Date: Sat, 10 Oct 2020 11:47:57 +0000 From: Bill Drake Subject: Naval Tradition Revised 17 Naval Tradition REVISED EDITION Bill Drake (billdrake@hotmail.com) with Corporal Cody NOTICE: THE FOLLOWING IS FOR ADULTS ONLY. It is gay erotic fiction explicitly depicting sexual acts between men, including male relatives. If that offends or disturbs you, read no further. Thanks to all the great work that the Nifty Archive does and the writers it publishes. Please consider supporting them with a donation. This is the revised and retconned version of Naval Tradition, told in chronological order. While the overall story is the same, there is lot of new content here (and some of the old parts didn't make the cut in this version). This revision has been a collaboration with fellow writer Corporal Cody. My thanks to him for his considerable contributions to and inspiration for this version. Feel free to drop a line if you enjoy it: billdrake@hotmail.com. I hope to have an ebook version at the end of this, so you can let me know if you want to be on the mailing list for that. NAVAL TRADITION Bill Drake, with Corporal Cody PART THREE: MEXICO [Note: this a no-sex chapter, but more action will come soon.] Chapter Seventeen Mexico, Day 2 The soft sounds of birds and waves gently pulled me out of my slumber. I lazily rolled over in the crisp sheets bundled around my waist, my head cradled in the massive downy pillows as I slowly opened my eyes, taking in the sight of the resort hotel room. I smiled, rolling my face back into my pillow as I remembered where I was, who I was with, and what had transpired yesterday. I moaned as I noticed the prominent morning wood I was sporting, and it felt particularly good to press it into the mattress under my weight and hump the sheets a little with almost involuntary thrusts. A raging morning erection was nothing new for me, for sure, but I think I was surprised that all the sex of the day before hadn't drained my libido. The soft morning sunlight filled the room as I finally sat up, rubbing one eye with the heel of my palm while running my fingers through my rogue hair with the other. I quickly noticed that I was the only one in bed, with the other side of the king-sized mattress still unmade. Dad's an early riser and had been for as long as I could remember. As a Navy man, he had to be on base pretty early for morning Reveille and then PT. Old habits don't die easy, even on vacation, I mused. I swung my feet out of bed, pulling the sheet from my lap as I finally got up with a yawn. Still naked, my dick swinging stiff and heavy, I padded into the spacious bathroom to will my hardon to go down enough to take my morning piss. I quickly washed my face, noting the blond stubble coming in around my chin and jaw, almost invisible until the hairs caught the light just right. I decided to wait on the shave and patted down my bed head the best I could. I stepped back into the room and noticed that the sliding door was open, the tropical sounds that had stirred me awake were pouring into the room along with the morning rays as I noticed a large and muscular figure sitting relaxed in one of the patio chairs. I slipped on the mesh baseball shorts I wore the day before on the plane ride down, the thin material doing little to hide my semi as I let them sit low on my waist and stepped barefoot out onto the balcony. The morning was bright as I shielded my eyes with my hand, taking in the sights once more - the tropical paradise... and Dad. He'd already dressed, showered and shaved, and God, the man was gorgeously handsome. His brown-with-hints-of-silver hair was now parted and slicked down with product, still looking wet at this hour. He wore the same chino shorts from last night and stretched over his meaty build was my team's T-shirt -- dark blue with the orange, Virginia Baseball lettering over the upper chest. It made me proud to see him wear it. I guess it's what fathers do, but still Dad liked to show he was proud of me, and that made me happy. Dad was sitting back, reclined, legs sprawled, mug in hand, sipping his coffee and reading a paperback book he'd bought at the airport in Atlanta. Dad was a voracious reader, usually history books or biographies. I rested my hip and arm on the railing as I watched him, letting the breeze blow my hair back into my face. "Morning, Slugger," he greeted, putting down his book, resting it against his trunk-like thigh as he happily smiled up at me. I watched his eyes quickly but unabashedly sweep up my near naked body, easily noticing the thick shank of cock outlined in my shorts. "Sleep OK?" he asked, as his stare took me in again. "Yeah, really well," I said, my voice cracking since it still hadn't woken up. "What time is it?" I asked, scratching my head as I looked back out over the beach and ocean. Dad had a nice Swiss-made military watch and he looked at the time. "Not quite 7:30. I brought you some breakfast from the lobby. The coffee's getting cooler, but I can get you something fresh." Dad pointed to the patio table as I noticed a second coffee mug, a couple muffins and a plate of freshly cut melons and berries. I stepped up and grabbed the still-warm cup. "Nah, that's fine," I said before I took a sip. Dad knew how I took my coffee - with cream, no sugar. He was a black coffee drinker, himself. I took a seat in the second chair as Dad nudged the modest breakfast towards me. I unwrapped the muffin he brought. "Maybe tomorrow we can get breakfast in the restaurant," he said as he watched me devour the muffin and begin picking at the fruit. "I thought you might want to sleep in today." "This is sleeping in?" I laughed. It was a running joke between me and Dad how I wasn't as much of a morning person as he was. I had more of an appetite than I expected and quickly began to finish off the food Dad had brought. Dad dogeared the page in his book, setting it on the table as we made morning small talk and enjoyed our coffee. Dad watched me enjoy my meal, smiling as I noticed this grey eyes gleam as well. There was a moment where we just stared at each other, trading smirks as I felt the heat of his eyes on my naked skin again. "Let's hold off on the sex today, Slugger," he said, breaking the silence. I knew he'd been thinking about this conversation for the last couple of hours. It was Dad in Navy captain mode, taking charge and making his wants known in a direct, matter-of-fact tone. "Anything wrong?" I asked, a little puzzled as my smile waned. We'd had such an amazing connection the night before. It pained me to think that my father hadn't enjoyed it like I'd thought or, worse, was having regrets. I had a flash of our conversation months before, at a restaurant back in Charlottesville, Dad telling me that he now had a girlfriend, and what we were doing had to stop... I quickly pushed the memory back. He promptly shook his head, not letting his smile fade or gaze wander. I let the immediate relief wash over me. "Nothing wrong, Jim. I just want to enjoy the day spending time with you. No sex. OK?" It was less a question, and more of a request. I was glad there was no issue between us, but I know I couldn't completely hide my initial disappointment. I went to sleep last night imagining all the possibilities, but I held my smile. "Yeah, sure," I said. "Sounds nice." I nodded at him as I let my shoulders shrug, hoping I made it look like it was no big deal. Yep, I would have happily had sex with my father that day, more than once if I had my way. But I really was committed to respecting Dad's wishes. And I think he was right. It was good to balance out with some time as father and son. I usually enjoyed Dad's company, and this trip was a good opportunity for more. Now that I was in college, Dad and I did spend less and less time together, and I missed those days in Norfolk when it was just us. "So..." I started. "That frees up an hour of our day" Dad relaxed back into his seat with a deep chuckle. I was relieved when Dad laughed along at my joke. "I don't know how you feel about the idea, but I took the liberty of asking about a tour of the Chichen Itza ruins while I was downstairs." Like I said, my father was a big history buff. I didn't know a lot about Mayan ruins, but I saw them on enough postcards while Dad and I were out yesterday evening strolling the touristy streets of the district. Seeing some ruins seemed like an interesting enough way to spend the day. "Awesome," I said, excited that Dad was excited. "You sure?" he asked, his tone telling me that he could handle me not wanting to go. "If so, the tour leaves in about 15 minutes." He raised his wrist to look at his military watch once more. "Jesus!" I exclaimed, chugging down the rest of my lukewarm coffee, while standing up from my chair. "I'll get ready." "We don't gotta go, Jim," Dad urged. "Really." "No, I'm good," I said and set down my empty cup. I took an extra quick shower and figured I would have to shave and worry about my hair later. I found myself wrapping my waist with a towel before coming out of the bathroom. Dad had clearly seen me naked, and quite recently. But since we weren't fooling around that day, I wanted to go back to the way we acted with each other before. I quickly threw on some clothes, an athletic T and some cargo shorts. I made sure to leave the flip flops behind as I slipped on a pair of sneakers for walking. Dad walked back into the room, picking up a small, military-style daypack as I grabbed my Orioles ball cap and sunglasses on our way out the door. We made it to the lobby with about five minutes to spare. There was already a good sized crowd of people milling about, all looking similarly dressed for a day of light hiking. Dad went to sign us up for the tour as I noticed that there were more than a few families taking the trip as well. The van ride was longer than I had anticipated as Dad and I watched the scenery change from the city, to the outskirts, to the dense green jungle. It was kind of boring watching nothing but trees for miles, but Dad looked happy as he fed me little facts here and there about the ancient Mesoamerican civilization and their war campaigns. It was kind of annoying, actually, but a part of me realized it had been ages since I'd experienced this part of Dad on a family trip. After finally arriving and paying the admission, the site itself more than made up for the drive. It was wild to see something so magnificent and old in ruins, like time had stood still. Even with the heat and the crowds, I loved it. It's a good thing Dad, in his Navy-trained preparedness, brought sunblock, because I needed it. Dad pulled out his small digital camera as we stood in the main plaza of the ruined ancient city. We both looked up at the temple-topped, stepped pyramid that dominated the city's center. From the angle, the geometric form looked even more imposing and impressive. "Pretty amazing, huh, Slugger?" Dad said, clearly in awe of the ruin. I nodded. "It's wild to think something so old is still around." It may have been a dumb thing to say, but I'd never really seen anything older than Colonial Williamsburg, which I'd visited on a school trip. Our guided tour lasted over an hour, and that was plenty for me. My attention span isn't real long, especially compared to Dad's obsessive nature and thirst for knowledge. So as we had an extra hour to explore on our own, my focus started to drift, especially in the hot sun and thick humidity. I would have happily just strolled around or sat somewhere to enjoy the view or people watch, but Dad had his English-language pamphlet out and in between reading from it, he was getting excited for the engineering feats of the construction. At some point though he looked at me and I could tell he realized my energy was flagging. He cracked an apologetic smile and nodded toward the shade of the trees. "What do you say we take a break, Slugger?" I laughed. "That obvious?" "I can get a little too enthusiastic. Your mom used to complain every trip we took. Here..." he pulled a water bottle out of his pack and offered it to me as we started making our way across the sun-baked, tropical-green field. We weren't alone in the shade. There were a bunch of vendors hawking refreshments and souvenirs. And we ended up standing next to a family from New York, making small talk - a couple in their 50s with a teenage son and college-aged daughter. Not spring breakers but not cruise ship daytrippers either. Judging from their outdoor gear attire, they had more of an adventure traveler vibe to them. I took off my cap to wipe the sweat off my brow, my hair feeling damp as it cooled in the breeze. As Dad made small talk, I noticed the daughter kind of staring at me. She was pretty, in that natural way, blonde, tall, athletic figure with toned arms as she stood with her hiking boots, explorer shorts, a summery button down, wide brimmed hat, and bandana around her neck. I gave her a nervous, friendly smile of acknowledgment, and that seemed to bring out a flirtatious smile from her. Even as the family left us, the college girl made a clear effort to look back at me one more time. "Breaking hearts already?" I heard Dad say. He'd noticed, too. "Yeah, I guess," I blushed. Dad smiled at me with a look that was both playful and proud. "I'm glad you're not conceited about your looks, Jim." "Yeah?" I laughed, a little nervously. "Should I be?" Dad nodded, and that confirmation made me excited and happy. I could see him take in my features, and I wondered if we'd really get through the day without sex. He made a quick glance to make sure no one would hear us. "You'd have every right to be an insufferable, cocky prick about how good looking you are." It was wild to hear Dad talk so frankly. He saw the surprised reaction on my face. "You know how hot you are, right?" I did feel genuinely embarrassed, on so many levels. But I felt like Dad's frankness deserved my own in reply. "Complete truth, Dad? For a long time I always thought I was just me, you know? Maybe comparing myself to guys who were better looking, or older, and thinking I was nothing special myself.... But I won't lie. Guys tell me I'm hot. A lot. And the more they do, the more I start to feel that way, you know?" Dad grinned, and I felt more than a little naive. "Fuck, that's a stupid thing to say," I added, shaking my head at myself. "It's an honest thing to say," Dad countered. I still felt embarrassed by my admission. "You're probably gonna tell me to keep a good head on my shoulders." He shook his head no. "I don't have to, Slugger, you're your own harshest critic." "I don't know about that," I laughed. Dad took a look at his watch. "Time to get back?" I asked. My father looked at me as he pulled the daypack back onto his shoulder. "Almost. I think we have time to get some snapshots on the way back to the van." We walked around the edge of the Mayan ball court - a rectangular open field between two thick wall-like structures. The tour guide had explained the Mayan games and the myth behind them, so as Dad took a photo of me, I started striking cheesy athletic poses... shooting a hoop, pointing to the imaginary stands while pretending to hold a bat, that kind of thing. It made Dad laugh, and he did some poses in a stoic military posture while I took photos with our small digital camera. We stopped a couple passing by and asked them to take our picture together. Dad and I removed our sunglasses. I debated whether to take my ball cap off as well, but I couldn't risk my hair being a mess. I smiled as I felt Dad's arm at my back and his hand on my shoulder, pulling me against him for the shot. To this day, it's one of my favorite family photos. We got back to the entrance and as we waited for the tour van, we noticed a small market place full of souvenir vendors. I pulled my Ray Bans from my eyes as I perused the small statues, flutes, and jewelry, among other trinkets. As Dad was at another stand looking at books on the Maya, I stopped at a rack of postcards and saw one with the famed pyramid. Out of nowhere, I immediately thought of Jack and picked one out, and I got another to send to Holt, too. Thank god we had a lunch stop on the way back, because by that point I was famished. If the ride out was tedious, the ride back after lunch was exhausting. Dad cracked open the new book he'd purchased at the gift shop as I couldn't help but take a nap. As a purely father-son day, I tried not to let my head fall onto Dad's shoulder, but that may have happened. When the van finally dropped us off at the front of the hotel, it was nearly 4. "You know what I want?" Dad said as we entered our room, dropping his daypack onto one of the chairs as I fell face first onto the bed, feeling sun-drained. "A nice dip in the pool." "Yeah?" I asked, turning my head, my face half obscured in the comforter. I'm not as much of a swimmer as Dad is, Navy training and all. But indeed, a dip in the pool sounded great. We each took a quick rinse to get off the sweat and grime of the day and got into our swim trunks. I showered first, stepping out of the bathroom with a towel around my waist, same as this morning, before Dad went in after me. I tossed my athletic bag onto the bed and opened it, hearing the shower start as I dug around for my swimwear. I brought only a pair of white and sky blue board shorts and some navy blue swim trunks, both came down mid-thigh length. I held each pair out, debating on which to put on. Either one was certainly going to give me a goofy tan line. I decided on the board shorts as I dropped my towel, stepping into them and sliding them up my legs. I was tying the draw string as I heard the shower shut off. A moment later, Dad stepped out, towel flung over his shoulder, hair still damp, and sporting nothing but a pair of navy blue lycra swim trunks - nothing too small, just above mid-thigh length, but definitely snug, hugging the contour of his glutes, accentuating the size of his package, and definitely very complimentary to his body. I tried not to stare, I really did. But it was hard as Dad strode back into the room with all his middle-aged muscles on display. I was still just a tad taller than Dad, but he had way wider and rounder shoulders than I did and an easily larger chest, one that I clearly envied. I loved the sight of his thick chest hair as it spread out from his deep sternum, draping across each pec, covering his skin in streaks of brown and grey as the strands circled his deep pink nipples. I loved that his body hair continued to run down his torso, over his solid core before disappearing under the synthetic material of his bathing suit. Dad ran his thick finger through his short, wet, salt-and-peppered hair as I watched his wide oblique flare, his impressive bicep bulge, and his especially large and square tricep tense. As he walked, his trunk-like thighs looked like they made that lycra work to hold itself together, the brown hair of Dad's body continuing to swath down his quads, calves, shins, and finally over the top of his feet. Seeing Dad near naked made my blood pump as I tried to keep any stirring in my trunks to a minimum. Part of me felt like I was violating our no-sex agreement by scoping him out. But my father's a stud of a man, and I finally figured it wasn't a bad thing to look. Dad and I stood in the elevator, shoulder to shoulder, no shirts, just flip flops, sunglasses, blue trunks and blue board shorts. I had my Orioles ball cap on, my blond curls poking out just under the rim. My hands gripping the rod at my back, liking the way this pose made my shoulders, delts, and triceps pop as we descended the floors of the hotel. Around Dad, I became more conscious about my posture, and I found myself trying to mimic his own perfect stance. I was two paces behind Dad as we walked out of the lobby and towards the pool, bodies on display, eyes hidden behind our shades. Dad and I chose to settle under one of the many large beach umbrellas, throwing our towels over the reclining lounge chairs as I took off my cap, letting the top of my hair blow free. There was only one other family there with us, seemingly Scandinavian, at the other end of the pool area at this hour, so we mostly had the surrounding area to ourselves. The pool itself was huge, but not rectangular like the Olympic pools that I've grown accustomed to seeing at gyms and the campus rec center. It curved wildly and created so many rounded alcoves for a semi-private dip. It was also long, stretching almost the length of the hotel, but it was hard to see past all the palm trees and cabanas. I watched Dad walk with that military swagger, shoulders back and strong chin held high as I could see the Navy in his stride. And while I often fixated on the front view, his backside was also magnificent, with broad shoulders melding seamlessly into bulging lats that tapered down to his lycra-encased butt. His cheeks were full and muscular, but Dad didn't have an athlete's ass, as the round globes had a little more give with each of the man's strides. It was the ass of a fit man in his late 40s, and I couldn't have been more entranced. I knew I'd get a hardon if my thoughts continued along this path, so I unfolded my oversized beach towel over a chair and took off my sunglasses. "The water looks perfect," I said, trying to hide my growing horniness, quickly turning my groin and semi from Dad's view . I kicked off my flip flops and strode right over to the pool edge. The water was indeed cool and refreshing as I jumped right in. I gave a playful lap and swam back to the edge of the pool, planting my palms on the rim, and easily pulled myself out of the water. Refreshed and cooled off in more way than one, I stepped back onto the still-warm concrete, walking back to the lounge chair with water running down my skin, my white and pale blue shorts now glued around my soft shaft and ass as I ran both my hands over my head, slicking my hair back. Dad's grey eyes were clearly on me now, like they had been this morning. He'd set down his sunglasses and stood there in just his lycra trunks and his waterproof military watch, looking handsome as hell. Damn, my father was lusting after my body, and the knowledge made my dripping muscular body shudder with a slight shiver. Today had been a normal father-son day, but at that moment I started wonder if Dad would renege on his "no sex" policy for the day. I immediately blushed and gave Dad a nervous smile. He returned a sly wink as he strode past me. He didn't dive right in but waded into the cool pool water on the shallow end before plunging forward and starting some laps. I put on my sunglasses, wondering if anything was in store for me and Dad that evening. I wasn't in the mood to swim but instead decided to enjoy the shallow pool, where I could look out over the sea and the pool area. The JW Marriott Resort that Dad had booked us was very much a "No-Spring Breakers" kind of place. The private pool and private beach area felt miles away from the loud parties just down the boulevard. We were mostly out of the sun, given its angle in the afternoon sky, now moving behind the hotel. I ended up sitting on a shelf along the edge of the pool, elbows up, relaxing while Dad continued his laps. It amazed me how little I knew about Dad's Navy routines when he wasn't at home with me. It made me wonder what kind of workouts Dad did while on base. After a good while, we got out of the water before our fingers started to prune and we gathered our towels and reclined on the loungers. Dad and I laid back, next to each other, hair wet and sporting our shades once more. The other family was almost out of sight as Dad I found ourselves practically secluded. "Best use of my hotel points in a long time," Dad said as he relaxed back, his large arms folded behind his head, as he looked at me from behind his sunglasses. I had my cap on the concrete next to me, my blond hair still damp and combed back messily. Dad's hair had lost its neatness, his dampened bangs now curling over his forehead as I took in his handsome but dashing new look. His upper body was still damp and his hairs wetted down, sticking to the muscles and accentuating the contours. I loved the way the hairs matted even more thickly between his pecs and in his armpits. His thick biceps balled on either side of his head, the effect showing off his Navy-toned, middle-aged muscle even more. "No argument there, Dad," I said as I let my head fall back, feeling like I could take a nap here and now. "I think I'm going to get a beer, Jimbo. Want one?" After being out in the sun all day that sounded great. "Yes, please." I watched Dad's hunky body as he got up, his lycra clinging to his strong ass as he slid his feet into his flip flops and walked over to the cabana bar area. He soon came back with two frosty cold bottles of Mexican beer topped with fresh lime wedges. He handed me the sweating bottle as he sat back and reclined back into his chair before we clinked beers and enjoyed the first sips. The breeze was kicking in, and I didn't think life could get any better than this. "What are you thinking, Slugger?" Dad asked, one arm behind his head as we lay back and enjoyed the late afternoon vibe. I had been looking at Dad's semi-nude body through my sunglasses and felt busted scoping him out. "I'm not sure if I should say," I replied cautiously. I didn't want to go against the no-sex idea for the day. Dad chuckled softly. "You can say, Jim." I grinned to mask my bit of apprehension. "I was just thinking... maybe I should have been in the Navy if I want to keep my body as in-shape as yours when I get older." I think my comment surprised Dad as he lifted his shades to look at me, eyes intrigued as he raised his brow. "Yeah?" He let his eyes gesture down to his reclining, hairy and fit, but middle-aged, Navy officer body. "If I'd put money on it, I'd wager you'll have a better body than this at 49." He took a sip of beer. "But if you're so dedicated, you could always join the Navy," he winked as he let his sunglasses fall back over his eyes. "You know, Dad," I said with a bit of timidness as I thumbed my beer bottle, "I told John back in Norfolk that I still wonder whether or not I should have joined after high school." Dad gave me an affectionate look and a small smile. "I won't say that I wouldn't have been proud if you did. It is a McGrath tradition." "And I'd love to live up to that tradition," I said as I thought about my following words. "But, I guess I worry I'd be doing it for you instead of for me." I felt bad admitting that, and I worried Dad would think less of me for saying it. Instead he seemed to register what I was saying. I could tell he had that proud look in his eyes, even behind the sunglasses. "It should be for you," he said. "If you ever decide it is, there's always Officer Candidate School. Or, the Navy needs fine enlisted men, too." "Seaman Apprentice McGrath?" I asked with a coy smile, trying on the idea in my head and imagining myself standing in formation, dressed down in a Navy sailor's uniform. "That'd be cool. Not sure I'd want my big brother bossing me around," I joked. Dad laughed, a soft rumble emanating from his chest. "Well, see where baseball and college take you in life and know that the service is always an option if you want it to be. And just to be clear, no shame in going the enlisted route. There are going to be plenty of Petty Officers that'll terrify Matt once he's an Ensign." I chuckled and nodded thoughtfully. If I did join, I'd probably be better at the physical sailoring duty rather than sitting behind a desk, doing all that military paperwork. Part of the future excited me, but scared me too. Like I really needed a Plan B if my baseball dreams didn't pan out. "So... speaking of humoring me," Dad said with a smirk, interrupting my deeper thoughts, "Did you enjoy the tour today? On the level." I nodded as I laid back onto the lounger, dropping my shades into my upturned cap on the floor next to me. "Oh yeah. It was incredible. I mean, I was flagging a bit after a while, so sorry about that...." "Don't apologize. It's your vacation, too." "You got more activities planned tomorrow?" I asked, looking over at him with a smile as I brought my bottle back to my curling lips. "We'll see," Dad said, tipping the neck of his bottle at me. "Let's play our time here by ear." "Sounds good," I said, but in the front of my mind was a question - would we be playing the sex by ear, too? Dad had made it sound like the no-sex thing was for today only. There was a sudden silence between us as Dad turned his sights to the view. He took in a deep breath as I imagined he seemed to be thinking something similar, or maybe reading my mind as he looked out onto the horizon. "You asked me a question yesterday, son," my father brought up in a slow, deliberate tone. "Why I changed my mind about us." He finally turned to look at me, his face soft but serious. I leaned up. I was eager to hear his answer but didn't want to press him for it. "It just didn't feel fair to you," he said. "You put yourself out there, and I kept holding back. I can tell you've been wanting more, and I can't always give you that. But, Slugger, lately I've been wanting it, too." "Is that why you asked me on this trip?" I asked as I turned onto my side, now resting my elbow. "Only half the reason," he said. I couldn't see his eyes well behind the dark glasses but I knew very much the expression he had in them. "You've been really down this year, with the injury. I don't know, I thought a trip would do you good." "It has," I said. I looked back at him. "Already." "Even without the sex, I mean?" Dad asked in a soft, low tone. I could tell his eyes were gauging, reading my face and body language. It was still strange to hear my father talk so openly about our sexual connection. "Even without the sex," I repeated with a determined smile. "It would still be doing me good, Dad." I corrected myself, "It IS doing me good." "I'm glad to hear." He leaned back, relaxing again. He looked over at me. "You know I still gotta be your Dad, right?" "I wouldn't have it any other way," I answered as I rolled back onto my back. "In that case, I gotta ask.... you getting out there, Jimbo? Dating?" "Not dating anyone, Dad," I said. "I've had hooked up with a few guys at school, but I try to be careful." "How many's a few?" he asked, concerned. "Like five," I said, counting only the guys I'd slept with since going to college. I felt bad fibbing to my father, but I wasn't prepared to give him the whole truth. "I got a buddy who helps me out regularly. But we're friends, really." "It's good to go slow and be cautious," he said. Then he added, with a firm tone, "I don't want whatever we do to get in the way of your seeing guys." "It won't Dad," I said confidently. But the minute I spoke the words I wasn't so sure. Maybe Dad had good cause to be concerned. He sipped more from his beer, just about finishing the bottle. "You thinking of going to that party tonight?" he asked as I could hear just a bit of encouragement in his words. I had forgotten about Cliff Stenson's invitation. If this was back at school, Holt and I would be talking about it all day. "I hadn't given too much thought to it," I said, shrugging my shoulders before I tipped my bottle all the way back. "You should go," he said simply. It was a total Robert McGrath thing to say. An observation, a suggestion, even, but you kind of knew there was more to it than that. "I don't really know those guys," I said as I set my empty beer bottle down. "All right," Dad said quietly, but in his way that had me questioning myself. He probably had a reason for wanting me to go, or he wouldn't have brought it up. Maybe he was concerned I was latching on too much to him. After all, he'd called off sex between us for the day, maybe longer. Or maybe he just wanted a quiet night by himself. A cocktail waiter soon brought us a second round as our conversation soon turned back to more laid-back, vacation subjects. It felt good to laugh and drink with Dad without a care in the world. As we finished up our beer, the late afternoon was now feeling especially lazy. The shadow of the hotel soon stretched out into the ocean, Dad looked at his watch and suggested we head back to the room to get changed for dinner. Still in nothing but half wet trunks and flip flops, Dad and I made our way back to the room. Dad popped into shower first, and as I heard the water running, I began pulling clothes out of my bag, thinking again about Dad's suggestion that I try to be a 20-year-old on spring break. When Dad stepped out, towel wrapped around his waist, I said, "You know, I think I'll go to that party after all. If it's OK with you." Dad stepped up to the dresser where he'd carefully stowed his folded clothes. He had a low-key smile. "You know it's OK. I want you to have a good time, Slugger. Your old man is just going to spend a boring evening in the hotel reading." I felt better about my decision. I got into the bathroom to shower. As I peeled down my damp swim trunks, I relished the freedom and cool air on my nude body and especially my genitals. My dick had a mind of its own and immediately began firming up, expanding outward and pretty quickly rising to a full-on erection. I looked up at my reflection, letting out a grateful sigh as I watched my fingers wrap around my shaft, just as I gave it an initial long, steady stroke. My prick grew fully rigid in my hand quickly. I figured I had enough time to relieve myself, and as I tugged a bit more, a bit faster, the thoughts of the afternoon came flooding back to me. Being around Dad all day had made me especially horny, and I shut my eyes thinking about his nude body. The matted wet hairs on his burly chest, the way the swim suit clung to his meaty ass. Visions of Dad's body and my lust for him. His lust for me. It might be no-sex day, but I knew Dad wanted me, and that turned me on like mad. I opened my eyes and took in my own younger body. Ripped muscles flexing and twitching as I jerked my fat cock. Athletic and getting back to its top shape after my injury. I thought of what I'd told Dad earlier about knowing that guys liked my body. It was a cocky thing to think, but at that moment as I jerked, I knew Dad was into my body, too. He had more self-control than me, but he wanted me. I felt it, the surge of pleasure in my loins and the heat, almost sting, of my semen pulsing up my tube and out my urethra. Heavy spurts shot out on the sink, hitting the mirror. An orgasm's an orgasm, I suppose, but this self-pleasuring felt more like release than the height of sexual ecstasy. I quickly cleaned up the sink then started the shower. ***** Dad and I ate at the hotel restaurant downstairs - table clothes, ambient music, and an amazing view of the late sunset over the ocean as Dad and I enjoyed a three-course meal. There was a mismatch between the casual dress of most of the diners and the formality of the waiter in a vest and tie. In my mind, I imagined this kind of service at the officer's club on base. It was about 8:30 when the busboy cleared the table for us. "So you headed over now?" Dad asked as the waiter brought his credit card back to the table. "Yeah, I guess so," I said as I sipped at my water, the only thing left on the table. "You really okay with me going?" I asked, just double checking. Because in all honesty, I really could have just as easily gone back up to the room with Dad. "Go, Jim," Dad said with a stern half smile as he put his card back in his wallet. "Have fun. I've spent plenty of evenings alone since you've been up at college." "Okay," I replied agreeably. I stepped out of the hotel, leaving Dad in the foyer as he told me once more to go have fun. The early night weather was great, the air was still warm, the stars were coming as the last blue hues of the sunset faded. The boulevard lit up around me as the nightlife slowly awoke with music and people. I'd inadvertently left my ball cap in the room, so I hope my hair looked good, tasseled by the breeze. The hotel where Cliff was staying wasn't too far for a late night stroll. I didn't think it was as nice as mine and Dad's hotel, but it was a tall, multi-story resort hotel like so many on the strip. I could only remember the floor and not the exact room number as I entered the elevator. But when I stepped onto the floor, I immediately could tell from the sounds down the hall which room it was. When I got to the door, a frattish dude answered as he stood in the doorway. He was the kind of guy who wasn't an athlete but spent a lot of time at the gym, a little shorter than me with a smaller but comparable build. He was about 6-foot even, with short messy brown hair, bright green eyes, and a very nice gym-honed body. Definitely a frat guy like Cliff, his objectively handsome face dusted with stubble. He looked dressed for the party, still in a pair of colorful board shorts, flip flops, and tank that showed off his bulky and defined arms. "Hey," he said in a tone that sounded already half-drunk. "I'm a friend of Cliff's," I said as I gave the guy a friendly smile. That must have been the magic word, as it was like I was his best buddy just then. His youthfully handsome face softened, as he finally let out his drunken smile. He ushered me in, making space for me as I stepped into the lowly lit hotel room. There was music under the commotion of people sitting on just about every surface. There were college aged people in the room, and in the connecting one through the open door.... American, young, still in bathing suits and various layers of dress, all milling about, chatting while leaning on the walls and furniture, or sitting on the beds with drinks in hand. I made my way inside and into a throng of sun-warmed, half-naked bodies. "I'm Brandon." I turned to see the grinning frat dude next to me as he introduced himself. "Jim," I said, giving him a nod as I flashed him a smile. "Let me get you a shot, bro. You don't look nearly wasted enough." Indeed, I had only a couple of beers that afternoon by the pool and was out of sync with the level of inebriation of the crowd of people in the room. Brandon stepped away as I looked around the crowd. Back at campus, I'd sometimes go to fraternity parties, with Holt or one of my teammates, but I generally preferred a lower-key group of fellow jocks. Brandon came back, appearing through the crowd with a couple of plastic shot glasses and a bottle of tequila with him. We made a little toast before we slammed them back. I made a little grimace at the hard burn going down. I felt a tap on my shoulder. Cliff had appeared out of the crowd with a can of beer in hand. He too was still dressed in only trunks and flip flops, with an open, unbuttoned, short-sleeve shirt hanging off his shoulders. He had the defined abs and chest to pull off the look. "Glad you could make it, bro," Cliff said as he gave me a handclasp/hug, like the day before, but tighter as he pulled me in. His body was sunburned and felt hot against me, even through my T. He didn't have Brandon's musculature, but he was still built solid. "Thanks for having me, man," I said as I took in the sight of people all around us, noticing that Brandon was now pouring shots for others. Cliff led me to the balcony where it was quieter, the people talking softer as Cliff introduced me to more of his friends. He handed me a cold beer as I got to know his crowd and some of the people there. About half were from UVA, the other half from Alabama. Cliff's buddy, Mike, was another business major too, and we talked at one point about classes. But I realized that people were there to party, not talk school. I will admit, it was fun to hang out and get buzzed. Part of me wished Holt was here, he'd be the life of the party in no time. Hanging out with the college crowd was probably what I needed. I had been real cautious since my incident with Jason the previous summer, dropping my guard and pursuing an allegedly straight boy. So, I avoided getting hammered. But I watched as Brandon stepped out onto the balcony with a new bottle of tequila. And as the muscled bro handed me another shot, I took it. There was hooting and cheers as Brandon and I downed the shots together. I cleared my throat afterwards, not drunk enough to drink it like water just yet. The guy had a fun smile, more boyish than handsome as I watched him pour a shot for Cliff and the others. It wasn't long before Cliff handed me another shot. The group of us on the balcony, now with shots in hand as Brandon held up the nearly empty bottle. "Cavaliers! Spring Break! 04!" he toasted loudly, all of us shouting before we all downed our shot, Brandon taking his right from the bottle. "Cavaliers!" someone yelled as Cliff gripped my shoulder as we yelled into the night air. At some point Cliff and I were kind of wedged into a corner of the balcony, talking as he slurred a little, gushy in his buzz. "Fuck, why don't we ever hang out?" the handsome dude asked me, like we normally would. I was familiar with straight guys and the happy-drunk variety, so I knew not to overread into the intense look in Cliff's eyes then. But I felt a weird and powerful attraction to him then. Particularly when he cracked a pearly white smile. "You're not one of those stuck up jocks are you?" I laughed. He was drunker than I was. "Nah, man," I deflected his taunt with a goofy smile. He wrapped his arm around my shoulder and I felt the heat and hard bicep muscle against my shoulder. "You're a cool dude, Jim," he said against my ear as we grinned at each other. Just then the music volume spiked, and two of the sorority girls started dancing together to a recent pop song as the dudes laughed, cheered, and looked on lasciviously. Nothing bad happened this time. I drank a lot and had a fun time. But man, those thoughts came creeping up. I'd moved on from Cliff and started noticing Brandon as he talked and laughed with a couple guys across the room. 6-foot, tan, hunky Brandon. His board shorts hung over an amazing bubble ass that knew I wanted to chew on right before I fucked him. I imagined hauling him into the bathroom and shutting the door. I bet his mouth tasted like tequila, sucking on his tongue and biting his lips before I'd shuck those board shorts down his legs, spin him around and bend him over the counter top. I could almost sense his hard tan line, his drum-tight asshole, and his deep choked grunts begging me for more as I pounded his muscled ass. I pushed the thoughts aside as I watched Brandon laugh at something being told to him. As the party rolled on, the guys, Cliff and Brandon included, went from buzzed to soused. At one point, Brandon and I found ourselves in the room leaning against the wall, facing each other in deep but drunken conversation. We laughed as I watched his glossy green eyes animate with the details of his story. I enjoyed the way the guy would touch me, clasp my shoulder or playfully punch my arm in drunken camaraderie. At any other time, it would have made me feel like shit, pining after dudes I couldn't make it with. But I enjoyed my little fantasies. This time, I had the good sense to leave before I got too drunk, despite the party being in full swing. I said my goodbyes to Cliff and Brandon, and the few other people I'd met, Cliff telling me that we had to hang out when we got back to the States, and UVA. I said I would, but it was one of those promises that I wasn't sure either of us would keep. It was about 11:30 when I ambled my way back to the JW Marriott. The reception staff were wary to see a drunk college kid stumble in. "Can I help you, sir?" one of the concierge staff asked from behind the desk. "I'm in Room 905. McGrath," I said, pulling out my room key. He waved me on through. I entered the empty elevator, leaning back and closing my eyes as I could definitely feel like I was on the cusp of going from heavily buzzed, to drunk. Fuck, good thing I had the sense to not make a bad judgement call. The ring of the elevator prompted me to open my eyes as I walked the final yards to the room door. "A good time, I take it?" I heard Dad ask as I opened the door. He was sitting in bed, shirtless in just a pair of cotton sleeping pants, reading his book with one lamp on. I stumbled in like a zombie, kicking off my flip flops. "Yes," I replied with a sloppy grin. "I'm drunk though. Sorry, sir," I muttered in apology after I struggled getting my shirt off. Dad laughed. "I've seen worse." "Not from me," I added, undoing my shorts, letting them drop and leaving them on the floor, leaving me in just my black boxer briefs. I wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed right then and there. "No. And I better not," he said, only half joking, amused at my state. I pissed and brushed my teeth. And when I stepped out, Dad was setting down his book and slipping down into a reclining position. I lifted my side of the sheet and crawled into bed in just my underwear. "Ready for some sleep, Slugger?" "Yes, sir," I said drunkenly, already shutting my eyes. "Just promise me we're not getting up at 6:30 for some fucking hike." I used to never swear around Dad, and still it was pretty rare that I did, at least in such a gratuitous manner. Dad chuckled. "Promise, son." With that, he turned out the light.