Date: Sun, 31 May 2020 15:10:44 +0000 (UTC) From: Danny Smith Subject: Full Service at Dad's Motel, Part 5 Full Service At Dad's Motel By Danny Smith Part 5 I was puzzled by what Steve had said about Col. Baker wanting to talk to me. About what? Was I coming on too strong with the guys, maybe jeopardizing the security of the base or compromising him in some way? I sure as hell hoped not. Maybe it was personal. I hoped that was it; all the advice that both he and Steve had given me had been really good, and for my own benefit. And they both seemed like enthusiastic sex partners, so...what had I done wrong? Guess I'd just have to see. Unfortunately, I had to wait for a while. He didn't come by for several days, plus occupancy was down just a little, so there were very few guys to service. It actually gave me time to think and reflect a little bit on this strange and wonderful path my life had taken recently -- plus time to catch up on my studies, and get more focused on sports at school. But then, one day, with no advance notice who should show up at the front desk but Col. Baker. He was not in uniform that day, just wearing khaki shorts and a blue cotton short sleeve shirt. His hairy arms and legs made my cock start to tingle. I was working the front desk and dad was in the back. I couldn't help grinning when I saw him. He had the first two buttons of his cotton shirt unbuttoned showing his hairy chest. He asked me if I had some time. He didn't say "time to talk" so I assumed he meant "time for sex." I almost jumped over the counter and into his arms, but had to make sure the motel had coverage. I called Dad up from his office. When he came out I was actually kind of surprised at his reaction -- he greeted Col. Baker very warmly, shook his hand like they were old friends, and said "Roger how great to see you again. Glad you could come by." While that was surprising, it was also music to my ears -- I knew I wasn't in any trouble at least! Dad added, "Danny, show Col. Baker to his room." Trying not to laugh out loud with joy at knowing what was going to happen next, I grabbed a key and said, "Right this way, Sir." Here we were, three men, all of us knowing what was happening. A father was willingly turning his son over to another grown man, knowing that they were going to be having sex just a few feet away. Isn't life amazing? As it turned out, this was a wonderful session. But different from the others in a very real way. It didn't seem like we were having sex as much as we were making love. That probably sounds odd, and I'm not sure what exactly to point to, but it was different. He was more tender, more gentle. Just as passionate, and I was just as responsive, but...well, there was a lot more kissing, for example. No, that's not it exactly, but that had a lot to do with it. When we walked into the room I stripped off my clothes in a flash, while he pulled down the bed sheets. Then I helped him undress slowly. First his shirt, one button at a time. My tongue immediately sought out his nipples, to suck, and lick, and fondle as much as I could. He dropped his shorts and stepped out of them. As we did the first time, I knelt down before him, and pulled down his shorts slowly, then began sucking his massive cock, while holding on to his hairy low hangers for leverage. "That's it, son, such daddy's cock." It took me a minute for that to register. I didn't realize at first he actually meant me. But I liked it. A lot. I think he could tell. He talked a little more like that, praising my cocksucking skills, stroking my head affectionately, and all the while calling me `son.' Then he reached under my armpits and pulled me to my feet. We kissed again and he whispered, "I really want to fuck you." No need to ask me twice! I was more than happy to feel his big cock up my ass. We climbed into bed and he placed me on my back. He held my legs in the air and began to lick my ass, sticking his tongue deep into my hole. It was the best rim job ever, and I was soon squirming with eager anticipation. He placed my feet on his hairy shoulders, put just a bit of saliva on his cock and penetrated me slowly, all the while staring deep into my eyes. His was one of the biggest cocks I had ever accommodated, but for some reason I was so relaxed down there that he was able to slide it in, all the way, in one movement. Being impaled never felt so good. He seemed to sense that I was truly enjoying this fuck and he was in no hurry to make it to the finish line too quickly. With all the time we needed, and knowing Dad approved, we took a good half hour of nonstop thrusting and moaning, letting each other know in a hundred little ways, that this fuck was special. He then pulled out and flipped me over on my stomach. I lay flat on the bed while he reinserted his penis and began fucking again. He laid his body full length on mine and with one big hand reached around for my mouth, covering it with his hand. He began whispering in my ear, hotly, intently, "I'm fucking you. I'm going to cum in your ass. You're mine. You're a good boy. Take my load. Take my cum." It was hot, sexy, exciting, and a supreme moment for me; it made me feel totally submissive to this man stud. Eventually, he reached that no-turning-back point and began to thrust deeper, slower, and harder, holding his deep thrusts for longer and longer. I could not believe how intense it felt when he finally climaxed. He shoved his penis as deep inside me as anyone has ever gone, and held it for a long minute while I felt the pulsing, throbbing, contractions shooting his seeds into my bowels. All I could do -- and all I wanted to do -- was lie there and enjoy it, visualizing his sperm traveling from his testicles, out through his penis, and into my waiting body. He seemed to feel the same. He was in no hurry to pull out, and in fact stayed inside my body lying with his full weight for long minutes. I felt protected and warm. He seemed to be waiting until he was certain that there was not a drop of his man juice left to expend. Finally, his cock flaccid again, he slowly withdrew and rolled over to lie beside me. He put his arm out toward me and I turned toward him, laying my head on his biceps. We stayed like that for quite a while. I played with his chest hair like it was my teddy bear, and used his nipples like they were my toy. My pacifier. With a lot of men who fucked me, I often enjoyed the feeling of their cum leaking out of my asshole. It made a mess of the bedsheets, but I was the one cleaning up so it didn't matter. Plus I sometimes would lick up the excess. That grossed out some guys, but others were pretty turned on by it. This time was different. I was enjoying the idea of having this big load of his cum staying inside me. I continued to visualize it, all the semen protecting those tiny swimming sperms. Sperms that were now making their way up inside me, being absorbed into my body, making their way into my bloodstream. It was a safe and warm feeling He murmured with satisfaction, then asked in an offhand way, "how old are you Danny?, Sixteen, aren't you?" "Yes Sir, 16." "A good age. How old do you think I am?" "Gosh, I never even thought about it. But I guess you look about my Dad's age." "Correct. In fact, your Dad and I are exactly the same age. To the month." "Cool." Then I added, "But wait, how did you know my Dad's birthday?" "He and I have spoken many times over the weeks, about many things. Our birthdays are just a coincidence, of course, but it opens up into something I'd like to talk with you about." This was probably what Steve had been referring to. For some reason I didn't dread it at all. In fact, I was looking forward to whatever this man that I admired so much had to say. "Different people have different customs. Different traditions. Let me tell you about a tradition of my family's tribe." "Your tribe? You mean you're an Indian? A Native American, I mean?" "No Danny I'm Arabic. My name wasn't always Roger Baker. My folks Anglicized it when they immigrated to the U.S. The name I was born with was Rasheed al Bakir. Not exactly common over here, so to blend in better they changed it." "Wow, that's so cool. I've never known an Arab before." I continued to run my fingers through his chest hair. "My family's tribe comes from a very isolated part of the country. Very old and, in many ways, cut off from the rest. We have very old traditions and they are very different from almost every other group I've ever met. One of them involves fathers and sons." "Okay. How?" "In our belief system, a father's `essence' is the most important part of his manhood. It's what he passes down to his sons, and they in turn pass it down to their sons. That essence -- think of it as DNA, but it's not that exactly -- is contained in his sperm. Of course when he mixes his sperm with his wife's egg it is passed along to the offspring. But only half of the child is really the father's. To make the child fully a man, and fully able to transmit the family's essence he must be given repeated doses of the father's sperm. Either through ingestion, or through ejaculation into the son's bowels. Like we just did." "So you're telling me your dad fucked you...or you sucked his dick?" "Yes, many times. Just as he did with my grandfather. And not only that, I've done the same thing with my own son back in Detroit. Over the years he's swallowed quite a bit of my sperm, and -- I hate to be blunt but -- he's taken it up the ass often. He's now a little older than you and will soon marry. If Allah blesses him with sons, I have no doubt he will treat them the same. It's just our way." "Sir, why are you telling me this? You know that's not the way it's done here. If people found out you'd be, God I don't know what you'd be, but it wouldn't be good." "First off Danny you can call me Roger. Or even Rasheed if no one's around. After all, we've been intimate with each other's bodies, why not be more casual in our talk? And as to the reason I'm taking the risk of telling you is first, that because I trust you, just as I trust your father. Your father and I have had many conversations. And certainly not just about business. We've talked a lot about your mother...and about you. I can tell he's concerned." "Is he ashamed because I'm gay?" "Quite the contrary. He's quite proud of you and what you've accomplished. He loves your talent on the football team, your academic talent, the way you stood up to bullies at your old school, your willingness to work with him. And possibly most important, he's is completely unconcerned about your sexual orientation, at least not directly. It's not that at all." "What then?" "He feels bad...and mind you he never said this in so many words, but I'm not an unintelligent man...I could pick it up clearly from what he did not say...he feels bad to think that his family name will not be carried forward. He's afraid you won't have children. Smith is not exactly a unique name, there are millions of them here and around the world, but it's his line he's concerned with. His patrimony." I was silent for a long time. Eventually, I said "I've never really thought about it. I always thought that I'd actually like to have children someday, I think. And Rasheed, I actually do like girls. I've never had sex with any yet." And I added with a chuckle, "I'm having too much fun with all these Air Force guys. But I always thought I would eventually. Maybe this is just a phase I'm passing through." "No, Danny, don't think about it that way, and don't worry about it. You are who you are. If Allah wills it, you will have children, the regular way. If not, then...." His voice trailed off. "But here's my advice. Find a way, without telling him that we talked, to drop a hint to your father about someday having kids of your own. Ask him for fatherly advice. Advice on names for example. No need to fake anything, he's too smart for that, and don't lie. But you do date girls, I know that because he told me. Be sure and let him know how the dates went, for example." "That's true, I could do that for Dad easily. He's been so good with me. I really do understand what you're saying." "And one last thing. He and I discussed my traditions. He understands them. On a deep level he `gets it'. Again, he said nothing directly, but I truly believe he would like to instill more of his essence into you. Just for insurance, so to speak." "You mean...?" "Not exactly what you might be thinking. It's just that, you know how, when we first met after your trouble with Steve? Capt. Beiser I mean? I suggested to your Dad that he make you `available' to others, if that's what you wanted. He understood and agreed. Now I'm suggesting that you do the same with him. Don't be aggressive or overt about it. But find a way to make yourself `available' to your dad. And only if he wants to, just as he did with you. Do you think you could do that?" Again I paused for a long time. Then finally, "yes. Yes I would be honored and proud if he and I could...follow in your tradition." "Bless you. Remember, my advice is to not make any overt moves or say anything directly to him about this. Instead, try to engage him in conversations that let him know you are interested in family, in bloodlines, in family traditions and so forth. He doesn't need to be reminded of my talk with him -- he remembers it well, I know." He continued talking, almost like giving me a benediction. "For a son to take a father's seed is special, far more special than you can imagine right now. But take my word for it. To ingest the very semen that you come from, the very DNA that made you, Danny, that is a precious gift. He may not give it to you, but again he might. The choice is his, if you give him that choice. But when he does -- and I believe that he will -- it is something sacred." To be continued....