Date: Mon, 25 Apr 2005 12:05:08 +0100
From: Story Teller <storymeister@gmail.com>
Subject: THE CHIP gay incest

The usual copyright rules apply to this and all my stories.
Comments are very welcome


THE CHIP

I've never been into younger men, always preferring my own  age group or
older, at the age of 38 my preference is for guys 35-45, anything outwith
that span doesn't appeal to me: that's what makes the whole story so
weird.

It started in a gay pub in Nottingham two months ago where I have been
living and working for ten years.   I was having a drink at the bar with
some mates when I heard a loud clear laugh down the other end.  I turned
to see who was laughing and saw a young guy I had never seen before but
who looked vaguely familiar.   I stared for a couple of seconds trying to
work out who he reminded me of then he turned and caught me so I looked
away.  Later one of my mates said, "Don't look now but there is a young
guy at the bottom of the bar devouring you with his eyes".   I knew who
it was so I didn't look but I did steal a glance now and then in the bar
mirror, he definitely reminded me of someone.

A couple of drinks later, a mate said, "That young guy down there, he
looks like you".  I turned and looked again, he was nothing like me, but
then again he did sort of resemble me when I was his age, although he was
shorter, darker, but across the eyes and around the mouth, yes he bore a
slight likeness: I was happy, now I knew who he reminded me of.

As the evening wore on, and someone was in the middle of telling a joke,
a voice behind me said, "I thought I heard a Scottish Accent, where are
you from"?   I turned and there stood the young man from the other end of
the bar.  "Outside Glasgow", I said, (when in doubt, be obscure, that's
my motto).   "My Mum is Scottish", he said for the want of something to
say.  "Nice", I commented.  He was not easily put off, though, he stood
his ground and talked, asked questions, joked until I began to think "I
like his cheek", and thawed a bit, I did not fancy the boy, but I liked
him.   He told me he was visiting friends from university, staying for a
weekend; he asked about my work, where I stayed etc, offered to buy me a
drink, told me his name was Darren.   Finally he said, "Look, I've made
myself as obvious as possible, I am starting to sound cheap, but I'm
going to stand here and pester you all night until you invite me home
with you".   I burst out laughing then, anyone else might have got a
barbed reply, even a bit of violence if they refused to move but he was
just so cocksure and brazen I had to admit that I liked his style.

I was ready for leaving anyway, so I said "You are cute and funny.  I
don't go for cute but I like funny, so if you want to come back, have a
drink, maybe something to eat then you are more than welcome,".   He
settled for that and we left and walked to my flat.  He never stopped
talking but strangely he wasn't boring.   He asked questions without
sounding nosey, he commented on every answer.  He told me he was studying
English literature and I told him how much I envied him, that was what I
had wanted to do but had settled on a science course because it offered
better prospects.

When we got into the flat he looked around like a prospective buyer.  He
looked at the drinks bar and said "Aren't you going to pour me a drink?"
I said "I don't mind cheeky bastards but I hate lazy bastards, pour your
own, so he did, fixing a whisky and soda for me without being told.   I
offered food but he wasn't hungry so I threw some crisps and nuts into
some bowls and put them on the table.  Again he made a play for me but I
explained carefully and politely that although he was a very handsome and
sexy young man, he just wasn't my type.   We chatted for several hours
which seemed like 15 minutes and before I knew it, it was too late for
him to leave.

I told him that I wasn't keen on sending anyone off into the night, but I
could make up a perfectly comfortable bed on the sofa for him which he
accepted.   As I fetched a sheet and pillow from the cupboard he said,
"You know, after I leave here tomorrow, you won't have any regrets, but
one day you will remember the young guy who slept on your sofa and you
will wonder for a second what might have happened if you had taken him to
bed".   I smiled and said, "Well, I guess I'll have to wonder", but I
remembered a chance I turned down with someone else several years ago
which had haunted me since.   I left him with the bedding, showed him
where everything was in the bathroom and told him he could have it in 5
minutes when I was finished.  As I left the bathroom I called to him that
it was free.   A few minutes later I heard the extractor fan that kicks
on when the bathroom light is switched off then my bedroom door opened.
I looked up expecting him to ask for a towel or say goodnight or
something but he just stood there, naked.

"I decided when I saw you looking at me that I wanted to have sex with
you, and I'm not leaving without trying.   You can throw me out, you can
ignore me, but I really want you.  I don't want a relationship or long
time commitment, just a hot session".  Unfortunately when he strode over
and pulled my cover back the sight of his tight muscular body and hard
cock had set me off so I couldn't lie and say he didn't turn me on.  He
jumped on me like a cat on a wounded bird and devoured my face while
straddling my stomach.   He moved to my throat and I had to pull him off
before he marked me so he kept on to my nipples.  I was beginning to
think he was going to work them until he got milk but eventually he slid
on down to grasp my balls and slide my cock into his mouth.   I was about
to turn him so that I could reciprocate when he pulled off, moved up
until his cock was against mine.  "Hey, look, you are taller and broader
than me but our cocks are exactly the same size".   He was right, they
were the same length, just over six inches, diameter four inches, and
even the heads looked the same.  I grabbed him and pulled him round so
that I could get that dick into my mouth and we nuzzled and sucked on
each other until we were gasping for breath but neither of us would
finish.   He looked up: "Do you like getting fucked"?  he asked.  "It has
been known", I replied, "But I think to give is better than to receive".
    He just laughed then said "Chances each then, me first".  He grabbed
my legs and lifted them but I shouted, "Hold on, slow down, there is some
KY and condoms in the top drawer of the bedside cabinet.   He took out
two condoms, slipped one under the pillow then put the other one on.  He
took the KY and greased my hole working some inside me.   "Easy, kid,
it's been a while", I said and he gently opened me with his fingers
before  sliding the head of his dick into my tight ring.  He was
experienced enough to wait then slowly push into me until he was embedded
totally.  After I got used to it (it really had been a while) I enjoyed
again the feeling of being filled, possessed that only a good fuck can
bring.   He started his rhythmic probing slowly but soon built up, rising
up and driving down into me until I was panting and sighing with
pleasure  His efforts redoubled as he got nearer to a climax and
eventually he paused, pushed as hard as he could then held himself in me
as his cock throbbed and spurted.   This was enough to get my own dick
into top gear and I spouted my sperm over both of us.  It took him about
ten minutes to relax enough to withdraw and he slowly licked me clean.
He started immediately sucking on my cock but I was too sore and had to
pull him off.  "Come on, it's your turn now" he said.   "Hold on", I
said, "Obviously you are not used to sleeping with thirty eight year old
men", I laughed, "I may need a few minutes to recover".  We kissed and
caressed for about twenty minutes and I started to get exited again.
Darren noticed immediately and began to suck on me again.  When I was
hard he put his hand under the pillow, took the second condom and slipped
it onto me then straddled me and positioned his hole over my cock.   He
pressed down but nothing was happening.  I was beginning to think that he
was still a virgin when, with a 'Pop' I was in to the hilt.   He moaned
and writhed on me as I raised my hips against him and we worked against
each other.  I tried to delay as long as I could but to no avail, he
brought me to a glorious climax despite myself and shot sperm over my
face and chest at the same time.

Afterwards we cuddled, me spooning into his back and we fell asleep
together.  In the night I awoke from a beautiful dream to realise my
dream was reality; I really was being sucked off.   Later when I realised
my hand was wrapped around a hard cock I returned the favour.

In the morning we awoke about seven o'clock and I started getting ready
for work.  When I returned to the bedroom he was standing looking at a
group of fifteen photographs I have framed and hanging on my wall, each
one a memory of my life.  He pointed to one of me taken at my eighteenth
birthday party with my two 'best mates' The three musketeers, friends
until death; we don't even exchange Christmas cards now.   "That's my
uncle Steven", he said.  I went over and sure enough he was pointing at
Stevie Bennett, my best mate.   "He's my mum's brother, her name is
Margaret", he added.  For a second I thought, "of course, that explains
everything, he must remind me of Stevie", but I looked again at those
eyes, that mouth, the single dimple on the left side of his face and it
flooded back to me.   Just after my eighteenth birthday we went to
another party, Stevie's younger sister was there, we got drunk, I "did
the deed" with her.  The family had moved south about a month later and
we lost touch.   "Your uncle Steven was my best pal", I said and told him
a few stories of the things we got up to.

"What age are you anyway, Darren" I asked.  I'm nineteen, nearly twenty",
he replied.   My sums added up.  "And is your dad Scottish too?  I
asked.  "No, my mum met him after they moved to England, actually he is
my step-dad, my mum had me before she met him".   My mind was in turmoil,
I felt sick.  "What's up, you look terrible" he asked.  "Oh it's just a
stomach thing I get in the morning, I'll be alright.

I made breakfast for us both, insisting he sit and eat it: I was running
late but so fucking what.   I suggested to Darren that maybe he shouldn't
tell his parents or his uncle Steven about what happened but he assured
me that although they knew he was gay he wasn't in the habit of telling
them of one-night stands. I pushed my luck a bit further and told him
that his mother and uncle both knew I was gay (not true, I didn't
discover that I was until I was twenty three) so it might be better that
he didn't mention meeting me at all because they might put two and two
together.   He agreed with that as well but as he left he said "Maybe we
can do this again".  I probably sounded too brutal when I said, "I don't
think so, as I told you, I'm into older guys, you were a decent fuck but
I prefer the real thing.

So there you have it.  Is he my son?  Did my calculations work out right?
  Or was it all a terrible coincidence, maybe Margaret got humped by
someone else about the same time and the look thing, well, after all he
wasn't identical to me.   Fuck, maybe one of my cousins had a romp with
Margaret, yes that would explain it.