Date: Fri, 31 Mar 2017 16:54:52 -0700
From: Jack <strokebudaz@gmail.com>
Subject: Father's Day Fuck 2

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person, living or dead is purely coincidental. This work is the property of
the author and legal action would be taken if it is reproduced, modified or
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Father's Day Fuck
Part 2

I had decided that this Father's Day would be one my Dad and I would
remember forever. Since he had come to live with me while his place was
undergoing some extensive storm damage repair, I had begun to see my
60-year-old dad as the hot, hairy muscular man he was. His masculinity was
always evident, but never forceful. He was proud of his body, because it
was the result of ongoing maintenance and commitment. And he saw many men
his age who regarded life as a senior citizen as a never ending battle of
illnesses and declining health, and the defeated mentality that it
conveyed. Many times he'd expressed sadness at their attitude, and swore
he'd never let that happen to him. He transmitted a sense of confidence and
contentment, which only made those around him (me included) desire to be
nearer to him. I felt it as a slowly building sexual energy, which I don't
even think he was aware of.

As soon as I recognized my own sexual attraction to him, I felt it every
time we were in close proximity. It emanated from him like an invisible
rolling fog, sending sparks of intense sexual need careening through my
brain, cock, balls and butthole. I kept my desires well hidden, and focused
on my plan to make Dad open to exploring the idea of sharing his sexual
energy with other men. With me.

And before I knew it, Father's Day had arrived. I was up before 8 AM,
cooking him a hearty breakfast, knowing the aroma of bacon and strong
coffee would get his attention. Just before 9 AM, I heard his bedroom door
open, and his footsteps padding down the hall to the bathroom. The shower
turned on, and after a while shut off again. I heard him humming some
unknown song while he shaved and finished his regular grooming routine. He
walked into the kitchen, cinching the belt around the thick, deep blue
bathrobe I'd bought for him last Christmas. He smiled, surveying the table
set for two, with bowls filled with scrambled eggs, hash browns, and fresh
fruit. He sat down as I set a plate in front of him with a stack of
steaming pancakes, and sizzling breakfast sausage. I sat next to him, and
raised my glass of orange juice. Dad followed my lead as I said, `Happy
Father's Day to the best dad ever. You taught me what being a man is really
all about, and I hope I've been able to live up to your expectations.'

We toasted each other, and after taking a drink, Dad replied, `You've made
me proud every day of my life, son. Your mother and I always said we were
lucky to have a kid who we never had to worry about. Not like some of your
friends. We both chuckled, digging into a filling breakfast together. We
began sharing memories of some of the friends I grew up with, and the
various times their parents had to meet with the principal of our school,
or even take a trip to the local police station. Most of them grew out of
that rebellious stage, and became responsible adults.

There were a few occasions during my Junior and Senior years of high school
when some of my buddies and I would find some secluded, abandoned building
in the industrial district to hang out together.  It was usually 3 or 4 of
us, but sometimes as many as 7 members of the Varsity wrestling team would
make a decent refuge, usually consisting of a stained old mattress and
covering it and a few empty boxes with any blankets or padding we could
find. We would pass a bottle of Jack Daniels one of us got from the liquor
cabinet at home. And unfortunately someone's dad would discover he was
missing a couple issues of `Titanic Tits & Twats" and some glossy porno mag
called "Team Spirit" from his secret stash in the garage. We'd thumb
through the pictures, passing the bottle, letting our hormones take over,
talking about how horny we were, groping our growing dicks, I was usually
the first one to get frustrated and stand up, saying "Fuck it" and quickly
slide my shorts and jock down to my ankles and, after stepping out of them,
sit back down, leaning back against a box or two and slick my hand up with
a liberal amount of spit, and start jacking my hard cock with full, steady
strokes. All the others would follow suit immediately, and before we knew
it we were all sprawled across our makeshift sanctuary, magazines laying
open around us, milking our shuddering, demanding cocks. We'd watch each
other exclusively after a while, breathless words of encouragement and
admiration echoing off the dusty warehouse walls. At some point, I would
just ask one of the guys if he let me jack his cock for him. Soon, we were
all enjoying the feeling of some other man's strong grip stroking our steel
hard shafts. Sometimes this would lead to sucking cock, and a couple of
times I ended up taking a buddy's cock up my ass. These memories of my high
school years played out in my mind while we ate, and I had to be very
careful not to get too aroused, remembering I was only wearing a loose pair
of nylon shorts and a t-shirt.

Dad and I finished breakfast, both of us sighing, feeling full and
happy. Dad reached over and smacked his big hand on my stomach, which felt
stuffed, and said, laughing, `Looks like you're gonna need to do a few
extra situps, kid. Unless you want to have a belly like mine.' His other
hand rubbed his own midsection, moving his robe to expose the briefs he
wore. His package stretched the fabric of the briefs, and as he slumped
down a bit further, his legs stretched out in front of him, spreading
wider. The belt on his robe loosened, and the robe opened enough for a full
view of his body. Dad closed his eyes, and removed his hand from my
stomach, placing it on his own. He started lazily running his hands around
his furry body, a satisfied purring moan escaping from his lips. I gathered
up the dishes, setting them in the sink for now, intending on stacking them
in the dishwasher before we left for our first destination of the day.

Dad got up, helping me clear the table. `So, what kind of day do you have
planned for me, son?' I handed him the morning paper, and walked with him
to the den. I set him down on the couch, placed a large cup of hot coffee
in front of him, and said, `Relax and read the paper while I go take a
shower. Then we'll get dressed and go to Romero Park, because I've got two
tickets to the division championship game today!' Dad's eyes got big, his
mouth dropped open, then turned into a broad, excited smile.

`You're kidding me?' he replied. His favorite baseball team was within one
game of winning the title, and perhaps playing in the World Series. He
laughed, slapped my upraised hand in a cheerful high five and, grabbing my
hand, pulled me down to the couch for a clumsy hug. `Thank you,
Danny. That's fantastic!' He gave me a kiss on the cheek, adding `I love
you, boy.' Before releasing me. Both of us were smiling, our eyes
shining. I moved around the sofa, leaving the den, and told Dad, `Relax
here for a while. Just be ready to leave by 10:30, okay?" He agreed. I went
to my bathroom after leaving my shorts and t-shirt on the bedroom floor,
and enjoyed a nice shower. I had to resist the urge to stroke my soapy,
swollen cock and bust a quick nut. I wanted to build a substantial load for
later tonight, hopefully sharing it with my dad, if everything went the way
I hoped.

The game was exciting, and Dad's team won by two runs in the final
inning. We shared a couple of beers and hot dogs, and I listened to Dad
tell stories of the ball games he remembered going to with his father when
he was just a kid. I saw glimpses of that exuberant child in him that
day. I then surprised him again by pulling out two visitor passes on
lanyards and handing him one. I had made a couple of phone calls and got
permission to visit the winning team in the locker room after the game. Dad
was grinning like a kid as we entered the noisy, steamy, tiled locker
room. The players were all laughing, cheering and joking with each
other. Scanning the room, I saw all the beefy, muscular athletes in varied
states of undress. Many either just leaving or just walking into the
showers, fully nude, proudly exposing their well-built physiques, and their
varied array of manhood swinging between thick, muscular thighs. I couldn't
help but notice some of the more abundant packages on display, and the men
who gladly flaunted them to their teammates. There was friendly banter back
and forth between all the men, and I noticed a few who watched a little
more intently at their naked buddies, and the ones who remained naked a
little longer, casually giving their cocks a mindless tug or two. I turned
away before becoming too engrossed in the display. One of the coaches
approached Dad and me, and I introduced myself, asking if the team manager
was willing to meet us. He knew we were coming, and welcomed us, ushering
us to a corner office where the manager was finishing a phone
conversation. I introduced him to Dad, who seemed a little shy at first,
but began to feel more at ease as he and the veteran coach talked. They sat
down together and the coach listened as Dad gave some unsolicited, but
useful advice on strategy. I stepped from the office and glanced back
toward the rows of lockers and the open shower area beyond, a few players
still enjoying the hot water and strong spray relaxing strained and sore
muscles. After a few minutes, my dad and the head coach rejoined me,
laughing together. They hugged, and I made sure we got a few photos of Dad
with some of the coaches and players. We said goodbye, and Dad and I left,
heading to the parking lot.

Once in the car, Dad clasped my arm firmly, causing me to turn toward
him. His look was serious, but the joy he felt could be seen in his entire
face.

`Steven, that was awesome. It was great just enjoying the game with you,
and then to get to meet the head coach. I don't know what to say.' His eyes
were still steady, but there was tenderness within them too. Dad wasn't
really the sentimental type, but I saw he was sharing a more emotional part
of himself, and I was grateful.

I laid my left hand over his, still clasping my arm, and replied, `Don't
say anything, because it's not over yet. It's time you enjoyed some old
fashioned carousing and carryin' on. C'mon, let's head back to the house."

After we returned home, we both felt the effects of the warm, sunny day,
the beer and the surprise visit with the team. We both laid down for a
short nap. After sunset, we arose, changed clothes and drove into the city
center where I had made reservations for us at the best steakhouse in the
city. We both wore casual attire, tailored dress shirts with slacks and
sport coats. We looked each other over, and I stated that we had struck the
right balance between calm confidence and superior studliness, which made
my dad laugh. But as he walked to the car ahead of me, his broad back and
finely sculpted ass, as well as his thick, beefy thighs made my balls
tingle and my own ample butt clench.

Dinner was a great experience. Everything was just as we wanted it. I
treated Dad to his favorite scotch, which he enjoyed enough to request a
second, his favorite steak prepared exactly to his liking, and we even
shared a gigantic slice of chocolate cheesecake with raspberry sauce. We
finished with a snifter of brandy and a fine cigar in their `library'. I,
of course, didn't drink any alcohol, as the designated driver. But I
watched my father relax and enjoy himself more than I think I'd seen in
decades. We shared stories of our youth, laughed at each other's jokes, and
regarded each other more as men of equal stature, instead of father and
son. As we left the restaurant, my dad slung his strong arm across my
shoulder, and pulled me to him for another kiss on the cheek. He was a bit
inebriated, but still remained upright, standing tall, with a steady pace.

We casually strolled through the neighborhood, passing by shops,
restaurants, bars and art galleries. We talked about the world, politics,
pop culture. After a while, my dad asked, `So, what next, son? Anything
more tonight?'

What he didn't realize was that I had been gently leading us toward a
specific destination. We turned one last corner, and I replied, `I thought
it would be wild to finish the night here...'

We stood about ten steps away from the entrance to The Sweet Spot. The
strip club's main entrance was framed by orange and red neon lights, and
protected by a large intimidating bald man with a black tie and jacket, and
an expression completely devoid of humor. Men approached the entrance,
cringed under the scrutiny of the immense doorman and slipped in when he
signaled his approval with a single nod of his smooth boulder of a head.

Dad hesitated and turned to me. He said, `Really, son? You want to hang out
in a strip club? With me?' He was obviously questioning the wisdom in my
decision. I held his shoulders and looked at him directly, trying to convey
my excitement and sense of adventure.

`C'mon, Dad!' I answered. `Think about it. Just us two guys...single...out
on the town. You have to admit, it's been a long time since you've enjoyed
a lady's company, am I right?' He nodded, his eyes scanning the area,
seeing a black couple approach the entrance. She wore a shimmering burgundy
dress that clung to her ample hips and barely contained her impressive
breasts. The man accompanying her wore a suit of the same burgundy as the
dress, a black dress shirt and gunmetal gray tie. The doorman nodded to
them both, and the man quietly slipped a generous tip into the doorman's
hand as he passed.

Dad turned toward me again and continued, a little shyly, `Son, why? Why
would you want to spend money in a place full of naked women? If I
remember, you're not really into the whole...' Here he took a moment, then
continued, `...Pussy and tits thing, I mean, you're still into guys,
right?'

I dismissed his comment with a wave of my hand and answered, `This isn't
about me, or what I like tonight, Dad. This is about you. And as far as I
remember, you were into the whole `pussy and tits' thing, right?' I gave
him a sly little smirk, like sharing a dirty joke. Dad seemed to be
embarrassed for a bit, but glancing back at the entrance, he said, `It's
been a long time since I've seen any in real life. I've just gotten used to
what I had stored in my imagination."

I grabbed his arm and began leading him toward the doorway. `Well then,
maybe it's time we update the files in your spank bank, okay?' Dad pulled
his arm from my grip, quickly smoothing his jacket and squaring his
shoulders, and we walked past the intimidating doorman, who greeted us with
a deep `Evening, gents'. We acknowledged him with a nod, but before I
crossed the doorway into the dim entry, I glanced back at him, giving his
entire body a quick, but thorough once-over, from top to bottom, I sighed
to myself, `Looks good." Our eyes met briefly, and I just shrugged my
shoulders and turned away as three college boys approached him, their ID's
extended toward him.

At the end of the little hallway, we saw a pair of full-sized swinging
doors, painted bright red., the lights, and stepped up to a young lady
behind a glass window. I paid our cover charge, and draped my arm across my
dad's shoulders, pulling him to my side. The music and voices of the
customers became louder, and the multicolor lights, reflecting off of
spinning mirror balls hanging from the ceiling, the strobes and lasers
became a dizzying mix. As we entered the main room, Dad looked around him,
as if on some alien planet, looking almost afraid. I just leaned into his
ear and shouted over the blaring dance music, `Let's get crazy, Dad!'

We found an empty booth with a view of the main stage and a smaller second
stage where some random girl, maybe 22, maybe 35, danced indifferently, her
tired eyes staring over the crowd, her average breasts bobbing up and down
without rhythm. A cocktail waitress came to our table and we gave her our
order. Dad was still looking around, a little nervous. I asked him if he
was okay.

He replied, after looking around a few more moments, `They're all so
young.'

`Well, of course they are, Dad.' I answered. `Would you want to watch some
broad like Paula Dean or Kathy Bates shaking her big sagging titties around
up there?' I shuddered and we both laughed, and Dad looked a bit more
relaxed.

Our drinks arrived, and sat in silence, taking in all the sights and sounds
around us. Occasionally a dancer would stroll by and ask if there was
anything she could do for us. We politely declined. I noticed Dad watching
me as I was happily bouncing to the music, and cheering along with many of
the other men as one of the dancers on the main stage spun flipped and
twirled around the pole. He watched her for a while, then leaned close to
me and asked, `Son, does this turn you on?' When I turned to him with a
`WTF' look, he slid over next to me and said, closer to my ear, as if
discussing a shameful family secret.. `If you're still gay, don't naked
women disgust you?' I laughed and leaned back in the booth, patting my dad
firmly on the back. His confusion was adorable at that moment.

`Dad, I don't hate women. I just don't feel any physical or romantic
attraction to them.' I motioned to the girl on the main stage, still
spinning and hopping and thrusting her hips and chest at the men at the
edge of the stage, as they waved five and ten dollar bills in the air,
hoping to get a closer look at her tight and toned body.

I told Dad `I can watch her dance and appreciate the skill and dedication
it takes to be able to move like that. And she seems to enjoy what she's
doing, and I want to encourage that. But there's nothing she could do to
get my dick hard.'

I quickly scanned the room, checking out the variety of men. A tall
well-built, bearded redhead looking about 40, with two smaller, younger men
was just drinking a shot with his buddies, and upon slamming down the
glass, gave a primal grunt and dramatically pounded his powerful broad
chest. I turned my Dad's attention to him and continued, `That guy, on the
other hand, doesn't have to do anything to get my dick hard.' I turned to
my dad and asked, `Do you get it now?'

Dad took another swallow of his Jack and Coke, and replied, `I guess...'
and after a pause, continued with another question.

"What if you saw him fucking a woman? Wouldn't that turn you off?' This
question made me decide that, at this point, Dad was drunk enough that I
could be more honest in my answers. I figured I'd push him a little beyond
his comfort zone. And maybe a little closer to getting him to `indulge his
curiosity'.

`No way!' I exclaimed. I slid up against him and we leaned our heads close
together hoping nobody would overhear. But with the loud music, and the
raucous customers, I didn't think anyone would. My hand rested on his leg,
and he let it remain there. I got him to follow my gaze, and we both looked
over at the beefy ginger stud as he whooped and hollered and made lewd
suggestions to the dancers, reaching down and groping his ample package.

`I could watch him sweating and straining, pumping his fat uncut dick into
some sore, stretched out pussy. Hear him grunting and swearing, watching
his smooth asscheeks flexing, see his hairy balls drawn up tight, drops of
pussy juice and his precum being flung all over every time he rams that
dick home.' My hand clamped a little tighter on my dad's leg, but he didn't
react. He was as caught up in my vulgar sexual description as I was. My
dick was starting to swell, trying to find room to expand, pressing against
the smooth fabric of my trousers.

`He's got his eyes shut tight, `cuz he's getting close to cumming, and he's
not thinking about her pleasure anymore. The only thing that matters to him
right now is how good his rock hard dick feels. He knows he's at the edge
and pulls his cock out, pussy juice and his precum making it all slick and
shiny. He lets go of her legs. With one hand he grabs his awesome hard
dick. He looks down at it, loving the way it feels, knowing every man who
sees it is jealous as fuck. Every woman wants it inside her. He strokes the
full length, every time the foreskin slides over the sensitive cockhead, it
sends a jolt from the base of his cock to his brain. His other hand grips
his nipple, pinching and twisting the rough round tip. He throws his head
back, his chest heaving, his body pouring sweat and he grunts, a deep
animal sound. He's milking his pulsing cock, each stroke launching a thick
stream of creamy white jizz, steamy hot, landing across the gaping, sore
leaking cunt. After four or five full jets, his cum oozes out, thick and
rich, over his grasping fingers, down the shaft and onto his balls, finally
empty.'

We were both breathing heavy, and I could smell the sweat off of both of
us. We sat silently, the music still blaring, the customers cheering and
taunting, The muscular redhead was now sitting in a chair, his legs spread,
as one of the girls shakes her hips, turns around to rub her tits across
his face, and then turns her back to him bouncing and grinding her smooth
round buttocks against his bulging basket. My hand rubbed back and forth
along Dad's meaty thigh. I stopped, letting go, my palm moist with sweat. I
leaned back, mumbling an apology, wiping my hand on my sport coat.

I was afraid to look up at my dad, worried that I would see nothing but
disgust and hatred. But what I saw when I did raise my eyes to meet his was
a man in a daze. His mouth slightly open, his eyes staring ahead, perhaps
still fixed on the burly man, whose beard was a darker russet than his wavy
copper colored locks, his obvious erection stretching down his left
thigh. Dad swallowed, his tongue quickly sliding across his lips. I watched
him as he began to sit up, slowly turning his head toward me.

`Dad?' I asked, almost too quietly. `Are you okay?'

After a moment's pause, he took a breath, and looking at me said, his voice
raspy, `Holy fuck, boy. What was that?'

I gave it a moment's thought, and replied, `That was my imagination, dear
father' I tapped my temple. `It's what's going on in here 24/7. It's one of
the reasons I was a damm good writer, and a fucking awesome storyteller.'

Dad shook his head again, straightening up. His eyes were still a little
unfocused, and his movements were a little less precise. `Hell, you are
good, for damm sure. Got my fat hog all worked up.' He briefly groped and
adjusted his package. I pretended I didn't see, but I couldn't resist a
little smirk. I also liked dad's decidedly rough language to describe his
dick. `I haven't been this hard in weeks.' He leaned back in the booth, his
head still swaying a little, his eyes slowly moving across the room,
spinning colored lights, strobes and laser beams flashing and swirling
across every surface, a tornado of lights, and an avalanche of noise.

I took a moment, not sure how to respond. Finally, I replied,
unsure. `Uh...you're welcome?' I chuckled slightly. Dad looked over at me,
and when he finally realized what he had implied, he laughed too.

`So, this is your big Father's Day gift? Getting your old man a big fuckin'
hardon?' He grabbed his bulge again, more openly and lewdly, making sure I
saw. He seemed to be on some sort of verbal roll, because he continued,
`Well, it's definitely something I can use. Not like that coffee mug you
made when you were a kid. Damm thing fell apart the first time I put coffee
in it!'

I smiled, remembering how proud I was of that mug. Made sure I made it big
enough for his large calloused hands. Carefully painting `Best Father Ever'
on the side. Dad took a quick gulp of his cocktail, another humorous joke
suddenly being born in his inebriated mind. I leaned back to watch him like
Lewis Black on a Comedy Central special.

`And it's definitely the right size.' Again a squeeze of his bulge, his
hand running the thick length across his thigh. `You bought me slippers one
year, remember?' He laughed again, more of a bark. `What the fuck were you
thinking? I wear size 14EE shoes, boy! You give me size 10 slippers! Ain't
no fucker with a dick like this gonna be prancing around on size 10 feet!'

We were both laughing, but I was also making some quick calculations. What
kind of chance did I have that Dad's openly sexual behavior could be
extended until we got home, and I could deal with him one on one? He could
still turn on me in an instant if I moved too fast, made suggestions he
wasn't ready for...

Dad was leaning back, catching his breath from his comical rant. My mind
was occupied with trying to figure all the best (and worst) outcomes of the
evening.

From somewhere across the main showroom of the strip club, someone called
out, `Bob? Bob Dorsett? Is that you?' My ears perked up at the mention of
Dad's name, and at the same time his head snapped upright, blinking in
surprise, both of us quickly scanning the room to find the source of the
voice.

A staircase behind us led to the Candy Store, which was a number of
`private' rooms where customers could be `entertained' more personally by
any of the girls working there. Of course, a half hour visit to the Candy
Store would run anywhere from $200 to $500, depending on the `performance'
of the dancer, as well as the mandatory bottle of champagne.

A tall, sturdy man descended the stairs, a look of happy disbelief on his
face. Dad looked at him and smiled broadly, immediately recognizing the
other man.

`Hector!' Dad called out, standing up, a little unsteady. Hector reached
out and steadied him with a firm grasp of his shoulder. Dad looked at me
and introduced us. `Son, this is Hector Galvez. One of the best electrical
subcontractors I've worked with.' Dad turned to Hector and said, `Hector,
this is my son, Steven.'

Hector and I greeted each other, shaking hands. His grip was firm. He
looked to be somewhere in his early 50's, his trimmed beard was the same
jet black as the loose curly hair that was just past his collar, except for
the stark white streaks of hair on each side of his strong chin. His skin
was a deep tan, and I glimpsed a small section of a tattoo on the lower
left side of his neck, down toward his chest which looked quite
muscular. His biceps strained the fabric of his grey dress shirt with thin
gold stripes. A gold chain glimmered on his chest, resting in the cleft
between his broad pecs.which looked to be smooth. An expensive gold watch
adorned his wrist, and a single thick gold wedding band was on his left
ring finger. He was slightly taller than me, and more slender, and
obviously in good physical condition.

Hector turned back to my Dad, who surprised him by spreading his arms and
pulling his colleague into a clumsy embrace. I took the opportunity to give
Hector a little closer look, noting the round, beefy ass and thick thighs
in a pair of light grey linen trousers. Dad released him, and as Hector
stepped back, he did that unconscious `crotch grab' motion I'd seen many
straight men, and especially Hispanic men, do. I never had understood what
caused this seemingly unconscious motion. For men like me, it always made
me immediately focus all my attention on the basket being adjusted, and I
was rarely disappointed at what I saw. The same was true with Hector.

The three of us sat back down in the booth. A server came over and asked if
we needed any more drinks. Hector ordered 3 shots of Fireball. We toasted
to good friends. Dad asked Hector why he was here, and he explained that he
was here for a going-away party for a cousin's son who was going into the
Marines in a couple of days. When he asked about our being in the strip
club, Dad proudly remarked that this was part of his Father's Day gift from
me. Hector looked at both of us, rather suspiciously, and said, `That's
gotta be the weirdest present I've ever heard of.' We all agreed,
laughing. Dad replied, `I'm really kinda happy, ya know? My son and me,
hanging out, like two buddies.'

`Well, looks like you are having a great time. Tony is partying upstairs
with a bunch of his friends, and I'm feeling a little out of place. All
those guys are around 25 years old, and I can't keep up with that. I think
I might go home.' He slid out of the booth and stood, when I got an idea.

`Wait a second, Hector.' I said, putting my hand on his arm. `Dad and I
were thinking about heading back home ourselves, right Dad?' he agreed,
commenting that the music was giving him a bit of a headache.

`Why don't you come back to our place for a bit? Hang out with some grown
up men.' I was surprised when Dad agreed, urging Hector to join us. Hector
only hesitated because he didn't bring his own car, and the relative he
came with was still with the others upstairs.

But after thinking a bit, he concluded, `Fuck it, I'll just text him and
say I got a ride from a buddy. They're not gonna miss me.' Dad and I both
cheered, and the three of us left the Sweet Spot together.

As we drove, Dad explained why he was living with me. He and Hector shared
memories of their working together on different building sites. Nearing
home, Dad turned around to address Hector, who was relaxing in the back
seat. Looking in the rearview mirror, I had a good view of Hector's
basket. His legs were spread, and his hand was on his crotch, casually
cupping the bulge, and still adjusting and groping it without a thought.

`You wanna know how great this kid is?' Dad asked, pointing a finger in my
direction. `He takes me to a strip club to check out all the girls showing
off their tits, shakin' their asses for me and whatever.' Then he shocked
me by saying, `He's there with me, even though he doesn't even LIKE girls!'

I immediately shout `What the fuck, Dad?!? That's nobody's business!
Jesus!' I stared at the road, angry and a little embarrassed.

Dad looked at me, worried and a little confused. `I'm sorry, Steven. I just
thought...'

I interrupted him, saying, `Don't. Just leave it alone.' I glanced back at
Hector, who was looking uncomfortable, feeling the sudden tension between
my dad and me.

`I'm sorry, Hector. I guess maybe Dad's had a little more to drink that
usual.' I turned my attention back to the road. The three of us sitting
silently.

My anger at being outed by my dad quickly dissipated, and I felt a little
pang of guilt. I was a little surprised at my reaction to dad's
statement. I should be glad that my father accepted me as I am, and even
seems proud of me.

After a moment, Hector spoke from the back seat. `It's okay, Steve. It's no
big deal. I think your father was just trying to show how much he
appreciates what you've done for him today. I know I'd be very proud of
having a son like you.'

Dad added, a little quietly, `That's right, son. I didn't mean to piss you
off. I'm sorry.'

`I'm sorry, too, Dad.' I replied. `I shouldn't have snapped at you.' I
reached over, placing my hand over his and giving it a quick squeeze.

We arrived home, and Dad and Hector sat on the sofa in the living room. I
retrieved 3 cans of beer from the fridge, and handed one to each of them,
settling myself between them on the couch. It was a little cozy, but not
too cramped, and nobody complained. Another toast to Father's Day, and we
all took a sip of our beer.

Hector sat up, and said, reaching into his pants pocket and withdrawing a
small silver case, `I think I have just the thing to make this night
perfect.' He flipped open the thin case, revealing four perfectly rolled
joints. He pulled one out, setting the case on the side table. He looked at
both of us, and asked, `Do you smoke? If not, that's cool too.'

I looked at Dad for a moment, then replied, `I haven't smoked pot in about
5 years, but, what the hell, why not?' I turned back to Dad, asking, `Did
you ever...?'

His eyes were a little bleary, and the alcohol made his speech a little
slower, but he said, `Honestly, I haven't done that since I was in high
school. I'm not sure what it'll do to me. But I don't wanna be the odd man
out. Fire that fucker up, Hector!'

Hector smiled at both of us and put the joint in his mouth and lit it. He
inhaled deeply, then passed the joint to me, holding his breath. Dad and I
both watched him another 5 seconds until he slowly exhaled, the thick
pungent clouds rolling out of his open mouth. His tongue appeared, flicking
up and down through the fog. He and Dad watched me closely as I drew in a
deep breath, feeling my lungs fill with the sharp tasting smoke. I held my
breath just a few seconds before I coughed harshly, releasing the fumes,
hunched over, eyes watering. Dad and Hector both laughed.

I sat back, still trying to clear my throat, and handed the joint to Dad.

`Okay, old man. Let's see if you can do better.' Dad took the joint, and
began to inhale. His eyes became wide when he stopped, holding his breath,
passing the glowing joint back to Hector, who set it in a small ashtray on
the side table. Dad didn't open his mouth, but exhaled through his nosed,
producing two thick plumes of smoke from his nostrils like some cartoon
bull, ready to charge. He too ended up coughing a bit, then leaned back on
the couch, his head tilted back, his eyes closed.

I felt the effects of the pot within moments. My felt like it was floating
a little above my body, like a balloon attached by a string. I looked over
at Hector, who was smiling and nodding. I tried nodding too, but felt like
my head was just wobbling back and forth. I thought I said, `Wow, this is
some good shit.' But my voice sounded like it was coming from the end of a
tunnel. There was a little ringing in my ears,

`My pleasure, kid.' Hector replied, putting his hand on my shoulder. That
physical contact felt like a surge of energy flowing through me, like a
wave. I leaned back, and after a few more moments, my head returned to my
body and my mind felt calm, and I felt relaxed and happy. And horny, once I
looked over and saw Dad, his eyes still closed, his head back, his legs
spread, his hands pressed against his chest, his breathing slow and
deep. `Oh, wow...oh, man...oh, fuck...' was all I heard him say. I leaned
over, placing my hand high on his beefy thigh, near the prominent bulge of
his manhood. He jumped slightly, made a sound deep in his throat, a
definite sound of pleasure. I noticed his basket twitched too. He began
moving his hands up and down over his thick, hairy torso, enjoying the
feeling of his own body under the influence of the marijuana.

Hector, sitting on my left side, commented, `Looks like your Dad's getting
into his own zone. Been there myself a time or two.' He was openly groping
and rubbing his own swollen cock, the bulge extending down his right
thigh. `This stuff makes me horny as fuck.'

`I know.' I concurred. `I'd forgotten about that. And it's been a while
since I got laid.'

Hector nodded, `Me too. He looked at the large flatscreen TV and asked,
`You got any porn?'

Thinking, I answered, `Yeah, but I'm not sure it's anything you'd get into,
I mean...' I hesitated, and Hector said, as he took the joint from the
ashtray and lit it again, `So you're really not into pussy? Just dudes?' I
nodded, and took the offered joint, now less than half its original size.

While I took another hit of the strong weed, Hector said, `What the fuck,
why not? Sex is sex, and I'm fucking horny enough that I'd get off on
almost anything.'

I looked over at Dad, who still had his eyes closed, moaning slightly, his
shirt unbuttoned, with one hand rubbing and squeezing his hairy pec, and
pulling his thick nipple. His other hand was rubbing and squeezing his
crotch, his ass flexing, moving back and forth on the sofa. Hector
chuckled, saying, `Looks like your dad's getting a head start.' He stood
up, taking his shirt off and tossing it over a nearby chair. I went to the
cabinet on which the large screen TV sat, and opened the drawer where I
kept my porno videos. I quickly chose one of my favorites, with a group of
hairy, muscular, mature men spending a long weekend in a hunting cabin in
the mountains. It also included a couple of `father/son' scenes that I
particularly enjoyed, and I hoped Dad would find arousing. I slid the DVD
into the player, and started to strip off my shirt and slip off my shoes.

I turned around to see Hector with my Dad. Hector was helping dad get his
shirt and shoes off too, and Dad was quietly asking Hector, `Am I okay? I
forgot how this feels! I love how everything looks...you're both so
amazing!' Dad's hands roamed across Hector's darker skin, grabbing the
bulging biceps, running his fingers down the rippled abs covered in black
hair. I felt like I had been dropped into a fantasy, but had no real
control as to how it would work out.

This isn't the way I had planned for this evening to end, I thought, but I
think it's going to work out real well. I slipped off my slacks, glad I had
decided to wear one of my favorite jockstraps. It was dark gray, made of a
smooth, lightweight fabric similar to lycra, but strong enough to actucally
support and contain my hardening cock. I also had a thick silicone cockring
stretched around the base of my dick and balls, giving my package an extra
bit of heft.

Hector and Dad sat side by side on the couch, both wearing nothing but
boxer briefs, stretched tight around thick muscular thighs. Hector was much
more slender than Dad, his physique more defined, while Dad was just more
massive. I stood in front of both of them, swiveling and thrusting my hips,
sliding my hands across every part of my body, squeezing the base of my
swollen meat with one hand, seeing it strain against the pouch of my
jockstrap. My other hand slid back and forth along the entire length.

Hector was stroking his impressive hardon in the same manner, and said,
`Damm, Steven, that's a really good lookin' fuckpole. Keep stroking it,
show it off for your Dad. Show him how big a man you are. That's the kind
of Father's Day present that only YOU can give him.' He nudged Dad's broad
hairy belly, adding `I don't think there's a man alive who wouldn't be
proud to know his son is working with that kind of firepower. And it
doesn't matter what he's sticking it in. Some chick's soaking wet pussy, or
a buddy's hairy sweaty ass.' Dad was just nodding, his mouth open slightly,
his eyes glued roaming up and down my body, stopping on my hard cock
stretching the fabric of my jock, which was quickly becoming drenched in
sweat and precum. I could hear Dad quietly whisper, `That's my boy. C'mon,
show your old man how you get off.' Both his hands were stuffed into his
own underwear, working his sweaty throbbing hardon. As I slid my jockstrap
off, revealing my thick 8" cut dick, both men moaned appreciatively,
sliding their shorts off, liberating their rock hard dicks. They glanced at
each other's endowments, nodding their approval, but turning their
attention back to me. They both spread their legs, Hector quickly laying
his right leg across Dad's left one. Dad didn't miss a beat, and continued
jacking his thick meat, which looked to be slightly less than an inch
longer than mine and definitely thicker. His left hand moved from the base
of his own hardon to Hector's muscular hairy thigh, his hand moving back
and forth, occasionally brushing against the dark hairy sacs containing
Hector's balls.

`Looks like your son takes after you in the best ways, right, boss?' Hector
commented, his right hand reaching over and caressing Dad's big nutsac,
covered in silver fur. Dad nodded, grunting and running his hands across
his hairy chest and stomach.

`Love that furry beast with his thick fuckpole.' He said. Hector motioned
me over to the couch. `Let's compare `em.'

I stood between Dad's spread legs and squatted down. His hardon laid flat
against his belly. Hector reached over and grabbed it with one hand,
pressing mine against it and attempting to wrap his hand around both. Dad
and I glanced at our cocks, our precum mingling as we instinctively humped
against each other. Then we met each other's gaze and Dad moaned, `So
fucking hot...' I replied, `Please let me suck you, Dad. Please.' He kept
his eyes on me, and after a few seconds, nodded.

Hector slid over, satisfied just to stroke his own hardon and watch,
letting Dad and me share this profound and intense moment. I dropped to my
knees, and grasped Dad's thick hardon. I stroked it a few times, as Dad
moaned again, but our eyes never leaving each other. I licked my lips and
said `I love you Dad.' I opened my mouth and engulfed his throbbing
meat. His head flew back, and he cried, `Fuck! Steve! Yes!' His hips bucked
upward, forcing his dick further into my throat. His hands grabbed my
shoulders as I bobbed up and down, each time feeling his cockhead pushing
further and further into my throat. His hands moved to my biceps, groping
and feeling the muscles as my hands moved from his thick hairy thighs,
across his stomach, feeling the abs flex and stretch. I looked up at him,
my eyes watering as he looked down at me with amazement. I took a deep
breath and opened my throat, lowering my lips to the wide base of his cock,
his pubic hair brushing against my nose, my beard rubbing on his
balls. Dad's mouth silently mouthed `Oh, fuck yeah...' and his eyes grew
wide. I felt his strong hands on the back of my head as his ass flexed
upward over and over.

`Swallow my cock, boy!' He demanded. `Take my load!' His hands released
their grip and I pulled back, leaving about half of his cock in my mouth,
feeling the pulsing and enjoying the first thick jets of my father's cum
filling my mouth and throat. He grunted, `Yeah...Fuck...AWWWWW!' Panting as
the last shots of sperm drained from his nuts, still drawn up tight against
his softening cock. I let his meat slip out of my mouth, shiny and slick
with my spit and his cum, and laid my head on his stomach, my own heartbeat
slowing, my breath rough and deep. Dad's hands stroked my hair, and my arm
both plastered with sweat.

After a moment, Hector said, `Boss, you wanna see your son blow his load,
don't ya?' I looked up at my Dad, who looked at me and nodded,
smiling. `Fuck yeah. C'mon, Steve. Show me what you got.'

I stood up, stroking my thick cock, and looked over at Hector. I motioned
for him to join me.

Dad laid slouched down on the couch, his legs spread, his hairy body
glistening with sweat. Hector and I stood, each of us straddling one of
Dad's thick hairy thighs, enjoying a good stroke session. Dad's hands ran
through the hair on his body, and then reached up and grabbed our balls in
his hands, slathering them in his sweat, stroking and tugging them.

`Fuck yeah, Dad.' I said. I then felt his hand slide behind my nuts and a
thick finger rub across my puckered, flexing hungry hole. I could see
Hector was getting the same treatment. As I felt Dad's thick finger push
in, I automatically bent my knees, impaling myself on his strong digit.

`C'mon, boys.' Dad grunted. `Pump that jizz for me!'

`Si, jeffe! Si!' Hector barked, as his dick bucked and thick ropes of cum
shot out, landing across Dad's chest.

`Oh, thank you, Dad! Fuck me, Dad!' I called out, feeling my rectum clamp
tight on his finger, which pushed in deeper, pressing against my prostate,
causing my first blast of cum to land across his chin and mustache. He
jerked his head, his eyes wide, as three more shots splashed across his
chest and stomach. He pulled his fingers out of both our holes, eliciting
one final thick wad of cum from both of us. Hector and I both felt weak,
and lowered ourselves to Dad's outstretched arms. He held us close, feeling
our heartbeats slow, our breathing become more regular.

Dad turned to me, and seeing my cum still on his moustache and chin, I rose
up and licked it clean, and then kissed him, sliding my tongue into his
mouth. He didn't resist. I pulled back, trying to interpret his look.

`Are you okay?' I asked. Dad looked at me, then over to Hector, and back
again.

`Yeah, I just...I don't know. I've never done anything like this
before. But there's no doubt I want to do it again.'

Hector and I both agreed. That night we all slept in my king size bed. The
next morning, Dad and I woke to Hector giving us both head. When we were
both hard, Hector laid on his back, lifted his legs and eagerly took Dad's
cock deep in his ass, while I face fucked him. Dad and I deposited our seed
in both ends of Hector, and he jerked his cock, spraying his load across
his body. We all showered, and Hector returned home. Dad called his office,
and was glad to find out there was nothing that needed his immediate
attention. My assistant was willing to postpone any meetings until the next
day and hoped I got over my stomach bug. Dad and I spent the day talking,
sharing, and exploring each other. He agreed it was the best Father's Day
ever.