Date: Mon, 7 Mar 2016 05:54:57 -0800
From: Jon Hold <jonhold@earthlink.net>
Subject: My Son, the Cowboy

My Son, the Cowboy
by Jon Hold
Copyright © 2005, 2015, 2016
jonhold@earthlink.net



Shortly after my wife died, my son told me that he was gay. I told him that
was fine, lots of boys his age liked to experiment with their pals. He said
it wasn't just experimenting, that he really had very little interest in
girls. That he liked to suck dick and fuck and get fucked up the ass. I'm
afraid that I didn't handle it very well at that point, going off about how
his timing really sucked, probably as poorly as he did. Then I went
storming off to my bedroom and he went off crying to his.

Holly and I had always been close, hugging and kissing and, until the last
couple of years taking showers and baths together. He and I often wore
nothing but underpants around the house, at least when it was warm. All
three of us, my wife, Holly and I, would use the hot tub together, and we
NEVER wore swimming apparel. My wife had encouraged our closeness, making
us promise to never fight like so many fathers and sons did.

[I before 'e except when 'e's really fine looking!] [No. I have no idea
where that came from or why. It just worked it's way into my
consciousness. Never the nonetheless, it's true!]

I lay there in bed, chastising myself for the way I'd treated my son. I
wasn't sure how I was going to make up for my behavior, but I knew it was
up to me to apologize. I was the one who had acted wrongly. My son was
trying to be honest with me and all I'd done in return was hurt him. Like I
did so often in times of stress, I picked up the bedside phone and called
my brother. Sam had always been there for me, even after he left home to
move to Montana with his boyfriend. I thought they were just buddies at the
time, but my dad, in a drunken fit of what passed for honesty with him,
blurted out that Sam was no son of his and that him and that cocksucking
buddy of his were both going to burn in hell. After Mom put him in bed to
sleep it off, something she got used to doing after Sam left, I called my
big brother on the telephone. He said that, sure he was gay, but so
what. That didn't change who he was or how much he loved me. Then he wanted
to know if I still loved him and I assured him that I did.

I told Sam what had happened and, as I had expected, he congratulated me
for turning out to be just as bigoted an asshole as Dad had been. I got mad
and told him that I already knew that, did he want to help me figure out
how to repair the damage I'd done, or should I just hang up and try and
figure it out on my own.

Sam and I were talking, figuring things out when Holly crawled into bed
with me and started crying as he clung to me. He hadn't done that since he
was a little kid. I got him calmed down and told him that I was talking to
his Uncle Sam on the telephone. He took the phone from me and, still
sniffling, had a long, intimate talk with his uncle. I was tired and dozed
off holding my son and listening to the buzz of their voices. I woke up
knowing something was wrong. There was! Holly was sucking my dick!

"What are you doing?" I blurted, grabbing Holly by the shoulders.

He looked up at me from between my legs. "What does it look like I'm doing?
I'm sucking your dick! Uncle Sam said that you were a real horn-dog and
that if I got your dick in my mouth you wouldn't be able to say, 'don't'."

I made a mental note to kill my brother the next time I saw him. But he was
right. I was a horn-dog. I'd never been able to stop once I got started,
which is how Beth got pregnant with Holly in the first place. On top of
which I hadn't even beat off since she had died, or even felt like
it. Holly put his mouth back on me and I was suddenly more turned on than
I'd been in many years. I knew that the suckee has just as much
responsibility for a good blowjob as the suckor [misspelled on porpoise]
and I did my very best to give my son the throat-fucking of his life to
make up for my earlier crassness. We were both notably sucksessful [another
porpoisefoil misspelling] and I spewed so hard that I thought my insides
were coming loose. I fell into a deep, restful sleep for the first time
since Beth died with my son ever so gently cleaning up the mess he'd been
so instrumental in creating.

The next morning I awoke with my arms full of someone I loved deeply. With
a warm, strongly cushioned butt pushed into my loins, and my loins so
throbbingly hard they ached. I moved to adjust myself so I didn't hurt so
bad and the thoughtless head of my manhood slid into position, parting the
firm cheeks of my son's young buttocks. I froze into utter stillness,
refusing to accept what I had just done. My son not only accepted, he
urged. A moaning sigh hissed from him as he wiggled back even more firmly
into my grasp, driving his tiny pucker against the outsized organ that had
very nearly kept me from ever having sex. I kissed my beloved son on the
top of his head, trying to gather the words that would tell him why this
must not be so without hurting him. He pushed back against me even more
insistently and I realized that he had come to my bed already lubricated,
wanting just this. Tears crept from my eyes as the glorious feeling of
deflowering my son swept through my body, overwhelming my mind and it's
thoughts of incest.

Over the next several weeks Holly managed his way into my bed several
times. My body craved and vastly enjoyed those encounters. My mind was an
entirely different matter. I became moody, depressed, jumpy and
forgetful. I took to avoiding my son and getting angry with my employees
for little or no reason. I came home very late one evening, after Holly's
bedtime, only to be confronted by my brother waiting for me in my living
room. I demanded to know what he was doing there and he said that Holly had
asked him to come. That Holly was afraid for me. I jumped Sam and accused
him of being the cause of the whole problem. He tried to calm me down and I
got vicious. I also ended up getting my butt spanked. I couldn't believe
how strong my brother had become running that ranch he and his lover
owned. Neither could my butt.

I woke up to the smell of ham and bacon and eggs and pancakes and coffee
and warm milk. Biscuits straight from the oven greeted me as I walked into
the kitchen. Holly had the table set and ready. Both the flowers he had cut
that morning and his own fine self were on the table, VERY ready for
breakfast. In fact, his teen-aged appetite was all but drooling. Sam served
breakfast and speech was limited to polite "Please pass..." and "Is there
any more...." After breakfast, we talked. It was decided that: a) Holly
would quit trying to jump my bones; b) That I would quit acting like a
complete asshole (2 Ayes to 1 weasle-worded abstention, with me in adamant
denial until Sam offered to let Holly witness a repeat of my previous
evenings performance across his knees); and c), gut-wrenching to me, but
obviously sensible, Holly would spend his summer vacation in Montana, on
his uncle's ranch. This was supposed to give both of us a chance to cool
down and mellow out.

That summer I hired a new secretary, fell in love with and married her. She
was just barely older than Holly, but a very mature and strong person. She
understood my deep feelings for Beth. When I blurted out what had happened
between Holly and I she had no problem with the situation, just said that
she understood and looked forward to meeting Holly and having him home.

Holly felt differently and arranged to take his last year of High School in
Montana. Susan and I flew up so I could talk things through with Holly and
Sam, make arrangements, sign papers and such. I didn't much like the
situation but had to agree that Holly was old enough and mature enough to
make his own decisions. Holly was just barely civil to Sue the entire time,
avoiding her as much as possible. Sam, on the other hand, was deeply
charming and did everything but a hootch dance to entice Susan into his
bed, telling her how much better he was in bed than I was. When she asked
how he knew he said that we'd screwed each other enough as teenagers that
he damn well ought to know. Everyone found that extremely funny, except
me. I was losing my son.

Four years went by with only the occasional phone call or postcard between
my son and me. I was devastated. I loved my son deeply and his not being
with me was a ache in my soul. A daily pain that I had to live with. One
that I had caused. Monthly letters from Holly, insisted upon by his Uncle,
kept me in touch, and I tried to keep Holly in touch with me and my life
with weekly letters. I visited several times, at least once a year, and it
was obvious that Holly still loved me very much and missed me. But he loved
his life out of the city, on the ranch, with all the men on the ranch and
the rural school he attended and his friends there. Personally, I prefer
that a great chef in a nice restaurant prepare any cattle for any meeting I
might have with them, but I respected my sons choice, and secretly admired
the very manly men he had surrounded himself with. Sam, Holly and Ray,
Sam's lover, made no secret that there was only one bed in regular use in
the main house. I used what was nominally Holly's room when I visited.

My life was busy, my business flourishing and I had been elected to the
town council. Sue and I were trying to have a child, but she kept
miscarrying. Somehow Holly became less and less a part of my daily life,
and yet, inside, I missed him every minute of every day.

Winter had just set in, the first of the blustering weather had visited our
flower gardens, wilting and shriveling the final burst of Fall color. Sad
sticks of once proud blooms marked the bare earth as the breath of Winter
stalked the garden pathways. The bright sunlight highlighted the crisp
chill as I walked to the house after a day made dreary by the still
poignant ache of Holly's absence. I missed my son. My beautiful, wonderful
son. Sue's good energy helped soothe my soul, and her wonderful dinner
pulled me out of my morbid, self-condemning thoughts.

After loading the dishwasher, I joined Sue in the parlor, the one room in
the house she had redecorated to make it truly her own. She was reading, I
settled down with my evening paper and crossword puzzle. Sue cleared her
throat with that cute sound of hers that meant, "Let's talk." I smiled and
put my paper down.

"Holly called today," I froze as the rush of emotions, elation, fear,
parental "Is he okay" concern, and pure, unadulterated panic set in, "...he
wanted to know if it was okay to come home."

Speechless from the constriction in my throat, hot tears burning in my
eyes, I half rose from my seat. Sue waived me down, "Don't be silly too,
Dear! I told him not to be silly and think he ever had to ask. I told him
that his room was always ready for him, just like he had left it. His plane
lands tomorrow evening --- and your fretting won't speed it up in the
least, so sit back down and enjoy your crossword."

I actually tried to do as Sue said, but less than a minute later I burst up
out of my chair, demanding to know why she hadn't told me earlier. She just
got that Mona Lisa, I know it all smile on her face. "Because I knew
exactly how you'd react and I wasn't about to let you ruin my perfectly
nice dinner." I was madder that hell, but couldn't say a damn thing. She
was exactly right, and I knew it. I excused myself and went out for a long
walk. Sue was asleep when I got home and I fell asleep sitting in Holly's
bed thinking about him. Sue woke me up in the morning with her knowing
smile all over her beautiful face. She insisted that I shower and get
dressed. Then she fed me a solid breakfast, or tried to, and sent me off to
work, insisting that she was not about to have me fretting around the house
while she was trying to get it ready for Holly's visit. She promised that
we could drive to the airport just as soon as I got home. What she planned
on doing, I didn't know, she always kept the house immaculate. Keeping
Holly's room always ready for him and just as he had left it was her idea,
a choice that I had never had to make. The mile walk to my office helped
calm me down. My secretary and associates were tolerant and mildly amused
once they knew just why I had a bee in my bonnet. I jogged most of the way
home, business suit, briefcase, fancy shoes and all.

Holly was having tea with Sue in the living room. Sue explained that his
plane had landed at 10am, but that the both of them had wanted a chance to
get to know each other before they had to entertain me. I started to
bluster, and then realized that I was reacting exactly like they knew I
would. It showed on my face and when I tried to bluster my way out of that,
we all ended up laughing. I hugged Holly and it was so good having him in
my arms again. My beautiful boy had grown into a wildly handsome man. That
night, before bed, we showered together. I couldn't believe Holly! The hard
life on the ranch had definitely agreed with him. I watched him shed his
brightly colored cowboy shirt. Faded jeans that clung to narrow hips, held
in place by the same studded belt he wore in High School. It's new buckle
was one of those silver cowboy things with the head of a longhorn steer in
gold and four golden stars. The faded bandana tied around his neck just
accented thick muscles that slid down into broad, powerful shoulders and
thick, lightly haired pecs. His lower belly was fuzzy with dark hair and
muscles so strong that this navel barely showed. As lightly haired as his
torso was, his face was heavily bearded, even though he had shaved just
that morning. As tall as me, he had his mothers dark hair and her eyes,
though his were narrowed from looking long distances and for protection
from the sun and weather.

We laughed and joked when Sue sent us off to shower together, telling me
privately that she was going to bed and that Holly and I were welcome to
join her, or we could spend the night in his room, but that I was NOT to
come to her bed alone! I was trying to not be shocked at the meaning of
that while paying attention to my son. I gave up and just accepted her
ultimatum and focused on Holly. God he was handsome! As tall as me now, as
darkly colored as his mother and very much in contrast to my almost pale
blondeness. Dropping his pants confirmed that cowboys didn't wear
underpants --- and that his cock and balls had grown every bit as large as
his father's, and then some. Mesmerized, I finally managed to look up into
his glinting eyes. The small grin around his narrow, full-lipped mouth
telling me I wasn't the first person to fall in love with his
magnificence. Somehow I wrapped him in my arms as he grabbed me and we
kissed with all the passion and need the years of missing each other had
built. I finally managed to pull back. "Holly. I'm so sorry...." He shushed
me with two strong fingers across my lips. "Shut up, Dad! And kiss me!"

What the hell is a father supposed to do? I filled his mouth with my tongue
until I got his tongue in my mouth and then sucked on it until it was a
swollen and wet as the cock he had thumping against my belly. I kissed his
face and sucked on his neck. Tongued his ears and lipped his nipples. My
hot lips [Yeaye MASH!] discovered the hardness of his body. My lust
tenderized and heat sensitive lips couldn't be distracted until they
discovered the thick soft depths of his pubic hair and the wonderful scents
and objects they held. Moaning with wanton abandon, I swallowed Holly's
massively heavy thickness until I could once again bury my nose in his
thick, odiferous ["rich smelling" --- IF you must] pubes, my dick throbbing
and my asshole clenching with sexual delight. I swallowed him as if it were
only yesterday that Sam had taught me to gulp him down to the root.

Holly pushed against my forehead, "Dad. Please. You don't have to...,"

I pulled back, holding my son's ass and pressing more firmly against him as
I lowered my knees behind him to ease the tension of my squatted
position. In my sternest , most fatherly voice, I said, "Shut the fuck up,
Holly. I should have done this long ago!" And with that, I returned to my
loving chore and gave him better head than he'd ever given me. Holly
acknowledged my excellence by totally losing control and fucking my throat
like a madman. God he was strong! And lean and hard and overpoweringly
masculine. God, how I loved my son!

Once in the shower, Holly gave me a long, leisurely fuck that had me
moaning, crying and pleading for him to never stop fucking me. When there
was finally no way that he could keep from sliding out of me, I turned him
around and gave him a masterly fuck that left no doubts as to just exactly
who was the Daddy and who was the boy, however randy he might be. Holly was
admirably boned up again by the time I finally finished with his butt, and
I had to insist rather strongly that we get out of the shower to keep him
from plugging me again right then and there. We played with each other and
dried each other with a playful lustiness that did nothing to assuage our
need for each other, or our need to provide each other with every
opportunity to accommodate that need.

"Holly," I gasped after a particularly enervating kiss, "Sue said that we
could either join her in our bed or use your room. Which would you prefer?"

"God, Dad!" Holly managed to pant when he finally got his lips free
again. "Is she ever hot! Where the hell did you find her? She's
gorgeous. And that body, Wow! I might be gay, Dad, but I ain't no Eunuch
Marie!"

"You want to come in and watch me fuck her then?"

"Hell, old man. You can watch me give her the fucking she deserves, and you
can lick my ass while I'm fucking her just so's that I won't lose my faggot
status."

"You're on, Stud! Let's go see if you can convince my wife that you're any
better than her husband!"

Drunk with happiness, laughing together [to-get-her, get the pun?], we
burst into the bedroom only to stop, frozen. Holly was sitting up against
the padded headboard, the bedcovers down around her waist. When she lowered
the book she was reading, her beautiful full breasts with their proudly
projecting roundly swollen nipples came into our full view. It was like I
was looking through my son's eyes, seeing them, and her, naked for the
first time. Our happy boners jumped in unison into raging, drooling,
mindless lust mode. Our brains shut down and our dicks took complete
charge.

"Hi, Honey," my sex-crazed and mindless mouth spurted, "Is it okay if my
son fucks your brains out?"

Quietly. Calmly. As if two drooling males weren't spinning streamers of
pre-cum all over her nice, clean floor, Sue put her book on the side table
and flipped back the covers. As she slid down into the middle of the bed
and spread her legs, she said, "I don' know, Holly. Think you can fuck my
brains out? Your Dad's never been able too!"

We had our arms around each other and I felt Holly almost shoot his wad. I
bit his ear to get his attention. "That's some hot pussy, Son. Think you
can handle it?"

Trembling, Holly just barely managed to croak out, "I don't know, Dad. You
wanna show me how?"

Well, that was the first night Holly and I spent together in my wife's
bed. I discovered that watching my son fuck my wife was the only thing that
got me turned on more than having him fuck me. Helping him, being able to
teach and guide him in losing his male/female virginity was unbelievably
hot. He was unbelievably hot. Sue nearly lost her mind getting fucked by my
son's huge cock while I ate her pussy and sucked his pistoning
manhood. Watching him, being able to feel him while he went wild on top of
Sue, feeling her, seeing and hearing and smelling her as he fucked her
senseless and she did her best to return the favor kept me so close to the
edge that by the time she finally passed out it took Holly hardly any
effort to have me spurting all over the sheets as he rode my back. Even
though he'd continued to fuck my ass for hours, bringing me to climax after
climax I could reach no higher plane and just gloried in the
sexual/emotional/physical daze my son kept me in. Holly was a powerfully
sexual and never tiring stud. He kept Sue and I in sexual bliss until she
pulled me aside one morning. We both realized that what she said had to be
the truth. She asked me to tell Holly. Over breakfast I talked to
Holly. "What are your plans, Son?"

Holly explained, almost bashfully, that he was actually down here on a
mission. He was afraid that he'd sort of gotten sidetracked by Sue and I,
but that he really needed to talk to us seriously. We told him to go
ahead. He explained that the little community that served all the ranches
in the area was experiencing a real problem. That there just wasn't
anything to keep most of the kids at home. That they ended up moving to the
city and that most of them didn't adjust to the change very well. Sam and
the other main ranchers had talked and had empowered Holly to speak for
them. If I would move my business to Montana, they would help me with a new
building and tax-free status for a number of years. The idea was to give
their kids a chance to earn a good living while staying home. Holly assured
me that most of the schooling in the area was done by television and
computer linkages and that the kids were all handy with computers and
technology in general. More, that he and some of the others were pretty
darn good programmers, and willing to learn whatever was necessary to get
good jobs with me. Everyone was committed to doing their best to keep their
community alive and viable.

I'd been bitching about the labor problems and lazy workers and high taxes
and stupid city, county and state laws and people butting into my business
until Sue had pretty much told me she was sick and tired of my griping,
that either I should do something about it or shut the fuck up and learn to
adapt. We looked at each other, held a long, complicated discussion with
our eyes , and both smiled at the same time. Sue turned to Holly. "Just how
big is that bed of Sam's?"

A grin split Holly's face from ear to ear and the front of his jeans
tented. "If it ain't big enough, Ma'am, we'll sure buy a bigger one!"

"Good!" Sue said. "You know that you've been fucking your father and I so
much that we haven't had a minute alone together since you got here.?."

Holly blushed and tried to apologize. Sue just shushed him. "We're not
complaining, Holly. I just got back from the doctor and we were wondering
what you wanted to name your son?"

Holly went all still, then blinked. Looked at me in sheer terror, and then
at Sue, and then Sue's waist, then back to me. I just smiled and leaned
back in my chair, wondering how I was going to like living in Montana, and
if Sam was going to make a baby on my new wife as well while Holly learned
to deal with her low and evil sense of humor. We were all going to be a
family again, and I was well pleased with life.

——-

PS., Don't get too excited about this one, one way or the other. I'm
working on a different, more direct version. I don't know if my
idea/ability will work out, but if it does you'll get a version of this
where Holly starts fucking everyone about the third paragraph (or, maybe I
can invert that to the first paragraph) and all the screwing gets done in
MUCH more detail, some of which will probably have you squirming in
discomfort as all that pussy juice goes squirting all over everyone's
faces. Yummmy!

--- the heavily hooded shape of his drooling cockhead slowly parted the
soft coral pinkness of her inner lips and nudged against her engorged
clit. Dad uncurled his tongue from her tender nubbin and pushed on my naked
ass so that her tiny arrow penetrated my piss slit, making my asshole
clench around the thick buttplug. Dad moved back between my legs and sucked
both my tender balls into his hot mouth. His hands guided me to Mom's quim,
dropping my balls long enough to tell me that he wanted me to fuck her
good. To give her the baby she wanted. He wanted my cock to fuck her
pregnant. He wanted my sperm to make Mom swell with my baby. He wanted to
suck the sperm out of my balls and spit it into her womb so that I could
father my own brother. "Fuck her hard, Son!" Dad demanded before sucking my
balls back into his slobbering mouth and pushing down hard on my tight
ass....


:-)

Jon


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-----
One man with courage makes a majority.
     ---Andrew Jackson