Subject: Naval Tradition, chapter 8 Naval Tradition Bill Drake ([email protected]) Another episode in the story of Jim McGrath. Let me know what you think, or any story suggestions at [email protected] More of my stories available at the Authors page of Nifty archive, or at the Yahoo hoo/group/drakestories/ WARNING: THE FOLLOWING IS FOR ADULTS ONLY. It is gay erotic fiction explicitly depicting sexual acts between male adults. If that offends or disturbs you, read no further. Also, I’ve had some guys complain there’s too much reference to straight sex creeping into my stories. There’s no actual hetero couplings here, but if talk about them is a turnoff, be forewarned. Sorry, just writing to my inner muse. For the rest, sit back, unzip, pull it out, and enjoy. Naval Tradition Jim’s Story 8 Spring Break 2004 Day 3 Our afternoon hike took us through lush, semi-mountainous terrain, with tropical flora and waterfalls just about everywhere you looked. It was breathtaking in its gorgeousness, but I my eye and my thoughts kept coming back to my father, who walked ahead of me. He’d put on one of my Virginia team T-shirts that morning as a joke to show that he was still as fit as his son. When he saw the lust in face, he left it on. Looking at him in my clothing, I imagined him in his college days, and I imagined myself nearly thirty years from now. We were one. Even now, the effect was electrifying. The white cotton stretched over his powerful frame, pulling tight over the massive delts and lats. My shorts, too, were tight on him, and his full, meaty butt filled them obscenely. At least I couldn’t keep my eye of that rump and the deep crevice they formed as Dad took each goddamn step on that hike. I imagined running my tongue along the valley traveling down the muscle of his backside, til I got to that tight, moist mantrench, then burrowing on… I looked at my watch. 2PM, and my late-teen horniness was flaring up again, and I suddenly felt dumb as I had to concentrate on my step, with my hardon firm in my shorts to distract me. At one point Dad looked back to check on me, saw my fuckshaft standing tall like a proud soldier and chuckled. “Think you can make it, Jimbo?” he teased in a deep grumble of a voice just low enough that the others wouldn’t hear. Shit, I didn’t know if I could make it. The day had started well enough, with a slow, lazy fuck in our hotel bed as the sun streamed in. At first I thought Dad wasn’t going to shaft me, just pin my body beneath his and rub his giant cock along the thick ridge of my own until we exploded. I almost did, til my father’s hips locked still and with a grunt, he reached underneath my thighs and hoisted them up. “Much better,” he pronounced. The firm, precum-wet hooded helmet of his oversized manmeat prodded instantly, insistently at my sphincter, and his eyes widened in carnal knowledge as he watched me gain awareness that I was gonna be screwed again by my old man and soon. To this day, I don’t know how I was able to take that ten-inch McGrath cock. Even after a couple days fucking, it still stretched and hurt a little. Especially that morning as Dad shafted me without full lubrication, just the remnants of his seed from the night before. The man’s big, and I was getting stuffed good and hard, and the friction felt rough on the inside of my now tender ring. But it sure felt great getting taken that way. My cock deflated a little, but my inside felt warm, on fire. And my thoughts reveled in the knowledge that Dad was breaking me in, owning me. Dad was turned on too, rubbing my now smooth chest and talking filth in his sexy, gutteral voice. “Yeah, my boy’s got Navy in ‘im all right. Takes a good pounding and takes it like a man. You’re all man now, aren’t ya, Slugger?” “I’m YOUR man, sir!” I replied at top-notch. I don’t know how many of his own reports my Commander of a father ever fooled around with, if any, but the idea that I was his Lieutenant Commander and right-hand man overfilled my brain with lust at that moment. My words egged him on. If I hadn’t been aware of exactly how strong Dad was, I knew it now, feeling his weight on top of me, his sheer power as he wasted no time in pounding away. His firm hairy belly bounced against my grown, up and down. His hips thrust through the tightness of my rectum, pushing through the taut chute on every thrust. It felt like I was getting violated over and over. Our fucks so far had been intense, but this was quick, hard and raw. “Don’t you know it, Jimbo. Your ass is fucking making love to my cock. ” I had to take his word for it. I was doing my best to breathe while his truncheon of a cock pistoned full and deep. My erection wouldn’t come back I was getting fucked so hard, but nonetheless my cock felt good swollen, half-hard on my belly with its manjuice being extruded out from the inner pressure on my hidden gland. Dad was intense now, with a deep, vacant look in his steely eyes. He was longdicking me and holding onto my thighs as he screwed me with abandon. That fuck was too good to last long and it didn’t. Dad’s skin turned flush red with heat and he screamed in orgasm as I knew my guts were getting filled good with his officer jizz. It’s funny… I didn’t get off, but somehow I was satisfied in our postfuck embrace, his dick still pulsing inside me as I wrapped my muscular legs around his waist. It was like I was coming down from a deep cumless orgasm. I hadn’t felt anything like it. “Morning, Slugger,” Dad croaked with a scratchy voice. Our lips met, parched dry and warm. What a way to wake up, I thought, as moved my hand to feel Dad’s hot and hard chest, heaving with each of his deep breaths. That was only five hours ago, and by now my balls were screaming in protest. At our first water break, we sat down across from each other and silently communicated through our eyes. Dad leaned back, putting his hands on his legs, and I marveled in the powerful torso that stretched my favorite shirt. I wondered if he appreciated the fact that it would be loose on me now, a reminder of how much further I had to grow up. I had done a lot of growing up in the last two years, I reflected, not only physically but emotionally. It was time to go again, and this time when Dad stood up, his own formidable shaft rested hard and heavy in his (my) jersey shorts. “My turn to take the rear,” he whispered, falling in line behind me. “You already took it,” I retorted. “This morning, remember?” He smiled and hiked up his shorts to show that giant dick. “Whaddya think?” We were both in agony by the second stop, atop a series of waterfalls. Fortunately the tour guide announced we were free to wander around the small web of trails at the top and take pictures, and to be back in a half hour. Dad and I wasted no time. We zeroed in on a trail no one else was taking and scurried away down what was probably a cove without a view. We didn’t notice, every step, every heartbeat, every thought was in unison. Finally, as we passed a nook in the rocks, Dad’s strong grip pulled me in, and I felt the heat of his body against mine. His right hand gripped my erection, his left caressed the side of my face. “Man, Jim,” he muttered as his beautiful blue eyes bored into mine. “I must be a bigger pervert than I thought, but fuck, this is hot.” Our lips pressed together. Dad hadn’t shaved that day and his stubble drove me as wild as his expert tongue. “Tell me how bad you need to get off, Slugger,” he cooed escort kocaeli as we broke apart, my hands already traveling up under his T shirt and over the furry terrain of his belly. “God, Dad, you don’t even know…” We swapped spit again. He backed away and looked down at where his hand was massaging my erect cock through my shorts. “I got a good idea, son.” His large thumb massaged the underside of my corona, causing my dickhead to pulse and swell. “You’ve soaked these shorts through. Come on, let’s let this baby out.” Effortlessly, he unzipped me and pulled my erection out til its girth rested snugly in his callused palm. “There, much better,” he growled as his stubble ran roughshod along my smoother chine. “A McGrath cock needs its freedom, eh?” He winked at me. In response, my prick gave Dad a little preview, as a copious spritz of pre-lube shot out the length of his hairy forearm. Smiling, he surveyed the precum tracks and raised his arm to my face, grabbing the nape of my neck to pull me and force me to eat my own juice off his salty skin. He didn’t have to do much forcing, though, as I eager lapped away, horny enough to burst at that moment. Finally, he pulled it away and peeled off the tight T-shirt. There it was, that magnificent chest. The one that sent me into paroxysms that first day in the hotel. The one that still silently commanded me and pushed every button deep inside me. Still gritting his teeth into a half-grin, he hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his shorts and tugged down. His own mammoth McGrath erection was bared in full view. I knew Dad was horny, too, by the pool of moisture collected in his ample hood. For a second, I worried what would happen if another person from the tour would come by. But Dad’s kiss pushed my worries away. He was stroking his cock now, slipping the juicy foreskin back and forth in quick, quiet squishy sounds. I was jacking off, too. Our breathing was getting heavier as our muscled bodies inched closer to one another as if magnetically. The second I felt the aureole of my nipples brush against his hard, hairy chest, Dad knocked my hand off my cock, and I felt a wonderful, unfamiliar sensation envelope my dickhead. It was like a cross between a warm mouth sucking my cock and a familiar hand jerking me. “How’s that, Slugger?” “Terrific. What the…” “My foreskin, Jim. I’ve seen you look at it, I thought you might…” “Jesus! You mean?” I looked down and sure enough, a good inch of his hood stretched over my very wide prick. “Bear with me, son,” he winked again, “it’s used to being wrapped around a thinner dick.” He pushed it out further. “Oh fuck!” I exclaimed, carried away by the wonderful sensations. Slow, regular, intense tightness of this new glove, it was also hot sharing such an intimate part of Dad. “What’s mine is yours, son,” he said before we collided in a kiss. Our foreheads bumped, but it didn’t stop the intensity building between us. Dad frigged away, jerking for both of us. “Go ahead,” he urged, almost unwilling to pull away from my mouth, “thrust a little. If you’re gentle it can take it.” I took him at his word and quickly we were in a little rhythm that sent me higher and higher. Too high. Orgasm overcame me suddenly, intensely. I croaked back a moan and gripped Dad’s bulky shoulder. A big salvo of my sperm filled the ballooning foreskin, which overflowed between us. Just as I was pumping out my last shots, Dad’s cum sprayed out, firing straight onto my balls and against my still thrusting shaft. Afterward, Dad got down on his knees and began lapping away at my cum-soaked crotch with his wide tongue. I returned the favor cleaning off his cock, taking my time digging under the foreskin with my tongue, stretching the flesh and kissing the glans. Dad was getting too sensitive there, so he stopped me. Besides, it was time to join the others again. ********* The strand that night was packed with the usual collegiate, getting their second (or first) wind after shaking off the remnants of the day’s hangover. Big boobed coeds, their plainer sorority sisters, the guys tailing them in packs, trying to get in their pants, or at least set the bait for later in the evening. I was starting to get the feeling that nights at Cancun. Dad and I had just finished a late dinner and were strolling along, soaking it all in. I felt content walking beside him, loved how we could shoot the shit. There was the sex between us, sure. That was weird in its own way, and intense and wonderful. But we were also father and son, able to connect almost as buddies catching up after a year apart. It was after a lull in the conversation, as I was scoping out a particularly hunky frat guy walking ahead of us, that he popped out with it. “Jimbo, I have a favor to ask of you.” “Sure. What is it, Dad?” “I want you to go out tonight. Alone. I want you to get laid.” I laughed nervously. “Wow. Never thought I’d hear my father say that.” “I’m serious, Jim. Would you do it? For me?” “Why for you?” The muscles in his shoulders knotted up and his face curled into an expression that would be adorable if it weren’t for the situation. “I can’t explain. At least not now.” I felt on the verge of tears. Instantly, despite the incredible last couple of days, I was wondering if this vacation was a mistake. We paced along silently until I got the courage to speak. “You’re acting weird, Dad. Did I do something wrong? Was it something I said earlier… back at the cliffs… or maybe this morning.” My breathing was getting a little hysterical now. “Aw, Slugger, fuck no. It’s not what you think. I… I still…” he leaned closely and whispered. “I still want to fuck my boy in the worst way.” He clapped his hand on my shoulder and gave a quick squeeze. “Yeah?” I said. “All week. Every day.” I shook my head. “I don’t get it.” “I’ll explain by end of the week. I want you to trust me.” A glimmer of connection flashed in my mind. Maybe this was Dad’s way of testing me, testing us. I thought for a moment he might be trying to trap me, getting me go out and screw around, then blame me for it. But I knew Dad too well. That wasn’t his style. He might be acting mysterious as hell, but he was too on-the-level to pull that kind of shit. I guess I did trust him. “OK.” His brow curled up. “You mean it, Slugger?” “Yah, why not. You want me to go out…” “… and fuck one of those guys,” he nodded generally to a group of young tanned studs leaning against a stucco wall. “Or a girl, it doesn’t matter. Just get laid, have fun.” “Without you.” “Yeah.” “What are you going to do tonight?” “Oh, I dunno,” he said as he gave me one of his trademark wink. “Just read my cheap paperback thriller, or whatever a semiretired father does on his beach vacation.” ************ “Man, I gotta say you have a terrific build. How often you work out, six days a week?” I turned to my side and saw an beaming, dimpled frat boy wearing only a pair of shorts, sandals and a white cap with a big Nebraska N logo. He was shorter, 5’9″ and didn’t have a bad body himself, taut torso rippling up to a smooth chest with eraser nub nips, rounded, half-sloping shoulders, big bunched bicep muscles. He was more freckled than tan, though clearly was as sunsoaked as the rest of the people at the club. “Yeah, I do. Thanks.” “Taking the week off? I bet you’re one of those guys who hits the gym on Spring Break.” “Nah,” I laughed. There was something disarmingly cute about this guy’s kocaeli anal yapan escort puppy dog demeanor. “I gave myself the week off.” “Fuck,” he said, taking a swig on his beer and conspicuously admiring my arms. “You must be pretty fucking dedicated.” I knew my build was solid, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t fun soaking up this guy’s praise. I shrugged. “Guess so, it’s what I gotta do.” “Yeah?” Frat Boy had nice green-gray eyes. “Varsity.” “Football? No, no, I don’t think you have a football player’s body. Hockey?” “No, baseball.” “Virginia?” he asked pointing to the logo on my shirt. “You got it. Guess we’re both advertising our alma maters tonight, huh?” I tipped my longneck toward his ballcap. “Us and just about every one packed into this place. Except for that guy who keeps telling the girls he’s at Harvard.” He pointed to a short, swarthy man chatting to a group of sorority girls. “And he’s not?” “Nah. He’s a brother, actually.” “What house?” “Sig Ep.” “That’s cool. The Sig Eps at UVA are all pretty cool, laid back guys.” “I would say the same thing about baseball players at Nebraska, but I don’t know any.” “Quite all right,” I said. The guy laughed, his bright white teeth and dimples flashing. “You’re a cool guy,” he said, “I know it’s weird having some guy coming up and talking to you at a bar.” I took a swallow of beer and put my hand on his bare shoulder. It felt clammy warm from the day’s sunburn. “Not weird at all, guy.” “Nah?” There were those dimples again. “Nah.” I squeezed his delt muscle. This guy took care of himself, I could tell by feel. His smile beamed. “You’re a cool guy, you know.” “You told me that already.” “With a great build.” Man, this was too easy. “You said that too.” I ran my fingers lightly along the ridge of his shoulder and up the nape of his neck. I was rewarded with the sight of Frat Boy breaking into a rash of goosebumps across his smooth chest. “Shee-ut,” he exclaimed over the dance music of the club. “What?” I teased. “You. I bet you baseball players are fucking powerhouses in the sack.” I knocked his cap into his eyes and slapped him playfully on the back. “Whenever I can find a chick who can handle me.” Tipping his hat back, he asked, “Handle you?” I held my fingers up in a wide C to indicate girth. “You’re not lying are you?” “Nope,” I said flatly. Giving me an unsure look, he stepped back against the wall. “Any prey for tonight?” Frat Boy was almost as cute with an earnest look, biting his lip, as he was smiling. “Not yet. What about you?” “Five guys to every girl. Don’t gotta chance. And I’m not sure I want the ones I do have a chance with.” “Don’t sell yourself short, man.” “Just being realistic… All right, what about that one over there? The brunette dancing next to the speaker?” “With the big juggers, the one wearing the miniskirt?” “Yeah her. Is she your type?” “Yeah man,” I played along. “She’s hot.” Fucking her wasn’t out the realm of possibility, I guess, but I was more interested in the prey standing next to me. “What would you do?” “Well, I’d introduce myself.” “I know that part! I mean after you got her back to your place. I bet you’re the type who skips with the foreplay shit, just gets down to business.” A paused for effect, and smiled. “Pretty much. Only…” “Yeah?” I leaned in to Frat Guy and put my hand back on his shoulder. “I like to do one thing. A lot.” His muscle felt smooth and hard, and I couldn’t help but rub my hand along its contours. He felt like a young man should. “What’s that?” I leaned my mouth next to his ear and spoke in a low voice. “I like eating out what I’m about to fuck.” My hand slipped down the small of his back, til it cupped his fine rump. He jumped a little, but I kept talking. “Really chew down. Get it nice and wet, long deep tongue fuck, ya know? Til neither of us can stand another minute, and…” By now, my finger was tracing deep in the crevice of Frat Boy’s butt. “…and?” The goosebumps had returned and his breathing was irregular now. “…and then I bend her over and I fuck her.” “Face down?” “Of course. Let her know it’s not making love. It’s a hard, rough fuck.” At that point I bent forward another half inch and started tongue fucking his ear. I did it only a couple of seconds, so no one would get suspicious we were doing anything but talking. “Wanna come back to my room? I’m sharing it with a brother, but he’s still out on the dance floor,” nameless Frat Boy said nodding to the pile of sweaty people grinding in the center of the club. “Lead the way, stud,” I replied, temporarily grinding my crotch into his butt as he turned toward the exit. Like I said, this was too easy. ************ Ten minutes later I was in a sterile hotel room making out with Frat Boy. He was definitely buzzed and hot for it, and quickly I pushed his shorts off and had his fine butt in my hand. We broke our kiss and he lay face down on the bed. That butt stuck up proud, high and inviting. I kicked off my shoes and stripped my shirt and shorts. I looked down at my fat cock, which throbbed in anticipation. Frat Boy was gonna get boned good tonight. “Jeez, you’re big,” he said, his gaze barely poking from beneath the rim of his ballcap, which was still on. “You’re perfect.” The hero worship would have been embarrassing had I not been turned on by his desire. It was like a feedback loop. I wondered if this is how Dad felt with me. Something to think about later, I told myself, as I got in position between his spread legs and parted those fine, round fratjock butt cheeks. “Oh, fuck, guy, that’s awesome.” Beyond his groans that was all that was said for the next fifteen minutes as I made love to his perfect rosebud of an asspucker. I kissed, I prodded, I teased that hole, til the ring opened up like a spring flower. The fucker was dilating like crazy against my fluttering tongue. It was driving me wild, and I could only imagine what he was feeling. I had a guess as he leaned up on his elbows and shuffled around a bag at the bedside. He produced a bottle of lube and tossed it back on the mattress next to me. “Here, grease up.” Frat Boy was my favorite kind of bottom. Been around the block enough to be able to take my dick without too much howling, but not so experienced that he wasn’t tight as a timpani drum. I’d barely bottomed out seven inches deep into his rectum before I drew back on the upthrust, only to come crashing down again. Frat Boy wasn’t silent, but he didn’t tell me to stop either. This week so far I’d been solely a bottom for Dad. Clearly he tapped into me, something deep inside, but humping away at this Midwestern stud’s backside, I realized I missed this. Missed those summer afternoons with Kevin, working him up with a fast facefuck in the hopes he’d lean back and lift his legs up in an invitation to be mounted. Missed those times with my brother’s partner… My thoughts pushed me into overdrive. I grabbed onto Frat Boy’s backside and fucked him and fucked him hard. The tight vicelike grasp on my prick almost stung in its friction, but I was possessed and too horny to care. This guy needed to be screwed right. He needed to remember his Spring Break for some time. I was now lying flat on his back, my arms balled in a push-up position as I pistoned the hell out of his tight quim. The mattress bounced up and down and us with it. Our bodies rubbed with beads of sweat as lubricant, izmit yabancı escort my freshly shaven chest and torso slickly colliding against his strong back. Just then, a stream of light cross the room and shone on us. Someone had opened the door. “Logan? Whoops. Sorry, guys, didn’t know anyone was back yet.” The intruder paused a second, then the door shut back. “Your roommate?” “Yah.” he huffed. “Sorry about that,” I growled, reaching up to hold the guy’s fists to the mattress. I wasn’t done with this fuck, and I wasn’t ready to slow down. “‘s OK. Fuck me!” ************ I’d barely shut the door behind me when I saw him. Drink in hand, smoking a cigarette and leaning on the hotel balcony railing. 6’2″, dark complected with a lacrosse player build and a broad, strong back bulging underneath his Sig Ep shirt. He looked over at me and tipped his drink. “Sorry about that earlier.” I probably should have been embarrassed or worried what this frat guy would think after seeing the daylights getting screwed out of his buddy. But something about being thousand miles away from home made you not worry about shit like that. “No problem. Sorry to keep you out of your room.” “Wasn’t eager to get back.” He sure was being chatty for a stranger. Casually I leaned back against the wall and tried to make out his face in the darkness. Full nose, buzzcut, round cheeks. From what I could tell, he looked like a slightly plainer Luke Owen. “Why did you?” “Three strikes you’re out. I wasn’t gonna score tonight.” He took a drag on his cigarette and blew the smoke out over the rail. It was still warm at what must have been midnight and the breeze felt great coming off the ocean. “Say, that was pretty hot. From what I saw at least.” “Yeah, it was.” I wasn’t sure what this guy was getting at. “You buddies… or more?” “Just friends. Fraternity brothers. We’ve fooled around a couple of times, but I’m not like Charlie.” “How so?” “With other guys, I can take it or leave it.” “… and Charlie…” “… he can’t leave it. He balls his girlfriend enough so the guys won’t call him a fag, but…” Tired and impatient, I interrupted. “Look bud, I’m sorry to keep you waiting out here all this time, but if you just stopped me to make sure I knew you were straight when I don’t know you from Adam. So if you’ll pardon…” “That’s not why I stopped you.” His voice was soft all of a sudden, but insistent. Urgent. The guy leaned back against the rail and shuffled his foot in the sand left on the cement floor. “I can’t believe I’m about to tell a perfect stranger this, but like I say, it was hot watching you guys earlier… and I’m drunk and I’m horny… and well, I was wondering if you might give me the same treatment.” That wasn’t what I expected from this strapping frat guy. “You want me to fuck you?” I’m sure the disbelief showed in my eyes. “Yeah, I want you to fuck me. Now I said it. Christ, I must be horny.” He paused, then said, “Oh, I guess you must pretty spent after doing Logan.” Until he said it, I thought I was sated for the evening. But the thought of fucking this dumb lug sent the blood rushing to my prick faster than anything. “Where? Back in your room.” “Oh no. I don’t want Charlie to know. Around the corner’s a broken ice machine. No one goes over there.” In the dark nook, our bodies clashed and hands gripped flesh. In a flash, I’d maneuvered his clothes off and turned him around. His ass wasn’t a perfect bubble butt like Charlie Logan’s but it sure felt good gripping my hard cock. I couldn’t believe that not even a half hour after dicking his buddy, I was gonna get the frat brother, too. Two for one package, I chuckled to myself as I hawked a good wad of spit. Then again. I needed that cock good and slick if I was gonna breach him without lube. I squatted down and gave a quick rim job. It wasn’t deep and slow like with Logan, just enough to prep. Standing up, I guided myself into the hold of his sphincter and pushed. “Christ!” he grunted, and I clapped my hand over his mouth. “Sshh,” I consoled him as my hips held superstill, letting his ring relax and get used to me. I talked sweet nothings in his ear, telling him how he was doing fine and what his stud ass really wanted my thick, hard prick. It must have worked, cause within four minutes I was balls deep and ready to rock and roll. Frat Guy Number Two was horny. I could feel it, as I held him in my arms and fucked. His muscles twitched and his balls were drawn tight. The guy melted in my hold and I watched as long white ropes of semen painted the cinderblock wall in front of us. “Good show,” I encouraged as I pumped away. I wouldn’t be long. ************ When I got back to the hotel room, Dad was sitting up in bed reading, his bare chest speckled with gray hairs glistening in the low light from the lamp. “Hi son,” he greeted, putting down his book and sitting up straight. Even under the covers, his thighs were magnificent trunks of musculature. “Have a good time?” I stripped off my shirt, then the rest of my clothes. What I craved most then was a shower. I gave a thumbs-up sign as I went into the bathroom to start the water. Dad smiled. “I hope the guy can walk tomorrow.” “You got two guys to worry about.” “Fuck me,” he chuckled. “To be nineteen.” I showered and dried off, then joined Dad in bed. He’d taken off his reading glasses already and was wiping his eyes. “How about you, Dad? How was your night?” I hoped he wasn’t mad. I mean, it’s crazy, he told me to go off and get laid, but a part of me was insecure and worried he’d be jealous. “Good, son. Sometimes it’s nice to have some time alone and just think, you know?” “Yeah, Dad, I do.” “Come ‘ere, Jimbo,” he said, pulling me into a hug. Our bare chests clashed, but it wasn’t sexual, at least not immediately. It was some other level of bonding. “Dad?” “Yes?” “You want to screw one of them?” “The guys you did tonight?” “Not them specifically, but the guys walking around this week. I don’t mind if you wanna.” “I know. That’s what you told me yesterday morning.” I paused. “Guess I did. I just want to let you know that it’s cool. Really.” “That’s not why I sent you out tonight, you know.” “Actually I don’t know why you sent me out tonight.” “You regret it?” I shook my head and realized he had a point. “You’re young and you’re horny and you’re still growing Jimbo.” I didn’t know what to say. Dad gave a knowing grimace. Slowly, he peeled back the covers and the bedsheet. His large pulsing erection plopped straight up from his groin, his massive balls drawn up to the stalk. “Too tired to give your father a good night blowjob?” “No, sir,” I replied. I kissed all along his chest and torso as I shifted around in the bed to kneel between his spread legs. I took hold of the hairy, powerful legs as I bent down and lapped at his cock. As I sucked at the head, salty sap oozed into my mouth. “Man Dad, how long you been leaking?” “Since the minute you walked out that door. Been thinking about what you might be doing to some innocent college kid.” From that vantage, I saw nothing but perfection. His handsome face imploring me silently to continue. His broad chest that made me feel so secure and so horned up at the same time. His hard gut on which I rested my chin. The giant phallus right in front of me, the scepter of power that was responsible for me and my brothers so long ago. The full, testosterone pumping nuts. I gripped his long, meaty cock in my throwing hand and pulled it to my mouth. Positioned his flared head at my lips I looked straight into his eyes. “You know, Slugger, it’s gonna take no more than two minutes before I shoot my wad in your mouth.” With that, I began to swallow my butch, ex-Navy officer father to the hilt.