Date: Thu, 22 Feb 2018 16:14:57 +0000
From: Bill Drake <billdrake@hotmail.com>
Subject: Naval Tradition 31

Naval Tradition
Bill Drake (billdrake@hotmail.com)


NOTICE: THE FOLLOWING IS FOR ADULTS ONLY. It is gay erotic fiction
explicitly depicting sexual acts between male relatives. If that offends or
disturbs you, read no further. If not, sit back, unzip, pull it out, and
enjoy.


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For more of my stories, see the Prolific Authors page here at Nifty
archive.


31

Norfolk June 2006

We were almost crowded in the living room. Uncle Mike had come down from
Chicago with Stan Foster, an agent buddy of his. Coach Weir from my high
school team was there, as was a sports reporter from the local
newspaper. There was me and Dad, of course. And my high school buddy Rich
Bryant as in town and over for moral support.

Mr. Foster held his cell phone to his ear, listening to what the man on the
other end was saying. He looked up and shook his head. We knew immediately
what he meant: not this round.

The MLB draft isn't the spectacle of the NFL's. It's a conference call
between GMs and their staff. And there are no cameras on drafted players
putting on uniform jerseys. Even the top draftees play in obscurity, for a
couple of years, and many never make it to the majors.

I wasn't wanting cameras, and I wasn't going to be one of the top
draftees. But I'd had a standout season my senior year and my stats were
great. We'd known the first day of the draft was out of the question, but
we were cautiously optimistic that Day 2 would be my day.

Only it was mid-afternoon and round nine had come, and I wasn't going to be
part of that.

Dad looked over at me and could read my mind. "Doing OK, Jimbo?" He was
nervous and excited for me, too, but he had this optimism and faith in me
that helped calm me.

I wiped my palms on my shorts. "Just nervous."

"Why don't you take a walk or something? Work off your energy and clear
your mind?"

"I can come with," Rich chimed in. "If you want company."

"Yeah, sure. Good idea."

We walked around my neighborhood, not hurrying. We talked about my hopes
and fears. Rich wasn't normally the kind of guy to talk about serious stuff
but he seemed to want to let me get things off my chest. I did.

We talked too about his plans after graduation. He was moving off to
Atlanta to start a corporate job.

After a minute of silence, Rich spoke up. "Jim, I never told you, but I
want to thank you for opening my mind to the gay thing."

I was surprised by his comment. Rich had always been laid back and
accepting of me and I didn't realize I'd opened his mind to anything.

He continued. "My Dad's come out the last year." I know I blushed thinking
of Mr. Bryant. My first date. The guy I'd fucked behind Rich's back. "I
think deep down that's why my parents got divorced. Anyway, I don't know
how I'd be handling it if I didn't know you."

"Thanks, bud," I said. "I, well, I hope things are OK with your family. We
all have to figure out our journey. Hell, I'm still figuring mine out."

"Whaddya mean?"

"Going pro. I gotta keep the gay thing under wraps."

"That sucks."

"Yeah."

Rich shrugged his shoulders. "Hell, if you can survive Norfolk you can
survive life in the minors."

Rich always knew what to say.

Finally it was time to head back. When we walked in, I could sense a
palpable excitement. Mr. Foster was on the phone again, and Uncle Mike and
Dad were leaning in, anticipating. Round Ten was starting.

We all sat silent, and everyone seemed to be avoiding eye contact.

Finally, Mr. Foster's face broke into a huge smile and he placed his hand
on the receiver. "Number 288, Astros!"

The room erupted in a cheer and Dad leapt up to clasp me in a bear hug. "Oh
Slugger!" he growled in my ear. "So proud of you, buddy."

Mr. Foster walked off into the other room to finish up his conversation and
when he came back he had more details. $10,000 signing bonus, and I'd be
reporting to the rookie league team next week.

My uncle clasped my shoulder excitedly. "That's an amazing pick, Jim," he
said.

My former coach shook my hand then clasped me in a hug, too. "We're all
proud of you."

I heard a pop and saw Dad with a bottle of champagne and some plastic
cups. I hadn't even had champagne up to that point but it was the best
tasting thing at that moment. The guys toasted me and I gave an impromptu
speech thanking them for their support over the years.

I talked with the reporter guy so he'd have some good quotes for his story,
then he took a few pictures. Then he and Coach Weir took off.

Dad said he was taking us out for a steak dinner to celebrate. I ducked out
for a minute and sent off an email to Sean. Even if he was in a different
time zone or not able to check email, I couldn't wait to share my news with
him.

Dinner was half celebration, half business. Mr. Foster told me the ins and
outs of my contract, and things to be careful of. Uncle Mike at one point
chimed in, "You know they'll pay you chicken shit unless you get to the
majors, right?"

I nodded. "I'm getting that impression. At this point it's something I
gotta do. See if I can make it."

As we walked out of the restaurant, Dad put his arm on my shoulder. He was
so happy and his excitement added to mine. "Why don't you and Rich go out
and have some fun? You deserve to party without us old folks."

Part of me wanted to share every bit of this moment with Dad but the idea
of really celebrating did seem good.

"You up for that?" I asked Rich.

"Bud, I think some tequila shots are in order." He turned to Dad. "Don't
worry Mr. McGrath, I'll be designated driver."

****

"You're not gonna forget me when you're famous, are you?" Rich asked as I
slowly sipped my light beer, two shots under my belt already.

"You never forget your friends," I replied. I know that wasn't much of an
answer but that's how I felt. Especially with Rich. We hadn't spent much
time together after going off to separate colleges but when we got together
it was like we picked right back off.

Rich nodded as if my words made sense. He leaned back and shook his
head. "Tenth round. Jesus, Jim, that's a fucking accomplishment."

"I'm still pinching myself." The giddiness and surreal nature of being
drafted hadn't worn off.

"You earned it," Rich said. Then he looked down at the progress of my pint
glass. "And you earned that next tequila shot."

"Only if you have one too, man," I said, feeling buzzed.

"I got be the designated driver," Rich reminded me.

"Oh."

He had an idea. "I'll call my Dad to see if he can give us a ride. You OK
with staying at my place tonight?"

I nodded and Rich ducked outside to call his father. I felt my cock stir
thinking about Mr. Bryant. With the excitement of the draft I'd not so much
as jerked off in a few days and I was feeling my libido come charging back
now. I knew I shouldn't be lusting after Rich's dad like this, and I half
hoped Mr. B wouldn't want to come pick us up. But I was excited when Rich
came back saying we had an hour and a half to party up before his dad came
by the bar.

I was feeling drunk, happy drunk, when Mr. Bryant swung his luxury sedan to
the bar entrance. It was a warm June night and he was dressed casually in
shorts and a polo, looking like a million bucks. His salt-and-pepper was
grayer now than last time I saw him, and with his summer tan it set off his
handsome features even more.

"Good evening, Mr. Bryant," I greeted him as I crawled in the back seat.

"Congratulations, Jim," the man said, looking back, his eyes twinkling. He
wasn't flirting with me but I knew he was attracted to me. I was more
muscular and in better shape than last time I saw him.

"Thanks, sir," I said. "I'm pretty thrilled."

"I bet."

The Bryant house was pretty big for just being Mr. B there, and I was able
to have my own bed in the guest room. With all the alcohol I could have
conked out to sleep but I was feeling keyed up from the draft and from
thinking about sex. I peeled off my clothes, getting into the bed nude and
stroking my hardon. I didn't know if Mr. Bryant would be up for anything
and it was presumptuous to assume he would be. But, damn, the idea of
boning Mr. B had me hard as fuck.

I heard a tap at the door and I pulled the sheet over my midsection.

"Come in," I said.

It was Mr. B, shirtless and just in his shorts. Coming out had suited him,
he'd gotten into real shape, with a gym-toned DILF body. "You got
everything you need, Jim?"

"Yes, sir," I said. "Um, it's real good to see you again, Mr. B."

He smiled, and I could see him exhale a big breath. "Real good to see you,
too, Jim." His voice dropped to a whisper. "You're looking good as
ever. Even better."

I slid down my covers to the man could see my erection. Pulsing and
throbbing in anticipation. "You're so fucking hot Mr. B." That made the man
really smile, and he quietly closed and locked the bedroom door and undid
his shorts, peeling them down to show a nude body underneath. I thought
Mr. Bryant had a nice body before but now he was a toned, slimmed-down
version of his middle-aged build, complete with taut abs and a flat stomach
that led down to a well-groomed bush and a regular sized dick, which was
firming up by the minute.

I was feeling playful now. "Can I let you in on a little secret, Mr. B?"

"What, Jim?"

"I knew you were attracted to me. The minute I saw you tonight."

He laughed quietly. "Pretty cocky, huh?"

I shook my head. "Oh, I didn't know if anything was gonna happen, but I
knew you were into me." I kicked the covers off the rest of the way. "I'm
into you, too, Ed. If something didn't happen I'd have the worst case of
blue balls right now."

He smiled and stepped toward the bed. "We can't have that, can we?"

"No, sir."

Our lips met, communicating our mutual lust and soon we were making out,
Mr. B feeling up my bulkier muscles and me caressing his toned DILF bod.

Pretty soon my friend's father reached behind him and grabbed my cock,
prying it up like a crowbar, then sitting on it. He was wet, lubed already
and he acknowledged the thought that was going through my head. "When Rich
called I got ready... in case you wanted this."

"Oh, I want it, Mr. B." I pushed forward with my hips, nudging my cock into
the folds of his hot pucker. He was tight but not as tight as our last
encounter. I suspected Mr. B had been getting some action, and I was happy
for him.

Slowly, I entered him as he braced his body with his hands on my chest and
looked down on me with a look of satisfaction, with a little disbelief at
my girth. "Damn, you're a big boy."

I recalled our sex talk during our last pairing. "Daddy likes 'em big
though, huh?"

"I shouldn't but yeah, I'm glad my son's hung like a horse."

I shoved in, all the way and instead of discomfort, Mr. B. was feeling all
pleasure. Particularly when I drove up again. And again. He held steady as
he could and even started rocking his hips to time up with my thrusts. We
were in synch, physically and sexually.

"Fuck your daddy, son." He spoke quietly but in a commanding tone.

His words excited me further, and I fucked harder, running my hands all
along his body.  "Oh sir," I moaned.

"That's it. Punch my dad hole. My boy's had a big day, and he deserves a
nice daddy fuck."

I don't remember Mr. B having such a way with the sex talk but it was
pushing my buttons in a big way. "Fuck. I'm gonna cum in you, sir." My hips
were driving hard now, and I was eager to get my nut.

Mr. B nodded at me, encouraging me, knowing I was gonna cum inside him
soon. He gripped his own bone and started stroking steadily working up his
orgasm. He actually came a half second before me, spraying my torso with
his hot seed as I started to unload inside him.

As we came down, we made out for a minute then Mr. B climbed off.

"Thanks, sir, I needed that," I finally said softly. My eyelids were heavy,
the excitement of the day and the alcohol finally catching up to me after
my sexual release.

"You know how to make a middle-aged man happy," he half-joked. "I have an
early tee time in the morning so I probably won't see you tomorrow," he
said as he picked up his shorts and stepped into them. I guess, in case
Rich was up to see him in the hall. "But it was great seeing you Jim. And
again, congratulations."

"Thanks, Mr. B. Good night."

I didn't even hear the door click shut I was already on my way to sleep.


***

Uncle Mike spent a few more days visiting us, staying through the
weekend. He's always been an inspiration and an encouraging force in my
playing baseball, but over those few days I got the most valuable advice
about playing pro that I'd ever get.

So it wasn't like I was eager to see him leave, but I was looking forward
to some alone time with Dad before heading to Tennessee for my rookie
league assignment. The previous three weeks had been such a
whirlwind. Graduation, moving out of the Charlottesville house that had so
many memories, preparing for the draft.

Dad and I had fooled around a couple of times my last semester. I wasn't
sure if he'd told Jack Grant about us or not, and I wasn't going to push
the issue. I knew Dad would do what's right when the time was
appropriate. But his relationship with Jack hung over us, and I wondered if
he would want to have sex again before I went off.

The very idea that he might had me horny that day after Uncle Mike left. It
was Monday and Dad was back at work, leaving me around the house on my
own. I spent the day packing and getting a good workout in. Getting laid
with Mr. Bryant had taken some of the edge off my libido, but I was boning
up off and on all afternoon. I wanted to stroke off real bad but held off.

Maybe it was taking a chance but I was wearing just a pair of my gym shorts
when Dad got home. He was dressed in his summer whites and looked
incredible. My Dad's a hot man, but the uniform transforms him into a god
in my eyes.

"Hi Slugger. Have a good day?"

"Yessir," I said, frog in my throat. I could see that Dad was throwing hard
in his uniform as he stepped around the couch. "Oh, fuck, Dad, I was hoping
you'd..." I didn't even finish my thought, which didn't need finishing.

I reached out and touched his packed crotch as he stood before me. His cock
was so hard and so big, it gave me a shudder to touch it.

"I've been thinking about this all day," he said softly as his fingers
descended to unzip and fish out his prick.

You'd think I'd get used to that cock, its massive size and shape, the
meaty foreskin at the tip, but each time it was like I experience my father
anew. His power, his masculinity, his and sexual urge.

The precum drooling out of the skin tasted salty, saltier than I'd
remembered Dad tasting. I darted my tongue out and pressed it in, next to
the glans and running around the foreskin. Dad's fingers ran through my
hair as he stood stationary and let me lick the tip of his cock.

We'd done it like this once, Dad in his uniform while I blew him, but I'd
forgotten the rush of it. I didn't push my pace, but hungrily I started
swallowing his giant dick, working it into my mouth and relaxing my throat
muscles. Not making it all the way down, but a good two-thirds the length.

Dad let out a contented, excited sigh as I held him deep in my gullet, then
I backed off, tracing my tongue along the ridges of his penis and
stimulating the bulge where his cockhead flared out the skin. With a simple
motion, Dad reached down and pulled his foreskin back, right before its
reentry.

I was giving Dad head now, going up and down on his tool as he spread his
legs and pivoted his hips forward to give me access to his cock.

"Suck me, Slugger," his deep voice bellowed into the living room. "My son's
got a hot mouth on him." His breathing was picking up and his hips thrust
gently forward, though he still let me do most of the work.

My hand pushed through the waist band of my shorts and I started stroking
myself. I wanted to cum with Dad's cock in my mouth, and I knew I would cum
soon. Indeed, as I bobbed up and down and applied suction to my best, my
cock spurted into my hand, and the reduced oxygen fed the intensity of my
orgasm.

Dad's prick jerked in my mouth and discharged a heavy volley of sperm into
my sucking throat. And again. It was going to be a big cum for him, I could
tell

Dad stepped back, steadying himself as I leaned back on my haunches and
withdrew my cum-covered hand from my shorts. Dad's dick was still dribbling
and his fingers reached down to catch the extra jism.

"Thanks, Jim, I needed that." Dad said. "What do you say we order a pizza
and enjoy the nice evening?"

I agreed and we both cleaned up and changed.

****

That night, we talked out on the back deck. Dad checked in to see how I was
feeling after the draft.

"Awesome, Dad. I honestly don't know if I have the talent for going the
distance, but I'm going to give it my best."

We discussed my move to Tennessee and what I'd need to do to get ready in
the next week.

"It looks like I'm going to get that transfer to DC," Dad said. "Would you
be upset if I sold the house?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "It's your house, Dad. You don't need my
permission to sell it."

"Well, I'm not asking your permission. But I know you and your brothers
have considered this home."

"I dunno. I guess it'll be a big change. But I'll adjust just fine."

He sighed a little. "I know that graduation and the draft are big changes,
Jim, and I want you to know that wherever I'm based, you can always call it
home."

I nodded. I'm not sure if I liked it when Dad got sappy and emotional like
this or not.

"Maybe I'll hold off till spring to sell. That way you can have a place to
stay in the off season."

"I guess I'm going to have to find a job for then."

"First things first, Jim. For now, focus on showing those minor league men
when you got. I'm always happy to help out financially or whatever way I
can."

"Thanks, Dad."

I held up my empty beer bottle. "Another?"

"Sure. I should be watching my waist line more, but it's not often I get
time with you like this."

I brought back two cold ones and I felt a general contentment hanging out
with Dad like this. Two adults. I wouldn't be so presumptuous to call us
equals but somehow we were talking man-to-man. I wondered how much things
would change as I got older, got my own life.

Dad's words snapped me back to the present. "So... Jim.... I told Jack
about us."

"Yeah?" I was nervous about what Dad was going to say.

"He understands what we have going on."

"Wow," I said. It was very heady to think Dad had told his boyfriend about
us and that Jack was OK with it. "You serious?"

Dad nodded and smiled. "I don't want to abuse his trust, though."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning what we have should be an occasional thing. Very occasional."

"Understood. But Dad...?"

"Yes, Slugger?"

"If we did it one more time before I left would that be bad?"

"We'll see," he said thoughtfully. Then winking at me. "You know, you are
one hell of a cocksucker."

"You inspire some of my best work," I laughed.


****

I gave Dad his space, but I wanted another sexual connection before I left
for the summer. Maybe because I knew it would be a long time before I had
sex with another man again. Even more than in college I'd have to be
careful in the minors, not soliciting sex or getting caught.

And, yeah, I craved getting fucked by Dad again. The way I was feeling that
week, I wondered how I'd survive the rush of hormones over the summer. By
Thursday, I was climbing the walls again, boning up all afternoon. I washed
out an empty bottle and lay back on my bed, working the vaselined neck
against my pucker and finally into my hole. I was getting more used to
bottoming, used to the sensation and more able to relax my insides for a
man. But it could still be a struggle and Dad was hung really big.

I thought of him as I twisted the bottle inside myself, punching into a
deeper spot.

"Fuck!" I hissed and lay my head back and spread my legs wider. I pretended
Dad was above me, fucking into me, deeper and faster. I thought of his
uniform and how hot he looked in it.

That gave me an idea. I extracted the beer bottle and set it on the bedside
table. I remembered something Dad had shared with me, that he was turned on
by my high school baseball uniform. It was a kinky confession, and I
figured that since he indulged my uniform fantasy, I could indulge his.

I had it still, my uniform from senior year, a souvenir from our state
championship. Folded neatly in a box in my closet. I was shaking in
excitement as I retrieved it and took it out. The stretch polyester
trousers looked small and indeed as I stepped into them I realized how much
muscle I'd put on in the last four years of college. The material was tight
on my quads and hamstrings and ass. I couldn't really fasten the pants but
the way the crotch flaps parted looked sexy as hell as I watched in the
mirror.

The shirt was equally snug, even more so, really. The normally blouse-y
jersey stretched against my lats and upper arms.

"You like this, Dad?" I asked to my reflection as I took in the insanely
sexual sight. My prick throbbed in the uniform, the large ridge clearly
visible. The ball cap and cleats were the finishing touches. "Fuck!" I said
to myself.

Checking my watch I realized Dad would be home in about a half hour. I lay
on my bed in anticipation and when I finally hear the door open my heart
pounded in my chest. It probably didn't take Dad more than five minutes to
put down his keys, sort through the mail, and make his way down the hall,
but it felt like an eternity.

"Wow," I heard his low voice boom into my room as he looked in.

I turned over to look at him. "The uniform doesn't quite fit but I remember
you told me you had a thing for me in it."

There was a lump in his throat and he seemed speechless. But he unlaced his
uniform shoes and removed them. And he stepped deliberately toward the
bed. His strong hand touched my calf, feeling my muscle and the uniform
stretched over it. He traveled further up, over my hamstring then to my
ass. He stood at the bed's edge like that for a minute, exploring my legs
and butt, then he knelt onto the mattress, straddling me. He continued to
feel me up, all over.

Finally, he reached at my hip and roughly pulled the pants down, exposing
my cheeks. "Fuck," he growled as his hands started kneading my bare
ass. Finally he dipped his fingers into my crack and felt the Vaseline
lubing the way.

It was like his signal foreplay was over. I heard him unzip then he shifted
his weight on top of me, still in uniform, but his powerful prick exposed
and nestling into my crack.

Dad breathed deeply as he ran his hands along my upper arms and ground his
crotch against my ass. I could tell he was excited, in a strange turned-on
headspace.

"You said the first time you wanted me," I started, "I was wearing this."

His dick pressed inside me. Thankfully I'd loosened up. That thick prick
bored several inches into me. I wanted more.

"Fuck me, Dad."

Dad pinned my arms down and did just that. Thrusting his cock into me. And
again. His size made me feel fully pounded, but I lay there and relished
it. The kind of rough animalistic sex that Dad and I hadn't yet explored.

"Harder," I urged. My father was bucking wildly into me, his breaths heavy
and rhythmic, timed with his thrusts. Given Dad's size there was a slight
discomfort but mostly pleasure now. I needed to let him now he could let
loose. "Harder," I repeated.

He fucked me hard, too, those last few seconds of our coupling. His
pounding thrusts were making me come into the sheets, and I was feeling
light-headed from the ejaculation.

"Goddamnit, Jim," he at last cried as he shoved into me and unloaded, his
body rigid in orgasm. We lay coupled like that for a minute, until Dad
finally pushed himself off and out of me. "Fuck!" he whispered. "I liked
that too much."

"Yeah?" I turned over and smiled at my father. "Maybe I can keep that in
mind for a special occasion."

He gave me a look that was both appreciative and challenging. "Maybe. This
is going to have to last us a while, though."

"I know, Dad. And thanks."

Dad climbed off the bed and started undoing his uniform shirt. "I can't
believe you were able to get that uniform on." He untucked his shirt
flaps. "I'm gonna get changed now." He paused as if he wasn't ready to
leave. "Thanks for that, Jim. That was incredible."

I could feel a heavy sperm deposit in my hole and dribbling into my crack.
I pulled the uniform up and swiveled around to get up.

****

I showered up and joined Dad for dinner. The most remarkable thing was that
we had a normal evening, father and son, watching baseball on TV and
talking about unimportant things. Like we just hadn't fucked in my bedroom
in my high school baseball uniform. And as hot as the sex had been, I loved
this part too, the regular time with Dad.

I knew my life was about to change, going into the minors, and I was
excited as hell. But I was also glad for this last week at home, a break
before all that, the new phase in my life.