Date: Tue, 31 Oct 2023 11:20:02 -0400
From: Tom x <niftywriter65@gmail.com>
Subject: The Bareback Barback 8

Disclaimers: I am an adult. These are my stories I wrote, not infringing on
anyone's copyright. This story involves homosexual sex between consenting
males -- children will not appear in this or any future stories in this
section. This story does not include blackmail, kidnapping, rape, minors,
suicide, or homicide. Bareback sex is a risky sexual option, and this story
does not encourage you to have unprotected sex. There are no links provided
for finding this story elsewhere. If it is illegal in your jurisdiction to
view, read, or have this material, or if you are a minor, you are asked to
leave this story and this page.

Mexico

Finally, the last week of February arrived, and I could barely contain my
excitement. Pete and I were off to Spring Break together. He arrived at our
little airport, and it was busier in the terminal than usual. I had my
jacket open and my SON shirt on. I yelled, "Dad!" when I saw him at the
gate. He looked great as usual, and he must have known what I'd be wearing
because he was wearing his DAD shirt. I hurried over to him and hugged him
around the waist. He dropped his bags, wrapped his arms around my
shoulders, bent down, affectionately kissed the top of my head, and cradled
my face next to his chest. I breathed him in. Oh wow -- I had missed him. A
few onlookers were full of "ooohs and ahhhs" watching our reunion. I
suspected they were thinking how nice it was to see a teenage son so
excited to see his dad again.

I'm not sure why he came to our city to make another connecting flight to
another town to go on to Mexico, but I was glad he did. I had my bags
packed and already checked, so all I had with me was my carry-on. I grabbed
one of Pete's bags and towed it along with me. We stopped to get a cup of
coffee while we waited for our flight to be called.

"How have you been?" Pete asked. "Looks like you've put on some muscle
while I've been away."

"I've missed you, and I needed something to pass the time, so I've been
hitting the gym a little more."

"It looks good. It looks terrific on you," he smiled. He was actually
beaming.

"How's work going? Are you still thinking mid-April?" I asked.

"Actually, the work starts mid-April, but I've been thinking about taking
two weeks before to start looking for a place for us and getting set up."

"Oh! That would be great!" I was genuinely excited.

"Maybe we can start our arrangement then?" he asked me.

"Start when you want to; I'm just so ready to see you."

He laughed and teased my hair. "You need another haircut," he said, looking
at my head.

"Well, sir, if I may, you look like you could use one yourself," I teased
him.

"First thing we do in Puerto Vallarta after checking in and finding a salon
for both of us," his eyes twinkled.

We finished up our coffee and headed to boarding. On the flight from Miami
to Mexico, I fell asleep, not because of boredom, but because I was
exhausted and relieved simultaneously. Pete was back, and we would have
another magical week together. I lay my head on his strong shoulder and
fell asleep. I had taken my jacket off for the flight and apparently
started shivering. Through the sleepiness, I could hear Pete asking for a
blanket for his son. He didn't move an inch, lest I wake up and not have me
as close to him as was socially acceptable. I slept for most of the entire
flight until I could hear the announcement that we'd be in Puerto Vallarta
in about 20 minutes. I was groggy but shook the sleepiness from my head and
looked sheepishly at Pete.

"Do you feel better?" Pete looked me in the eyes. "You were out! Are you
working yourself too hard at the gym?"

"Maybe," I shook my head again.

"We can go the gym as much or as little as you want this week, but I need
you awake!"

I laughed, pretending to punch him in the ribs. He laughed, grabbed my
fist, and then realized where we were and put it back.

We disembarked and took a cab to the hotel along the beach. Pete didn't
spare any expense. We were on the top floor with a magnificent view of the
beach. The hotel was only finished six months ago, and it still had a new
smell to everything. I stood out on the big balcony, watching the waves
come in as the sun set. The sky had a few long horizontal clouds, but
otherwise, it was gorgeous and romantic.

"What do you want for dinner?" Pete asked as he tipped the valet.

"You!!" I hugged him.

He laughed at me, hugged me, and held on to me. "I'm starving. I didn't eat
on the plane. And you slept right through the dinner service. Aren't you
hungry?"

"Actually, I could eat a little bit. Room service or go out?"

"I'm with the most gorgeous swimmer here in Mexico, Champ. Let's go
out. Besides, you had a nap. You're rested enough to stay up all night!"
Pete tousled my hair. "Salon tomorrow!"

"Well, with you as my escort, my good looks have definitely improved," I
hugged him around that trim waist of his, "Oh, I've gained weight, but you
have lost some -- where did you find any to lose?"

"I've just been doing like you, training more to get through to right now."

"Maybe you have a new boyfriend you want to get all trim for?" I teased
him.

He looked at me seriously and said, "Is that what we are? Am I your
boyfriend?"

"C'mon, let's talk about that at dinner. I've been thinking about it for
six weeks."

"Good thoughts?" he asked pretty bluntly.

"I've only thought good things. Why don't we figure it out together during
this trip? But, yeah, it's something I wanted to talk about when I saw
you."

He seemed mollified, and we decided not to change and to go casual.

"Can I have a margarita?" I asked the waiter when we ordered. Pete looked
at me exasperated and began to say something, then decided to let it
go. "Can I, Dad?" I asked him.

"Sure, just one," he told me. Then he proceeded to order our meal in
perfect enough Spanish that our waiter simply collected our menus after he
ordered.

"You're lucky there's no drinking age here," Pete said to me smiling, "One
just one, I want you alert."

I smiled, "Thank you. Just one."

"So you've been thinking about us since I left?  Can I ask what you've
thought about?" Pete asked hesitantly.

"Oooooh -- where do I start?" I sighed. "Well, I know I've missed you --
not just the sex -- but you. I know you've taken a place in my mind
and. . ." I looked down, found my nerve, and looked at him in the eyes, "my
heart.  Boyfriends?  I don't even know what that means, really. You're no
boy, but you're my best friend ever. You are my friend, confidant, mentor,
and lover. I know it's crazy to think I'll be working for you in a month or
so.  Does that make you my boss? Me -- your employee? I've been confused
but never hurt when I think about you -- which is every day -- wondering
what you're doing, wondering if your situation at home has improved. I feel
empty, but not because I don't have feelings for you, empty because you're
not next to me to share that with you."

Our drinks arrived on cue, and I took a big swig of my margarita. I had let
out a lot of emotions that I was surprised I had, shocked that I said them
out loud. I dropped an emotional bomb on Pete.

He raised both his eyebrows and took a deep breath.

"That's a lot of thinking," he smiled at me.

"Boyfriends? I agree with your assessment of that term. I'm not going to be
your boss. And my situation at home hasn't improved, it's not going to, and
I wouldn't want it to or let it do so. There's too much bitterness on both
our parts to try.

"I've thought a lot about what we are, me and you, for each other, too. At
times, I felt I was being foolish, a man my age dating an 18-year-old. Then
I've been greedy, taking you away from people your age to spend time with
me. I've been confused, too, about what this is for us. But I know I feel
like the man I should be when I'm with you.

"When I take the age difference away, I still find that you're someone I
want to spend time with, someone who makes me feel whole, someone who I
find myself caring about more and more."

I was trembling. "I don't ever think you've been foolish, at least around
me. I know you say to take age out of the equation, but I don't know many
guys my age who can do and keep up with me the way you do -- the skiing,
the swimming, the sex. I think it's impressive you are 42 and can perform
as if you were half that age. There's nothing foolish about that. You
challenge me, and I think I find that appealing."

His voice was shaky, "I've missed you so much it's hurt! I've broken down
three or four times this past month thinking about you."

I reached over and grabbed his hand, "You have? You don't have to break
down now; we're here!"

He nodded, took a deep breath, and smiled at me.

I gently changed the subject and moved on to his job assignment. He was
very excited about that.

"I've thought about what your title and responsibilities should be. What
about 'personal assistant?'"

I smiled wryly. "What does that involve?"

He smirked, "Well, how about keeping me on track? I have a secretary in the
office who keeps me straight on my dates and times, but she's not
here. That would be you. I'm good with my emails, and I don't like it, but
I can keep up on correspondence. But you could make sure I stay on
schedule. You can schedule meetings for me, dinners, time off, and the few
trips I have to make while I'm here."

"That's sounds easy enough."

"You think so now, but I'm challenging, and I hate wasting time. I'm a bear
if things get messed up on my schedule. You may hate me by the time this
summer is over."

"You can always fire me," I laughed.

We finished a light dinner and left the restaurant with his arm over my
shoulders. It felt good to have him so close to me. It felt comforting that
he was there. We got a few looks of us both wearing our swim team dad/son
shirts, and despite a long day of traveling, we still looked better than
average.

When we got back to the hotel, I stood out on the balcony admiring the moon
over the ocean. It was still loud even though it was 10 p.m. Tons of
students on break were at the beach talking, partying, and making a
ruckus. Pete came out, wrapped his arms around my chest, and held me with
his chin on my head. It wasn't comfortable, but I wouldn't have moved for
all the money in the world. Soon, he was planting light kisses on the back
of my neck at my hairline. It tickled, and I closed my eyes. I fell into
him enjoying his masculinity. I turned around and started kissing him with
my eyes open. I realized it was the first time we had really kissed.

"I really have missed you," Pete said, stroking my face with the back of
his hand. "I wondered if you had gone off me. I've wanted to kiss you from
the minute I got off the plane to pick you up."

"So much has happened today, so many emotions, and I need to take a minute
and remember what's important -- you and me. I'm sorry, it wasn't
intentional. We've been running since we got on the plane in
Charlottesville and haven't been alone since. But we are now." I put my
hand on his head, felt his hairline with my fingers, and had my thumb on
his temple. He melted, closed his eyes, and rubbed the back of my hand with
his.

"I wonder if there's a way to make it up to you?" I teased him.

"I can think of a few ways," he murmured quietly, still rubbing my hand.

"Shower?" he asked me. "I'm sort of sweaty after dinner."

"No, I want to smell you, feel you, touch you, watch you, hear you, taste
you."

"But I'm sweat---" he started.

"I need to smell you!"

We went to the bedroom and undressed each other leisurely. I admired how
much more cut up he had become, and he was enjoying a little more muscle I
had put on in our time apart. I smelled him. He was a little sweaty but
deliciously so. I went behind him and sniffed at the base of his pit. It
was heaven. He smelled distinctly masculine. I rubbed his back, and he
tilted his head. I reached up to his neck and began working on it. He
moaned and sighed. I planted kisses on his broad shoulders and held his
firm waist with both my hands. He definitely enjoyed the attention I was
giving him. I leaned up to his ear and said, "I want you."

We went to the bed and lay on it on our sides, facing each other. We looked
at each other, smiling and happy we were finally together again. I began
tracing my finger lightly over his arm, then onto his neck and lips. I was
ecstatic that I got to touch him so intimately again. He put his hand on my
waist and then moved down over my hip and gently massaged my upper
thigh. He moved back to my waist and rubbed his hand over my abs, gingerly
rubbing each valley. I traced his mustache and his beard to his ears with
my fingers. I touched that sensitive spot behind his ear. He trembled.

"I'm glad we're together again," he sighed. "You feel and look so good."

"So, do you all cut up and tight," I said. He blushed. "I'm glad we get
another week together."

"If I had my way, it would be forever," he said

I snuggled up to him, kissed his chest, and lay my head on his arm. "I
know," I said wistfully.

He rolled me onto my back and pulled my legs slightly apart. He put himself
between them and reached for the bottle of lube on the nightstand. He put a
good amount on himself and gently fingered my hole for a while. He was
really making me want him even more. I was preparing myself for the
lovemaking I had in mind for tonight. I moaned as he got a little more
aggressive with his fingering; it felt good to have him there.

He pulled my legs up onto his torso and positioned his cock at my hole. I
was shaking. I wanted him so badly. He slid into me slowly but
deliberately, and soon, he was entirely in. I missed this man, I missed his
cock, I missed his touch so much the past month and a half. He began
withdrawing and then back in. He felt huge compared to the last time we had
sex. He started panting, and he pulled back out and then shoved into me
roughly. "Oh damn," I heard him say. He had come inside me.

I started laughing. He looked at me, puzzled. I reached up and brought his
face to me and kissed him. "Damn, stud. You really must have missed me. Two
strokes, and you blew?"

He looked ashamed, "I'm so sorry, Champ."

I cut him off. "Don't apologize to me. I believe you have missed me."

"I have," he entreated, "I really wanted to make love to you tonight, and I
acted like a . . ."

"You acted like a horny teenager." I laughed again. "Welcome to the club!"

He lay down next to me on the bed and started laughing, too. "That's
embarrassing."

"That's hot if you ask me. I'm taking it as a compliment. Actually, I'm
impressed. I bet your refill won't take as long as usual."

He hugged me and held me close, and we fell asleep together with the breeze
blowing through the balcony door; even with the noise on the beach, we
didn't hear a thing.


"C'mon, time to get up," I heard Pete buzzing around the room, answering
the door for breakfast service and unzipping luggage. I was glad we had a
sunset-facing room. I held my arm over my face and looked at him. He was
like a kid at Christmas, making me smile broadly.

"For your inspection, sir," he said as he plunked down a rainbow of his
contoured Speedos next to me. He had colors I didn't even know they made. I
was feeling envious.

"You're going to have colors I don't," I protested.

"You have them," he smiled, walked over to the suitcase, and pulled out the
same rainbow for me.

He was proud of himself. I was impressed with his ability to find the
identical two suits for us. He had already put a pair on and was walking
around the suite in just that. And he looked fine. He looked perfect. His
chest was tight and muscular, and his arms had a great bicep/tricep combo
with that strong vein running down it to his forearms. His waist was so
much tighter than it was before, not that it was flabby or even remotely
big. His definition was impressive. He did look like one of my teammates,
except with greying temples and a little grey in his beard.

"C'mon, get up. We have an appointment at the salon in a half hour. Get
some breakfast."

I got up lazily the way I fell asleep, with nothing on. I stood and
stretched and reached for the sky with my fists clenched, twisted at my
waist, and placed my hands behind my back. Pete gasped.

"Wow, the daylight really shows off your hard work," he marveled. "You look
fantastic."

I walked over to him with a semi and kissed him. "You do, too. What did you
get for breakfast?"

He poured me a cup of coffee and opened the lid on my plate. Eggs and
toast! He remembered. I took a sip of coffee and kissed him again. "Thank
you!" I beamed at him.

"I have a few patches of hair sprouting that I want them to wax on me, and
well, I thought maybe we'd take care of those," he said, pointing to my
balls.

"What's wrong with them? They're not going to wax them, are they?"

He started laughing, "No, only a nice clean shave. I wanted to do it at the
cabin, but I didn't want to hurt you. I know how to do mine, but when I
thought about it and the possibility of hurting you, I backed out."

"Does it hurt?" I asked, becoming even more uneasy about the plan.

"No, it doesn't hurt at all," he laughed. "And when they're done, you'll
never let your hair get long there again. It feels good! I promise!"

He was animated this morning, and I took it as a good sign for our coming
week.


"Here you are, senor. Is this good?" the male esthetician asked proudly,
displaying my genitals to Pete.

"Feel them, son. What do you think?" Pete asked me to fondle my balls in
front of him and another man.

I touched my balls and wrapped my hand around them. They were silky
smooth. I raised my eyebrows and had a smile. I also began firming up
because Pete was there, and I always got hard just seeing him. It didn't
help that he only had a tiny pair of shorts on and was growing as well.

'I think my son is satisfied," Pete said. I was blushing, and he snickered
at me.

Pete had some patches of his back and shoulders waxed that he thought were
growing too much hair for his taste. I had always shaved my chest for
swimming, but Pete suggested the esthetician wax my belly, leaving just my
treasure trail. And so he began waxing me. Damn, it hurt, but it was a
short procedure. Then I dressed, and we both got haircuts. Pete also had
all of his greys blended out with some coloring. I didn't realize we would
be in a salon all morning, but Pete was right: I needed a haircut. When we
finished, we walked out looking pretty hot. Pete could have been my older
brother. He looked impressive with his tight, lean body and his new
haircut.

"You don't think this is ridiculous, do you?" Pete asked me, walking back
to the room.

"No, you're hot as hell. I need a little time to get used to you looking
much younger."

Pete grabbed the back of my head with his hand and felt my new
haircut. "You look good, Champ."

I was proud of him for trying a younger haircut and getting away with it,
and proud to walk next to him.

"Let's go back to the room and have pretty boy sex before going to the
beach," I teased him.

He laughed at me, "Is it different from what we already do?"

"No," I laughed with him, "I just want to have sex with a model."

He blushed and pretended to punch my shoulder.

We passed a little beachwear shop, and I begged Pete to stop in. He cocked
an eyebrow. "Is this an attempt to get more 'cover shorts'?" he asked.

"No, you said how much you hated those. Actually, I saw something that
you'd look even more gorgeous in."

"I didn't hate them. In fact, you'll be happy to know I got us both a few
pairs for this trip. It seemed a little bit more of an appropriate place to
wear them, you know."

"You were sizzling hot in them! No, I thought this would really be hot for
you," I said, holding up a cropped silky tank top."

"You are kidding me. I couldn't fit that it looks so small. It doesn't even
cover my lower belly."

"They're not supposed to; they stretch, which would fit you. Please."

"Fine," he said, giving in, "but if I'm wearing one, so are you! And you
need to wear this, too."

My jaw dropped. It was a tiny cut neon green thong. I started
laughing. "You want me to parade around on the beach in that?"

"OK, I get your point; we'll just get the tank tops."

We got back to the room by 10:30, and Pete was pretty horny. As soon as the
door to the room closed, he started kissing the back of my neck and ears
while rubbing my chest and abs. He pushed my shorts down and got on his
knees. He took my mostly hard cock in his mouth and began to suck on
it. Within seconds, I was rigid. "Mmmmmm," I heard him say as he continued
to work on my raging hard-on. It felt good to have his mouth on me. I
lightly grabbed his head and began to face fucking him. He let out a few
moans, and I know I got a little carried away because I heard him gag a few
times. I felt bad for that since this might be the first cock he sucked,
but it felt so good having him try this on me. Pete began sucking me harder
and more deliberately. I could hear him trying to keep his breath
steady. He placed his tongue on the bottom of my cock and started
delivering an expert blow job. I moaned and started feeling like he had me
on edge.

I breathed in deeply, began to tense up, cried out, and unleashed a violent
set of ropes down Pete's throat. I was breathing heavily, standing on my
tiptoes. I was never really one for oral on me, but I had to give the man
his due -- that was an A+ blowjob.

He looked up at me, holding my freshly shaved balls in his hand. I nodded
and smiled broadly.

"Where did you learn that?" I asked contentedly, stroking his black-trimmed
beard.

He laughed, "I've just wanted to try it and pictured how you did it to me
that night."

"Well done! I should be ready again in about an hour," I smiled.

We headed off to the beach in blue Speedos and blue cover shorts. I
couldn't convince Pete to wear his cropped tank top. I didn't either. We
got some admiring looks from pretty girls in bikinis next to us. Pete
smiled and waved. They looked at each other and giggled. "Hey," they said
as they waved back.

"Come on, let's get in the water before they get any ideas," Pete told me.

There's something that gets me stirred up every time with a confident man
like Pete. He pulled his shorts off and, as some sort of show, bent his
knees slightly and had his ass and the largeness of his balls displayed as
he bent down to place his shorts on the towel. He left his sunglasses on
and walked to the water's edge in a cocky, almost arrogant way that only
left onlookers speechless and in love with the sight.

We spent most of the afternoon in the water, playing, swimming, and
standing and talking. We saw some nice-looking guys and even some really
hot-looking girls, but we never saw a pair of guys like us --
younger/older. Despite a great deal of sunscreen, by about 3 p.m., we were
looking a bit too red.

"You want to go in and have a nap or something?" Pete smiled at me.

"Something," I smiled back.

We exited the water together, still in sunglasses, and our speedos were
dripping wet. We drew a lot of attention from a fresh batch of
beachgoers. Girls and some guys followed us with their eyes to our
towels. There were a lot of open mouths, and the talking mostly stopped. We
grabbed our towels and dried whatever bit of water still clung to our
bodies and then put on our shorts. The show was over, and we sauntered back
to our rooms. Pete was definitely more comfortable with people looking at
us but not comfortable enough to touch me or put his arm on my shoulders. I
was OK with that because I didn't want the harassment that went along with
public displays.

"How about a shower together, then something, then a nap?" Pete suggested,
smiling at me.

"Perfect!"

Our sex that afternoon was gentle but rough when it mattered. Passionate
but raunchy when it needed to be. It was two men genuinely enjoying each
other. We settled in for a little nap with Pete's load in me and the sheets
sticky with my ejaculate all over them. I turned the AC down and snuggled
close to him for a well-earned nap. It was comforting having his big arms
wrapped around me, holding me tightly next to his body. It was just as sexy
hearing him lightly snore.

The following day, we took off for some jet skiing. I asked Pete if we
could wear our cropped tanks together. He didn't want to wear it, but I
convinced him that we'd be covered in a life vest anyhow. Begrudgingly, he
put it on.

"It doesn't even cover my lower belly," he moaned.

"Remember, the shorts showed some of your cheeks. Now you have no problem
showing your ass, do you? No, it doesn't cover your belly, but what it does
is show off your gorgeous abs and that hair traveling from your navel to
your crotch. That's what they are intended for -- to show off fantastic
bodies -- and you, sir, have one." He started laughing at me.

"You look pretty hot in yours, I got to admit! And for your information, I
don't like showing off my ass because I'm 42 years old, not because it
doesn't look great," he said. I chuckled at him.

I stopped counting, after a dozen, the catcalls we received as we walked
from the hotel to the jet ski rental. We wore our sunglasses again, and we
didn't look when we were whistled at or stopped by passersby. We just
smiled and kept going. I had to hand it to Pete. He took it like a winner
and didn't make faces or get annoyed at me about insisting we wear them.

We had a blast jet skiing. We went out reasonably deep -- well past where
we were required to stay, and the water and sun felt great. It made us
forget it was late February, and we rode until about two.

"You want any lunch?" Pete asked as we were walking back to the hotel.

A couple well-built college guys came up to us and asked if we'd join them
in a pickup game of beach volleyball. We would finish the group, so we
joined them. Both Pete and I were lucky to be on the same side. Our team
lost our first round but won the last two. It seemed like a natural time to
hug Pete, and he embraced me for just a second longer than would be
normally acceptable. Another guy on our team -- tall, tan, and pretty
handsome reached over, gave me a big hug, and whispered in my ear, "Do you
want to hook up later? I'm in room 205 at the Marriot on the beach."

"I can't. I'm with my dad," I whispered back.

My new friend backed up and said, "Sorry!" and extended his hand to shake
Pete's. "Good game! You and your son played well."

"Thanks," Pete replied, returning the handshake. He gave the guy a genuine
smile.

"What was that all about back there?" Pete asked me as we finished our walk
back to the hotel.

I stammered, stopped, and looked at the ground. "He wanted to hook up with
me."

"What does that even mean," Pete started, but by the time he finished the
question, I think he also arrived at the answer. "Oh! What did you tell
him?"

"I said, 'No, I'm with my dad'", I replied.

"If I wasn't here, would you have wanted to?" Pete lifted my chin up.

"I might have, but you are here, and I wouldn't do something like that to
you."

"C'mon, let's go to an early dinner. I'm starving!" Pete put his arm around
my shoulders.

"Me too! I had a great time with you today!" I was beaming.

"You're fun to be with, too! I feel your age again, almost. Let's go
somewhere nice -- get dressed up and show off our tans!" Pete laughed and
pulled me closer to him.

True to his word, as always, Pete followed through, and we dressed in our
matching suits and found ourselves at a five-star Mexican restaurant. It
was impressive in the dining room with an authentic mariachi band and
tuxedo-dressed waiters. The menu was broad and upscale, featuring loads of
fresh fish and other seafood with a Mexican twist. Pete ordered a bottle of
champagne after we finished our margaritas. I wondered what the celebration
was about.

"To you," he toasted me.

I cocked an eyebrow. He smiled at me.

"You've pulled me from a life of despair and sadness. I shouldn't be
either, but once I met you, I realized I was. I can't think of a happier
time in my life than now. I was proud when my daughters were born, but
that's a different type of happiness. They've grown up, and the house is
quiet again. You make these trips happier than I've been in a long time. I
hope I haven't appeared ridiculous to you."

I was taken aback by his emotional words. "You know you could never be
ridiculous to me. I haven't gotten to know many guys as well as I have with
you, but I like your 'type,' if I can say that without sounding bad --
because even then, you, Pete Walker, are more than a type to me. You are
athletic, passionate, intelligent, hip, sweet, and gorgeous. Who wouldn't
admire that? Maybe some people take that stuff for granted. I
don't. Ridiculous would be you throwing a hissyfit in your short shorts and
cut-off tank top in a place like this."

Pete laughed at me, "That would be ridiculous! I can promise I'll never do
that. You are too much for me sometimes. How did you end up so expressive?"

"I'm an English major," I replied non-plussed.

"You've got a delivery style that would be a riot in a courtroom. You ever
think of changing career plans?"

"I don't like lawyers, except for one," I winked at him while he just
howled, laughing.

I don't know if I was funny or if it was helping him feel a little more
confident about how I saw him.

Dinner arrived, and the conversation turned more serious.

"Look," Pete started, "I'm not going to ask about our time apart, and I
shouldn't expect anything like a commitment, but I will say just this. I
have no right to ask you to be faithful while I'm still married. That's not
fair. The only thing I ask is you don't do anything with anyone the day I
arrive. When we're living together, maybe we are monogamous because I'm not
looking around. I hope that I'll be enough to keep you occupied
there. We're not married, and you can do what you want, but I hope we can
have sex with you every day while we're together."

"That will be plenty for me," I promised. And it was a promise I knew I'd
gladly keep. "Well, maybe some days we can twice."

He shook his head and laughed again, "You and the sex on the brain!"

"Maybe if you weren't so good, I wouldn't be impatient about the next
time. You rock in bed!" I smiled.

He reached over and took my hand discreetly. "You really don't know what
you do to me, do you?"

We went back to our suite and sat on the balcony holding hands naked,
watching the people below partying and carrying on. I looked over at
Pete. He was nodding off, his head slumped down. I knew he was
sleeping. Poor guy, we had a pretty active day, and he had to be tired. I
got up and stood behind him and gently started massaging his shoulders. I
could hear him murmuring in his sleep, and I know it helped relax his
neck. I looked down on his nude body, and it was beautiful even from this
angle. I don't know how I got so lucky to have someone so perfect next to
me in bed every night for weeks. He reached up lazily with his one hand and
grabbed mine. He kissed my knuckles.

"What time is it, Champ?" he asked me sleepily.

"Time for us to go to bed, I think," I replied. He held my hand there for a
moment. It really was nothing that should evoke any feelings at all, yet it
made me feel even closer to him.

"Can you take me tonight?" Pete asked. I was surprised but felt honored to
be asked.

"You know I like you inside me," I started, "But yeah, I'd be happy to take
you!"

We got up and went to the bed. He lay down at the edge with his legs up. He
didn't need to tell me what he wanted, I knew.

"You liked that, huh?" He blushed and nodded.

"It was so hot, and the way you nailed me afterward, I still relive that
night in my head every day."

"So long as you still take me more often," I smiled at him.

I got to my knees and gently started munching his hole. He moaned like a
pornstar getting her cunt eaten out. He was panting, sucking in his breath,
moaning, and writhing on the bed. I held him firmly to not allow him to get
too far from my mouth. I licked and rubbed my mustache on the sweet spot
between his hole and the bottom of his balls. He wailed and began
quivering. I licked his taint and rubbed my beard on it gently, making sure
that my whiskers didn't hurt him. "Oh fuck, fuck, that's torture!" He
moaned, tossing his head back and forth.

"Does it hurt?" I asked, concerned.

"No, it feels so good, don't stop!" I went back to prepping him. Any ideas
of falling asleep while I was eating him out went out the open window. He
grunted he cried out, he moaned, and howled as I pleasured his hole,
getting him ready for mounting. I grabbed the lube bottle on the nightstand
and began not-so-gently fingering him. He wailed and shrieked in agonized
ecstasy. I knew I had him ready.

"I turned you into a little whore," I giggled at him.

"You're the only man in the world who can say that to me and not end up
with a black eye," he panted.

Without much ado, I began descending into him. His cries became more
frenzied, and his hands flailed around, trying to find which part of my
torso he wanted to hold on to. He settled on my waist and helped guide me
into him. I didn't need much help, but I liked that he was so into getting
fucked. He was trembling and shaking; he had a frightened and wanton look
in his eyes, so vulnerable and letting me be the one who made him that way.

While I wasn't rough, I wasn't gentle either and started long dicking
him. He melted and began purring. "Oh fuck," he kept repeating over and
over. I knew I was hitting his prostate because his cock would jump and
bead precum in sync with my strokes. He was opening and closing his eyes,
but most of the time, it looked like they had rolled into the back of his
head. He let out a frustrated groan and grabbed hold of his cock. He looked
up at me with puppy dog eyes and began steadily working over his cock. His
balls would tighten, then loosen, then draw again. He had me laying serious
precum in him by watching how horny he had gotten. I knew I was close. I
knew he was close.

"I'm about to come," I moaned. He clamped down on me and shot a strong rope
of come over his shoulder. He opened his mouth and couldn't speak. He
genuinely looked terrified. I loved how much tighter he got, and that sent
me over the edge. I damned near blacked out as I sent my seed into his
guts. He groaned. I saw stars. After nearly passing out, I got one last
horny burst and fucked the rest of my sperm into him violently. He shrieked
his pleasure as he dumped the last of his balls onto his beautiful belly.

I withdrew slowly and collapsed on him. He wrapped his arms around my back
and his legs around my waist. We were rapidly slowing down our panting.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck," he whispered in my ear.

"What?" I asked, kissing the back of his neck and ear.

"I never ever pictured myself getting fucked, and you turned me into -- as
you say -- a whore. I really wanted to come like you do without touching
yourself. I had to grab and finish, though."

"You're no whore. That's just dirty talk. You make me feel like a real man
when you get that way. Like I know how to use my cock!"

"Champ, you know how to use everything the right way. Fuck, I know you
don't like me saying that word, but I would have never done that with
anyone but you. You should be damned proud of yourself, son."

"You can say fuck while we're having sex, I don't mind. You are a sexual
beast. I more than like you."

He pulled my face away from his neck, "What?" he looked into my eyes
intently.

"You're a sexual beast!" I mumbled again.

"No, the other part," he was insistent.

I wouldn't be shy, so I looked intently back at him, "I more than like
you!"

He cradled my head in his hand and pulled it to his chest. I could hear him
take a few deep breaths, and I felt his teardrops on my head. I tried to
pull away, but he held me firmly in place. We lay there for a while like
that.

"C'mon, let's get a shower. We're both a sweaty mess!"


The following morning, Pete was up long before I was. I could hear room
service delivering breakfast, and I heard him flipping the newspaper. The
TV was on low, but all I heard was Spanish, with a commercial here and
there in English. I could smell fresh coffee, and I knew it was time to get
up. I got out of bed and pulled on a pair of pajama bottom shorts. I
stretched in the doorway.

"The man of the year," Pete chirped at me, smiling broadly.

I went over and kissed him. "Hey, good morning! How did you sleep last
night?"

I sat beside him on the couch, and he tousled my hair, "Like a baby! Damn,
you were great!"

"You know it is both of us that have great sex with each other." I kissed
him again on the nose.

He might have heard me getting up because there was a cup of steaming
coffee waiting for me. "You know how to spoil a boy, don't you?" I put my
arm around his shoulders, holding his neck in the palm of my hand, "What's
going on today?"

He reached over and flipped the remote to some local weather channel and
grimaced, "It looks like on-and-off rain for most of the afternoon." Then
he showed me an ad he saw in the paper, "so I thought this might be a good
time since it's mainly indoors."

It was an ad for tours at a few of the churches. "I've heard they're
beautiful, and they have a tour that takes a bus to three different ones."

"Sure, that sounds great, actually. I don't want to be at the beach in the
rain, but I don't want to be cooped up here all day. Although if we could
repeat last night again. . ."

He leaned over and kissed me, "You and your sex brain." He started
laughing.

"Here, I thought this would look nice on us," Pete said, holding up a
cream-colored satin shirt, "and maybe a nice pair of khakis." I was messing
with my hair in the mirror when Pete came up behind me and wrapped his arms
around my stomach.

"You look great, but you might be able to show off a little more of that
beautiful chest," as he undid one more button.

He put on a Panama Jack hat, and for the first time since we'd been
together, he looked his age. I wasn't put off by it, and it made him look
more sophisticated but still casual, even though we would probably be the
best-dressed tourists there today. His khakis were tight on his ass like
mine were, and the wider-than-usual belt made him look like Indiana
Jones. His shirt was opened across his chest, and it showed off his
chiseled, hairless cleavage. His muscular arms were pushing the limits of
the fabric, and he had rolled up the lower part of the sleeves to display
some nice muscular-looking forearms. I looked up at him as he helped roll
my sleeves up like his.

"What?" He asked me as he took over.

"You are incredible! I'm glad we're here together." I reached up and kissed
him fiercely.

"You're pretty incredible yourself," he smiled afterward.

On the way to the last church, we were on a bus, sitting next to some other
students. One particularly good-looking guy kept looking at us. He asked
the person sitting next to us if he could take their seat.

"Hey, I thought it was you two," he reached out to shake Pete's hand. Both
of us looked at him and each other. "I'm Zach, from beach volleyball
yesterday."

"Hey, nice to see you again," Pete said, returning the handshake.

"You guys rocked it at the match yesterday," Zach was enthusiastic. "It's
supposed to be nice tomorrow, and I was wondering if you'd consider joining
us again. We need great players."

"Sure," Pete said before I could answer, "Hey Zach, would you like to join
my son and me for lunch today? We can go out somewhere or even have room
service at our hotel." I casually looked at Pete to see what he was up
to. I couldn't read what he was doing.

"Sure," Zach replied eagerly.

While we finished the last church, Pete put his arm around my shoulders,
"Champ, he really likes you. Maybe we could have a little fun together this
afternoon?"

"What? But he thinks you are my dad. And I don't want to cheat on you in
front of him. No, let me rephrase that: I don't want to cheat on you,
period."

"If we're both participating, is it cheating?"

"You are definitely a lawyer. Hmmmm. . . we'd have to tell him the truth
about us. Do you think he'd go for it?"

"He might, he's smitten with you, and I would just be the icing. Look,
there's no pressure. I'm not looking to replace you. I just thought it
might be something to experience together. I never did that while she and I
were having sex, but I did think about it."

"With a guy or a woman?" I asked.

He turned momentarily red and chuckled, "I think you know the answer."

It takes a while for things to sink in for me. But it was dawning on me
that Pete had desired men for a lot longer than a chance meeting with
me. He had remained celibate even though he had deep desires for men. I
felt terrible that he didn't experience that, and I was determined that
we'd go forward with this plan to help him satisfy that pent-up need. I was
lucky to know my sexuality. Even if it was private, I lived it as I wanted
to. I believed him that this wasn't some sort of buffet, trying everything
to see which was his favorite.

"OK, only if you are comfortable with this. Are there any limits?" I asked
Pete.

"No, except that he has to know this is only fun, nothing regular, nothing
romantic."

When we met up with Zach, he was beaming. I could tell he was a little
anxious, and he said he'd be OK coming to our suite for lunch. The rain
didn't let up, so we took a taxi from the tour office back to the
hotel. Despite trying to remain dry, we all ended up wet. We got to the
suite and let Zach go in first. He looked around, astonished at how nicely
it was set up.

"Zach, you can use the bathroom and as many towels as you like to dry
off. See if you can find him something he could wear, son. I think we
brought enough shorts and t-shirts for the trip," Pete said.

We changed in the bedroom while Zach was drying off. I rustled through the
luggage for shorts and a T-shirt that might fit him. I ended up with a
shirt from Pete and a pair of shorts. Pete had slipped into a pair of cover
shorts, but he was covering only his ass and groin. He didn't have any
underwear on and no shirt. He grabbed the clothes from me and took them to
the couch. "Hey buddy, we found something for you." Zach opened the door
and had a towel wrapped around his waist.

"Do you mind if I just change right here?" Zach let the towel slip, and he
displayed a magnificent ass as he slipped into a pair of shorts that left
no room for the imagination. He pulled the T-shirt over his head and turned
around. He looked nervously at me and took a long, hard, admiring stare at
Pete.

"I'm going to call room service and get them to dry out your clothes," Pete
said, going to the bathroom to collect Zach's wet laundry. "I'm hungry --
anything for lunch, guys?"

"I'll have a burger and coke," Zach said. I nodded at Pete, "Same with a
Diet Coke."

"Have a seat, Zach, make yourself comfortable," Pete motioned for him to
sit on the couch. And he picked up the phone and ordered lunch and asked
for laundry to come up."

"So, what did you think about the tour?" Zach said, trying to break the
ice.

"I enjoyed myself," Pete said as he sat across from Zach. He was
manspreading on purpose and giving Zach a show.

"So where is it you go to school?" I asked, trying to be nonchalant.

"LSU, pre-med. What do you do, Mr. Walker?" Zach answered and asked.

"I'm an attorney working in central Virginia and DC for the next year or
so," Pete answered. "Hey, let's cut through the awkwardness. I'm his daddy,
not his dad, and we invited you here to see if you'd like to maybe do a
three-way."

I was shocked at how blunt Pete was. I smiled at Zach, who smiled back and
looked at Pete and smiled at him.

"Really? The three of us? I've never done that before. Damn, you're both
hot. I'd love to!" Zach enthused.

"We're group virgins, too," I said, "This is a first for us. What do you
think you'd like to do?"

We talked a lot about what would turn each of us on; lunch arrived, and
after a few bites each, all three of us were in bed naked.

Zach lay on the bed, and I positioned my mouth at his hole. He had a cute
ass, and I wanted to eat it out and see if I could get him moaning
too. Pete had his cock in Zach's mouth and was sucking on my cock. Zach
began moaning almost immediately as my tongue found his willing hole. I
heard him gagging on Pete's throbbing cock. I was leaking a steady stream
of precum into Pete's mouth as he intensified his suction on me. I had Zach
out of control, he had a cock in his mouth, so he couldn't do much vocally,
but Pete would pull out every now and then, and the boy was screaming and
writhing on the bed. I had to be very forceful to keep him in one place;
otherwise, he'd been all over the bed. Pete was doing a superb job of
giving me a blowjob that I pulled out to stop from coming.

I knew Zach was hot and ready, and I got up and lubed my cock slightly, and
pushed against his little pucker. It gave way relatively easily, but he
still had an excellent tightness. I was so horny that I was doing a
gymnastics move that allowed my cock to fuck him while I was balancing on
my hands. I don't know what happened to me, but I was beginning to like
topping. I knew I was about to come and withdrew, dragging a long, steady
trail of precum with me. Zach groaned. I think he was close, too.  "Would
you like my dad's big dick in you? He's going to make you nut while he
fills your guts with his come. Do you want that? You want to be our cumdump
tonight?" Zach blushed bright red and moaned and nodded. Pete slapped me on
the ass and took his place at the waiting boy's hole.

Now, I'm not small by any means -- I've been told I'm the perfect eight,
but Pete was a man nearly twice my age and had a lot more girth and length
than I did. He didn't give Zach any warning and sunk right into him in one
solid push. Zach wailed when Pete hit the hilt. He grabbed onto one of
Pete's muscular forearms and began working on his own raging cock with his
other hand. Zach not only had a nice ass, but he had a jockish body and
very broad shoulders, almost a football player type. I knew very few
football players who bottomed, but this guy was born to be a bottom. He
gasped every time Pete not-so-gently plowed into him. He damn near
hyperventilated. I could see the makings of a great load building in Pete
-- his muscles tensing up. He started that determined, steady plow, and I
could hear him taking deep breaths. For his part, Zach was lost in getting
rammed by a hot older guy. I don't think he heard Pete when he moaned, "I'm
going to come!"

Pete grabbed Zach's hips and violently rammed his spurting cock into
him. Zach finally snapped out of it and realized what was happening; he was
so in awe of Pete his hand dropped from his cock.

"Breed him, Dad, that's what he wants -- he wants your come," I said to
Pete, which seemed to egg him on to continue plowing long after his seed
was in Zach's guts.

Pete pulled out and showed the gaping hole to me, "He wants both our seed,
son. Give it to him!"

I didn't even give Zach a chance to catch his breath. I was in him, and I
was the prize he was here for, after all. I knew that feeling Pete's load
in there and nailing a pretty boy football player's hole would get me off
quickly. I leaned down and kissed Zach very confidently on the lips. I was
arrogant about it, like he didn't deserve it. Pete grabbed the back of my
hair and pulled me off him.

"Breed him, son! He's not your girlfriend." Pete stood behind me, and my
ass would ram against Pete's hips as I pulled back. I could feel Pete's
cock hardening again, and soon it was slicking up my crack. Pete leaned
down and kissed me on the neck. "Fill him, Champ. He wants to go home with
your load in him."

Zach couldn't take any more listening to us making degrading comments about
him. With a long howl and squeal, he began coming all over himself after
the first volley sounded like it pierced the headboard. His balls had
tightened and were dancing as he shot out his load. He clamped down on me,
and with a low growl, I sent the contents of my balls deep inside him. He
was shaking terribly when I pulled out.

"Are you OK, Zach?" Pete asked concerned.

"I'm more than fucking OK, you two are phenomenal!" Zach panted.

Pete put his arm over my shoulder, and we both looked down at this beast of
a guy on the bed filled with both our loads. I think Pete was proud of me
in some weird way. I knew I admired the way he threw that fuck to Zach. We
sat next to Zach on opposite sides and helped him up to sit. He put one arm
around each of our necks. He was still spasming, quivering, and panting. I
rubbed his inner thighs, and Pete massaged his neck.

"I've had lots of sex, but that had to be the best thing I've ever done,"
Zach said as he looked at me.

"Do you want to get a shower? I'm taking my boy to dinner tonight. He's
worked up an appetite!" Pete asked casually enough but stern enough to let
Zach know the fun was over.

"I think I need one," Zach said as he got off the bed.

Pete slapped his ass and said, "Yeah, you do, you filthy cumdump." Zach
turned about four shades of red but smiled, enjoying the putdown.


Pete and I got dressed for dinner after a long, hot shower with each
other. Pete started by soaping me up and washing me off, and then he turned
around and let me do the same to him. I don't know, but it almost seemed
like a ceremonial cleaning off Zach from our bodies. I didn't mind it
because I got to hold on to his hard body for a while. Nothing sexual, no
hard ons, just holding him close to me and resting my face on his strong
back. He held my hands as I slowly went up and down his abs. It could have
been sexual, but it wasn't. It felt like my way of honoring the man I was
with.

"So, what did you think about today?" Pete asked me after we had ordered
dinner.

"It was a first time for me, and it was hot, but I would have rather
delivered my load to you."

"You know, I think the same thing. He was cute and all, but he's not you. I
don't think anyone could ever compare."

"He had a hot body, for sure. That didn't turn you on?" I asked him.

"You have a hot body. He had a hot body but a different type of
hot. Something nice to touch but not hang on to.

"I'm smitten with you," Pete continued. "I can't help myself. I keep
wondering when the bubble will burst, but I can't think of anything better
than being with you anymore." He reached over to grab my hand. He didn't
look around this time, and he wasn't discreet.

I did the looking for us and realized no one was watching. I looked at him
deep in his soulful eyes and thought I would melt. He had a half smile, and
something about the lighting made him perfect, but I almost always found
him perfect. He was so handsome in his tight satin shirt with a little bit
of his nipples firming and hugging his chest so perfectly. His hair was
perfect, and his face was perfect. His damn beard and mustache were
perfect.

"I think I'd be proud of you if I were your son," I said. His eyes opened
wide, and his mouth dropped. "But I'm glad I'm not your son because I
wouldn't ever fully be able to enjoy you like I enjoy you. Not even just
sexually, but everything about you. I could never talk to my own dad like I
talk to you about school, careers, training, and stuff. You know, I can't
think of anything better than being with you, either."

He rubbed my knuckles with his thumb. He wasn't sad or even on the verge of
tears, but he was more somber.

"I'm not your dad, but I am proud of you. You really should think about
going to visit your family for at least a long weekend sometime this
summer. No, no, hold on, just listen a minute. I know you hate it there,
and I'm not saying you that you need to stay long. But you should at least
see them, let them see what a strong, smart man you've grown into. You're
so young still, but you've really grown up since we've been together. That
makes me proud of you. They'd be proud of you, too."

"I'll think about it," I said as dinner arrived.


Like every day of our vacation, Pete was up busy reading the paper,
watching the news, and ordering breakfast. It was cooler last night than
usual, and we both went to bed in matching pajamas. I must have gotten warm
during the night because my top was on the floor when I woke up. The sun
was shining brightly, and I put my hand over my face to try to block it. I
rubbed the sleep from my eyes and jumped out of bed.

"Hey, Champ, good morning," Pete smiled at me from the couch. He hadn't
changed out of his PJs, either. "I got you something a little spicy this
morning." He said as he poured me a cup of coffee.

I lifted up the plate cover and saw something that looked like Huevos
rancheros. I kissed him.

"Thank you, they look delicious!"

Pete was so sweet like that, doing nice little things that really, in the
big picture, wouldn't have amounted to a hill of beans otherwise. But I
liked that he was thoughtful enough to try to surprise me without it
seeming like he was trying too hard.

"So do you, all brawny and hairless." Pete played with my messy morning
hair and then reached over and tweaked a nipple. I laughed, grabbed his
hand, and kissed it.

"Speaking of something spicy, there's a little package around here
somewhere delivered for you this morning." Pete started looking under the
newspapers and shortly found a little white box.

I looked at him sideways, "What is this, and who had it sent?" I asked
suspiciously.

Out of the box slipped a pair of swimming trunks, much like the material
used for the trainers I usually wore. But this was thinner, and I held them
up and realized they were much smaller and lower cut.

"I wonder who sent me this?" I said sarcastically. "It must be some admirer
who hasn't seen my goods yet." I held them up to the light and shook my
head. "You can see right through these," I was genuinely shocked. "And
they're cut so low, my bush, as well as my ass crack, are going to be out
on full display!"

"I hope so," Pete said, standing up, "then they will look like mine." He
lowered his PJ bottoms.

I'm pretty liberal, and I can appreciate a good body even if the clothing
is a bit slutty, but even this pushed my limits. My mouth fell open. His PJ
bottoms fell off, and he slowly took off the top. Pete is already perfect
in every way, but somehow, these trunks amplified that perfection. These
trunks left absolutely no room for the imagination of his soft size, the
size of his balls, and how hairy his bush was. They had a skimpy little
cord that held them up. Pete wore contoured Speedos, but this cut wasn't
contouring. It was spray painting.

"Oh my god," I finally said, "If you didn't put them on for me, I wouldn't
have believed how they looked on you. That might be slutty, but you are
fucking hot."

"Now, put yours on," Pete said. "I've rented beach chaise lounges for this
afternoon, and I thought a day at the beach with these should finish our
perfect tans."

I squirmed into my pair. When I finished putting them on, Pete drew in his
breath and catcalled me.

"You look fantastic! No, seriously, I can't believe how they hug you in all
the right places."

He took me by the hand to the mirror. I couldn't believe the fit. They were
tight in the right places and hugged my stuff perfectly. We both looked
like models. I knew we were in for an afternoon of awkward glances and
lusty eyes.

"Ah fuck it, you look so good in yours. I'll wear mine too, just to show
you up," I said, rubbing his belly hard with my open hand. He grabbed it
and then hugged me and held me close to him. I started getting hard.

"Mmmmmm, no sexual stuff today while we're wearing these," I laughed. He
kissed me, and we grabbed our towels and slipped into our shorts. If there
was a day for those shorts, today was it.

The catcalls and whistles were too much today for some reason. We were
almost to the beach chairs when I heard some jockish guy say "Fags" as we
passed by.

I spun around. Apparently, Pete didn't hear it. "What the fuck did you
say?"

"I called you fags," some zitty frat guy with some extra weight replied.

He went to punch me, and I caught his hand, head-bumped him, and kicked his
leg out from under him. He fell to the ground, whimpering. "You don't have
to be a dick," he mimicried.

"Neither do you, you want more," I held up my fist, looking menacing. Pete
grabbed my hand, but I shook it off. "The only way to deal with a dickhead,
is to treat them like one."

Fat kid got up, still looking at me, and said, "Sorry, I don't want any
trouble."

"Then don't call people' fags'," I said, mock charging him. Pete pulled me
back.

"It's OK, he's got the message," Pete said, trying to calm me down.

"I'm fine," I said, looking around, and then to Pete. "I'm fine!"

The crowd that gathered dispersed, and Pete and I sat down on our chairs.

"When the hell did you get so tough?" Pete asked me.

I laughed. "I'm not tough, I'm just not fucking around with some bully."

He laughed and then joked that maybe I could give him some lessons. I was
still seething but not so mad that I didn't enjoy the time out with Pete. I
put some sunscreen on and slipped out of my shorts. I received a few
claps. I sat back down and realized that everyone around us had stopped
talking. Pete sighed and got up and took his off as well. He received a
bunch of hoots and hollers from nearly everyone in our vicinity. He was
blushing and quickly sat back down.

I laughed at him, "How do you always get a round of applause for taking
your shorts off?"

"I don't get it. I think I'm just ordinary," he replied.

"You are not at all ordinary, sir."

"Neither are you, you little badass. Hey, we got a gawker. Lay out like a
model on your chair and show off your stuff. He's coming right for you."

Pete had gotten into this showing-off thing much more than he wanted me to
believe. I thought it was funny that the man who had so much confidence
when we first met now blushed when people clapped for him as he took off a
pair of himbo shorts. I just played along with the game because he seemed
to get a kick out of it. I stretched my arm above my head and flexed,
pretending to try to reach the top part of the frame while pushing up my
groin in the air and laying with a big, uncomfortable arch in my back. It
worked. The guy Pete said was coming stopped by, looked down at me, and
muttered something sensual in Spanish. I looked at his hand and noticed he
had a wedding band. I pointed to it and shook my head. I think he cursed as
he walked away.

Pete giggled at me and said, "Well, with that pose, you gave him boner
material for tonight. Probably the hardest she'll have had in months."

I laughed, "You're crude. I am becoming a bad influence on you!"

"Never!" he said, "You're the best person I know or have known in the past
ten years."

We bantered for a bit longer, and I asked him if he wanted to get in the
water for a little bit. We were fortunately steps from the water's edge, so
we walked quickly so as not to cause another commotion. When we got
waist-deep, I reached for his ribcage and pulled him to me. I kissed him
right where we were standing. I think I shocked him. He asked me what I was
doing.

"I'm letting you know that I'm OK being gay. I'm letting you know I'm good
with us. And I don't care if anyone or any bully doesn't like it.  I'm
proud of being around you. I'm not going to go scream it from the balcony
tonight. No flags or parades. I'm not going to kiss you every time we're in
public, but I wanted you to know what I am thinking and what I'm feeling
about us."

He kissed me back. "I'm so proud of you now and always. You know I can't be
out like you, simply because of the consequences to my career. You can kiss
me more often when it's right, especially here since we don't know
anyone. People who think you're my son might be a bit confused. But who
cares? You make my heart beat faster, Champ, er. . . .I mean Thom," he
pulled my hand up to his chest over his heart.

"Don't stop calling me 'Champ.' I've gotten used to it, and it's special
between us."

He kissed my hand.

"Hey, you guys," we both turned to see who was yelling and if it was at us.

Zach came running to the water's edge. He was in a Speedo, too, and said,
"C'mon, I've been looking for you two. The match is about to start!" We
needed to remember the match. He was excited he had found us. We left the
water and walked a few yards behind him.

"He does have a nice ass," I said.

"No, don't even. You are all mine tonight!" I grabbed his hand, and we got
to the play area and formed our teams.

There were at least a half dozen guys in Speedos, but none were as sexy or
as revealing as the ones Pete and I were wearing. I saw a few of the other
team pointing at us and looking at us with admiration.

We played six rounds and won all but one of them. Our team was jubilant,
and the captain said he was buying beer for the winners. The losers were
downcast. Pete approached the captain, "Hey, I don't want to usurp your
authority but look at them over there. They're dejected, and they look like
they could use a beer or two, as well. I can help with the bill if you
want."

The captain looked at Pete for a minute, not angrily or arrogantly, and
then finally nodded, "You're right," he said, extending his hand,
"Mister?. . ."

"Walker," Pete said, returning the handshake.

"Beer for everyone. We all played well." The other team was happy and
cheered.

We all stood around at a little lido bar on the beach where the beer was
chilled in a big tub on ice. There were a lot of conversations about some
of the more exciting plays during the tournament and how they compared to
some of the teams back at school. Then, on to dread that the week was
ending. Pete and I were finishing our last beer when the captain came up to
him. Pete reminded him that he'd pay half the tab. "No, don't worry about
that, Mr. Walker. It's fine, but I did have one thing before you go. I
don't normally say shit like this, but you've got some big balls."

Pete looked at him and then at me, then back at him, "Excuse me?"

"I thought I was in good shape, but damn, for you to have a college-age son
and pull that off," he said, pointing to the swimsuit, "well fucking done!
You've got my respect, and I'll gladly pay the bar tab. Thanks for joining
us today."

Pete laughed, thanked him, and put his arm over my shoulders. "C'mon,
Champ, dad needs a nap before dinner."

I wrapped my arm around his waist, and we returned to the chairs for our
towels and shorts.

"Fuck it," Pete said as he had his shorts at his feet, then picked them up
and wrapped them in his towel, "We don't need to cover up today." Despite
the stares and looks, and the 'ooohs' and 'ahhhs,' we walked back to our
hotel room and through the lobby wearing just our slinky swimsuits. When we
were finally in the privacy of our own space, I grabbed him by his waist,
pulled him close to me, and gave him a passionate kiss. He kissed me back
and pushed his groin towards mine. I felt him stiffen, and I was hardening
up as well. I held his waist firmly and moved our growing cocks against
each other's through the material. He moaned and worked with me to bump and
grind against each other, frotting our way through foreplay.

I got down on my knees and pulled his rigid cock out of his designer
swimsuit, and started sucking him with some big sloppy wet spit. I got back
up, turned around, pulled down my suit, and pushed against him.

"No," he said, "I'll never fuck you that way -- it's too impersonal. I want
to see you and watch you. We're so far past just sex now. I make love to
you every time now. C'mon, Champ, let's go to bed."

We picked up our suits and then threw them on the bed as he lay me down on
it. He grabbed the lube bottle and slicked up both of us. I was more than
ready to have him fuck me senseless. I think he knew that because while he
wasn't rough, he slid into me without any sort of our usual warming up. It
felt good; he smelled like the beach, and I laid back, picturing him in his
swimsuit. Coincidentally, his suit was right by my head. I reached over for
it, put it on my nose, and took a big intoxicating whiff. I got super hard,
and Pete could sense that his smell had done something for me.

He got up on the bed on his knees and moved his torso closer to me while
expertly staying in me, not missing a beat. He reached high above my head
and held the edge of the mattress. It gave me the perfect place to put my
nose into his armpits. I breathed him in and went blank for a moment. I
started licking his pits, and he began groaning and becoming more intense
as he fucked me. I licked his nipples, which answered by firming up and
then moved my tongue to the perfect roundness of his lower pec muscle. I
licked his cleavage and then onto the other pec. He wasn't ripe by any
means, but he had a nice bit of sweatiness that I enjoyed cleaning off
him. I had never felt that way about my other partners, but I wanted his
essence. It made me feel more connected to him.

My oral stimulation of his beautiful chest, armpits, and shoulders sent
Pete into a frenzy. I could feel him thicken significantly, and his strokes
were now accentuated with a deliberate pounding and slight stopping. His
hips sort of flared out, and when he pulled up, he paused for a half second
before sending his wedding night hard cock into me. I was grunting and
taking his thrusts like a trooper. We both knew we didn't need to announce
anything because his tremendous hardness told both of us that it was time.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuck!" he screamed as I could feel heavy single shots of come
hitting my insides.

I counted four intense volleys before letting out a scream myself, "Fuck me
hard, stud!"

My wish was his command, and he fucked me like a madman grunting and
howling like rutting wolves. If I could get knocked up, this was the orgasm
that would have done it. I shot all over his chest and beautiful abs. I
whimpered like a beat dog with him still in me and me holding onto his big
arms.

He withdrew and fell on top of me, panting and laughing. I started laughing
too, although I didn't know why.

"I'm sorry, that was the biggest stress relief right now, and I can't
control myself," he apologized for laughing.

I moved my hands to his muscular back and held him tight. I could hear his
panting subsiding with his face next to my ear, and he rolled over off me
and lay next to me.

"I am sorry, really. It's been so stressful today in many ways, and this
session was the biggest release of all that stress."

"What was stressful? We had a good time." I asked, confused.

"I had the best time with you like I always do, but the swimsuits, the
fight you almost got into, the tournament, the captain telling me I had
balls, it all bundled together weirdly to stress me out."

"Maybe the newness of all this is stressing you out, too," I said, rubbing
his face with my hand. "You don't have to be stressed about me; I'm the
last thing to be stressed about."

"You never stress me. But I stress about you. I don't want to mess anything
up. "I would hate for something I did to end what we've been doing
together." Pete lay his head on the palm of his hand and turned his body
towards me. "And not just this," he said as he grabbed my soft cock. Then
he grabbed his swimsuit on the bed and put it over my face. I started
stiffening quickly.

"What is that about?" Pete asked, genuinely perplexed.

"I don't know exactly. It's comfort. Your smell comforts me when we're
together, and when we're not, smelling something of yours comforts me if I
need it. I can smell you when you're even in the next room, not stink, just
your scent. Maybe I'm too much of an animal."

Pete laughed and brought me close to his chest and rubbed my hip and ass
cheeks, "You're no animal until you're about to shoot. I never knew sex
could be this good. I've done more with you than I could have ever dreamed
of with. . ."

"Her. . ." I finished his sentence, "You don't have to dance around it with
me. I'm not angry. I'm not hurt. I'm enjoying time with you!"


We both woke up early the next morning, the last full day of the trip. I
had laid next to Pete all night, and I never knew comfort and bliss like I
did when his big arms were around me, and I could feel him breathing softly
against my back. I interlocked the fingers of his hand that he had planted
on my stomach overnight. He gently snored sometimes, and maybe another day
or time, it would have annoyed me, but not last night. I could feel his
beard tickling the back of my neck. He woke me up by kissing my neck so
gently, so tenderly, it gave me goosebumps, and he knew I was awake.

"How long have you been up?" I whispered.

"Twenty minutes or so. Go back to sleep if you want. I'm just enjoying
this." Pete replied.

"I'm loving this," I shivered. We lay there for another half an hour with
him just adoring me with his lips. It could have been sexual, but it
wasn't. I didn't harden up, neither did he. He simply wanted to plant
kisses all over me, and I lay there forcing myself to not interrupt him by
getting horny. When he slowed, I turned over and took his face. I kissed
him deeply. He held me closer and kissed me back. I ran my fingers through
his messy hair and rubbed his eyebrow with my thumb. He purred, closed his
eyes, and had a contented smile. He allowed me to adore him. I kissed his
chin and rubbed his temples. I traced the hairline on his forehead with my
fingers and kept kissing him on the nose. I blew little puffs of air on his
earlobe and kissed his neck below his ear. I looked down his torso, which
was my mistake. His cock was beginning to stir, which caused me to
harden. He could feel mine starting to bounce against his.

He laughed, "I wondered when that would happen."

He rolled onto his back and raised his legs in the air. In all of our
encounters, Pete had never directly said to me, "Fuck me," and I knew when
he made this move, it was his way of telling me that he wanted to bottom. I
fingered in some lube at his beautiful hole, put some on me, and pushed
into him. He groaned and panted but started loosening a little and pulled
up his legs a little further to allow me in deeper. I must have hit
something I hadn't before because he made a painful face, and I pulled back
quickly.

"I don't think I'm ready for you that deep," he said, drawing his breath.

"Put your legs down, stud. You're enough just like that."

He lowered his legs, and I began throwing him great solid strokes. He was
looking up at me with lust and adoration. I stiffened a little more and
sort of widened my hips and got primal. It was just my cock and his hole. I
glided in and out like a machine, and Pete began gasping and panting. I
could feel it in my groin. I was about to come. I slammed into him
fiercely, and he began to wail. I barely had a warning that I was going to
unload. He definitely didn't. I gasped for air myself as a guttural orgasm
overtook me. Pete begged me to keep going, and he continued to pump on his
turgid cock. I could see his face panicked, his balls drew up, and he began
spilling his load onto himself. He was cooing by the time his balls had
finally unloaded.

I lay down next to Pete, breathing heavily. He reached over and rubbed my
chest and abs. I stretched my hands behind my head and lay there panting.

"You are a stud," Pete said. I stretched my neck over and kissed him on the
forehead.

"You're perfect. You get me every time," I replied. "I'm feeling like I've
been lazy. Did you want to go do some laps together? Maybe something to get
me back to feeling like it won't be so hard on Monday getting back in the
pool -- fifty?"

"Sure, let's get them done before breakfast! Then another day just laying
on the beach?

"We could do that, but have you ever been snorkeling before?" I asked.

"No, but I could give that a try. Sounds fun!"

Pete started pulling on his trainers. I held his skimpy trunks on my
finger. "No sir, we are going out full gay guys today. We did it yesterday
and bounced around playing volleyball; we can do laps in these!"

He smirked at me.

"And we're snorkeling and laying out in them, so don't get any ideas."

"Yes, sir," he laughed at me. He grabbed us both towels, and we headed to
the hotel pool. A few people were sitting around, and maybe I had become
jaded, but I didn't even pay attention to the attention we drew. I could
have quickly gone down the stairs into the water, but I was feeling
cocky. My balls were empty, but I could feel them filling up again, and it
made me arrogant. I went to the deep end and dived in, even though there
was a sign that said "NO DIVING." I swam out near the top of the water and
glided to the surface. It felt good. Pete was standing at the side of the
pool, staring at me, his mouth open. He got into the pool next to where I
was.

"That was beautiful, so graceful and athletic," he said, "You're
beautiful!"

"Thank you! It's nice in here today," I said, "let's bang these out and get
some breakfast."

Pete never ceased to amaze me; without any extra effort, we pushed through
50 laps in a half hour.


After breakfast, we set off to find a snorkeling rental. The place was
crowded, but we finally got our gear and went on a boat with another ten
people. We weren't far from shore, but the water was clear blue, and you
could see below. I was excited to see what was under us. We slipped out of
our shorts and laid them on the towels we brought.

I slid off the boat's edge into the water with my goggles and tube. I felt
the water crashing next to me, and there was my stud. Even though goggles
distort things, he even looked great underwater. I swam down to the bottom,
only ten feet below the surface. The water was crystal clear, and the sun
was beating hard enough to give everything a daylight glow underneath. I
thought I had found the day's treasure when I saw a quarter glistening in
the sand and swam down to pick it up. We spent the next two hours diving
below and swimming around a little reef.

When we dried off and sat on our towels, Pete leisurely put his arm around
me as we made the little trip back to shore. He was trying to be as out as
he was comfortable with, and it made me proud.


After laying out for most of the afternoon, we returned to the room for a
short nap. When we finally woke up, the sun had just set. It was later than
we planned. I was disappointed we slept so long, but Pete shrugged it
off. "Why don't we go to dinner and then to a club for some dancing?"

"I want to get dressed up like business guys," I said, "but I'm a terrible
dancer."

"Me too, but so what? I'll be there with you."

We dressed in our standard going out suit. "You look incredible," I walked
over to Pete and pretended that I was fixing his already perfect tie.

Pete took my hands and held them together in his, and kissed them, "You are
incredible," he said.

We sat at the bar, and Pete ordered us a few drinks. We danced to a few
popular songs, and he was right; Pete was not the dancer. It was OK since
he was with me, and I did even worse. We finished the evening dancing a
slow song that a lot of couples were dancing to. I loved having his arms
holding me at my waist, and I could hold his shoulders. No one actually
seemed to mind that two gay men were dancing so close together. I had my
face next to his, and it felt wonderful being next to him.  It was the
perfect ending to a perfect week.

We spent the night in bed, wrapped in each other's embrace. I was
enthralled with the week we spent together. I knew I would miss him for the
next month as he had a lot of work to do to prepare for spending the next
six months in Virginia. I was excited that I would get to spend every night
with him and get to work with him. Spring break was something both of us
needed to reset from every day and spend some more time bonding.  I was
really looking forward to the upcoming summer!

On the flight home, we were somber but not emotional. Pete grabbed my hand
early in the flight, and he never let it go until we disembarked. He
stopped at a car kiosk and got a car. I looked at him, somewhat confused.

"You might have to be back in class tomorrow, but I have a few things I
need to work on while I'm here, and I'm leaving Monday afternoon. I have a
room at the Marriott. Do you want to spend the night with me?"

I hugged him tightly, "You know I do!" I was overjoyed.

"Let's drop what you don't need off at the dorm, and then we'll check in
and get some dinner."

After checking in, we dressed for dinner and found a charming little bistro
and had a few appetizers.

"I guess I wasn't starving after all," Pete said.

"I wasn't either, but it was excellent," I said.

"Pete? Pete Walker," we heard a voice from behind us.

Pete got up from the table and turned around, "Oh, hello, Warren!" Warren
was obviously someone Pete had worked with, "Let me introduce you to my
. . . personal assistant, Thom."

I stood up and reached out my hand, and shook Warren's hand. "Nice to meet
you," I said, giving him a firm handshake.

"So, you decided to take the project on," Warren asked Pete.

"I did. I'm in town wrapping up some plans and trying to orient Thom to
what I need this summer."

"That's great, hey, I won't interrupt your dinner. Great to see you; I'm
glad we've got you on board with us," he nodded at me. "Nice to meet you as
well."

"That was the CFO for the school. We'll be working with him closely this
year. Get to know him!" Pete told me as he sat back down.

"We're going to need to be a little more discreet since we're back home," I
told Pete. "I love looking like we dressed from the same fashion magazine,
but we're no longer father and son but employer and employee."

"Part of your internship is looking the part. You need to dress the part,
but you're probably right, we won't wear matching suits."

We went back to the room. It was a pain to wear so many clothes after
spending a week with hardly any on. All the undressing and then dressing in
something else wasn't fun. But we were home for the evening, and all I
needed and wanted was to be in a union suit. Tomorrow would be Sunday, and
I knew that we'd get to sleep in.

"I'm pretty bushed," I said, "I think I'm ready for bed."

"Too bushed?" Pete asked.

"Never!" I laughed.

I helped lay Pete on the bed and gently lifted his legs as I knelt on the
floor. Rather than a frenzied fuck fest, I decided that tonight, Pete was
getting what he had been trying for all week. My needs were secondary
tonight, and instead of going full force, I was going to help this man come
without touching himself, and if it took all night, then it would take all
night. I hoped he was in the mood for a long session.

Tenderly and gingerly, I began licking his hairy bud. I heard him gasp as I
lightly flicked my tongue on his hole. It took a lot of self-control to not
start munching. Tonight was his night. He was breathing heavily, and I
could see his chest heaving. I tightened my tongue and pushed it in as much
as I could, which drew whimpers of delight. I grabbed his perfectly
muscular ass cheeks in both my hands and massaged them with my fingers. I
licked his taint and under his balls, then went back to his hole. I began
blowing little whisps of air, then licking behind it. He moaned and
shifted. I gently but decidedly held him in place. He was pinching his
hardening nipples.

"Baby, you're bud is so sweet tonight," I whispered as he writhed slowly
under my mouth. "I want to eat you all night!"

I stayed tender with my licking, and soon, I had him bucking and pushing
himself to my mouth, trying to get me to be more aggressive. I wouldn't
give in. I wanted him to scream for more. His abs were tight, and he was
now pinching both of his very firm nipples and moaning, panting, and
gasping like a well-trained hooker. He had a trail of precum lying on his
belly, and he had produced so much that it started streaming down to his
hips. I got my index finger wet and began penetrating his hole. He sucked
in his breath twice in a row and held it. His chest was heaving like he had
run a marathon. I rubbed all around his hole with my finger, firmly
swirling inside and reaching for his prostate. I hit gold when I heard him
wail.

"Don't be cruel," he cried, "I need you inside me!"

I pulled my finger out, licked my middle finger, and then pushed both into
him at once. I could see him looking down at me in agonized lust. I
smoothly rubbed his prostate up and down with my index finger while I used
my middle finger to go left and right on it. He reached for his cock.

"Don't touch it!" I said.

He put his hands over his head and reached for something, anything that
would occupy his hands so he wouldn't touch himself. I had the most
beautiful specimen of a man wholly vulnerable, and so lost as to what he
could do that it made me very hard. I slowly withdrew my fingers and stood
up. Pete looked terrified, not of me, but his inability to control the
situation. I slowly went to the carry-on bag and pulled out the lube.

"Get up on the pillows," I said roughly.

He had a shocked look on his face, but he complied. I lubed up and got
between his legs.

"I want you to fuck yourself on me. I'm staying still while fuck yourself
on my pole."

Pete turned about four shades of red, but he lifted his legs up and not so
gingerly pushed his hole onto my turgid cock. He panted, he squirmed, and
he pushed himself onto me all the way to the hilt. When I was entirely
inside him, I grabbed his hips and adjusted him on me. I came down to his
face and gave him a rough kiss on his upper lip. He wanted more. I wanted
more. I pushed his legs back some and had them around my shoulders. Then, I
slowly and deliberately began giving him long, deep strokes. I insisted on
rubbing my cock head on his prostate every stroke. He tried to kiss me, but
I turned my head. He grabbed my head in his hands and started panting in my
ear. I had him hot; he was groaning every time my head brushed against his
gland. I slowed down and got to a kneeling position with his legs on my
torso. I finally stopped plowing him.

He started to aggressively fuck himself on me. He'd push his ass up to my
groin and pull himself back. I didn't know many guys who would be able to
do such a thing, but I had him so horny he was doing it like a champ.

"Oh baby, you're gonna. . . make. . . me nut," I said hoarsely as he
continued to grind and fuck himself on me.

He writhed and moaned, he was tensing up and I knew I had him on the brink
of orgasm. I started sliding back and forth in him. He cried out loudly,
grabbed my shoulders, and blew one of the most magnificent loads I've seen
a man shoot. He was grunting, and he began shaking uncontrollably. I
reached down, scooped my hands around his shoulders, and released a
well-earned load into him.  Pete was speechless when I finally got back to
kneeling between his legs. He looked so vulnerable, lying beneath me. I
slowly withdrew and lay down next to him.

"You did it!" I exclaimed as I rubbed his come all over his abs and chest.

"You and I have always had great sex, but. . ." he laid his arm over his
eyes and started to cry.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong?" I asked him. It took him a minute to compose
himself.

"Nothing's wrong, nothing at all," he reached over and kissed me.

"That was the most expressive, most intense sex I've had in my life. I
didn't know it could be like that." He started tearing up again. He rolled
over and, put his head in my chest and cried some more.

"It's OK, I'm here. Cry until it feels better."

"No, I don't feel bad, but I feel like I've missed out on so much, and
. . ." he was slightly sobbing, "You made me see it."

"I don't want to hurt you here," I put my hand on his heart.

"You haven't hurt me. You made me yours tonight," he said.

"I've been yours all along," I kissed him and held his head against my
shoulder.


Our weekend at the hotel was a more bonding experience than Spring
Break. In Mexico, we acted like frat boys -- maybe gay frat boys -- but
here at home, we were cementing our relationship and beginning to realize
that we could count on each other for emotional stability and sexual
experimentation. We spent most of Sunday on the couch wrapped up in each
other's arms -- we didn't go out and just enjoyed talking about our hopes
and dreams.

Monday morning, Pete dropped me at my first class. When I got out of the
car, he reached over, pulled me back, and kissed me even though there were
a lot of students passing by. I knew he'd be taking off for New York during
one of my classes, and we had said our goodbyes earlier in the morning.

"I'll be back sometime in the middle of the month for a few days. I'd like
to see you," he said.

"You know I want to see you, too," I said, smiling.

"I'll see you then!"

My heart hurt a bit as I watched him drive away. I already missed him.