Date: Fri, 22 May 2015 00:22:21 +0000 (UTC)
From: Jerlar <jetdesk2@yahoo.com>
Subject: For Pete's Sake, Part 1

FOR PETE'S SAKE


CHAPTER ONE


	Tracy Adams slowed his vehicle down so he could make the sharp turn
in the road.  Once the road straightened back out, he pressed his foot hard
against the accelerator, and the Jeep jumped into action.
	Tracy was home for the summer. He had just completed his second
year of college, and he was ready for a relaxing summer. He loved driving
country roads, flying through the hills and taking in the scenery; scenery
familiar to him for as long as he could remember. Tracy had lived in the
same farm house all of his life. The same house his father, Pete Adams, had
been born and raised. Tracy's Grandpa and Grandma Adams had died when he
was a small child. He had lost his mother when he was fourteen. His dad was
the one and only loan officer at the bank in the small town of Makers.
	As Tracy sped down the country dirt road, he breathed in deeply,
enjoying the wind, void of pollution. It felt so good being out in the open
spaces, that Tracy didn't even mind the heat that came with the wind. Even
though it was just the first week of June, the weather had already turned
hot, turning late spring into full blown summer overnight.
	Tracy slowed down for another sharp curve, and once through it, he
gunned the jeep again. This time, however, the engine seemed to pause. Then
the motor died, allowing silence to take over the vehicle.  When Tracy
attempted to restart the Jeep, he was met with a resisting sound from the
Jeep's engine.
	"Shit!"
	No matter how hard he tried, Tracy couldn't coach the Jeep to
life. The battery was already beginning to cause the motor to turn over
slowly. He reached for his cell phone.
	"Well, fuck! What else can happen?" Tracy held a dead phone in his
hand.
	Tracy stared at the dead thing for a moment longer. Then shrugging
his shoulders, he jumped out of the Jeep and pushed the dead phone inside
the pocket of his shorts. He decided there must be a house somewhere along
the road and set off walking along the dusty graveled road.
	Half a mile later Tracy came to a mailbox, held up by a thick
timber post. The name "Lewis" was printed on one side of the metal box. A
drive marked by two wide tracks led up to a small farm house, hidden from
the road by several trees.
	"Well, Mr. or Mrs. Lewis, I certainly hope you're home." The words
seem to come crawling from his mouth as he spoke.
	Tracy stepped on the porch and knocked on the door. As he waited,
he heard footsteps from inside the house, and Tracy couldn't help but feel
relieved. Hopefully his walk along the dusty hot road had come to an end.
	The door opened and suddenly an older man stood before Tracy.
	"Can I help you?"
	"Are you Mr. Lewis?"
	"Depends. Who wants to know?"
	"Sir, I was driving not far from here when I had car trouble. I
have a cell phone, but the thing's dead. Could I possibly use your
telephone to call a wrecker?"
	"Maybe. What's your name?"
	"Adams. Tracy Adams."
	The man inside the farm house appeared thoughtful. Then he said,
"You have any family around here?"
	"Just my father," Tracy answered. His throat was so dry it was
almost impossible for him to speak. "Pete Adams," Tracy added hoarsely.
	The look on the man's face suddenly changed, and he pushed the
screen door open. "Pete Adams' son, huh? "Well, come on in, Pete Adams'
son."
	Feeling the need to be cautious, Tracy walked slowly through the
opened door. He found himself standing in a small living room.  He tried to
keep his eyes on the older man, but Tracy found himself looking around the
room. He heard a low humming sound and discovered it was coming from a
small air conditioning unit in one of the windows.
	"Phone's over there on the table," the farmer said pointing. "You
look pretty dry. Would you care for something to drink?"
	Walking to the telephone, Tracy told the man he could use a cold
drink.
	"I have water and beer. Both very cold," he added.
	"I'd like a cold beer," Tracy answered as he picked up the phone.
	"How old are you?"
	Tracy decided to be honest with the old man. "Twenty," he said.
	"Not really old enough for beer, are you, son?"
	"Then I'll take a glass of water."
	The man gave a shrug with his shoulders. "Hell, I was drinking beer
when I was your age. Didn't hurt me none."
	Tracy made his call and was told the jeep could be picked up in the
next hour or so. He gave directions to the mechanic and ended his telephone
call.
	The old farmer returned to the living room carrying two bottles of
beer. He handed one to Tracy and said, "I don't mind running you some
place. I doubt you would want to wait around on the wrecker."
	As Tracy took the drink, he said, "You know who I am. What's your
name?"
	"Name's Lewis. Harland Lewis." Saying his name, Harland put his
bottle to his mouth and took a big drink.
	Tracy followed suit and tipped his bottle as well. Wiping his mouth
with his hand, he said, "I would appreciate a ride, Mr. Lewis."
	"Most people call me Harland."
	"Okay, Harland. I would appreciate a ride into town. I guess you
know that my father works at the bank."
	Harland took another swig of his beer. Then he looked Tracy
directly in the eye and said, "Pete Adams is your old man, huh?"
	Tracy nodded.
	"You look just like him," Harland Lewis said.
	"I hear that a lot," Tracy admitted.
	Harland studied the young man on his sofa, and for a moment he
allowed his mind to go back in time to when he was Tracy's age. The memory
made him feel pleasantly good all over. Coming back to the present, Harland
said, "So, tell me, how often do you jack off?"
	Tracy had just taken a drink from is bottle. Surprised by the older
man's question, he choked on the cold liquid.
	Shocked and feeling his face turning hot, Tracy uttered, "Why the
hell would you ask me something like that?"
	Harland shrugged his shoulders. "I thought you told me that Pete
Adams is your father."
	"He is."
	"If Pete is your old man, you have to be jacking off. A lot I would
think. You couldn't be Pete's son and not have a healthy relationship with
your dick."
	Tracy drained his bottle and set it down on the table beside the
sofa. "What exactly are you trying to say, Mr. Lewis?"
	"Harland," the farmer corrected. "Your father and I grew up around
the same time. He's a little younger than me. He and I did a lot of running
around together when we were young. Hell, son, I've seen your dad whip his
cock out and beat it many a time." Harland stood to his feet. "You need
another beer, Tracy?"
	 Feeling confused, Tracy shook his head. "I'm good."
	"Well, I want one."
	Tracy watched the man leave the room and return carrying a full
bottle.
	Harland took a drink and said, "So tell me, you ever see your dad
jerk off?"
	"No, never." Tracy was tempted to change his mind and ask for
another beer.
	Harland Lewis eyed the boy closely. "Are you sure you don't want
another one? There's plenty in the ice box."
	Tracy told the old man another beer sounded good, and the man
brought one to him.
	"Does this shock you, Tracy? Hearing that your old man probably
jacks off?"
	Tracy took a big drink from the bottle. The liquid felt much colder
as it traveled down his throat.
	"I guess I never gave it any thought," Tracy answered.
	"Didn't you lose your mother a ways back?"
	"She died when I was fourteen," Tracy answered.
	"Does your dad have a girl friend?"
	Tracy said he didn't.
	"Does he date?"
	"He never has," Tracy answered.
	"Let's see: Pete doesn't have a girl. He doesn't date. You think he
doesn't get his rocks off? Hell, he's younger than me, and I get my rocks
off. A lot," the man added.
	Tracy was only being half truthful with Harland. Over the years he
had thought a lot about his dad and whether or not he jacked off. As for
Tracy, he shot a load at least twice a day. Some days even more than that.
	"Tracy?"
	Tracy looked at Harland and waited.
	"Son, I didn't mean to embarrass you. I probably shouldn't have
asked you that question."
	Tracy took another drink from his bottle. "The answer's yes."
	"Yes?"
	"Yes, I jack off. Sometimes several times a day." Tracy looked down
at the bottle in his hand. Then looking at Harland once more, he said,
"You've seen my dad jack off?"
	"Lots of times," Harland assured him. "You really haven't seen him
do it?"
	"Never."
	"Would you like to?"
	The word "no" was on the tip of Tracy's tongue, but he reeled it
back. He realized that it would be a lie, and he was certain Harland would
know it.
	"I've thought about it," he finally answered.
	"Would you like to hear about some of my experiences with your
dad?"
	Tracy wanted to tell the man no, that he didn't want to push his
way into his father's private life. The words, however, refused to come out
of his mouth. Instead he gave a nod.
	"Have you ever seen Pete naked, Tracy?"
	Feeling his face grow hot, Tracy shook his head.
	"Seriously? The two of you live together, yet you've never seen him
take a bath even once?"
	Tracy shook his head for the second time. "No, never," he said.
	"What about you? Pete ever see you naked?"
	"Not in several years," Tracy answered.
	"I find that really hard to believe." Harland shook his head in
disbelief.
	"Believe it then. I'm pretty sure I wasn't a teenager the last time
he saw me. That's how long it's been."
	Harland sat forward in his chair. "Let me tell you a bit about your
old man, son. Maybe you haven't seen him naked, but surely you've seen him
without a shirt."
	"I have done that," Tracy admitted. "When he cuts the grass he
usually doesn't wear a shirt."
	"Tell me, does he have a hairy chest?"
	Tracy allowed his mind to dwell on his dad.  "I'd say it's
hairy. While not as hairy as some men, he has a fair amount I guess." Tracy
gave Harland a sharp look. "I thought you said you've seen him naked
before."
	"Oh, I have. Many times," Harland added. "You have to remember,
though, that it's been years since he and I spent time like that
together. After he married your mother we quit fooling around like that."
	"Dad married Mom when he was twenty-five," Tracy said.
	"Your dad and I jacked off together right up until he
married. After that we never got back together."
	Tracy suddenly had a thought. "So, tell me, have the two of you got
together since my mother died?"
	Harland shook his head. "Never did," he answered.
	"She's been gone six years," Tracy reminded the older man.
	"Still, we never got together."
	Tracy drained his bottle. "So tell me about my dad."
	"The last time he and I spent time together Pete still had a fairly
smooth chest. Oh, he had a few blond hairs sprouting on his chest. He was
starting to grow a nice treasure trail as well," Harland remembered. "I
remember that he had quite a bit of hair growing around his dick. And could
he jack his dick. It's funny, the way boys are. When we first started
jacking together, it was a race between us to see who could shoot
first. Then later on it went the other way. We would see who could stroke
the longest without shooting. I can still see your dad. He would be jacking
with one hand and switch to the other hand without missing a stroke. I
remember he liked to play with his balls when he jerked off."
	"I guess I took after him," Tracy finally said. "I find myself
tugging my nuts when I jack off."
	Harland looked closely at the boy sitting across the room from
him. "Tell me, Tracy, you ever play with your ass when you jerk off?"
	Tracy's face suddenly felt hot. "Yeah," he said softly.
	Harland grinned. "Well so did your father. The more he played
around and teased his ass, the harder his dick would get."
	For a brief second Tracy remembered his problem with the Jeep. At
the time he had been really pissed off. Now he couldn't help but be a
little pleased with his situation. He was finding out things about his dad,
and to his surprise, he found himself becoming really turned on.
	"I'm telling you, kid, you need to see your dad jerking his
cock. Hell, if I remember right, Pete could probably teach you a thing or
two about jacking off."
	"Maybe I will," Tracy decided. His mouth was once more very dry,
and this time it wasn't caused by the hot weather.
	Harland stared at him closely and said, "You like hearing about
your dad, don't you, son?"
	When Tracy didn't answer, Harland said, "Don't deny it. I can see
your cock behind those shorts you're wearing.  Looking pretty hard to me,"
he added with a grin.
	Tracy didn't try to deny anything. He remained silent, and without
thinking, he reached down and touched his crotch with his hand.
	Harland stood to his feet. "If you like hearing about your dad,
maybe you'd like to watch me jack off. How about it, son? I can at least
show you what I looked like when I jerked off with Pete. How about it?
Would you like that?"
	Tracy couldn't seem to find any words to say. Remaining silent, he
gave the older man a nod.
	Harland was wearing overhauls and a tee shirt. He unsnapped both
straps and let them fall to the floor. Next he reached for his undershirt
and pulled it up over his shoulders. To Tracy's surprise, the man was
standing before him completely naked.
	Tracy's eyes went directly for the man's crotch. He was amazed by
the man's cock. For an old man, Harland had a nice looking dick. He'd guess
that the man was at least seven inches and very thick. Thick brown hair
grew all around his dick. Little brown hairs covered the man's balls.
	"Well, Tracy, what do you think about this old man standing naked
before you?"
	Tracy's eyes traveled along the man's chest and finally settled on
Harland's face. "How old did you say you are?"
	"Fifty-five," Harland said as he wrapped his fingers around his
hard dick.
	"Very nice," Tracy assured him.
	"Yeah, I'm sure when you're twenty that fifty-five seems ancient to
you. Let me assure you, though, I get just as horny now as I did at
twenty."
	Brown hair covered the older man's chest. There was several strands
of gray running through it as well. For some reason Tracy found that really
attractive in the man. He looked back at the man's pubes.
	"There's no gray in your pubes," he pointed out.
	Harland pulled his hand away from his dick. Looking at the hair
around it, he said, "Not yet. I'm sure there will be one day. It's already
spreading across my chest." His words had sort of a sad ring to them.
	"I like the gray," Tracy quickly assured him.
	"No shit?"
	"No shit," Tracy echoed.
	"You like what you see here?"
	Tracy nodded. "I do."
	Harland looked down at his crotch and then back across the room in
Tracy's direction. "Okay, you've seen all of me. Is there a chance I could
see all of you? It would certainly give me pleasure," he added.
	Feeling like he had no control over his body, Tracy Adams stood to
his feet. The first thing he removed was his tank top. He pulled it over
his head and dropped it to the floor. Next he unsnapped his jean shorts and
let them fall to the floor as well, Unlike Harland, Tracy was wearing
briefs. The head of his cock was sticking out from the waistband. When he
pulled them down, a heavy strand of pre cum attached itself to his
body. Tracy kicked his clothes away and stood naked before Harland.
	Harland licked his lips. "Oh, to be that young again," he
moaned. His eyes roamed over the young body standing naked before him.
	Being only twenty, Tracy's chest was still quite smooth. Little
blond hairs were beginning to show themselves, but had yet to take off and
grow. Most of Tracy's body was still smooth. There was a fair amount of
hair in his pits, Harland noticed.
	Tracy watched as the man's eyes settled on his crotch area. Tracy
followed with his own eyes, taking in what Harland was seeing. His cock
wasn't quite as long as Harland's. However, he was just as thick. Perhaps
even thicker. Tracy's pubes were woven into a thick kind of dirty water
blond tangle. His balls were just beginning to show hair growth on their
sac.
	Harland licked his lips once more. "Man, if I'm remembering Pete
the way I think he is, hell, Tracy, you're patterned just like your dad."
	"No shit?"
	"No shit, son."
	Tracy's dick cut loose with another strand of pre cum.
	"You like hearing that you're like Pete, don't you, Tracy?"
	Speechless, and still somewhat amazed he was actually standing
naked in front of a man he hardly knew, Tracy gave a nod. Without giving
any thought to the matter, he wrapped his fingers around his dick.
	"God, you're a hot sight for these old eyes of mine," Harland
groaned. He began rubbing his dick.
	Stroking his cock as well, Tracy kept his eyes on Harlan's body. If
someone had ever told him that he would be jacking off with a man older
than his father, Tracy would have told them to fuck themselves. Now, seeing
Harland's naked body before him, well, Tracy had to admit it was a fucking
hot sight to see.
	He watched as Harland began jacking faster. The man stroked with
one hand and played with his balls with the other hand. Tracy enjoyed
watching the man's hand land in his pubes. Each time Harland touched his
bush Tracy's dick would grow harder against his fist.
	Harland suddenly pulled away from his dick. Grinning, he asked
Tracy if he wanted to touch him.
	Once again as if he was in a trance, Tracy found himself walking
across the room. He stopped in front of Harland. The first thing he did was
place a hand on the man's chest. The wiry tangles tickled his skin as he
rested in the growth. Then Tracy slowly brought his hand down. He stopped
when he reached the outer edge of the man's bush.
	"You don't have to stop there," Harland told him. "If you're
wanting my permission to continue, you sure as hell have it, son."
	Tracy's fingers slowly walked through the thick forest. When he
felt the hard base of Harland's cock, he stopped once more.
	"Again, you have my permission," Harland reminded.
	Tracy's fingers suddenly latched onto the older man's thick dick.
	"Fuck," the man groaned. "You keep that up, I'm going to blow,"
Harland warned.
	Tracy quickly pulled his hand away.
	"Don't get me wrong, kid. Shooting cum is a good thing."
	Tracy's fingers wrapped themselves around Harland's dick once
again. He slowly jacked the man. He couldn't believe the sensation he was
feeling all over his body. This was the first time he had ever touched
another cock, other than his own.
	Harland reached his hand toward Tracy and then stopped. "Okay if I
cop a feel, Tracy?"
	Tracy gave a nod and continued stroking the older man's dick. He
was still amazed at the way his body felt each time his fist landed in
Harland's brown cock hair.
	"Oh, fuck!" Tracy pulled away from Harland, forcing the man's
fingers to leave the boy's dick.
	"Something wrong, Tracy?"
	"No one's ever touched me before," he whispered.
	"You didn't like the way it felt?"
	"Oh no, it felt wonderful. So good it just about made me cum."
	"Nothing wrong with that," Harland assured him. "Tracy, can I make
you cum?"
	"Here?"
	"Right on this spot," Harland told him.
	"What about the cum?"
	Harland latched onto Tracy's dick and pulled him close. "I'd love
feeling your cum on my dick. If some drops to the floor it's quite all
right. I can always clean it up later."
	"Only if I can jack you off," Tracy answered the man's question.
	"You definitely can jack me off, Tracy."
	The two, Tracy and Harland, stood close together. So close in fact
they could feel the heat coming off the other's body.
	"It feels so fucking good having you jack me," Harland moaned.
	Suddenly Tracy cried out, "Oh, shit!" He felt his cock explode;
felt it shooting cum out onto Harland's body. As the last wave of orgasm
coursed through his body, Tracy's knees buckled, and he fell against
Harland.
	When Harland felt Tracy's cum hit his body, he cried out, "Fuck,
Tracy, I'm going to cum!"
	It was another first for Tracy Adams. When the hot cum landed just
above his pubes, the experience left him even weaker still. He had never
seen cum other than his own; certainly hadn't felt anyone else's.
	For a moment or so both stood there next to each other. Harland was
just enjoying the moment. Tracy, well, he wasn't exactly sure what his next
move should be. Harland made the decision for him.
	"I'm loving this, Tracy, but I have a feeling we need to get you to
town. Not to rush you off," the older man added.
	Tracy was still a bit confused. He didn't speak. Instead, he walked
over to where his clothes were lying on the floor.
	"Everything okay?" Harland asked him.
	Tracy nodded. "I think so. I just have a lot to think about now."
	"The bathroom's down there," Harland said pointing to a short
hallway. "Why don't you get cleaned up first? We can talk on the way into
town. You'll find a clean towel and wash cloth on the rack."
	Half an hour later Tracy was on his way into Makers, the town where
he had lived all of his life. He listened as Harland talked about some
things.
	"Tracy, I want you to promise me two things, okay?"
	Tracy looked across the pickup cab at the man behind the wheel. He
remained silent, waiting for Harland to speak his mind.
	"First, I want you to promise me that you will try and discover
some things about your dad. It might be a good idea for you to begin
parading around him naked."
	Seeing the shocked look on Tracy's face, Harland said, "Go slow at
first. I wouldn't advise dropping all pretense of privacy right away. Don't
make it seem intentional that he sees you that way. Start out by making it
look like an accident. Come out of the bathroom unexpectedly when you think
he will see you. Act like you didn't know he was home. Something like
that," he added.
	"Also, try and see if you can catch him jacking off. You and I both
know he does it. You might not want to let him catch you jacking just
yet. However, you might give just enough hint that he knows what you're
doing. There's all kinds of ways to work on this," Harland ended.
	When the older man became silent, no longer speaking, Tracy
reminded, "You said there were two things."
	Harland Lewis continued driving along the graveled road for another
moment. Finally he said, "If for any reason you need to talk with someone,
I want you to know I am here for you. I have a very willing ear."
	Tracy thanked the man for his advice, adding, "A willing ear, and
I'm sure a hard cock as well."
	"Damn straight," Harland said and laughed. "It's always hard."
	"I know the feeling," Tracy said.
	"Well, if for nothing else, we can give each other relief."
	Tracy was quiet for a minute or so. Finally he decided to say what
was on his mind. Looking across the pickup cab once more, he said,
"Harland, can I ask you something?"
	"Anything, Tracy."
	"You never married?"
	"Who would want the likes of me, kid?"
	"You're a hot looking man," Tracy assured him.
	"Not these days. I'll admit, twenty years ago I cleaned up pretty
nice. Even ten years ago," he added.
	"Have you looked in the mirror lately, Harland? You still clean up
good."
	Harland stared at the road for a time. The outer edge of Makers was
coming into sight. "We live in a small rural area, Tracy. It's not always
possible to find someone."
	"There have always seemed to be plenty of women around these
parts," Tracy reminded.
	Harland gave a nod. "True. But then, maybe it wasn't women I was
interested in."
	Tracy didn't get what Harland was saying at first. When it finally
dawned on him what the older man was getting at, he said, "Oh, I see."
	They had reached the small city limit of Makers, and Harland soon
pulled up in front of the bank. When Tracy opened the pickup door, Harland
said, "We'll continue this conversation another time, Tracy. Okay?"
	"Okay," Tracy answered. He stepped down onto the concrete. Turning
back to face Harland, he said, "Thanks, Harland, for everything. I feel as
if I've made a good friend. Hope you feel the same way."
	"Oh, trust me, I believe I have. Give me a call sometime. Remember
your promises. Especially the first one. Do this for your dad's sake. For
Pete's sake," he added quietly.
	"I will, Harland. Thanks for everything."
	Tracy stood on the sidewalk and watched as Harland turned his
pickup around and headed back the way they had just came. The man sent him
a wave as he passed by.
	"My God, what an afternoon!"
	Uttering the words, Tracy walked toward the main entrance of the
bank where his father worked.
	A fucking good afternoon, he thought as he pushed the door open and
walked inside the lobby.