Date: Wed, 18 Dec 2002 14:50:22 -0600 From: Kory Diaz Subject: Father Figure part 1 - Adult Youth Disclaimer: The following story is a work of fiction. If you are not over 18 years of age, or if you find this type of story offensive, or viewing this material is illegal where you live, then please don't read it! I tore out of the house in a fury, slamming the door behind me. I'd had another fight with my old man, and I knew better than to return home until he'd sobered up. Three sheets to the wind at 8 o'clock on a Saturday morning, for Christ's sake! I should've sneaked out earlier, before the belligerent stage set in, but I had missed my chance. Now, knowing the old man's habits, there was no way I could return home before sunset. I started to walk down to the bus stop when I realized that I'd left my wallet and keys at the house. Great! Here I was, flat broke with w whole day to kill. To make matters worse, I'd left wearing shorts and a tank top and there were angry, purple clouds brewing on the horizon. It wasn't going to be a great day. Fortunately, my buddy, Don, lived in the neighbouring subdivision, about two miles to the west. I could be dry there and I'd have somebody to hang out with. I knelt down, retied my shoes and started over to Don's at a slow, steady jog. "Morning, Kory," Mr. Saunders boomed, greeting me at the front door. "You're out and about bright and early." "Hi, Mr. Saunders. I just thought maybe Don and me could hang out together today. Is he upstairs?" "Don and his mother drove over to Evansville this morning to visit his grandmother. They won't be back till tomorrow morning." "Oh yeah, right. I forgot." My heart sank as the options for my day dwindled from one to zero. I shivered as a cold blast of wind whipped around the corner of the house. It looked like rain was on the way. "Come on in, Kory," Mr. Saunders offered, holding the door wide. "You don't look to be in very good spirits today, son." "I had a fight with my dad," I admitted. Hell, everyone around knew my father was a drunk, so it wasn't like I was letting out any family secrets or anything. "I was sorta hoping to hang out around here till things cool off." "You're welcome to stay as long as you want, Kory. I'm working on the plumbing in the kitchen. We've got a slow leak that's going to rot out the whole cabinet if I don't get it taken care of." "I'll help, Mr. Saunders. I'm a great one for fetching tools!" "Come on then, son. I could use all the help I can get." Mr. Saunders draped an arm over my shoulders and we walked back through the hall to the kitchen. I'd always liked Don's dad. He was about the same age as my old man, but the similarities stopped right there. Dad was fat and out of shape, his pasty skin and trembling hands betraying the fact that he was addicted to the bottle. Don's dad, on the other hand, was a big, strong guy who could still wear the same size jeans as his son. I knew that because Don had complained about it more than once. He was probably over forty, but he still had a flat gut and the kind of arms I wished for when I worked out. As we walked back to the kitchen, I glanced over at him and noticed for the first time how broad he was through the chest. Maybe I'd never seen him in a tight T-shirt before, I don't know. Anyway, he was pretty hunky. That was a little problem I'd been having lately. I was eighteen and I was still a virgin, mostly because I couldn't quite figure out whether I liked girls or not. I'd dated all through high school, but I put most of my energy into sports and my studies. I didn't exactly have the kind of home life where I wanted to invite an unsuspecting girl over to meet the folks, so I just basically avoided the issue. I hadn't even thought about it lately – until Don's hunk of a father put his arm around me, that is. I got a whiff of the manly funk wafting out of his pit and started feeling all funny inside. "This is the mess," Mr. Saunders explained, pointing to the pipes and wrenches strewn all over the kitchen floor. "I know how to fix it, but I could really use an extra pair of hands. If you help me out, I'll grill you a steak for lunch." "Thanks, Mr. Saunders. It's a deal." "Call me 'Mike,' Kory," he said, smiling warmly. "You're a grown man now and I've known you all your life. It's about time I stopped being a parental figure and started being a friend." "Thanks, Mr. ... thanks, Mike," I said. It felt good calling him by his first name, like maybe we were closer now or something. Looking at him with the light from the kitchen window flooding in behind him, I was once again struck by what a hunk this man was! His waist and hips were narrow and he filled out Don's jeans a Hell of a lot better than Don did. (Sorry, Don, but it's true.) His dad had bigger legs and a fuller ass and he also looked to have some pretty major equipment pushing against the button-fly crotch of the faded, old jeans. "Well, let's get to it," Mike said, getting down on the floor and sticking his head and shoulders into the sink cabinet. I stood beside him, handing him tools from the box on the drain board. His shirt had pulled out of his jeans, exposing a narrow band of his belly. The guy had better definition that I did and the long hairs that grew in a thin line from his navel to his waistband looked like strands of black silk. I'd always wanted a 'treasure trail' like that, but my blond body didn't seem capable of growing any hair anywhere. I also noticed that there was a rip along the inseam of his left pants' leg, running right up into his crotch. Long hairs spilled out here as well, only kinkier than the ones on his stomach. I finally had to look away and try to think about other things because I was beginning to feel really strange. "Kory, I need you to hold the flashlight," Mike said, his voice muffled. "I can't see a damn thing down here." I knelt beside him and aimed a beam to where I thought he wanted it. "More towards the center, buddy," he directed. "Nope, that isn't going to do it. I need it in closer." I tried several times, but nothing was quite working out. "Why don't you just straddle me and try shooting it straight up." "Sure," I gulped. I knelt over him, my knees on either side of his hips and leaned forward. The opening under the sink flooded with light and Mike gave me thumbs-up. I was holding the beam stead when I felt something tickling me. Looking down, I realized that my balls had slipped out of my pants' leg and the hairs on Mike's belly were touching them, sending little, shuddery sparks up and down my spine. To my horror, I then saw my prick flop out, the head of it hovering about a quarter inch above Mike's navel. If I even began to get hard, I'd quickly be plugged right into that warm, fuzzy, little depression in his ripped gut. "Hold it steady, guy," Mike snapped, when I began to reach down and stuff my dick back in my shorts. I obeyed, biting my tongue in anguish at the situation. "Bring it in a little closer now. That's it." When I leaned forward, I lost my balance and flopped down on Mike's sweaty torso like a ton of bricks. The touch of his hot skin was all my cock needed to puff it up to throbbing attention. I lay there motionless, totally mortified, but powerless to get off of him and display my ramrod shame. "You want to let me up, or is this some new wrestling hold?" Mike chuckled, tapping me on the shoulder. I pushed myself off of him and tried to hide my erection – no easy task behind a pair of skimpy, nylon shorts. Mike sat up on the floor and looked at me curiously. "Am I the cause of that?" he asked softly. "Yes... no! Hell, I mean... shit!" I blushed scarlet and began to step away, but Mike put one of his big hands on my thigh and I froze. "Make up your mind, son. It's fine by me, either way." "But... but... but you're married," I stuttered, not quite sure I was believing any of this. "Sexual attraction doesn't have all that much to do with gender, son," he said, running a finger slowly along the inside of my thigh. I groaned and my balls tumbled back out into the open. He tickled at them, gently, and it felt like my stomach was on fire all of a sudden. "You're a very handsome, young man, son. I couldn't help noticing how you've been looking at me and I also felt that hard, fat cock of yours on my belly just a moment ago. You show me yours and I'll show you mine." He grinned and winked and I was suddenly flooded with a feeling of intense relief, like a cloud was blowing away and everything got real clear for me. "Deal," I croaked, hooking my thumb into my shorts and pulling them down. My cock snapped up against my abs and Mike's thick fingers traced my juice-tube all the way up to the knob. Then he scooped up the goo trembling in my pee hole and lowered it to his lips. "Nice and sweet," he murmured, his eyes getting sort of soft and unfocused. I stood there, hands on hips, while Mike stood up and slowly popped the buttons of his fly. When he hauled his dick and nuts out, my eyes got wide. He was uncut and his meat appeared to be nearly twice the size of mine! (I later learned Mike was only a bit shy of twelve inches!) It was dusky brown, with heavy veins running along the sides, sort of like the veins that stood out on his forearms. "Can I touch it?" I gulped. "You bet you can, son," he replied, his voice hoarse and breathy. I reached out and stroked the velvety foreskin that bunched up over the end of his knob and he groaned softly, placing a strong hand on my shoulder. "That is totally cool," I said, touching his skin again. "I've never seen one before." "Play with it, son. Go ahead, enjoy it." I pinched it between my thumb and forefinger and pulled till his prick was standing straight out in front of him. While I was doing that, Mike pealed out of his shirt and I got a good look at his chest. It was matted with hair, fanning up over his collarbones and swirling around the thick, hard nubs of his muscular pecs. A thick vein snaked down across his washboard gut, branching out just before it disappeared into his dense tangle of pubic hair. I kept on tugging his foreskin till his cock began to get hard. It was a real turn-on to maul the little sleeve of skin and when Mike grabbed my dick and pressed out knobs together, I looked up at him, puzzled. He winked and the next thing I knew, my knob was covered, mashed up tight against his. I watched as he worked his cockskin up over the first couple inches of my prick, stretching it till his big nuts were riding out on his shaft. Then, he squeezed tight and started pumping the skin back and forth. "Oh, man," I moaned, reaching out to him for support. My hands made contact with his chest and he flexed his pecs, making them feel like warm rocks under my palms. I stroked them, and then trailed my hands down his muscle-slabbed sides to his waist. We rocked back and forth in the center of the kitchen, our cocks still firmly joined. This feeling started building and I was powerless to stop it, it was so intense. "Quick on the trigger, aren't we, son?" Mike chuckled. I watched as my cum began oozing out around his foreskin and drooling down onto the floor. Shit, I had blown my cookies and we were just getting started. Now, he'd think I was a complete geek! End of Part 1. More to cum soon! Feedback is always much appreciated: shadowader43072@hotmail.com. Let me know what you thought of the story. I'm not a professional writer, so forget about spelling and grammar and stick with the story. Thank you.