Date: Sun, 3 Feb 2008 23:04:14 +0000
From: Bill Drake <billdrake@hotmail.com>
Subject: Naval Tradition, chapter 8

Naval Tradition
Bill Drake (billdrake@hotmail.com)

Another episode in the story of Jim McGrath. Let me know what you think, or
any story suggestions at billdrake@hotmail.com. More of my stories
available at the Authors page of Nifty archive, or at the Yahoo Group:
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/drakestories/



WARNING: THE FOLLOWING IS FOR ADULTS ONLY. It is gay erotic fiction
explicitly depicting sexual acts between male adults. If that offends or
disturbs you, read no further.

Also, I've had some guys complain there's too much reference to straight
sex creeping into my stories. There's no actual hetero couplings here, but
if talk about them is a turnoff, be forewarned. Sorry, just writing to my
inner muse.

For the rest, sit back, unzip, pull it out, and enjoy.



Naval Tradition


Jim's Story

8

Spring Break 2004 Day 3

Our afternoon hike took us through lush, semi-mountainous terrain, with
tropical flora and waterfalls just about everywhere you looked. It was
breathtaking in its gorgeousness, but I my eye and my thoughts kept coming
back to my father, who walked ahead of me. He'd put on one of my Virginia
team T-shirts that morning as a joke to show that he was still as fit as
his son. When he saw the lust in face, he left it on. Looking at him in my
clothing, I imagined him in his college days, and I imagined myself nearly
thirty years from now. We were one.

Even now, the effect was electrifying. The white cotton stretched over his
powerful frame, pulling tight over the massive delts and lats. My shorts,
too, were tight on him, and his full, meaty butt filled them obscenely. At
least I couldn't keep my eye of that rump and the deep crevice they formed
as Dad took each goddamn step on that hike. I imagined running my tongue
along the valley traveling down the muscle of his backside, til I got to
that tight, moist mantrench, then burrowing on...

I looked at my watch. 2PM, and my late-teen horniness was flaring up again,
and I suddenly felt dumb as I had to concentrate on my step, with my hardon
firm in my shorts to distract me. At one point Dad looked back to check on
me, saw my fuckshaft standing tall like a proud soldier and
chuckled. "Think you can make it, Jimbo?" he teased in a deep grumble of a
voice just low enough that the others wouldn't hear.

Shit, I didn't know if I could make it. The day had started well enough,
with a slow, lazy fuck in our hotel bed as the sun streamed in. At first I
thought Dad wasn't going to shaft me, just pin my body beneath his and rub
his giant cock along the thick ridge of my own until we exploded. I almost
did, til my father's hips locked still and with a grunt, he reached
underneath my thighs and hoisted them up.

"Much better," he pronounced. The firm, precum-wet hooded helmet of his
oversized manmeat prodded instantly, insistently at my sphincter, and his
eyes widened in carnal knowledge as he watched me gain awareness that I was
gonna be screwed again by my old man and soon.

To this day, I don't know how I was able to take that ten-inch McGrath
cock. Even after a couple days fucking, it still stretched and hurt a
little. Especially that morning as Dad shafted me without full lubrication,
just the remnants of his seed from the night before. The man's big, and I
was getting stuffed good and hard, and the friction felt rough on the
inside of my now tender ring. But it sure felt great getting taken that
way. My cock deflated a little, but my inside felt warm, on fire. And my
thoughts reveled in the knowledge that Dad was breaking me in, owning me.

Dad was turned on too, rubbing my now smooth chest and talking filth in his
sexy, gutteral voice. "Yeah, my boy's got Navy in 'im all right. Takes a
good pounding and takes it like a man. You're all man now, aren't ya,
Slugger?"

"I'm YOUR man, sir!" I replied at top-notch. I don't know how many of his
own reports my Commander of a father ever fooled around with, if any, but
the idea that I was his Lieutenant Commander and right-hand man overfilled
my brain with lust at that moment.

My words egged him on. If I hadn't been aware of exactly how strong Dad
was, I knew it now, feeling his weight on top of me, his sheer power as he
wasted no time in pounding away. His firm hairy belly bounced against my
grown, up and down. His hips thrust through the tightness of my rectum,
pushing through the taut chute on every thrust. It felt like I was getting
violated over and over. Our fucks so far had been intense, but this was
quick, hard and raw. "Don't you know it, Jimbo. Your ass is fucking making
love to my cock. "

I had to take his word for it. I was doing my best to breathe while his
truncheon of a cock pistoned full and deep. My erection wouldn't come back
I was getting fucked so hard, but nonetheless my cock felt good swollen,
half-hard on my belly with its manjuice being extruded out from the inner
pressure on my hidden gland.

Dad was intense now, with a deep, vacant look in his steely eyes. He was
longdicking me and holding onto my thighs as he screwed me with abandon.

That fuck was too good to last long and it didn't. Dad's skin turned flush
red with heat and he screamed in orgasm as I knew my guts were getting
filled good with his officer jizz. It's funny... I didn't get off, but
somehow I was satisfied in our postfuck embrace, his dick still pulsing
inside me as I wrapped my muscular legs around his waist. It was like I was
coming down from a deep cumless orgasm. I hadn't felt anything like it.

"Morning, Slugger," Dad croaked with a scratchy voice. Our lips met,
parched dry and warm. What a way to wake up, I thought, as moved my hand to
feel Dad's hot and hard chest, heaving with each of his deep breaths.

That was only five hours ago, and by now my balls were screaming in
protest. At our first water break, we sat down across from each other and
silently communicated through our eyes. Dad leaned back, putting his hands
on his legs, and I marveled in the powerful torso that stretched my
favorite shirt. I wondered if he appreciated the fact that it would be
loose on me now, a reminder of how much further I had to grow up.

I had done a lot of growing up in the last two years, I reflected, not only
physically but emotionally.

It was time to go again, and this time when Dad stood up, his own
formidable shaft rested hard and heavy in his (my) jersey shorts. "My turn
to take the rear," he whispered, falling in line behind me.

"You already took it," I retorted. "This morning, remember?"

He smiled and hiked up his shorts to show that giant dick. "Whaddya think?"

We were both in agony by the second stop, atop a series of
waterfalls. Fortunately the tour guide announced we were free to wander
around the small web of trails at the top and take pictures, and to be back
in a half hour.

Dad and I wasted no time. We zeroed in on a trail no one else was taking
and scurried away down what was probably a cove without a view. We didn't
notice, every step, every heartbeat, every thought was in unison. Finally,
as we passed a nook in the rocks, Dad's strong grip pulled me in, and I
felt the heat of his body against mine. His right hand gripped my erection,
his left caressed the side of my face.

"Man, Jim," he muttered as his beautiful blue eyes bored into mine. "I must
be a bigger pervert than I thought, but fuck, this is hot."

Our lips pressed together. Dad hadn't shaved that day and his stubble drove
me as wild as his expert tongue.

"Tell me how bad you need to get off, Slugger," he cooed as we broke apart,
my hands already traveling up under his T shirt and over the furry terrain
of his belly.

"God, Dad, you don't even know..." We swapped spit again.

He backed away and looked down at where his hand was massaging my erect
cock through my shorts. "I got a good idea, son." His large thumb massaged
the underside of my corona, causing my dickhead to pulse and swell. "You've
soaked these shorts through. Come on, let's let this baby out."

Effortlessly, he unzipped me and pulled my erection out til its girth
rested snugly in his callused palm.

"There, much better," he growled as his stubble ran roughshod along my
smoother chine. "A McGrath cock needs its freedom, eh?" He winked at me.

In response, my prick gave Dad a little preview, as a copious spritz of
pre-lube shot out the length of his hairy forearm. Smiling, he surveyed the
precum tracks and raised his arm to my face, grabbing the nape of my neck
to pull me and force me to eat my own juice off his salty skin. He didn't
have to do much forcing, though, as I eager lapped away, horny enough to
burst at that moment.

Finally, he pulled it away and peeled off the tight T-shirt. There it was,
that magnificent chest. The one that sent me into paroxysms that first day
in the hotel. The one that still silently commanded me and pushed every
button deep inside me. Still gritting his teeth into a half-grin, he hooked
his thumbs in the waistband of his shorts and tugged down. His own mammoth
McGrath erection was bared in full view. I knew Dad was horny, too, by the
pool of moisture collected in his ample hood.

For a second, I worried what would happen if another person from the tour
would come by. But Dad's kiss pushed my worries away. He was stroking his
cock now, slipping the juicy foreskin back and forth in quick, quiet
squishy sounds. I was jacking off, too. Our breathing was getting heavier
as our muscled bodies inched closer to one another as if magnetically. The
second I felt the aureole of my nipples brush against his hard, hairy
chest, Dad knocked my hand off my cock, and I felt a wonderful, unfamiliar
sensation envelope my dickhead. It was like a cross between a warm mouth
sucking my cock and a familiar hand jerking me.

"How's that, Slugger?"

"Terrific. What the..."

"My foreskin, Jim. I've seen you look at it, I thought you might..."

"Jesus! You mean?" I looked down and sure enough, a good inch of his hood
stretched over my very wide prick.

"Bear with me, son," he winked again, "it's used to being wrapped around a
thinner dick." He pushed it out further.

"Oh fuck!" I exclaimed, carried away by the wonderful sensations. Slow,
regular, intense tightness of this new glove, it was also hot sharing such
an intimate part of Dad.

"What's mine is yours, son," he said before we collided in a kiss. Our
foreheads bumped, but it didn't stop the intensity building between us. Dad
frigged away, jerking for both of us. "Go ahead," he urged, almost
unwilling to pull away from my mouth, "thrust a little. If you're gentle it
can take it." I took him at his word and quickly we were in a little rhythm
that sent me higher and higher.

Too high. Orgasm overcame me suddenly, intensely. I croaked back a moan and
gripped Dad's bulky shoulder. A big salvo of my sperm filled the ballooning
foreskin, which overflowed between us. Just as I was pumping out my last
shots, Dad's cum sprayed out, firing straight onto my balls and against my
still thrusting shaft.

Afterward, Dad got down on his knees and began lapping away at my
cum-soaked crotch with his wide tongue. I returned the favor cleaning off
his cock, taking my time digging under the foreskin with my tongue,
stretching the flesh and kissing the glans. Dad was getting too sensitive
there, so he stopped me. Besides, it was time to join the others again.



*********

The strand that night was packed with the usual collegiate, getting their
second (or first) wind after shaking off the remnants of the day's
hangover. Big boobed coeds, their plainer sorority sisters, the guys
tailing them in packs, trying to get in their pants, or at least set the
bait for later in the evening. I was starting to get the feeling that
nights at Cancun.

Dad and I had just finished a late dinner and were strolling along, soaking
it all in. I felt content walking beside him, loved how we could shoot the
shit. There was the sex between us, sure. That was weird in its own way,
and intense and wonderful. But we were also father and son, able to connect
almost as buddies catching up after a year apart.

It was after a lull in the conversation, as I was scoping out a
particularly hunky frat guy walking ahead of us, that he popped out with
it.

"Jimbo, I have a favor to ask of you."

"Sure. What is it, Dad?"

"I want you to go out tonight. Alone. I want you to get laid."

I laughed nervously. "Wow. Never thought I'd hear my father say that."

"I'm serious, Jim. Would you do it? For me?"

"Why for you?"

The muscles in his shoulders knotted up and his face curled into an
expression that would be adorable if it weren't for the situation. "I can't
explain. At least not now."

I felt on the verge of tears. Instantly, despite the incredible last couple
of days, I was wondering if this vacation was a mistake. We paced along
silently until I got the courage to speak. "You're acting weird, Dad. Did I
do something wrong? Was it something I said earlier... back at the
cliffs... or maybe this morning." My breathing was getting a little
hysterical now.

"Aw, Slugger, fuck no. It's not what you think. I... I still..." he leaned
closely and whispered. "I still want to fuck my boy in the worst way." He
clapped his hand on my shoulder and gave a quick squeeze.

"Yeah?" I said.

"All week. Every day."

I shook my head. "I don't get it."

"I'll explain by end of the week. I want you to trust me."

A glimmer of connection flashed in my mind. Maybe this was Dad's way of
testing me, testing us. I thought for a moment he might be trying to trap
me, getting me go out and screw around, then blame me for it. But I knew
Dad too well. That wasn't his style. He might be acting mysterious as hell,
but he was too on-the-level to pull that kind of shit. I guess I did trust
him.

"OK."

His brow curled up. "You mean it, Slugger?"

"Yah, why not. You want me to go out..."

"... and fuck one of those guys," he nodded generally to a group of young
tanned studs leaning against a stucco wall. "Or a girl, it doesn't
matter. Just get laid, have fun."

"Without you."

"Yeah."

"What are you going to do tonight?"

"Oh, I dunno," he said as he gave me one of his trademark wink. "Just read
my cheap paperback thriller, or whatever a semiretired father does on his
beach vacation."

 ************

"Man, I gotta say you have a terrific build. How often you work out, six
days a week?"

I turned to my side and saw an beaming, dimpled frat boy wearing only a
pair of shorts, sandals and a white cap with a big Nebraska N logo. He was
shorter, 5'9" and didn't have a bad body himself, taut torso rippling up to
a smooth chest with eraser nub nips, rounded, half-sloping shoulders, big
bunched bicep muscles. He was more freckled than tan, though clearly was as
sunsoaked as the rest of the people at the club.

"Yeah, I do. Thanks."

"Taking the week off? I bet you're one of those guys who hits the gym on
Spring Break."

"Nah," I laughed. There was something disarmingly cute about this guy's
puppy dog demeanor. "I gave myself the week off."

"Fuck," he said, taking a swig on his beer and conspicuously admiring my
arms. "You must be pretty fucking dedicated."

I knew my build was solid, but that didn't mean it wasn't fun soaking up
this guy's praise. I shrugged. "Guess so, it's what I gotta do."

"Yeah?" Frat Boy had nice green-gray eyes.

"Varsity."

"Football? No, no, I don't think you have a football player's
body. Hockey?"

"No, baseball."

"Virginia?" he asked pointing to the logo on my shirt.

"You got it. Guess we're both advertising our alma maters tonight, huh?" I
tipped my longneck toward his ballcap.

"Us and just about every one packed into this place. Except for that guy
who keeps telling the girls he's at Harvard." He pointed to a short,
swarthy man chatting to a group of sorority girls.

"And he's not?"

"Nah. He's a brother, actually."

"What house?"

"Sig Ep."

"That's cool. The Sig Eps at UVA are all pretty cool, laid back guys."

"I would say the same thing about baseball players at Nebraska, but I don't
know any."

"Quite all right," I said.

The guy laughed, his bright white teeth and dimples flashing. "You're a
cool guy," he said, "I know it's weird having some guy coming up and
talking to you at a bar."

I took a swallow of beer and put my hand on his bare shoulder. It felt
clammy warm from the day's sunburn.

"Not weird at all, guy."

"Nah?" There were those dimples again.

"Nah." I squeezed his delt muscle. This guy took care of himself, I could
tell by feel.

His smile beamed. "You're a cool guy, you know."

"You told me that already."

"With a great build."

Man, this was too easy. "You said that too." I ran my fingers lightly along
the ridge of his shoulder and up the nape of his neck. I was rewarded with
the sight of Frat Boy breaking into a rash of goosebumps across his smooth
chest.

"Shee-ut," he exclaimed over the dance music of the club.

"What?" I teased.

"You. I bet you baseball players are fucking powerhouses in the sack."

I knocked his cap into his eyes and slapped him playfully on the
back. "Whenever I can find a chick who can handle me."

Tipping his hat back, he asked, "Handle you?"

I held my fingers up in a wide C to indicate girth.

"You're not lying are you?"

"Nope," I said flatly.

Giving me an unsure look, he stepped back against the wall. "Any prey for
tonight?"

Frat Boy was almost as cute with an earnest look, biting his lip, as he was
smiling. "Not yet. What about you?"

"Five guys to every girl. Don't gotta chance. And I'm not sure I want the
ones I do have a chance with."

"Don't sell yourself short, man."

"Just being realistic... All right, what about that one over there? The
brunette dancing next to the speaker?"

"With the big juggers, the one wearing the miniskirt?"

"Yeah her. Is she your type?"

"Yeah man," I played along. "She's hot." Fucking her wasn't out the realm
of possibility, I guess, but I was more interested in the prey standing
next to me.

"What would you do?"

"Well, I'd introduce myself."

"I know that part! I mean after you got her back to your place. I bet
you're the type who skips with the foreplay shit, just gets down to
business."

A paused for effect, and smiled. "Pretty much. Only..."

"Yeah?"

I leaned in to Frat Guy and put my hand back on his shoulder. "I like to do
one thing. A lot." His muscle felt smooth and hard, and I couldn't help but
rub my hand along its contours. He felt like a young man should.

"What's that?"

I leaned my mouth next to his ear and spoke in a low voice. "I like eating
out what I'm about to fuck." My hand slipped down the small of his back,
til it cupped his fine rump. He jumped a little, but I kept
talking. "Really chew down. Get it nice and wet, long deep tongue fuck, ya
know? Til neither of us can stand another minute, and..." By now, my finger
was tracing deep in the crevice of Frat Boy's butt.

"...and?" The goosebumps had returned and his breathing was irregular now.

"...and then I bend her over and I fuck her."

"Face down?"

"Of course. Let her know it's not making love. It's a hard, rough fuck." At
that point I bent forward another half inch and started tongue fucking his
ear. I did it only a couple of seconds, so no one would get suspicious we
were doing anything but talking.

"Wanna come back to my room? I'm sharing it with a brother, but he's still
out on the dance floor," nameless Frat Boy said nodding to the pile of
sweaty people grinding in the center of the club.

"Lead the way, stud," I replied, temporarily grinding my crotch into his
butt as he turned toward the exit.

Like I said, this was too easy.

 ************

Ten minutes later I was in a sterile hotel room making out with Frat
Boy. He was definitely buzzed and hot for it, and quickly I pushed his
shorts off and had his fine butt in my hand. We broke our kiss and he lay
face down on the bed. That butt stuck up proud, high and inviting.

I kicked off my shoes and stripped my shirt and shorts. I looked down at my
fat cock, which throbbed in anticipation. Frat Boy was gonna get boned good
tonight.

"Jeez, you're big," he said, his gaze barely poking from beneath the rim of
his ballcap, which was still on. "You're perfect."

The hero worship would have been embarrassing had I not been turned on by
his desire. It was like a feedback loop. I wondered if this is how Dad felt
with me. Something to think about later, I told myself, as I got in
position between his spread legs and parted those fine, round fratjock butt
cheeks.

"Oh, fuck, guy, that's awesome."

Beyond his groans that was all that was said for the next fifteen minutes
as I made love to his perfect rosebud of an asspucker. I kissed, I prodded,
I teased that hole, til the ring opened up like a spring flower. The fucker
was dilating like crazy against my fluttering tongue. It was driving me
wild, and I could only imagine what he was feeling.

I had a guess as he leaned up on his elbows and shuffled around a bag at
the bedside. He produced a bottle of lube and tossed it back on the
mattress next to me.

"Here, grease up."

Frat Boy was my favorite kind of bottom. Been around the block enough to be
able to take my dick without too much howling, but not so experienced that
he wasn't tight as a timpani drum. I'd barely bottomed out seven inches
deep into his rectum before I drew back on the upthrust, only to come
crashing down again. Frat Boy wasn't silent, but he didn't tell me to stop
either.

This week so far I'd been solely a bottom for Dad. Clearly he tapped into
me, something deep inside, but humping away at this Midwestern stud's
backside, I realized I missed this. Missed those summer afternoons with
Kevin, working him up with a fast facefuck in the hopes he'd lean back and
lift his legs up in an invitation to be mounted. Missed those times with my
brother's partner...

My thoughts pushed me into overdrive. I grabbed onto Frat Boy's backside
and fucked him and fucked him hard. The tight vicelike grasp on my prick
almost stung in its friction, but I was possessed and too horny to
care. This guy needed to be screwed right. He needed to remember his Spring
Break for some time.

I was now lying flat on his back, my arms balled in a push-up position as I
pistoned the hell out of his tight quim. The mattress bounced up and down
and us with it. Our bodies rubbed with beads of sweat as lubricant, my
freshly shaven chest and torso slickly colliding against his strong back.

Just then, a stream of light cross the room and shone on us. Someone had
opened the door.

"Logan? Whoops. Sorry, guys, didn't know anyone was back yet." The intruder
paused a second, then the door shut back.

"Your roommate?"

"Yah." he huffed.

"Sorry about that," I growled, reaching up to hold the guy's fists to the
mattress. I wasn't done with this fuck, and I wasn't ready to slow down.

"'s OK. Fuck me!"

 ************

I'd barely shut the door behind me when I saw him. Drink in hand, smoking a
cigarette and leaning on the hotel balcony railing. 6'2", dark complected
with a lacrosse player build and a broad, strong back bulging underneath
his Sig Ep shirt.

He looked over at me and tipped his drink. "Sorry about that earlier."

I probably should have been embarrassed or worried what this frat guy would
think after seeing the daylights getting screwed out of his buddy. But
something about being thousand miles away from home made you not worry
about shit like that.

"No problem. Sorry to keep you out of your room."

"Wasn't eager to get back."

He sure was being chatty for a stranger. Casually I leaned back against the
wall and tried to make out his face in the darkness. Full nose, buzzcut,
round cheeks. From what I could tell, he looked like a slightly plainer
Luke Owen. "Why did you?"

"Three strikes you're out. I wasn't gonna score tonight." He took a drag on
his cigarette and blew the smoke out over the rail. It was still warm at
what must have been midnight and the breeze felt great coming off the
ocean. "Say, that was pretty hot. From what I saw at least."

"Yeah, it was." I wasn't sure what this guy was getting at. "You
buddies... or more?"

"Just friends. Fraternity brothers. We've fooled around a couple of times,
but I'm not like Charlie."

"How so?"

"With other guys, I can take it or leave it."

"... and Charlie..."

"... he can't leave it. He balls his girlfriend enough so the guys won't
call him a fag, but..."

Tired and impatient, I interrupted. "Look bud, I'm sorry to keep you
waiting out here all this time, but if you just stopped me to make sure I
knew you were straight when I don't know you from Adam. So if you'll
pardon..."

"That's not why I stopped you." His voice was soft all of a sudden, but
insistent. Urgent.

The guy leaned back against the rail and shuffled his foot in the sand left
on the cement floor. "I can't believe I'm about to tell a perfect stranger
this, but like I say, it was hot watching you guys earlier... and I'm drunk
and I'm horny... and well, I was wondering if you might give me the same
treatment."

That wasn't what I expected from this strapping frat guy. "You want me to
fuck you?"

I'm sure the disbelief showed in my eyes.

"Yeah, I want you to fuck me. Now I said it. Christ, I must be horny." He
paused, then said, "Oh, I guess you must pretty spent after doing Logan."

Until he said it, I thought I was sated for the evening. But the thought of
fucking this dumb lug sent the blood rushing to my prick faster than
anything.

"Where? Back in your room."

"Oh no. I don't want Charlie to know. Around the corner's a broken ice
machine. No one goes over there."

In the dark nook, our bodies clashed and hands gripped flesh. In a flash,
I'd maneuvered his clothes off and turned him around. His ass wasn't a
perfect bubble butt like Charlie Logan's but it sure felt good gripping my
hard cock. I couldn't believe that not even a half hour after dicking his
buddy, I was gonna get the frat brother, too. Two for one package, I
chuckled to myself as I hawked a good wad of spit. Then again. I needed
that cock good and slick if I was gonna breach him without lube. I squatted
down and gave a quick rim job. It wasn't deep and slow like with Logan,
just enough to prep. Standing up, I guided myself into the hold of his
sphincter and pushed.

"Christ!" he grunted, and I clapped my hand over his mouth.

"Sshh," I consoled him as my hips held superstill, letting his ring relax
and get used to me. I talked sweet nothings in his ear, telling him how he
was doing fine and what his stud ass really wanted my thick, hard prick. It
must have worked, cause within four minutes I was balls deep and ready to
rock and roll.

Frat Guy Number Two was horny. I could feel it, as I held him in my arms
and fucked. His muscles twitched and his balls were drawn tight. The guy
melted in my hold and I watched as long white ropes of semen painted the
cinderblock wall in front of us.

"Good show," I encouraged as I pumped away. I wouldn't be long.

 ************

When I got back to the hotel room, Dad was sitting up in bed reading, his
bare chest speckled with gray hairs glistening in the low light from the
lamp.

"Hi son," he greeted, putting down his book and sitting up straight. Even
under the covers, his thighs were magnificent trunks of musculature. "Have
a good time?"

I stripped off my shirt, then the rest of my clothes. What I craved most
then was a shower. I gave a thumbs-up sign as I went into the bathroom to
start the water.

Dad smiled. "I hope the guy can walk tomorrow."

"You got two guys to worry about."

"Fuck me," he chuckled. "To be nineteen."

I showered and dried off, then joined Dad in bed. He'd taken off his
reading glasses already and was wiping his eyes.

"How about you, Dad? How was your night?" I hoped he wasn't mad. I mean,
it's crazy, he told me to go off and get laid, but a part of me was
insecure and worried he'd be jealous.

"Good, son. Sometimes it's nice to have some time alone and just think, you
know?"

"Yeah, Dad, I do."

"Come 'ere, Jimbo," he said, pulling me into a hug. Our bare chests
clashed, but it wasn't sexual, at least not immediately. It was some other
level of bonding.

"Dad?"

"Yes?"

"You want to screw one of them?"

"The guys you did tonight?"

"Not them specifically, but the guys walking around this week. I don't mind
if you wanna."

"I know. That's what you told me yesterday morning."

I paused. "Guess I did. I just want to let you know that it's
cool. Really."

"That's not why I sent you out tonight, you know."

"Actually I don't know why you sent me out tonight."

"You regret it?"

I shook my head and realized he had a point.

"You're young and you're horny and you're still growing Jimbo."

I didn't know what to say. Dad gave a knowing grimace. Slowly, he peeled
back the covers and the bedsheet. His large pulsing erection plopped
straight up from his groin, his massive balls drawn up to the stalk.

"Too tired to give your father a good night blowjob?"

"No, sir," I replied. I kissed all along his chest and torso as I shifted
around in the bed to kneel between his spread legs. I took hold of the
hairy, powerful legs as I bent down and lapped at his cock. As I sucked at
the head, salty sap oozed into my mouth.

"Man Dad, how long you been leaking?"

"Since the minute you walked out that door. Been thinking about what you
might be doing to some innocent college kid."

From that vantage, I saw nothing but perfection. His handsome face
imploring me silently to continue. His broad chest that made me feel so
secure and so horned up at the same time. His hard gut on which I rested my
chin. The giant phallus right in front of me, the scepter of power that was
responsible for me and my brothers so long ago. The full, testosterone
pumping nuts. I gripped his long, meaty cock in my throwing hand and pulled
it to my mouth. Positioned his flared head at my lips I looked straight
into his eyes.

"You know, Slugger, it's gonna take no more than two minutes before I shoot
my wad in your mouth."

With that, I began to swallow my butch, ex-Navy officer father to the hilt.