I said, "Dad, I know you don't want
me to get hurt because you've had experience boxing and I haven't" and I
scowled at him then, "but I've been working out with a buddy and I want to
use real gloves.  I want us to fight like real men." Dad beamed at me with
approval and motioned to the ref to take off the big gloves.  The ref
replaced them with standard boxing gloves and laced them up.  He got us to
the middle of the ring again, put our outstretched hands together for a
bump and then said, "Fight!"

      I came out of the corner fast and circled my Dad.  Don't forget to
keep low and keep back, I told myself.  Keep your neck loose and ready to
recoil and duck.  Don't give him a big target to hit.  Keep your body
tucked in and low.  Remember he probably has longer arms than you do so he
can hit you from farther away than you can hit him.  While all these
thoughts were going through my mind we kept circling each other, seeing
what the other was capable of, trying to scout out weaknesses, neither one
of us ready to land a blow yet, as if that would cross some unseen line
from which we could never return.  Finally the ref lost his
patience. "Gentlemen, fight!" he yelled. Ok, here goes, I have to throw the
first punch.  I tried a few left jabs which Dad blocked and he sent some
right jabs at me.  Oh shit, don't forget Dad is left-handed!  Shit, Don,
where are you, how do I handle that?  There suddenly was a serious flaw in
my training.  At that point I back peddled even more and just tried to move
around the ring as much as possible trying to tire out my Dad before he
could move in on me.

      Suddenly the ref stepped between us putting his hand on our chests
(how did he manage to brush both my nipples that way?) and said, "Cease,
Gentlemen.  Round one is over. You may retire to your corners for one
minute's rest." Jeez, where did this guy get his lines, from the Marquis of
Queensbury?  I looked at him with my eyebrows raised and he finally gave me
his full smile.  Fuck, his face was totally transformed.  What a good-
looking masculine man!  I then realized, that, yes, he DID get his lines
from the Marquis of Queensbury, the 18th century founder of modern boxing.
Who was pulling whose leg now?  Well, I had to figure out how to fight a
guy who was doing everything opposite to what I knew.  I knew Dad's
strength from wrestling and arm wrestling him.  With real gloves he could
really pound me if I let him inside my guard, especially with his longer
reach.  OK, Dave, reverse your defense.  Expect right jabs and left hooks
and left uppercuts.  Too soon, the ref. called out of us, "Gentlemen, it is
time to resume." We both stood up and approached each other.  Dad took the
offensive quickly.  He started to work me a bit.  I had to scramble to
avoid a decisive punch.  I was ducking and weaving and dancing around the
ring.  I made Dad chase me.  Despite all my efforts, though, I was getting
beaten.  I was at least losing on points.  A couple of times, I wasn't
ready for the reverse punches I knew I should be expecting.  I wasn't
really hurt yet but this was not good.  I was so glad when the ref called
time.

      The third round was even worse.  About halfway through the round Dad
caught me with a real uppercut to the chin.  I fell to the canvas (real
canvas!).  I had to stagger to my feet.  The ref. pushed me over to my
corner and let me catch my breath.  He asked me if I wanted to continue.
Give up?  Forget that.  Dad would have to knock me out before I'd give up.
And it looked like he would.  I backpeddled and wove and ducked even harder
for the rest of the round and he didn't land another killer blow.  I was
getting more tired out than he was though.  If I was going to survive the
fourth round I'd have to change my strategy.  And what the fuck were
special rules if I made it to the fifth round?  I hadn't paid attention to
that when the ref announced the fight, another mistake?

      Ok, the fourth round, the last normal round before special rules.  I
was going to have to fool Dad somehow if I was going to make it to the last
round.  I started out the same way as the last two rounds, trying to make
him believe I was just trying to survive the fight and last him out.
Finally, about two-thirds of the way through the round, I decided to make
my move.  I caught Dad huffing and puffing from chasing me and I suddenly
went on the offensive with every bit of offense I had.  I feinted.  I
jabbed.  Finally I went for the coup de grace and it fuck landed!  A look
of shock appeared on his face.  He teetered and finally fell to the canvas!
His turn!  The ref came over to him with a look of concern but he started
the ten count. Maybe I had finally won?  Maybe I was going to be the man in
the family?  But, oh shit, Dad's shaking it off.  He was back on his feet
by the count of seven and the ref pushed him into his corner to give him
breathing time.  The round was almost over by the time we went back at it.
After the ref called time, all I could think was so, what now?

      We both went to our corners breathing heavily.  Well, no matter what
happened in the last round, I had to have earned some real respect from my
Dad.  I had taken up his challenge.  I had learned how to box well enough
to survive his challenge.  I had gotten back up from a killer punch and I
had even gotten through his guard to land my own killer punch.  Well,
whatever else happens, I'm proud of myself.  I've learned a lot about
myself this summer.  I now really know that I can do whatever it takes.  I
can work hard in all kinds of ways and persevere in all kinds of things.  I
also have learned how much I admire my Dad, and yeah, love him.  I mean how
many 55 year olds could box a four round match with a young in-shape guy
and go toe to toe with him?  I just realized I was proud of him, too.
Weird thought.

      While all of these thoughts were pouring through my brain I realized
the ref was standing up and motioning us to the center of the ring.  He
looked at us and carefully not smiling said, "Well, Gentlemen.  You have
proved yourselves as mighty warriors and you have fought well.  You are
both strong and doughty men (did he just say that word?).  You both deserve
to be admired and I do admire you both (was there a grin in there
somewhere?).  However there is yet no victor.  The father (as he pointed to
Dad) was well ahead on points after the first three rounds.  However the
son (as he pointed to me) mounted such a strong comeback in the fourth that
the points are now the same.  Thus we must have a final round with special
rules." He looked at us both quite intensely.  He then came up to me,
looked at me, and then pulled my trunks down and made me step out of them.
I was now naked, dressed only in boxing gloves.  He then went up to Dad and
stripped him, too.  I could tell the ref was trying very hard not to ogle
us both.  "The last round is a sexfight.  I will get you both hard and then
you must fight each other to try to make each other cum.  The first person
to cum will lose the match and lose the title of "man in the family".  I
will also be privileged to intervene in the match if I see that there is
some inequality." Holy shit again.  Dad is so good at these and I have
fucking boxing gloves on and I can't cheat and finger him.  If I hadn't
jacked off before lunch I'd be dead.  However, I still don't think I can
win.  And if this guy who knows Dad takes Dad's side?  As if the ref was
reading my thoughts he said, "I will make this round as fair as the
others."

      Well what now?  Now that I was naked and knew the rules for the final
round my cock started to respond to being freed.  It wasn't full mast but
half.  My Dad's cock started to inflate some, too. I tried, again to think
of physics and math classes, but that wasn't going to do it.  My hot Dad I
had just fought to a draw in a way I didn't know how to do was going to try
to make me cum and yeah, I wanted to cum and have Dad make me cum.  This is
not going to work.  The ref again seemed to sense my thoughts.  He looked
at us both and said, "If you both are naked then I need to be naked, too so
that I can act with maximum efficiency as needed." I think I stopped
breathing as he stripped off his tight ref's shirt.  Wow, oh wow oh wow!
This was the man I wanted to be.  His chest was very furry with dark, dark,
brown hair.  His pecs stood out and his dark nipples were sticking out big
time from very big bases.  His waist narrowed dramatically.  He then
shucked his tight black pants to show a very nice crotch with a cock
growing every second over very strong legs.  This would be one serious
fucker to mess with in a fight of any kind.  He stretched and showed his
big biceps.  He then smiled his smile which lit up the already bright room.
He came to me first and didn't touch my cock.  He just touched my nipples
and then rubbed his chest and nipples against mine.  In half a second I was
totally hard and throbbing.  He beamed his smile at me and went over to
Dad. Dad groaned just looking at him.  He leaned over Dad and swallowed
Dad's cock whole!  Damn, he was as good as Don, if not better.  I could see
he was doing something with his throat, too.  He put his hands on Dad's
chest and pulled his nipples and then reached his hand around to Dad's ass.
I couldn't see all of what he was doing but it must have been damn
effective.  In less than two minutes Dad's cock matched mine. "Damn,
Steve", Dad said.  "You're so fuckin' hot and you know exactly how to push
all of my buttons." Steve didn't bother to respond.  He knew it was the
truth.

      "Ok Gentlemen", Steve the now naked and furry ref said, "For this
last round you may use any tools at your disposal to make your opponent
cum, but your hands will remain gloved.  If neither has cum at the end of
this round I will declare this match a draw and you must find another way
to settle your family dispute.  And if that is the case, I will take you
both into the showers to make sure you leave this house quite satisfied."
Fuck, it just needed that to make me throb worse.  To imagine this
extremely hot and masculine man sucking me off (or whatever it took to make
me satisfied) would be a dream fulfilled.  Thank God that Dad looked the
same as me.  Of course, he had to have experienced Steve, from what I
gathered.  So, he didn't have to imagine it.  He knew how good Steve was.

      Steve called time and pushed us to the center of the ring.  We didn't
want to touch each other now.  We knew each other's bodies and cocks
already and we knew how hot the other was and how incredible our cumming
together had been.  We knew our big twin cocks would turn each other on so
that we'd cum.  Ok, I thought.  This is going to take a reverse thought
again just as figuring out my Dad's left-handed punches.  How can I not cum
when I desperately want to?

      Once Steve told us to fight I took the initiative and hit myself
hard. Damn that hurt.  I'm stronger than I think.  I can now see how I took
Dad down last round.  I waited a few seconds while Dad and Steve stared in
amazement and punched myself again.  Wow, I was in pain.  My cock started
to go down in reaction.  A few more seconds later I gave myself a third
punch.  My cock went down to normal in reaction to all of the pain I had
self-inflicted.  I thought then about knocking myself out but wasn't sure
what the other two men would do if I was unconscious.  Maybe they would
cheat and jack me off and make me cum?  I couldn't be sure.  I'm glad I
didn't because Steve sprang into action.  "Oh no, you don't", he said.
Suddenly I had this super hot furry naked man try to hold my fists in his
and keep me from hitting myself.  Well, who would not respond to that? He
rubbed his naked body frontally totally against mine as he grabbed my
wrists.  My cock responded to him almost instantly.  I had to do something
now!  "Quick", I said, "Dad's going to do the same thing!" He looked across
at Dad who had been stunned by the events and had his fists in the air.  It
did look like he might hit himself, too.  Steve left me alone then and
quickly ran across the ring and tackled Dad to the mat and got Dads' wrists
in a hold while he was on top of Dad in something close to a schoolboy pin.
Steve's long and thin cock was now near Dad's mouth.  Yeah, Steve was still
totally hard.  Dad gulped.  This was so hot that I had to turn around and
punch myself again.  I kept punching myself looking at the canvas floor and
not at the mirrors.  I finally went down again.  I wondered why Steve
didn't try to stop me.  Finally I peeked at the mirrors.  From what I could
see Dad had Steve in his mouth!  What?  My Dad's a cocksucker?  To my
surprise that didn't repulse me.  Maybe I had wanted to suck Don's cock in
response to him sucking me?  This is going to take some time to figure out
I suddenly realized.  I suddenly also had an evil thought.  If I went over
now and sucked on Dad's huge cock when he couldn't fend me off with his
mouth on Steve's cock I'd win.  I'd get him off just from the shock of it I
thought.  I'd never had a cock in my mouth and before I'd started fighting
with Dad couldn't have imagined doing that.  Now, I knew I could do that
easily if it helped me win a fight.

      I desperately wanted to win this fight and put Dad down.  I mean I
was still angry from his choice of boxing and how tough this match had
been.  At the same time I wouldn't have gotten to know Don and wouldn't be
in such great shape if he hadn't decided for us to box.  I also have to
admit that it was supremely satisfying to hit Dad hard and knock him to the
floor.  Finally, I wouldn't have gotten to know Steve and could look
forward to knowing him better if I allowed this match to be a draw.  Ok, my
cock won.  I had seen what Steve did to my Dad's cock. I wanted to feel
that, too.  So, I just sat there and got hard again but didn't touch my
cock until I judged the three minutes were up.

      "Forgive me referee, sir", I said, imitating the ref's British
pluminess, "has the round ended yet?" Steve gave me a glare since his cock
was still in Dad's mouth and he seemed close to cumming.  However, he
remembered what the afternoon was about.  He glanced at his watch.  "Yes,
Davey the Son, it does appear that this round is finished and that neither
of you has cum.  Thus it is my responsibility to make sure you both cum in
the showers before you leave my humble abode." Hot damn!  Not only had I
survived this match, but I was going to get sucked off by a master and I
could look forward to another match with my Dad.  Sweet!

	Steve climbed off my Dad who looked embarrassed.  I refused to
acknowledge that. "C'mon Dad, Steve's going to do us!" I said.  He grinned
then, knowing I wasn't judging him (yet!).  We all three went into the big
shower room Steve had set up next to the ring. Um, yes, Steve wasn't
married, was he?  He lived in a run down neighborhood in a small house but
had set up a fantastic ring and showers in the basement.  Ok, we'll figure
this out later.  Right now, I want to get sucked and cum. Today had been
overwhelming in so many ways.  Time to have pure and simple intense
pleasure.

	Steve had other ideas.  He got us into the showers and started to
take command.  "Dad and Son", he said, "Wet my hairy body down and then rub
every inch of my body with soap." I didn't think this was how it was
supposed to work.  Wasn't he supposed to work on us?  Whatever.  Dad and I
had separate bars of soap.  We started to soap Steve up.  Despite myself I
found it hot to get his hot hairy body white with soap.  Dad and I had to
rub Steve's body and our own bodies together to get every inch soapy.
Finally we both soaped up Steve's cock and then stuck both of our fingers
in Steve's ass.  Steve looked at our hard bodies, our hard cocks and
finally let himself go from one of the hottest Dad and Son workovers ever.
He screamed so loudly as he came that I was very glad we were below ground!
He finally came back to earth and grinned at us both evilly.  "I'm now
going to do the impossible", he said.  He put us side to side with our hard
cocks both sticking out straight.  He then tried to put both our cocks in
his mouth and swallow us both.  Dad and I clutched each other together and
put our chests and hard nipples together as we let Steve try to glue us
together in a new way.  I suddenly had a desire to kiss Dad in a French
kiss and fight with him with my tongue to see who could conquer the other
man's mouth.  He suddenly opened his eyes and mouth and looked at me as if
he had read my mind.  However, at this point Steve finally won.  He had
gotten us so hot that we were ready and he took both his hands and stuck
them up each of our butts in such a surprise that we suddenly both came and
flooded his mouth.

	I think Dad and I both screamed out loud, too.  Steve was so full
of cum he could just grunt.  Finally he got us to our feet and him as well
and he kissed each of us open mouthed full of our mixed cum.  I was
horrified and yet turned on.  What was going on?  I was feeling all kinds
of new things sexually.  I'm sorry; I just can't process this.  I sort of
shut down.  I think Dad and Steve understood this.  They sort of drew back
and gave me space while being very affectionate towards me.  That really
helped.  I finally started to thaw out again and soon it was time to leave.
Dad and I were clean enough since we had showered and Steve had swallowed
our cum and it wasn't all over us.  So, we could put on the clothes we wore
when we arrived.  We got ready to go.  Dad went out to get the car and
Steve took me aside.

	Steve gave me a big hug.  He looked me in the eyes.  "Davey, if you
need to talk, I'm happy to talk.  But I want you to know I love your Dad,
maybe in ways you don't.  But that's ok. I do know that he's always loved
you so very intensely.  He now loves you as an equal and a grown man son,
too. He loves your family and will take care of them.  He's an amazing man.
I think you're going to be one, too. Thanks for listening."

	So, there it was.  Dad and Steve were lovers.  I wasn't sure how
that made me feel.  I did feel a bit jealous of both of them.  Wow, that
was honest.  How could they both be so hot and have each other?  How could
I have never had anyone?  What about Don?  Could he be the buddy for me
like Steve was for Dad?

	I got in the car and was silent during the drive home. Today was
just too much.  Finally as we drove into our driveway Dad said the one
thing I needed to hear.  Damn, he must understand me and love me.  "Steve
said his younger brother was going to be here next weekend and was hoping
that he and Steve could take us on in a tag team wrestling match?  And boy,
don't forget we still have a fight to finish, too."

Yes!