Date: Sun, 6 Mar 2016 21:44:03 +0000 (UTC)
From: a4f101@yahoo.com
Subject: Patriot Games

Here's a story taken from my Tumblr, at a4f101.tumblr.com/storytime. You
can find this one, and the pic that inspired it, here:
http://a4f101.tumblr.com/post/113629410749/

This story is purely a work of adult erotic fantasy, copyright me 2016. I
own it and all legal rights to it. If you're under the age of majority in
your jursdiction, please come back when you're of legal age.

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I love hearing from you guys. a4f101@yahoo.com. Enjoy...

*****

"Well God Bless America," I laughed as he walked into the room, stripped
down to a pair of Stars & Stripes trunks that clung beautifully to his
athletic body. I couldn't resist, stepping close and running my hands over
them, feeling the way they hugged the tops of his muscled thighs, cupped
his round athlete's ass in back, and most of all, were slowly stretching as
his big young cock grew to fill the pouch.

"Mmmm," he said, grinning as one hand explored his undies, the other
running up the ridged muscles of his belly, through the fine fur on his
strong, tight pecs. Thicker, fuller than I remembered it being, getting to
be like mine, down to the same auburn-brown color. "You like?"

"I've never felt more patriotic in my life, kid," I growled as we leaned in
to kiss again, like we'd been doing ever since we'd got here to his
place. His lips parted eagerly to my tongue, meeting it with his own, and
our kiss smacked loud and went long as I cupped both of his tight glutes
and pulled him in, his big growing bulge rubbing against the one in my
uniform pants. Stars and stripes bulging up to meet digital camo. Hell of a
picture that'd make. Something to remember for later on.

"God, I missed you," he panted when we came up for air, as my lips ran up
and down the strong triangles of his traps, kissing and nibbling and
licking, tasting his athletic beauty, devouring it like I knew I'd be
devouring the rest of him in short order. One of his hands squeezed the
thickness of my arm under my uniform, the other rubbing the buzzcut hairs
on the back of my head, auburn-brown like his, flecked here and there with
some steely gray.

"Missed you too, big guy," I whispered before kissing him again, a deep,
sensual, wet plunge of tongues, dancing slow and sweet like I'd been
dreaming of ever since we'd last kissed, the morning I deployed this last
time. By now, my hands were kneading, spreading the tight, steely muscles
of his glutes, fingers tracing the valley of his cleft through his sexy
undies. He looked amazing in them, of course, but I wanted him out of them
even more.

My son's fingers undid my buttons with practiced ease, his hands
respectful, almost reverent as his fingers traced over the name tag on the
right breast, the U.S. Army tag on the left. The patches on my
shoulder. Pushing it off my big shoulders, then hanging it over the back of
the chair nearby, before moving back to trace my strong body, a slightly
thicker, scaled-up version of his, through the green T-shirt. Grazing over
my nipples, then leaning down to suck on them through the fabric. Moving up
to squeeze the thickness of my biceps.

"I've been flying for 19 hours, buddy," I said huskily as he licked and
lapped at the cotton clinging to my body. "I'm not gonna be too fresh."

He made a husky, sexy growling noise, the same manly sound that he'd
surprised me with our first time together, one hazy, humid day in the
little house on base down in Georgia, back when he was a trimmer,
soccer-playing Army brat. Surprised me a lot that day, but it had felt
right, and damn good from the start, so easy and deep, a natural extension
of the strong bond between us. My brainy, sexy kid, always by my side, from
base to base, all over the world, just him and me taking on all the
challenges, together. Here for me now still, in his little grad student
apartment here in DC, here for his Dad, waiting for me to come home like
he'd always done. He was going to get to experience that a whole lot more
real soon. I was saving the news for later, about my new job here in
town. No more tours. No more long separations. No more dingy housing
assignments on bumfuck bases in armpit Southern towns. As much time as we
wanted, if he wanted it. I had a hunch he did, hopefully as much as me.

The reverent, almost tender way he stripped me down, removing each item of
my uniform and setting it to one side, neatly and respectfully, always made
me smile. And then, it was just him and me in our underwear, my son's
early-20s body a surprising twin to mine at the same age, when I was a new
father, holding him for the first time, never imagining how close we'd grow
to be. Never imagining that one day, he'd be stepping in close, his young
bulge throbbing big and hard against mine, pushing my arm up to inhale my
musky man scent, lapping his tongue through the dark fur there, making that
hungry, husky growl. My baby boy, all man now. All mine, maybe. Hopefully.

His tongue tasted deeply of me when it slipped into my mouth, and we
enjoyed it together, slow and wet, flavoring our spit, before I pushed his
arm up and returned the favor. No deodorant, just clean, young
richness. The taste of a man. Shared between us in another deep, searching
kiss, as he began gently nudging me backwards to his bed. I landed on my
back with a grunt and a laugh, shared with him as he climbed up, straddling
my thick thigh, to kiss me some more, deep and tangy and wet.

"Glad you're home, Sergeant," he murmured against my lips as his hips
rolled and ground his big bulge against mine. "Glad you're safe. Glad
you're with me."

"So am I, Soldier," I grinned, loving his big smile at the nickname I'd
been using for him since he was a kid. Always his dad's little soldier,
even as a big young man in his own right now. "Why don't you show me what
I've been missing over there, big guy?"

He grinned wolfishly, slipping down between my big thighs, spreading them
apart, pulling me towards the edge of the bed with surprising strength,
those big young biceps bulging beautifully.

"Sir, yes sir," he grinned, snapping off a smart salute, and plunging
face-first into my crotch with that hungry, husky growl, the star-spangled
banner on his underwear standing very proud indeed.