Date: Sun, 18 Jun 2017 14:06:15 -0400
From: a4f tales <a4ftales@gmail.com>
Subject: Father's Day Tales: Something From Both Of Us, Part 1

Here's a story taken from my Tumblr, at
talesfromunderthemattress.tumblr.com. You can find this one, and the pic
that inspired it, here:
talesfromunderthemattress.tumblr.com/post/161751092946/

You can also find a whole lot more of my stories here on Nifty - look for
'a4f101' in the Prolific Authors listing.

This story is purely a work of adult erotic fantasy, copyright me 2017. I
own it and all legal rights to it. If you're under the age of majority in
your jurisdiction, please come back when you're of legal age.

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*****

The boys had expectant looks on their faces as I unwrapped the box.

"Oh hey, nice," I said. It was a twin-pack of boxer shorts, one pair in a
blue check, the other in a green check. Simple, unpretentious,
practical. Typical Dad underwear, and a pretty typical Father's Day
present. Not the most imaginative thing in the world, but useful, and it
really was the thought that counted.

"Thanks, guys," I said, smiling at them.

"It's kind of a two-part gift," Callum said.

"Yeah, we'll give you the other part later on," Brady said. A quick look
and a grin passed between them that had my Suspicious Dad senses tingling,
but I let it slide.

We headed out for lunch, and that conspiratorial vibe between the boys got
even stronger. Truth be told, it was starting to get on my nerves a little
bit, because I thought we were all a little old for these kind of games by
this point, but I let them do their thing. Even Sarah picked up on it, but
just rolled her eyes with an amused "boys will be boys" look on her face.

"Sorry baby, but I gotta go," she said when we got home, picking up her car
keys. "You know how he is if you're late."

Now it was my turn to roll my eyes. Sarah's father was a crotchety old
fuck, and his idea of a good Father's Day was to have each of his children
come to his house and kiss the ring, so to speak. I'd opted out of that
whole deal years back, and the boys weren't keen to spend any more time in
his company than they absolutely had to either. We'd join the whole family
over there later, when we could all suffer through dinner together and
minimize our exposure to the miserable old asshole.

Once Sarah had pulled away, I popped the top on a beer and pondered how to
while away my next few hours of freedom. I was contemplating the idea of
opening up my laptop and finding some stroke material - I had a hunch Sarah
might want to get frisky later on, but I knew I'd be up to the task of a
full performance with her even if I did drop a load now. Besides, it was
Father's Day, and what better day to treat myself to one of my favorite
activities? Hell, if I was quiet about it, and the boys kept on doing their
own thing, I might get away with a nice session with some college-jock
porn. That was the kind of thing I usually did in absolute secrecy, when I
was sure I wouldn't be disturbed or found out. But I'd had a couple Bloody
Marys with lunch, and this beer was putting me in a certain naughty, frisky
mood. I was a respectable suburban father of two now - my opportunities to
do risky, fun shit were few and far between nowadays.

The more I thought about it, the more I warmed to the idea, and my dick was
definitely starting to warm up to it too. I was about to head down to the
rec room downstairs, where I could hear the boys coming and pretend like I
was watching golf or some bullshit on the big TV down there, when I heard
their footsteps thumping overhead.

"Hey Dad!" I heard Callum holler down the stairs. "Mom gone?"

"Yep, just a few minutes ago," I said, trying to keep the edgy tension out
of my voice. I heard the creak of the floorboards, the low murmur of the
boys' voices.

"We've got the, uh... other part of your present up here, Dad," he said
after a minute, and I swore I could hear Brady's stifled laughter. What the
hell were those two up to now? I was more curious than ever, though, and my
feet were moving to the stairs before I could think about it.

I could hear their shuffling footsteps in Callum's room as I reached the
landing and rounded the corner.

"Alright, what have you clowns got cooked up that you couldn't give me
earlier -" I started to say, grinning to myself, then stopped dead,
suddenly speechless.

The boys were standing there with expectant grins on their faces, Brady
with a little blush, Callum with a confident thrust to his square chin, his
arm around his little brother's trim wrestler's waist. They were wearing
the boxer shorts they'd presented to me this morning, those handsome grins,
and nothing else.

"What...?" was about all I could manage, as I swallowed hard and took in
the sight of them. Damn, they were fine. Really fine. I'd been a
three-sport athlete back in high school, and the boys took after me in a
lot of ways - build, looks, and athletic ability. Callum had the gym-honed
body of the athletic college sophomore he was, and Brady was nearly as big
and defined as his older brother. They made for one hell of a sight, and
the father in me felt an upwelling of instinctual pride at the handsome,
accomplished young men I'd created.

But the man in me felt an upwelling of a different sort. More accurately,
the pervert in me, because this was far from the first time I'd let my
lusty gaze fall on the trim, muscled bodies of my own boys and thoroughly
enjoyed the sight. That had always been a covert kind of thing, though, my
own deep, private kink. It had never been forced out into the open like
this. I felt my cheeks burning with a hot flush of sudden shame.

"What... what are you doing?" I said in a half-strangled voice, forcing my
eyes away from the handsome pair.

"We wanted to give you something special, Dad," Callum said, his voice all
deep and manly.

"Something from the both of us," Brady went on.

"Something kinda... more meaningful than just a couple pairs of shorts,"
Callum finished, his grin big and easy and confident.

"I don't..." I managed to say, shaking my head, feeling a mix of confusion
and shame, and of course the subtle thrum of lust underneath that, because
I'm just as driven my desires as any other man, and somehow my boys had
managed to put their fingers squarely on my most secret hot button.

"We saw the pictures, Dad," Callum said after a moment, and I felt my
stomach drop. I looked up at them, knowing I was blushing hard now. Busted,
and busted hard.

I'd long feared this moment. I was suddenly intensely angry at myself, and
specifically that lusty, risk-taking part of me that had led me to pick up
my phone and snap a few pics of the boys last year, down at the vacation
condo in Florida. Sneaky pics, of the two of them, handsome and tanned and
displaying their tight young athletes' bodies in their board shorts as they
goofed around in the pool. I'd been drinking a beer on the deck, idly
checking them out while I was telling myself that I really wasn't, but
something about the gleaming wetness of their skin, stretched tight cross
their well-built young bodies, had spurred me to capture their incredible
young masculine beauty with the phone camera. Not the kind of pics that
could be easily explained away as candid family vacation shots,
either. Sneaky, pervy shots of their torsos, their asses, their youthful
physical fineness. Shots that I pulled up and stroked a load out to more
often than I'd like to admit, my horny pervert's imagination creating all
kinds of lurid fraternal fantasies about. Goddamn it. Why didn't I set a
PIN on the phone's lock screen?

Maybe you wanted to be caught, Chris, my brain murmured. Isn't that what
any pervert really wants - to be caught?

"We weren't snooping, Dad - honest," Brady said. "We just wanted that
family photo from the beach, so we could get it blown up for Mom's
Christmas present."

"That's when we found the other pics," Callum went on. "And so we talked
about it, and we thought maybe..."

"Maybe you might like this, Dad," Brady finished. "Don't you like it?"

Fuck, the hell was I supposed to say to that? I didn't have any words. My
mouth was as dry as the desert, my beer dangling forgotten in my fingers as
the two halves of my brain - the rational, upstanding father, and the
lusty, kinky pervert - went to war with each other.

"Maybe you might like this better, Dad," Callum said, and the two of them
gave each other an unmistakably intimate look. Then they leaned into each
other at the same time, their lips connecting in a soft, smacking kiss. I
stifled a grunt of surprise and lust as I watched their lips connect, then
shift, working slowly together, moving into deeper territory, parting to
each other. Brady let out a soft little noise as Callum's moist, pink
tongue flicked against his lips, tasting him, teasing him a little, before
plunging past them and inside his mouth.

Jesus Christ. I'd imagined this, and often, and just the imaginary scene in
my mind of my handsome sons kissing like this had frequently been enough to
make me shoot my load, and hard. Seeing it in reality was a whole different
story, though. Being confronted with the reality of my perverse fantasies
had my mind churning, and my cock throbbing hard inside my shorts.

It had the same effect on my sons, their cocks rapidly standing up hard in
the boxer shorts they'd bought for me - big, hard young cocks that pushed
against the fabric to get at each other as they pushed their incestuous
fraternal makeout deeper. I watched their hands caress each other's skin as
they put on an intimate performance for me, pushing the straining bulges of
their fraternal hardons against each other, beginning to murmur and moan
into each other's mouths. I could practically feel their steadily growing
lust for each other, for what they were doing. This wasn't their first
time, or even their tenth. My sons had a lot of experience doing
this. Doing it with each other.

My sons were exactly the men I'd always secretly fantasized them to be.

After a few minutes of this, the boys broke it off, their lips moist as
they grinned at each other with that clear fraternal intimacy, Brady
blushing even harder. Callum looked down at the big tents their cocks had
formed in the boxer shorts and chuckled. The button on the fly of his had
come undone, and he toyed with the open fly, giving me a brief, thrilling
glimpse of the solid flesh of his hard college-boy cock as it strained
against the cotton.

"Looks like somebody wants out," he chuckled. "Guess he likes you, little
bro."

The two of them almost giggled, then turned to look at me. There was no
hiding the big bulge in my cargo shorts as I stared at them in horny
disbelief.

"I think Dad liked that, bro," Callum said, slipping his arm around his
younger brother's bare, muscular shoulders, leaning in to peck his lips on
Brady's temple. "Did you, Dad?"

I slowly nodded, still unable to find the right words. Felt my heart
racing, my pulse throbbing in my temples and my chest and all along the
length of my incredibly hard cock. Even more so as they linked hands
loosely and stepped close to me. Suddenly I could smell them, feel the
warmth radiating off their fine young bodies.

"Did you cum, looking at those pics you took of us, Dad?" Callum said,
something adult and deep in his husky voice. I felt my face blush even
brighter, but it was like being in a trance, as I slowly nodded.

"That's incredibly hot, Dad," he continued, stepping even closer, trailing
his free hand up and down my forearm, making the hairs stand on end. "Shame
you weren't around us at night down there. We could've given you all kinds
of pics to stroke to."

Brady's fingers started to graze lightly up and down my other arm, just
like his big brother was doing. My hands were practically itching to touch
their nearly naked, perfect young athletes' forms. More and more, that
respectable suburban father's voice in my mind was dying out, the deeper,
truer, lustier man inside me stepping up to take its place.

"But we figured what could be a better Father's Day present then the real
thing, right little bro?" Callum said, looking at Brady, who slowly smiled
as he moved his hand over the mound of my pec.

"Right, big bro," he said, an echo of the sweet little kid he'd been in his
adoring smile for his big brother, and for me.

"So... happy Father's Day, Dad," Callum said, giving me the same intent,
intimate look he'd given Brady a few minutes ago, right before they kissed
for me, and the battle inside me was lost. I reached up, took hold of the
base of his skull, and planted a hungry kiss on my firstborn's eager,
parting lips.

"Fuck," Brady whispered with something like awe in his voice as he watched
me and his elder brother kiss. Really kiss, like two men do, like I'd long
wanted to do with these fine young studs I'd sired. Callum grunted
approvingly as my thick tongue slipped over his lips, his tongue wrestling
back with mine, slipping his arms around my waist and drawing himself
deeper into me. Of its own accord, my other hand reached down to find the
solid curve of his ass and squeeze it, making him grunt again and kiss me
harder.

Fuck, my boy was a good kisser. Took after me like that, I thought to
myself proudly, like he did with his build and his looks and the thick,
dark head of hair he had on him. The kid was a certified young stud, had
been since his early teens, and I could scarcely believe I was finally
getting to experience his studliness like this, like I'd secretly
fantasized about doing for so long. He murmured and grunted into my mouth,
and I did the same, grunting harder when he pressed that hard young
cockbulge of his against mine, starting to grind instinctively. I felt like
I was about to bust out of my shorts, my cock ready to burst the zipper
wide open and go after him.

Brady's hand sliding up the big, bunched muscle of my upper arm, caressing
it, brought me back from the redline a little, though. I slowly disengaged
my tongue from Callum's, loving his disappointed, hungry little grunt when
we finally disentangled, loving even more the way he licked his lips, the
fiery, lusty look in his eyes. I looked over to Brady, saw the intense mix
of need and awe and hunger in his eyes, written all over his handsome
high-schooler's face, and I felt the lusty pervert buried deep inside me
surge up a little more. Ready to break free, and get out in the open.

Hell, even if all that had happened was some kissing, we'd already come too
far to stop. Even if I wanted to. If I was in my right mind, as a
respectable father, as a good upstanding man, I would have stopped this
right now. But my right mind was quiet, shrunk down into that deep, dark
space where that lusty perverted side usually lived deep inside of me. I
was all man now, my truest self, all cock and lust and id. I could see and
feel it in my boys too, and yet again I thought of how much like me these
hot little fucks were.

I slipped my arm around Brady's trim young waist, seeing his eyes widen,
his face flush, those full, soft lips of his parting as if to say
something, but my tongue was flicking at them before he had a chance
to. All he could do was make the same grunt his big brother just had, as I
fed him my tongue, all thick and wet with family spit. It took him a second
to adjust to the reality of what was happening, and then I felt that pride
well up inside me with everything else as he pressed himself closer to me
and kissed me back. Kissed me well, as good as Callum did, and I thought
again about how much they must have been practicing with each other. That
just made me even hungrier, and I was even more pleased when my youngest
responded to the lusty hunger of my kiss with his own young fire.

"Fuck yeah, dudes," Callum said, and I felt one of his hands cup, squeeze,
then stroke my ass, before pushing me even tighter into his baby brother. I
guess he was doing the same to Brady, as I felt the little stud's cock all
hard and eager against mine. As big and hard as his big brother, and his
father too. Shit. I'd always thought of my boys as my finest achievement,
as a father and as a man. Now I could see just how truly right I was about
that.

I couldn't help but slip my hand past the elastic of the boxer shorts Brady
wore, the first part of his gift to me, to sample the second part - the
fine, mostly smooth, muscle-dense contour of his wrestler-kid ass. I
grunted at the feeling of it, all hard and steely under the warmth of his
skin as he flexed it up for me reflexively. Couldn't help but graze my
finger over the firm contour of it, towards his cleft, my fingertips
picking up the fine trail of fur that was starting to grow in its depth, as
he murmured and shifted to let me touch him more.

"He's been wanting this a long time," Callum murmured, close to my ear, his
hand still squeezing and encouraging my ass. "We both have. So you can have
us now, if you want us, Dad."

I growled at that, pulling my tongue from the depths of my youngest's mouth
as I wrapped my arm back around Callum's waist, pulled him tight to us and
fed him my tongue in one hungry, plunging thrust. Brady's lips grazed the
side of my neck as me and my eldest worked on each other, and I felt the
throb and press of two hard son cocks against my body.

"Anything you want, Dad," Brady murmured, his voice all husky and manly,
but still with that trace of boyishness to it too. "Our present for you."

"So let me unwrap you, boys," I growled when I came up for air, tugging at
the loose folds of the boxers on them.

They were so fucking beautiful, so perfect, as the cotton shorts dropped
down their long athletes' legs, revealing every inch of their hard-muscled
young perfection, the precum-sticky arc of their epically hard teen son
cocks, the deep dimples in those five-star asses as they leaned in to kiss
each other, slow and deep and lusty, all for me. The way Callum's long
fingers trailed over his little brother's flesh, the confident sensuousness
of his kisses, the way Brady went up on the balls of his feet to press
deeper into their incestuous fraternal embrace, filled me with a deep mix
of paternal pride, love and lust for the lovers my boys had clearly
become. Together. Fuck.

The boys turned to me after a few long, lingering minutes with each other,
grinning, their young cocks hard and proud as they reached for me and my
clothes. I let them undress me, making quick but sensual work of my polo
shirt, my cargo shorts, shedding my suburban dad's weekend uniform, leaving
me in a pair of briefs absolutely straining with engorged father cock that
had already leaked a nearly see-through patch in the stretched white cotton
of my underwear. Their hands roved over the solidity of my flesh, and I
found myself flexing up the still-powerful muscles of my increasingly
middle-aged body for my boys' appreciation. They murmured and explored,
fingers tracing through the dark fur on my chest, stomach and thighs, lips
pressing soft and warm to my skin as they turned up my temperature even
further. When Brady dropped to his knees, his worshipful gaze fixed on the
big mound of my cock in my briefs, then leaned in to kiss it tenderly, I
thought I might lose my load right there. But I held it back, kept that
churning load down just barely as his lips caressed over the length of my
bulging dad cock, nuzzling the sticky, moist fabric stretched over the
head, slowly leaking my precum in a steady, lusty flow. Meantime, Callum
kissed me, long and languid, then bent his head down to nuzzle at the
thickness of my pec, kissing the warm flesh before flicking his agile
tongue against the stiff bullet-point of my nip, then encasing it in his
mouth to suck on as he continued to lash it with my tongue.

"Ah fuck, boys," I moaned, tangling my fingers in their thick dark hair.

"Soon enough, big guy," Callum said with a confident, sexy grin, kissing me
again before dropping to his knees beside his baby brother. They kissed,
Brady's lips all shiny with my seeping precum, as I moaned at the
sight. Then I moaned even more as they both turned their lips to my bulge
and began to work me over together, lips and tongues feasting on my rigid,
pulsing cocklength.

Together they slowly worked my briefs down the thickness of my thighs, my
cock snapping free with a spray of precum that hit their beautiful flesh
and made all three of us grunt. Then Callum offered my briefs up to his
little brother, and the hungry way Brady buried his face in the inside of
the pouch and feasted on the precum-wet fabric just confirmed that they
were my boys, through and through. They took turns with my underwear,
licking and sucking on the fabric, until the underwear was drenched with
saliva, and I had to tug them up to kiss them. Their lips were salty and
musky with my familiar taste and scent, and I pulled them both tight into
me so we could kiss together, a battle of musky lips and tongues and husky
grunts as we pigged out on each other.

"My turn," I finally growled, pushing them towards Callum's bed. "I wanna
taste you both."

"Fuck yeah," Callum said, as Brady beamed with bright-eyed
eagerness. "About damn time, Dad."

"You have no idea, boys," I murmured, running my hands over their perfect
young bodies as they flexed them up and showed them off for me. "But I'm
about to show you."

-- To be continued... --