Date: Tue, 3 Jan 2017 15:31:35 +0000 (UTC)
From: a4f101@yahoo.com
Subject: 12 Tales of Christmas: Hot Lunch

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/135931735419/

You can also find a whole lot more of my stories here on Nifty - look for
'a4f101' in the Prolific Authors listing.

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 jurisdiction, please come back when you're of legal age.

Nifty is an incredible free service that depends on your donations to
survive. It changed my life, and maybe it's changed yours too. Please help
them to keep providing this awesome resource for all of us:
http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html

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

*****

So I drew the short straw for duty this year. I didn't mind so much -
Christmas was a lot mellower now the kids were grown and in college, and
not so prone to getting up before dawn, desperate to see what was waiting
for them under the tree. My wife had propped up her iPad on the coffee
table in the living room so I could Skype in when Shawn and Mandy finally
stirred their asses from bed for the gift exchange this morning, so that
worked out fine. Plus, I was pulling double overtime pay, and with campus
basically deserted, there wasn't much to do but man the desk, and go out on
patrol every so often. Throw in a few extra paid leave days for my trouble,
and I could take Janey to Jamaica for her birthday this year. As the
youngest officer, Connors had drawn short straw with me, so we traded off
on drive-arounds, and otherwise kept each other company. He was a good kid,
young and enthusiastic, and he seemed to have taken to me as kind of a
mentor figure. So all in all, it wasn't the worst shift in the world - we'd
have plenty of them, once the kids started to flood back onto campus in the
new year.

The front door to the station swung open, and there was Shawn, carrying
some complicated Tupperware contraption of Janey's and a Trader Joe's bag,
a smile on his face.

"Hey guys," he said. "Mom didn't think it was right that you wouldn't get a
home-cooked meal for Christmas lunch, so she's hooked you up."

I had to smile at that. Janey was one hell of a cook, and missing her lunch
was my only real regret about pulling duty today. Connors was smiling too,
because he was a big young dude and perpetually hungry, looking big-eyed
and excited as Shawn came around the desk and started laying everything
out. Turkey, potatoes, macaroni and cheese, stuffing, green bean casserole,
and slices of each of her pies - sweet potato and
chocolate-bourbon-pecan. My stomach growled out loud at the sight, and
Connors was practically drooling down the front of his uniform. Shawn
pulled a jug of sweet tea out of the bag, some Christmasy disposable plates
and cutlery, and gestured at the spread with a flourish.

"Let's eat, guys," he said, and we practically fell on the food together. I
loved that Shawn had held off from eating with the girls at home to come
eat with me. Loved my big kid anyway, was proud as hell of him. Damn glad
he wasn't going to school here in Gainesville, either, so I wouldn't have
to be in the uncomfortable position of encountering him in the course of my
day-to-day. He had a good head on those big shoulders of his, and I knew he
was generally making good decisions down there at State in Tallahassee. I
knew his coach pretty well, and he kept the baseball team in pretty good
check, unlike the clusterfuck free-for-all that was their football program.

Connors wasn't but a couple years older than Shawn, and I just sat back and
ate, enjoying listening to them talking about football, their Jeeps, young
dude stuff. Proud as hell of the man my son had become - was still
becoming, really. Smart, confident, thoughtful, engaged. And not to
mention, handsome as hell, if I did say so myself. Built big and strong
naturally, even before he'd started bulking up for varsity baseball. The
spitting image of me at that age - or at least, if I'd had access to the
kind of high-tech, top-of-the-line weight training facilities he did back
in my own college days.

The three of us ate handsomely, and still there was plenty left over when
we set our plates down and rubbed our full bellies contentedly.

"Nobody to fix you Christmas dinner tonight, Connors?" I asked, and he
shook his head a little ruefully.

"Just me, sir," he said. "O'Malleys is supposed to be open later tonight -
might head over there and get a burger and a beer."

"Well, take the leftovers here with you, bud," I said, pushing the
Tupperware Shawn had reboxed over to him. "And if you ever need a hot meal,
you know Janey would love to take care of you."

"Thank you, sir," he said, ducking his handsome blond head with a blush and
a smile. "Why don't y'all take a little time, go outside and enjoy the
weather? I've got the desk covered."

"Sounds good to me," Shawn said, patting his full, but still perfectly flat
belly and stretching contentedly. "Can't have you guys getting a dose of
the Itis and falling asleep on shift, right?"

We had a good chuckle at that, then Shawn and I picked up the rest of the
lunch stuff to take out to his car, and headed out into the warm
early-afternoon air.

"How long you think you got?" Shawn said as the door swung closed behind
us.

"I think I can take a little while," I said with a grin that Shawn
returned. I knew what was on his mind. As soon as he'd come through the
door carrying all that food, his T-shirt stretched across the big plates of
his pecs, that smile on his face, it had been very much on my mind too.

His Wrangler was parked around the side of the building, shielded from view
by the brick wall and a long hedge running along the side of the station
lot. We put the lunch stuff in the passenger-side footwell, and when he
closed the door and turned to me with that big smile of his, I was more
than ready for him. I slipped my arms around his tight waist, loving the
happy little grunt he let out when I squeezed his muscular young jock form,
and met his parted lips with mine.

We both grunted into the kiss, our tongues dancing lazily, then with more
intent, as I backed him up against the bright yellow half-door of the
Wrangler and pushed our incestuous kiss even deeper. His tongue tasted like
turkey and iced tea, but he could have tasted like mud and I'd have
devoured his tongue just as eagerly. He was a damn good kisser, like I'd
been told I was, and like me, he really loved to do it - you could tell by
the instant bones we were both throwing, as he propped one foot on the
Wrangler's running board, spreading his big baseball player's thighs a
little, his hands cupping my ass through my uniform pants and pulling my
groin up harder against his.

"Damn, wish we had time to go someplace, bud," I grunted when we parted for
a minute, running my hands up and down his thick lats, down to the
deep-dimpled sides of his thick-muscled ass, as he palmed mine too.

"Who says we have to go anywhere, Dad?" he said with a mischievous grin
that I couldn't help return.

"What, you mean..." I said, and he nodded, grinning wider.

I looked around. The lot was empty except for my truck, Connors' Cherokee,
the old unmarked CVPI, and the newer marked unit me and Connors were
trading off patrols in today. Campus was absolutely dead, nothing stirring
but the birds and the squirrels. The air was typically Florida-warm. Not a
soul around, but me and my boy. I felt my cock twitch in my pants, and I
know Shawn felt it too, because he throbbed his against me right back.

"I've always wanted to do it with you at the station, Dad," he grinned,
leaning in to buzz his lips up the side of my neck to my ear. "This could
be, like... my Christmas present, yeah?"

I turned my head to meet his lips, and fed him my tongue, thick and wet and
deep. Sure, I'd had some fun in station buildings over the years. We all
did, or tried to, at one time or another. I'd fucked a load out of my boy
on the back seat of that old unmarked Crown Vic, in fact, one evening after
one of his baseball practices back in high school. He'd cleaned up the cum
in the garage afterwards with a smile and a revived hardon, and then I'd
fucked another load up into him with him bent over the trunk, his high,
tight, perfectly muscled jock tail arched up to meet my thrusts.

"So... you wanna do this right here, huh buddy?" I growled in his ear,
reaching don to palm the big bulge in his sorts, feeling him throb and
shiver as I slow-rubbed his big young piece. "Show the whole world how this
big jock stud likes his Daddy to fuck him?"

"Ah, sir," he moaned, then attacked my mouth hungrily. "Not
here... c'mon..."

Shawn took my hand and dragged me across to the edge of the parking lot,
where the cruisers were parked. There was actually a short hedge here,
between the lot and the little side street that ran past the station. I
figured he wanted to hop in the marked Crown Vic, as he pulled me to him to
kiss again, me pressing his big, healthy young body up against the car. But
no.

"You remember that night in the garage?" he said, grinning, nodding his
head at the unmarked Crown Vic parked next to us. "That was that one,
yeah?"

"You think I'd forget a thing like that, buddy?" I growled, leaning in to
lick up the side of his neck, tasting the healthy sweat forming there.

"I still jack off thinking about it, Dad," he growled back at me, and then
we just had to kiss again. My cock felt like a foot long in my uniform
trousers, ready to bust out and go buck wild on my studly jock kid. Didn't
matter where. Didn't matter if there were a hundred people and a CNN camera
crew there - as worked up as he was getting me, I'd do him just the
same. The little fucker was every inch my boy, alright - a lusty, horny
chip off the old block.

He slid around the back of the marked car, planting his hands flat on the
trunklid like he was being arrested, as he spread his long, muscled legs
apart and pushed his ass up in the air, shifting it from side by side,
knowing exactly how the thick muscles of his jock ass looked in those shiny
black nylon basketball shorts of his.

"You looking to get frisked, huh kid?" I said, voice deep and low and husky
like it always got for him at times like these. I ran my hand over the
firm, rounded muscle of his tail, the edge of my fingers slipping into his
cleft, giving him a solid squeeze, making him moan and push back against my
hand.

"Not here for cop games, Dad," he moaned, looking over his shoulder at
me. "Love that shit... but no... I just want you to..."

"You want me to take care of you right, huh son?" I said in his ear, as I
pressed up tight against that spectacular ass of his, letting him feel the
hard cop steel in my pants as it ground up against his crack. I bet those
nylon shorts made him good and sweaty in there. I licked my lips at the
prospect.

"Fuck yeah... like you always have, sir... Dad..." he grunted, grinding
back against me.

I pushed back off him, grabbed hold of his shorts and the underwear
beneath, whatever they were, and yanked them down, exposing that big, sexy
ass of his to the warm afternoon air. He moaned at that, and again, deeper
when I clapped my hands to the warm flesh of them. I loved the trace of
jiggle to his butt, all that steely, natural muscle he'd always had, built
up on the squat rack since early high school, now getting a nice little
layer of perfect flesh over the top of it. The ass of a man, not the
hard-carved piece of sculpture he'd had as a teenager. I'd loved that ass,
but I loved this one even more.

"Anybody else fucking this stud ass, kid?" I growled, groping and squeezing
it, feeling the faint traces of sweat on the skin, my mouth starting to
water. "Your coach? Your teammates? Your frat bros?"

"No sir," he practically panted. "Just you. Only ever you."

"You know you can, son," I said, leaning up along his broad back, my lips
pressed to the side of his ear, loving how he shivered at the sensations,
the depth of my voice burrowing into his head. "I don't mind. So long as
you tell me about it."

"I would, sir... Dad... but I don't need them. Not now. Just you. Now."

"Anything for you, baby boy," I half-whispered in his ear, and he quivered
and moaned a little as I slid down, crouching down behind his upraised
tail, laying my hands on it and leaning in to lick his big, muscly
cheeks. Fuck yeah. Salty, tangy, that trace of midday musk about him. The
taste of a healthy young man. It had always tweaked my cock, bigtime, even
if I did love to bury my face in a woman's cunt and lick her to orgasm,
before letting her sweet, soft, wet insides encase my cock. Yeah... I loved
it all. And right now, my boy was what I loved best, ripe and rich and
ready for me, like he always had been.

I knew he'd showered this morning just before he came over, because I could
smell his bodywash, mixing in with the richness of his musk, an
intoxicating brew of masculine scents that had my mouth watering even
more. I couldn't hold back. Sure, I'd eaten handsomely at lunch just now,
but I was hungry for something more. The other homemade meal my boy had
brought me. So I pushed his thick, muscly cheeks apart and dove right in,
licking, lapping, sucking on his crack, his inner cheeks, his taint, all of
him. I left hickeys up the deep insides of his glutes, making him gasp,
overlaying his sweat with my spit, then devouring all of it, as I worked
down to his hole. Always so tight, like it was cherry, though we'd burned
that bridge years ago, him and me. Smooth back then, but nicely dusted with
traces of dark brown fur now, that fanned up the insides of his salty cleft
to the small of his back. Real light now, but I knew he was gonna have a
nice little welcome mat like I did back there.

His hole was so damn tight around my tongue, as I made the thick, wet
muscle that lived inside my mouth into as hard a point as I could, licking
him open, making him bloom for me, before pushing it up inside of
him. Immediately I could taste coconut, which threw me for a minute, until
I thought about that Trader Joe's bag he'd brought to the station, which
made me think of the jar of Trader Joe's coconut oil Janey had brought
home, which I'd held in my hand and frowned at, wondering what the fuck you
used it for. And now I knew. Probably not one of the widely advertised
uses, but damn, it sure was rich and slick up inside of Shawn. Tropical
tasting, in a way. I chuckled at the audacity of my boy, no doubt secreting
the jar of oil to the bathroom or his bedroom, and sliding his gooped-up
fingers inside of himself before he came over. Little stud fucker was
prepared, and bold, and I loved him even harder for his ballsy, pervy
audacity. It was the side of him he apparently only let me really see, and
I felt a complex mix of pride, awe, lust and honor, as I feasted richly on
his tight, coconut-slicked hole, spreading it all over my tongue and
further around his insides, as my clean-shaven chin ground and worked
against his sweaty, furry taint.

He moaned and bucked his ass back against my face, and when I reached up
under the fork of his thighs to cup his big, smooth-shaven balls - kids
these days... - I found the big, healthy throb of his cock, a beautiful
piece of young man's meat that was a virtual twin of mine. I wrapped my
hand round it, feeling it throbbing and a little sticky, making him
practically whimper as I gave it a slide with my hand, and tongued my way
up inside his pucker.

"Don't!" he yelped sharply, reaching down to grab hold of my wrist with a
steely batter's grip. "Not now... not yet... fuck it out of me,
Dad... sir..."

Even deep in the fog of lust like I was, like getting physical with my boy
always got me, I still had to remember that I was on duty, in uniform, and
technically out in public. Even if there was literally nobody around to see
us. I gave Shawn's ass a solid smack that set off a hot little jiggle in
the ample flesh of it, then look around in all directions. Still nobody but
the squirrels, and they didn't give a shit, one way or the other. They were
just trying to get their nut, just like I was. I grinned, then turned back
to Shawn's rump, licking my way up his cleft, over the small of his back,
tracing the sweat up the length of his spine, pushing his T-shirt up to the
back of his neck as I went, as my hand fumbled with my pants.

"You wanna get fucked right out in the open by our own Dad, huh jock?" I
murmured in his ear, as the weight of my belt pulled my pants to the
ground, unveiling the huge, leaky bulge of my Dad cock in my briefs. I
pressed it, all hot and fleshy and hard, up against my son's deep crack,
pulling another moan and a slow backwards grind out of him.

"Fuck yeah, sir," he moaned. "Make me cum all over your cruiser, Dad. Mark
it up with your son's fuckin' cum. Like we did the other one."

I loved that he kissed his mother with that mouth, and even more that he
kissed me with it. Definitely a different kind of kiss, to be sure. Janey
liked to get frisky in bed, and liked to hear me growl out lusty, nasty
things when she was really wound up - hell, she was even randier in middle
age than she'd been in our early twenties - but nobody talked dirty back to
me like Shawn did. Last time I'd been able to raunch out verbally so
consistently was with my old fuckbud back at the Academy, and doing it with
Shawn was ten times as hot, because after all, I was the one who'd taught
him how to speak in the first place. His first word had been "Dada", and
I'd taught him how to use the word "Daddy" too.

I took hold of his strong ballplayer's hand and brought it back to my
crotch, where he took over, rubbing and squeezing it, feeling the cock that
had made him, all big and wet and aching hard for him and his sweet,
muscular young ass.

"Put that fucker in me, Dad," he grunted over his shoulder at me, fishing
around until he'd hauled it out. I pushed my briefs the rest of the way
down to my knees, stroked a big pearl of precum out of the head, and rubbed
the wet tip all over his spitsoaked hole.

"Like this, son?" I growled. "Toted your stud jock ass all the way over
here, all lubed up, ready for Daddy to fuck you, huh baby boy?"

"Been thinking about it for days," he moaned, his head hanging low,
gripping the trunklid of the cruiser as he pushed his ass back to meet my
cock. I slid my big hand up his spine, taking a firm hold of the back of
his thick neck, keeping him in place as I nudged the blunt, drooling tip of
my cock up more firmly against his hole. His beautiful muscles tensed all
over, so I gave his big glute another smack to loosen him up, and then with
a grunt and a push and a low, long moan from him, I was on my way up into
him.

"Oh Jesus," he moaned, bucking his big ass up and back on me as I sank into
him, until my hips were cushioned by the thickness of that spectacular
ballplayer's ass of his. I slid my arms round him, running my hands up the
big, powerful muscles of his torso, cupping his jock tits and palming his
nips as my lips nuzzled that special spot just behind the point of his jaw
that drive him nuts. And then we got down to fucking.

The cruiser began to rock on its springs, groaning a little, the big sedan
bouncing against the parking brake a little as I thrust up inside my
boy. The sounds of my hips slapping against the flesh of my ass floated up
in the quiet air, the rhythmic slap-slap-slap backtracked by his groans, my
grunts, the stream of low, growling dirty talk between us, and then the
hungry, wet smacking of our sloppy kisses. I took hold of his square jaw
and turned his sweaty, adoring face back to me, admiring his handsomeness,
the strong echoes of my own 20-year-old features in his as he panted, eyes
locked on mine, foggy with his fatherlust. Slipped my thumb over his full
lips, growling at the way he sucked on it like he had when he was a baby,
before hooking his mouth open wide and spitting hard into it. He moaned at
that, swallowing lustily, and when I slid my other hand down the flexing
muscles of his stomach, through the growing sweaty tangle of his bush, and
found the throbbing steel of his cock, he was flowing precum like a faucet,
balls high and tight and big with his impending young load.

"You ready to cum, baby boy?" I growled hotly. "Show your Dad the cum you
make for him?"

"Fuck yessssss," he hissed. "Make me cum, Dad. Make your son shoot for
you. Like you always have."

I growled again, deeper, the animal in me clawing, biting, tearing his way
out of me, as I locked my arm round his big torso, bit down his big hard
shoulder through his T-shirt. Then, his cock spurting pre in my hand, I
fucked my way home inside of him. Felt his big young dick throb, and
clapped my other hand over his mouth as it opened wide to wail out his
load, his lips pressed into the sweat of my palm as he shouted out his
cum. His hole clenched rhythmically around the thickness of my cock, and I
heard the hard wet splats of his big young load painting the cruiser's
trunklid and bumper. I didn't have to stroke it, just hold it, and he was
jetting cum for me, his hole grasping around my dick, squeezing, milking
the heavy fatherload out of my churning balls. I stifled my own moans
against his shoulder, soaking the fabric of his shirt through with my spit
there as I grunted and yelled and came, shot after shot of the seed that
had created him twenty-and-change years ago implanted inside his warm,
clenching guts.

"Fuckin' fuck!" he gasped as I held him through the postcum shivers. A
little moment of tender connection, amid the sweaty, animal mating. He
leaned back against me, and I peered down over his shoulder, both of us
examining the thick pearly shots of jock cum dripping down the Crown Vic's
rear end. He let out the low, loping chuckle he always did in the
afterglow, as I wrapped my arms around the sweaty muscles of his
midsection, rubbing his thick-cut abs slowly, nuzzling the sweat on the
side of his neck.

"Damn, that was some Christmas present," he grinned, craning his head to
the side to look at me. I smiled back, leaned in and pecked his lips, which
turned into a slow, warm kiss. Not a long one though, because now in the
afterglow, I was very aware that I was standing there with my trousers
around my ankles, ass in the wind, pressed up inside of my own son in my
station parking lot.

I slowly slid my softening cock from his hole, cum dripping onto the
ground, and as I reached to tug my briefs up and tuck it in, his hand
stopped my wrist. Looking me in the eye, he squatted down, an adoring look
on his face as he opened his mouth wide and sucked me to the root, making
me shiver and tingle all over as he cleaned every drop of my dadcum from my
cock. I reached down and stroked my thumb down the side of his handsome
young face, swiping up a slow-rolling bead of sweat, popping my thumb in my
mouth to savor it as he moaned around my dick.

"You better quit it, or you'll get me rolling again, kid," I chuckled.

"And?" he grinned when he came up off my dick, licking his sexy lips.

"Fuck, you always were a hungry little sumbitch," I laughed. "Maybe I
should send Connors out here..."

I winked at him, not really serious, but the idea of my hunky young fellow
officer tangling with my son sent a prickle through my balls.

"What if you did, Dad?" Shawn said, looking up at me with a bold
confidence.

I hitched my pants up, tucked my sticky cock back inside my briefs, and
squatted down to his level, taking his square jaw in my hand to look him
deep in the eyes.

"Tonight, son, I'm gonna fuck you in your bed," I said, deep and low and
intent. "Like old times, yeah? Like when we started. And tomorrow, when the
girls go to the sales, I'm going to fuck you in mine. Want to feel my load
still in you when I do, yeah?

"Fuck yessss," Shawn hissed, and we kissed again, hungry and hard, but
quick.

He gave me a couple napkins from the Wrangler to mop the sweat from my
forehead, then slung his sexy ass up in the driver's seat and headed off,
the picture of all-American jock perfection, with his Oakleys on and the
roof of his Jeep down. Damn, I had to be about the luckiest man alive.

"Just in time, gotta hit the head," Connors said in a rush, already heading
down the hall to the restrooms as I came inside. I plunked my ass down in
my chair, took a deep breath, and shook my head, smiling. Hard to believe
how life panned out, sometimes. If I'd known when I was Shawn's age that
I'd be doing what I'd just done, well... I probably would have set to work
on having a son sooner. Hell, maybe have gone for two boys, give him a
brother to... stop thinking like that, O'Brien, I warned myself, but smiled
too.

I was doing some paperwork when Connors came back five minutes later. He
had a certain flush to his cheeks that I remembered well from raising a
teenage boy. A little furtiveness to his eyes. The look of a healthy young
dude who'd just stroked out a load. Jesus... I thought to myself, that
prickle returning to my loins again as I tried not to stare too much at
him.

"Sorry me and Shawn took so long, bud," I said as he sat down at the desk
next to me.

"No problem at all, sir," Connors said, still not meeting my eyes. There
was a long, fidgety pause from him. Like he wanted to say something, but
was figuring out the words. I waited. I remembered that with Shawn too.

"It's good to spend time with your son, especially now he's older," Connors
eventually managed, blushing a little. "I wish I'd had that time with my
Dad, before he passed."

I looked over at him, remembering something he'd said about being raised by
his mother, alone. Things clicking into place. Our easy bond, the reverent
way he looked at me sometimes...

"Guess we might need to have the security cameras adjusted," he said,
blushing still, looking at the overnight logs like they were the most
interesting thing in the world. "All the one in the side lot shows is the
hedge and the ends of the cruisers. Not a whole lot to see
there. Generally."

He finally looked at me, the big good-looking young blond still blushing
like a schoolboy, but his eyes meeting mine levelly. Not saying anything
more, because nothing really needed to be said. I looked at him for a long
moment, and swung around in my desk chair, facing him, my big thighs spread
a little. Saw the flick of his eyes down to the fullness of my crotch.

"No good not to be with your family on Christmas, son," I said, using that
word for the first time with him, seeing the way his eyes widened ever so
slightly as I did. "You really ought to come by when we get off-shift. And
if you don't have plans tomorrow..."

"I don't, sir," he said, smiling a little now, turning in his own chair to
mirror me.

"Well, me and Shawn are going to have some guy time, kick back and relax
while the girls go shopping the sales tomorrow," I grinned. "Maybe have a
few beers with us tonight, crash in the guest room... then hang with us
guys tomorrow. How's that sound... son?"

"I'd love to... sir," he said, and I just knew that's not the word he was
looking for. But give him time. Yeah. Maybe I'd get to see that passing
idea about my boy Shawn and Connors here come to life, after all. I knew my
boy wouldn't mind one bit. I knew I sure wouldn't, and it looked like
Connors was on board with it too. Pulling Christmas duty had turned out to
have all kinds of fringe benefits.