Date: Sun, 07 Apr 2002 19:06:28 +0000 From: To Shy To Say Subject: My Best Friend Pete (and his dad): Part 1 Disclaimer: This document contains Adult Material. If it is illegal where you live to view adult material, leave now! If you find Adult material offensive, you may also leave now. If you have not left, then it is assumed you are either not illegal and/or not offended. So sit back and hopefully enjoy. Copyright by Jake McKenzie, 2002, permission given to Nifty Archives to reprint this story. Feedback is much appreciated! Please send mail to: to_shy_to_say@hotmail.com, flames ignored. My Best Friend Pete (and his dad): Part 1 By Jake McKenzie There was one night that stands out in my mind that Pete told me about. The night he and his dad... well, I'll let you read what happened for yourself. I had left Pete's house at around 10PM on a Sunday night in August. The next night he was on ICQ and he was rather quiet. After trying to get him to talk for a few minutes he finally opened up. Here's what happened to him: After I had left, he went on the computer for a little while. The usual: email, ICQ, some chess, nothing out of the ordinary for a Sunday night. Around 10:30 his dad walked in and asked if he wanted to play some ping-pong. Being as he had nothing better to do, like, oh, I don't know, his homework, or sleep, he agreed. They went downstairs into the recreation area of the basement. Typical Pete, pulled his shirt off, tossed it aside and talked a little trash to his dad. Pete was awesome looking. At least to me he was. His black curly hair reminded me of Pete Sampras. He wasn't over-muscular, but he had some definition. I guess he was what you'd call thin, but he wasn't a rail. He wasn't six-packed, but there wasn't any fat on his midsection. His body always looked like it had a tan, but it was his natural color. His dark brown eyes and quirky ways could melt anyone's heart. Standing there barefoot and shirtless in his baggy pants, he must have looked amazing. His dad on the other hand, I didn't like him. He was somewhere between overweight and just plain fat. Maybe he wasn't that big, but he had somewhat of a gut on him. He had a thick Polish accent that I couldn't understand for the life of me. Most frustrating was when he would talk in Polish to Pete in front of me. I couldn't understand what was being said, which was very frustrating to me. Suffice it to say I didn't care for him. Pete had little choice, being as it was his dad. They seemed to get along okay for the most part. Typical father/teenager relationship I suppose. They picked up their paddles and started rallying. They decided on sides and how many games to play and all the rest of the ground-rules. After the fifth game Pete paused to take off his pants. There was nothing out of the ordinary about that. He was frequently running around the house in nothing but his boxer shorts. They continued to play for a while before Pete's greed got the better of him. "Want to play for something?" he asked. "Like what?" his dad asked. "I don't know. What do you want to bet?" he replied. Their bets generally consisted of a few packs of smokes of a carton or something like that. "A hundred bucks," Pete replied, hoping to beat his dad for some quick cash. "OK, if you beat me, you get a hundred bucks. But you don't have a hundred bucks. What do I get?" "What do you want?" "Hmmmm... Ok, if I win, you..." his dad hesitated for a few moments while thinking. "You have to suck me off," his dad said. Pete looked stunned. "W-w-what?" Pete stammered in amazement. "What's the matter? Know you're going to lose?" "No, but..." "But what?" After a long silence, Pete looked at his dad with all the confidence he could muster, set his bottom lip and replied, "Bring it on!" So there he was, in nothing but his boxer shorts, playing ping-pong against his dad in their basement. Pete lost most of the time, but there were times when he could beat his dad. This wasn't one of those times. He played his best, but his dad calmly returned everything that Pete hit at him. Pete jumped around and dove for every ball that he could get to. Some balls barely caught the edge of the table to score points. Some caught the net and just flopped over to the other side. It was Pete's turn to serve late in the game. He was losing 17-13. He was sweating. More than he usually did, but his face was a picture of concentration. His first serve caught the net and didn't even make it over. 18-13. His next serve was great and caught his dad unaware, but he recovered for a pop-up return. Pete set himself to smash it, but it caught the net and careened off to the side, missing the table. 19-13. Pete won the next two rallies to make it 19-15. He then missed the table on his last serve to make the game 20-15. To have any hope, he would have had to break all five of his dad's serves. He managed to break the first three with some solid shots. His dad's fourth serve though, had too much spin for Pete to handle and his return fell short of the net. "That's game." Pete looked dejected and slammed the paddle down. He wasn't sure if his dad was going to make him go through with the bet or not. The phone rang. It was for Pete's dad. Pete walked over to the smoking area of the basement and sat down and lit up a cigarette. "Saved by the bell," he thought. After about ten minutes of talking, his dad hung up. He walked over to the table and sat down and pulled out a cigarette and lit up. Pete lit up another, thinking he was in the clear. They sat in silence for a few minutes as they both smoked. When Pete's cigarette was done, he put it out and got up from the table. "Night papa," he said, as he headed toward the door to go upstairs. His dad set down his cigarette. "Goodnight Piotr," he called back. "Oh... Piotr," he raised his voice to make sure Pete would hear him. He picked up his cigarette and took a puff. A few seconds later, Pete stuck his head around the corner. "Aren't you forgetting something?" his dad asked. Pete was getting nervous. "No, what?" he replied, hoping his dad had forgotten the bet. "We had a bet." His dad stared at him intently and ground his cigarette into the ashtray in front of him. He got down onto the floor and settled himself into the always-present pile of pillows that Pete and his friends used to wrestle on. "Yea, but..." Pete's voice trailed off. "Come here," his dad started firmly. Pete walked back into the room. His thin, but muscular body shivered in his pure black silk boxer shorts. Pete wasn't against sucking his dad's cock, but he wasn't for it. He didn't know how he felt. He walked over to where his dad was and looked down at him. His dad was smiling at him. "You lost. You have to do it," he said sternly. Pete didn't move for a minute or two. "Come on," his dad encouraged, "go ahead and do it." Pete stood there for a few seconds. He then got down on his hands and knees in front of his dad. "That's my boy," his dad cooed, his cock already hard and tenting his shorts. Pete reached out and grabbed his father's crotch and then let go. "Keep going," his dad egged him on. Pete settled in on his knees in front of his dad's out-stretched legs. He leaned forward and unzipped his dad's shorts. He gulped as he reached into his dad's underwear and pulled out his cock. His dad's cock throbbed in his hand. He felt the warmth in it. His dad just laid back and closed his eyes and made some mumbling sounds. Pete began to work his hand up and down the uncut dick. He pulled the foreskin back to reveal part of the mushroom head before bringing it up and over and watched his dad shudder with pleasure. "Come on now, suck me off," his dad urged. Pete bent over and took the head of his dad's cock in his mouth. He pulled off quickly though. His dad looked at him and fixed him with a stare. Pete knew he meant business. He went back down and licked the tip of his dad's penis. He slowly licked all over the part of the head that was showing. Then he pushed his tongue down under the foreskin and licked what couldn't be seen. His dad pushed his cock up towards Pete's mouth in anticipation. Finally Pete let it slide into his mouth. He got up all the saliva he could and started working his tongue around the venous tube in his mouth. Slowly, he worked the penis further into his mouth. Pete was fairly new to cock sucking and didn't know how to do it. He just kept trying to take more of it in. When about five inches of his dad's cock was between his lips and on his tongue, he knew he couldn't take anymore in. He began to move back off his dad's dick. When it was out, he repeated the process. Before long, Pete was onto a rhythm and didn't have to remove the cock from his mouth. He would leave just his tongue bathing the head for a few seconds before plunging back down onto his dad's swollen member. After about 15 minutes of rhythmical sucking, his dad's legs began to tense up and he started moaning. Pete knew he was getting close so he picked up the pace. Up; move this tongue around the glans; build up saliva; go back down and take it in, over and over again. His dad pushed up every time his son took his cock deep into his mouth. At last, he couldn't take any more pleasure and he began to ejaculate. Pete wasn't ready for it, but luckily he started shooting when he just had the head in his mouth. Pete felt the warm cum hit the back of his mouth and mix with the saliva he had built up. The thick cock continued to spasm. Spurt after spurt of salty cum was shot into Pete's waiting mouth. He kept his lips clamped around as dad jabbed his dick up and down quickly. When his dad finished shooting he pulled his limp penis from his son's mouth. Pete was ready to spit out his dad's load into a nearby ashtray. "No you don't!" his dad uttered, slightly exhausted, grabbing the ashtray away from him, "Eat it." Pete's cheeks were filled with dad's semen and saliva dripped from his chin. He looked at his dad, thinking he was joking around. His dad remained stone faced though. Pete couldn't hold the mixture in any longer. He wiped his chin on a pillowcase and took a long swallow to get the thick liquid down. He gagged a little but managed to swallow it all. "Now, put my cock back and do up my shorts for me." Pete did so without saying a word. When he was done, he sat there on his knees, waiting for his dad to tell him what to do next. "I thought you were going to bed," his dad queried. Pete got up and started to leave the room. "Oh, Piotr?" his dad called after him. Pete stopped and turned. "Goodnight." "Goodnight papa," Pete replied and walked out of the room. He went upstairs and went into the washroom. He rinsed his mouth out with mouthwash and brushed his teeth. He would have done that on any other night, of course, but he really wanted to get rid of the aftertaste of his dad's cum. As he walked into his bedroom he realized something. He was hard. Not just his usual nighttime hard-on, he had a raging bone that needed to be released. He closed the door to his bedroom and lay back on his bed. He unbuttoned the fly of his boxers and pulled his cock out and began jacking. Oddly enough, his mind drifted back to a few minutes ago when he was sucking his dad off and not to the usual images of his girlfriend or some hot internet girl. He couldn't believe having his dad practically force him to suck him off and then swallow his load had turned him on so much. After a few seconds of masturbating, he shot his load across his chest and stomach. He grabbed a sock off the floor and wiped himself clean. He then took his boxers off, walked over and turned off the light and then crawled into bed. He lay there for a few minutes before he drifted off to sleep, secretly hoping that that night wouldn't be the last time he and his dad got together.