Date: Tue, 13 Aug 2002 19:56:27 -0400 (EDT) From: Rob Andresen Subject: Truly, the Best Man It was finally happening! My youngest son was getting married! It was a major event in our family since he and his brother had been single since well after college and I was beginning to wonder about them. True, Peter had been on dates and had brought his girlfriends over on occasion, but since the divorce from their mother, only David had seemed serious about the women he brought home. This one was something else but then I wasn't about to give my son unwanted advice. He seemed happy and I thought he knew what he was getting into so I butted out. That didn't mean I couldn't do a little dishing with Peter since it was apparent that he shared my lower opinion of Brianna. But the wedding was planned and it seemed as though things were going well. Peter flew in from Denver to be his brother's best man and even their mother promised that she would show up. That would be a major accomplishment for her. I divorced her when the boys were in high school, mainly because she was going down on everything with a dick in a fifty mile radius. Unfortunately for me, at the time, I was doing the exact same thing and when the guy I was blowing confided in me that he had been with her earlier that day, I knew that things had to change. I dropped the divorce bomb on her that evening and kept the other part of the secret a while longer, mainly so she wouldn't have any ammunition against me in court. I also decided that it was time for me to become more serious about being gay, even if it was only known to the men whom I met at the bars and clubs. So I left her in her 2400 square foot suburban home and traveled to Chicago where I could be myself and not have to hide my feelings from many people. Still, it did make things a little awkward when my boys came to stay on occasion. I had an adequate porn collection, mainly bi and gay movies that featured hirsute men and lots of cum. But those items went into my secret storage locker whenever the boys came around. And I never entertained when they were there, that would have been too much for me to explain right then. And so, when David moved to Chicago and met this girl, I was hard pressed to keep things quiet and not to reveal myself when he and Brianna came to visit me, unannounced. But then I was never really the flashy type. Still, I was settling in to a life that didn't offer me much in the way of companionship. I had become a father at a young enough age, Peter when I was 18 and David two years later. So now, at age 47, I was still in relatively good shape but not able to find much in the men I met. There's something about being gay and over 40 that seems to sound the death knell for finding a true relationship. At least David seemed to have discovered his true love. I could only hope Peter would find his as well. The time we spent before the rehearsal dinner was somewhat uncomfortable as I discovered that my oldest son and I had very little in common to talk about. True, we both loved science fiction and soccer, but once we got over the awesome year of World Cup, what more was there to say. I didn't pry into his personal life as he left mine alone, but I still felt that I was losing something in the silence. And now, as he sat across from me, his ready grin accentuating his tan and gleaming white teeth, I realized that what I really feared was his condemnation of me. I loved my sons, with all my heart, and I was afraid that by revealing who I was that they would revile me and drown me further in a despair of lonliness. I was already alone in the community I had adopted, how could I stand that in the family I had made? As I pondered what to do I let my mind wander as I did on occasion and began seeing my oldest son for the first time in a long time. He had gone to college and graduated with a degree in Public Administration before heading west to live in the Denver area and rising through the ranks to become City Manager for one of the suburbs. I was proud of my son but I saw in him what the people he worked for would see: the tanned face with ice blue eyes; the ready smile revealing perfect bright white teeth; a tuft of fur escaping from his white polo shirt; the soft downy hair at his wrist that darkened as it climbed along his arm. I suddenly realized with embarrassment that I was growing aroused, my cock pulsing softly in my faded jeans. What was I doing? Here I was, judging my son as a gay man instead of as his father, like I should. I averted my eyes, a flush growing along my neck as I tried to think of other things. I glanced back at him and caught him grinning at me, his eyes sparkling in the light from the candles on the table. His brother made another comment and everyone laughed so I pretended to have heard and grinned back at him. I stood and raised my glass, toasting my youngest son and wishing him all the happiness he could find and then turned back to Peter and raised my glass to him as well. "To Peter. May he find his happiness as well!" We downed our drinks and called for more, the roast pork being forgotten in a sea of white wine. As the evening progressed, more of the guests took their leave to get home or to their hotels, to prepare, they said, for the wedding to be held the next day. I don't know whether it was the erotic thoughts of my son or something akin to celebration but I had a bit more to drink than I should have and was unable to remain on my own feet for long. It was fortunate that Peter was staying with me, otherwise I would not have made it home. He poured me out of the cab, paid the fare, and helped me up the stairs to my townhome. As we crossed the sidewalk a young man in tight shorts and tank top whistled at me and winked bawdily. "Whooeee! Looks like someone scored well tonight! Don't wear him out too much, honey!" And with a wicked laugh he headed down the street toward the more active part of Boystown. I had decided to live there because of its proximity to the bars and things but now I was feeling too embarrassed about that choice to say anything. Peter, on the other hand, chuckled and kept us moving. "If he only knew, eh Dad?" I nodded numbly, fear gripping my heart in its icy palm. We made it inside and Peter dropped me on the sofa in the living room to begin recovering. He busied himself in the kitchen and I soon smelled a dark, rich coffee brewing. My boy came back out with a steaming mug for me and one of tea for himself, setting it on the coffee table before me. I grunted my thanks and downed a swig to start. The liquid burned its way down my throat and I sighed. I really had taken a few too many drinks tonight. Despite the caffeine in the coffee, I was feeling quite relaxed and almost drowsy as we sat in companionable silence and enjoyed the sounds of Chicago on a cool fall night. It was Peter who broke the silence. "So, what do you think of Brianna tonight, Dad? She still rub you the wrong way?" "Yeah. I know your brother loves her, but she is such a pretentious bitch." I clapped my hand over my offending orifice almost as quickly as the words left it. Peter laughed heartily and shook his head. "Dad! You know I shouldn't be hearing this." I chuckled and grinned back at him. "Yeah, I suppose so. But you're a man now, you can hear your old man saying things like that on occasion. Besides, am I lying?" Peter smiled that brilliant smile of his and shook his head. "No, Dad. I happen to agree that she is definitely too big for her britches and trying to be some Martha Stewart clone. I think she lost that battle though when she told me that her Thanksgiving turkey came out dry, even though she followed Martha's recipe to the letter!" "Huh. Bet she didn't score the skin. That'll kill it every time!" Peter sat there grinning at me for a minute before I realized what I had done. Here, I had gone and made a comment about cooking and he had only seen me make pancakes. I blushed furiously and ducked my head. "So how do you know stuff like that, Dad? You subscribe to Living too?" I chuckled. "Yeah, I do pay attention to that kinda thing these days. I mean, it's good to have a well kept house and you never know what it might bring later." "Ah yes, Dad. Someday you'll make some guy very happy, little Miss Suzie Homemaker!" He chuckled as I flushed intensely, his comment having hit a little too close to home. But then his eyes widened as he saw my reaction and his grin turned slightly evil. "Oh. I didn't know. I'm sorry, Dad. I didn't mean to embarrass you but it's all right. I've known for some time now." I stared at him in disbelief. Was my son telling me that he knew I was gay? "Uh, what do you mean?" "It's all right, Dad. David and I knew you were gay years ago. But we figured you were so uncomfortable about telling us that we wouldn't want to make it tougher on you. Hell, David and I used to fool around copying some of the things we saw on the tape you tried to hide!" I felt the heat rising from my face as an even deeper level of mortification came over me. My sons had even played around while watching my porn! How humiliating! Peter stood and crossed to the sofa, sitting down next to me and placing his hand on my shoulder. "It's all right Dad. David and I jut played around for a little while before he found girls and I figured out that I was more like you than he was." I snapped my eyes back to his and realized that there was something else in that statement. Was he coming out to me? "Peter...? "Yes, Dad," he whispered quietly. "I'm gay, just like you. In fact, I kinda saw you as my role model for the longest time, being open in the community but discreet with your family. And yet, you know, you never lied to us about anything. It just hurt a little knowing that we couldn't be involved in every part of your life." Then I noticed that his eyes had taken on a bit of a sheen and I could see the added moisture as he hinted at regrets. I grabbed his hand and grinned wildly at him, my secrets unveiled, my heart unburdened, my spirit able to share it's joy at last! "Oh Peter! I am so happy you told me!" I hugged him to me, wrapping my arms around his solid torso, his warmth crossing through his shirt to heat my chest. Peter buried his head in my shoulder and I could feel the wetness of his tears as they flowed, another form of release. I sat back and gazed into my son's eyes as he grinned at me, those perfect teeth gleaming in the dimmed light from the wall sconces. I placed my hand alongside his face and wiped the remaining tear from his cheek, the rough stubble further evidence that he had taken after his Mom's side of the family, dark and hairy Greeks, instead of my nordic blonde heritage. He closed his eyes and leaned into my hand, his face transforming into innocent beauty, as I caressed my son's face. His full lips pouting outward, their red fullness slightly open as he surrendered himself. I found myself having difficulty breathing as I realized the position we were in. Here we were, on my sofa, my son resting his face against my palm, his hand on my shoulder, squeezing slightly as I ran my thumb along his jaw line. I felt my cock becoming engorged as the emotions flowed from my heart directly to its base, filling it with heat. I didn't know what to do, my mind was racing with the possibilities, my heart aching with desire, yet the knowledge that this was my son distracting me from the experience. Peter must have sensed this turmoil as he opened his eyes, staring deeply into my emerald orbs, and whispered, "I have always loved you Dad. Make my dreams come true and take me, please?" The desire was amply evident in the husky tenor of his voice as he pleaded with me to make love to him. A sudden flare of heat and I realized that this was a dream I had held close to my heart as well. I leaned forward and kissed those lips, their luscious moisture sating a thirst I did not know I had. I gently began inserting my tongue, hesitant at first until he responded by twisting his around mine and teasing sensations from our oral embrace. He was a very good kisser and I realized that part of the sensation was the feel of his rough upper lip caressing mine with each movement that twined our tongues together. We kissed forever, our hands beginning subtle forays across undiscovered space as I touched the man who was my son as I had never though to before. Peter seemed to lead us forward as he caressed my chest, rubbing against my nipples, sending them into a state of erection that dented the fabric of my shirt. He slid his hand across the buttons, popping a single one, allowing him access to my lightly furred chest. Being blonde was never easy for me since I had always loved men with dark fur coating them, sprouting from teased nipples, and flowing over engorged cocks as I marveled at the being that was man. I felt deprived since my fur was light and soft, surrounding my pecs but invisible down to a downy bush of blonde that nestled at the base of my member. A moan escaped my lips as Peter circled my nipple, teasing ever greater heights from its arousal and twisting the fur around and around. He squeezed it slightly sending shivers through my body and allowing a drop of pre-cum to ooze from my throbbing member to pool inside my pants. Peter felt the shudder rip through me and while we were kissing, he grinned. We sat back, me with my eyes still closed, as he continued to massage my chest and torment my tits. He used his other hand to finish the job of opening my shirt to his attacks, revealing what I thought was a substandard chest. But my son seemed entranced by it as he continued to run his palms across my pecs. I was pleased that my work at the gym had been successful and he appreciated it as well, dropping his lips to my nipple and suckling like a little child. I felt a jolt of energy flow from one nipple to the other as he continued his assault, an occasional nibble adding to the pleasure. But he knew I was in some discomfort, my prick having twisted its way down the leg of my pants in self defense. He grabbed me under the pits and stood, dragging me with him til we both stood, eye to eye. I knew I was in danger then because my son had always had an evil glint to his expression that did not bode well for its target. He pulled the tail of my shirt from my pants and ran his hands across my belly and around my back, tingles accompanying his travels around my anatomy. He pulled me close, our lips locking together again as I felt a steel rod pressing against my hip and side. I knew he was feeling my own massive member against his thigh as it stretched my pants tightly. He dug his hands into my pants, his fingertips caressing the upper reaches of my ass cheeks, as we kissed in the living room. Peter slid his hands out of my pants and up to my shoulders where he slid the shirt off it's only support, dropping it to the floor. His hands roamed across my chest and belly, sending goose bumps throughout my torso and arms. Dropping his head back to my nipples, he licked them, nibbled at them, and turned them purple with his efforts. I threw back my head and moaned in ecstasy, the sensations burying themselves in my groin. But his hands did not remain idle as he snapped the clasp on my belt and popped the button on my pants, releasing the building pressure and causing them to drop to the floor in a puddle around my feet. Straining for release from its cotton prison, my meat rod stretched fabric sodden with the release of lubricant. Gently, almost afraid of the reaction he would get, Peter grasped my prick as he suckled at my chest. I swore that I would shoot right then but his efforts proved to reduce the intensity as he squeezed the sensations back into my balls where the lay, tingling in anticipation. He kneeled down to gaze in wonder at the member that had made him, its purple head visible through the soaked fabric. He licked at the cotton, his spit joining my juice in making my briefs transparent. He sucked at the juices embedded in the cotton and ran his teeth gently across the shaft as he tasted the honey that had formed his life. I could barely contain myself, the constant firing of nerves sending sparks across my vision. But yet again, my son showed he had some experience as he clamped the base of my meat to restrict the flow of neural energy and reduce the peak I was approaching. He wanted to have me and I was about to grant him that desire as he hooked his thumbs under the waistband and slowly lowered my briefs to my ankles. As he reached the full extension of my ten inch cock, it snapped back with a force that sent pearly cream spewing out against him and up against my belly. He grabbed my dick and licked the mushroom head, rewarding himself with the honey cream I was oozing with abandon. He slid himself down my cock, his tongue twirling around its thick shaft, until my curly hairs tickled his aquiline nose. He swallowed me to the base without choking, his tonsils throbbing against my cock head as he buried me inside his throat. Sliding back up, he teased more juice from its depths as he began sucking me in earnest. I knew it wasn't going to last much longer. Despite my age, he had drawn me forward into a sea of ecstasy that kept my lips tingling and sending shivers down my spine to bury themselves in my balls. I groaned in warning, whispering his name as I began shuddering, my legs twitching with repressed desire. He pulled back, teasing me with the precipice of release before sucking hard, burying my meat in his mouth and then pulling back, the suction forcing the ultimate in pleasure and pain. I shot my load into my son's eager mouth, the juices flowing in spurts from deep inside my balls to coat the back of his mouth before sliding deeper inside him. He swallowed every drop I gave him despite it having been some time since I had last cum and the added inducement of desire and his expert teasing. I fell back onto the sofa, my legs twitching in spasm, all my energy drained into his luscious lips. But he was not done with me yet! He bent forward to grasp my legs and stretch them back toward my chest, revealing my hairy bud, its own lips twitching in eager anticipation. He slid his tongue along the crack, drooling lubrication into the precipice and sliding inside my love chute to add moisture where it would be needed. But not much was really needed since my sweat and ass juice had joined to make it slippery enough. And so he stood, still clothed yet dripping sweat from darkened hair. He grinned at me and started a little strip tease. First he stretched himself, his arms rising above his lithe body, forming a soft ess curve from feet to fingers. Then he ran his hands down his arms to cross in front and come to rest at the hem of his polo shirt. He slowly slid the shirt up and over his head, revealing a gorgeously dark mat of fur across his chest and belly, flowing in a vee shape down from firm and erect nipples to the belt buckle that obscured the forest that I knew had to lie beneath. He ran his hands across his chest, flicking the nipples as I watched in anticipation. He pinched his nipples, sending a shiver across his firm abs and causing them to peak even more. While his left hand continued to massage those muscles, his right slid down to rest on his belt. He was quite dextrous, pulling back and unhooking the buckle before popping the button on his pants. He filled his pants more tightly though and he had to slide his other hand down to rest on his hips, grasping the pants and slowly sliding them down over muscular thighs built from playing soccer. The fur kept going as dense pockets flowed down those thighs to come to rest against his ankles with light trails continuing down to the tips of his toes. His cock was hidden in a black pair of boxers which he slowly slid down his thighs, bending over and following the pants. When he stood up, his meat stood out from a dense bush of coal black fur, rising at least nine inches toward my face. Peter was oozing his own juices and as I watched his cock twitched, sending a slow stream of cream down its length to slide between his balls. I leaned forward and buried his cock in my throat, swallowing the almond honey he was producing. I was feeding off the cream of my son! I slid my mouth up and down his member, it's velvet firmness fitting perfectly in my hungry orifice. Peter groaned deeply, his voice sending shivers along my spine and down his cock as I lubed him for the next step in our process of discovery. He knew that his youth would betray him though and so he slid his throbbing love sword from my hungry lips and reached beneath my knees to raise my twitching bud hole for smoother access. It had been some time since I had been fucked but Peter knew just how to make it work. He popped his head into the first ring, sending a pulse through my body, but then remained there, waiting for me to adjust to his size. He was thick, like me, but nicely formed and I knew that all nine of his inches would feel wonderful, especially pulsing against my prostate. When he knew I was ready, he slowly began sliding further into my love chute, his juices mingling with mine to form a sheen that eased entry. When his throbbing stiffy completed its forward movement and I felt the cock head bump against my prostate I knew I was in heaven. Peter groaned and began sliding out again, keeping the crown buried and then sliding inside me yet again. Each time he popped against my knob sending shivers through my groin. I felt myself getting hard again, something this old man hadn't been able to do for a long time, and gazed into my son's face. He was working ti like a trooper, his face contorting as he twisted inside me, showering my brain with sparks of sensation. He was pleasuring me, trying to tease me with everything he knew, and it was working! I grasped my cock with sweaty palms and began jacking off as my son fucked me, his power tool sliding along my rectum to land squarely against my lube knob. I was pouring our pre-cum as he began sweating in earnest. I laid one hand against his matted chest fur, the sweat smearing circles against his pecs. Then I saw the glow emanating from his eyes as he stared into mine, his love for his father obvious in his expression as he began breathing faster in anticipation of the final stroke. I joined him quickly, my fist flying across my shaft, cream oozing out in mute appreciation. I saw the climax a moment before it hit my son, his rod blasting shot after shot of man juice into my abused chute. I came with him, the first shot of jism jetting out and landing on his cheek followed by three more that draped themselves across his chest before pooling on my belly. He continued to slide in and out of me for several moments before he sighed and slid his member from my ass cheeks with a plop. I leaned forward and began cleaning his fur with my tongue, the salty taste of my cum mixing with his sweat to form an ambrosia I could not keep from tasting. As I finished cleaning him, he bent down to kiss me, out mouths wet with juices from both of us. He leaned forward and hugged me, his bristly fur tickling my sensitive nipples, his lips caressing my shoulders. "I love you, Dad. You mean so much to me and you've made me so very happy!" "I love you too, Peter. I can't believe we did this!" "That's all right, Dad. I've wanted this for so many years now. And to think it was David's wedding that brought this out!" I chuckled at my son's comment. "Yeah, but now I truly do know why they call you the `Best Man!'" Tell me what you think, I always appreciate feedback! Rob