Date: Thu, 31 Mar 2011 18:52:56 -0700 From: J H Subject: Tech Support Fuck. Second time I had rebooted the machine and still, the first thing that came up was some piece of spam about finding hot women nearby. I didn't really care about the content. I had wanted to get a lot of work done while my wife and daughter were away, and I knew from experience it would take a few hours to get it fixed. Finally, I bit the bullet, and called the TechTeam. I had used them before, and although not cheap, they had usually fixed the problem. They promised to send someone out within the hour. Unable to do anything else, I had a beer, and watched some TV until the guy came over. About thirty minutes later, the doorbell rung. I went down, and let the guy in. As I opened the door, I felt like I had seen the boy somewhere before. He was young, maybe twenty or so with a thin, swimmer's build, black hair, and a handsome face. "Hi," I said. "I'm Mark." "Greg," he said, "I'm from the TechTeam. You've got computer problems, Sir?" "Yeah," I said. He had called me Sir. Was I that old now that I was a sir? I thought of my dad as a sir, not me. "Upstairs. Some sort of virus or something." He walked in, and I couldn't take my eyes off his ass. I tried to stop myself, thinking that he must have been the same age as my son. Maybe even a friend of my son's. "You look familiar," I managed to say. "You know my son?" "No, I don't think I do, sir" "You don't have to call me sir," I said. "It makes me feel like my dad. Just call me Mark. "Sorry, Mark. It's just seems like second nature to call you sir." "You play soccer?" I asked. "Maybe that's why you seem familiar." "Yeah, Mark. I played in high school. Still play in a club," he said. "Your son plays soccer, sir?" "He's in college now, but yeah, he played in high school." Greg started up the stairs. "Maybe I just saw you at a game or something," I continued. He turned and smiled. "Yeah, maybe at a game." He reached the top of the stairs. "To the left," I said. "In the office." "Got it," he said as he went into the office and sat down in front of the computer. He looked at the screen. Over his shoulder, I could see it was now covered in advertisements for everything from Viagra to retirement condos. "Yeah, I see what you mean, sir" he said. "It's going to take a bit of time to fix." "But you can do it, right?" I asked. "Of course, Mark" He emphasized the "Mark" this time. I felt a little bit less like a father and more like a peer. "You want anything to drink?" I asked him. "If you have some water, that would be awesome, Sir" he said. "I just came from a soccer game, and I'm still thirsty." "Sure thing," I said. I could tell he hadn't yet had a chance to shower. Greg smelled like sweat, teenager, and fresh-cut grass. I could feel my cock stirring, but I tried to ignore it. "That your son, sir?" he asked, pointing at a picture on my desk. "Yeah, it is. He's off at college now. And my wife is taking my daughter on a college visit." I had a sudden need to let him know that we were alone in the house. "Cool. You must be proud of them, Mark" He was staring right at me, like he knew something about me that I didn't even know. "Yeah," I said, blushing slightly. "Let me get you some water." I went downstairs. In the kitchen, I asked "Ice?" "Yes, Sir," he called down to me. Each time he said sir, my cock twitched. The way he said it suggested more than just simple politeness. There was a tinge of honor and respect in him saying it, that he would do anything I asked him to do. I tried to put that image out of my head, and poured two glasses of water for us. I brought them upstairs. He was seated at the computer, staring intently at the screen. "And?" I asked, letting him know I was back. He looked up at me, smiling. "I think I know why I look familiar, Sir," he said. "Look familiar?" he asked. I put down the water, and looked at the large screen. Covering the screen was a picture of Greg. I recognized it immediately. I had found it, and a few others of him, online. In the picture, his back was to the photographer and he was looking over his shoulder. He was wearing only a white jock strap and a pair of soccer cleats with long red socks. I couldn't count the number of times I had secretly jerked off to the pictures, imagining doing things to this perfect young man. I didn't say a word. Greg didn't say anything either. He just pressed a key, and the next image came up. Another picture, this time his hand grabbed a cheek, exposing his tight, furry hole. Another tap on the keyboard, and another picture appeared on the screen. From behind again, his legs spread, his hand holding down his cock and balls. "Uh," I stammered, not sure what else to say. "It's cool, Mark," he said. "I like knowing guys jerk off to me." He paused, and went back to the earlier picture. "How many times have you jerked off thinking about me?" he asked. "It's not like that," I manage to say. "You don't think I'm hot, Mark?" he asked. "No, not that." My heart was pounding. I tried to catch my breath. "Yeah, I've jerked off to you, Greg. Many times." "Yeah, Mark?" he asked. "What did you imagine doing?" "Kissing you. Undressing you. Rimming you. Fucking you. Hard." "And now that I'm here? What do you imagine?" Barely able to talk, I manage to whisper, "The same." "Awesome," Greg said. "That's what I'm imagining too." He smiled at me. "Now, you've seen me naked. It seems only fair that I see you naked." Almost as an afterthought to the direct order, he added, "Sir." "What?" I asked, not sure what he was wanting. "Shirt, Sir. Off," he said. It was hard to tell who was in control here. He was giving me the orders, but still calling me sir. And I was unbuttoning my shirt, exposing my chest without question. I took it off, exposing my hairy chest. Next to his perfection, I felt like a mere mortal. "Fuck, man" he whispered. "Hot fucking hairy daddy chest. And muscular as well." "Thanks, Greg," I said. He pulled me closer to him, and buried his face in my chest. "Damn, I wish I were that hairy," he said. His smooth face felt good against my chest. "Call me boy, please?" he asked, his voice muffled by my chest. Even so, I could hear the need in his request. "Of course, son," I said. Maybe because of the age difference, it felt completely natural to be calling him son. I thought of all the times I had jerked off to his picture; I had often imagined him as my boy, helping him grow into a fine young man. "Thank-you sir. But, Dad, everything," he continued, indicating my pants. I undid my belt, and let my jeans drop to the floor. Greg got out of the chair, and kneeled down in front of me. His head was right on level with my underwear. "Please Dad? Can I?" We both knew what he wanted. "Go ahead, boy," I said. He pulled down my underwear, letting my cock spring free. I wasn't yet fully erect, but still hard enough to stick out stiffly. "Damn, Dad. You've got a fat cock," he said, staring at my shaft. He wrapped his hand around it, gently stroking it. "It's fucking huge, Daddy." I grabbed the back of his head and pulled him towards me. Greg knew exactly what to do. He opened wide and took the head of my cock into his mouth. I moaned in pleasure as his warm, wet mouth engulfed my cock head. I hadn't felt like this in ages, and uncontrollably, my cock started to leak pre-cum. Greg didn't seem to mind; he licked up every drop right away, savoring it. Finally, I managed to speak. "Damn, boy, that feels good." Greg didn't respond, but continued to work his way down my cock. I was in heaven, this hot young stud giving me some of the best head of my life. I had been told my cock was big, but I don't think it had ever been this long or this hard. Even so, Greg managed to get all of it into his mouth and bury his nose into my pubes. "Fuck daddy, that's big," he said, pulling off and catching his breath. I pulled him off his knees. Standing, we were about the same height; I could look right into his eyes. We started to kiss, letting each other explore our mouths. I could taste my precum on his tongue. It gave me a strange sense of ownership to know he had sucked my cock so eagerly, so willingly. Finally, I broke off the kiss. "Your turn, son. Strip down for your Dad." "Yes, Sir," he said. He pulled off his shirt quickly, and kicked off his shoes. "All the way, Dad? Or leave the jock strap on?" "Damn, son. You're wearing a jock? Leave it on." I kicked off my own shoes and pulled off my jeans. The thought of him in a jock strap, just like in the pictures had me hard as a rock. I could hardly wait to get back inside of Greg. Greg pulled down his pants, revealing a thin white swimmer's jock. I knew from the pictures that he was at least as well endowed as me, and reality did not disappoint. His cock was straining against the confines of the fabric, and seemingly, half of it was sticking up above the jockstrap. "Fuck, boy, you're big." "I owe it all to you, Dad," he said, smiling. As tempting as his cock was, there was something else I wanted more. "Turn around, boy, and bend over." I didn't need to repeat myself; he bent over the desk, wagging his ass at me. I knelt down in front of it and spread his cheeks apart. His hole was a little hairier than in the pictures, but just as tight and sweet. I could smell the sweat and musk accumulated from his soccer practice, and it drove me crazy. My cock was dripping, and I couldn't restrain myself any longer. Greg felt the same way. "Please daddy. I need it," he moaned, the desire was barely masked in his voice. I didn't need any prompted and dove in, licking up all the sweat, pushing up against his hole. It didn't take me long to start pushing into his hole. At first he was tight, but he quickly opened up for me. My cock was throbbing, knowing it would soon be able to penetrate into this beautiful boy. "Daddy," Greg moaned. "Fuck me. Fuck your son." From the way he had been grinding his ass against my tongue, forcing it in deeper, I knew he needed this just as much as I did. I opened a drawer on the desk and pulled out a bottle of hand lotion. It wouldn't be ideal, but it was what I had. Without taking my tongue out of his sweet hole, I managed to squeeze some onto my hand and start rubbing it on my cock. Once slick, I finally, reluctantly pulled my face away from his ass. "You're sure your ready, boy?" I asked him. I poured a bit of the cold lotion onto his hole, and slipped first one, then two fingers into him. Greg was tight, but didn't resist my penetration. "Yeah, Dad, I am," he said, pushing his ass back, onto my fingers. "Just, uh, go slowly. It's been a while for me." I pulled my fingers out, and poured a bit more of the lotion on his hole. "Don't worry son. We've got all the time in the world." I slid my cock between his cheeks, rubbing against his hole. It was hard not to shove right into him, but I was patient. I put my cockhead right against his hole. With a gentle push from me, and my boy pushing back simultaneously, we were able to get my cockhead inside of Greg. Once in, he was warm and tight, but welcoming. However, I could feel him tense up, as he tried to get used to the invasion. I paused, and let him get used to my cock. But, after a few seconds, he gave up. "Wait a moment, daddy," Greg begged. I pulled out, and poured a bit more lotion on his hole, gently running my finger around it, opening him up. I knew not to rush this. By taking my time, we would both be able to enjoy a long and passionate fuck. After a few moments, he caught his breath. "Try again," he said. I pushed in again, feeling the wonderful bloom of warmth around my cockhead as I entered him. This time, there was no tensing. "Ok, boy?" I asked, as I pushed a bit deeper into him. "Oh fuck yeah, Daddy," he said. "Go slow, but don't stop." I continued to enter him slowly, guiding my cock with my hand. "Fuck, Daddy, you're big," he said, but pointedly didn't tell me to stop. He pushed against me, and I leaned into him, forcing us closer together. Bit by bit, he took the entire length of my shaft, until finally his ass was pressing against my balls. "Damn, boy, you took it all," I whispered into his ear. "My boy's ass feels so fucking good." My cock felt amazing buried in Greg's hole. Even without any movement, I felt like I was on the edge of cumming. "Feels good for your boy as well," Greg answered. "Go ahead Sir. Fuck your boy." I didn't push it too quickly, but started to slide in and out of his ass. He would clench down as I went all the way in, trying to keep me inside of him. I knew I was dripping pre-cum like crazy; each stroke of the fuck was a little more slippery than the last. I loved the feeling of marking my territory, of owning him. I bent over him, nibbling on the back of his neck. He twisted around, and just barely, our mouths met. As we tried to kiss, I could taste the sweat on his skin from the workout, salty and masculine. In between our frantic kisses, I managed to get out, "Fucking awesome ass, boy." "Daddy, make it yours. Make me your boy," Greg answered, pushing against my every stroke. He was as hungry as I was needy. My cock was turning into something we shared between us as the boundaries between our bodies blurred. Both of us needed this connection to be as deep as possible. After a few minutes of fucking him, I took one last deep stroke, and then pulled out. He turned around completely, staring at me. A single plaintive question from Greg, the need was raw and dangerous: "Daddy?" I needed to reassure him just as much. "Sofa," I said, indicating the leather sofa in the study. I went over and sat down on it, my cock sticking straight up. He had nearly a running start, jumping onto me and sliding down my pole. "Ride your dad, son, ride him hard," I said, before we started to kiss again. Greg took me at my word, starting to bounce on my cock. The new position was easier for us to kiss in, and we used it to the fullest advantage. I let his tongue into my mouth; with my cock buried deep in his hole, it seemed like the least I could do. Time seemed to slow down, with my boy on top of me, my cock deep inside of him, I didn't want this to end. Occasionally, I had to slow Greg down. I had been on the edge for a while, and I didn't want to shoot too soon. Greg only grudgingly complied, speeding up as soon as he could. "Dad's gonna cum soon if you keep that up, boy," I told him. "That's the point, Sir," he said, sliding back down on my cock, and squeezing his ass tightly. My balls were pulling in tight, and I knew I was getting close. I pushed him down and held him in place, feeling my cock deep in his hole. Although I knew it would be futile in the end, I wanted to hold off as long as possible. "Not so fast, son," I said. I pressed down on his shoulders, forcing him a little further on my cock, but also keeping him from bouncing up and down quite so arousingly. He leaned back, and stretched his arms up. I took the opportunity to bury my face in his hairy, sweaty pits, inhaling deeply. My nostrils filled with the scent of a perfect man, young, sweaty, and innocent. It over-powered my mind and all I could think about was marking Greg as mine. I wanted to shoot my load in him and make me a part of him permanently. "I'm gonna cum soon, son," I said, "You want me to cum in you?" "Don't you dare pull out, Sir. I don't want to waste a drop of your daddy sperm," he answered. In the popper-like haze of his sweaty pits, it was an electric statement. My balls pulled up tight, my cock hardened and swelled, and I could feel my body priming the pump, ready to shoot. Greg let a hand drop to his jockstrap, and began to stroke his cock. "You're gonna get every fucking drop, Greg," I said. I inhaled deeply once more from his sweaty pit, letting the scent fill my mind once again. I couldn't hold back any longer, and I didn't try. I thrusted into him one last time and let my cock explode. "Fuck yeah, boy! Take it!" I grunted, as the first spurt of cum shot through my dick, into his warm hole. "Oh fuck, Daddy. Give it to your boy," Greg moaned. He leaned into me, starting to kiss me. I could barely control myself, shoving my cock into his ass, feeling my balls drain themselves and all the while, kissing him deeply. His ass clenched tight around my penis, milking every drop it could. "Don't stop," he begged, still stroking his cock. "Your boy is about to cum as well." "Cum for your dad," I said. "Show me how much you like getting fucked, boy." Greg was riding my cock hard, bouncing up and down. I was still filling his ass with my cum, thick ropes of it shooting out of my cock with every stroke of his body. I knew I had been building up a big load, but this was an unexpectedly large one. "Damn, Daddy, I'm cumming," he shouted, as his butt grabbed my cock. He got the last drop of my load, right as he started to shoot his own load. His first jet landed right between my pecs, a warm, white rope of sperm all over my chest hair. Instinctively, I reached down, wiped it up with my fingers, and licked it off. Sweet and salty, I knew I'd never be able to get enough of his cum. "Give me all of it," I said, already hungry for more of his jizz. He obliged, first one, then two, then three more huge loads of sperm landing on my chest and stomach. I licked up each wad of cum, savoring the flavor. Just as much as I wanted to leave a part of myself in him, I wanted to have some of Greg in my own body. His body shook one last time, another jet of sperm landing on my stomach. This time, he wiped it off me, and put his fingers in my mouth. "Lick it up, Daddy," he said, as my tongue cleaned off his fingers. He leaned in and kissed me, tasting the last bit of his load. We didn't say anything for a bit, just caught our breath and made out. My cock was still hard, keeping us joined together. "Thanks, son," I said. "I needed that." "Me too, Dad," he answered, and then returned to kissing me. Finally, my cock softened enough that with a wet pop, it slid out of his hole. "Shower?" I asked him. "Please," he said.