Date: Thu, 3 Jan 2013 19:20:29 +0000 From: Ivor Sukwell Subject: My Son the Rent Boy My Son, the Rent Boy My wife persuaded me to go to watch Will play. I didn't usually go because fourteen year old boys do get embarrassed if their fathers are on the touchline and that's quite understandable. They have to restrain their language and be on their best behaviour – no tackles from behind, no diving in the penalty box, and elbows down when going up for a header, nothing at all like their heroes in the Premier League. This time I did go because he was playing for the County Under Fourteens, my wife nagged me into it; she'd been nagging me to have more to do with Will for months now, and, of course, there would be twenty one other fourteen year old boys playing as well and one or two of them might be worth looking at. With the knee length shorts they wear these days there wasn't really very much to look at; no more than four who were worth more than a single glance and that had to be reduced to three because one of the four was Will. Will's a well-built lad, standing five foot eight and that's all I can say about him – the last time I saw him unclothed was when he was eight and even on holiday at the beach he wears those awful, long swim shorts that barely even reveal his knees. He's a good lad, no more trouble than any other reasonably together adolescent. Of course he has his moments, any teenage boy does, but he doesn't smoke or do drugs and he does not get into trouble at school. He's also pretty good at football, so I've no complaints about him. He's just a perfectly normal, decent-looking, healthy teenager. He played pretty well and a couple of the guys sitting around in the sparsely populated stand scribbled notes from time to time when he'd done something decent. I guessed they were scouts from some of the real clubs – after all, this was a county level game and clubs are always on the look-out for any talent their systems may have missed out on. I have to say, though, that the only thing I really noticed about him was the rather snazzy boots he was wearing. Several of the top Premiership players have fancy coloured items, blue, red, even gold; nothing at all like the plain black boots we wore when I played football and..........nothing like the plain black ones that Will had! These were red with a white flash and though no more efficient as football boots than ordinary black ones, even I knew they came with a considerable price tag, a price tag I would never consider paying and Will could certainly not afford. I left the moment the final whistle blew, along with most of the other fifty or so people who had been watching. Some who were left were obviously family, parents combined with siblings and the occasional male I assumed was a lone father sent, like I had been, on son duty. I didn't hang around because Will had no idea that I was there and he would have, as boys do, made his own arrangements for what to do after the game – he'd informed his mother that he'd be home about six, a good three hours after the game finished. "Good game, son," I said casually as we munched our way through pie and chips an hour or so after he'd returned home. "Did think you should have scored with that header, though." "You were there?" he asked, his voice slightly squeaky, a forkful of chips poised half-way to his mouth. "Yeh; your mother thought I should at least go and watch you play in a representative game. Left as soon as it ended, guessing you had things arranged." I noticed the look he gave me, a look that was mostly questioning but with a hint of something else, almost as though he had something to hide. Was it, perhaps, something to do with those red boots? "You went up for it too soon," I said, not wanting him to know I had seen the `something' in his look, "So you were always under it and always going to head it over." "I know," he agreed; "The guy behind me was so close I had to jump early or he would have beaten me to it. He was a fair bit bigger than me, in case you didn't notice." "I noticed," I casually stabbed a bit of pie, "What you should have done was stay still, ready to jump but not actually going up. Always a chance he would have gone up too soon and over the top of you. Might even have got a penalty out of it instead of a harmless goal kick." "What the coach said," Will agreed and whatever it was that had been lurking in his eyes had gone now, "Said I should even have moved back a bit to tempt him into it." "Well, you'll know for next time," I speared more pie. I really wanted to talk about those red boots, but not now, not with his mother around. My enquiry might be casual, she would interrogate him. On Monday I searched his room. She who must be obeyed and had been making it very clear that if I was home she would be out, had gone shopping, Will was at school and on Mondays I worked from home. Those red boots nagged at my curiosity and a little internet search had given me the price – one hundred and thirty five pounds! How the hell had Will got that much money to buy them? Being the sort of person I am, the first place I searched was Will's bed, his sheet to be more specific. Washing was done on Tuesdays so Will's sheets had been on his bed for a week and, being as he was fourteen, there should be some normal evidence of his adolescence on his sheets. Yes, I know, most of his spunk would go onto something less obvious than his bed sheet; all boys kept something handy as a cum rag, something a mother would not find and wash, but, as I remembered from my own youth, a woken-up-in-the-middle-of-the-night wank mostly finished up on the sheet. Either Will never woke in the middle of the night or he was a very careful boy because his bed sheet was cum-stain free and that got me thinking even more. I did find a handkerchief under his pillow that was reasonably crusty, but no-where near as crusty as I felt it should be for a boy of fourteen. Perhaps he was going through an `I mustn't wank too much' phase; I'd done that a time or two at around his age, though in my case that had meant reducing a normal four or five to just one or two a day. Will's cum rag seemed to indicate something more like one or two a week, no-where near enough for a proper fourteen year old. Perhaps the little sod had a wank-mate at school? Well, good luck to him if he did. I'd learned at thirteen that wanking was so much better when done by someone else so I certainly was not going to condemn him for finding out the same thing. I know that it was a bit bad of me to search my son's room but those red boots nagged at me and, once I was in there, my natural curiosity took over and I couldn't resist the urge to find out as much as I could about his masturbatory activities. What I found was little more than nothing; no wank mags hidden away, no evidence of porn on his computer, nothing at all to indicate that that barely used cum rag told anything other than the complete truth. Except that I did not believe it. There was something that did not ring true; it was all too perfect. A teenage boy's room should have at least a decent hint of cum in the air, but Will's room hardly even sniffed of dirty socks and underwear let alone spunk. The more I thought about it the more convinced I became that there was something I should know about, something I needed to know about, but I didn't have the faintest idea what it was..........apart from that it had something to do with those football boots. Although Will's room was as messy as you would expect a teenage boy's room to be, it just wasn't the right sort of mess and the more I thought about it the more certain I became that Will was up to something he really did not want parents to know about. Over the next few days I watched him carefully, much more carefully than I had ever watched him before. I noted his comings and goings – nothing too unusual there. On Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursdays he was always late home from school, getting in at around six. But nothing suspicious there – that had been a regular pattern for some time. On Mondays and Wednesdays he had football training and on Thursdays he did extra gym work, strength training apparently and certainly nothing I thought worth questioning. Once home he spent a hour or so in his room doing his homework, occasionally this took a bit longer and often, when he'd finished, he'd play on his Xbox unless there was football on the telly and then he was downstairs seconds before kick-off. Fridays were his evenings out, off with his mates, frequently not getting home until ten, but never later as he almost always had a game on the Saturday and he wasn't going to compromise his performances by being tired. I sniffed for any signs of alcohol or tobacco, but nothing. Once or twice I thought I caught a hint of something I vaguely remembered from my own teenage years, but the aroma of cannabis was never enough to cause me major concern and his eyes betrayed no signs that he was smoking it. I'd just about given up trying to fathom it all out when the absence of his mother for yet another weekend gave me a chance for a last try. He came home, as he usually did on a Friday, just before ten. I thought I heard a car pull up and a door shut a few seconds before he had his key in the door, but made no connection with Will; cars come and go all the time in suburban streets. Before he could head off to his room I said there was something I wanted to talk to him about and, as he didn't have a morning kick-off the following day he had no excuse about having to get to bed early. For some reason he looked guilty and nervous and I remembered that hint of something in his eyes weeks ago when he found I'd been to see him play. I went straight in, hoping that, if he was indeed feeling guilty about something, I might get it out of him before he had his defences mustered. "Think there's something you need to talk with me about, Will," I began, implying that I already knew what it was. Whatever an innocent reaction may have been it was certainly not blood draining from the face! "Best if you tell me all about it, Will. While your mother's not here. Not something she'd want to know about; not something she need ever know about." Will looked horror-struck and devastated; his face white as the proverbial sheet, his legs hinting that holding him upright was a serious effort. I half-expected him to flee for the safety of his room, but he stayed, clutching the arm of the sofa for support. "How did you find out?" he croaked, confirming that there was, indeed, something we should be talking about. "Sit down, Will," I said nicely, "This isn't a shouting bollocking, this is something we need to work out, isn't it. You and me, just you and me." He did sit, sat and stared at the carpet obviously trying to get his head round things, look for some way out perhaps and eventually deciding there wasn't one. "What you gonna do about it?" he eventually asked, his voice flat. "Depends on how much you tell me, Will; how much you trust me." Since I didn't have the faintest idea what it was he was worried about me doing something about I couldn't give him a better answer than that. "I can't tell you, can I?" he almost begged. "You can," I said softly. "Why not start with the football boots?" That, of course was a complete stab in the dark, but it seemed a logical one. "I'd begun to hope you hadn't noticed," he whispered, "You never said anything." "No. I didn't," I agreed, "Would you rather I had done?" "No," the word came out fast, without thought, instinctive adolescent denial. "Don't know," softer, slower, more thoughtful. "I'd have freaked out, I guess, especially if Mum had been around." "Never have done that to you," I said quietly. "No," Will agreed, looking at me carefully, "Thanks for that, Dad." "So you gonna tell me?" "What, that I let men have my cock for cash? You obviously know that already." I didn't! I'd worked things out somewhat differently. I'd assumed Will had found a sugar daddy, someone who was happy to give him an expensive present in return for the sort of favours that only a boy can give and I had no problems with that. But Will was now saying something very different, that he was selling himself and not to just one buyer. Did I have a problem with that? My initial reaction was one of shock, of how could my son have got into something like that, but I couldn't do a knee-jerk reaction of shock and horror. That would ruin things between us forever. I had to show understanding at least and, as I started thinking like that, I realised how easy it was to show that understanding. I had paid for boys, given boys money in exchange for enjoying their bodies; I'd even told more than one of them that I had no problems with a boy selling his delights while he still had them. Why should I feel anything different because the boy happened to be my son? "Are you ashamed of that, Will?" I asked playing a little for time as I tried to work out how to deal with this revelation. "Should I be?" he was a shade truculent, the adolescent challenging adult conceptions. "That's for you to decide," I shrugged and tried a moment of lightness, "It's your cock, after all." "Yeh, it is!" A half snarl there, defying me, challenging me to object. "And I'm not going to even try to tell you what you should or should not do with it, so no need to get aggressive." I let the words hang, no follow up; just left it to him to decide how to proceed with what was, obviously, a far from easy and even further from desirable, situation. "Sorry, Dad," he half-whispered eventually. "Don't be," I gave him a very small smile, "You're doing brilliantly. I expected you to be howling obscenities and hiding in your room by now." "Thought about it," he confessed with an equally small smile, "Wouldn't do me no good, though, would it." "I do want to understand, though," I moved things back to the main point of this confrontation. "I'm guessing that you are, shall we say, `working', the afternoons you're back late from school and on Friday evenings as well. I heard you getting dropped off just now and I know Jake's dad didn't give you a lift home from a street away." "Told the stupid cunt to drop me at the end of the road," Will muttered, "But he just drove right up to the door." "Should have given him a false address," I shrugged and Will looked at me with amazement in his eyes. "You really ain't gonna lay into me, are you," he said, starting to understand that his worst fears were not as bad as he thought they were going to be. "No. And I'm not going to let your mother have even the remotest indication of this conversation. This is between us and us alone." "Thanks, Dad," Will breathed. "I thought you'd kill me if you ever found out." "No chance," I actually did smile this time. "So you going to tell me all about it?" "What's there to tell?" he asked. "How you find, what shall we call them, punters?" "On the net, of course." His tone carried all the teenage exasperation at adult stupidity that a fourteen year old can convey. "Why not come and show me?" I heaved myself out of my chair, "The more I know the less I'm going to worry." "You serious?" Will almost squeaked that. "Oh, yes," I grinned, "Very." And I was – Will knew things I did not and I wanted to know what he knew! "How long it been going on?" I enquired as, in his room, Will booted up his computer. "Three months or so," Will shrugged, "Since just after me birthday." To my surprise Will pulled up a well-known gay web-site, I'd been expecting something far less obvious. "Don't you have to be eighteen to join that?" I asked, but my potential give-away of knowing things Will would not expect me to know about went un-spotted as he shrugged, slightly pityingly, and said, "And how are they expected to know you're not unless you actually tell them?" I watched him sign in as "Tota£ S£ut 14" and asked if the "14" didn't raise questions. "Nah," he shrugged, "Peeps uses numbers all the time. They don't have to mean what they seem to mean." "But yours does." "Yeh," he grinned "An' using the "£" instead of an "l" is pretty cool, I reckon. Makes it pretty clear what I'm after." He brought up his profile for me to look at; he described himself as a "Young lad looking for generous guys" and, I spotted he listed his cock as "Above average uncut". "Bit boastful," I smiled, pointing to his cock description. "Dream on," Will snorted, "I'm a well-built boy!" "That's what they all say," I grinned, feeling pleased that Will was relaxed enough to be able to boast about his cock. "In my case it's true," he asserted. "And, no doubt, you have the pics somewhere to prove it," I threw casually away. "Too right I do, but I don't show those unless I got someone interested." "And I am not interested," I lied. Will snorted, but whether that was disbelief or in agreement that he would not expect his parent to be interested in his cock size, I wasn't sure. "I go in a chat room," Will told me, "An' if I get any bites we go to `pm'. My expression must have conveyed the question because Will answered it without being asked. "Private messages," he said, "Can't be read by anyone else." "Go on now, then," I suggested, "Let's see what comes up." Will gave me a somewhat strange look, but did as I asked and within moments he had a request for a chat. "Answer it," I told him, "I want to see what happens." Another strange look, but Will answered a `Hi' with a `Hi' of his own. "I can be generous for the right boy," his message screen read, and Will typed back, "I'm not actually 18." "How old?" "How old would you like me to be?" Will answered. "Not into role play." "Nor me," Will typed "But some guys don't like their boys young." "I do." "14" "Serious?" "Very." "I'm 54. That OK?" "As long as you pay." "How much?" "What you after?" "What you offering?" "Whatever you pay for." "Fuck?" Will looked at me, his whipped puppy eyes pleading; confessing to your father that you sell your cock a mere nothing to confessing you sell your arse as well. "Answer, Will," I said softly, "True answer." "If you're paying," Will sent. "How much?" came back instantly. Will's eyes begged me again, but again I ignored his plea. "What you normally ask, Will?" I said. "Fifty for that," Will whispered. I leaned across him and typed "200". "Dad!" Will squeaked as I hit `send'. "Bit much," came back after a few seconds. "When you last fuck a 14?" I typed and sent. There was a break in communications while the punter obviously thought about things and Will stared at the floor, then the screen read; "OK. Tonite?" "Can't do tonight," I sent back, "What about tomorrow?" "Can't tomorrow. Wife's home." "My place is free," I sent, "Mother's away and dad won't be around." Will just stared at me as the realisation that I was, in effect, pimping him, dawned in his dazed mind. "OK," the screen read as I thought it would. "Where I meet you?" "Tell him to meet you at the end of the road," I told Will, "And get him to text you when he arrives. I need a drink. You want something?" I added as an afterthought. "I could use something strong," Will breathed fervently, "Wouldn't let me have a vodka and coke would you?" "Coming up," I smiled at him, "Can't really go along with you selling your arse and refuse to let you have a bit of vodka, can I!" "Selling it for me, more like!" "And that," I agreed and went down to fix some drinks while Will finalised his arrangements. "First lesson, Will," I said when I got back with his vodka and my whisky, "Never under-charge. You are prime market flesh at the moment, but by the time you're sixteen, unless you stay well smooth, your appeal is going to have dropped." "Dad?" Will asked, trying to get his head around events. "We'll continue this in my study," I said, having made that decision along with the drinks. Once there, I turned on my big Mac, selected a particular folder and set it to play. There was about six hours of teen boy porn in that folder, more than enough for the rest of the evening, especially as Will would need to go to bed fairly soon as he had a game tomorrow afternoon. Will stared, wide-eyed at boys of thirteen, fourteen, fifteen and sixteen kissing, wanking, sucking and fucking in a whole series of positions and combinations. "Dad," he finally whispered, "Are you into boys as well?" "Not into them anywhere near as often as I'd like to be," I grinned, "But, yes, I do like boys." Will stared, stared and stared. At me, at the screen and at me again and then his face broke into a huge grin. "Fuckin' hell, Dad, that is so fuckin' brill! No wonder you never went ape at me." Then another thought struck him. "Does that mean.............you know........you'll......want.......want to do it with me?" he finally got out. "If you weren't my son, Will, you'd be naked on the bed now with your legs over your shoulders and my cock deep inside you. Make no mistake about that. But, while I have no problems with incest, I think it's a bit late for us to start that. If I'd played around with you when you were little, it'd probably be a very different matter." Will looked relieved, but did manage to say that if I wanted him he'd be alright with it. "Lovely offer, Will," I gave him a cuddle, "But not right for us, is it. Of course, if you happen to know someone....." I let the words hang, and Will, bless him, picked them up. "Jacob probably would, though, like me, he prefers boys." "Jacob rent as well?" I enquired. "Yeh, that's how I got into it. We shag, as you probably guessed." I hadn't, but I was glad that they did. "Shane would. He likes men. If you'd be alright with a blond fifteen, that is." Would I be alright with a blond fifteen? Does the sun rise in the mornings? "Bring him round," I smiled, "And you can bring Jacob round for fun any time you want. Once you're in your room you will not be disturbed." "You mean that, Dad?" "Course I do. And your clients as well. Better you earn here where you won't be in any danger." "What about Mum?" "Don't think she'll be here very much longer, do you?" "No, I don't think she will. That upset you, Dad?" "Not if Shane's any good, it won't!" "Oh, he's good alright," Will grinned, "Don't think you'll have any complaints there." "Tried him, have you Will?" I asked, all mock-innocent. "Dad!" Will protested, "Some things are private!" "You mean it's okay to tell me you earn money with your body, but not alright to tell me what boys you sleep with?" "I've never slept with him," Will actually managed to smile, "But, yes, I guess I do know for a fact he's a lot of fun." "Glad to hear it," I surprised him by saying, "But I trust you have slept with Jake when you stay round there." "Yeh, when I actually do stay round there," Will grinned again, but with a blush this time. "Good lad," I said, choosing to ignore that he'd just, in effect, told me he sometimes slept with customers. "So you like cock, do you? Exclusively, or as a sideline to cunt?" "Exclusively," Will admitted and when I didn't say anything to suggest he was wrong in this opinion, he opened up a little more. "I love cock, dad. Boy cock really; Jake an' I are both into boys. We only go with men because they pay." "And Shane?" "Shane prefers men. He does do stuff with boys as well, but he prefers men. Real bonus for him that he gets cash for doin' what he likes." "Well, I'll book him for a night if he can get one free. And I'll pay him, of course." "You won't have to pay, dad," Will protested, "That wouldn't be right; not after....." "Of course it's right," I interrupted him. "If Shane spends a night with me, that's a night he could have been earning, so of course I'll pay him." "Well," Will conceded, "Won't cost you two hundred." I let Will go off to bed – I guess he had quite a bit to think about and I had a shrewd guess that texts would be flying backwards and forwards between him and Jake, possibly even Shane as well. For my part, well, I had Shane to think about. Shane, and some way of hastening Will's mother's inevitable departure from our lives. Saturday night with Shane confirmed that necessity. Shane was, as Will had promised, fifteen, fair-haired and delicious. He arrived half an hour after I had relieved Will's client of his two hundred quid and my son had taken the somewhat surprised guy up to his room. "Two hundred buys you as long as it takes," I told the guy. "I'd take my time if I was you." Shane didn't seem the least bit shy or embarrassed that he was to spend the night in bed with the father of one of his mates, but, considering that many of his clients would be married men with families, there was a fair chance that other boys in his school had a parent who had availed himself of Shane's delights. "Hi, Mr. Evans," he greeted me cheerfully and politely when I answered the door to his ring and, once inside and in the lounge, grinned, slightly wickedly, over his vodka and coke. "Never thought I'd have Will's dad as a customer. Fuckin' ace!" "I didn't think I had a working son with such a gorgeous and accommodating friend," I smiled back, "Until yesterday." "Wicked, ain't it," Shane agreed. "Where you want to do me?" "The sooner we go to bed the longer we can spend there," I grinned at him, loving the openness with which he presented himself. "Be there till breakfast," Shane sniggered, "I ain't got nothing else on tonight." "You got far too much on if you ask me," I ventured, blatantly perving his fully clothed body. "Hehehe," he sniggered again, "Not one for wasting time are you." "Boy starved," I shrugged. "Best see what I can do about that," the fifteen year old blond delight said with a cock-hardening smile, and promptly started shedding his clothing. I didn't even think about stopping him, just about not actually dribbling when his outer layers came off, followed by his shirt, and jeans, leaving him in tight, white mesh briefs that left just about nothing to the imagination, and it needed absolutely no imagination to see he was already hard and certainly not undergrown in the cock department. "These as well?" he asked, "Or you want to do that bit for me?" I beckoned him over to where I was sitting and ran my hands over his full thighs, delighted to find they were as smooth as they looked. "Lovely legs," I told him and eased his see through briefs out and over his cock and down his thighs, leaving him to step out of them as they puddled around his feet. "And beautiful cock." Beautiful it was; a good six inches of fairly slender, well-foreskinned boy delight rising proudly from a well- trimmed and shaped bush of golden hair. "Thanks, Mr. Evans," he smiled at me. I cupped his ample balls and they were as smooth as his thighs and he answered my question before I asked it. "Legs are natural, but I do shave me cock and balls and under me arms. Most men like it like that. Oh, an' me crack as well, of course. Only really weird guys want to eat a hairy arse." "I certainly don't!" I agreed fervently, "But I'll make a major meal out of a smooth one." "Great," Shane beamed, "I love havin' me hole munched. Well, to be honest, I love everything." Suddenly he did look slightly embarrassed; "Will said it's okay to say it how it is," he explained, "I don't usually say this sort of stuff to guys; more let them find out for themselves." "No, that's fine, Shane. I like it. Refreshing in a way. No pissing about. I want your flesh and you keep it in perfect condition to be enjoyed." "Oh, wow," Shane grinned, "Will said you were well cool. I'm really gonna enjoy givin' you what you want." I don't know if Shane did enjoy it, or if he was just very good at his job, but enjoy him I certainly did! We sucked and fucked, kissed and cuddled from half past seven until well gone one in the morning before hardness was no longer a real possibility for either of us. I swallowed his spunk, he swallowed mine. I ate his arse and I nibbled his nipples then ate his arse again. I fucked him deep and hard, he did the same for me and I drifted off to exhausted sleep and dreamt of his slender six inches inside me. I woke, still tired, to Shane's cheerful whisper of, "You want one more mouthful before breakfast?" I did. Will's client had left sometime during the early hours and two sex-satisfied boys and one sex-exhausted parent sat down to eggs, bacon, sausages and beans. "What you think, then dad?" Will asked me, nodding towards Shane who was devouring his breakfast with as much enthusiasm as he had devoured my prick. "I think you have some amazing friends," I smiled, producing a wonderful beam from Will. "An' your dad's brill in bed," Shane warmed my heart by saying with a huge smile, the sort of smile that makes a man want to tear a boy's clothes off – except that, in this instance, the boy wasn't wearing anything to tear off. "What was yours like?" he asked Will, who shrugged and said, "He paid." Will, no doubt because his parent was sitting at the table with him, was wearing something, just his boxers in fact, but they were enough to hide his essentials; "I just thought of Jake when he did me; Jake an' the two hundred you got for me, dad," he too gave me a heart-warming smile. "You intending to continue in this line of work?" I asked him as I poured another coffee. "At those rates you just got to," Shane grinned, "You fancy bein' my manager as well, Mr. Evans?" he asked. I'd given Shane the fifty he'd asked for and another fifty as a bonus for a job extremely well done and was of the opinion that the boy was seriously undercharging for his services. "Happy to help, Shane," I agreed, "Commission basis, of course." "How much?" Shane asked. "I'll take my cut in flesh," I grinned at him, "If that's okay with you." "Just don't know how fucking lucky you are," Shane told Will, "My old man'd kill me if he knew." "Thought mine would as well," Will confessed. "Yeh," Shane smirked, "But your's likes a bit of boy; don't think mine'd go for it." "I didn't know he did, did I!" Will protested, "Not till he outed me. Wish I'd known a lot earlier!" "And what difference would that have made, Will?" I asked between slurps of coffee. The look I got in reply told me there was more talking to do with young Will! "Getting back to you carrying on working," I said, because that was safer than following up on Will's look, "One fuck a week, which is probably no more than you're getting at the moment, and a few bj's thrown in, should bring you in around a thousand a month." I was surprised how easily I'd slipped into pimping for my son, but if he was going to sell himself, he might as well do it properly. "Fuck me!" Shane drew in breath in a loud suck, "To think I used to do it for free!" "You could have around twenty grand stacked away by the time you're legal if you play it right and don't waste it." "Dad, you serious?" Will asked. Both boys had been looking at me with their mouths open for several seconds before Will managed to say that. "Absolutely. Once your mother's gone you can work every evening if you want to. Shane as well, if he wants to. We do have three bedrooms, after all." "I don't really like men fucking me," Will said, thinking things over, "Much prefer boys." "He means Jake," Shane grinned. "But that's serious money," Will finished and shot Shane an evil look. "And I do like men fucking me," Shane grinned, ignoring Will's look, "I'd be happy with three or four a week. Seven at two hundred a time!" I took Shane up on his offer of a mouthful for the road, a mouthful taken there and then in the kitchen with Will looking on. "Dad," Will asked tentatively when Shane had finally got clothes on and left, "You sure you don't....well.....fancy me?" "Of course I fancy you," I told him, "So you better keep yourself safely covered up or I just might do something about it." She who Will and I no longer even pretended to obey sprang her far from surprising surprise not long after, announcing that as Will and I now got along well – she had absolutely no idea of the real reason why – there was nothing to stop her from doing what she had wanted to do for years and depart from my life; Will's as well, because she was not taking him with her when she left. We both pretended shock and horror; Will, bless him, even managed a few tears and a wonderful tantrum about what an uncaring mother she was in order to hasten her departure, and then organised a celebration evening for the coming Saturday. A simple little `at home' evening with Jake and Shane to keep us company. Shane was for me, of course; Will would have his hands and mouth and probably something else, full with Jake. I said I would provide the refreshments – we couldn't possibly have a proper celebratory `at home' without getting properly pissed – and Will wondered if I'd mind if the boys did things properly in a teenage way. "Did you ever get high when you were our age, dad?" he asked, a little hesitantly. "You want weed as well as booze, then," I grinned. "Dad," Will urged, "Doing stuff when you're stoned is really something else. Can we? Please?" "Will," I patted him on the shoulder, "I'm going along with you selling your arse; can't really object to you getting stoned at a party, can I?" Will, bless him, smiled really sweetly; "More than going along with it, Dad; you're arranging it and making sure I get the best price!" "Your choice, Will," I said, being serious for once, "I'd much rather you just slept with Jake." "I can now, can't I," Will thought out loud, "You're not going to mind him sleeping over whenever he can, are you?" "Every night if he can get away with it," I smiled at my son and patted him on the shoulder again, "As long as you don't mind Shane being here whenever I've got a few spare quid." "I think Shane wants to talk to you about that," Will said, his eyes twinkling, "But, being straight, Dad, I really don't like men fucking me; it'd be alright, wouldn't it, if I stopped doing that?" "Make me very happy if you did," I said, "I'm not that keen on it either. My only concern was that if you did it you should get as much from it as you possibly could." "Some men are okay," Will told me, "Sounds a bit kinky, but I really don't mind the older ones; guys who really like boys but are past being able to pull them for free. They mostly don't actually really want to fuck, they like kissing and cuddling and sucking and stuff, trying to make me feel good, make sure I enjoy it, if you know what I mean." "Old men like me, you mean," I said with a grin, but Will took that as being serious. "No, much older than you! You could easily still pull, ask Shane!" I gave Will a questioning look and got a wide smile in reply, followed by, "Wait till tonight, dad; told you Shane wants a chat." I got no more out of him about Shane, but did look forward to finding out exactly what he meant from the fair-haired lad himself. The celebration was a great success with Shane and I on one sofa, Will and his teenage lover, Jake, on the other. A couple of drinks and a smoke or two relaxed us all very efficiently and it wasn't long before the cuddling and kissing started. Will had already seen me sucking Shane and urged things on when he saw me get an arm round his shoulder. "Go for it, dad," he encouraged, "Shane's gagging for you to get started." "What about you and Jake," I said in reply, "Don't see many signs of action there." "This good enough?" Will grinned, actually it was more like a giggle as the weed kicked in, and he was still giggling when he plonked a hand on Jake's crutch, barely seconds before Jake pulled him in tight and glued their mouths together. I could see what Will liked about Jake; he was one of those tall, slender teens who just oozed boyness; dark-haired and far from ugly - I'd have been interested in sharing if I didn't have an arm round a fair-haired, rather attractive fifteen who obviously liked an arm round him and thought the best use for one of his hands was to start undoing my jeans. The snogging and fondling took all our attention for the next hour or so but though all of us had hands inside each other's underwear no clothes had been shed yet; we were waiting till after the pizzas had been delivered before getting serious. "Told dad about me being a bit kinky for granddads," Will mentioned between bits of double pepperoni." "I don't mind them, either," Jake agreed, "They make you feel sorta special." "I just like men," Shane grinned, "Specially men who's dad to a mate." "We know you got a thing for Will's old man," Jake giggled, "Just like I got a thing for Will." This produced guffaws of mirth from all three boys, "Or p'raps you shaggin' my old man an' all." Jake spluttered, trying not to spit out too much pizza at the same time. "Fuck off," Shane said kindly, "You're quite tasty for a boy, but fuck knows where you got it from." "So you wouldn't wanna fuck my old man, then?" Jake giggled. "Would you?" "Fuck off!" "Question answered," Shane managed before he, too, doubled up with laughter. "No, bein' serious," Jake tried hard to look as though he was, indeed, being serious, "I should think he's probably quite fuckable," he paused, waiting several seconds before finishing with, "He's a total cunt, after all!" "Yeh, but we don't like fucking cunts, do we?" Shane shouted with laughter, stuck his hand inside my unzipped jeans and pulled me out for public viewing; "We like cock and hole." More laughter, but I spotted that Will did give himself a good look at what Shane was waving around, but, hell, why shouldn't he? I wouldn't turn down the chance to have a look at his! Observation of my cock completed, or at least completed as much as he dared, Will began whispering in Jake's ear. I didn't have the chance to see too much of what was going on because Shane decided he fancied a bit of tonsil investigation and, as he was very good at it, I joined in enthusiastically, forgetting all about whispering Will. Forgot, that is, until Will interrupted our tongue dance. "Dad?" his voice penetrated my Shane filled mind, "Dad," he repeated, "As we're all a bit well on the way, how you fancy making a proper party of it?" I moved my face away from Shane and looked across at Will and Jake, who were, as one might expect, comfortably close together. "How you mean?" "What would you think about putting some porn on the telly and us having a bit of an orgy? We do have something to celebrate, after all." One thing I had to admire about Will was that he was almost always polite and well-spoken – even now, with his fourteen year old boyfriend's hand down inside his underwear! "Bit of a drag, bringing the computer down." "Don't need to," Will beamed and fished inside his undone jeans' pocket and then holding up a couple of memory sticks. "I was a bit previous, Dad, and downloaded it. I know I should have asked, but I wanted to get it done and you were out buying booze for us." "No worries, but what good are they?" "They plug into the telly, Dad," Will explained patiently, "Sort of like a DVD, but easier. And it's going to be fab on the big screen." I couldn't argue with that – young teen boys sucking and fucking on the sixty inch wouldn't be far off life-size. "It's only boy stuff, I'm afraid," I said to Shane, "No big, hairy, muscular men." "Fine by me," Shane shrugged, "Don't mind a bit of boy now and again." "Okay for the porn, then," I agreed, "Not so sure about the orgy bit; orgies involve swapping partners." Whilst I was more than happy to have a chance at getting a bit of tall, slender Jake, Will was off-limits in my mind. "That's okay," Will insisted, "Jake's quite happy to go with you for a bit and I'm sure you're not going to turn down some more boy-cock, are you?" He pleaded with his eyes. "I loves munchin' Will's arse," Shane whispered in my ear and gave my cock a persuasive squeeze, "It's all lush and smooth." "Thought you preferred men." "Men or younger boys," Shane sniggered in my ear, "Not fussy." "Alright then," I conceded, "But my rules. Everyone naked and no wasted spunk." "That mean bareback?" Will asked, his eyes lighting up as far as the weed he'd smoked allowed them to light. "If it's alright with you," I said, not wanting to push the boys into something they weren't happy with. "Sure is," Shane enthused, "Love bein' spunked in!" I hoped Shane did not permit his clients that luxury, and made a mental note to ask later. "Let's strip one at a time," Will suggested, "So dad can have a really good perve." What a thoughtful boy! And, not for the first time since I'd outed him, I wished I'd got to know him this well when he was some years younger! "You go first, Shane," Will instructed, "Dad already knows what you got, but it'll give him something to play with while he's gawping at us stripping." I did know what Shane had, but I was far from averse to seeing it all revealed for me again. Shane rose, stood in the centre of the lounge, and stripped down to his see-through briefs, twirled around for effect and then stood in front of me so I could complete his disrobing. He was hard, of course, and once his briefs were round his ankles and he had stepped delicately out of them, his almost six inches were bobbing right in front of my face. Only one thing a man can do with just about six, hard, boy inches when they're right in front of his face, and that I did, opening my mouth and taking him in. "Yea!" Will cheered, "I got a dad who sucks boys' cocks! Fucking ace!" "Not too much," Shane cautioned me, eased his cock from my mouth and plonked down on the sofa beside me, very close beside me; well, almost on me actually. "You can manage more than one, surely?" "Course! But you don't wanna eat the biggest one too soon, do you," Shane said, practical and correct. Jake was next to take centre floor and Shane's hand probably noticed how keen I was to see the tall, slender fourteen year old in his natural state. He squeezed my hardness sympathetically, rested his head on my shoulder and whispered in my ear, behaving like the perfect boy-whore, "You're about to find out just what Will sees in him," Shane smirked into my ear, "And, believe me, there's quite a bit to see." Jake pulled off his top, presenting me with a view of a nice, slender chest with very attractive nipples, and when he stepped out of his jeans I could see that his long legs were also pleasantly slender. His lower legs were more than dusted with dark hairs and the beginnings of growth were also visible on his thighs. I hoped Will wasn't as fussy as I was about legs because it was obvious that within a few months, Jake was going to be far from smooth. For now, though, he was reasonable enough and actually looked quite tasty in his black boxer briefs. He turned away from me and moved closer to Will, so my son could do for him what I had done for Shane, and peel his now unwanted underwear from his slender frame. A very attractive bum with tight, firm cheeks made my mouth water a little; it watered a lot more when Jake bent to remove his socks, giving me a full view of his entry point, and when he thought I'd had enough time to get a decent look, he turned and presented me the frontal view. Shane was right when he said there was plenty to see! Jake was a big boy; the majority of him might be slender, but his hard vital part was surprisingly thick, surprisingly long as well! I guestimated him at a good six inches, not small at all for a boy of fourteen. His pubes, though, were already more than enough to conceal his full size, his bush thick and black and already starting to climb upwards. Jake was going to be a very hairy boy. Will was next and any reservations he had about revealing himself to me, he hid well, taking his clothes off facing me, but stopping when he was down to just his boxers. He stayed facing me while his boyfriend pulled those down for him from behind, the elastic waist band causing his cock to spring up and slap his stomach. Will's eyes held mine and I could tell from his look that he was pleading with me to like what I saw, it was his proudest possession, after all. A similar length to Shane's, somewhere around five and a half and less thick than Jake's it was a weapon to be proud of, tipped, like mine, with an ample bud of foreskin. Will's pubic bush was developing, but nowhere near as rampantly as Jake's and I had the impression that he was keeping it in check. "Lovely, Will," I mouthed at him and was rewarded with a wide smile. I was going to find it difficult not to think of my son as bedroom potential after this! Jake was doing more than thinking; I watched his hand slide round Will's waist, cup his balls and then grasp the hard inches that were pointing towards me, slowly wanking him; a little porn show for my delectation. "Does that well, doesn't he?" Shane observed, "But then, he's had loads of practice with that particular cock." It was a nice little orgy, not that I had anything to compare it with as it was my first, and once it was well under way the details became a bit hazy. I do remember watching avidly as William was spit-roast with Jake in the back way and Shane using his mouth, pulling out at the last moment so he could spurt down my throat. I did fuck Jake, and I know that somehow I kept my hands off Will, though if Shane hadn't dragged me off to bed my resolve there may well have weakened. "Jake's going straight," Will told me a few weeks later. He'd been looking a bit miserable for a day or so and I finally dragged the reason out of him. "He's got himself a girlfriend and thinks he shouldn't be doing stuff with boys any more." "It happens," I consoled him; "Might well happen to you as well." "No chance," Will gave me a wan smile, "Men, yes, but not boys; I like boys too much to even think about giving them up." Will had been doing less and less work and I'd not questioned him about it; we'd agreed from the start that it was his cock and he could do what he wanted with it and no questions from me and if he no longer wanted to rent it out I had no problem with that decision. "One or two guys I don't mind giving to," he said, explaining himself, "And one I think I'd really like to go with, but I don't get anything out of going with random guys anymore. Not since, well, not since you outed me, really." "Yeh, I should have found a better way to deal with things than I did," I admitted, "But it didn't turn out too bad, did it." "Turned out fucking brill, Dad," Will grinned, "Never have known you were into boys as well, if you hadn't, would I?" "And I am into boys," I agreed with a big smile, "I really love getting into a boy." "Dirty old dad," Will sniggered, "And you certainly like getting into Shane! You gonna ask him to be your boyfriend?" "We talked about it," I confessed, "But we agreed not to go there. Shane enjoys working too much to want to settle for just one cock for a year or three yet." "But you're still fucking him?" Will asked, concerned. "Oh, yes. He's far too tasty to leave alone when he's so completely available." "Good for you, Dad," Will smiled. "And what about you? What are you going to do now you've lost Jake? Go for this guy you quite fancy?" "I'd love to, Dad, Will said earnestly, "But that's just a bit of fantasy, really. Just like Tom Langer." "And who might Tom Langer be?" Not a name I'd heard Will mention before. "Fantasy as well," Will grinned, "Though I do wank about him loads." He said that without a hint of embarrassment, something that would have been utterly impossible only a few weeks before. "He's in Year Seven and he's absolutely fucking gorgeous! Quite tall for his age, well slender with fab long legs and amazing fair hair and blue eyes. He is amazing, Dad, a real cock hardener!" "Year Seven means he's only about twelve, isn't he?" "Yeh, I know he's too young, but, Dad, I'd love to shag him. He is so absolutely, completely, utterly fuckable!" I looked at Will with the sort of look that says `I think you'd better explain yourself, young man,' and Will had the grace to blush, just a little. "It's alright, Dad, I'm not making a play for him or anything; wait at least until he's old enough to spunk; then I will!" "By which time you'll have found out if he's likely to give," I grinned. "He's got to," Will dreamed, "His mouth's just made for sucking cock." "And how will you know when he's spunking?" I teased, "I don't suppose he'll make an announcement in school assembly." "Fuck knows," Will shrugged, "Just a dream really. You must have had boys you dreamed about doing." "Many," I agreed. "What's your favourite age, Dad?" Will changed the subject away from the twelve year old he obviously had more than a little crush on, perhaps feeling that twelve was a bit too young. "Fourteen, fifteen," I said without hesitation, although still finding it odd that I could talk like this with my son; "Had a few thirteens and more than a few sixteen and seventeens, but fourteen, fifteen is favourite. Loads of spunk and legs that are still smooth." "Oh, god," Will agreed fervently, "I hate hairy legs! That's one of the reasons I don't want men any more. And perhaps it's just as well Jake's gone straight cos he was starting to get a bit that way." "Shane's not," I pointed out. "Nah," Will agreed, "But he's not really into boys, is he. Dad," Will did a mock moan, "I'm fourteen and boyless! That's a terrible state to be in!" "Better start making a move on Tom Langer, then," I grinned. "Daaad!" Will protested, "He's only twelve!" "And thinking about him gets you hard," I said, staring at the ceiling. "Fucking does!" Will muttered, almost to himself. "Will," I said quietly, "If you fancy a twelve year old boy I'm not going to tell you that it is wrong or evil or anything. I will tell you to be careful, very, very careful, but if you do make a move and find he's up for it, then go for it and have fun. You're only fourteen, after all, only a couple of years older." "You'd really be okay with me bringing a kid that age home?" Will looked hopeful. "Of course. As long as you don't do anything, or try anything he doesn't want to do." "And if he does want to?" Will asked. "Then do it. And the same with the guy you fancy, assuming he's real and not a fantasy celebrity or something. You might even have better luck there, at least for starters." "Thanks, Dad," Will smiled, "You really are fucking magic." "Not really. Just into boys, that's all." "I know one boy you could be into," Will almost whispered, and I walked right into it. "You do?" "Yeh; he's got well smooth legs and a decent uncut cock. And he's fourteen – your favourite age." "Seen his cock, then, have you?" I asked, still not cottoning on. "Yeh, loads. Wanked it loads as well." "He gives, then," I said, stating the obvious; "You think he may go for a guy?" "Reckon you could bed him, no trouble at all." "Better get him round, then if you reckon he's that available." "He's seriously available, and seriously gagging for it; so long as you don't mind sharing him with a kid of twelve." Will looked me directly in the eyes, "If I'm lucky enough to get anywhere near Tom, that is." "Will?" "Please, Dad; I want you to cuddle me and kiss me and suck me and fuck me; and I want to suck you, I want to suck your spunk out and swallow it, time and time again. Please, Dad!" "Will, you have no idea just how difficult it's been to keep my hands off you since that night with Jake and Shane." "Take me to bed, then Dad! Do it now!" He meant it; even I with all my prejudices about not enjoying my son's adolescent delights, was in absolutely no doubt that he meant it. I had no stupid moral qualms or anything like that, just the simple concern that, at fourteen, hormones can lead a lad into doing stuff he will later regret and I didn't want to shag Will now and both of us suffer for it tomorrow. "I mean it, Dad," Will pushed me; "I know you're worried that it might not be right for us, but I really want you; I want to feel your cock inside me." "You sure this is not just a rebound from Jake?" I knew it was a lame thing to say, that I was just trying to find reasons for not doing what I so very much wanted to do. "Very sure. Please take me to bed, Dad, please, please, please." I did. I'm not going to detail what went on in bed for the rest of the day because that was between Will and me and nothing at all to do with anyone else; it is enough to say that I rose first in the morning and made Will breakfast and that when he came downstairs to eat it he came down naked. "You're beautiful, Will," I told him simply. "Thanks dad," he grinned at me, "But you're only saying that cos I'm naked, fourteen and still almost smooth and that's how you like your boys." "I like them kissable, wankable, suckable and fuckable as well." "That's good, cos I'm all of those," Will smiled at me, "And you sure know how to do those things with a boy." "Sure you want your old man as your boyfriend?" It had to be asked. "What do you think?" Will held out his hands, emphasising his lack of clothing. "I think you're probably the best fuck I've ever had. Loved you as a son, love you so much more now." "Cool," Will grinned, "We are going to have such a lot of fun together. And no way are you sleeping alone again from now on." "No way I want to," I grinned back, "Apart from those nights when you've got Tom Langer to keep you company." "You think it's okay for me to make a try there?" "I think it is. I can't tell you how hot it's going to be, getting fucked by my fourteen year old son fresh from his twelve year old boyfriend." "Dad, you know you have a seriously filthy mind!" "I know. Get used to it." "No problem," Will grinned a grin that would have got me reaching for his cock if it wasn't already in my hand. "Weird," Will observed as I led him by the cock out from the kitchen and into the lounge where we moulded together on the sofa, "When you found out I was rent I was dead bothered you'd just want to do me when you said you were into boys, now I just want you to have me as much as you want. Well strange." "Not really," I said, stroking his hair and as much of his naked flesh as I could get at, "It wouldn't have been right then. It would have just been me taking advantage of you, treating you like a slut, available for anyone." "But I am a slut, Dad," Will's voice was soft, "A total, utter slut. There's no way I can get enough cock. I just love cock. I had my first cock when I was still in primary school. I showed mine to Jake and told him he was chicken if he didn't let me see his. Dad, I made Jake fuck me when we were ten. You can't get more sluttish than that!" "True," I agreed, "I started at ten as well, with three other boys. Sucked my first cock then, but never got fucked till I was almost fifteen. Wish now I'd been done earlier." "That true, Dad?" Will asked, looking at me in a way that made it clear he hoped that I was telling the truth. "Absolutely true; and before you ask, I never got fucked and stuff because I guess none of us did that way back then. No internet to make sure we knew everything we could do to each other." "So you really don't think Tom's too young?" Will asked; I say `asked' but I knew he was really begging me to say I thought it was acceptable. "If he's up for it, then he's not too young; but be sure he's not too young for you. Won't have a lot there to play with, remember." "His mouth, Dad," Will almost whispered, "His mouth round me, sucking me. I just dream of it all the time." "Give it a try, then, son; and I hope it works out for you. Now, any chance you fancy my mouth as a substitute?" Will smiled and cuddled close. "Guess," he whispered.