Date: Mon, 25 Apr 2005 12:05:08 +0100 From: Story Teller Subject: THE CHIP gay incest The usual copyright rules apply to this and all my stories. Comments are very welcome THE CHIP I've never been into younger men, always preferring my own age group or older, at the age of 38 my preference is for guys 35-45, anything outwith that span doesn't appeal to me: that's what makes the whole story so weird. It started in a gay pub in Nottingham two months ago where I have been living and working for ten years. I was having a drink at the bar with some mates when I heard a loud clear laugh down the other end. I turned to see who was laughing and saw a young guy I had never seen before but who looked vaguely familiar. I stared for a couple of seconds trying to work out who he reminded me of then he turned and caught me so I looked away. Later one of my mates said, "Don't look now but there is a young guy at the bottom of the bar devouring you with his eyes". I knew who it was so I didn't look but I did steal a glance now and then in the bar mirror, he definitely reminded me of someone. A couple of drinks later, a mate said, "That young guy down there, he looks like you". I turned and looked again, he was nothing like me, but then again he did sort of resemble me when I was his age, although he was shorter, darker, but across the eyes and around the mouth, yes he bore a slight likeness: I was happy, now I knew who he reminded me of. As the evening wore on, and someone was in the middle of telling a joke, a voice behind me said, "I thought I heard a Scottish Accent, where are you from"? I turned and there stood the young man from the other end of the bar. "Outside Glasgow", I said, (when in doubt, be obscure, that's my motto). "My Mum is Scottish", he said for the want of something to say. "Nice", I commented. He was not easily put off, though, he stood his ground and talked, asked questions, joked until I began to think "I like his cheek", and thawed a bit, I did not fancy the boy, but I liked him. He told me he was visiting friends from university, staying for a weekend; he asked about my work, where I stayed etc, offered to buy me a drink, told me his name was Darren. Finally he said, "Look, I've made myself as obvious as possible, I am starting to sound cheap, but I'm going to stand here and pester you all night until you invite me home with you". I burst out laughing then, anyone else might have got a barbed reply, even a bit of violence if they refused to move but he was just so cocksure and brazen I had to admit that I liked his style. I was ready for leaving anyway, so I said "You are cute and funny. I don't go for cute but I like funny, so if you want to come back, have a drink, maybe something to eat then you are more than welcome,". He settled for that and we left and walked to my flat. He never stopped talking but strangely he wasn't boring. He asked questions without sounding nosey, he commented on every answer. He told me he was studying English literature and I told him how much I envied him, that was what I had wanted to do but had settled on a science course because it offered better prospects. When we got into the flat he looked around like a prospective buyer. He looked at the drinks bar and said "Aren't you going to pour me a drink?" I said "I don't mind cheeky bastards but I hate lazy bastards, pour your own, so he did, fixing a whisky and soda for me without being told. I offered food but he wasn't hungry so I threw some crisps and nuts into some bowls and put them on the table. Again he made a play for me but I explained carefully and politely that although he was a very handsome and sexy young man, he just wasn't my type. We chatted for several hours which seemed like 15 minutes and before I knew it, it was too late for him to leave. I told him that I wasn't keen on sending anyone off into the night, but I could make up a perfectly comfortable bed on the sofa for him which he accepted. As I fetched a sheet and pillow from the cupboard he said, "You know, after I leave here tomorrow, you won't have any regrets, but one day you will remember the young guy who slept on your sofa and you will wonder for a second what might have happened if you had taken him to bed". I smiled and said, "Well, I guess I'll have to wonder", but I remembered a chance I turned down with someone else several years ago which had haunted me since. I left him with the bedding, showed him where everything was in the bathroom and told him he could have it in 5 minutes when I was finished. As I left the bathroom I called to him that it was free. A few minutes later I heard the extractor fan that kicks on when the bathroom light is switched off then my bedroom door opened. I looked up expecting him to ask for a towel or say goodnight or something but he just stood there, naked. "I decided when I saw you looking at me that I wanted to have sex with you, and I'm not leaving without trying. You can throw me out, you can ignore me, but I really want you. I don't want a relationship or long time commitment, just a hot session". Unfortunately when he strode over and pulled my cover back the sight of his tight muscular body and hard cock had set me off so I couldn't lie and say he didn't turn me on. He jumped on me like a cat on a wounded bird and devoured my face while straddling my stomach. He moved to my throat and I had to pull him off before he marked me so he kept on to my nipples. I was beginning to think he was going to work them until he got milk but eventually he slid on down to grasp my balls and slide my cock into his mouth. I was about to turn him so that I could reciprocate when he pulled off, moved up until his cock was against mine. "Hey, look, you are taller and broader than me but our cocks are exactly the same size". He was right, they were the same length, just over six inches, diameter four inches, and even the heads looked the same. I grabbed him and pulled him round so that I could get that dick into my mouth and we nuzzled and sucked on each other until we were gasping for breath but neither of us would finish. He looked up: "Do you like getting fucked"? he asked. "It has been known", I replied, "But I think to give is better than to receive". He just laughed then said "Chances each then, me first". He grabbed my legs and lifted them but I shouted, "Hold on, slow down, there is some KY and condoms in the top drawer of the bedside cabinet. He took out two condoms, slipped one under the pillow then put the other one on. He took the KY and greased my hole working some inside me. "Easy, kid, it's been a while", I said and he gently opened me with his fingers before sliding the head of his dick into my tight ring. He was experienced enough to wait then slowly push into me until he was embedded totally. After I got used to it (it really had been a while) I enjoyed again the feeling of being filled, possessed that only a good fuck can bring. He started his rhythmic probing slowly but soon built up, rising up and driving down into me until I was panting and sighing with pleasure His efforts redoubled as he got nearer to a climax and eventually he paused, pushed as hard as he could then held himself in me as his cock throbbed and spurted. This was enough to get my own dick into top gear and I spouted my sperm over both of us. It took him about ten minutes to relax enough to withdraw and he slowly licked me clean. He started immediately sucking on my cock but I was too sore and had to pull him off. "Come on, it's your turn now" he said. "Hold on", I said, "Obviously you are not used to sleeping with thirty eight year old men", I laughed, "I may need a few minutes to recover". We kissed and caressed for about twenty minutes and I started to get exited again. Darren noticed immediately and began to suck on me again. When I was hard he put his hand under the pillow, took the second condom and slipped it onto me then straddled me and positioned his hole over my cock. He pressed down but nothing was happening. I was beginning to think that he was still a virgin when, with a 'Pop' I was in to the hilt. He moaned and writhed on me as I raised my hips against him and we worked against each other. I tried to delay as long as I could but to no avail, he brought me to a glorious climax despite myself and shot sperm over my face and chest at the same time. Afterwards we cuddled, me spooning into his back and we fell asleep together. In the night I awoke from a beautiful dream to realise my dream was reality; I really was being sucked off. Later when I realised my hand was wrapped around a hard cock I returned the favour. In the morning we awoke about seven o'clock and I started getting ready for work. When I returned to the bedroom he was standing looking at a group of fifteen photographs I have framed and hanging on my wall, each one a memory of my life. He pointed to one of me taken at my eighteenth birthday party with my two 'best mates' The three musketeers, friends until death; we don't even exchange Christmas cards now. "That's my uncle Steven", he said. I went over and sure enough he was pointing at Stevie Bennett, my best mate. "He's my mum's brother, her name is Margaret", he added. For a second I thought, "of course, that explains everything, he must remind me of Stevie", but I looked again at those eyes, that mouth, the single dimple on the left side of his face and it flooded back to me. Just after my eighteenth birthday we went to another party, Stevie's younger sister was there, we got drunk, I "did the deed" with her. The family had moved south about a month later and we lost touch. "Your uncle Steven was my best pal", I said and told him a few stories of the things we got up to. "What age are you anyway, Darren" I asked. I'm nineteen, nearly twenty", he replied. My sums added up. "And is your dad Scottish too? I asked. "No, my mum met him after they moved to England, actually he is my step-dad, my mum had me before she met him". My mind was in turmoil, I felt sick. "What's up, you look terrible" he asked. "Oh it's just a stomach thing I get in the morning, I'll be alright. I made breakfast for us both, insisting he sit and eat it: I was running late but so fucking what. I suggested to Darren that maybe he shouldn't tell his parents or his uncle Steven about what happened but he assured me that although they knew he was gay he wasn't in the habit of telling them of one-night stands. I pushed my luck a bit further and told him that his mother and uncle both knew I was gay (not true, I didn't discover that I was until I was twenty three) so it might be better that he didn't mention meeting me at all because they might put two and two together. He agreed with that as well but as he left he said "Maybe we can do this again". I probably sounded too brutal when I said, "I don't think so, as I told you, I'm into older guys, you were a decent fuck but I prefer the real thing. So there you have it. Is he my son? Did my calculations work out right? Or was it all a terrible coincidence, maybe Margaret got humped by someone else about the same time and the look thing, well, after all he wasn't identical to me. Fuck, maybe one of my cousins had a romp with Margaret, yes that would explain it.