Date: Sun, 29 Mar 2020 23:48:01 +0000 (UTC) From: Bus Pender Subject: Breaking Ethan 10 Breaking Ethan 10 : Doing Ethan's dad by Bus Pender ........ This is a work of gay fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is entirely unintentional. This text deals with sexual relations between two men. If you find this offensive, if you are underage or if possession of this text is illegal in your area, please leave now. This story is not intended to promote any action on the part of the reader. It is merely a fantasy and I hope you appreciate it as such. Feedback welcome. The author retains rights and title to this work. Reproduction of this work without author's consent constitutes a violation of the agreement. If you enjoy this site, please make a donation. http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html ........ It appeared to be a small industrial complex with parking that extended along the side and to the back of the building. It was dusk, around 6:30; ours was the only car in the lot and the office windows were completely dark. A few parking lot lights dimly illuminated the asphalt space. The place was deserted. I directed Zach around a corner of the building and had him park the car. His body was tense and I could tell he was feeling really uncomfortable. "So how do I get on the highway from here Mark?," he asked. His voice was cracking. "You don't," I said. A sigh. "Look, Mark, I told you .. " I reached over and turned off the engine. Silence, save for the remote sound of traffic on the street. I put a hand on his upper thigh and he let out another uncomfortable sigh, but he didn't try to move it. I continued to regard him. He was looking straight ahead, his hands still gripping the steering wheel. "Mark, please, I .." he said. "Shoosh," I whispered. With my hand still on his thigh, I undid my seat belt and leaned in to him, kissing the side of his neck softly. Another sigh, this one long and labored. I released his seat belt and it slid up and across his body, freeing him from his constraints. I gently urged his right hand off the steering wheel and it came to rest by his side. I continued nuzzling the side of his neck and undid the top button of his shirt, leaning in to kiss the exposed flesh. It was smooth, and he had thin downy patches, much like Ethan used to have. I undid the next button and gingerly pulled open his shirt to reveal a nipple, a rosy orb standing pertly at attention. My lips descended upon it, kissing it gently and then bringing it fully into my mouth. I tongued it wetly as my fingers found his other nipple and began playing with it. "Oh god, what are you doing?" "I'm having my way with you, Zach," I whispered. "Oh." I almost burst out laughing, but instead focused my energy on undoing the remainder of his buttons. I did this slowly and, with each button I popped, I let my hand slide along his torso. His shirt fell open, revealing a creamy chest and stomach. I took in his manly scent as I began kissing downward, following the patch of soft hair towards his navel and beyond. I reached across him and pulled on the release handle, gently easing his seat into a reclined position. It didn't go back completely horizontal; more like a lounge chair. Astronaut position. Perfect. His hands instinctively moved to cover his crotch. I leaned down and took his right hand, bringing it up to my lips. I began to kiss it tenderly, drawing his thumb slowly, wetly into my mouth and sucking on it. I moved his left hand away and continued to kiss his right, working my way up his wrist. With my other hand, I fumbled with his fly. He began to struggle, trying to push my hand away, but I was persistent. "Let me in, Zach. You know you want this," I whispered. He stopped struggling and his body went limp as my probing fingers found his zipper and started to ease it down. "Oh," he whimpered. "That's it, Zach, be a good boy and relax," I cooed. I let go of his right hand and used both my hands to work on his zipper; one held the fabric of his crotch while the other tugged on the tab. His crotch had morphed into a tense mound which I gently massaged as I eased the zipper over and down all the way. A perceptible warmth emanated from his open fly, and my index and middle fingers dove in with intent, toying around and pulling at the opening from different angles. A velvety bush of hair tickled my fingers as they explored the landscape. I sunk my fingers deep into the soft bramble and eventually located Zach's dick, warm and dewy, and lodged horizontally in the folds of his boxers. I slid my fingers along its length. The log strained further as Zach began to bleat ambiguously. I poked around some more to shift its position. It took some doing, but my efforts were ultimately met with success; his dick sprang out, up, like an urgent exclamation mark. I stopped and sucked in my breath. There it was. His divine instrument. The tool he'd used some 20 years prior to procreate, to progenate, to deliver the genetic material that would result in the creation of my little Ethan. Truly the stuff that dreams were made of. His penis was spectacular. Firm, determined, unequivocal. He was cut and a good inch longer than Ethan, and thicker too. But it was the totality of his member that awed me. The exquisite taper of the root that sloped skyward, flaring to a majestic crimson crown, like some exotic plant waiting anxiously to be pollinated. I leaned in and inhaled deeply. It had a moist, earthy smell, a bit like clean sweat. My hand was shaking as I reached down, fingers extended, to examine, appraise, welcome this beguiling shoot that had risen up so resolutely from the warm depths. It shuddered at my touch, and I, in turn, experienced an internal tremor at the responsiveness of his member and the tactile exchange we had established. I leaned down further and kissed the tip. It was spongy firm, engorged, and was issuing a purposeful pool of pre-cum. A strand clung to my lips, creating a glimmering connection between the two of us. I kissed again, this time easing my lips slowly, agonizingly over his delectable cock head. He gasped. "Oh god, unh .. please, don't tell Ethan". "Now why would I do a thing like that?" I said through my best shit-eating grin. I buried my face in his crotch and lapped contentedly at his dick. But I could only go so far. The base of his shaft and his balls were still buried within the depths of his clothing. I had come this far, I wasn't going to be deprived of the full experience. He needed to lose the pants. I continued to tease his dickhead with my tongue while my right hand roamed down his leg, stopping at his foot. I held his ankle in a gentle grip and slipped three fingers inside his shoe, tracing the soft gentle arch beneath the fabric of his sock. There's something alluring about a man's socked feet. It's not just that I find them beautiful to behold. To me they represent a portal to a deeper level of familiarity. A guy's feet are typically off limits to all but his most trusted consort .. a partner or spouse. Being able to grope them is a passport into his private, keenly personal realm. An act of laying claim. An expression of proprietorship. And gaining access against his will makes the acquisition all the sweeter. I began tugging roughly at his laces, yanking the bow. "Uh, no, you don't need to do that," he said. "Quiet Zach, I'm in charge," I said sternly. I continued to pluck at his laces until they stood loosely arching above the tongue of his shoe. I pulled at the heel, but he fought me, tried to make it difficult for me to remove; but I would not be denied. A few more gentle tugs and finally his shoe came off; I tossed it in the back of the car and lovingly stroked the bottom of his foot, enjoying the smooth white fabric of the sole and the subtle aroma that had begun to permeate the enclosed space. I did the same with the other shoe. Again he fought me but I persisted and managed to get it off as well. I spent a few moments in the intimate ritual of foot massage, all the while tugging gently on his dick to maintain that vital connection between control and gratification. Zach had man feet. Not big, but thick, solid, assured. I took my time, familiarizing myself with the particularities of this very private part of him, petting his soles, squeezing, smoothing, soothing. Through this intimate liturgy, without words, I made it clear to him that, in no uncertain terms, I had the power to dabble in this and any region of his body I desired, no matter how fortressed. To do with it whatever the fuck I wanted. And that he would find this agreeable. Reassuring. Pleasurable. That he had no say in the matter, and that he would find comfort in that. I brought my attention back to his dick, easing my lips down, further, taking in more of his magnificent shaft. I brought my hands up to his chest and allowed them to roam the landscape as my mouth pulled gently on his tool. I played with his nipples some more, teasing them into little bullet points of sensation. He started trying to hump my mouth, in an awkward, teenage-boy fashion. I quickly put an end to that by holding his hips in place. "Knock it off, Zach. Stay still," I instructed. He settled down. It's funny, a lot of people think that going down on a guy is tantamount to submission, which it can be. But not the way I do it. With me, it's a predatory act; I take control as I feed on my exposed, defenseless quarry. I devour my victim slowly, with purpose, ensuring maximum pleasure but on my terms. No humping, no thrusting, no bucking allowed. It's me who controls the manner and the timing of the act. In fact, control is probably the most exciting part for me. Controlling the way a guy reaches orgasm, and how he experiences it. I moved my hands up to his waist and began undoing his belt buckle. I didn't miss a beat with his dick as I undid the belt and popped the button of his pants. I grabbed each side of his waistband. "Lift your hips, Zach." "Uh, no, I'm okay, I don't want you to .." "Zach, I said, `lift your hips'. Don't argue, just do it." I was becoming impatient. And he did. Slowly, reluctantly he lifted his hips and I slid his pants and boxers down. I tucked his dick back into his boxers and then pulled his pants and shorts all the way down. There wasn't a lot of room to pull each pant leg off so I reached down below the seat and released the lever, pushing his seat back as far as it would go. I didn't to it too smoothly; in fact, truth be told, I rammed it back and he came to a stop with a sudden jolt. "Oops, sorry," I said insincerely. I then removed the pant legs one at a time, bundled up his pants and shorts and tossed them in the back of the car. He was now virtually naked .. just an unbuttoned shirt, white socks and a raging bone straining skyward, a very sexy look. His dick was so emphatic in its vertical ambition that I was tempted to look up to see what it was so strenuously pointing at. His balls were in full view now and they completed the picture rather nicely. A firm, taut sack supporting his rigid shaft. I cupped them in my hand, kissed them tenderly and then began to lick. Tracing the form of his tight sack, up his shaft, following the curves of his eager indenture. I was surprised how much room there was once I'd pushed his seat back so I scooched over, crouching before him between his legs. I had the steering wheel poking me in the back a bit, but if I laid low I was okay. I put my hands on his thighs and buried my face in his manhood. He started moaning and brought his hands onto my head, running his fingers through my hair. I pushed his hands away, and down, and took hold of his seatbelt, bringing it back over his body, his arms, and fastening it into place. `Click'. There was that portentous sound again. I gave the seatbelt a sharp tug to make sure it was as tight as possible against him. He was now effectively restrained. "Wha', what's that for?" he asked. I whispered softly into his ear. "This is your captain speaking; for your safety and security, seatbelts must be worn at all times during the flight. Just lay back and enjoy the ride." In the low light, I could sense his grin. I rewarded him with a few more laps at his dick. He grunted. With my head at seat level, I noticed he had a tube of hand moisturizer in one of the cupholders. I guess he liked to have soft hands. Without thinking, I grabbed the tube and squirted a blob onto the middle finger of my right hand. I brought the hand up between his legs, scooped under his balls and continued the journey upward until it found its destination. I touched my finger to his little pucker and he jumped. "NO!" he cried. He started squirming and trying to free his arms. I know he could have gotten loose with some effort and struggle, but I brought my lips back onto his dick to balance things out a bit as I gently, ever so softly, began massaging his little opening. My finger skated around the edge of his pucker, moving in slow concentric circles to his tiny hatch. He lapsed back into reverie as I continued to tug on his dick. I applied moderate pressure on his pucker, still making tiny swirling motions with my finger as I did. The area was now nicely lubed so I poked the finger forward and a good half inch disappeared inside him. He gasped. "That's it, Zach, you're being such a good boy, I'm so proud of you," I said as I moved my finger further in. He gasped again. I sucked gently on his dick as I slowly moved my finger back and forth, going a bit deeper with each forward movement. He was whimpering now. I added a glob of moisturizer to my index finger and started to massage his anus with it. He was starting to writhe around once again and I had to pay some serious attention to his dick in order for him to settle down. I inserted the finger into his ass, just the tip at first. He groaned. I sucked on his dick as I moved the finger further in. Both fingers were now about half way up his ass and I thought, `what the hell', as I pushed them in to my knuckles. "Ow, please, stop," he cried. "Just stay still, it'll feel amazing real soon." He remained still and breathed. In the dim light, I could make out a grimace of shock on his face, but it was a blissful shock. About half a minute later his eyes opened and he gasped, then a slow series of hushed `ohs' and `ahs'. I began to time the movement of my mouth on his dick with the rhythm of my fingers working his ass. His eyes had closed again and he had a dreamy look on his face. Without warning, I felt his dick tense up in my mouth. The head swelled and the shaft firmed up, it was like his dick was sweating. He was about to start humping again but I held him down firmly with my free hand. "None of that, Zach, just relax your muscles. See if you can get under the sensations, let them carry you there," I said. I suddenly felt like a doula, offering support and encouragement before an imminent birth. He settled down and began to pant rhythmically, interspersed with the odd gulp. It was pure heaven to see him like this. I tooled around inside his ass a bit, he let out a long groan that sounded like a plea, lapsed into a protracted `oooooh'. His dick tensed up again but he kept his body relaxed, as I'd instructed. I started back with my tongue, outlining the perimeter of his swollen head, barely touching him. He began breathing harder now, his chest was heaving and he had a line of drool escaping the corner of his mouth. I tongued his sweet spot, then took him fully into my mouth once again, keeping his dick good and wet. And then the pulses started. He didn't move but his cock was firing like a cannon, I could actually sense it throbbing in my mouth, issuing gobs of spooge, pent up for god knows how long. It was actually several seconds after the first pulses before my mouth began to receive his cum. And it was a welcome arrival, the warmth and force of his emission, urgently transporting its generative cargo. I imagined the scene some 20 years earlier, when just such an discharge had, ultimately, produced a superb little boy. So I encouraged and revelled in his ejaculation, milking him like a cunt. He climaxed rather quietly. Apart from the sounds of his laboured breathing, he emitted only a few deep sighs, the odd grunt, but no moaning or screaming. Go figure. His orgasm subsided, his spent dick became still and rested limply on my tongue, amidst a pool of cum. The slow steady shrinking was punctuated sporadically by the odd twitch. I allowed a tiny bit of his cum to dribble down my throat; I needed to sample his procreative consignment. It tasted as I'd expected .. somewhat salty, a bit sweet, a strangely organic aspect that I could never quite define. But knowing where it came from and what it was capable of producing made it delightful. I pulled my mouth off his dick and extricated my fingers from his ass, wiping them on his hip as I did. I brought my body up and lay on top of him, missionary style, supporting myself with my elbows. Looking down, I was face to face with this delicious man. I looked into his eyes, just inches away, and gave him a bit of a smirk. He was panting heavily, a bewildered look on his handsome face. I took advantage of his open mouth and gently brought my lips to his, slipping him my tongue and probing with intent. He was startled, didn't know what to do, had likely never kissed a man before, so foreign to him. Even more foreign was the ooze of cum that I was channeling into his mouth. I had gravity on my side, so the puddle easily slid down into his unsuspecting cavity. When he realized what was happening, he tried to pull away, but I'd already brought my hands to either side of his head, holding it in place as I kissed him passionately, returning his generative fluid to its rightful owner. His protests were muffled amidst the confluence of our joined mouths. I began to massage the side of his neck, the back of his jaw, relaxing his muscles and encouraging him to swallow. He made a final squelched protest, louder and more forceful than those previous, but I didn't relent. I stayed on him, tonguing his seed into his unwilling mouth and, invariably, down his throat. He let out a smothered sigh of resignation and swallowed. I smiled, pulled off, kissed his lips one last time. "You did good, Zach, you can relax now," I said, smoothing his hair. "Oh god, why did you do that .. " he said. He was still panting. "`Cause I felt like it, Zach. How'd you like it ?" I slid over slightly so I could rest alongside him. I began softly stroking the underside of his penis. It must have been unbelievably sensitive at that point, but I've found that this post-ejaculation gesture reinforces the notion of ownership. "God, I don't know, uh, I never .. unh .. " he said. "Well, you have six hours on the road to sort things out, Zach," I said. Improbably, his dick had stopped shrinking and was, in fact, growing once again. Good .. I enjoyed leaving a guy wanting. I rolled myself into the passenger seat. I undid his seatbelt, gave his pecker a final stroke and opened the car door. I began to step out but Zach grabbed my arm. "Mark, please, don't go now, let me, uh, return the favour, you know .. I mean I can't, um, you know, but I can, um, like, I can finish you off .." He was eyeing my tenting crotch, hardly concealing the serious bone I'd sprouted. Interesting for someone who wasn't "into guys". "Sorry Zach, my dick is saved for someone else," I said. "Huh?," he said. "Zach, listen to me. You're a lovely man, but this was a one-time thing. I really wanted to do this for you, but honestly, it was more about my own need. I belong to someone else. I just needed to, erm, have this experience." I kissed him on the mouth and flicked my middle finger against his stiffening rod. He winced and cried out as I stepped outside and began walking away, leaving the car door open. "Mark, wait, how do I reach you ?," he cried. "You don't," I called back. I stopped short, turned toward the car. "Oh yeah, continue up the street, hang a right at the first lights, you'll see the signs for the highway. Ciao Zach." I didn't look back. I didn't know what he was thinking and I didn't care. My phone began to buzz. I looked at the display; it was Ethan.