Date: Fri, 19 Jun 2015 08:34:22 +0000 (UTC)
From: Robert Furlong <robert.furlong@rocketmail.com>
Subject: Doing the Dirty Part 2

DOING THE DIRTY PART 2
by Robert Furlong
robert.furlong@rocketmail.com
robertfurlong.tumblr.com

===

It's odd but strangely compelling to watch your own son masturbating right
there in front of you.  I was fascinated to see how different his technique
was from my own – his hand seemed so much more frantic and his fingers
more agile – while marvelling at so many physical similarities between
us.

His cock was ever so slightly bigger than mine, but other than that our
organs were almost identical in every respect.  His bulbous helmet was a
deep shiny purple the way mine gets when I'm pleasuring myself, while the
great, swollen shaft of his manhood had only the same, light coursing of
veins that mine has.  He had a raised thick ridge running down the
underside of his erection every bit as prominent the one I have, and his
balls were as fat and as full as mine swell to: almost bulging with his
semen which would no doubt be just as copious and strong-smelling as my
own.

What was truly riveting, though – even more than watching my son's hand
sweeping so impatiently up and down his imposing hard-on – was the sight
of his arsehole between his splayed legs.  It was red and swollen and
puckered prominently outwards through the dense wiry fur of his butt-crack.
Jake liked to be fucked – he made no secret of that – and the
conspicuous bloat of his anus made it obvious that he'd recently been on
the receiving of a large number of young men's cocks just as big and thick
and demanding as his own.

He saw my interest in watching him jerking off, no doubt following my eyes
from his impressive erection down to his largy puffy ring protruding
outwards from the forest between his cheeks.  He grinned and licked his
lips, enjoying throwing his dad a masturbatory show, and his arsehole
opened wide of its own accord, gaping to the diameter of a modestly-sized
penis.

I could see what he meant about feeling that something was 'missing' when
he had sex which didn't include his backside.  His bum kept clamping open
and closed as if trying to squeeze the shaft of one of his friend's cocks
and seeming frustrated that it remained empty.

"Come on, then, dad," he laughed over at me.  "Join in with me – it'll
be fun to wank off together!"

I hitched my trousers down to my knees and he chuckled at the size of his
old man's hard-on straining inside his tight white briefs.  The tip of it
had made a large round damp patch and the darkening head of it could be
seen through the translucent material.

"I don't know why we've never done this before," he said.  "All the years
we've lived together."

I smiled back at him, pulling my briefs down to join my trousers around my
knees.  "I don't think it's quite the done thing, Jake.  It's not what one
might call a typical father-and-son activity."

He chortled at that, still pumping his large cock.  "Maybe not, but it
should be.  Have you ever wanked off with another dude?  In a non-sexual
sense, I mean?"

I laughed over at him, pulling my foreskin back from the ripened head of my
cock and jerking it a few times along the thickened shaft.  "How do you
wank off with a guy in a non-sexual sense?"

"I mean, not as part of the two of you having sex.  Just the two of you as
friends, enjoying a wazz-off together."

I shook my head, gently massaging my cock in what was a pale imitation of
my son's rapid and energetic foreskin-yanking technique.  "No, I can't say
I've done that.  Have you?"

"Yeah, loads of times," he grinned.  "With different mates at different
times.  At scout camp... during stopovers... anytime me and a mate were
sharing a room.  Sometimes just for the hell of it when we were bored."

"You and your friends have masturbated together?"

"Yeah," he nodded.  "Not touching each other or anything – just having a
wank in front of each other.  It's nice... kind of intimate without
being... you know... 'gay' or anything.  There's nothing deep or meaningful
about it... it's just... I dunno... a 'bro' thing maybe."

"It sounds nice," I agreed.  "I can understand the appeal."

"A bit like this," he smiled.  "Just the two of us doing something private
and sexy together which doesn't mean anything more than what it is."

"Absolutely," I smiled back.  "We go to the loo in front of each other... I
suppose this isn't hugely different."

"Sit up like I am," he suggested.  "Open your legs wide like mine so your
balls hang low."

I did as he was asking, pushing my trousers and underwear down to my
ankles.  Now I knew it was no accident that he was letting me see his
arsehole: he was sitting that way deliberately because he wanted to see
mine.

I squatted upwards with my legs wide open and he peered into the hairiness
of my crack underneath where my big, heavy balls were dangling between my
thighs.  I knew my hole would look just as large as his and I pushed my
hips forwards to flaunt it for him, making it emerge from between my cheeks
like a pink puckered hoop.

His mouth formed into a broad smirk and he tittered, "Bloody hell, dad!
You can see you like a big dick up you!  Your arsehole's massive!"

"Er... pots and kettles spring to mind, Jake!  Yours is hardly a tight
little balloon knot."

He laughed and groped under his knackers to feel at how large and round his
own tush was.

"Oh yeah," he chortled, "it is pretty shameless really!  I'm gonna end up
with mudflaps if I'm not careful!"

He rubbed his finger around his flagrant swollen gape and asked, "Do you
like it when a guy's arse is really loose and stretched open like mine is,
or do you prefer it when he bends over and he's got a little tiny clenched
freckle?"

"I can't say it's a big deal to me, Jake, but I suppose it puts less
pressure on me to know that the bloke I'm with has had some experience of
having another man... you know... mount him."

"For me, it's a case of the smaller the better," he grinned.  "I like it
when I'm rimming a dude's arse and his butthole's so clamped up I can't
even get my tongue up it!  And then when I'm fucking him, I love it when
it's so small and tight it can squeeze my cock so hard the shaft comes out
purple!"

I grinned and glanced at my over-sized shaft as I wanked it.  "That's fine
in theory, but I like to be sure that I'm going to be able to work this
huge thing up the other fella's chuff!  There's nothing as frustrating as
having to give up because your buddy's back-end is way too narrow."

"I know what you're saying," he nodded, "but I prefer to take the risk!  I
like the lad I'm with to be a bit... you know... virginal, maybe.  A big
chubby cock out front, but a cute little crinkle round the back!  I hate
prizing a lad's arse cheeks apart and finding he's been such a total tart
that he's got a train-wreck of a boycunt that looks like you could get a
tree-trunk up it!"

I flinched at his use of the c-word before teasing him, "Talk about double
standards, Jake!  I mean, yours is hardly virginal!"

"I know," he grinned, fondling his own not unsubstantial boycunt again with
an outstretched finger.  "I've just overdone it a bit, but it'll soon
shrink back."

"Overdone it a bit?"

He chuckled and threw me a naughty look with a rather delightful twinkle in
his eye.  "The night before I came home was... well... let's just say it
was a good one!"

We kept masturbating and smiling at each other, my hand slowly picking up
speed and pumping more and more of my length although his was clearly way
out front on both counts.

He was right: it was nice to stimulate ourselves in front of each other.
We were very close as father and son and perhaps it was natural for us to
occasionally include self-gratification among the wide range of things we
did together.  It didn't feel particularly 'wrong' to see my son in front
of me enjoying rubbing his erection and it didn't feel improper for me to
be pleasuring my own with him looking on.

There was actually something rather cosy to know that we were sufficiently
comfortable and confident around each other to be doing something so
private together like this.  I liked the sensation and hoped we could
repeat it again.

"So how was your last night in Leeds a good one?" I asked him with my hand
steadily sliding up and down my engorged shaft.  "Come on, give me
details!"

"There were five of us," he grinned, his own fist easily outpacing his
father's rhythm.  "We all did each other... took it in turns."

"You had four different dicks up there?" I chuckled.  "No wonder it's
stretched to buggery... if you'll... er... pardon the pun..."

"Have you ever heard of doing a centipede?" he asked with a cheeky smirk.

"No," I admitted.  "But I don't think it takes a huge leap of the
imagination to figure out what it involves."

"It was more funny than sexy.  The five of us walking around like that, all
joined together with our dicks up each other's butts, thrusting against
each other in a sort of pulsating row."

I grinned across at him.  "It sounds like quite a sight."

"My flatmates thought it was hilarious," he smirked back, reaching down
between his legs again to probe the swollen ring nestling between his hairy
cheeks.  He eased a finger into its puffy round entrance, clearly enjoying
the memory of having the guy behind him connect their bodies together by
working his erection up it.

"You let your flatmates see you?" I asked.

"Yeah," he laughed.  "We were a bit drunk – totally hammered, actually –
and when we saw how awesome we looked, the five of us lads linked together
hip-to-butt, we waddled out into the common room like some weird ten-legged
five-headed creature."

"Oh my God!" I couldn't help but laugh back.  "How many guys were in
there?"

"It wasn't just guys – some of them had their girlfriends over.  There
were maybe like ten or twelve people in there."

"Wow!"

"They'd all had a few bevvies too, so they were up for having a laugh.
Some of them were actually filming us on their phones!"

"And you paraded around in front of them?" I asked.  "The five of you
having sex in a row?"

"Yeah," he grinned, with his cock throbbing as he jerked its thick,
delicately veined shaft and his anal ring gaping outwards as he teased it
with his finger.  "We did it so they could see we were doing it for
real... really exaggerating our movements so they could see our boners
sliding in and out of each other's hairy butt-cracks!"

"Weren't you embarrassed?"

"Not at all!" he chortled.  "It was really horny – especially letting
the girls look at me like that.  Having them see me with some dude's big
thick cock wedged between my cheeks and with mine pushed up the arse of the
guy in front.  It felt totally hot, actually!"

"And how did they all react?" I laughed, my own hand speeding up on my
hugely engorged manhood.

"The guys got pretty rowdy," he chuckled back.  "They were cheering and
calling out stuff, telling us to do it faster and to fuck each other
harder.  The girls were just laughing... I think they were getting
turned-on, actually... watching five fit lads go at it on each other's
tight butts!"

"I bet some of the guys were too!"

"Yeah, they probably were!" he tittered.  "I reckon some of them asked
their girlfriends if they could do it leapfrog-style that night to relive
the moment!"

I laughed and he asked, "So what's the most outrageous thing you've ever
done, dad?"

I smiled and replied, "I think masturbating with my son must be up there
somewhere!"

He grinned and I saw him work the whole length finger into his inflamed
hole.  He left there momentarily and then slid it almost out.  Then in
again, and back out to the knuckle, until he'd established a slow,
deliberate rhythm of stimulating his bum.

He closed his eyes and muttered, "That feels really nice!"  Then his pace
rapidly quickened and he started fingering himself with much faster,
rougher strokes.  He sighed, "Aaah... that is so good," still with his eyes
closed, and I suddenly caught a whiff of my son's characteristically
odorous behind, smelling much cruder and harsher than my own ever does and
reminding me of our bathroom after he's finished one of his long stints in
there.

He saw me watching him indulging in a rampant bout of anal fingering in
front of his old dad, and said, "Sorry, but I really need my tush tickled
when I jack off!"

I chuckled and shrugged.  "Don't apologise, Jake.  It's perfectly natural."

He grinned naughtily and said, "In that case... d'ya wanna join me?"

I wavered and he glanced at my large yawning hole, puffed outwards and no
doubt looking like it could use a little probing of its own, before
quipping, "I mean, it does make it feel a hell of a lot better!"

"I am rather aware of that," I smirked.

"Well, what's stopping you, then?  Like you say, it's perfectly natural..."

I reached down and extended my middle finger to delicately caress my plump
puckered hole.  Jake peered at me, his mouth breaking into a smirk, as I
gently rubbed my gaping entrance with my other hand slamming up and down
the huge girth of my shaft.  Smiling back at him, I circled it a few times,
making the thin flimsy skin around my anus puff outwards as it swelled and
ripened, while the tight ring of muscle in the middle unclenched and gaped
open as if inviting me to ease my finger inside.

"God, seeing you do that looks so fucking hot!" Jake called over to me with
his mouth broadly grinning in enthusiasm.  Then, anticipating my
disapproval, added, "I mean you look hot in a totally... you
know... paternal way!"

I chuckled at the absurdity and slowly eased my finger into my
cock-loosened sphincter.

"Aah yeah!" I sighed as my finger pushed deep up inside my well-used
arsehole.  Then, pulling it out again, added, "That feels really good!"

I started sliding it in and out with a steady rhythm, allowing my momentum
to increase as I relaxed into the strange sensation of having my son watch
me masturbate myself anally as well as in the conventional sense.

He grinned at me, nodding and enjoying the show, and then sniffed the air
curiously as if getting a whiff of something new and unfamiliar.

"I can smell it," he told me.  "I can smell you fingering your butt!"

Feeling uncomfortable at his frankness, I stammered, "Sorry... er... is it
a bit... unpleasant?"

"No!" he laughed.  "It's just the smell of butt-sex.  It's like when you
have a bloke over for the night and he's shagging your arse so hard I can
smell it from my bedroom!"

I chuckled, relieved, and asked, "Does it turn you on when you can smell
our sex?"

"Yeah," he grinned.  "Can you smell my butt being fingered?"

I sniffed and agreed, "Quite distinctly.  It's quite harsh and
pungent... very obviously anal."

He smirked and nodded, well aware that his bum had a strong odour to it.
"Does it remind you of when I have Marcus to stay and we're going at it in
the next bedroom?"

"A bit, yeah," I conceded.  "But it reminds me more of when I come into
your room on a morning and it's clear that both your hands have just been
busy under the duvet."

He blurted out with laughter.  "Oh Jeez!  You can actually smell that?"

I chuckled back.  "The mixture of semen and of... well... bumminess is
pretty hard to miss!"

He chortled and I watched his eager finger lunging rapidly in and out of
his pudgy ring which was extruding obscenely from between his hairy cheeks.

He looked at mine too, sliding back and forth more deliberately but
gradually quickening as I savoured the steady acceleration, and asked, "Is
this how you like to have your butt fucked, then dad?  D'ya like the other
fella to start off nice and slow, then slowly speed up 'til he's banging
your arse really fast and hard?"

I chuckled, letting my right hand and my finger speed up a little towards
matching his pace.

"Yes, I do enjoy it when the passion steadily builds.  But I don't always
let the other bloke dictate how fast we go – my own hips have a lot to
do with deciding when it's time to up the tempo."

He grinned and said, "I like it best when it's fast from the outset."

"Really, Jake?" I asked, peering at his finger slamming urgently in and out
of his swollen purple opening.  "I would never have guessed."

"Yeah," he laughed, missing the irony, "I fucking love it that way!  When
the guy I'm with just spits on his dick and then rams it the fuck up me!
And then for him to plough my arse really full-on with his hips whacking
against mine!"

"That's a very... er... stimulating image," I admitted, allowing my hand to
pump my foreskin still faster.

"The rougher the better," he grinned, with his hand speeding up even faster
as it frantically pumped his glistening erection.  "I love it when it's
fast and sweaty!  I like to know how much the lad shagging me really needs
the fuck and for him to know that I can't wait to have my turn getting my
knob stuck up his big brown gash!"

"Big brown gash!" I laughed.  "Very eloquently put!"

We smirked at each other as our hands pounded up and down our
similarly-sized manhoods and our two big heavy pairs of bollocks bobbed
around against our fists.  Jake worked a second finger into his huge,
hungry hole and then squeezed in a third.  I followed his example so that
we were both roughly fingering ourselves with a girth similar to that of a
fairly slim erection.

Jake sniffed the air a few times and laughed at the distinctly bawdy whiff
my gouge was giving off with three fingers pumping in and out of it.

"Cor!" he grinned at me.  "I can really smell your stink now!"

"It's not stink," I countered, blushing slightly.  "It's just... well... a
bit of rear odour..."

"It's full-on bum-stink, dad," he chortled, "straight from your hot slimy
tush!  And – believe me – it's totally fucking awesome!"

I smiled at him, appreciating the compliment, and pushed my bum further out
towards him to give him a stronger smell of it.

"You like it, then, do you, Jake?" I asked.  "You like the smell quite
strong?"

"I love it!" he grinned back, jerking his big cock rough and hard.  "It's
the stink of dudes having butt sex and it's as horny as fuck!"

I smiled over at him, enjoying the smell myself, and he directed his arse
more towards me, frigging himself with fast stabbing strokes.

"Can you smell mine?" he asked.  "Does it stink dead nasty and dirty?"

I inhaled deeply and was surprised at how intense and overpowering Jake's
lewd backdoor musk now was.

"It's like when you've got Marcus staying over," I told him.  "And I can
smell the stink of his cock banging away at your arse."

"Do you wank off when you sniff it?" he leered.

"Yeah," I grinned back.  "Do you wank off when you smell some bloke on my
back, making a stink when he's rutting with me?"

"Of course I do!" he replied.  "I sniff it hard and deep and wank off
really fast!"

We laughed with each other as our hands did their work, sniffing the air to
enjoy the stark pungent whiffs of each other's arseholes being so deeply
cuffed.

Then he said, "You didn't tell me what the most outrageous thing you've
done is."

"Oh that," I smiled, feeling myself getting breathless and my armpits
growing wet.  "I suppose that would have to be about three months ago."

He nodded, panting, clearly preparing himself for an imminent climax and
hoping that my story would bring fruit to bear.

"It happened in a... er... public toilet," I began, gauging his response
warily as I'd never before admitted to him that I frequented such places
for sex with other men.  He didn't look surprised but just nodded and
smirked; I could tell from his reaction that he was no stranger himself to
the illicit pleasures of such places.

"There was a group of us at the urinals," I continued, "standing around
with our trousers yanked down, beating our pricks off for each other to
watch."

His smirk grew broader.  He'd no doubt been there, done that and had the
t-shirt depicting that particular activity stashed away in his closet
somewhere.

"One or two of the men would squat down and suck the other men's cocks
while the rest of us watched and wanked ourselves off."

"You'll have to let me know where these loos are," he laughed, his two
hands hammering like a pair of pistons: one making long, curving sweeps out
in front of him, the other down below making short, driving jabs.

"I'm not keen on being orally pleasured myself," I told him.  "But I like
the sight of another man having his erection tended to by an eager,
stubbled face."

"So did you squat down yourself?" he asked.  "Get yourself a gobful of
beefsteak?"

"I did squat down, yes," I admitted.  "But it wasn't their meat I wanted to
get my mouth around."

"You didn't!" he chortled.  "You didn't actually rim the arses of strangers
in a blokes' bogs, did you?"

"I'm afraid I did," I chuckled back.  "I knelt down behind them while they
were having their knobs sucked, pulled the backs of their boxer shorts or
briefs down and then pressed my nose and mouth between their big hefty
butt-cheeks."

"Oh fuck!" he laughed with sweat streaming down his face.  "You actually
licked their arseholes!  A group of random fellas in a gents' loo?"

"It was amazing!" I recalled with both hands expressing my enthusiasm.
"The sheer variety of all the different men's bums... squat muscular ones,
broad and flabby ones.  Some were smooth and almost hairless and were like
silk to nuzzle my face into.  Others were bristling with a coarse wiry
forest, matted in thick clumps where their slimy puckers were waiting for
my tongue!"

"Oh Jesus!" he guffawed.  "You dirty sod!"

"And they smelled and tasted so different," I went on.  "At one end were
the subtle ones which had only the faintest whiff to them and were almost
sensual to lap my tongue against.  At the other end were the ripe and
raunchy ones, which had a crude, carnal stink to them that was bracingly
fierce.  But they were so incredible... all their different hot, sticky
buttholes, so tight and so blokeish, lurking between their round sweaty
cheeks!"

"Wow!" he kept laughing, jerking himself off front and back.  "And you
actually ate them out... had your tongue up their chuds?"

"Those who wanted me to, yes," I nodded.  "Some would pull away,
embarrassed, when they felt my tongue pushing at their rosebuds, while
others would get well into it – grab my head and push my face into their
stink, grinding my face against their big manly arses until they could feel
my tongue sliding up their hot, tight chutes."

"Oh, that is well nasty!" he guffawed, his face clearly showing how
impressed he was with his old dad's vulgarity.  "Kneeling down behind all
the fellas butts in a public john!  Pulling their pants down and shoving
your face into their skanky arse-cracks!"

I could tell from the way he was really pummelling his straining rod that
his orgasm was close.  He was retelling my story to push himself the last
few yards towards his fountaining finish line.

"That wasn't all I did," I told him triumphantly.

"No?" he gasped.  I could smell the sour reek of his precum and pube-sweat.
The wiry hair between his cheeks was plastered to his skin from the dew
trickling down from his huge heaving nutsack.

"No," I grinned.  "When they were all wanking off around me, I crouched
down and did this..."

I steadied my hand on my shaft and bobbed my head down so I could get my
mouth over my big purple shiny cock head.  I suckled it like an over-grown
teat, licking at the clear fluid that oozed from the slit and working my
lips across it so I could slurp at it with my mouth right around it.

"Ah yeah!" Jake called out.  "Suck your own big fat cock, dad!"

I looked over at him as I swept my mouth up and down on my pulsing helmet,
and smiled at how he was gawping at me, pounding his throbbing shaft faster
than ever.

"You look so hot like that, dad!" he told me.  "Sucking your massive dork
while you're finger-fucking your arse!"

I kept sucking at myself, feeling my balls start to tingle and knowing I
was going to cum, with three fingers battering in and out of my swollen
gape.

Suddenly Jake stopped wanking and held his cock upright, then abruptly
bobbed his head down low so he could consume the top few inches of it.  I'd
often suspected my son could self-fellate as I could, but the sight of him
doing it right there in front of me was nevertheless enthralling.

I stared at him in awe, watching his lips sweep hypnotically up and down
the top of his shaft, his cock head remaining snug inside his mouth.  He
was far more adept than I was – perhaps indulging more regularly in the
habit – and I ogled across in sheer fascination at how much pleasure my
son's body was able to provide him with.

It wasn't actually the sight of him self-sucking that triggered my orgasm,
but rather noticing how my son's three fingers were streaked with brown as
they plunged in and out of his bloated purple furrow.

I came in my own mouth, which isn't my favourite sensation I have to admit,
but I knew that seeing me self-fertilising with my own jizm spilling out of
my lips was almost bound to accomplish a similar reaction from Jake.

Which it did.  With gusto.

With my own climax abating, it was interesting to watch Jake experience his
own as a dispassionate observer.  He was, as I'd noticed, far more adept at
pleasuring himself with his mouth and that included the ability to swallow
copious outpourings of his own spunk as rapidly as it was discharged from
his thrusting member.

Watching my son's hunched body contorting and bucking as his huge phallus
unloaded its semen in spasms down his throat reminded me of a wasp doubled
over and stinging itself.  His cock had that same mechanical, almost
instinctive, motion and his face was screwed up into what looked like a
painful wince.

After he'd finished gorging on his own ball juice, he pulled off his cock,
looked up at me and we were both unable to stop ourselves from laughing.
For some reason it seemed outrageously funny to be staring across at each
other with our hard-ons still proud and soaking wet from our own mouths,
and our lips spattered with the dregs of our spent seed.

If I'd expected us to be embarrassed or uncomfortable after what we'd just
done, I couldn't have been more wrong.  We giggled across at each other for
what seemed like a full minute, chortling at each other's big softening
pricks and finding it inexplicably hilarious that we both had thick gobs of
white semen sticking to our teeth.

When our laughter had subsided, Jake came out with, "Best think about
spunking off down your own throat is that it makes the clean up a bit
easier!"

I smiled across at him, "I think your fingers will need quite a lot of soap
and hot water!"

He looked at them, smeared with his own bum, and grinned back at me.

"I better save a lot of it for you, then!"

I looked at my own and, finding them in a far more obscene state, blushed
and muttered, "Oh God, sorry..."

Jake laughed at that and shrugged, "Come on, dad, it's just what happens
when you do butt stuff!  There's nothing to be embarrassed about!"

I grabbed a box of tissues from the coffee table drawer and started wiping
my fingers off before tossing the box across to Jake.  "It's just a
bit... well... disgusting that you saw me working my own hole with my
fingers looking so vulgar..."

He laughed again, wiping his own hand.  "When you finger a girl you're
gonna get it covered in goo, when you do it to a guy, you're gonna get
yourself a chocolate finger!  It's just how it goes – it's kinda, you
know, part of the fun!"

I stood up and started pulling my underwear and trousers back up.  "I'm
glad you said that.  It's very rude but I know what you mean!"

He stood up too and nodded, "Looks like we've got another thing in common!"

I grinned and said, "Yeah.  And I like that you're a big fan of doing it in
the doggy position.  I've always preferred it that way... with another man,
I mean."

He smirked at that and said, "It's funny how lads who are new to doing butt
stuff with other lads, pretty much always want to avoid the doggy
position... I reckon they think it's too 'gay' to have to bend over and
stick their arses out..."

"Is that right?" I asked, doing up my belt.  "I find older men are
generally quite comfortable about getting on all fours and have me mount
them from behind."

He nodded, fastening up his trousers, and added, "Younger guys can get
really weird about it.  If they're up for anal they'll usually want to do
it in a way that doesn't feel like proper bumming – you know, doing it
missionary style and riding each other's dicks.  But once they realise how
good it feels to do each other from behind, most of them stop giving a shit
about what we look like while we're doing it!"

I grinned.  "I had no idea that young men your age would view the doggy
position as being more 'gay' than other forms of homosexual sex."

"Well not all of them, but a lot of them do," he affirmed.  "Once they're
into it, though – taking turns to bend over for each other – I think
the whole 'gay' aspect of it gets to be part of a sort of shock appeal.
I've had guys taking selfies with me shagging them from behind, and filming
themselves going at my butt while I'm squatting on all fours."

I chuckled and wrapped things up by saying, "On which enchanting note,
Jake, I think it's way past your bedtime!"

"I think you've got a point there, dad," he agreed and carried our empty
glasses out into the kitchen.

Before heading up to bed and leaving me to lock up, he said, "What we just
did was pretty tight, wasn't it?  I mean, you don't have any regrets do
you?"

"Maybe one," I admitted, "and that's that we didn't do it earlier."

He grinned and shrugged.  "I reckon we chose the right time, dad... we had
to both be ready for it."

"You're probably right," I agreed.

"It was good though, wasn't it?" he asked with a cheeky smirk.  "We've got
to do it again sometime!"

"We will," I assured him.  "Definitely!"

"That is so sick!" he chuckled and headed off upstairs.

Before he'd turned the corner of the landing I thought I'd better clarify:
"When you say that's 'sick', Jake, you do mean that in a good way, don't
you?"

He sneered at how I was so ancient in my understanding of language.  If it
isn't in Sanskrit or Egyptian hieroglyphics I'm pretty much lost, you see.

"I just mean it's so... you know... kicking... immense...?"

"Oh I get it," I grinned.  "You mean it's... how do you hipsters say
it... maybe 'chill-brill'... is that how they're saying it in the 'hood?"

I grinned up at him hopefully but he threw me a disparaging look.  "Don't
even try to do that, dad," he scolded, before disappearing off to bed.

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