Date: Fri, 2 Mar 2007 19:27:35 -0800 (PST) From: James Spaulding Subject: Getting Dad Drunk, part 2 Mr. Elliot liked what he saw. That first night he simply jacked me off. Fascinated by the feel of another cock in his hand. He was attentive, eagerly anticipating my orgasm. His hand continued to stroke my boner as I shot and shot and shot some more. Sure, a hand job was not the way my fantasy had ultimately ended, but Mr. Elliot's kisses were hot and his second orgasm - once again in my mouth - was tasty, thick, and filling. I didn't spend the night with him. I could tell he enjoyed himself, but I was certain that guilt of some sort would do its damage sooner or later. Our romp had sobered me up quite a bit. Mr. Elliot asked if I wanted another beer, but I turned him down. And when he asked if I was capable of driving home safely, I smiled and told him a good fuck works magic. I drove home. A boner filled my pants, My mind was racing with all sorts of erotic memories. And my smile was infectious; both my parents laughed as they commented on my good mood. I made my way to my bedroom, once more anticipating a jack off session, though this time it would be filled with my memories of Mr. Elliot and not just my fantasies. The phone rang. "I just called to make sure you got home alright." "Thanks. I did. I'm fine." I started stroking my cock. "Well...then..." "Thanks, Mr. Elliot." I kept stroking, almost immediately fighting back my second orgasm of the night. He laughed. Maybe nervously. "It's gotta be Ted, Alex." "Thanks, Ted." "I'll see you around....And...uh...Merry Christmas." I gasped my final words, holding back my orgasm as long as I could. "You too." I hung up. I blew, covering my chest with my semen. I caught my breath. Turned off the lights, and tried to sleep. I wasn't very successful, I whacked off two more times that night before I was finally able to stop fantasizing about Mr. Elliot's thick cock, hairy chest, and warm cum. There was so much more I wished to do with him. When sleep finally came, I'm sure I was still caught up in my reverie: I fell asleep mid-fantasy. ............................................ I was different man over the holiday. I was no longer a boy. Sure I was 17. Sure I was in the midst of college anxieties. But I felt strong. I had learned a lesson from Mr. Elliot. I now knew it wasn't all that difficult to get what you want -- as long as alcohol was involved. I waited until Dad has his usual three martinis before I'd ask for the car. I got the car. I waited until Mom had her two glasses of wine to ask for some extra cash. I got the money. Nothing too profound. Just a fact: alcohol made things possible. I continued to fantasize over Mr. Elliot. Memories constantly erupted. Hell, I had to leave the Christmas Eve sermon; my cock was so hard, my mind was racing so fast, I simply had to escape into the church bathroom for yet another orgasm. I took care of business. But I also realized that I had gotten what I wanted. And in my more mature moments, I could accept that I would probably get nothing more. Tyler and his family returned from Florida on New Year's Eve. Tyler called. Picked me up. And we went to a few parties. Nothing awkward. Mr. Elliot and I had our secret. I knew it would stay that way. My newfound bravado served me well late New Year's Eve. A couple of my friends and I figured that we would spend the night at Todd's house. His parents were cool with underage drinking, as long as none of us drove. So we often partied at Todd's house, and, when the party was over, we'd crash in their basement. We got to Todd's around 1:00, having brought in the New Year at Todd's girlfriend's house. The girls were gone, and now it was just the guys. There were five of us. We'd been friends since the beginning of high school. Todd's parents were having a New Year's party themselves. Once we got to Todd's house, we found ourselves surrounded by a bunch of drunk fifty-somethings. But drunk fifty-somethings can be a lot of fun. My parents were there and they were fun. New Years Eve and alcohol can do that. The fifty-somethings invited us to drink with them. We looked at each other. And figured what the hell. Mr. McCreary - Todd's dad - took our keys from us. And the party began. The drinks kept flowing. Around 2:00, I realized I was in a room filled with drunk men. Drunk older men. Everyone was caught up in the moment. People were doing silly things with the mistletoe. I saw my mom kiss Todd's dad. And as soon as they finished, my Dad reached for Todd's mom. I never knew grownups could be so crazy. But my friend alcohol was doing what it did best. Everyone was drunk. Everyone was loose. And I was horny. A few of the men in the room were hot. A few were full on boner material. Just looking at them was enough to spark a movement in my pants. Another sip of the McCreary's punch, and I figured it was time to work the room. It didn't take long, and I had the guys in the room figured out. Who was hot. Who was drunk. And who was drunk enough to fuck around with a seventeen year old boy. I had to choose my prey carefully. But choose I did. Mr. Jacobs worked with Mr. McCreary. He also went to our church. I had known him for years. When the sermon bored me, and he was around, I found myself imagining what he looked liked without his suit and tie. He had five kids and a mousy wife who usually never left the house - except for church. New Year's Eve was no exception. Mr. Jacobs was here alone. As drunk as everyone else. And looser than most. I watched as he told jokes. Kissed the women. And put his arm around the guys. He left the room. I followed. He got to the bathroom. The door was closed and two other people stood outside the door. He turned around. Saw me. "Hey, Alex. Happy New Years!" "You too, Mr. Jacobs." "Looks like there's a line." "Yeah." "I gotta piss pretty bad." "Me, too." "Well, then follow me. We'll go upstairs." He put his hand on my shoulder, turned me around, and I followed as he climbed the stairs. I'd always admired his ass. Following him up the stairs gave me ample opportunity to admire even more. "Here, we'll use the master bathroom. There's room enough for both of us." He laughed. "Even if there is only one toilet." We entered the bathroom. I closed the door. Neither of us turned on the light. There was a fool moon outside, and the moonlight filled the room nicely. Mr. Jacobs moved to the toilet, unzipped, and pulled out his cock. Nice. He shook it. And I watched as he pissed. He looked at me. Smiled. Tuned away, once again focusing on the toilet and the stream of his urine. He finished. Started shaking, almost stroking his cock, releasing the last few drops of piss. He looked at me, his cock still in his hand. "Looks like it's your turn, Alex." He put his cock back in his pants. Zipped up. And flushed the toilet. I took his place, unzipped, and released my cock from my pants. Of course, my cock was hard. Rock hard. I looked at Mr. Jacobs as I tried to piss. He looked at me. Looked at my boner. He smiled. "It's hard to piss when you're hard like that." "Yeah, I know." He moved towards me. Put his hand on my shoulder. Looked down at my cock. "What got you so hard, Alex?" "I don't know Mr. Jacobs. Must be teenage hormones. It gets like this all the time." He squeezed my shoulder. Laughed some more. "It's not just teenage hormones, Alex. Mine gets like that all the time, too...Here, why don't I leave you alone. Then you can do what you have to." He walked toward the door. "You can stay...if you want." He stopped. Turned around. Looked at me. Looked at my cock. "You want me to stay?" I turned to him, facing him, my hand beginning to stroke my cock. No lines had been crossed yet. But now was the moment. Would he or wouldn't he? "Sure. You know. I can do what I have to with you in the room." He walked toward me. Put his hand on my chin, raised it, and looked me in the eye. "Of course you can. But ...are you sure you want to, Alex?" I looked at him. Smiled. "I sure as fuck do, Mr. Jacobs." He walked to the door. Locked it. And turned around. Words seemed to fail him. Words had failed me. Sure, I had got myself in another compromising situation. But what the fuck was I supposed to do? The house was full of people. My parents were downstairs. Mr. Jacobs went to my church. I stood there. Clueless. Mr. Jacobs moved. He walked toward me. His hand moved to my cock, he began to stroke it. His mouth moved to my ear. His voice was husky, his words a little slurred. "You sure you want this, Alex?" I cleared my throat. "Yes, Sir." No more words were spoken. Mr. Jacobs lips moved to mine, and his tongue entered my mouth. As we kissed, my hands moved to his belt. I undid it. Unzipped his pants, and my hand immediately found its way to his erection. He was hard, oozing precum. I broke from his embrace and moved to my knees. My mouth found his cock. He leaned back, and received my blow job with great pleasure. His pants fell to the floor. I kept sucking, savoring the taste of his precum. His cock was nowhere near as big as Mr. Elliot's cock. But it sure filled my mouth nicely. His hands moved to my head. He grabbed hold, and began to fuck my face. I was certain he was going to cum any minute. His thrusts increased, and breath quickened, and his cock was leaking precum juices in significant quantities. But then he stopped. Raised me to my feet and fell to his knees. He swallowed my cock like a man who had swallowed his share of cocks in the past. I watched as my father's friend swallowed my cock. It's a nice cock - even Mr. Elliot had been impressed. I watched as all of it filled Mr. Jacob's mouth. He took it all. His mouth worked its way from the base of my cock to the head of my cock. His hands moved to my balls. He fondled. Then he licked. Then he fondled some more. After a few moments he stopped sucking. He looked me in the eye. "Fuck, kid, you got a nice cock." His attentions returned to my cock, slick with his spit. The intensity of his sucking increased. I found myself close to orgasm, holding back so I could continue to watch Mr. Jacobs bearded mouth swallow me. His pants had fallen to the floor. His right hand massaged by balls. His left hand stroked his boner - still leaking precum. His mouth left my cock, but his hand stroked my spit slick boner. "You gonna cum for me, Alex?" His stroking continued. The intensity of his gaze repeated the answer. You gonna cum for me, Alex? I came for him. My orgasm began as he stroked me. I shot semen. And more semen. My first spurt flew past his shoulder. But the rest of my ejaculate found its way to his mouth. He ate my cum. He swallowed. He savored. He finally stopped milking me when I had to pull my cock from his mouth, too sensitive to take any more of his ministrations. He stood up. Wiped his mouth. "Finish me, Alex." I got on my knees, eager to bring him to climax. His cock was slick; his precum worked as the perfect lube. His precum was also the perfect appetizer. My hands moved. My head moved. And he soon shot his load, filling me with his daddy cum. I swallowed his warm seed, and as I did I reveled in the reality of our tryst. Mr. Jacobs. Sunday School teacher. My father's friend. Mr. Jacobs had just fed from my cock. And I was now feeding from his. His sperm filled me. We finished. We kissed. We tasted each other. And Mr. Jacobs spoke. "Fuck, Alex. What is it with you and your dad? Fucking hot. Fucking hot!" "My dad?" "Genetics, kid. You got great genetics." His hand moved to my cock, he squeezed. I was still hard. And I was confused. Clueless. I was certain that Mr. Jacobs could not be familiar with my father's cock. I was certain that his words meant nothing. We put ourselves together. Zipped up our pants. He kissed me one last time. "Happy New Year, Alex. Our little secret, right?" I nodded and closed the door after he left. And then my phone rang. I answered. "Alex?" I didn't recognize the number, but I recognized the voice. Mr. Elliot. 'Hey...Happy New Year Mr. Elliot!" "You, too...Can you talk? Is Tyler there?" I could hear his nervousness. But I was also certain there was a purpose to his phone call. He wasn't just calling to wish me a happy new year. "No. I'm in the bathroom. What's up?" "Honestly? My cock is up, Alex. It's been in my hands for the past couple minutes, and all I can think of is your pretty boy lips around it...I...I want to fuck you, Alex. I want to fuck you now. Can you get away?" "Sure, but what about you? Where's Mrs. Elliot?" "She's out cold. You at the McCreary's?" "Yep. The party is still going strong" "I'll pick you up in five minutes. Make sure no one sees you leave. Meet me at the corner." He hung up. I could only revel in my new year's happiness. First a blow job from Mr. Jacobs. And now Mr. Elliot is setting up a late night tryst. Happy Fucking New Year. I got my coat. Snuck out the back door. And made my way to the corner. I didn't have to wait long. Mr. Elliot's Trailblazer pulled up, I got in, and we drove off. "Hey." "Hey." "Are you OK with this, Alex?" I looked at him. Amused by his nervousness. I reached over, grabbed his crotch, squeezed his rock hard cock, and smiled. 'I am absolutely OK with this, Mr. Elliot." "Ted." "Ted." In no time at all, we made our way to his house. I had no idea what he had in mind, but I was more than willing to let Mr. Elliot take control. He parked on the street. And we walked to his garage, entering his home through the maintenance door. I knew to remain quiet. He listened. Convinced that Mrs. Elliot was still out, he ushered me downstairs. He led me to his workshop, a room at the back of the basement, a room I had only seen once before. He shut the door behind us and turned on a kerosene lantern for light. "This isn't very romantic, Alex. But I had to fucking see you...I just had to." He reached for me, and we began to kiss. His tongue filled my mouth while his hands worked their way to my shirt. Once he had it unbuttoned, his mouth moved to my nipples, he licked, bit, tugged, and his hands worked their way to my pants. He undid my belt. Undid the button. And then I was unzipped. His mouth continued to kiss my nipples, while his hands tugged my jeans and boxers down. "Do you know how often I though about you these past two weeks? Do you have any fucking idea?" There was an intensity to his words I had not heard before. This was not a man who was drunk. This was not a man who needed to be persuaded. This was a man who knew what he wanted. He wanted me. And I gave myself to him. Mr. Elliot looked at me. He looked at my cock. He spoke. "I didn't go down on you last time. I just didn't think I could. But...but, I've been thinking about it. I've been thinking about it all the time. And..." And he got on his knees, grabbed my cock, and licked. His tongued moved down my shaft. He smelled my crotch. He licked my balls. His tongue made its way to my piss slit. He tasted me. He paused for a moment to look in my eyes, and then his lips surrounded my cock head. It was slow going. Mr. Elliot didn't have to tell me he had never sucked a cock before; he was tentative, careful, and very inexperienced. But he had a will. And in time he found a way to swallow most of my cock. I watched as my best friend's father gave me a blow job. I watched as his head moved up and down, my cock slick with his spit, disappearing in his mouth only to reappear with the next movement of his head. Though I had an orgasm an hour before, I was soon close to blowing. Mr. Elliot deserved a warning. "I'm gonna cum...I'm...you better stop sucking..." But he didn't stop. And I couldn't hold back. I shot my load, filling Mr. Elliot's mouth. He gagged. Some of my cum dripped from his mouth. But he didn't stop. He swallowed all of my sperm. His right hand went to his mouth. He wiped. Stopped sucking to look at me. And as I watched, he licked his right hand, swallowing the last of my cum. He wanted me to see him do that. He wanted me to know that he savored my seed. He stood up. No words were spoken. He simply turned me around, bent me over, and spat. His spit covered fingers made their way to my hole. I felt him probe, stretch, prepare me for his cock. I bent lower, arching my back, showing him how much I wanted him inside me. He spat again. And I felt his erection work its way into my hole. It hurt. It burned. It was still too big. But I took it. And Mr. Elliot gave it. It was a fast fuck. Furious. He thrust and thrust some more. His inches pierced me. It always hurt. But it felt so good. My best friend's father was fucking me. His perfect cock filled me. And in a few seconds I was filled with his cum. I could feel the warm spurts. I could feel his orgasm. His body shook with pleasure, and that shaking - just like his sperm -- filled my guts. He held me tight, my back pulled to his chest. He kissed my neck. He bit my ear. I turned my head. I found his mouth. We kissed. "Alex...I don't know what I am going to do. But...I know that I am going to do that again." "Any time, Ted." Mr. Elliot smiled. Winked. "Next time I'll try to see if I can't get us a bed." We dressed. Quietly escaped the house. And I returned to the party. Happy Fucking New Year.