Date: Mon, 12 Feb 2024 19:21:11 +0000 From: d.praved.mann Subject: Michael's Summer Visit -- Chapter 4 MICHAEL'S SUMMER VISIT - Chapter 3 by d.praved.mann@proton.me Please support Nifty. I do, every month! Support Nifty at this link: https://donate.nifty.org Nifty is a FREE repository of the best erotica available, so PLEASE do your part to help keep this site up! Thank you. Disclaimer again: Please don't do any of the things that these characters do with a little boy. Taking away a boy's innocence should ONLY be done in fantasy stories like this one. Just masturbate while you read this, and let that satisfy your urges to be with little boys. CHAPTER FOUR I WOKE UP THE NEXT MORNING, as one of the bread slices of a Chuck Sandwich. The boy was lying, asleep, between Michael and me; he looked completely content and comfortable--a stark contrast from his painful experience the night before. Sunlight streamed around the edges of the curtains on Mike's bedroom windows. Michael was still asleep, facing me, with the boy between us. One of Chuck's hands was on my son's erection--the dude was constantly hard; I'd give him a pass on this one though... who doesn't wake up with morning wood, right? Chuck's other hand was resting on one of Michael's large pectorals. I could have stared at this picture for the rest of my life. It was so serene, so fucking beautiful. The only thing that then made it better is when Michael's gorgeous eyes opened and he smiled at me. Fuck. "G'mornin'," I smiled. "`Mornin'," he smiled back. "Shit, Michael, you are a sight to wake up to... and with Chuck resting there in your big arms... fuck." He chuckled. "Well, you ain't so bad yourself, Dad. Seriously, I can't believe we can be like this now... I want to quit college and move in with you so we can love and kiss and fuck every single day and night." "You're not quitting school," I said sternly. He sighed, and the sight of his chest rising and falling was just one more reminder of how virile and powerful that guy was. "I know.... I'm just playing with you. But fuck, Dad. How am I supposed to just up and leave at the end of the summer?" "End of summer? I thought you were leaving at the end of next week... to be with Mom again." He shook his head. "Change of plans, dude. "I'm going to call her and let her know I'm staying here till I go back to school." "She'll be hurt," I said. "I'll send her flowers." I chuckled. "There's no way I'm leaving you... now that I know how we feel about each other," he continued. One of his hands took mine; he pulled it to his lips and kissed the back of it tenderly. Then he pulled some of my fingers between his succulent lips and kept them there. How we feel about each other.... Those words hit me harder than the affectionate nom nomming he was doing on my fingers. He was right, too. What I felt for my boy was something I couldn't really put into words. It was true love... of the deepest kind. I desired him like I'd never desired another human, ever. And I loved not only his physique of course, but I loved who he was. I lay there, gazing at him nibbling on me, and I envisioned a life together. When he was done getting his degree, maybe he'd move back in with me... and we could make our own Happily Ever After. Was that so wrong? Chuck stirred. His cute eyes fluttered open, and as soon as he realized where he was... between whom he was... a smile formed on his face. Michael pulled my fingers out. "Good morning, tiger," Michael smiled at him. Shit, if I was a little boy like that, and I woke up to what Chuck was waking up to, I'd think I died and went to heaven. "Good morning," Chuck said, pulling his hands off of Michael's various body parts and wiping his tired eyes. "How you feeling, bud?" Michael asked. "Fine." Then he reevaluated that answer and amended it with: "Your penis is too big for me. You made me cry last night. And it..." he wriggled and groaned... "and it still hurts." I had to push down a laugh. Damn, the kid was so cute. Michael chuckled, then turned serious quickly. "I'm sorry, dude. I really didn't want to hurt you." I knew that statement was 100 percent true, even though hearing Chuck's desperate cries while Michael fucked him certainly didn't detract from the experience for the adult members of this sandwich. "I know. But it did." He readjusted his little body between us, snuggling a bit closer to his hero. "Will it always hurt like that?" I wanted to melt into the bed. Another admission that sex with my son was going to happen. Again and again, I knew. "I promise that it'll get easier, every time. Promise," Michael encouraged. "Sometimes it might hurt more than other times, but the more I put it inside you, the easier it'll get." "Okay." He squirmed again. "But not today, okay? It--my bottom--needs to get better. It still hurts." I watched while Michael brought his lips to Chuck's forehead and kissed it. "Okay, little bud. We'll let you heal." Chuck--almost instinctively, it appeared--lifted his head and pushed his little lips against Michael's. I could see Michael press his tongue inside the boy's mouth, and they frenched each other for long minutes while I just got harder and harder. "WHAT TIME IS MOMMY AND DADDY getting home today?" Chuck asked between bites of waffle. Michael was definitely redeeming himself as a fantastic cook. He'd made breakfast into a BIG deal this morning. "Um, I think they said sometime this afternoon." I said. "Depends on when they get up and leave. I'll text him and find out for sure, later." Despite having a sore hole myself--Michael exceeded not only Chuck's capacity but my own as well--I can't remember ever feeling more horny... more attracted to someone... more carnal... more in need of physical contact with my son, than I did that morning. I took Chuck into the great room and sat him in front of the TV, hoping he'd be distracted with that device for the balance of the morning. Then I returned to the kitchen to watch my boy clean up the dishes while he wore that tiny g-string thing. It was like pornography squared, even though the dude was simply cleaning up. When he saw me standing there--with my hand on my crotch, no less--he grinned. "See something you like, Dad?" he teased. I nodded. He walked toward me. He flicked a dish towel at me and giggled. "What'cha gonna do about it?" "Damn Michael. You just blow me away." He wrapped those big arms--those weapons of mass erection--around me and proceeded to fuck my mouth with his tongue. When he eventually, breathlessly, pulled our mouths apart he said quietly, "Is little Chuckles gonna be occupied for the next couple of hours?" The scintillating glimmer in his eyes and grin on his face was so fucking hot... especially knowing that he was all turned on, for his dad. I nodded. "And my bedroom door has a lock." Michael released me. He fished some paper and a Sharpie out of a kitchen drawer, then wrote: "Do not disturb. We are having sex. We'll be out before lunch time." He grabbed some transparent tape. He cocked his head toward the hallway that led to the bedrooms. "Come on." He taped the sign to my bedroom door--at Chuck eye level, and I locked the door behind us. "Dad, I want you on your back this time," he said as we shed our clothes. "This has been my fantasy... to fuck you while I'm on top of you, and we get to look at each other... and fucking kiss and.... Fuck I can't even talk about it I'm so fucking turned on by you, Dad." He looked at me with eyes that basically just consumed me. Shit. I had never been looked at like that in my entire life... no matter who I was with. Other guys, boys... and certainly not Michael's mother. My boy wanted me so bad, and if that didn't make me want to curl up in his arms and just live there forever.... We pushed all the blankets off the bed. There'd just be the silky, creamy, white sheets below us... nothing covering us; I needed nothing hindering my view of this muscle hunk... my son... my new love. Before he mounted me though, there would be long, luxurious, languid kissing and touching. He seemed to instinctively know what I wanted--needed--to do with him. And he let me. He didn't just passively lay there while I felt out his stunning muscle body though. He ravaged my mouth with his, while my hands moved all over his hard physique. We lay on our sides, kissing and making out. I caressed his big cock up and down. He did mine too. It was hedonistic, sensual, and the pleasure I was receiving was like nothing I'd ever experienced. And I was doing it with Michael! He apparently got to the end of is foreplay rope: "Dad, I have to have you. Under me. I want you to watch my face while I push my big dick into your quivering ass... while I hold you down... while I show you who the real man is, in this house now...." Uhhhhhhhhhgggnnnn... How did this boy of mine know all of my fantasies?! Fuck, that's exactly what I've dreamt of fore years! To be dominated by him... to be forced to submit to my son's incomparable strength while he slowly enjoyed himself on me. He continued his salacious words.... "...while I fuck you with my big, thick, veiny cock... making my own dad tremble under my strength... under my power... while your hands touch muscles that came from your very own balls, Dad...." "Ohhhhhh," I moaned. His lips consumed my own with a passionate, out-of-control kiss. We pressed our crotches against the other. Then he effortlessly rolled us, and put his heavy body on top of mine. I looked up into his beautiful, brown, long-lashed eyes with wonder. "Dad... I love you so much. I want you to know that I've dreamed about this moment since I started masturbating. And now... now I get to have you." I couldn't speak. The feeling of our naked bodies pressed together like this, undulating against each other... his hips bucking slowly against me.... Fuck. He looked like he could hold off no longer. He reached for the lube on my bed stand, then pushed himself up on his haunches, dribbling the clear fluid onto his erection. "Not too much," I said. "I want to feel you... I want to feel you hurt me, Michael. I want to feel all of you. Shit, son, you said you've been looking forward to this for years... well, me too. Me... fucking... too... .Ever since you were little. And when you started to grow... in grade school and into middle school, and you were so skinny and cute.... It was all I could do to keep myself off you. You have no idea how much self-control I spent on you. And then when you started lifting weights in eighth grade, and you started getting really buff. Damn, I was the proudest, and horniest, dad in the world. You are so fucking gorgeous, Michael." Michael gave a big grin. "Damn, Dad. You have no idea how hot it is to know that." When you were in high school, and you'd come home from the gym, all sweaty and pumped, it was all I could do to not sneak into the bathroom with you. I jerked off to the fantasy of opening the shower curtain on you and slipping under the spray with you." "Really? Me too, Dad. I wish you would have," he grinned. "Well, to be honest, I almost did," I said. "And you gotta know that later, when you started posing for me, and then those times you actually jacked off in front of me.... Shit, son. You have to know... every time you did that, I practically ran into our bathroom and sprayed the mirror with jizz." Michael laughed. "Fuck. I was hoping you did!" "But well... back when you became the school's quarterback... fuck, Mike... I probably shouldn't tell you this, but I seriously fantasized about being your coach at school, and calling you into my office, and just... looking at you... giving you compliments... grooming you... for some coach-on-quarterback action...." I chuckled. "Weird, I know." Michael chuckled too. While I had been talking, he finished applying the lube and had laid back down, fully covering my body with his. "Not as weird as you think, Dad." He chuckled, and I could tell he was remembering something.... "Because... well... let's just say you and the coach thought alike." He winked at me and grinned while he rocked his hips and pressed his erection against mine. My eyes almost bugged out. "Serious? Are you shitting me?" "Not shitting you, Dad. Totally serious. Coach Smithers had it bad for me." His grin was almost toxic. "He insisted that I go into his office a couple times a week. He'd close the blinds on his office window and lock the door... so he could give me some `personal' training." "The fucker... he beat me to you," I chuckled. "Dad... a lot of dudes beat you to me." He peppered my face with soft kisses. "And I bet you love knowing that, don't you." "Fuck, Michael. Just... fuck." He was right. I loved hearing about his sexual experiences. But right now I was done talking. Even though this was the best, most enjoyable conversation I'd ever had... ever... it was time for... Michael. He apparently had come to the same conclusion. He kissed my mouth passionately--and again, the sensation of his chest expanding and contracting on top of me with his breaths consumed me with lust. He was so fucking powerful. And he loved me. I wondered about all the guys Michael had been with... how many dudes at his high school had jerked off to the quarterback, time and time again... how many guys he'd been on top of, looking up into his gorgeous-brown eyes like I was right now... how many guys there were who would kill to be in my position--under Michael... how many guys there were who would love to be Michael's best friend.... And now, I was. Without further words, Michael lifted his ass and used one hand to find my sphincter. I spread my legs as wide as I could, inviting my son to take me. I felt his cock head press against my hole; he let go of his cock and placed his forearms on the bed, outside of each of my ears. "Fuck Dad, I gotta get inside you; I don't think I can wait.... Being here on top of you... I can't stop myself." I felt the pressure of his enormous pole opening me up. "Ohhhhhhhhngngngnggn," I whimpered. I rolled my head to one side and stared at the mass of arm muscle that held him up. He rotated his hips and pushed against me more. GodDamn he was big. I thought last night's fuck would have prepared me for all future sex with him, but no.... I got the impression that this would never get old... never become regular or normal. It would always be the height of sexual gratification for me... feeling his endless tumescence move into me like this. I felt organ after organ move aside while he made his way in. He'd obviously dominated my outer body, and now he was commanding the insides... pushing himself wherever he wanted. He was making his presence known. All organs needed to move aside... to bow... to genuflect... to make room for the new man in town: Michael's cock. The veiny hardness pushed against my sphincter, and it felt like my hole was reading Braille for crying out loud. The ridges of his veins were that pronounced. But it wasn't those veins that made my eyes roll back and made my brain nearly go unconscious.... It was the girth. Fuck it hurt. So fucking good. His breath against my face was hot. He started inhaling and exhaling faster. So did I. He moved his organ in farther. He moaned the entire time, alternately kissing my mouth, my face, my eyes, my forehead. "Love... you... so... fucking... much, Dad." He was in to the hilt now. Had it been this big last night? This extremely huge inside me? And hard? God, he was huge. There should be an award for what my son possessed. He held it there... still... while he kept whispering things to me, and kissing me. His body clam-shelled around me, dominating me with its weight and hardness. He was in complete control of the situation... of me, his own father. He flexed his cock inside me... his tight, rigid cock.... Our eyes locked on each other, and I realized what he'd meant about wanting to look at me while he fucked me into submission. GodDamn I felt like putty under him. His gaze was so infused with carnal lust and longing... pure, base sexual desire. For me. We stared at each other, and his organ inside me shifted... only fractions of inches... slowly, deliberately, methodically... while he held me still with his eyes. I was like a cornered animal, and he was the lion who was going to enjoy every single aspect of totally consuming me. Shit, I was going to die of want. He started moving his abs--his insanely-defined, mounded abs--against my cock... up once, then down; then again.... I cannot describe what it felt like. I was getting not a blow job, not a hand job... I was getting an ab job. He was masturbating me by rubbing his rigid, rocklike abdominal muscles over my tender, weeping cock. I don't know how many times he pressed his abs up and down my trembling shaft--maybe ten times is all it took.... And each successive time was exponentially more erotic than the previous one. He locked eyes with me. He knew exactly what he was doing: He was going to get his dad to come, just by moving his hardened abdominal muscles against my erection. And every time he moved on me, inside my ass his pillar moved too. I was at the pinnacle of pleasure--of sensual gratification. My eyes wanted to roll into the back of my head. But I couldn't stop looking at his intense, sensual gaze. I was getting closer and closer with each pass of his torso over me. He just kept pressing his washboard over my beyond-excited penis. My body shuddered. I came. My dripping cock turned into a fire hose: I began gushing my milk between our torsos. I released a deluge of cum. It gushed out of my cock and drenched the space between us... my abs, his abs, my chest, his magnificent chest.... "Ohhhhhh, fuuuuuuuuck, Miiiiiiichael.... Michael... Mike... I love you... so... much... son!" My convulsing orgasm then tipped him over the edge. His physique hardened over me, and I felt the first blast detonate inside my body. My rectum bulged with his ejaculations; I felt like a balloon filling with breath after powerful breath... but this wasn't air. This was jizz. Semen. My own son's semen. He was filling his dad with his essence, and we both knew it. In a strange way, I suddenly realized--while he was having this sexual release, entirely, totally dominating me--that our relationship would forever be altered. No longer was I the mature adult here... the Alpha of the family. Michael had proven his superiority over my body, and moving forward he would always be the Alpha among us. This act... this sexual climax, was perfecting the relationship between us. We would forever have this unique thing... together. The teacher becomes the student. The father becomes the child. I gazed with submissive lust into his face, and i realize I would forever accede to whatever Michael needed. Michael wailed his orgasm into me. This climax lasted longer than last night's had, and it was apparent why: We were performing the ultimate act... consummating our love for each other... just the two of us. We'd be... forever. "Daaaaaaad," he moaned as he relaxed his body onto me. Thankfully I was big enough to take his weight--but I couldn't survive under him forever. "FFFFfffuuuuck, Dad," he panted. "I love you so much...." He peppered me with soft, slow, sensual kisses... on my forehead, eyes, cheeks, lips, neck.... "Damn, son. I love you too." Then, as if he understood that our roles were now somehow reversed--like I had just concluded--he lifted his head up, locked eyes with me, and said, "You are mine now, Kevin." He'd never used my first name in his life--never. I blinked, but he wouldn't let me look away. "I love you Kevin," he said, kissing me softly. "And I will take care of you now. You are my charge. My responsibility. But you also are mine. And you will love me... and obey me...." Shit. Thank god I knew Michael was who he was, or I might have been... intimidated. Well, okay... I was intimidated. How could any man not be? His erection didn't seem to go flaccid. And, in fact it didn't. How could a man be so fucking virile? We lay there, and he told me he was going to come again. And he did... more than once again... without even getting soft. I was totally his. A quiet knock on the bedroom door. "It says not to bother you till after lunch... but it's one o'clock now. I'm hungry," Chuck's impatient voice came from the hallway. Michael and I grinned at each other. "Okay, bud," Michael called out as his hardness popped out of me and thwapped against his abs. "We're coming." SINCE WE HADN'T REALLY done any planning for lunch, and since I was kinda jonesing to see what might happen, I called in another pizza order. And Michael was ready; he answered the door in all his muscular nakedness. Not a stitch of clothing on his award-winning physique. "Pizz..." Trent couldn't even get the whole word out when he saw Michael's completely naked body. Michael stood there in all his glory, wearing only a smile and a huge erection, which pointed up at the delivery kid. "Oh, hey," Michael grinned, "Glad to see you again, bud." He took the boxes and handed them to me. "Oh, can you step inside for a minute?" he asked Trent. "I'll get my dad to rustle up your money, and well," he looked up and down the block, "I'm kinda under-dressed to be out here like this." He looked down at his cock and then back at Trent's pale face. Trent, of course, mindlessly stepped inside the entryway. Michael closed the front door. I had plenty of money in my pocket, but I didn't immediately go for it. "So, Trent," Michael said, giving a polite I-always-ask-the-delivery-dudes-inside-the-house-while-I'm-naked-and-erect look, "are you in high school? Like, what year?" "Oh... uh...." Trent was gobsmacked that he was standing only a few feet in front of a muscle god like he'd never, ever seen or even imagined. "Uh... yeah. Jeffry Dahmer High School... I'm a... sopho... no... I'm a junior.... I think." Michael suppressed a chuckle, but I wasn't as effective in hiding my amusement. The boy's brain had been thoroughly fried. Still, Trent didn't register that I was even there. Michael looked down at his cock, which was basically pointing at the dude's face. "Damn, I was just having some fun on the couch with my dad and the neighbor boy. I was kinda thinking this thing would go down a bit when I answered the door, dude." Michael chuckled. "But fuck. I guess not. It must think you like it." The kid practically swallowed his tongue. "Oh... sorry. I don't... I don't... sorry... it's not that I...." He sighed and just added a soft, "Fuck." He looked at Michael's gorgeous, smiling face as if asking for help. Michael was indeed going to help. "Well my dad will get the money," he said. I was not moving to get the money. "But while he's doing that, is it alright if I take a look at your hands, man?" That seemed like an unusual request, but honestly, the guy was so fucking taken out of his sensibilities, he just raised them in front of his waist, palms up. Michael took them in his own big hands and examined them. "I just wanted to make sure you pizza guys don't get our food all germy." Then he lifted one of the dude's hands to his mouth and sucked a finger into it. Then another. Michael was sensual and oh-so suggestive in his expression, and the way he sucked the boy's fingers. The kid's eyes widened. He gave no resistance. It was obvious that he would be entirely compliant with whatever my son did with him. But sucking on the kid's fingers was only the beginning. Still holding the guy's other hand, he moved it until it came in contact with his prodigious, pre-cum dripping erection. He gave Trent's hand a good squeeze, indicating that the kid should keep it there. Then he let go of it. The boy didn't pull it off. It was as if I was completely invisible to the guy. There was only himself and his muscle idol. Michael tenderly sucked on the fingers for a moment longer, sensually locking eyes with Trent while the kid's hand remained on my son's dripping, over-large erection. Then Mike pulled the fingers out of his mouth. He moved that hand down so that now both of the boy's hands were on his throbbing shaft. The kid was frozen. He didn't move... anything. "What do you think, dude?" Michael asked innocently. "Go ahead, man." He nodded down to the guy's hands on his erection. Still, Trent was either petrified and/or frozen with lust. He couldn't move. "Go ahead," Michael encouraged again. "Don't be shy." It's kinda big and hard, isn't it...." Finally, the kid started moving his fingertips up and down it. The huge organ flexed under his touch. "You can feel my balls too, man." Trent got a little braver and began taking in the enormity, hardness, and gorgeousness of my son's entire genitals.... Mike's balls were given the attention they deserved, and his cock didn't lack for care either. "Fuck man," Michael said. He was obviously turned on by the hand job. "Fuuuuuck. You got nice hands, man." The kid started to touch it up and down, slowly. "Dude... yeah. Damn, you have a good touch. You want to see me come, right?" Trent just kept stroking, lightly and tenderly... with an open hand. "Niiiiice," Michael said; his tone was still commanding, but it was obvious he was getting more and more turned on. "Fuck, man. You're gonna make me come for sure." Trent grasped it more firmly and began squeezing it harder... up and down. Still in control of his body, Michael asked the boy, "You like big muscles, don't you...." Trent whimpered. Then Michael put his hand on the kid's crotch. "Wow, man. You are packing one big boner there!" Trent froze again; his hand movements stopped. Michael made quick work of the boy's zipper. Soon Trent's cock was waving all over the entryway. "Holy shit, dude!" Michael gasped. "You're almost as big as me!" To emphasize the point, Mike placed their erect cocks next to each other. Michael's was a bit longer and thicker, but my mouth dropped open when I saw how similar in size they were. The little dude was hung like no one I'd ever seen, except my own son. "Shit, dude," Michael grinned. Then he dribbled some of his own pre-cum onto Trent's cock. Without saying anything more, he started giving the kid a hand job. Soon the two of them were pleasuring each other. Groans filled the entry hall. It didn't take long for Trent to explode. His ejaculations squirted hard and his jizz landed all over my son's muscular, insanely-defined upper body. The kid moaned; his knees buckled. When Trent came, Michael soon followed suit. Michael began hosing down the kid's Pizza House shirt with his jizz. And of course, when Michael came... well, he CAME. He cursed loudly, while the boy just held tightly and finished jerking him off. Ropes of cum pumped up Michael's shaft... up through his urethra... into the air, with blast after hard blast. Most of it landed on Trent's shirt. Michael helped the boy aim it, so that some of it landed on Trent's face as well. Between the two of them, they'd produced a massive, messy amount of lust-semen. They were both obviously turned on by the other guy. "Fuuuuuck," Michael said as he came down. He smiled at Trent and said, "Best delivery dude in the county, man." He leaned forward and started licking his own jizz off the kid's face. "Gotta get you cleaned up before you go back to your store, man." He didn't, however, tend to any of the semen he'd coated onto the guy's uniform shirt. In fact, while he licked his own jizz off Trent's face, he pressed himself against the kid, transferring some of the boy's own semen from his chest and abs back onto the uniform shirt. "You'll have to take care of that yourself, dude," Michael smiled when he pulled away and examined the mess on the dark blue shirt. "I smell pizza," Chuck's cute voice interrupted the fun. Trent looked to the great room door and gasped. "Oh fuuuuuuuck," he hissed. He jerked away from Michael, and it was at that point I was treated to another view of the fully-hard erection. Shit, the kid was blessedly endowed! You'd think for a guy his size (kinda skinny and small) he wouldn't be anywhere near that huge. Yet sometimes its the skinny dudes who have the most gigantic cocks, you know. The kid panicked at seeing Chuck. It was then that he seemed to realize I was also standing there. He pivoted so fast he almost fell over. Once he gained his balance, he jerked open the front door and was outta-there. He hadn't even tucked his oversized cock back into his pants. And he didn't even wait for his money. "He had a really big peepee," Chuck commented after the door was closed. "As big as yours almost," he said to Michael. Michael, wide-eyed in agreement, grinned. "And he didn't even wait for his money. Guess we'll have to be ordering more pizza. In order to make sure he gets reimbursed for his trouble, of course." I pulled out my phone and called the pizza place. "Yes, your delivery guy... well, I think I might have given him the wrong amount... not quite enough... and I wanted to make sure he got a tip too. Can you let him know we'll be stopping by later to take care of that?" Michael grinned when I ended the call. "Yep, gonna be ordering a lot more pizza," I chuckled. IT WAS ALMOST FOUR NOW, and my phone buzzed with a text from Jason, Chuck's dad: "Should be there in 20 minutes. Something's come up. Shiela's sister is really sick. We'll come home and take Chuck. Shiela needs to pack clean clothes, then we'll head for the airport. She'll be flying to see Sis." "Everything okay?" I asked. "What can I do to help? We can keep Chuck here till you get home from the airport if you need." "No. Thanks. Shiela wants to see him before she has to leave again. TTYL." So Jason and Shiela arrived, then Chuck accompanied his parents to the airport to see Shiela off. At about five that evening, Michael and I were out on the deck, eating home-made tacos and enchiladas he had made. I was floating somewhere between here and Pluto, just enjoying the afterglow of being so intimate with my son, and watching his gorgeousness... interacting with him... enjoying his presence. We had, in a sense traded roles. He almost always called me Kevin now. And certainly when it came to our sexual relationship, Michael was dominant. Yet he still volunteered to cook and help with the chores. He hadn't suddenly turned into an asshole, that was for sure. Anyway, while we ate... and talked... and laughed... and sipped rosé... and well, while we each lusted after the other... we heard the gate to Jason's place click open, then closed. Michael had on some running shorts--they covered a lot more than his g-strings did, but his massive, rippling legs could not be covered very much. He was shirtless, as usual. "Hey, Kevin," Jason called. He was carrying Chuck in his arms. He had big arms, too. Jason was about 30 years old, and very handsome. He obviously spent time at the gym. He was nowhere near as ripped and big as Michael, but then who was, you know? Anyway, now knowing the kind of "entertainment" he enjoyed on his computer (thanks to Chuck's telling of what he'd seen), I'd figured out a bit more about the man. Chuck had later elaborated that the guys his dad liked to watch on his computer were indeed almost always really jacked and big. Jason liked muscle, and he wanted to be big--if only to attract muscle. "Hey, Jason," I said. "Hi Chuck. I see you're letting your dad carry you, dude." Jason started up the deck's steps. He set Chuck down when they reached the top. Then he saw Michael. He stopped short, obviously surprised. Then the blond man did a double-take. I couldn't blame him, and I knew Michael got those all the time. Jason's mouth practically dropped to the deck floor. Then he blurted: "Wow... holy fuck, Michael! You're jacked!" I knew exactly what Michael was thinking. Jason's admiration--awe, really--was evident on his face. And of course, there was a distinct element of arousal and lust going on there too. "Hey Mr. Upton, good to see you," my respectful son said. In reality, Jason was only about ten years older than Michael. It made for an interesting dynamic actually. I was 40; Jason was 30; my son was 20; Jason's son was nine or ten... I couldn't remember. (Oh, and yeah... Chuck Upton. I guess Jason and Shiela had a sense of humor.) So anyway, the Fathers were 20 years older than their sons, but Michael and I had a ten year start over Jason and Chuck. Anyhow.... Jason could barely peel his eyes off my boy. "Wow. Just... wow. Chuck was saying that you're really buff. But shit, man.... You're huge and ripped." Michael smiled politely. "Thanks. Yeah, been hittin' the weights hard." "Damn, dude. I mean, you were getting jacked before you left for college, but shit, man... what have you been doing, bench pressing railroad cars?" His eyes really were big, and the guy was practically fawning over my son. "Just... wow!" Jason finally tore his eyes off my son's body and looked at me. He got serious. "Kevin... I wanted to... well..." he patted the top of his son's head. "Little Chuck here was walking kind of funny, and... well his mom didn't notice it, but I did. So I asked him about it, but he didn't want to discuss it." "Oh?" I would have been a bit alarmed, but I had the Ace card in my pocket, of course. "Yeah... did he get hurt while he was here?" ------- You don't really think I'd end this now, do you? Thanks for your support. I may not be able to answer all emails, but I DO so much love hearing how my stories affect you. :) d.praved.mann@proton.me