Date: Sat, 3 Dec 2016 14:43:22 +0000 (UTC)
From: a4f101@yahoo.com
Subject: Hospitality

Here's a story taken from my Tumblr, at a4f101.tumblr.com/storytime. You
can find this one, and the pic that inspired it, here:
http://a4f101.tumblr.com/post/131989205109/

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 2016. 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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*****

"Well, make yourself at home," I said. "It's probably not as good as being
at a hotel, but..."

"Are you kidding, bud?" he said, his hand squeezing my shoulder. "This is
miles better. Besides, it saves the taxpayers a few bucks, and with an
election coming up..."

"Hell, there's no way you won't get re-elected," I chuckled. "I doubt
they'd begrudge you a couple nights at a Hampton for a big conference."

"Well, I appreciate the vote of confidence," he said, and I could hear the
smile in his voice as his big mitt tightened on my shoulder again. "But
even if they sprung for the Hilton, I think I'd rather be here."

I was glad to have him. I'd been down here in Florida just a few months,
and didn't really know anybody but my coworkers down at the station. When I
heard he was coming down for the big law enforcement expo, I jumped at the
chance to put him up in my guest room. I'd missed the big guy, and it was
good to crack open a couple of beers and catch up on things back home in
Virginia, and tell him some of the crazy stories about being a State
Trooper down here in bugshit-crazy land. We were rolling with laughter
before long, and it just felt real good inside, having him back around.

He was looking just as good as ever, his blond hair still thick and full,
even if it was a little more silvery than it used to be, cut high and tight
the way he'd worn it for as long as I could remember. Looked like he was
still hitting the gym just as hard, his shoulders and chest just as big and
muscle-swollen as ever, his thighs thick and powerful in his jeans. He
might have been 50, but he sure didn't look it. I hoped I'd be able to say
the same when I got to his age, for sure.

"Well, if you ain't got plans, I might get out of these clothes and get
comfy, bud," he said after our second round of beers.

"Go right ahead, sir," I said, showing him where the bathroom was before
heading back to the living room. I had tomorrow off, and was thinking real
hard about another beer. Thinking real hard about him, too.

I choked a little on that third beer when he strolled back into the room
ten minutes later, absolutely bareass-naked, that half-grin on his face as
I spluttered and coughed. Fuck, he looked even better than I
remembered. His belly had that little bit of middle-aged swell even the
fittest man gets, but it looked damn good on him, as good as the thick
blond hairs that curled over his big, mounded pecs and the still-prominent
bulges of his abs. His ass was still high, tight and thick, dimpling deeply
as he walked back to the couch, that big ol' dick of his swinging
comfortably between his powerful thighs.

"Told you I was gettin' comfy, son," he said with that twinkle in his
eye. Then he reached for my beer and took a long pull on it.

I just stared up at him, beginning to throw a major bone in my shorts as I
stared up at his awesome form. Never failed - seeing my Dad like this
always did this to me, had since I was 16 or so, when we'd first gotten
naked together for some real serious man-time.

"Another good reason not to go to a hotel," he said in that low, deep
voice. "I get to spend some quality time with my boy again, nobody to
disturb us."

I was a big guy in my own right, big and blond just like him, but Dad
pulled me up out of the couch effortlessly, up and into his big arms, his
head already angling inwards, breath warm on my face, and my lips were
parting automatically to meet him. I didn't even have to think about it, I
just went with it, and when that big, beer-tasting tongue of his slid
comfortably and easily inside my mouth, I moaned with lust and gratitude
and relief.

"Missed you, Chris," he said quietly when we parted, his eyes on mine as
his big hands rubbed my back.

"Missed you too, sir," I murmured, leaning in to inhale his unique scent,
feeling it rush through my nostrils, into my lungs, making my whole body
buzz with the intense, erotic familiarity of it. Feeling not alone for the
first time since I'd come to Florida. Yeah, I was a big guy, a big bad
State Trooper, I wasn't supposed to feel like that, sure. But I did. I
wasn't ashamed to say I missed my father, especially with a bond as deep
and secret as we had with each other.

Dad's thick fingers chucked my chin, lifting it back up, and we were
kissing again, deep and slow and warm and wet. His tongue was like an old
friend, warm and familiar, and the way he grunted into my mouth and cradled
my own blond buzzcut head as we slow-danced with our tongues, I could tell
he was enjoying the same sensations I was. His other hand trailed down my
front, over my pecs, down my stomach to the solid, throbbing bulge in my
shorts, then gripped it gently and stroked it, making me leak into my
shorts and moan into his mouth.

"Fuck yeah, son," he murmured against my lips. "Still hard for Daddy, huh
bud?"

"Fuck yes I am, sir," I half-panted. And in the moment, even though I was
6'1 and a good 220lbs of trooper beef, I felt like a kid again, cradled in
his big arms and completely awestruck by the man.

"That's my boy," he grinned, and kissed me some more.

Dad's hand stroked the big curve of my ass as I led him to my bedroom,
staying there as he tugged my T-shirt up and off me, my big arms raised
obediently like a kid's, and then unbuttoned my cargo shorts. Then he had a
hand on my ass and the other stroking the tent in my boxer briefs, making
me whimper into his searching, kissing mouth as I suckled on his fat, wet
tongue. Then both of his hands were inside my shorts, pushing them down and
off, and there we were at last, two big, blond men, naked and throbbing for
each other as we embraced.

"Beautiful," he murmured, running one hand up the muscles of my stomach to
the big plates of my pecs, starting to get a nice dusting of crisp blond
fur like his. "You're finer than ever, Troop."

I returned the favor, running my hands over the thick, powerful swells of
beef that made up his torso, exploring him like I had since I was a horny
teenager. It had been too long, but then, it always was. I leaned in to
kiss each big, crisp-furred pec, then worked my way down to first one
nipple, then the other, running my tongue over each stiff, warm peak,
enclosing it in my mouth and sucking as I tongue-flicked the nub. I used to
love opening his uniform shirt and doing this while his big paw slid inside
the back of my baseball uniform pants to cup my muscular young ass,
whispering the same husky words of encouragement he was now. Some things
never changed, no matter how much bigger or older we got.

My hand found its way to the pulsing thickness of his cock, as big and
thick as the rest of his epic body, and I slow-jacked it, savoring the
steely warmth of it as I sucked on each of his thick nips. But I wanted
more, needed more, and inevitably I sank to my knees before his big,
towering form, his hands caressing my buzzed head as I inhaled the manly
musk of his cock, running my nose along it like it was a fine
cigar. Following it with my tongue, moaning at the salty, manly taste of
him, before playing my tongue around the underside of his cockhead as he
moaned and stared down into my eyes.

"Yeah, Troop," he murmured, and that old nickname from my childhood just
added to the intensity of all this. "You really missed your Daddy, huh big
guy?"

Nobody else ever talked to me like this, and nobody else got their cock
sucked to the root like I did to him. I'd gotten to the point over the
years where I could take him all the way down with minimal fuss, and I was
damn proud of that. Sheriff Tom Yates was fucking hung, and I'd taken the
lessons I'd learned in high school with him to college, honing them on
lesser men, honing them for him. It was kind of a kick - I knew exactly how
I looked in my state trooper's uniform, big and blond and all business,
approaching some car I'd pulled over, and I knew the kind of anxious nerves
that set off in civilians. But if they could see me now, like this, on my
knees with my lips stretched around my own father's cock, drooling my spit
down his shaft, my eyes worshipful and watery as I played my hands up his
thick thighs, over the muscled swell of his stomach...

"Ease up, big guy," Dad groaned eventually, pulling my head off of him just
as that unique mineral taste of his precum was starting to fill my
mouth. "You're not the only one who's missed doing that, y'know."

He winked at me as I stood up, wiping the spit from my lips, and gave me a
quick, but deep kiss before pushing me back on my bed. I landed on it with
a thump, and we both laughed, before he licked his lips and set his intense
gaze on the towering, precum-dripping hardness of my own big trooper
dick. He crouched down between my thighs, pushing them apart and stroking
up and down the long, thick, blond-furred muscles of them, before taking my
unit in one hand, running his wide, wet tongue up my shaft, and then
swallowing me slowly, wetly, noisily to the root.

"Oh fuck sir," I moaned, clutching his handsome, silvery-blond head. "So
fuckin' good..."

He winked at me again, then hummed around the length of me, sending a deep
buzz down to my balls and into my prostate. He knew how that got to me, the
big hunky bastard, and I couldn't help but laugh and moan and shiver all
over as he kept it up.

"Just as good as ever, Dad," I panted. "You been practicing on some fresh
young deputy meat, big guy?"

His big blue eyes locked on mine as he grunted around my shaft, and I knew
he'd have a story or two to tell me later on, in the afterglow. I loved
hearing about his exploits on the side. I was looking forward to telling
him a few of my own. Like the two frat boys on their way to Spring Break in
a Wrangler practically fogged with weed smoke, who'd worked together to
suck their way out of one of the tickets I'd planned on writing them, and
gone even further to get out of the speeding ticket... but that was a story
for later.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum if you don't watch out, Dad," I moaned, and he pulled
up off my cock with an audible pop, slurping up the excess spit dripping
from his lips as he ran one big mitt up the muscles of my torso to tweak my
nip.

"Can't have that, big guy," he growled. "Not yet, anyway."

And then with another wink, he pushed my thighs even further apart, gave my
balls a long, slow bath, then buried his face underneath them. I lifted my
hips automatically, moaning as his big, wet tongue lapped its way into the
hairy depths of my crack, directly onto the tingling knot of my pucker. He
dug and licked and sucked and probed, pushed, opening me up like the expert
he was. It was pretty rare for me to get fucked, now that I didn't live in
the same town as him anymore. But hell, if he was around, I'd turn bitch
24/7. No question, not with a tongue, and fingers, and a cock as talented
as his. He'd copped all my cherries, and as far as I was concerned, I
belonged to him in any way he wanted me, whenever he wanted me.

Fuck. Part of the reason why I'd left Virginia and moved all the way down
here was to try and get some distance from thinking like that. To get out
of my father's powerful sexual pull. But here we were, right back at square
one, and I wasn't regretting it one damn bit. Not with his long, thick
tongue trying to hungrily lick its way directly into my prostate. Not with
his thick fingers strumming my tits and feeling up my big young
muscles. Not with my cock practically bouncing with horny, liquid heat,
drooling precum all over the fur on my stomach.

"God damn," he growled, pulling his sweaty face free from my depths. He
stood up, fisting his big sheriff cock, the blunt head of it gleaming and
wet, and I felt a deeper surge of lust power through me. "You got any
rubbers, son?"

I curled up, sat forward, knocked his hand off of his cock and took him all
the way to the root again, swallowing hard, basting his thick piece in son
spit, pulling back until just the head was trapped between my lips, letting
my spit drool down his shaft in long, dripping streams.

"For other guys," I said when I came up off of him. "Not for you,
Dad. Never for you."

I fixed my eyes on his and leaned back, spreading my big thighs, ankles up
on the edge of the bed, tilting my hips up to show him the blond-furred
moistness of my hole. I'd been hoping we might play when I heard he was
coming, but even I was surprised at how easily my body took over, the
muscle memory asserting itself, how quickly I was ready to bitch out for my
own Dad. But I shouldn't have been surprised, not really. It was who I
was. It was what he'd made me.

"Fuck, son," he growled, his eyes fixed on my hole, slicked up with his
spit as he moved in, fisting that spit-slicked cock of his. Our eyes met
again as he pressed the head of it at the knot of muscle, and I relaxed and
bore down and let him push it inside of me, pushing a deep grunt out of me
as he thrust slowly into me. It had been a while, and it took a second to
get used to him again, but after that, it was just like it had always
been. Big, hard, throbbing, and utterly fucking amazing. Perfect.

He looked incredible, a fine sheen of sweat coating those big, beefy
muscles of his as he fucked me, fucked me like I'd never grown up and left
home and moved hundreds of miles away, like I was still that big blond high
school junior fresh out of baseball practice and he was nailing me on the
trunklid of his cruiser. I clutched at the beefy mass of his pecs, loving
the way he growled and leaned in to kiss me, his hips pistoning those thick
inches of paternal cock inside my willing hole.

"Can't get this kind of hospitality at a hotel, Troop," he panted, grinning
at me, his sweat starting to rain all over my body, onto my outstretched
tongue.

"Sure," I grunted between thrusts. "But then... not so easy... to bring
your... lawman fuckbuds... back with you..."

"Says who, son?" he grinned. "Room for two in that spare bed of yours,
right?"

I just moaned and nodded, thinking of the sight of him plowing some fresh
young lawman tail. Or another big, beefy mature stud like him. Right there
in my guest bedroom. Maybe while I watched...

"And looks like there's maybe room for three in this bed, Troop," he
grunted, leaning in to feed me his tongue for a quick, deep instant. "Maybe
you and me can do a little networking together..."

"Oh fuck!" I hollered, and just like that, I was coming, my cock spurting
jet after jet of hot white cum up the clenching muscles of my stomach.

"Fuck yeah, Troop," he growled, clapping his paws on my thick pecs and
squeezing as he grunted, growled, and unleashed a torrent of his own lawman
cum up inside of me.

"Holy shit, buddy," he panted as he flopped down next to me on the wrecked
sheets, both of us shiny with sweat and spit and my cum. "Guess that's the
drawback of not being in a hotel - gotta change your own sheets."

"Fuck that," I said, pushing into his beefy flank as he slid his thick arm
lovingly around my neck, kissing the sweaty blond bristles on the side of
my head. "I ain't gonna change these sheets for a week. Want to just have
your smell all over me, Dad."

"Pig," he chuckled, pulling my face up to his to kiss me, slow and deep and
wet.

"Hey now, that kind of shit-talk's for those dumbass civilians," I said
mock-sternly. "Besides, you love it, Sheriff."

"I do," he said, with that sexy grin of his. "At least your guest bed
sheets will be clean. Unless you'd rather I-"

"No fuckin' way, sir," I said. "Like I told you when you said you were
coming down here - ain't no way you're sleeping anywhere else, Dad."

"Have to figure out a way to repay your hospitality, son," he grinned,
nuzzling my lips.

"You'll figure something out, Sheriff," I said, reaching for the rubbery,
stick mass of his spent cock. "And the taxpayers will never have to know."

"Who knew being fiscally responsible would feel this good?" he chuckled,
before I silenced him with another long, wet kiss.