Date: Fri, 19 Jan 2018 14:29:51 +0000
From: Bill Drake <billdrake@hotmail.com>
Subject: Naval Tradition 25

Naval Tradition
Bill Drake (billdrake@hotmail.com)


NOTICE: THE FOLLOWING IS FOR ADULTS ONLY. It is gay erotic fiction
explicitly depicting sexual acts between male relatives. If that offends or
disturbs you, read no further. If not, sit back, unzip, pull it out, and
enjoy.


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For more of my stories, see the Prolific Authors page here at Nifty
archive.


25
Charlottesville
Spring semester, junior year


I came home one day from my workout, made a protein shake, and showered up.

Baseball season was starting up, a couple days of premature warm up in
Charlottesville hinted at the spring to come, and all was right in the
world. I was even getting over the breakup with Greg and my anxiety of ever
finding a boyfriend, much less a partner. But something had been weighing
on my mind the last few months. My evening with Bill Henson had awakened my
lust and my desire for older men. I thought about older guys constantly,
and in my fantasies half the time I was trying out the submissive side I'd
explored with Henson. I'd relived those fantasies, and those with my Dad,
over and over, but lately I was getting tired of relying on masturbation.

I knew what I was considering was inappropriate but damnit I was horny as
fuck. I reached into my wallet and pulled out the business card with Andy
Pressman's number on it. I flipped from front to back to front again,
trying to decide whether I should call him and which number I should call.

"Grow a pair of balls, McGrath," I said to myself and punched in his
personal number. I considered hanging up before he answered but stuck with
it.

"Hello?" Pressman's voice was so sexy, affable and masculine yet
well-spoken.

"Mr. Pressman," my voice stumbled. "It's Jim McGrath. We met at the student
athlete banquet last semester."

His voice noticeably cheered up. "Jim, good to hear from you. What's up?"

"Well, I know you're busy and I didn't know if I should call but you said
you'd be up for meeting some time."

"Well, if it's official business, you can call my secretary and set up a
time to come by my office..." Shit, I felt like I'd fucked up.

"OK," I said, an unsure tone creeping into my voice.

Pressman picked up on it, because he added, "... but I have a little free
time after 5 today if you're by chance free."

It was 4:00 then. "That'd be great. Just name the time." My heart pounded.

"Let's say quarter after 5. Where do you want to meet?"

"I could meet anywhere, sir," I started. Then decided to take another
chance. "My apartment's off campus, on Robertson St. I could meet
anywhere."

I don't know if it's possible to hear a smile, but Pressman was definitely
smiling. "Well, I can swing by your place, pick you up."

I gave him my address and after we hung up I tidied up the place and got
dressed.

Andy was punctual, and at 5:15 I showed him inside. It was really warm for
February, and he was wearing just a polo shirt and slacks, with
loafers. The clothes showed off his fit form, both muscular and trim. I
noticed the gold band on his left ring finger, which made me wonder about
his marriage. Still, his smile was so disarming to keep me from doing much
other than stare at him.

"Nice place. You have roommates?"

"Just one. Charlie Holt, on the football team. He's at work now, though."

"For a while?" Pressman definitely liked the idea of our privacy.

"Till 9," I said, happy to share in the sense of doing something naughty.

The athletic director stepped toward me and put his arms on my waist. "In
that case," he said, and met me in a kiss.

It was perfect, or perfectly timed at least, and I was dizzy in lust and
excitement. His body was firm, and he seemed equally into mine. We made
out, not rushing.

"I had a feeling when we met," Andy smirked as his fingers slipped beneath
my T-shirt.

"Yeah?" I said, thrilled this guy was into me. "I was very attracted to
you, kept telling myself I was misreading the signals."

"Not misreading," he replied, kissing along my neck and exploring my torso
with his deft fingers. I dared to lower my hand to brush against his
crotch, where a hardon poked a nice perfectly shaped ridge in his
trousers. He backed up and looked at me seriously. "We gotta be careful,
though. I sure as hell shouldn't be here. I just couldn't help it." His
grimace turned to a smile. "But FUCK you're hot. Here..." he said as he
tugged my shirt up and I took the hint to pull the rest of the way
off. "Yeah, hot fucking baseball body."

My fingers massaged his crotch and reached up to unbuckle his
belt. Pressman gave me a look that told me he just realized something.

"You've done this before haven't you?"

I crouched down and unzipped him, fishing out his cock. "Yes, sir," I
answered. "A lot."

"Hell," he hissed as I took his dick inside my mouth and started blowing
him. "Yeah, you know your way around a dick, all right. Yeah, suck me,
Jim."

I did. I gave it my all, not so much in speed but in depth of my downward
descent and in intensity. This was taboo in a new way, fucking around with
this man who had control over my life. It gave me a new thrill, which fed
my cocksucking.

Finally, Pressman withdrew, his seven-incher slick with saliva and rock
hard. "Got a bedroom? Why don't we 69?"

His desire for reciprocity took me by surprise but made him that much
hotter.

He stripped off his shirt as we entered my room and I was treated to the
sight of his half-bared body. Other than my dad or Jack Grant, Pressman had
hands-down the hottest body of any man I'd slept with. Maybe an even better
body if I wasn't biased. Pure DILF, the man kept in tip-top shape, you
could tell did weights after work hours and got in bucketloads of
cardio. He still had his six-pack and a trim torso dusted with brown downy
fur.

"Wow," I said admiringly. I had to ask, "You fuck around with students
often?"

He cocked an eyebrow, not sure if I was going to lord this over him, but he
answered anyway. "Not often. I try to be a good boy."

"Glad you decided not to today," I replied stripping down my jeans.

Andy gasped as he saw my erection. "Damn! That cock's huge."

I loved the reaction but was also concerned. "Not backing out are you?"

He shook his head as he removed his trousers and draped them over a
chair. "Nah. But I'm taking top."

I lay back and excitedly watched as the athletic director's built body
crawled over me, offering me his cock. I accepted and at the same time felt
his warm wet mouth descend on my prick.

He gently fucked my face, all the while sucking me. I did my best to take
his dick, which seemed bigger in that position. We got a nice, mutual
rhythm, and it just felt right between us. I was turned on, Pressman was
turned on. Each of us giving the other satisfaction but feeling our own
pleasure mount. Andy fired first, his bittersweet seed discharging into my
mouth as he moaned loudly around my fat cock. I was close behind, coming a
massive load, which he greedily slurped up.

He had a giddy, proud look on his face as we uncoupled and he scooted to
face me. "Definitely worth taking a chance for," he said.

"If you ever want to take a chance again..." I started suggestively.

"Yeah?" His fingers playfully mussed my hair. "I gotta be super careful."

"I'm pretty good at keeping secrets," I said. "There are only a couple of
guys in town who know I'm gay."

His hands explored my nude body, not lustfully but more in a slow, lazy
appreciation. "I wouldn't have guessed, other than the way you kept looking
at me during that banquet."

"I try not to be obvious," I said, "but you push all my buttons."

He smirked, happy for the compliment. "Listen, I gotta get going."

"Yeah, sure," I said. "Bathroom's down the hall if you wanna wash up."

I wouldn't call our parting awkward but I got the sense this was a one-time
thing. But, fuck, his dimples and sly smile made my stomach dance
cartwheels of infatuation as I showed him to the door.

***

Only it wasn't the last I saw of Pressman. We had this insane, fiery
attraction that drew us to each other.

Andy and I meet once a week, in fact. I didn't have classes on Tuesdays and
Thursdays that spring semester. And Holt was barely around, between school,
his job and shacking up at Rich Underwood's.

So we had a routine and a ruse. The only way we knew to hook up without
getting caught. Every Tuesday, Andy went for a run during his lunch
hour. His route would take him down the alley behind me and Holt's house,
where he could duck in the back door undetected.

We were playing with dynamite and we both knew it. Pressman could lose his
job and fuck up his marriage, I could lose my scholarship and a whole hell
of scandal could come down on the entire program.

But, fuck, I was attracted to him like crazy, his straw-brown hair, perfect
smile, dimples, and green eyes, and the knowledge he had the hots for me.

It usually was mutual and usually oral between us, but I could tell
Pressmen was in the mood for something else one day. I'd just gotten back
from my morning workout and showered when he showed up.

"Hey," I grinned, standing up from the bar stool and dropping my towel. My
prick plopped out, not 100 percent erect but with a good chub going
on. Full, heavy. Like I knew he liked it.

"Whoo boy," Mr. Pressman said, stepping in and peeling off his dry-wick
shirt. "You're a hot sight, Jim." Impatiently he shucked his shorts and
kicked them off. He no longer bothered with a jockstrap and already his
7-incher was growing erect from his hairy crotch.

Our bodies met as we embraced then kissed. My dick was superhard now and I
thrust it wildly against his body.

"Someone's horny today," he growled.

"Yessir," I'm said. "I'm pretty sure I got two loads locked and loaded and
ready to fire." I added, "If you have time."

He reached down and gripped my erection. "I'll see what I can do." His
fingers squeezed my stalk, coaxing it into a firmer state. "Your roommate's
out, I take it?"

I nodded. "Want to go back to my room?"

He followed me like an excited puppy, and he wasted no time removing his
shoes and lying on my bed next to me.

"What are you in the mood for, Pressman?" I asked, my hands running along
his flank and my lips kissing up the side of his neck.

He growled and moaned as his body twisted into my kiss. "I'd love to fuck
you today," he said. "You up for that Big Guy?"

I paused. We'd never done that, over the last two months. "Umm, yeah," I
said. "That's be awesome."

Pressman smiled big and his cock jerked a little.

I rolled over on my stomach and moaned as he got into place between my
spread legs. The man's a master asseater. I had to think that married guys
were naturals at eating a dude out. He was at it now, even if we didn't
have time for a real long session, he made sure to give me a few minutes of
the best tonguework I'd encountered. Maybe without the thrill I got when
Dad did it, but on a pure technique level, yeah, Pressman was tops.

He applied a good coating of lube and crawled up on top of my prostrate
body. "In case you're wondering why I'm risking so much," he growled,
"You're an incredible fuck, McGrath." And he started entering me. I got off
when Andy called me by my last name, something he'd only do during sex. I
got off more now that I felt his bare cock inside me. I'd learned how to
take him by now, and my moans were ones of pleasure. "You like that...?" He
was applying pressure and I was starting to relax.

"Oh yeah. Fuck me, man," I urged. "Stick your dick up in me. All the way."

Encouraged, he pushed more in. He wasn't fat as I was, not nearly, but he
felt thick enough entering me. "Oh fuck!" Andy moaned as he bottomed out,
feeling the sensations of my contracting asswalls against his bare
prick. He took a second to get used to it and let me get used to it, and he
started.

Hard, steady thrusts. You can tell Pressman's a strong, in shape man, his
fuck strokes are powerful and have metronome precision.

"Goddamn, I'm fucking a student," he hissed. Pressman had a real guilt hang
up about what we were doing but once we were having sex the taboo fueled
his fires. Mine, too, though maybe not with quite the intensity.

"You like treating the school's athletes this way, sir?" I teased, knowing
it would get a rise out of him. It did.

"Goddamn, straight, you meathead jock. You guys are my fucking property."
It was a fun roleplay we did, and usually when Andy were swapping blowjobs,
I'd talk a similar game, maybe make up a scenario of him blowing the entire
Cavaliers baseball team. That usually had him doing double time on my dick.

But when he called me his property, something clicked in me. It was wrong,
I knew it, but my cock jerked and soaked my bedsheets beneath me as my
asswalls quivered in synch with my orgasm.

"Fuck, that's hot," Pressman grunted and fucked himself closer to his
nut. He licked up the back of my neck as he leaned forward against me. I
could feel the heaviness and regularity of his breath against my moist
skin, then he latched his mouth below my ear and stifled a cry. For the
first time in a couple of weeks, my ass was getting Pressman's married-dude
cum injected into me.

We lay like that for a while, too tired to move, too fucked out, and more
than a little guilty of where our libido was leading us. I craved the
skin-on-skin contact, even now when it was about the afterglow.

"Talk about quickie," he said, looking at my bedside clock. "Is that
correct?"

It had taken us less than five minutes to mate. I rolled over and
laughed. "Yeah, I guess we're not going to set any lovemaking records."

"Is that what this is, McGrath?" Andy asked slyly, as he ran his hands
along my bare back and pulling me in for another kiss. He was still erect,
and I could feel my hardon come back. "Making love?"

And now I was taking the lead, wrestling my way on top and sitting on this
perfect DILF's dick while Pressman grunted my whole way down.


***


Dad drove up to see my games again during baseball season. One April day he
seemed in a particularly good mood as we ate afterward. After we finished
eating, Dad swirled his plastic cup, now nearly empty. "You want another?"

I'd turned 21 and it was nice to have a beer with my burger after the
game. "Sure," I said. It was a Wednesday night and I didn't have class the
next day. I polished off the rest of my beer, and Dad pushed his big body
out of the picnic table and sauntered over to get a refill. I watched his
powerful body in motion, the middle-aged muscle showing off well in a snug
Navy T-shirt and shorts. Everything about Dad was attractive. The strength
of his upper body, the short masculine hair cut, the confident gait, the
furry legs. I felt a little bad for perving out on him, but by now I'd
resigned myself to my attraction to Dad.

When he returned we started talking about my game. "You were awesome,
today, Slugger. I mean, I know you're a great player, but I gotta admit,
it's amazing to watch know how great you've gotten."

I ate up his flattery. "My game's still not where I want it to be. I gotta
keep getting better."

Dad shook his head, mock-annoyed at my modestly. "I wouldn't be surprised
if those talent scouts are already sniffing at your tail."

"Maybe in more than one way," I winked.

Dad clapped his hands on his thighs and leaned back, looking me over. "I
bet you're serious, too. Aren't ya?" He quieted his voice. "If there was
anyone who could bed a major league scout, it would be my boy."

I laughed. "Nah. Just teasing, Dad. Though it is a little fantasy of mine,"
I admitted. All of a sudden I felt embarrassed. I mean, Dad and I had
shared more, a lot more, but it had been a while since our Spring Break
vacation and now that we'd put distance from each other on that level, it
seemed inappropriate to be talking about my sexual fantasies.

Dad got serious for a moment. "I know we haven't talked about things,
Slugger. But how are you doing? You happy? Seeing anybody?"

"Kind of, sir." I don't know where my deferential tone came from, but at
that moment the conversation just felt like a real father-son one. Dad
hearing me out, giving me his attention. "It's complicated."

Dad took a sip of his beer and gave me a look that was loving but
challenging. "Too complicated for your old man to understand?"

"No sir," I shook my head. "Too complicated for me. See... I've been seeing
this guy. Older. Married." I paused, and could see Dad's expression. Not
judgmental, exactly, but again, challenging me. "I know it's not right,
Dad," I muttered defensively, "I know you taught me better."

Dad paused, as if he was trying to think of the exact words to
choose. Slowly, he spoke. "Jimbo... I hope we're past the point where you
think I'm gonna lecture you. You're your own man now."

"I wish I were more of one," I said. Then, chuckling a little, I added, "I
bet you weren't hoping for such a heavy conversation on a Wednesday night."

His voice got real quiet all of a sudden. "I miss talking like this with
you, actually." My buds teased me for being a serious dude, but face to
face face with my father's earnestness, it's obvious where I got it from.

Something about his sincerity made me think I could press further. It was
the worst thing to ask your father, but I knew I had to. "Dad... you ever
cheat on Mom?"

My father bit his lip, a little shaken by my question. "I wish you wouldn't
ask me that."

"You don't have to answer it, sir. But I had to ask." I felt nervous as
hell now, but I was taking Dad at his word. That we were talking man to
man, not father to son.

"All right. I'll answer. If I can ask you a question, too."

Knowing Dad, I realized this would be a question I didn't want to answer. I
took a chance. "Deal."

"I loved your mother. But there was a man I was involved with as well."

"Uncle Jack?" I asked.

"That's two questions," Dad retorted, a little playfully. "But yes, what I
had with Jack sustained me through a lot of hard times. I'm not proud of
cheating on your mother, but I can't say I would do things differently
now."

"Can I make it three questions, Dad?" I ventured. "Why did it end between
you and him?"

"How do you know it did?" Dad said, cagily.

That took me off guard a second, had me second guessing myself.  Finally, I
countered, "I can just tell, Dad. You guys used to be so close."

Dad bumped his knee against mine under the picnic table of the outside
dining area. "You're not getting the long story, but the short story is he
realized he needed a man who could give more of himself."

I wanted to mention that Uncle Jack was still chasing emotionally
unavailable married men, but I bit my tongue. I got lost in my thoughts,
taking it all in, before I realized Dad hadn't asked me his question. "All
right, Dad. Ask away. You get three questions."

Dad popped a stray french fry into his mouth and followed it with some
beer. "Why do you do it son? You're young, about the hottest guy on the
planet and you could have anyone you wanted. But you have to go after a
married guy."

"Cause I wanna play ball. Professionally if I can."

Dad gave me a quizzical expression, so I explained. "I gotta stay in the
closet if I do." Dad started to object but I stopped him. "No, Dad that's
how it is, I know. It's my choice and while I can't say I'm happy with it,
I'm at peace with it, you know?"

"I do, actually." He looked at me with the fatherly affection that made my
heart melt. Unconditional, McGrath affection. "So you go looking for men
leading a double life," he filled in the blanks.

"It's safer that way," I answered. "Andy has as much to lose as me."

"Andy?" he asked. "So, I get a second question? Who is this guy?"

I wondered if I should answer. But this was my Dad, I couldn't deny him the
truth. "One of the University's Athletic Directors."

Dad leaned back and whistled. "Fuck, Jimbo, you go big or go home, dontcha?
No lectures, I promise, but please, son, be careful. You're courting real
trouble."

"I know, Dad," I said. "And I am careful. He is, too." I believed what I
was saying, but of course I'd had my nagging doubts that our tryst wasn't
as foolproof as Pressman and I had thought. I had finished my beer but was
now swirling the melting foam in my cup nervously. ""I tried dating someone
younger, but think I need an older guy," I said. I knew I shouldn't say
what I was about to say. "He's hard to resist, I think, because he reminds
me of you, sir. I mean, he doesn't have your body, but he's about the same
height and looks a lot like you."

Dad gulped. "Aw Slugger..." He looked me intently and I returned his gaze
as forthrightly as I could. My heart pounded like crazy and I felt my
muscles twitch spontaneously. Was this actually happening? Were Dad and I
really stepping up to this threshold once more? It had been a long year
since our last transgression, that trip to Mexico. I wanted this SO bad but
my mind was saying not to go there.

Dad spoke softly. "My third question. Would you mind if I asked you to come
back to my hotel room?"

There is was. Volleying the serve I'd sent him. I pushed my leg back
against his, tentatively at first, then signaling my willingness. "I
wouldn't mind, Dad. I've missed it." I was starting to throw hard just
thinking about the possibility.

"Missed it, too, Jimbo."

I had to add something though. "OK if this is on my terms, Dad? I don't
want to be selfish, but I can't go back to what it was like in Mexico."

He nodded. "Your terms, buddy. You can law down the law with your old man
back at my hotel, OK?"

"Sure."

We drove across town and made our way to his hotel. It was cool and the air
conditioning was the only sound. Dad flicked on a lamp and sat down.

"All right, shoot. You call the shots, Jimbo."

I sat on the edge of the bed, across from him. God he was handsome, dressed
in his Navy shirt and shorts, and his five o'clock stubble making his
handsome face even more masculine. It was a real trip to be able to look at
him like this, sexually, in an unabashed way, just us in a private setting.

"No kissing," I said. "And nothing romantic. No using the word love. No
sleeping in the same bed. Just sex."

"All right," he nodded, taking in what I was saying. "I can respect that."

"It's what I need, Dad," I explained. "Sorry. The other was too much for
me."

"I hear ya," he said, but made no indication that's what he was thinking,
too. Part of me wanted to know. Wondered if he had any romantic feelings
around me that he had to suppress. But that desire to see that in my father
is what made the problem between us in the first place.

"Just sex," he affirmed. "Any limits there?"

I smiled. "I hope not, sir."

He grinned and paused before continuing. "Am I allowed to initiate it? Ask
you for sex?"

I breathed heavily. It was SO hot to hear those words come out of my
father's mouth. I couldn't help but reach down and undo my shorts. I stood
up and peeled them down. Dad could see my hard on forming a tent in my
underwear. "As long as it's not romantic at all. Just sex." I thought a
second and added, "And as long as I'm allowed to ask you for it."

He nodded his assent. I could tell Dad was real horny now. His voice was
low and masculine and his body was practically shaking, betraying his cool
demeanor. "Is that is, Jim? Are those all the conditions?"

"Yes, sir." And before the words were out of my mouth, Dad has scooted
forward and peeled my briefs down, taking my hardon into his warm, wet
mouth. "Oh fuck," I groaned. "Suck me, Dad."

I think using the D word as he went down on me made my father go at it
harder. He sucked at me at furious pace, but he didn't have to make any
special effort to get me off. In a dozen or so bobs my orgasm started. Dad
and I had frequently had trigger control problems with each other, and the
prolonged absence meant I had no staying power inside his mouth. Jet after
jet of my sperm fired into him, caught in the sucking, peristalsis of his
throat as he groaned greedily.

When he backed off, Dad had a look of intense lust on his face. "Fuck
Jimbo, that was so fucking hot," he growled and practically lunged up at
me. I turned my head defensively, and Dad caught himself. "Sorry, Jim," he
hissed and stepped back a little. It was a strange role reversal from our
first time, when Dad wouldn't let me kiss him. But if I had fear he would
push things too far, my concerns were put to doubt, as he put his hands on
my shoulders to guide me into a seated position on the bed, his huge
phallus waving right in front of my face.

"Please, Slugger. Suck Daddy's cock. It's missed your mouth so much."

This time his groans were out loud, filling the hotel room, as I took his
dick head into my mouth, teasing it with the tongue, then swallowing more
of his rod.

I'd remembered Dad's cock size of course. I could conjure a nearly precise
image up when stroking off in my bedroom. But I was out of practice sucking
a phallus this fat and big. His hard presence stretched my mouth and jaw as
he worked himself inside me. Thankfully his trigger was short, too, and it
didn't take too much work to feel his amazing fatherly seed spurt into my
mouth, right toward the back of my throat. Briny, hot, and sweet, the
flavor lingered as he withdrew, satisfied.

Feeling spent from the sex and the beer, we lay down next to one
another. "Any regrets, Jimbo?" Dad breathed as he looked over at me.

"No, sir. It was perfect. Only next time I want to last longer. I get too
excited around you."

"I know what you mean, Slugger. You make me feel like a teenager again."
His fingers ran softly along my chest muscle, and I wondered if he was
taking note of how my fur had grown back in, thicker this time. "I'll take
you back, if you're ready."

Was he testing me? To see if I'd stay over? I maintained my resolve and
hiked up my briefs and shorts. "Yeah, I'm kind of tired."

Dad got dressed again and grabbed his wallet and keys. As we started to
leave, he put his hand on my shoulder and stopped me. "Thanks for taking a
chance, Slugger," he said. "I've been wanting that."

I looked at him, emotion heavy in my chest. He was the most handsome man in
the world. "Me, too, Dad. That was perfect."

He smiled and squeezed my shoulder and then opened the door to usher me
out.