Date: Tue, 5 May 2009 22:55:36 +0000
From: Christian . <xangel@hotmail.com>
Subject: Throat Pumping Phillip
Summer nights in the Southern states are hot. Where I live,
it's nothing for the inside of my apartment to be close to one hundred
degrees at night and the humidity coats everything in a thin sheen of
moisture that never seems to be able to be dried up. It's miserable. I make
the best of it by taking cool showers, sitting in the bath until it cools
me down and putting a box fan in the window. Sometimes these things help
and sometimes they don't. It was on a night that it didn't help that I was
lying in the single bed in front of the fan, staring out the open window
and thinking back to what I like to call my "family days".
I'd stripped everything off but my favorite jockstrap. It was
white with a thin waistband and side straps that were tighter than most. It
fit me snuggly and really supported everything I had to pack into it. To
tell the truth, it made me horny just to wear it. Running my hand over the
bulge really got me up and to keep at it -- well, I could cum just from the
tips of my fingers grazing my stuff. When I did just that, I thought back
to my "family days" and the reason I had the jock in the first place. It
had been a secret gift from my son, one that he gave me when we'd gone away
on a father-son weekend.
****
"It's for when you get out of the shower," He said when I
opened his plainly wrapped box and took out the then-pristine thing. "Do
you like it?" He asked, almost immediately. "Do you?"
I leaned across the short space between us and kissed my son on
the cheek. "I really do like it, son. I really do. Thank you, that was
thoughtful."
My son had meant the world to me and his gift had meant more. I
thought I was there in the house alone but he'd been asleep in his room
when I had gotten home from a long court trial. I'd stripped off my suit
and slid the thing on, turning and looking at myself in the mirror. I
looked pretty hot in it, if I do say so, myself. My son had thought so too.
"That's cool, dad." He said, coming into the bedroom. "I like
the way the straps in the back hug your butt."
"Yeah?" I asked playfully, turning my butt toward him. "Dad's
got a nice butt, huh, son?" I added, still teasing him the way guys do one
another.
"Yeah."
"Where is everyone? Is your mom home from work, yet?"
"She called," He told me. "She's working late. She said until
around 11 tonight or so. She said it was important client stuff."
"I'll bet." I said under my breath as I went into the bathroom.
I started the water for my shower. "Have you eaten yet?"
"Mom left the credit card for me to get dinner." He called
back.
"Do you want to order or go out?" I called into the other room
as I checked the water again.
"Can we go to Pizza Palace?"
He was staring at me with a sort of strange expression but I
just let it go. Hooking my fingers into the waistband of my jock, I pulled
it down and laid it on the counter. Briefly, I faced my son again and his
face turned a shade of red I hadn't seen since he was much younger. He
dropped his head and was staring at his feet for a long few minutes. He
wasn't saying anything but I knew that something wasn't right with him.
"Do you think it would be okay if we showered together?" He
quietly whispered to me, his head still on his shoes. "Am I too old for
that?"
Crossing to him, I took hold of the hem of his shirt and lifted
it above his head, pulling it off. With tender hands, I unbuckled his belt
and undid the front of his jeans. When they fell to the floor, he stepped
out of them and I noticed then that he was wearing a carbon copy of my
jockstrap. I looked at him and he looked up at me with his grandfather's
eyes, cloudy blue and seemed to hold the world in them. A single tear
streaked his face and I was stunned.
"I just wanted to be like you."
I took him in my arms and was holding him when I heard the
sound of something hitting the dresser top in the bedroom. He and I both
looked at the same time into the room to see my wife standing there,
looking daggers at me. In her hand, she held a small digital camera and the
flash was the last thing I remember seeing that night.
****
Standing and looking out at the city, I wondered about my
son. I hadn't seen him since the divorce, years ago. Thankfully, I was
able to get the camera away from the cunt and erase that idiotic
picture. Nothing had happened but she hadn't wanted to hear that. I moved
out that following week and signed the uncontested divorce papers a week
after that. I gave her the house, the car and everything else, thinking
she'd be fair about our son. She wasn't. I hadn't seen him since that day I
left.
I still had my practice in the city and I was still doing
okay. I missed my son.
Standing here, looking out at the city in this apartment I
rented for nights like this, my son and my other life seemed miles away and
they were. I thought about that and was concentrating on that when a knock
at the door broke me out of that dream. Turning from the window, I went and
opened the door, wearing only a jockstrap, sweat and old cologne. A young
guy stood in the doorway with dark hair combed out of his face and a small
bag in his left hand.
"Did you have any trouble finding the place?" I asked, letting
him inside. "I told the agency where I would be and they said they'd pass
it on to you."
"No, it was easy enough." He said, coming in and putting his
bag in the chair. "You alone? I charge extra for couples."
"It's just me. You want the lights on?" I asked, looking at him
through the dimness of the room.
"It's just as easy not to have them on."
"I can deal with that." I said, going over to the bed. "Sorry
about the heat."
"It's not a problem. So what do you get into? What are we going
to be doing here?" He asked and I heard the clatter of his belt buckle and
the rustle of clothing being discarded. "I can get as dirty as you want and
no scene is off limits but I need the money upfront, no exceptions."
"My pants are there by the couch." I said to him and settled
back on the bed. "Take an extra fifty."
"Thanks, man." He said, reaching for my wallet from the pocket.
"Dad." I corrected. "Call me dad."
"Thanks, dad." He said easily enough.
"You're welcome, son." I answered, watching him take the
appropriate amount from my wallet. At least he was honest.
Coming over, he stared down at me and in the dim light from
outside, I saw his eyes. His hands went to the fastening of his pants and
as he undid them and let them drop slowly, I noticed he'd worn the
jockstrap I'd asked him to wear. This was about fantasy, after all, and I
wanted exactly what I had asked for. Reaching for him, I let my hands
travel up over his rounded ass, feeling soft hair and firm flesh under my
fingers.
"Daddy, that's naughty." He said playfully.
"We're not playing like that. You're my son and I love
you. This is an act of love, not of something dirty."
"Sorry, dad." He adjusted believably. "Can I...just sit with
you for a while, then?"
Slowly, I sat back down and he sat beside of me. I laid back
and pulled him into the bend of my arm. Settling against me, his hand
worked itself into my shirt and began to play with my chest hair. I rubbed
his shoulder. Exceptionally good at playing the roll of "son", this younger
man seemed very much like I'd imagined my own son to be. I asked him about
his life and he spun a beautiful yarn of college and furthering his life
along a positive track. I asked about his social life and he leaned up and
met my gaze.
"I'm not sure I can tell you about that."
"Why not?" I asked, unsure as to whether or not this was game
or reality.
"You might not like what I have to say."
"Try me." I said, readjusting myself so that I faced him, leg
bent and propped on the side of the small sofa we'd found ourselves
on. "After all, I'm your father. What could you possibly tell me that would
make me dislike you?"
"I have another life that few people know about." This young
hustler said in a small voice. "I let guys pay me to do things...you
know...secret things."
"Sexual things, son? Do you like them?" I asked and he nodded
again. "Would you show me?"
"You really want me to, dad?"
I stood up and went back to the window and with a finger in the
universal gesture to do so, I told him to come to the bed. Slowly, he did
as I had instructed and after he'd sat down, I came to stand between his
legs. Removing his shirt, I eased him back onto the bed. Looking up at me
as I climbed atop him, I watched his eyes travel my body until they settled
on my cock, sheathed in white cotton.
"Show me what kind of things you let men pay you for, son."
Pulling the jock aside, I freed my thickening shaft and laid it
on his lips.
Perfect lips settled onto my tube and I leaned forward,
spreading my legs on either side of his trim body, planted my hands on the
bed and began to slide myself into his throat. To my surprise, he took me
completely and never choked. As my balls flattened on his chin, I knew he'd
swallowed my cock without any difficulty and I began sliding it out again,
eager to set up a fuck-rhythm. His hands slid up my hips to cup my ass and
pull gently, urging me to feed him. This I did with little
encouragement. Closing my eyes, I worked my hips, sliding into and out of
him, enjoying the suction of his mouth and the lapping of his tongue on my
shaft and head. His hands gripped my ass and he began to make small noises
around my rod.
My hands dug into the mattress and I earnestly began to fuck
this hustler's mouth. I didn't care if he choked or if he was
comfortable. I didn't even care about the game we'd begun to play. All I
cared for was the thick tunnel his throat provided for my dick and the deep
suction he set up for it.
"Suck harder, son." I coaxed and he did as I asked. "Good
boy..."
Under me, this kid's mouth was working me from head to trunk
and swallowing every drop of pre-cum I had to leak into him, which was a
lot. Rearing back a bit, I let him set his own pace and I'll be damned if
he didn't continued the pace I'd set for him. He certainly was eager to
please, I had to give him that. Looking down at him, I imagined this was my
son, my own Phillip whose mouth serviced me, whose dreamy eyes looked up at
me as he sucked me and my prick grew in his mouth with the thought. I
wanted to feed him the cum that boiled in my balls.
Digging my fingers deeper into the mattress, I tensed all over
as I felt my orgasm rushing up my spine and down into my cock. With a jerk
of my hips, I buried myself in this young thing's throat and a groan tore
from my own. In that moment, I flooded his prick-packed mouth with my load
-- wave after wave of cum filling him. This time, he did choke but I didn't
care -- I simply kept shoving cock to him and feeding him my seed.
Finally, when I was finished, I slid my cock out of him and
rolled over onto the bed. He attempted to follow but I put a hand to his
chest to stop him.
"No," I said softly but firmly. "We're finished here. You can
go."
"I don't think we're finished, just yet."
Looking up at him, I could see that he was serious. Leaning up
onto my elbows, I took in that face again and in the dark, I could see that
he was smiling.
"What did you have in mind?"
"What if daddy were to fuck his boy?"
His mouth went back to my flagging cock and worked it expertly
back to free-standing, throbbing hardness. When I was standing at attention
again, he straddled me and I could feel the practiced hole slide over me,
slipping down over my prick and I had to let out the moan that blossomed in
my chest. His hands found my stomach and then my pecs to support himself
until he'd taken me completely inside himself. When his ass was ground into
my pubes, he began to flex and writhe, pushing himself up and letting
himself settle down onto me. The rhythm that he set for us was exquisite
and that of someone who'd done this more than one time.
"Feel good, dad?" He asked, leaning down to rest his head on my
shoulder.
"Yes, son...it does." I answered more from habit of the game
than anything else. "You ride my cock like a pro, baby."
"I am a pro, daddy...remember?"
He rode me a bit faster, then. The urgency in his movement was
contagious. Soon, I was bucking up into him and we were both moaning in
pleased excitement. His hands tangled in my hair and his mouth worked my
throat and earlobe.
"I'm sorry about mom, dad..." He whispered and I paused a bit
in my fucking.
"Sorry?"
"The picture...I'm sorry that she took that picture."
I froze.
Taking him by the shoulders, I pulled this boy up and looked at
him. He was looking back at me, his eyes seeming to pierce the darkness and
connect with mine. When he said what he said next, I was suddenly acutely
aware that I had my cock buried up to the balls in his tight ass and that
he was clenching to keep me there.
"The picture of us in the bathroom that made you leave..." He
said in a soft voice and I could see a tear in his left eye, ready to spill
down his face. "Don't stop, dad. Please don't stop doing exactly what
you're doing. This is what I've always wanted...even then. Please don't
stop fucking me, dad..."
"Phillip?" I questioned, my hands easing a bit on his
shoulders. "Is this happening? You're really my Phillip?"
"When we're finished here, do you think it would be okay if we
showered together, dad?"
The words slammed into me like a hurricane. No one could know
those words because we'd been alone in the bathroom when he'd said them to
me. Releasing his shoulders, I let my hands trail his chest and stomach,
down to his cock where I took hold of the shaft and began working it back
and forth in one hand while tugging on his balls with the other. Watching
his face contort with pleasure, I bucked up once, driving my cock into him
again and he groaned. I knew then that even if this were some sort of trick
that I didn't care. His reactions to my fucking him and my handling him
were exactly as I'd imagined Phillip's would have been if I'd ever gotten
this opportunity.
Raising up, I carried him with me onto the pillows and reached
under him to move him up toward the headboard and the faint light of the
street signs outside. He was older than he had been the last time I had
seen him. There was no magical revelation but I thought I saw those same
eyes that had looked up at me when I opened my gift looking up at me
now. Whether it was my Phillip or not, I was going to fuck this kid and
fuck him hard enough to make me think it was. I was going to fuck him like
I'd imagined fucking my Phillip on those dark nights when I'd let myself
indulge in that particular fantasy.
Pushing his knees up to his chest, I took an ankle in each hand
and spread him open for me. Sliding into him fully, I held still for a long
few seconds as I looked him in the eye and he looked back.
"Do it, dad. Fuck me...fuck me for all the years you couldn't."
In earnest, I began to plow this young pucker, my cock beyond
caring if I was fucking a slick hustler who might have just lucked up on
the right words to say or if I was laying the wood to my honest to God
son. To my lust-hard cock, he was a hole and that hole was providing the
right amount of suction, tightness and moist heat. Faster, my hips took
hold of my brain and I slammed into him over and over until he was bucking
up to me, urging me deeper into him, his hands on my shoulder and hip.
"Deeper, dad...harder. Fuck me harder, dad..."
Grunting, I leaned down and slid my hand under his body,
bringing it up and off the bed, wedging my body in between his so that I
could really get a good angle to do just what he'd asked for. Thick and
swollen, my cock jerked as I began to plumb the depths of the boy's tight
ring. I felt my second orgasm building and I knew it would spill into him
the same way that the first one had his mouth. Between us, I felt his own
thick prick pulse and I felt the wetness of his pre-cum leaking on our
stomachs. Moaning under me, I knew he was close.
"Cum, son...cum for your dad."
As I shoved into him again, I felt his body arch madly against
me and his fingers dug into my shoulder. His face contorted and I felt the
hard jet of hot semen splash us both even as my own did the same to his
insides. As the young stud blasted his cockspit onto the two of us, I
flooded his dark hole with my daddy-juice! We both moaned like whores and I
fell onto him, still thrusting the last of my load into him. Clamping onto
me, he milked me and I was blissfully unable to stop him. When I was
completely spent, I felt him under me, his young body rising and falling
rhythmically.
"Let's get that shower, son."