Date: Thu, 27 Feb 2014 20:51:22 +0000 (GMT)
From: Robert Furlong <robert.furlong@rocketmail.com>
Subject: Two Furlong Mouths Part 2

TWO FURLONG MOUTHS PART 2
by Robert Furlong
robert.furlong@rocketmail.com

===

I stood in front of them, my son grinning broadly at me while Marcus, still
kneeling forwards with his hands prizing his arse-cheeks apart, peered over
in wide-eyed horror.

"I just happened to see your light on and wondered what was keeping you two
guys up," I said by way of flimsy explanation.

"Of course you did," Jake chuckled, and I was unable to stop myself from
smiling back at my son in spite of his state of nudity.  I made an effort
to keep my eyes from making contact with his erection which he was
brandishing flagrantly as if showing it off in some sort of macho display.

Marcus, meanwhile, struggled upright and away from him, and ended up
crouching almost foetally against the headboard of the bed, trying to cover
his genitals with both hands.

"I... er... I'm so sorry, Mr Furlong," he stammered, his face blushing a
deep purple colour which nicely co-ordinated with that of the swollen head
of his penis.  "We were just messing around... and
I... er... slipped... and Jake's tongue must have accidentally –"

He stopped when he saw that I was amused rather than angry and I did my
best to reassure him, "It's okay, Marcus – really.  I think the point my
son was trying to make was that there are two Furlong mouths in the
household."

Marcus stared at me, wide-eyed and with face flushing so dark it looked
like he had been slapped on both cheeks, seemingly still unable to
understand the idea which Jake had been mooting.

"I hope you appreciate, dad," Jake cut in before Marcus could formulate a
reply, "how good it is of me not to hold grudges.  I could so easily have
ticked you off for spying on us and then sent you away, just like you did
when you were in my shoes."

"It is indeed very noble of you, Jake," I smiled.  "I'm proud of you."

I realised that the front of my pyjama bottoms were still being pushed
outwards by the semi-hard-on I'd developed before I'd entered the room but
I made no attempt to hide my excitement.  Marcus peered at my unconcealed
bulge with continued bafflement at first, before it finally began to click
with him what was going on.  At that point his gaze shifted from my crotch
upwards to my face and he stared at my expression as if trying to figure
out what exactly my motives were.

Jake got up off the bed and walked over to the chair in front of his desk
and sprawled himself out naked on it, adopting an especially indecorous
posture given his lack of attire.  He seemed totally unbothered by the fact
he had a very large hard-on, the shaft of which still bore some of the
remnants of where it had so recently been, nor that his large pair of
bollocks hung down gracelessly between his wide open legs.

He was far more keen to underline his self-righteous sense of magnanimity.
"I mean, when I was a kid, you always told me how important it was to
share.  And some of us are very willing to share, even though you were so
blatantly uncaring and unsharing last week!"

"I get the point, Jake," I retorted.  "It just felt wrong last week... what
you were suggesting with Bradley.  Now – I dunno – it feels somewhat
different."

I smiled at Marcus, hoping my expression didn't look too lustful or
predatory, but he continued to look wary and kept his genitals
well-protected by cupping them in both hands.

"Yeah, I wonder what could have caused your sudden change of heart," Jake
chuckled as he scratched his large, hairy scrotum, and glanced towards at
his extremely attractive young friend.

"Would you be happy for me to take up Jake's offer, Marcus?" I asked,
hoping to ease his discomfort with a more direct approach.  "And offer you
a second mouth for your... er... continued pleasures?"

"My dad is, like, the best rimmer ever," Jake bragged, apparently oblivious
to his friend's feelings of awkwardness.  "He can probably get his tongue
all the way up to your liver!"

Marcus looked over at me with even more embarrassment.  How did a person
respond to such an accolade about your friend's father when he was standing
half-aroused in front of you?

"You've really got to get rimmed by him, mate," Jake went on.  "He's so
much better at it than I am!"

Well, he was right on that point.

"How do you know that, Jake?" Marcus asked with the same obvious unease.

"I saw him rimming a bloke downstairs on the couch one night.  His tongue
was so far in there, you wouldn't believe it!  It was like –"

"Alright, Jake!  I think he gets it!"

"You actually rimmed another man in front of your son?" Marcus asked
incredulously.

Jesus Christ, he was going to be calling Social Services next.

"Jake has a tendency to interrupt my... er... soirees," I explained.  "It
wasn't like it was a performance I'd arranged especially for him to see."

I threw a pointed glance at Jake to let him know I was aware that his game
tonight had been precisely that.

"But you have sex with other guys?" Marcus attempted to clarify,
distractedly taking his hands away from his crotch.  His cock had
completely withered from its earlier glory and was looking disappointingly
shrunken as it flopped against the fair, downy fluff on his balls.  It was
still rather lovely, though.

"Would it be a problem if I did?" I asked.

"Of course not," Marcus said, with a half-hearted smile.  I sat myself down
on the bed next to him in the spot Jake had vacated.  There was a wet patch
on the duvet from where my son's stiffie must have been dribbling as he'd
made a pigs-ear of rimming his friend.

"It's just that it came as a bit of a shock when you walked in," he went
on.  "I knew you were divorced but I didn't realise you were... how would
you call it... bisexual?"

I smiled and nodded.  "It's a little hobby I discovered about a year ago
and which, it seems, Jake has picked up from me."

"So that bloke we were with tonight at the restaurant," Marcus persisted.
"The big fella, Guy... you and he are... well...?"

"Like you and Jake," I said with a nod.

Marcus nodded back and spent a moment to think the admission through.  His
penis, I noticed, was starting to betray its own particular interest in the
image that was no doubt flashing through its owner's brain.  Without Marcus
seeming to be aware of it, it slowly lengthened an inch so alongside his
thigh and thickened to regain some of its earlier stature.

"You did make a joke that it was like I was his boyfriend," I reminded him.
Once again, I felt the strange tingle at the suggestion that I might be
romantically involved with Guy.

"Yeah, it seemed as if you were more than just friends," he observed.  "A
bit like... well..."

"You and Jake," I smiled, hiding whatever it was I was feeling about Guy.

Marcus smiled back at me and I saw his cock continuing to stiffen and
starting its gradual rise upwards from where it had been flopping against
his balls.  Whatever thoughts he was having about Guy and me, however the
two of us men were coupling up together in his clearly vivid imagination,
the steady hardening of his organ suggested that he liked the idea.

"Do you actually, like, 'do it' together?" he asked, inattentive to the
effect that simply asking the question was having on the size of his
manhood.

"And some!" Jake laughed from where he was lounging in his chair.  His own
organ was still prominently aroused, undeterred by the earlier awkwardness
after I'd entered the room, as it no doubt awaited further stimulation in
whatever form that might take.  "They're at it like a couple of stags all
night, mate!  When Guy's over, I might as well forget about sleep!"

"Is that right?" Marcus asked me, his face full of surprise.

"Not quite," I chuckled.  "I think Jake's exaggerating somewhat."

"But you two guys are having sex together?" Marcus persisted.

"There's a woman called Debbie who I'm dating," I explained, "but I've
found that I also enjoy being physical with other men.  So, yes, Guy and I
have a sexual component to our friendship."

I was fascinated to watch this young man's beautiful penis steadily rising
upwards from the thoughts its owner was having about Guy and me.  Was he
imagining the two of us older men having anal intercourse – Guy on top,
or me on top – or was he thinking of us working our cocks together,
sucking each other off and shooting our semen all over each other's chests?

"That's amazing," he muttered.  "It's great you're so open-minded."

"If you'd like me to show you some of the things I enjoy," I went on, "with
Jake here, of course, I'd be more than happy to."

Marcus beamed at me and for the first time glanced down at the swelling of
his cock, now well on the way to achieving its earlier grandeur.

"I suppose my dick's kind of answering that for me, Mr Furlong."

"Well you can drop the 'Mr Furlong' for a start," I quipped.  "If we're
going to be getting... er... more friendly, Marcus, I'd prefer it if it was
just plain 'Rob'."

He chuckled and agreed to drop the formalities.

I stood up and started unbuttoning my pyjama top.  I hoped my body would be
appealing to him: in spite of me being a little chubby around the middle
and bit hairy between my pecs and on my legs, the squash I played kept my
physique reasonably attractive.  Since he obviously liked what Jake's body
had to offer, he might also enjoy the more mature and cuddlier, filled-out
version.

"This is going to be so cool," Jake extolled, clearly relieved that I'd
managed to surmount his friend's initial misgivings.  He stood up and his
erection rose upwards from between his legs as if hoping to get another
turn on the tight, blond bum it had earlier enjoyed.

The front of my pyjama bottoms had also recovered their earlier promise and
was being pushed upwards and outwards more than ever by what seemed like a
third leg inside them.  Marcus grinned over at me, apparently pleased that
the elder of the Furlong males was apparently just as well-equipped as the
younger.

"Are you sure you want to go ahead with this?" I checked before I exposed
myself to him.  I had a sudden vision of this being some sort of elaborate
misunderstanding and having his infuriated father phone me up threatening
to call the police.

"God, yeah!" Marcus laughed.  "I can't believe you guys are both up for
this together.  This is, like, totally out of the ballpark!"

I unbuttoned the waistband of my pyjama bottoms and let them fall to the
floor to expose my semi-aroused erection looming upright above my huge,
pendulous balls.  If I'd known I was going to be presented with such an
opportunity this evening, I'd have trimmed my pubic bush: apart from that,
though, I was very proud of the large set of genitals I was able to present
to the astonished gaze of my son's friend.

"You might want to stand over here, Marcus," I suggested, gesturing to the
one patch of uncluttered floor in my son's untidy room.  "That way the two
of us can... well... attend to both sides of you at the same time."

Marcus almost yelped with delight at the prospect of having the two of us,
father and son, pleasuring him simultaneously.

He leapt off the bed, calling out, "Wow!  You guys just get stuck
in... whichever way you like!"  Then he stood upright on the spot I'd
recommended, as Jake moved forwards to take him up on his invitation,
giving his own large erection a few preparatory tugs as if coaxing it back
to its full, impressive size.

I kicked my pyjama bottoms to one side and stood before the two of them as
naked as they were.  Jake grinned over at me – in all the years we'd
lived together, this was the first time we had both been completely
undressed and aroused in each other's company.  I smiled back and, just as
he had, gave my cock a few masturbatory jerks to help myself grow fully
hard.  He laughed at that – he liked to see me do it – and put his
hand back on his own to do the same.

Now it was my turn to laugh and I wanked myself a little more for him,
yanking my foreskin back and forth just as he was doing.  Why did it feel
so good to be masturbating with Jake?  This was my son standing in front of
me and yet – while I wasn't in any way attracted to him – it felt so
exciting to be facing each other while we rubbed at our erections.
Whatever was arousing me, Jake clearly felt it too because he kept leering
at me as the gentle tugging which had so amused us at the beginning was
cranked up rapidly by us both into a full-on wrist-pounding wank right
there in front of each other.

Marcus laughed over at us, amazed by the sight we were making.  Our legs
were apart and our hips thrust forwards like a couple of cowboys, pointing
our erections at each other as we beat them off as fast and as hard as we
could.

"Wow!" he chortled.  "Look at you guys go!"

Our foreskins were sliding frantically back and forth across our
near-identical cock heads, and our scrotums were bobbing around between our
legs with our similarly plump bollocks jiggling up and down inside them.

Jake laughed again as we grinned at each other, our hands trying to outdo
each other as they pumped up and down our long, thick shafts as if this was
a game.  "I'll race you, dad!" he called out to me and I was hugely tempted
to agree; the two of wanking ourselves off in some childish competition
until we climaxed one after the other, right there in front of his friend.

However, I forced myself to stop and say, "Some other time, maybe, Jake,"
and then took my hand away from my now spectacularly aroused organ.  Jake
did the same and his stood upright in front of him, almost identical in
appearance: it was like looking in the mirror we were so well-matched.

He looked at me, still grinning, and I could tell he was hoping that we
would play around again like this sometime soon: not touching each other or
getting weird at all; just masturbating together as it was, perhaps,
natural for a father and son to occasionally do.

"You guys are funny together," Marcus chuckled.  I didn't ask him which
meaning of 'funny' he meant.

Jake glanced over at him, standing waiting for our attentions with his cock
arching upwards and his arse-crack still wet from the tonguing it had
received.

"You've got a very large penis, Mr Furlong," Marcus said brightly.  And
then corrected himself: "I mean... er... Rob!"

I beamed at him with pride.  I always enjoyed it when other men
complimented my organ: Debbie seemed to find my over-sized erection at best
cumbersome and at worst repellent.

"Do you like it?" I asked, putting my hands on my hips and giving him a
little wiggle of it from side to side.

"Very much so," Marcus grinned with a sly flick of his eyebrows.  "I like
it a lot."

His look told me that he wanted to have more to do with what was between my
legs than we'd probably be able to with Jake in the room.  He wanted to
suck my organ and perhaps even have me fuck him with it, but with the
action between us being overseen by his more regular fuck-buddy, for now,
at least, he'd likely have to content himself with just looking at it.

For my part, as much as I would have liked nothing better than to have
ushered this attractive young man over to the bed and to have penetrated
him far more sensually and passionately than my son seemed capable of, I
knew that I was very much the invited guest in Jake's bedroom and that I
shouldn't to overstep the boundaries which my son imposed on me.

"You do his bum then," Jake ordered me with typical workmanlike
brusqueness, "and I'll suck his knob."

I couldn't help but grin at what he'd said.  What father hasn't dreamt of
hearing is son utter those very words?

I moved around to get behind Marcus and, perhaps seeing my erection looming
up on his friend's rounded buttocks, Jake felt it necessary to clarify:
"Just... er... rimming, mind, dad.  Nothing more."

I was only being allowed a few licks of the candy.  Anything more
worthwhile was clearly seen as being strictly my son's prerogative.

"I'll give you a few tips on how to rim a guy properly, Jake," I offered.
I thought it was quite a nice gesture, offering to share my not
inconsiderable skills with my nearest and dearest.

Jake, however, threw me an indifferent shrug, nonchalantly content that his
own technique would suffice well enough, and then knelt down in front of
Marcus, licking his lips at the erect organ that was almost crying out for
a mouth to pleasure it.

After he'd slowly and sumptuously applied his mouth to the first few inches
of his friend's organ, I had to admit that my son was indeed a very
proficient cock-sucker.  Whoever he'd learned the tricks of the trade from,
it certainly hadn't been me: I had never come anywhere close to matching
his oral artistry and most men I try to pleasure with my mouth soon get
frustrated and end up just thrusting in and out, trying to make the best of
it they can.

Jake confidently pumped the cock with his lips and tongue, developing a
slow, steady rhythm up and down the shaft and focusing on the most
sensitive parts of the head.  When he saw that I was watching him, his
mouth broke into a smile, and I could see he was enjoying showing off to
me, working his friend's organ as deftly as he could and using the whole of
his mouth to stimulate it fully.

"Oh, yeah," Marcus called out, "that's really nice, mate!"

Jake started using his head more roughly on his friend, taking longer,
faster sweeps along the length of his organ and sucking it more forcefully
with the back of his throat.  He didn't seem tempted, as I would have been
if I were in his place, to use his hands to help him service the excited
organ more fully: he used all the muscles of his mouth and cheeks to
pleasure the whole length of the cock, squeezing it with his lips while he
teased the precum from its slit with the tip of his tongue.

Marcus' manhood responded by swelling appreciatively to its full stiffened
girth.  An entanglement of veins rose up along its impressively hardened
shaft and the head of it, only occasionally visible when Jake pulled back
from an especially thorough suck, pulsated with a deep purple opulence, the
skin of it taut and shiny; slick and streaked with froth from my son's
spit.

It suddenly dawned on me why Jake was able to perform such an accomplished
blow-job: I had often suspected, from the length of his erection and the
flexibility of his back, that my son might be able to reach his own cock
with his mouth.  Now, from his polished and confident technique, I could
see that was very likely to be true: he'd probably been sucking himself off
under his duvet for a good many years, honing his skills since his early
teens and perfecting his oral mastery of the aroused male member.

Our eyes made contact again and he threw me a cheeky grin with the pounding
shaft of his friend's fully charged hard-on between his lips.  I smiled
back at him, keen to show my admiration of his abilities, as he swept his
mouth back and forth, gliding up and down the spit-soaked shaft with his
cheeks straining inwards from the pressure he was exerting.

"You little bugger!" I thought.  "All those mornings you spent lounging
around in bed, telling me you were tired and needed extra sleep – this
was what was going on in your bedroom!"

If only we'd had the open door policy back then.

With an especially elaborate flourish of his tongue and lips, Jake withdrew
his mouth from Marcus' cock out and we couldn't help but chuckle at each
other.  His eyes were full of naughtiness but there was also a flicker of
pride thrown in: he'd just demonstrated to his father how to give a guy an
exceedingly expert blow-job.

"Come on, then, dad," he said.  "Show me what you've got!"

"Watch and learn, Jake.  Watch and learn!"

He craned his head to observe me as I homed in on his friend's cute bubble
butt.

I pressed my mouth against the crack of his backside – low down where I
guessed his hole would be lurking among the wispy hair between his cheeks –
and gently extended my tongue between his two firm, muscular buttocks.  As
soon as I eased it into him, I could taste quite strongly the gustatory
version of the smell I had enjoyed out in the corridor: his butt-crack was
rich with the same seasoned, pungent flavour that the pounding of my son's
cock had managed to disperse into such an alluring vapour.

I pulled back and said to Jake with a smile: "This is an especially nice
bum for rimming.  It needs to be savoured with the whole of your tongue,
not just flicked at with its tip."

He smiled and nodded.  "Come on, then.  Show me how it's done."

I moved back in for a deeper taste and reapplied my mouth to Marcus'
magnificent cheeks.  This time, he bent forwards slightly to give me better
access, no doubt delighting in the playful competition Jake and I were
enjoying and eager to see which of us, out of the father and his son, could
pleasure him more effectively.

I pushed my tongue more fully into him, impressed by how stretched and
splayed his hole was from accommodating my son's erection, and feeling him
shudder slightly at how sensitive his inflamed anus was from the rough and
ready fucking he'd received.  I worked my tongue around his ring, gently
soothing it with its caresses and my warm saliva, and Marcus gasped with
excitement at how tender and sensual it felt.

"Oh, that's really nice, Mr Furlong," he called down to me before
correcting himself, again, to plain Rob.

I eased my tongue more fully into his arsehole, relishing the stronger
tastes inside it which were a magnitude more powerful than those around his
anus.  This was rimming at its most delectable: almost electrifying in the
intensity of its tastes and deeply satisfying in the effects my tongue was
having on its squirming recipient.

I licked deeply into this young man's bowels, feeling my cock straining
painfully at the sheer force of the arousal I was experiencing, with the
downy hairs of his arse-crack tickling my nose and chin as my face pressed
so firm against the splayed valley between his buttocks.

"I can see what you mean about your dad's tongue reaching up to my liver,"
Marcus laughed down to my son.

"Yeah, he's like the rim king," Jake laughed back.  "He's even better than
Nathan."

I kept working my tongue back and forth out of Marcus' arse, wondering who
this Nathan guy was.  It might be nice for Jake to invite him to stay over
some time so we could exchange tips and ideas about our shared hobby.  If
he was anything like as easy on the eye as Marcus, he would prove a very
welcome guest in the house.

As my mouth continued to pleasure Marcus in ways that my son had achieved
on the organ around the front, his body suddenly started shuddering
slightly and I realised that Jake had resumed giving his friend a blow-job.

The two of us worked together for a few minutes – Jake out front and me
taking up the rear – as Marcus thrust his hips back and forth, eager to
work with the two mouths that were so intimately attending to him.  I
rolled my tongue into a tube and gently fucked him with it as he bucked his
backside against my mouth, aware that this might be the only chance I would
get to work myself in and out of his arse; at least while Jake was in the
room.

"Oh, God, this is so nice, you guys!" he called down to us.

I hoped Jake was feeling as thrilled as I was to be servicing this charming
young man; the two of us working together as father and son to pleasure his
cock and his rear at the same time.

I pulled off him and called up to him, "Are you getting near, Marcus?"

As if it was part of a universal language among post-pubescent males, I
knew he would interpret my question as referring to the immanence of his
climax.  No matter where men come from or what age they happen to be, they
always recognise a question about how close they are to releasing their
semen.

"Not too far off, Mr Furlong."

I felt irritated by his reluctance to drop the formal use of my name, but
instead of correcting him, I started wanking my own painful erection as I
crouched behind him.  With my mouth clamped to such a delightful behind, I
knew my release would quickly follow.

Before returning to rim him again, I glanced around his right hip at Jake.
His blow-job had become far more assertive in its style: his mouth was
being thrust up and down his friend's organ quite roughly with his
expression almost hostile and verging on a snarl.

I wondered if this was how liked to use his mouth on himself when he knew
his climax was nearing: forceful and insistent; stubbornly masturbatory.

Imagine him giving such an uncompromising blow-job to me!

Oh God, what was I thinking?!  This was my son!

Then, to my surprise, Jake pulled away from sucking Marcus' highly
appreciative erection and hurried over to grab the tube of lube which was
on his bedside table.  He squirted a gob of it onto his middle finger and
applied it perfunctorily to his backside, and then, throwing us both a
small smirk, turned around with his back to us and bent forwards to splay
open his hairy arse crack.  His large, puckered anus was clearly visible,
extruding from the dark forest between his cheeks, looking as used and
swollen as mine often does after an especially heavy session with other
men.  His large, hairy knackers hung down between his legs, pulling his
scrotum downwards with their full, heavy load.

He turned to grin at me, clenching his well-worn ring a couple of times to
show me his dexterity, and said, "Nice, huh?"

"Very nice," I agreed, surprised by how stretched and dilated his entrance
was.

I assumed Marcus must have enjoyed his own turn on Jake before I'd started
watching the favour being returned.  Otherwise, perhaps in the restaurant,
when they'd both headed off to use the bathroom grinning and giggling,
they'd had a quick moment of togetherness in the quiet of the cubicle.

As I was about to make a quip about this making an ideal angle for a
selfie, Jake surprised me by reversing his backside onto Marcus' erection
with a couple of backward strides.  The cock glided home, as it had
presumably done many times in the past, and the two of them shuddered in
involuntary gratification as their bodies became joined once again.

And then, in an action I'd never seen performed before, Jake started
thrusting his hips rapidly backwards and forwards, wanking his friend's
shaft with the tightened ring of his arsehole.  He turned to me with a
triumphant leer and, seeing my surprise at witnessing such a novel variant
of anal penetration, cackled and called out, "Watch and learn, dad!  Watch
and learn!"

He put his hands on his knees and jerked his bum back and forth to rapidly
masturbate the foreskin of Marcus' cock.

"Jesus Christ!" I was thinking.  Where the hell had he learned such an
innovative technique?

Marcus called out in pleasure and, grabbing Jake by the waist, worked his
crotch rapidly against him, matching my son's frantic rhythm.

Although he was a guy who obviously enjoyed being fucked, he was perfectly
happy to adopt the corresponding role.

I liked the fact that such a polite and articulate youth – the very
ideal of a good and proper young husband – had such well-concealed
depths to what one might imagine to be a rather boring sexuality.  I sat
back as I watched him, marvelling at the sight of his smooth, muscular body
and his mop of fair hair, grabbing my son's hips as he so enthusiastically
fucked him up the arse.

He turned and looked down at me, and flashed me that lovely, sweet smile of
his.

Then he asked, with a delightful courtesy that I wished would rub off onto
my son, "Would you mind putting your tongue up my bum again, Mr Furlong?"

I laughed and agreed whole-heartedly that I would like nothing more.

I plunged my face back in between his round, flexing buttocks, aware that
if he wasn't able to call me Rob after making such a request, it was likely
that he never would.  I took up my own pounding rhythm on my desperate
cock, wanking myself between Marcus' shins as I inhaled the delicious scent
he'd no doubt left on the back of many a pair of discarded underpants.

As soon as my tongue lapped into his most sensitive spot, his sphincter
started clamping tightly shut around it and I knew his balls were
discharging their collected loads into my son.

His backside started munching at my tongue like we were enjoying a most
intimate kiss together as its owner gasped and panted and shot squirt after
squirt of his hot, white semen into the bowels of his friend.

Whether it was fucking Jake that had brought him to his orgasm, or the
sensation of having my tongue inside his bum again, I don't know: I'd like
to think, though, that I played some significant part in it.

When his climax had subsided, I pulled away from him, masturbating myself
as I still squatted behind him.

Jake pulled away from him too, his arse releasing one of its less
rambunctious farts as he did so, and he breathlessly announced, "Right, now
let's have my turn, mate."

He moved around to where I was crouching, his cock twitching upwards as it
demanded release, and curtly told me, "Get out of the way, dad."

In his impatience I was nudged backwards, and I fell back against his
bedroom wall, still mechanically wanking my shaft up and down as I watched
my son claim his final prize.

He pushed himself into Marcus' slick entrance with a single impetuous
thrust, muttering that he wouldn't take long as Marcus bent over to receive
him.  It seemed this was an established arrangement between the two of
them: whoever climaxed first would allow his rear to be used to bring his
companion to an equivalent state.

"You got it nice and wet dad," Jake told me, as he stood upright, roughly
buggering his friend in front of me for the second time this evening.

"I'm so pleased," I managed to say, as I sat right behind him watching him
indulge himself, his thrusting bum just inches from my bemused face.

His rhythm quickly increased to a frantic hammering action, his balls
whacking against his friend's thighs and his hips making loud slapping
sounds against his buttocks.

He kept turning to look back at me, wanking myself off so quickly as I sat
where I'd fallen behind him, smiling down at me as he butt-fucked Marcus'
bent-over body.

He kept pulling Marcus back with him and even muttered, at one point, "Move
back a bit, mate!" all the time moving in towards to where I was as if
intentionally trying to push his pummelling backside closer my face.

It was nice bum, I had to admit, and I liked the way the hair of his crack
was splayed outwards and sticking to his buttocks from the lube he'd
applied to himself.  I reminded myself, though, that was my son's arse in
front of me and, however attractive it looked, the words I'd said to
Bradley came back to me: I'd had to wipe this bum when Jake had been a
baby.

Jake, however, didn't seem to share my misgivings.

He kept working his body backwards towards me, fucking his friend faster
and faster, until his heaving backside was right in front of my face.  I
could smell the odour from it as it flexed and thrust, driving his hips
back and forth against Marcus' muscular cheeks, and I have to admit the
smell was very intriguing: undeniably attractive in spite of who was
producing it.

Jake turned to me again and, seeing his flexing backside so close to my
face, called out, "Go on, dad – do it!"

I stared at him and he grinned at me, egging me on to do the unthinkable:
"Have a lick of my arse!  Right in my crack!"

I looked back at his bum, his buttocks a rhythm of muscular movement,
finding myself inexplicably tempted by what I knew was lurking between
them.

The smell was quite fascinating: much harsher and more pungent than what
Marcus had to offer and strangely reminiscent of my own anal whiff when I
pull off an especially well-worn pair of underpants.  I sniffed at it with
mounting interest: at once appalled by the knowledge of whom this brash,
musky smell belonged to but at the same time indisputably aroused by the
sheer, unparalleled naughtiness of having such an out-of-bounds hole so
close to my face.

This was my son's bare arse and he was asking me to lick it!

I looked back up at him, my hand now a blur up and down my cock, and he
grinned at me more broadly.

"Go on, dad – shove your face in!  Rim my nice, juicy arsehole!"

I think Marcus might have said something to stop us – something to
remind Jake that this was his dad he was talking to – but I was too
overcome with excitement to take it in.

Perhaps mercifully, Jake and I started climaxing together – him with his
cock spurting deeply up into his friend's innards and me spraying my load
all over the back of his legs as he loomed over me with his odorous, hairy
crack right there in front of me.

I couldn't believe I was having an orgasm – and an extremely copious one
at that – with my son's relentlessly heaving buttocks brushing against
my face.  My nose was poised on the brink of his freshly-fucked arse crack:
another step backwards and my mouth would have been pressing between his
thrusting cheeks.

I pulled away from him as my cock was still squirting, trying to catch what
I could of my profuse outpouring with my other hand.  Not that it really
mattered, the mess Jake's bedroom floor was in.

I stood up, watching my son doubled up over Marcus' bent back, still
driving the remnants of his seed upwards into his friend's body.  Jake held
onto him tightly as the spasms of his orgasm subsided, the two of them
staring vacantly forwards as they had no doubt many times in the past.

After he'd finished, they stood up and disentangled themselves, Jake
pulling his softening organ out of Marcus' bum with a quiet, sloppy fart.

Marcus felt it necessary to immediately apologise: "I'm sorry about that,
Mr Furlong."

"For farting?" I laughed.  "All things considered, that was very
restrained."

He smiled and, as tissues were being passed around, Jake joined in with the
apologies.

"I'm really sorry, dad," he said.  "I shouldn't have said that stuff.  I
don't know where it came from."

I smiled to hide the discomfort I was feeling as I wiped the goo from my
chest and pubic bush.  Jesus, I really should have trimmed myself down
there.

"Forget it, Jake," I said, like all this was perfectly normal.  "We all say
stuff like that when we're getting carried away.  It doesn't mean either of
us would have acted on it.  Not in a million years."

Was that really true?  I, for one, had been tantalisingly close to reaching
forwards and licking my son's bum; Jake, in all probability, had been
similarly close to making that extra step backwards and pushing his hairy
arse-crack onto my nose and mouth.

"Yeah, I guess you're right," he said, smiling at me in spite the fact we
were both naked and his cock was still angled half-upwards, looking as
large as ever in spite of its softening state.  "I suppose you might say it
was just the spunk talking!"

"Of course it was," I laughed, but I knew it wasn't true.  The spunk could
say what it liked: I knew for a fact that, given just an extra couple of
seconds, my son and I would now be having a far more embarrassing
conversation.

We cleaned ourselves up – for Jake and Marcus that proved to be a rather
more involved affair – and agreed that, from first thing the next day,
we wouldn't discuss what we'd done any further.  That's not to say we were
denying that there might be a repeat – we were just keen that whatever
sex we enjoyed wouldn't impinge on the more 'conventional' activities we
did at other times.

Before I went back to bed and while Marcus was carrying out his ablutions
in the bathroom, Jake caught me outside my bedroom door and apologised
again.

"There's really no need, Jake," I assured him.  "We just got carried away.
No harm was done."

"You won't, like, dwell on it and build it up into more than it was?" he
asked.

"Of course not," I laughed.  "I've said a few inappropriate things in the
heat of the moment.  Such things are best forgotten."

"Okay," he smiled.  "Thanks."

As I turned to go to bed he had one last thing to say.

"In future, though, when you've got mates over to stay with you and I'm
left in my room feeling like a spare prick..."

I smiled and nodded.  "Of course you can come in."

"Really?" he grinned.  Clearly he'd expected more resistance from me.
"That's brilliant!"

"Just... er... be more careful what you say when you're getting a bit hot
and bothered..."

He laughed.  "'Course I will!"

"And, one more thing," I added.  "Not when I'm with Guy."

"Why?"

I could tell from his disappointed expression that Guy's evenings at our
house were probably near the top of his list of couplings he'd like to join
in with.

"Guy's... er... special," was all I could manage by way of explanation.

"Okay," Jake said with a disappointed shrug.  "Not when you're with Guy."

And with that I went to bed, wondering why it was so important for me to
keep Guy to myself while, after what had just happened with Marcus, all of
the rest of my occasional visitors would be fair game for Jake to join in
with.

What was it about Guy that made him "special", I wondered.

What was it that kept making me feel so weird when I thought about the two
of us?

Without being able to adequately formulate an answer to the question, I
went back to bed; leaving my door slightly ajar, just like Jake's.

===

robert.furlong@rocketmail.com

===