Subject: 51 and One – Part 2 My stories are fiction and intended for readers 18 and up. All characters are assumed to be legal, consenting adults. This story deals with relationships among male family members. If that fantasy bothers you, stop reading. If you like this story, check out my Patreon! Lots more content there: eon/jayspearstories The Nifty Archive has been a fantastic resource to all of us! Please consider supporting them with a donation: fty/. 51 and One – Part 2 By Jay Spear The next morning I was up early for my golf date with a friend, and I found Dan already at breakfast when I got downstairs. “Hey, buddy. Going for a run?” “Yeah, I figured I’d get in a couple miles while you are out golfing.” “Sorry about the noise last night. I was really worked up.” “It’s OK, Dad. I was too.” He held up a crusty corner of his sleep shirt as evidence. “Haha, that’s why you left in such a hurry.” “Well yeah, I wanted to go jack off and take care of it. But if we’re being totally honest, I waited for you to come upstairs. Wanted to hear you through the wall. Like the old days.” He stared at me and I stared back at him for a long minute before each of us broke into a silly grin. “Happy to help then, sport. I guess I was a little more vocal than normal, given…well, everything.” “Fuck yeah. I appreciated the performance. I came like a fire hose.” “Well done then, son.” “Well done both of us, Dad,” he winked. * * * That night after dinner I told Sandra that I was going down to the basement for some cigar time. It was a partially finished basement, not used for much other than my weights and workout equipment in one corner and a small cigar lounge in the other: a couple of leather chairs, a few bottles of scotch, my humidor. I liked to indulge in a good stogie and a drink once or twice a week, and Sandra–and, frankly, all my exes before her–didn’t like me smoking them in the house. So down in the basement was a good compromise. “I’ll go too,” Dan announced, and he followed me downstairs. “I thought you weren’t interested in cigars.” “I’m not, really. But I’m interested in spending time with you. I enjoyed our chat last night. Let’s talk more. If you want that to be over stogies, I’m up for that.” “OK then.” I set out two glasses and poured myself a few fingers of bourbon. “Want some?” “A little. Coach doesn’t want us drinking much, but I get that it pairs well.” “It does.” I opened up my humidor and pulled out two Montecristos. I took my cutter and clipped the ends of both and then handed one to him. “Thanks,” he said. “Show me how? I’ve seen you do it before, but I wasn’t paying enough attention to really learn it.” “Sure.” I struck a wooden match and showed him how to rotate the cigar against the flame to toast the foot before lighting it. I brought it to my mouth and held it between my teeth, bringing the flame to the foot while I took steady, even draws that made the flame blaze up with each puff. I took care to rotate the cigar as I lit it, explaining the importance of a good even burn. After a few good billows of smoke, I took the cigar from my mouth to check my work. Yes, I had a nice glowing red cherry at the lit end and the burn was even all around. “There. Just like that, son.” Dan repeated my motions and I gave him gentle pointers along the way–don’t draw so fast, take nice even puffs–and pretty soon his was lit too. We sat there a few minutes, silently puffing and enjoying each other’s company. He was the one to speak first. “That was pretty hot last night.” “What was?” “Hearing you through the wall as you fucked Sandra.” “I thought you might like that.” “Dad, that’s what I’ve always liked. You know that now. But last night it was even hotter, because I could hear how worked up you were. And it was our conversation that did it, wasn’t it?” “Yeah, sport. I guess it was. I don’t know why exactly. Guess I’m highly attuned to sex talk or something. And while I was surprised to learn that you’ve got such an active sex life–and with so many! Jesus, 50 of them this year–I’m glad you’re getting what you want. Makes me proud.” “You taught me that, Dad. To go after what I want. And I almost always do.” “Almost always?” “Yeah, well…” he had turned sheepish again somehow. Fumbling for words, he stopped speaking altogether, took the stogie in his mouth, and drew in deeply, and then exhaled a cloud of smoke. “Anyway, I’m glad you’re not freaked out by my thing with Mr. Jenkins. Or the other guys.” “Nah. I mean, I was at first. Yeah. It was not what I had pictured. But I get it. I’ve been dating younger women, you’re messing around with older guys. Vive la difference, right?” “Exactly. Thanks, Dad.” “In truth, I guess the conversation made me feel proud of you. It was surprising to learn that you’ve got 50 guys going–” “Over the course of a year, Dad.” “But still, 50 is a lot. Anyway, I’m not criticizing, I’m recognizing it as a healthy sex drive, which I get, `cause I’ve got one too. So I’m glad you’re doing something about it. A good sex life is important. And I’m proud that you know what you want, and you’ve gone after it.” “Yeah, in most cases.” “Most cases?” “Yeah, I…” he paused as if he were struggling for the right word then he stopped. Instead he brought his cigar up to his lips, took a draw from it, and then let out a billowy cloud of smoke, watching it curl up into the air. He spoke again. “I’m just glad you’re not mad about Doug. I do *not* want to stop seeing that guy.” “I wouldn’t ask you to. You’re both adults, it’s up to you.” “I know, but it feels better if I know you don’t disapprove. Like if you thought I should be trying to find someone my own age.” “No. I don’t disapprove. Although some day you’ll want to settle down and maybe that guy will be someone closer to your own age. I mean, have you been with guys your age too? “Oh yeah. Of course. Especially at first. I mean my first experiences were with guys my age because I was young and older guys wouldn’t respond to me at all.” “They shouldn’t.” “So I’m not with young guys very much now, but I was at the beginning. Tim was the first.” “Tim Johnson? From the baseball team?” “Yeah, Tim. We were never that friendly, never that close, but last year I started to feel him looking at me sometimes. I looked back. Always. It was like a year of that kind of silent communication before we got it on. I had to make the first move.” “Yeah, I remember him from games. But nothing else. I mean you guys didn’t hang out together.” “No. But there was a week when you were away on business and Mom was working late every night and I couldn’t let the opportunity go to waste. Your house was empty and I wouldn’t have to be back home with Mom until 10:00. So I asked if he wanted to come over and watch a movie. We had never hung out before or anything, but he said yes. şişli travesti I knew he would, from those looks at practice.” “Sometimes there’s chemistry and you don’t need much more.” “Right. And that was the week, and he was the one, when I lost my virginity.” “Good choice, I imagine. He was a good-looking kid. Tall, some good muscle on him for a baseball player.” “Yeah. We’d never be friends, but we had a good time together in bed. Dad, can I confess something to you? This is where we did it. Not just in this house. But in your bed, actually.” “In my bed? Why not yours?” “After hearing you through the wall with Linda or Jane or Kelli…it’s just always the place I’ve associated with with sex. So when I thought Tim and I might get it on, that I might lose my virginity, that’s where I brought him to.” “I hope it was a good experience. Not everyone’s first time is.” “It was pretty good, Dad. Not the best sex of my life, but I was so thrilled to finally connect with a guy in the way I wanted.” “He fuck you?” “Not that first time, but he did later on. The first time was new for both of us. First time with a guy. We wrestled around, we kissed, we jacked each other, I sucked him. We didn’t get much past that, because he got very worked up by my blow job. He climbed on top of me and sat on my chest while he fed me his cock. Pumped it in and out of me. He quickly got worked up. I think it scared him.” “An orgasm scared him?” “Not that, but the fact that it was with a guy. That a guy was making him cum. And so before he did, he stood up, towering over me, and he called me a faggot and let it fly with streams of cum across my face, my chest. He shot and grunted and shot some more, working out probably every demon he had.” “Shit, Dan. That doesn’t sound too great. Calling you a name and coming on your face?” “Are you kidding, Dad? It may sound bad to you, but he called me faggot and my dick stood straight up. And when I felt that warm, salty cum hit my face, felt his load splash on my chest, watched him paint me with his cum, saw his disgust at letting himself get off with a guy–well, I exploded right there. Sprayed my own load over the bed and the sheets and me.” Dan stopped to take a puff from the cigar. “And then we both laughed and he collapsed onto me and we kissed and cuddled for an hour, lying in that sticky cum.” “So that’s were the cum stuff comes from.” “Maybe. I don’t know. I just know it felt great then and always. I want to see the cum when I have sex–feel it, taste it.” “So Tim was OK after all that?” “Yeah, at least that night he was. Then the next day at school he was cold and distant. But then he came over again in the evening. He was like that–on again, off again. Very conflicted.” “But willing to fuck you.” “Oh yeah. We did everything that week. Everything. It was like years of pent up interest for both of us, and we had this rare opportunity with a private place for basically a whole week. So we did it all.” “Did you end up dating?” “No, it was just sex. We never dated, never even became friends, really. Tim told some others about it. Word spread. It was kind of a mixed bag. It got me some harassment at school–shoving, name calling, etc. I was now known as the class fag. But that also identified me to those who were looking.” “Looking for what?” “For a friend. Or for more. I mean, the rumors led to Steven coming out to me also, and we’ve been best friends ever since. It’s good to have another gay guy to relate too. But the rumors also brought round guys who were looking to get off. They guys who just wanted to `grab the fag and dump a load.’ One of them actually said that to me.” “I’m so sorry. I had no idea.” “Don’t be! It was a great outlet. I was too young for the neighborhood dads–the men I was really interested in–so having the student body understand I was the class fag was helpful.” He took a sip of his bourbon. “And anyway, I kinda loved those guys best. Very straightforward. No messing around. One would grab me in the hall, pull me into an unlocked closet and wait for me to drop to my knees and suck him off. It became known that I would do that.” Dan paused and brought his cigar to his lips, his cheeks hollowing out as he drew heavily for a few seconds before exhaling a stream of white smoke. The view in front of me, Dan with the cigar in his mouth, was juxtaposed with the image of him on his knees while his classmates–so many of them!–filled his mouth with cock. Feeding my boy their cocks. Dan sucking cock. Jesus. I went upstairs last night with a case of blue balls from the slow burn discovery of Dan’s sex life, but tonight…tonight there was nothing slow about the burn. I was already primed for the conversation, swinging around a half-chub all day, thinking we might talk more tonight. And now…now the vividness of Dan’s healthy sex life had my cock roaring to life right from the start. It jumped and throbbed at each new revelation. “Jesus, Dan….” I started to respond but words failed me. “It’s OK if it gets you hot, Dad. Talking about it. It gets me hot too.” I gulped. “See?” He grabbed his crotch and gave it a squeeze, getting a visible, pulsating throb in response. It was an involuntary reaction when this keyed up. A horny reflex, like your leg jumping when the doc hits your knee with the rubber mallet. “Yeah, Dan. It does. I gotta adjust.” I pushed my hand down my pants and shifted my cock into a more comfortable position. “Just let it out, Dad. I’m sure you’d rather breathe, right?” “Fuck, that would feel much better, but come on. How proper is that?” “Fuck proper. Is it proper for me to discussing this much about my sex life? Probably not. But I love it. I love not hiding it from you. I love feeling that we’re close enough to share this information. I love it. I fucking love it.” “I do too, son.” “So take it out, Dad. Let me see it. I’ll pull mine out too. It wants to be free too.” “OK. Yeah. That’s better. You too.” “Aw fuck yeah, Dad. That’s a respectable woody you got there–just from words, huh? I’ll bet when Sandra touches it, it shoots up even further, probably doubles in size.” “Haha, Dan. No it doesn’t double, but does grow bigger, yeah.” “Well I haven’t seen it in years, apart from a quick glance at the gym when you drop your towel and before you put on underwear. But it’s nice to see it, Dad. I think it looks fucking great. Looks a lot like mine, see?” “Same shape.” “Yeah, same overall shape but I think you’re thicker. Maybe I’m a bit longer. But a quick glance and it’s like we’re twins.” “Twins 25 years apart.” “And your balls are different, I think. Flop `em out for me. Yeah, different. Bigger. Fucking big baggy nutsacks. Bet they carry gallons of cum, Dad. Bet you’re like a fucking geyser.” “Haha, I dunno. That’s the most poetic anyone has gotten about my nuts.” beylikdüzü travesti “Well I’m like a connoisseur, so maybe I get a little carried away. But I would love to see it. The geyser.” “You want to see me cum?” “Yeah, Dad. I want to see you shoot. I’ve heard it through the wall but I want a visual to go with it. Want to see you spill that load.” “I dunno.” “You’re hard, Dad. Worked up yesterday and again today. Sandra got your load last time…maybe this one for me? Just sit there and stroke it. Let me watch. Let me see.” “Like this?” “Yeah, Dad. Just like that. Looks so fucking good. Come on, I’ll stroke one out too. Sitting across from you like a mirror image.” “Dan, it was your stories that got me so worked up. Both times.” “Yeah?” “So tell me more.” “Yeah, Dad. Sure. What do you want me to talk about?” “Talk about the guys that started to find you at school. How you’d suck them. How they’d…what else did they do?” “Keep stroking, Dad. Yeah, I love to see that. Looks like you’re a couple inches bigger in just the last few minutes. I wanna see how much further it’s gonna grow.” I stretched out my cock to full length to show him and grinned back. “Damn that’s good! Anyway, sure. I can tell you about some of the guys I sucked off at school. But I wanna see a real geyser from you, so maybe I should tell you about the football team.” “The football team? Like not a football player, but the whole team?” Dan laughed. “Well, not the whole team, but a handful of them. Maybe like 10. It was the only time I’ve done a group thing, but it was pretty hot.” “Tell me.” He smirked. “Thought that would get your attention. You’re fully hard now, huh?” “Just fucking tell me,” I growled. “Sure, Dad.” He paused to take a puff on his cigar, mentally taking himself back in time. “It was maybe a month after my last hookup with Tim. He was conflicted enough that he had started to spread the rumors–I guess to protect himself. Tim’s buddy Steve Tevere is on the football team and Tim must have told him that I was available for a BJ, because Steve’s the one the one who asked me to meet him in the locker room after practice.” “Steve Tevere? He’s that big linebacker right?” “Yeah, right. Big gorilla of a guy. Tall, hairy, 17 going on 27. With the way he looks he regularly buys beer for the team because he never gets carded. I must have told Tim I was hot for older guys, because Steve was like the oldest looking guy you could find at the school. He was the perfect bait.” “And you took it.” “Hell yeah, and I’d do it again. Steve is fucking hot.” “So you met him after practice…” “Yeah, he said I should meet him in the training room after practice. He had a key and said it would be locked and private and no one would disturb us. I got there and Steve locked the door behind us. He drew down the shade. And I got my knees to suck him when I heard the other voices. `Here he is fellas! Time to get a piece of the fag.’ Steve hadn’t even taken his cock out yet.” “Oh shit.” “Then I realize it was a set up. I’ve now got eight, maybe ten of the guys circled around me. I knew some of them, but not all. Maybe a few weren’t on the team, I dunno.” “Did they hurt you?” “Hurt me? No. Not really. One slapped me. Called me a faggot when he slapped my face.” “Shit, what did you do? “Nothing, Dad. I took it. I…I liked it. I mean, it brought a certain energy, you know? And it gave the other guys the idea. `Over here, faggot,’ another one said. And when I turned, he spit on me. `You want my cock, princess?’ one called. I nodded, I just nodded. I was was outnumbered and besides, it was true. I wanted all of those cocks. `He’s hard!’ Steve laughed. `Faggot loves this shit.’ And then he unbuckled.” “And you sucked him.” “I did. He had a beautiful cock, Dad. Not long, but real thick. Tightly coiled black pubes framing it. I opened wide and took him in. I wished we had been alone, that he had been fully naked. I would have loved to run my hands through his chest hair while I sucked him.” “But he kept his clothes on.” “Yeah, they all did. They got their cocks out, but kept everything on: shirts, pants. But not me. Two held me in place while another guy stripped off my clothes. I was the odd man out: naked and on my knees, so fucking hard, fully erect, ringed by a crowd of guys catcalling me, `Over here, faggot.’ `Give me some of that sugar mouth, honey.’ `Suck my fat one, you dirty queer.'” “Just you and that whole crowd.” “I tried to keep up,” Dan said. “I’d suck back and forth between the two closest to me, and use my hand to stroke the one I’d just left.” “And the other guys? What were they doing?” “Somehow I made it to all of them. Eventually. But yeah, with that many guys, there was dead time while they were waiting for my mouth. They were all watching and stroking. Not stroking because they’re gay, they’re not. It’s wasn’t gay sex that was turning them on. But they were amped up from that group energy. The energy of a bunch of guys getting off, exerting their will over me, knowing their turn to use my mouth is coming soon…yeah, it kept them watching, hard, and stroking. Calling out stuff to tease me or to encourage their friend to grab my head and face-fuck me harder. “How long did this go on?” “I dunno. Probably about half an hour. It’s hard to know the time when you have a mouth full of cock, haha. Franck Psazcki was the first to come. Jizzed down my throat. `He fucking swallows it!’ Ethan Weiss calls out. `Slurps it down like it’s his favorite meal.’ Then I’m sucking Steve again and when he’s about to come he pulls out and says `Uh huh, faggot. I’m not going to feed you any fucking dessert. I want you to wear it. And then he blasted my face. “Shit, Dan.” “Looks like you’re about to blow, Dad.” “Getting there! Keep going.” “OK, yeah. I will but it’s getting hot down here. Take off our shirts?” “OK.” I stripped mine off. “What next?” “So the other guys loved when Steve blew his load in my face. `Paint the fag!’ one yells, and then the others take up the chant, `Paint the fag! Paint the fag!’ And then they’re all jacking themselves as fast as they can and unloading on me, spooj hitting me from every angle. Some hitting my eyes, so I can barely see. And I’m just fucking covered in all that hot sperm.” “Must have been great for a cum fan.” “Oh yeah, Dad. I had liked it before: the smell, the taste–used to eat my own when I’d jack off at night–but that time, being hosed down with cum, really cemented it for me. I was a cum freak. Needed to feel it. A lot of it.” “It’s sounds pretty fucking hot, Dan. All those guys using you to get off, unloading all over you like that. Shit. Shit, shit, shit.” “Don’t come yet, Dad. I want us to do it together.” “OK, son. I’ll hold off. But I’m close. And you?” “Pretty close, I love watching you work that dick.” istanbul travesti “And I love seeing you all flushed like this. So let’s get you over the top. But first, I gotta know. How did this even happen? Where was the coach while they took over the training room? How could all of this be going on without him knowing and intervening?” “Oh yeah, that’s just it, Dad. I saved the best for last.” Dan stopped speaking to close his eyes, remembering, and gave his shaft some long, hard strokes. “The coach was there. And soon as the guys left–they just left me there, on the floor, covered in cum–he came out of the office with a towel. He asked if I was all right, explaining that his players like to blow off steam every once in a while. They told him this would be OK. Since I was gay, this whole thing would be welcome for me. But things looked like they got a little rough.” “What did you say?” “I told him, `Hell yeah, I’m more than OK. It was a little rough, but to be with all of those jock together? Fucking awesome.’ So Coach B is there trying to play the concerned Dad who knows he let his boys get out of hand. And I’m trying to reassure him that things are OK–you can’t rape the willing. And all the while I’m wondering why the coach would do this, enable this. And then I see it. The bulge in his sweatpants. He’s half hard. Trying to hide it, but half hard. I realize that his office is next to the training room and he must have been in there watching us the whole time. He didn’t allow it to happen; he *wanted* it to happen. “Kind of a perv, then?” “Uh huh. At least not to me, Dad. I would have been into him, anyway. He’s mid-40s, Daddy type. Thick former ball player build, black hair graying at the temples, curly chest hair poking up through his Under Armour shirt. My type to a T. I mean, I had fun with the boys, but now here was a *man*. So seeing both his concern and his hardon, I felt that something could really happen here, something *should* happen here.” “Fuck, Dan. The coach too?” “So I tell him I’m all right, but it was a little rough and I just need a moment of calm to recover. And he picks me up off the floor, towels the cum from my body and embraces me. Dad, it was like the best hug ever. A giant bear hug, so tender and comforting. My smaller body tucked into his big one. It was sweet, actually. And sweet was a nice change from the scene that just played out.” “Sounds kind of paternal.” “I know, Dad. That’s why I liked it. Really liked it. Coach could feel it. I mean, we were pressed together in this tight hug and I could feel his semi. He felt my cock grow and swell more and more the tighter and tighter he held me. Then he pulled back his head to look at me. Softly, gently, Lovingly. We both looked at each other that way. And then he leaned down and kissed me. The softest, longest, deepest kiss. When we finally stopped for some air, coach says, `I’m glad you’re all right, son.’ And then–I don’t know why I did this, it was just instinct–but I said “I’m all right now, Daddy.” “You called him `Daddy.'” “Yep. Just came out. And he fucking loved it! Pulled my crotch right into his and growled back, Yes you are, baby.'” Jesus. My cock was throbbing, a swollen red monster throbbing at each word. Dan continued, “Dad, it was so fucking hot. Being used by the team was cool, but making out with this Dad-type coach, just talking to each other this way…really got me going. Fuck, looks like it’s getting you going.” “Dan, this whole evening has got me going. I’m about to blow but I’m trying to hold it back because I gotta know what happened with you and the coach.” “Yeah, I’m about to pop too. OK then. So the coach and I made out like that for what seemed like forever. Just kissing and holding each other, hands exploring each other’s bodies. I called him Dad and he showered me with sweet talk: so glad you’re OK, baby; don’t worry about the team, Daddy’s here now; Daddy will take care of you. We were slow, relaxed, we took our time with each other. And somewhere along the way, his clothes came off. One piece at a time while hardly breaking the kiss.” “Fucking hot. Did you suck him, Danny?” “Yeah, Dad. He had a beautiful, thick cock. And though my throat had been abused by the team I did’t hesitate a bit to take coach in my mouth. I wanted to taste him so bad. We lay down on the gym mats together, intertwined while I sucked him. Coach talked me to the whole time, encouraging me: good boy; that’s my beautiful boy; right there, baby. It just made me want to do more for him, you know? Make him feel so good.” Dan’s eyes were locked tight on mine as he said this. He pushed his chair forward, bringing himself within inches of me. “As much as I hated to do it, I stopped sucking. Let him out of my mouth. It was good and slick now, and I climbed up on coach, straddled him, and pressed his spit-slicked dick up against my crack. `You sure about this, baby?’ he asked. `Please, Daddy, I need you inside of me.’ He grinned and growled back, “Fuck, son, I need it too.’ “Holy hell, Danny, you’re gonna make me cum!” “And then he pushed it in, Dad. Got it right up inside me like it was nothing. Like it belonged there.” “Fuck fuck fuck…” “And I felt like it did. It was my first Daddy dick, something I had wanted for so long…” “Cum with me, fucker! I’m gonnna shoot!” “Yeah, Dad. I wanna see that. I wanna see how your boy made you cum.” “Here it comes, Danny, I–” “On my chest, Dad! Stand up and shoot it on my chest. Please. Don’t waste it.” I stood up and towered over him. “You got it, Danny. Gonna shoot now…here it’s comes! Come with me, baby.” “Fuck, I’m coming too, Dad! So hot to see you explode like that. Love feeling you dump a load like that onto my chest. Awwwww, damn…” It took what felt like half an hour for my breathing to calm down, to leave that excited, explosive state and replace it with the perfection of post-cum relaxation. But that moment arrived for us both. We just looked at each other and smiled. “Look at that, Dad.” Dan rubbed his hand across his chest. “My cum mixing with yours. Father and son. So hot.” “Come here, Danny.” I pulled him to me in an embrace. “That was–” “Amazing,” he finished. “Fucking amazing.” *** It was impossible to sleep after all that. We had only touched for a moment, in that post-blow embrace. But I felt like I had been inside my boy–like he had been inside me. He was clearly inside my mind, at least. I tossed and turned, with Sandra next to me, oblivious to it all. I attempted to curl up around her, but her body felt foreign to me. My mind was still imprinted with the feeling of my cum-slicked son as we we hugged each other, flushed and out of breath, heat radiating from our skin. How much had that heat faded now, post-orgasm? If I went into his room and pressed up against him in his bed, held him, would we warm each other through the night? Or would the heat be too much, and we’d have to pull away, retreat to opposite sides of the bed in the name of a reasonable temperature, and of sleep? These thoughts kept me awake until, eventually, the sun came up. End Part 2

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