Date: Wed, 6 Sep 2017 02:52:54 +0000 (UTC) From: Hot for Dads Subject: Sporting Woody, Part 19 (gay/incest) This is adult FICTION. It is not intended to encourage or condone any similar activities in the real world. It is merely ENTERTAINMENT, for which Nifty could use your donations! http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html Don't read this story if you're not old enough for this stuff, if m/m stories offend you, or if "family fun" isn't your kind of fantasy. On the other hand, if that's what you're looking for, then unzip and get busy! SPORTING WOODY PART 19 "Oh, Woody. Oh. Oh. That's... Oh, fuck. Mmm. I... This feels... Oh, Woody. Yes!" The words echoed off the walls of my very own bedroom. "I knew you could do it, Stewart," I moaned as I looked down at his enraptured face and slowly continued sliding my entire cock in and out of his tight, surprisingly welcoming asshole. "Dad helped me get ready," Stewart groaned. "I'll bet he did," I replied. "I know how well that cock of his can open up a willing ass." "Oh, Woody, fuck me harder. I think I'm ready." "I hope you are," I growled as I tightened my grip on his ankles and gradually increased my thrusts. "That's it. Harder, Woody, harder," Stewart moaned as he continued taking my full cock up his ass. "Does your dad fuck you hard?" I hissed. "Oh yeah," Stewart moaned. "So hard." "And you like it." "Oh yeah," Stewart repeated. "So hard." "You like his cock better than mine?" I couldn't help asking. "I love 'em both," Stewart moaned. "Harder, Woody, harder," he begged. I bit my lip and started ramming my cock as deep and as hard into Stewart's insides as I could. He grunted with every thrust, but the look on his face was one of pure pleasure. Deep thrusts. Hard thrusts. Ramming. Pounding. Filling. Pumping. "Yes, yes, yes," Stewart grunted to punctuate every time I impaled him with my cock. "More, more, more," he begged. It hadn't taken him long to get used to my meat and I was glad that Ted had prepared him so well to take me for the first time. "Take it," I growled, fucking faster and harder. "Take it!" I repeated, slamming into Stewart so hard his head was repeatedly hitting the headboard. "Oh yeah," Stewart grunted, reaching up to plant his hands on the headboard to leverage himself. Holding himself more motionless. Taking the full force of my thrusts with no give. "Oh, Woody," he moaned. "I'm gonna cum," I finally grunted. "Yes, Woody, cum in me," Stewart moaned. "I'm gonna cum," I panted. "Do it," Stewart groaned. "Fill me with cum." "OH FUCK," I yelled, suddenly rabbit-fucking his ass for all I was worth. "CUM, WOODY!" Stewart panted under my onslaught. "CUM! CUM! CUM!" "OH, STEWART!" I whined as my body suddenly began contracting. Spasming. Thrusting. Pumping. Exploding. "I'M CUMMING!" I yelled, in case he couldn't tell. "I LOVE YOU, WOODY," Stewart moaned, arching his back and lifting his ass, forcing it even farther onto my erupting cock. "I LOVE YOU, STEWART," I panted as my body continued to contract and spasm and pulse. Pumping my jizz into Stewart's butt. As my own orgasm finally began to subside, I grabbed his cock and began pumping him. Firmly. Quickly. With determination. With a goal. "Oh, Woody," Stewart moaned. "I'm... Oh... I..." "Just relax and let it fly," I murmured. "It's gonna fly, Woody," Stewart grunted. "No, don't...!" he moaned when I pulled my spent, deflating cock out of his ass and let his legs drop to the mattress. "Don't worry, I'm not stopping," I laughed as I continued stroking his rigid, throbbing cock. "I just want a better view," I added as I held the meat pointing straight up in the air. Pointing right at my face as I licked my lips. "YES!" Stewart bellowed when I plunged two fingers on my free hand into his cum-filled ass and started finger-fucking him as fast as I was pumping his cock. "OH, WOODY!" "CUM, BUDDY!" I growled. "YES! FUCK YES!" he roared as the first load of cum shot up out of his cock and fell back down onto my pumping fist. "FUCK!" he repeated. I swooped down, but not fast enough. The second load of cum splattered on the bridge of my nose. "OH, WOODY!" he groaned when he felt my lips engulf his cock in time for the third shot to hit the back of my mouth. "EAT IT," he moaned, thrusting his cock up into my mouth as he continued spewing his jizz. "Mmmm," I moaned as I gulped his seed as fast as he shot it. "Oh, Woody," he moaned. His body began to relax as the remains of his load oozed into my mouth and I hungrily devoured them. Sucking. Licking. Swallowing. "Mmmm," he sighed as I slowly began bobbing my mouth up and down on his cock with my lips gently caressing his shaft. "That feels nice," he sighed, completely relaxing his body and running his hands through my hair. I finally let Stewart's cock slip out of my mouth, and then I crawled up on top of him. "Tastes nice, too," I murmured as I lowered my body onto his and pressed my lips to his. "Mmm," Stewart sighed as his lips parted slightly and my cum-coated tongue slid into his mouth to feed him what remained of his own salty, tangy, delicious load. When our lips eventually parted, I lifted my head and looked down at Stewart with a smile. "I definitely love you, Stewart Glover," I said softly. "I definitely love you, Woodrow Wharton," my boyfriend replied with a smile before pulling my head back down for another cum-flavored kiss as we gently ground our spent cocks into each other. Yes, my boyfriend. Stewart's mother had agreed that he could spend the spring break with his dad, Ted, but she did it without realizing that Stewart would be spending most of that time with me. In my bed. For almost the entire time, we'd talked and fucked and talked and sucked and talked and shared our dads in bed. The result of all that talking, not to mention the sex, was that we definitely knew we were right for each other. Stewart finally taking my cock up his ass was the icing on the cake, or the cream in his hole, as it were. A pounding on the front door broke through our euphoric smooching. "Tell 'em to go away," Stewart whispered into my lips. "You've got all the sex you can handle for now." "That's true," I laughed climbing off of Stewart and out of bed. "Now that I know you can take my cock, you're the whole package." "Just as long as I still get to tap that nice ass of yours occasionally," Stewart said as I slipped on a T-shirt and pulled on a pair of cargo shorts to cover the ass in question, but in the commando fashion. "Definitely," I assured him. "Be right back." ***** The knocking had started again on the front door just as I reached it. "Keep your pants on!" I yelled as I yanked the door open. "Do I have to?" Mr. Booker asked. "Dad," his son said with a slight trace of annoyance. My mouth dropped open. I couldn't speak. I just stared at my old best friend, Barry Booker, and his dad. I'd exchanged a few random texts with Barry over the months since the move, but we had definitely drifted apart. As I stood there looking at the father and son from my past, I saw flashes of my first man-on-man sexual experience, when Barry almost caught me having sex with his dad. A surge of anger ran through me when I remembered Mr. Booker joking with Barry about whether Barry would have sex with me if I wanted it. Barry didn't know I knew about the exchange, but things had been awkward between us from that point until Dad and I moved. "Well?" Barry asked. "Are you going to invite us in?" "Uh, sure," I mumbled, stepping back and holding the door open. "And do I have to keep my pants on?" Mr. Booker asked with a wink as he stepped past me. "Dad," Barry growled. "What are you doing here?" I asked after I closed the front door and followed the Bookers into the living room. "That's a nice welcome for old friends who just flew halfway across the country," Mr. Booker laughed. "Yeah, sorry. I just wasn't expecting..." "That's the point of a surprise, Woody," Mr. Booker replied. "Your dad knows," Barry assured me. "It's not like we're just barging in," he added a little defensively. "Relax, Barry," Mr. Booker said. "Um, would you like something to drink or something to eat?" "I could use some water," Barry replied. "And I could sure use something to eat," Mr. Booker grinned as I headed to the kitchen. "I thought we were all going out for dinner," Barry said flatly. "Dad should be home soon," I said as I returned with glasses of water for the Bookers. "We can go out then." "Sounds good to me," Mr. Booker replied, taking a glass of water from me. "Congratulations on the state championship," Barry said, taking his glass of water. "Thanks," I replied. "We wanted to come out for it, but I couldn't get off work," Mr. Booker said. "That's too bad." I didn't know what else to say. I was still too shocked by their surprise arrival. "But your dad suggested we make the trip and at least celebrate the victory," Mr. Booker added, still trying to keep a conversation afloat. "A surprise victory party." "Are you coming back to bed?" Stewart called before arriving in the living area and seeing the strangers. At least he'd put on his underwear before venturing out of the bedroom. "So, found someone your own age, did you?" Mr. Booker laughed. "What?" I asked. The question was just a matter of surprise. I knew he was talking about our encounter where he'd initiated me into man-on-man sex. "Dad," Barry growled. "You told him?!" My surprise quickly turned to anger. "He guessed," Mr. Booker replied. "Fine, then. Yes, Barry, I'm gay. And this is Stewart, my boyfriend." "Uh, hello," Stewart said with an awkward wave of the hand. "Hello, Stewart," Mr. Booker said with a smile. "Glad to meet you." I ignored the pleasant exchange between Stewart and Mr. Booker. Instead, I just stared at Barry, who stared back at me. "Well, are you going to say hello to Stewart? My boyfriend." Barry glanced nervously at his dad and then mumbled, "I am too." "You are too what?" I asked. "My boyfriend?" I added with a laugh. "Gay," Barry mumbled. "What?" I asked, looking back and forth between Barry and his dad. "It turns out my boy was more a chip off the old cock than he'd been willing to admit," Mr. Booker confirmed. "Back then, I didn't think you were..." Barry just let the comment hang in the air. "Oh, he definitely is," Stewart laughed, stepping forward and dropping his arm possessively around my shoulder. I found the gesture both slightly annoying and surprisingly comforting. "That's what I told Barry when he finally got up the nerve to come out to his gay dad," Mr. Booker chuckled. "Like that should take any effort." "Stop it, Dad," Barry ordered. "I told you we shouldn't have come here." Barry shoved the water glass into his dad's free hand and then rushed out of the living room. The front door slammed soon after. I looked at Stewart, who removed his arm from my shoulder and said, "Go talk to him." "Thanks," I replied, giving him a quick kiss. ***** I found Barry sitting in a rental car in the parking lot. I tapped on the window, and he rolled it down. Music blared out of the car before he reached over and turned down the volume. "What?!" he growled. "I wish you would have told me," I said softly. "Yeah, right." "Okay, then, I wish I would have told you," I replied. "I just didn't want to risk losing you as a friend." "Same here," Barry replied, still looking out through the car windshield instead of at me. "Are you happy?" he finally asked. "I'm afraid I'm very happy," I smiled. "It looked it," he replied, finally turning his face toward me. "I think I'm glad." "Thanks. How about you?" I asked. "There is someone," Barry replied, looking away from me again. "Not Toby Jenks," I said, thinking of the most unlikely choice among our old classmates. "No!" "Sam Trotter?" I laughed. "Shut up," Barry laughed back. "Your dad?" I suggested as the wildest option. Silence. I looked at Barry, who had gone stone-faced. "Shit, you're joking! Seriously?" "Fuck you," Barry grunted. "Only if Stewart says you can," I replied. "Can what?" Stewart asked, walking up behind me. "Barry and his dad are in the club," I said to Stewart, who had thrown on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. "Woody," Barry growled. "What club?" Stewart asked. "The father-and-son club," I replied casually. "Stop it, Woody," Barry ordered, swinging the car door open and getting out of the car. "Welcome to the club," Stewart said. "Best club ever." "Wait, what?" Barry asked as all the anger drained from his face and he started to grasp the situation. "We have sex with our dads too," I whispered to Barry, as if it was a big conspiracy. Well, we were in public. "Don't fuck with me," Barry replied, leaning back toward the defensive. "Does that mean we can't fuck with your dad either?" Stewart teased. Barry just stared at us for a long moment. "You're dead serious?" he finally asked. "About it all?" "Would I lie to my oldest friend?" I asked. "No wonder you were such a dick to him when I was around. Trying to throw me off the scent." "No, it was to keep him off the scent," Barry replied, kicking the ground with his toe. "It didn't start between us until after you moved. I got kind of depressed and let down my guard. Told him everything. About how I felt about you. About how I felt about him. About how every time I laid in bed listening to him fucking a trick, I wished it was me." "Are you here to steal my boyfriend?" Stewart asked bluntly. "No, no," Barry replied quickly. "I... I just miss my best friend. I never thought about sex with you." "Thanks a lot," I laughed. "Okay, once or twice," Barry corrected. "I figured it might be hot." "It is," Stewart confirmed. "And with our dads too." I looked at Stewart. He continued to surprise me with his sudden openness about our sexual activities. "What?" he asked when he noticed me looking at him. "You said he was in the club." "You want to branch out beyond the four of us?" I asked. "Well," Stewart replied, becoming a little uncertain, "his dad is hot." "Definitely," I laughed, "and he would be surprised to discover how much I've learned since my first fumbling days." "So you and he really...?" I smiled at how reticent Stewart still really was about discussing s-e-x. "Once. Well, my first, actually." "Apparently, I almost walked in on them," Barry confirmed. "I'm not sure any of us could have handled it at that point," I laughed. "Probably not," Barry agreed. "Well, if Dad and I are staying, we'd better get back inside. No telling what he's getting up to without us." "Wouldn't want that," Stewart laughed as Barry leaned back into the car to roll up the window and then stepped back to lock it. "What are we waiting for?" he asked rhetorically before heading back to the apartment. I grabbed Stewart's elbow lightly as we followed Barry. "Are you sure about this?" "It's what you want, isn't it?" he asked lightly. "Yes, I want to play with them, but it doesn't mean you have to. You don't have to," I assured him. "You never have to do anything you don't want to." "I know," he replied. "Especially if you're doing it just to please or impress me," I continued. "You know this has nothing to do with us." "And if we share, it has even less to do with us," Stewart said. "Boys who play together stay together." "I hope you never stop surprising me," I said honestly as I wrapped my arm around his waist and he draped his arm around my shoulder. "I think you have more surprises up your sleeve than I do," Stewart laughed. ***** "Looks like you've made yourself comfortable," I laughed when Stewart, Barry, and I returned to the apartment and found Mr. Booker sitting naked on the sofa. At least it looked like he was naked. He had his arms stretched out along the back and his legs spread in front. There wasn't a stitch of clothing in sight, but there was a loose throw pillow in his lap. "Your dad did say to make ourselves at home when we got here," he replied casually. "I'm not sure that's exactly what he had in mind," I laughed. "Is this how you hang out at home? I never saw it before." "There's a lot you didn't see before," Mr. Booker replied with a grin. "And in front of your own son and my boyfriend," I said with mock shock. "Since your boyfriend was the one parading around in his underwear and begging you to get back in bed with him," Mr. Booker replied, looking at Stewart, "I'm guessing I don't have anything he hasn't seen before." "But probably not as much of it," Stewart laughed, before a shocked expression crossed his face at what he'd said. Stewart, Barry, and I stood silently for what seemed like minutes but was really only a few seconds. Finally, Mr. Booker slowly smiled as he reached down and moved the throw pillow to reveal his hard cock. "Might not be as big as Woody's, but I've never had any complaints." "I'll bet not," Stewart said, a little too breathless for my liking. "Does Dad know why you're here?" I asked, trying not to give anything away too quickly. "To congratulate you on your championship," Mr. Booker answered. "And for Barry to have a relaxing spring break. That's all." "And for you to fuck me and my boyfriend while you're at it?" I asked. "Well, now that you mention it," Mr. Booker replied with a grin and a flexing of his cock. "I do tend to get extra horny when I travel." "You'll have to wait your turns," Barry said suddenly, stripping off his clothes as he crossed the room toward his dad. "Barry," Mr. Booker said nervously, grabbing the pillow and putting it back in his lap. "Relax, Dad," Barry said, dropping to his knees between Mr. Booker's thighs. "They know everything." "But we wouldn't mind seeing it proven," I said. "Yeah, I don't believe it," Stewart said. "A guy and his dad? That's impossible." "Watch and learn," Barry said, tossing the pillow aside and taking his dad's cock in hand. "Are you sure, Barry?" Mr. Booker asked. He'd obviously planned on sex with Stewart while Barry and I renewed our close friendship with sex acts of our own. He never planned on having his relationship with his own son revealed so quickly and so casually. "Time to show Woody what he missed out on by moving," Barry replied as he slowly stroked Mr. Booker's cock. "It's about the only thing I've missed out on," I laughed. If they only knew! Barry leaned forward and swallowed the head of his dad's cock. "Oh, Son," Mr. Booker moaned as his eyes rolled back in his head and he relaxed back into the sofa. "That's it, boy," he sighed as Barry began sliding his glistening lips up and down his dad's cock. Tasting. Sucking. Slurping. Swallowing. Deep. "Looks like he was telling the truth," I said to Stewart, but loud enough for Mr. Booker to hear. "He definitely likes it," Stewart observed. "Which one?" I asked. "Both," Mr. Booker moaned. "That's it, Barry. Take it nice and deep. Just the way I like it." "He's definitely done it before," Stewart said. "You'll never find a more talented mouth than my son's," Mr. Booker bragged with a groan. "I taught him well." "Are we just gonna watch?" Stewart whispered to me. I looked at him and noticed the obvious tent in his shorts. He nodded at my own crotch to indicate that he wasn't the only one with a tent. "You really okay with this?" I whispered back. "One way to find out," he replied, whipping off his T-shirt and dropping his shorts. Ready to go in no time. I watched as Stewart crossed to the sofa and sat beside Mr. Booker. He put one hand on Mr. Booker's hairy belly and rubbed it casually, making Mr. Booker sigh. "Welcome to the party, boy," Mr. Booker said, reaching down and quickly finding Stewart's rigid cock. "His name's Stewart," I said. "You like that, Stewart," Mr. Booker asked as he began slowly stroking Stewart's cock. "Oh yeah," Stewart moaned before leaning forward to suck on Mr. Booker's nipple. "Oh yeah," Mr. Booker echoed. "That feels good. Are you gonna join us, Woody?" I quickly stripped off my own T-shirt and shorts and sat on Mr. Booker's other side, across from Stewart. Without wasting time, I leaned in and started sucking eagerly on Mr. Booker's other nipple. My hand joined Stewart's as we both rubbed Mr. Booker's hairy belly and occasionally twined our own fingers together. "Never thought I'd see the day I had three hot young men working me over," Mr. Booker moaned as he wrapped his free hand around my cock and began stroking me and Stewart in unison. I stopped sucking his nipple long enough to say, "And I never thought I'd have sex with a friend's dad, but I've done that a few times now." I flicked my tongue across the rigid nipple before sucking on it again. "Oh yeah?" Mr. Booker moaned. Stewart looked up and grinned at Mr. Booker. "Oh yeah," he confirmed. "Your dad?" Mr. Booker asked with a bit of surprise. "And his own," Stewart volunteered, spilling all the family beans at once. "Damn, Woody, I had no idea," Mr. Booker said with an enthusiastic leer. I lifted my mouth from Mr. Booker's nipple and stretched up to lick his neck and nibble on his earlobe. "I'm not the innocent virgin you once new," I whispered. "That's pretty clear," he moaned, twisting his neck around until his lips met mine in a passionate, eager kiss. "No virgins here at all," Stewart whispered as he moved to nibble on Mr. Booker's other earlobe. "Glad to hear it," Mr. Booker mumbled as he turned his head to exchange his first deep kiss with Stewart. My tongue eagerly traced around his ear and even darted inside for a quick lick. "Fuck, Woody," he moaned. "How about fucking me instead, Dad?" Barry asked, standing up. "You got any lube, Woody?" Mr. Booker asked. "In the other room, but if Barry doesn't mind and Stewart is willing, Stewart's ass is already lubed and ready to go." I made that statement loud enough for all parties to hear, and then I whispered in Mr. Booker's ear, "And already full of my cum." "Oh yeah," Mr. Booker moaned, tightening his grip on my cock. "That sounds good." "Stewart?" I asked, leaving it up to him. "Barry?" Stewart asked, leaving up to him. "Be my guest," Barry laughed, stepping back from between his dad's thighs. "And mine," Mr. Booker moaned as I licked my way back down to his nipple. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Stewart swing his leg over Mr. Booker's thighs and straddle his spit-slicked cock. "Oh yeah," Stewart moaned. "He's definitely ready to go, Dad," Barry confirmed, and I realized why Stewart had moaned. Barry had to have been fingering him to make sure he was going to be able to take Mr. Booker's cock. "Then what are we waiting for?" Mr. Booker moaned as I bit firmly on his nipple. "Oh, Woody," he groaned. "Oh, Mr. Booker," I groaned as he squeezed my cock like his hand was a vice grip. "I want this inside me before this visit is over," he whispered to me. "Oh, it will be," I assured him. "You ready, Stewart," Barry asked. "You just sit down, and I'll guide him in." "Oh yeah," Mr. Booker moaned as he relaxed and waited. Stewart looked at me and winked as he began to lower himself onto Mr. Booker's cock. When a grin spread across his face, I knew I'd prepared him enough to accept Mr. Booker's cock without any trouble. "Damn, Dad," Barry whistled, "you slipped right in!" "Preparation is everything," Mr. Booker moaned as Stewart slid farther and farther down the shaft. "That's it, Son, play with my balls. You know how much I like that, boy." Stewart's cock finally came to rest on the back of my hand on Mr. Booker's belly. I quickly grabbed it and gave it a squeeze. "Oh, Woody," he moaned. "It's not as big as yours, but it sure feels good," he sighed. "Glad to hear it," Mr. Booker chuckled, "but don't just sit there." "I'm not," Stewart assured him. I looked up and saw Barry leaning against Stewart's back with one hand suddenly appearing around him to help me stroke Stewart's cock. "Oh yeah," Stewart groaned as we pulled his cock and he started to ride Mr. Booker's dick. From the tilt of Barry's shoulders, it looked like he was still playing with Mr. Booker's balls as well. I continued eagerly sucking on Mr. Booker's nipple. Trying to get it harder. Firmer. Pointier. I could see the free one responding just the same, as if I was working it too. "Mmm, that feels good," Mr. Booker moaned, "but I wanna see you suck your boyfriend's dick while I fuck him." He released my cock and quickly reached around to put his hand on the top of my head and push me down, not that he met much resistance. "Oh, Woody," Stewart groaned when my mouth engulfed his cock. "This is so... Oh yeah..." I continued working Stewart's cock as he tried to get his body under control. He was obviously having a problem deciding whether he was more interested in Barry's tongue licking his neck, my mouth sucking his cock, or Mr. Booker's cock fucking his ass. "Mmm," I moaned as Stewart's cock slid smoothly in and out of my throat. I leaned forward to bury my nose in his bush and let his rock-hard cock slide as far down my throat as it could go. "Oh, Woody," Stewart groaned when I began using my swallowing muscles to massage his cock. "Keep riding, boy," Mr. Booker moaned. "Stewart," he corrected himself. "Have you ever taken two?" Barry asked. "Two what?" Stewart groaned. "Cocks," Barry clarified. "No!" Stewart yelled and froze. I pulled off of his cock and sat up quickly. "Don't push it, Barry," I warned. "I was just thinking if he could take that thing of yours, he shouldn't have much problem taking Dad and me together." "Don't stop, Stewart," Mr. Booker moaned. "Sorry," Stewart mumbled as he resumed riding the cock in his ass. He did finally look at me, though, and asked, "Do you think I could do it?" "Are you serious?" I asked. "I think so," Stewart moaned. "You stop if he says to stop," I said, glaring at Barry. "Absolutely," Barry agreed, with an eager look on his face. "You're sure," I asked Stewart. "Yeah, go for it, Barry," Stewart moaned. "Wait until I get some lube for you," I ordered Barry as I hurried to my bedroom. Stewart was definitely surprising me. I only wished I was one of the guys getting to double-fuck him, but I knew he couldn't take my cock and another one. Not yet, anyway, I laughed to myself. "About time," Barry complained when I returned with the lube and handed it to him. "Just use a lot," I told him. "A LOT!" "I will," Barry said eagerly as he squirted his palm full of lube and started coating his dick while Stewart continued slowly riding Mr. Booker's cock. "Stop worrying about him and get back up here, Woody," Mr. Booker ordered. "After I know Stewart's okay," I told him. "Then get busy, Barry," Mr. Booker moaned as Barry finished lubing up. "Enough?" Barry asked, showing me his glistening cock. "It better be," I warned him. "You feed it in," Barry suggested. I hesitated, but I couldn't resist. I reached out and stroked Barry's cock slowly. "Oh yeah," he sighed. "We should have done this back home." "You missed your chance," I laughed. "Making up for it now, though," he countered. "Step up," I ordered, pulling Barry forward by his slick cock. "You lean forward, Stewart." Stewart did as I said and relaxed against Mr. Booker's chest while Mr. Booker continued shallow pulses of his cock into Stewart's butt. I could see his cock sliding in and out of Stewart's hole as Barry's cock approached. "That's it, Son," Mr. Booker moaned when he felt the head of Barry's cock touch his own shaft. "Make some room in there, Dad," Barry laughed. "You've got all the room you're getting," Mr. Booker laughed back. "Hold still, Mr. Booker," I ordered. "Let Barry get in." "Whatever you say, Woody," Mr. Booker replied, bringing his cock to a stop about halfway in Stewart and halfway out. Barry moved closer, and I guided the tip of his cock along the shaft of his dad's cock until it reached the point where his dad's cock disappeared into Stewart's butt. "Relax, Stewart," I ordered, and Mr. Booker's hands appeared to gently massage Stewart's ass, spreading the cheeks apart as he massaged. When I thought I saw traces of Stewart's hole relaxing, I applied pressure to Barry's cock, pushing the head firmly against his dad's shaft, causing both of the Bookers to moan. As Barry pushed forward, I pressed his cock even more firmly against his dad's shaft. My fingers also tried to work the head into Stewart's hole. Stewart grunted when I finally managed to push a lot of the head of Barry's cock into his ass. "Relax," I hissed. "Relax," I repeated as Barry continued to push forward and I continued trying to force the rest of the head into Stewart. "FUCK!" Stewart yelled when the entire head of Barry's cock finally popped inside and Stewart's ass clamped down as much as possible around the two shafts. "Are you okay?" I asked. "I think so," Stewart panted. "It does take two of them to beat you," he laughed. As his body shook and relaxed with the laughter, more of Barry's cock slid into him. "That feels good, Son," Mr. Booker moaned. "Sure does, Dad," Barry groaned as he continued pushing his cock into Stewart. "If you want to stop, just say so," I said to Stewart. "I'm good," he assured me. "Better than good. You should try this sometime. Or have you already?" he laughed, and the rest of Barry's cock disappeared. "He's taken us both, Dad!" Barry called out. "Never felt anything like it, Son," he replied. "Not recently, anyway. You fuck him, and I'll just enjoy your cock rubbing against mine." "You sure?" Barry asked. "I'll tell you if I change my mind," Mr. Booker moaned. "Okay, Dad," Barry said, and I watched him start to fuck my boyfriend's ass. Slowly pulling out and then pushing back in just as slowly. Again and again and again. Smooth. Gliding. Filling. I moved around to see Stewart's face and was rewarded with a look of ecstasy. I leaned close to his ear and whispered just for him, "I love you." He opened his eyes and smiled at me before they rolled back into his head again. "This feels too good, Dad," Barry moaned. "I'm not sure I can last." "That's it, Son, fuck your cock against mine and cover it with cum," Mr. Booker moaned. "Oh, Dad," Barry moaned, fucking harder and faster. I saw a look of discomfort flicker across Stewart's face. "I love you," I whispered again in his ear. "I'm so proud of you." "Oh, Woody, I love you," he moaned before I planted my lips on his to keep our sentiments between just us. "I'M GONNA CUM, DAD!" Barry suddenly yelled. "I'M GONNA CUM!" "DO IT, BARRY!" Mr. Booker yelled back. "SHOOT YOUR LOAD, SON!" "ARE YOU GONNA CUM?" Barry panted. "TOGETHER?" "HOLD ON, SON!" he called as he finally began fucking along with Barry. Stewart groaned in my mouth, and I pulled back to say, "Hold on Stewart, you can do it. Relax." "OH GOD, THAT FEELS TOO GOOD, DAD, YOU FUCKING YOUR COCK AGAINST MINE. I'M GONNA CUM! I'M GONNA CUM!" "ME TOO, BARRY. OH FUCK, SON!" "OH DAD!" Barry bellowed with a thrust that drove Stewart forward. "I'M CUMMING!" Barry yelled as he unleashed his jizz in my boyfriend. "SHOOT THAT CUM ON MY COCK!" Mr. Booker roared with a thrust that drove Stewart even farther forward. "FUCK!" he grunted as his own body started pumping juice into Stewart along with his son. "OH, OH, OH," Barry panted with every thrust that pumped more and more cum into Stewart's ass. "FUCK YEAH!" Mr. Booker moaned as his body relaxed but he continued sliding his cock in and out against his son's throbbing meat. "Oh shit," Stewart groaned. "You okay?" I asked nervously. "You've gotta try this," Stewart laughed. "SHIT!" he yelled suddenly as he threw himself back against Barry. His cock came into view only moments before it started shooting streak after streak after streak of cum all over Mr. Booker's chest and belly. "Fuck yeah," Mr. Booker growled. "Shit," Barry grunted. "Oh, Woody," Stewart moaned as his cock continued to throb and cum continued to shoot out of it. Without a word, I leaned down and began gently sucking on his cock to make sure it was fully drained. Stewart sighed with pleasure. When I had all the cum I could suck from the source, I began licking Mr. Booker's hairy, cum-covered body. "I sure wouldn't mistake you for the inexperienced boy who shot his load the moment I first touched his cock," Mr. Booker laughed. "Practice makes perfect," I said, lifting my face to smile at him and lick the cum off of my lips. "What the...?!" My dad's voice wiped the smile from my face momentarily as I turned my head to see him standing across the room. I finally shrugged and smiled and said, "Mr. Booker said you said to make himself at home. I was just helping out." "So I see?" "Clint, I... I didn't know this was gonna happen," Mr. Booker said sheepishly. "Nothing Woody does surprises me these days, Aaron," Dad replied. After a moment, he added, "I'm just sorry you didn't wait until I was here to help welcome you too." "Well, we'll be here for a few days," Barry replied, "so I'm sure you'll be able to catch up, Mr. Wharton." "Oh fuck," Stewart groaned when Barry stepped back and pulled his cock out of Stewart's ass. Stewart panted for a few seconds while all eyes were on him. He then lifted himself off of Mr. Booker's cock as well. "Oh, Woody," he groaned as he swung his leg over Mr. Booker and collapsed on top of me. "Why didn't you tell me it was going to be this kind of victory party?" Bear asked with a laugh. Stewart and I looked up to see Bear standing behind my dad. Behind Bear stood his dad and grandpa. "What kind of a party is that?" my own grandpa called out as he stepped into view behind the Dieter family. "Oh," he added flatly when he saw Stewart, me, and the Bookers collapsed naked on the sofa. "It's a good thing you didn't bring Grandma," I laughed. "Go lock that door, Bear," Coach ordered. "Okay, Dad," Bear replied as he headed of to do as he was told. "Now," Coach continued as he started unbuttoning his shirt, "let's get this party officially started. "I'm with you, Son," Old Coach said, starting by undoing his jeans before his shirt. "You'll have to go on without us," I said, standing up and helping Stewart to his feet. He leaned unsteadily on me as we headed toward my bedroom. "I'm Peter Dieter," I heard Coach say. "I like just about anything you can probably think of." "I'm Aaron Booker, this is my son, Barry, and that sounds like a challenge." ***** I could hear the sounds of man sex filling the apartment while I was curled up with Stewart in my bed. He'd fallen asleep almost as soon as he hit the mattress. I figured it was a combination of exhaustion and his body going into some sort of shutdown after the shock of getting double-fucked. The only reason I didn't worry about him too much was that as he slipped off to dreamland, he whispered, "You'll really like it when Dad and I do that you." "I'm sure I will," I replied spooning up against him and holding him tight as I drifted off to sleep as well. ***** I don't know how long I slept, but when I finally did wake up, I could still hear signs of grunt-and-groan sex. Being careful not to disturb Stewart, I got out of bed and headed out to investigate. "Hey, Ted, glad you could make it," I said at the door to the master bedroom when I saw him and my dad spit-roasting Barry. Ted was feeding him cock while Dad was kneeling behind him and fucking his ass. "Just getting acquainted with your friend," Ted replied. "Having fun, Dad?" I asked. "You don't know how much I wanted to do this before we moved," Dad grunted as he pulled Barry's ass back onto his thrusting cock. "I can guess," I laughed. "Looks like he's enjoying it too." "MMMPH!" Barry yelled around Ted's pumping cock. There was no doubt about what he meant when he raised his hand and gave me a thumbs-up. I gave my stiffening cock a casual stroke and moved on. When I got to the living room, I discovered Gramps and Old Coach sitting on the sofa. They were both stroking their cocks as they watched Mr. Booker and Bear in a 69 suckfest. Mr. Booker was on top, and Coach was fucking his ass. "Well, if it isn't Sleeping Buttboy," Coach grunted as he plunged his dick into Mr. Booker. "I hear you've found a very talented boyfriend." "Seems to be," I agreed. "You gonna let me give him a tryout?" he chuckled. "If he wants to," I replied. "You gotta try this man's ass," Coach grunted, slamming into Mr. Booker even harder. Pounding him good. So good that Mr. Booker was moaning with his mouth full of Bear's cock. "He's the one who owes my ass a fuck," I informed Coach. "We got interrupted before he could take my cherry." "Well, that's long gone," Coach laughed. "Sure is," I agreed, sitting on the sofa between Gramps and Old Coach. "You two worn out already?" I asked. "Just taking a break," Old Coach replied. "Waiting for the second string to wake up and haul their fresh asses out of bed." "You need some help with that?" Gramps asked when he saw my cock growing as I watched Coach, Mr. Booker, and Bear sucking and fucking in the middle of my living room. "I'm good," I replied. "Not quite awake yet." "Can you think of a better way to wake up?" Gramps asked. "Not usually," I agreed, and then we watched the show for a few more minutes. "You know what I'd really like, Gramps?" "What?" he asked, reaching out and casually stroking my hard shaft. "I wanna see you fuck Mr. Dieter," I finally said. "You know I don't fuck," Gramps replied. "Besides, my boy's a little busy at the moment," Old Coach laughed. "I don't mean him, I mean you," I replied, looking at Old Coach. "Whoa, I don't get fucked," Old Coach said, shaking his head. "That's not how I remember it, pussy boy," Gramps laughed. "Used to be my nickname for him," Gramps whispered to me. "And just what do you remember, limp dick?" Old Coach asked. "Used to be my nickname for him," Old Coach whispered to me. "Wasn't true then and ain't true now, but you were always a big pussy boy. Couldn't get enough of my cock up your ass." "Is that so?" Old Coach replied. "You need a reminder?" Gramps laughed. "Maybe I do, if you can get it up." "Is this up enough for you?" Gramps asked, waving his hard cock. "Might do, if you still fucked," Old Coach replied before looking back at the show in front of us. "Please, Gramps," I whispered to him. "For me? I really want to see it. And it's not like you haven't done it before. Kind of grandfathered him in," I laughed. "The one loophole. You wouldn't be doing anything you haven't done before." "The kid's right," Old Coach grumbled without looking at us. "FUCK!" Coach roared as he slammed his dick into Mr. Booker in great, sweeping thrusts. "TAKE IT FUCKER! OH YEAH!" His body quivered as he unleashed his load in his new conquest. Mr. Booker screamed a muffled scream around Bear's cock, and I knew he was feeding Bear a load while Coach was breeding him. Cum oozed out of Bear's mouth as he tried to swallow the load being pumped into him from above. With a gagging, coughing scream of his own, Bear started thrusting his hips up off of the floor. Mr. Booker pulled his mouth off of Bear's cock, which made Bear moan with disappointment, but instead, Mr. Booker grabbed Bear's spit-slick shaft and began pumping it rapidly. After only a few strokes, Bear's cock erupted, sending globs of white juice into the air to fall back onto Mr. Booker's fist. Another shot. Another load. After enjoying the view long enough, Mr. Booker swallowed Bear's cock again and continued sucking the rest of the jizz out of him. When the three performers finally rolled apart and collapsed onto the floor, I looked at Gramps, who seemed to be thinking seriously without really paying any attention to what had just happened. "Please, Gramps," I whispered, reaching out to gently run my fingers up and down his cock. "Oh, Woody," Gramps groaned. "I'm game if you are," Old Coach muttered. I looked at him, but he was still looking at the huffing and puffing pile of flesh in front of us. I looked back at Gramps with the most sad, pathetic, begging eyes I could imagine. "You sure about that loophole?" Gramps muttered. "Definitely," I hissed. "It's not like you're going out and fucking someone new. It's completely different. You've done it before. It's already on the books." "Who's next?" Barry asked, striding into the room with my dad and Ted following him. "I've got dibs on that ass," Coach grunted. "Just give me a few minutes to recover from fucking your dad, and I'll be good to go." "Sounds good to me," Barry replied. "Your boy is a keeper," Ted laughed. "Tell me about it," Mr. Booker replied, looking up at the cocks on the men standing around. "Follow me," Gramps ordered as he stood up and headed toward the bedrooms. "Where are you going?" Dad asked as Gramps passed him. "None of your fucking business," Old Coach growled. "Come on, Woody." I did as ordered, following Gramps and Old Coach and giving Dad an innocent shrug. When we got to the master bedroom, Gramps locked the door and then looked at me and Old Coach. "Just this once, Hans. And just because Woody asked. And just because they won the championship." "Don't do me any favors," Hans laughed. Gramps glared at Hans for a moment. "This isn't easy for me," he finally growled. "Then don't do it," Hans replied. "You wanna keep your sacred cock to yourself? Fine. I'm not begging for it again." "What does that mean?" I couldn't help asking. "None of your business, kid," Hans replied. "I thought you were over all this old shit when you let me fuck you." "That was different," Gramps maintained. "Oh, please!" Hans growled. "It's always been the same. Do whatever makes you feel good and righteous, no matter how fucked up it makes me feel." "You know we couldn't..." Gramps gave Hans a helpless look as if I wasn't there. Maybe I wasn't. Maybe it was just a continuation of a conversation from long before I'd even been born. "You couldn't," Hans corrected him firmly. "Has your life been so terrible without me in it?" Gramps asked. "I never said that, Walt, but it's not what I wanted. I wanted..." "More than I could give." "Still do, apparently. Sorry, Woody," Hans said as he started to unlock the door. "Don't go, Hans. Not again." "It isn't 'again,'" Hans said, turning around. "You were the one who walked out the last time." "I'm here now." "Almost forty years too late," Hans grumbled, "and only because your grandson doesn't know what a hornets nest he's stirring up." Hans turned again to the door. "I never stopped loving you," Gramps suddenly blurted out. Hans froze with his back to us. "Is this what you wanted, Woody?" he finally asked. I'd always been kind of scared of Old Coach, but I suddenly felt so sorry for him. It's like his tough act was just that. An act. Forty years of an act so no one knew anything about what he had done or how he really felt. "I..." I honestly didn't know what to say. I was sorry that I'd started it all. "I just want everyone to be as happy as I am right now," I finally said. "Well, not right now, obviously, but you know, with Stewart. I know you love Grandma, Gramps, but I've also seen something between you two. I just want you to be happy. Both of you. As much as you can be." Hans finally turned around and looked at me. "How do you want us to do it?" "However you used to like doing it," I muttered. Hans walked up to Gramps and took his face in his hands. "This is how I used to like doing it," he said softly as he pulled my grandpa's face to his for a gentle kiss. I saw Grandpa's body stiffen slightly at first but then relax as Hans pulled him closer. Their bodies melted together as they wrapped their arms around each other. Suddenly, the animosity and resentments started to melt away. Once again, it was the same loving relationship that I'd glimpsed when I caught Hans fucking Gramps. I didn't know what all had gone on between them in the past, but I knew it was big. I watched as Hans slowly backed Grandpa toward the bed while they continued to kiss. I saw them deftly maneuver themselves into the bed while they still continued to kiss. They explored each other with their hands as they rolled casually in the sheets. Gramps was on top. Then Hans. Then Gramps gain. Kissing. Murmuring. Remembering. Rekindling. It was not what I'd expected. It was more. I was overwhelmed. I wanted to run, but I didn't. Watching them made me happy and sad at the same time. Hans reached out and grabbed lube from the nightstand. He squirted some in his hand and then sat up to straddle Grandpa's thighs. "I recall needing quite a bit of this," he laughed as he began to finger his ass. "A smooth ride is the best ride," Grandpa grinned, as if it was an old joke between them. He took the lube from Hans and applied a good amount to his own shaft. "Then lets make this extra smooth, Walt," Hans said, reaching behind him to grab Grandpa's cock and hold it firmly in place as he lowered himself onto it. I watched as Hans strained to let my grandpa's cock in. "Relax, pussy boy," Gramps laughed huskily. "That's it," he added softly when the ass suddenly opened up and let his dick in. "Oh, Hans," he sighed as the ass slid down his shaft. "I'm sorry," he moaned. Not really a moan, more of whimper. "It's okay, Walt. It's okay," Hans whispered as he leaned forward to kiss Gramps again. "It's okay, my love. It's okay." My heart stopped. At least it felt like it did. As quietly as I could, I unlocked the door, slipped out of the room, and closed the door behind me. I leaned against the door to protect Grandpa and Hans from intruders. I listened to the muffled sounds of passion as they made love behind that closed door. Real love for the first time in almost forty yearsI didn't have to be in the room with them. I could picture them in my imagination. I could see them, not just having sex but making love. The door to my bedroom opened, and Stewart emerged, rubbing his eyes. When he saw me, he walked over to me and kissed me. "Why did you let me sleep so long?" "I thought your butt could use the rest," I replied, giving him another quick peck. "It does hurt a bit," he admitted, reaching back to rub his ass. "I'm not surprised." "Who's in there?" "My grandpa and his old boyfriend. Back from when they were our age." "Really? Cool." "I'M GONNA CUM!" Gramps suddenly bellowed on the other side of the door. "DO IT, LIMP DICK!" Hans yelled back. "RIDE ME, PUSSY BOY!" Gramps replied. "JUST SHOOT ALREADY," Hans laughed. "FUCK!" "FUCK YEAH!" And then silence. Stewart grinned at me and said, "I hope we're still having that much fun when we're their age." "Come on, there are some other guys who want to meet you," I said, taking Stewart's hand. "But you don't--" "--have to do anything I don't want to," Stewart completed my sentence. "I think that group of possibilities is getting smaller all the time." "Damn, I love you," I smiled. "Well, god damn, I love you," he smiled back. ***** When Stewart and I walked into the living room, Dad, Ted, and Mr. Booker were sitting on the sofa and casually stroking their cocks as they watched Coach giving Barry's ass a good doggy-style pounding. "That's it, Son," Mr. Booker cheered. "Show him how talented that ass is." "It definitely is," Dad agreed. "I can't wait to try it," Ted laughed. "Beers all around," Bear called as he emerged from the kitchen with a tray full of beer cans. "Pop one for me, Son," Coach grunted without missing a fucking beat. "Already done," Bear replied, handing an open can to Coach and distributing the others around. Coach continued fucking Barry while guzzling the beer. It was impressive, as if his cock was on automatic pilot. Bear stopped beside me and Stewart but took the last beer on the tray for himself. "You'll have to get your own. I didn't know you were back among the living." "I'm good," Stewart and I replied in unison and then smiled at each other. "Suit yourselves," Bear grumbled as he walked away and threw himself into a chair to drink his beer and watch the fucking. "Nice show, Coach," I finally said, "but I thought this party was for me and Bear." "Gotta entertain ourselves when you keep disappearing," Coach grunted. He put the empty can in the middle of Barry's lower back and gripped his hips with both hands again. The can wobbled as Coach pulled Barry back forcefully onto his fuck pole but still stayed in place. "Oh yeah," Barry moaned. "Well, I'm here now, and I say it's time to celebrate what brought us all together." "What do you think I'm doing?" Coach grunted. "Not just fucking. Father-son fucking," I replied. "Why don't we all pair off as nature intended? Come on, Bear," I added, moving to get on my hands and knees beside Barry. "You up for it, Son?" Ted asked Stewart. "I'll give it a try, but be gentle," Stewart replied as he knelt beside me and gave me a quick kiss. "Good enough for me," Ted said, moving into position behind Stewart. "Come on men." "Okay," Coach growled, giving Barry's ass a hard slap and grabbing the empty beer can to toss in the general direction of the kitchen. "We'll finish this later, kid, but now it looks like you have to make way for my boy." Barry let out a soft, disappointed moan as Coach moved back and pulled his cock out. "None of this straight-line shit, though. Circle it up, boys. I wanna make sure these guys see how a real man fucks his boy." Bear kind of scowled as he took his position in front of Coach after it had been vacated by Barry. The rest of us sons moved around, forming a square instead of a circle, but the idea was the same. I was across from Bear, who just looked at me with a blank face. Stewart and Barry were across from each other and smiling. "Well, what are you waiting for, men?!" Coach growled as he slapped his cock against Bear's ass. "I'm not waiting all day for you lazy bums." Bear grunted as Coach proved true to his word and became the first to penetrate his son. "You sure, Son?" Ted asked, gently rubbing Stewart's butt cheeks. "Yeah, Dad," Stewart replied. "Just take it slow and let me get used to it." "Will do," Ted agreed, right before he became the second dad to slip his cock into his son's butthole. "Judging from the show he was just putting on," Mr. Booker bragged, "my boy doesn't need it slow." "Go for it, Dad," Barry laughed. "Fuck yeah," Mr. Booker laughed as he impaled Barry with one quick thrust. "Oh yeah," Barry moaned. "Is your grandpa okay?" my dad asked me as he casually ran the tip of his cock up and down my crack. "Yeah, no problem," I assured him. "Come on, Dad, we're falling behind." "Okay, Son," Dad replied as he directed the head of his cock to my asshole and easily slipped inside. "To fathers and sons!" Coach cheered. "Fathers and sons!" the rest of us echoed, although I noticed that Bear just mumbled it as he balanced on one hand to take a drink from his beer. And then the championship celebration really began. It was hot looking around and seeing the other dads fucking my friends, their sons. Feeling my own dad's cock working it's magic in my ass. Filling me to capacity. Digging his fingers into my flesh. Giving me his usual slow but expert fuck. Coach was just pounding Bear's ass. Hard and fast. Slapping his butt hard at regular intervals. "Tighten up, boy," he growled at one point. "That's better," he said after Bear bent his arms to let his upper body rest on his elbows and lowered his forehead to the back of his hands. Ted was giving Stewart a slow, gentle screw. Caressing his son's lower back. When my eyes traveled from Ted's body and along Stewart's body, I discovered that Stewart was staring at me and smiling. "That feels good, Dad," he said, winking at me. "Sure does, Son," Ted replied. "Harder, Dad!" Barry ordered, and my attention turned to him. "Don't be in such a rush, Son," Mr. Booker replied casually, giving Barry's ass a playful warning slap. "Just enjoy the ride. I know I am." I continued looking from dad to dad, from dad to son, and from son to son. Back and forth and up and down. It was like each father and son had a unique style for how they fucked. At times, the dads were watching their own cocks pumping in and out, at other times, they were looking at the other men fucking, and at still other times, they were watching the faces of us sons enjoying the fuck. "Damn, look at the show," Gramps said when he and Old Coach finally joined us in the living room. "Looks like a perverted form of square dancing," Old Coach laughed. The two older men sat down on the sofa and each picked up the nearest beer can, not caring who else had drunk out of it. We'd been exchanging cum, after all, so a little spit didn't seem like such a big deal. "First one in, first one out," Coach finally said, pulling his cock out and pumping it rapidly. "Flip over, Bear." Bear silently did as instructed, and Coach moved forward to straddle Bear's chest. Bear tried to lift his head to suck his dad's cock, but Coach said, "Just relax and enjoy the shower, Son. HERE IT CUMS!" "That's my boy," Old Coach mumbled to Gramps. Dad's fucking rhythm skipped a beat as we all watched Coach's cock explode and start covering Bear's face and chest in thick, white, glistening, creamy cum. "That's it, boy. Enjoy your daddy cum shower," Coach growled as he continued coating Bear. "Oh yeah," he moaned as he squeezed his cock from base to tip and the final load of cum oozed out. "Now you can eat it, Son," he said casually as he scooted closer and slipped his spent cock into Bear's mouth. After a few seconds, he pulled out and began using his cock to round up the rest of his cum and push it across Bear's face and into his mouth. "OH, DAMN!" Mr. Booker roared. I looked over at him and saw that he was staring at Bear's cum-covered face as his own face contorted into a fast-changing range of expressions before his mouth finally just dropped open and his eyes rolled back into his head as he slammed his cock deep and hard into Barry's ass. "FUCK YEAH, DAD," Barry yelled, thrusting his ass back hard into his dad's crotch. "FILL MY ASS." "I AM, SON," Mr. Booker grunted. "I AM." "Oh, Woody," Dad sighed soon after. "Oh yeah," he moaned softly as he pulled me back gently onto his cock. I could feel it pulsing inside me, depositing his load. "Oh yeah," he repeated as he began to rub my lower back, and I knew he was finished. He didn't make a big show of it, but it sure felt good for us both as my insides were coated with Dad's cum. "Lay down, Dad," I said softly. In unison, we moved forward and settled onto the floor. I turned my head and rested my cheek on my hands so I could watch Stewart. Dad managed to keep his cock inside me as he lowered his weight onto my back but kept his elbows under him to take some of the stress. I sighed when he gently began kissing the back of my neck. "Looks like you lose the race, Dad" Stewart laughed. "I'm just enjoying spending time with you, Son," Ted assured him. "Isn't that good enough for you?" "Oh yeah," Stewart sighed. "Good," Ted replied and maintained his slow, steady pace. "Let's go get cleaned up for the next round, Bear," Coach suggested. "Okay," Bear agreed. "Mind if we join you?" Mr. Booker asked. "The more the merrier," Coach assured him. "And when you're ready to go again, you can finish what you started with me," Barry suggested to Coach. "Damn, boy," Coach laughed, draping his arm around Barry's shoulder and following Bear and Mr. Booker toward the bedrooms and the bathrooms. "I like your style." "Thank you, sir," Barry replied. "Call me Coach. All the boys do." "All of them?" Barry asked with a grin. "All the talented ones," Coach replied as they disappeared. Dad, Gramps, Old Coach, and I just continued to watch Ted slowly and lovingly fuck his own son's ass, my boyfriend's ass. ***** Stewart, Barry, and I ended up having a lot of fun together during that spring break. Among other things, we served as "caddies" at a couple of the "golf games" organized by Principal Owens and Mr. Moore. The two men definitely enjoyed meeting my out-of-town friends and were glad when they both returned for summer visits as well. I never learned how Principal Owens and Mr. Moore really were on the greens, but I definitely liked the way they sank a hole in one. Whether Bear ever "caddied" for them, I never knew. I never asked, and he didn't tell. What happens on the "golf course" stays on the "golf course." Actually, Bear and I started drifting apart after that spring break. With basketball season over, we didn't see much of each other at school. We hooked up occasionally when either of us needed a quick non-family fuck, but he started spending more and more free time with Sandy, the girl he once said gave the best blowjobs in school. Again, I didn't ask and Bear didn't tell, until Sandy got pregnant and they had a summer wedding. I didn't know the reason for the quick marriage until Bear had a couple too many drinks at the reception. That's when he spilled the beans. "The funny thing," he concluded, "is that I'm not even sure it's mine. I guess we'll see what pops out." I shook my head and replied, "You should have stuck to fucking me. At least I couldn't get pregnant." "No, you just fell in love with someone else," he muttered before walking away to socialize with the other guests. That comment stopped me dead in my tracks. I'd once thought I could fall in love with Bear, but he'd made it clear at the start that it was all just fun and games to him. We never talked about the two of us again after the wedding, and we never had sex again either. It seemed as if he'd chosen the same path that our grandfathers had. That wild spring break was a watershed moment for our grandfathers as well. I never had sex with either of them after that, and I never caught Gramps back in the park restroom. I hoped it was because they were hooking up in private. Again, I didn't ask, and Gramps didn't tell. I just tried not to worry that I'd pushed them too far without knowing what I was doing. When my grandmother passed away a couple years later, Old Coach moved in with Gramps after a reasonable mourning period. Two old friends living together instead of relying on their children. What could be more natural? I was happy for them. I was also happy for Dad when he took me out for dinner right before my high school graduation and told me sheepishly that something seemed to be developing between him and Mr. Booker. "Long distance for now," he admitted. "We'll see how it goes." Apparently, it went well, because after I went away to college, Dad moved back to live with Mr. Booker in our old neighborhood. When I visited, it made sex with Barry even hotter. He wasn't just my oldest best friend; he was my "brother." To be honest, I'd hoped that Dad and Ted would hook up. Well, they did hook up, but it was just sex. Ted eventually got divorced but moved on to another wife pretty quickly. "He doesn't like to be alone," Stewart confided to me at that point. Actually, after that fateful spring break, I probably had sex with Ted more than anyone else during the remainder of my senior year. I couldn't help wondering if it was because it made him feel closer to Stewart, but I didn't dwell on it. I just enjoyed having sex with him. Actually, it made me feel closer to Stewart too, so it was a win-win arrangement. Stewart. My Stewart. As the other sex partners began to drop away or become less frequent, Stewart was the one who remained. He convinced his mother to let him live with Ted for the summer before college, and we spent almost the whole time together. There were plenty of times when we had sex with our dads during that summer too, but the group encounters gradually became rarer and rarer, which only served to make it all the more special when we did manage to have some four-way family fun. Stewart and I have never stopped playing with other guys, some family and a lot not, but we both know that when it comes down to it, we are the ones who matter most to each other, in and out of bed. And yes, we are still together. THE END ------------------- I hope you enjoyed this bit of fun. I enjoyed writing Woody's adventures and am sorry to see him go, but it was time. Thanks again to all the guys who provided feedback and other things to encourage me to continue this series for as long as I did. Remember, always play SAFE in the real world; you never know where that thing has been! You can check out my other stories at www.nifty.org/nifty/authors.html#hotfordads