Date: Sat, 18 Jun 2016 13:33:59 +0000 (UTC) From: a4f101@yahoo.com Subject: The Father's Day Club Part 3: The Welcoming Committee Here's a story taken from my Tumblr, at a4f101.tumblr.com/storytime. You can find this one, and the pic that inspired it, here: http://a4f101.tumblr.com/post/122068247045/ This story is purely a work of adult erotic fantasy, copyright me 2016. I own it and all legal rights to it. If you're under the age of majority in your jursdiction, please come back when you're of legal age. Nifty is an incredible free service that depends on your donations to survive. It changed my life, and maybe it's changed yours too. Please help them to keep providing this awesome resource for all of us: http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html I love hearing from you guys. a4f101@yahoo.com. Enjoy. ***** No matter how old we got, how much things changed in our lives, how much we'd changed, there was nothing like this. This moment. Close with my brothers, naked, hard, skin on skin, fur on fur, lips on flesh. We'd been exploring this since we were teenagers, at first just me and my big brother Phil, then Davey joining us, before Dad had discovered our unique bond, our closeness, and our special affection for him, that Father's Day weekend nearly four decades ago. It had become a tradition for us, a time of special closeness, a celebration of our unique bond, one that we shared with each other whenever we could - but never more strongly, more powerfully, more deeply than we did on Father's Day. For years, since we'd become fathers ourselves, this had been the one constant in our lives - each other. Dad's passing had changed the character of our special closeness a little at first, but then it had become a celebration of him - of all the things he'd shown us, taught us, shared with us. The powerful, loving bond we had as family men. And now, we were becoming four again. For the first time, welcoming another of our family men into the Father's Day Club. He'd waited eight long years to join us, since he first discovered what we had, and even though my boy Chris had explored the pleasures of manly intimacy with me and my brothers separately, one on one, or sometimes two on one, in the years since he'd stumbled upon our special connection as a big, horny 18-year-old kid, this was his first time joining all of us together. A father, like us. Celebrating his first special Father's Day, both as a new dad himself, and as one of us. When Phil and Dave learned that Chris had found us out, that he'd tailed us to the Hilton that weekend, driven by his curiosity, his lust, and his deep need to connect, we'd all wondered what to do about it. Should we let him in with us? Let him join this? They were both interested, both ready to let him explore, and explore him in return - I was proud to say that my boy, as the eldest of all our kids, had turned into a damn fine specimen of young man - but there had to be a price, too. Our bond was for us, our secret, our shared thing, and to have Chris barge into it didn't seem right. It wasn't about punishing him - if it was, Phil and I would never have taken each end of my boy, and double-teamed him that spring break weekend down in the Virgin Islands, and Dave sure wouldn't have gone to Chris' college campus for a coaching conference and then relentlessly bred his college jock boy ass in his hotel room. Not to mention all the other playful adventures we'd shared with the kid over the years since. It wasn't about punishing him, as much as it was about setting expectations. Teaching Chris the value of men's secrets, of the special bond between brothers, and fathers, and the particular satisfaction of working towards a long-desired reward. Earning it. The kind of Manly Lesson our Dad had taught all of us growing up, and that I'd tried to do with Chris and his little brother Connor too. Chris hated that, but he respected it, and he learned from it, and we liked to think it was part of making him a better man in the process. He'd come through college with a solid GPA, put in three years kicking ass at his first big-boy job, and with a year of marriage to a lovely girl he'd met his senior year and a solid little home of their own, Chris was the proud father to a baby boy himself. And more than that, he could join us at last, all of us, the way he'd long wanted to. Become a member of the Father's Day Club. Right now, he was naked, slowly fisting that big, tasty cock of his, all solid-built and strong, in his mid-20s prime, content to just watch us together. Me and my brothers, fusing together in one big mound of brotherly, lusty flesh, our first time as one in a good few months. Phil and Dave were kissing, deep and hungry and passionate, connected, as I nuzzled along the strong swell of my little brother's shoulder. I loved to watch them too - I guess my boy Chris took after me in so many ways - and the upright throb of my Dad cock between Dave's strong, solid glutes was a reaction to watching them, and being watched by my son. Showing him what he was joining. What he'd waited for, impatiently at times, but respectfully too. His moment. A celebration of his achievement, of becoming a father like us. After several minutes of shifting hands, kissing lips, tongues dancing and tasting, coming together and shifting and recombining in different configurations, I looked back over at my big boy. All man now. Getting hair on his chest like us, a full head of thick blond hair in contrast to the mix of dark and blond and silver on ours. That big, son-making cock of his, wet like us, hard like us. He reminded me strongly of our father, built big and solid like him, the echoes of Dad's face and mine in Chris' good-looking mug. Hey, I was his Dad - I had a right to be proud of him. And so I reached out my hand. Chris smiled with big, boyish excitement, like he used to smile on Christmas morning, and then he stepped over to us, took my hand, and let me draw him in. Three became four, and we eased the young father in between us, surrounding him with the solidity of our middle-aged muscles, our strong hands, the hard arcs of our paternal cocks, the crisp tangle of our manly fur. Soft moans and grunts. Whispers of welcome, of love, of appreciation. The sounds of soft, wet, deep smacking kisses between men. Family men. The graze of slow-leaking cockheads on skin. I pressed up behind my boy, up against that fine former tight end's ass that I'd become so familiar with these past few years. He pushed back into me instinctively, against the hard, leaking length of cock that had created him, as I kissed my way over his broad, muscled shoulders. Felt his shiver as I teased my lips and tongue along his traps, up the nape of his neck. Heard his low, deep, husky moan as his uncles, my brothers, Phil and Dave worked his front side over, nuzzling and licking and nibbling down over my boy's solid pecs, through the blond hair on them, suckling on his big, stiff nips, licking and kiss-tracing down over the still-defined furry solidity of his abs. Chris moaned deeper as I kissed that certain spot behind his left ear, as his big hunky uncles took his thick cock in their hands and lapped at either side of it. The best part of playing with more than one was the extra attention you could give like this. I still remembered the way Dad had bellowed and come like a rocket, the first time he received this treatment from his boys. Chris hadn't yet had the pleasure, even on that long, sweaty, lusty weekend with me and Phil. I peered down over his shoulder, past the swell of my boy's pec, seeing my brothers lick and lap up the length of his shaft, lavishing the helmet head of him with their talented tongues, licking their way up to the very tip and into a searing, dripping, grunting brother kiss, my boy's slick head trapped beautifully between their lashing lips and tongues. He vibrated in my arms, pressing even more back into me, tilting his head back and around so we could kiss, deep and wet. Still his favorite thing to do. And especially with me, he often said, and I believed him. I loved kissing my big boy even more than I'd loved doing it with Phil, and Dave, and even our own Dad, who could kiss like he'd invented the art of it. Phil and Dave kiss-teased Chris' big, throbbing cock to the brink, then eased up on him, sharing his taste with each other some more before turning their mouths on his, as I pushed him into a searing three-way kiss with them. Then Chris pulled me in with them, and we just let our tongues and lips connect and dance as best we could, ramping up the heat and intensity and sweat between us. Then it was time to go to the next level. We guided Chris back to the big bed, and he fell back with a grateful, eager grin and a stiff, precum-spraying cock, landing with a bounce on the mattress as we climbed aboard to join him. We treated him like the sex object he was, giving him our best, treating him like we'd treated our Dad so many times, so many Father's Days over the years we'd been together like this. "Bring me in, Dad," Chris finally moaned after a solid ten minutes of the royal treatment. "Make me one of you." Hell, the past several years, we'd all done just about everything with him that two, or more men can do together. But we all knew just what he meant. Us three brothers took turns licking and lapping and probing at the tight, fur-rimmed pucker of my son's hole, while he moaned and writhed and urged us on lustily. Once he was ready, my brothers' big hands on my arms and back guided me up, my son spreading his athlete's thighs with a warm, welcoming grin. A dream of his finally coming true. Ushering in the next phase of his life, as I pressed the soaked, dripping head of my dad cock to my son's hole. Not for the first time, or even the hundredth time. But for the first time as two fathers together. "Welcome to the Father's Day Club, Son," I murmured, pressing my cock harder, feeling him open and accept me, thrilling to his deep, hungry moan as I sank into him. On either side of us, my brothers kneeled, slowly stroking their cocks with one hand, rubbing my boy's big, hunky body with the other. Easing him onto fatherhood properly, intimately, sensually. Making him one of us for life, now. Giving him his reward. Just hearing those words, feeling me pulse inside him, the tender, manly affections of his uncles all over him, made my boy's eyes widen, and though I know he wanted to hold back, he began to moan, writhe, buck his hips, and then spurt his seed. His paternal seed. A father, and a man in full now. it was damn beautiful, and exciting, and I continued to thrust and plunge deep inside his familiar, tight, clutching depths, ready to seed my son, to breed him like I'd bred his mother the night I created him. And soon, I was there, kissing him and my brothers and plowing my hard Dad cock up inside of him, painting the walls of his insides with my hot father's cum. Anointing him, at last, as one of us. A man in full. A father. As he might one day do the same for his own son. Slowly, Phil and Dave took their turns, and after an hour, Chris was fully one of us, joined with us on the most intimate level. We laughed, kissed, caught our breath, sheeted sweat and cum off of our naked bodies between kisses and murmurs, maintaining the sweetness of body contact. "So, Dad," Chris eventually piped up with a big, satisfied grin and a twinkle in his eye. "You think Connor might want in on this too?" That had us all chuckling, then growling, then kissing, our cocks hardening again. "I don't know, Son," I murmured against his lips between kisses. "One thing you'll learn as a father is you have to step back and let the kids find their own way. And if you do everything right, they'll find the right way. Give him time. He'll be welcome, if he wants it. And in the meantime..." "Happy Father's Day," Phil and Dave and I all said in unison, and we all laughed, and then we sank down into the bed together to continue celebrating.