Date: Thu, 5 May 2011 19:48:54 -0700 (PDT)
From: Bruno Boyd <bruno.boyd@yahoo.com>
Subject: What Brandon Needs- Part 2

What Brandon Needs

Part Two

Brandon froze. He couldn't believe what was happening to him. His dad had
found him just an hour before curled up on the couch in tears. Now he was
sitting in Mike's lap with a hardon, the taste of his dad's sweat fresh in
his mouth after having sucked on his pecs for the last half hour.

With his right hand, Mike reached out and stroked his son's hair.

"It's OK, boy," he said.

Mike knew his son had been getting teased at school for years. It was bound
to happen, he thought, considering how shy and skinny Brandon was. And if
the kid was gay that sure as hell wasn't gonna help. Many nights like
tonight Mike had come home to find Brandon sulking under the covers or
hiding out alone in his room. He'd tried to get his son to talk to him and
tell him who was messing with him, anything. But Brandon was too
embarrassed and ashamed to tell his dad he was being bullied, and he always
withdrew. So like most dads in that situation, Mike didn't have a clue what
to do.

But tonight something had changed. What started as a father comforting his
son on the couch had led to something else. Mike was beginning to
understand what his son needed.

Mike had always been what people would call a stud. He knew damn well how
people looked at him when he walked into a room (and especially when he
walked into the gym). He saw the quick glances from guys and girls
alike. He noticed how people looked at his biceps (closing in on 20 inches)
or at his beefy muscle butt stuffed into a pair of blue jeans.

And truth be told, Mike had caught some of those same glances around the
house from his son. If the buff straight dudes at the gym couldn't resist
checking him out, he figured the skinny boy at home probably couldn't
either. Mike spent many a Saturday during the summer mowing the grass with
his shirt off, covered in sweat, trying to impress the neighbor's wives,
and many a time he'd caught his son watching from a window. And when Mike
lounged around the living room in his underwear (white briefs, of course),
he couldn't help but notice his son take his eyes off the TV a little more
than usual.

So it didn't surprise Mike at all that Brandon might want to feel up his
body. Just to get his hands on something so strong and different from
himself, what boy wouldn't jump at that? Mike sure as hell wasn't gay—
or even bi— but on today of all days, if playing with his dad's body
would make Brandon feel better, Mike would let him.

But now Mike realized something else. Something about his armpit was having
an effect on his son. Mike kept himself clean. He showered good every night
after work, but working outside all day the next day made a man, well,
manly.

"You sure you wanna do this, Brandon?" he asked.

"Mmmhmm," Brandon said nervously. He licked his lips.

Looking into his dad's eyes, Brandon began kissing Mike's pec again,
carefully working his way up. Mike kept his right hand behind his son's
head, gently guiding him. His left hand was behind his head, exposing a pit
of brown, moist hairs.

"Yeah, boy, keep goin'...," he whispered.

Brandon's face was inches from his dad's pit. The smell overwhelmed him and
made his dick throb. A drop of sweat ran out of the pit and down Mike's
side. Brandon could feel his dad's dick grow under him.

Slowly, and with his Mike's encouragement, Brandon brought his face to his
dad's pit.

"Mmmmmm..." Both men moaned.

With his nose now buried deeply in the wet hairs of his Mike's pit, Brandon
breathed in as deeply as he could, savoring the manliness. It was unlike
anything he'd imagined. Before today, he never would've thought he'd be
turned on by a man's sweaty armpit. But this was not any day, and this was
not any man.

"Aww, yeah," his dad sighed. "Fuck yeah. You like that smell coming out of
your daddy's pits, boy? That make you feel good, huh?"

"Mmmm...Yeah, Dad," Brandon muttered in between breaths.

Brandon kissed the dark, sweaty hairs of his dad's pit. It wasn't
enough. He began to lick it out. It made his dick so hard it hurt. Mike
began moaning heavily as he pressed his son's face into his armpit.

"Yeah, you like that sweaty armpit, don't ya? That's a real man pit,
boy. Get in there and lick it out for me, Brand."

Brandon grunted, his face held firmly in place by his dad's strong
hands. To balance himself, he used one hand to grip his dad's muscular arm,
and with the other he clutched his father's meaty, hairy pec, still covered
in slobber from his son's mouth. Brandon took several quick licks of the
dark, wet hairs. The taste was like the sweat off Mike's chest, only
richer. And more manly. With his tongue out, Brandon licked the entire
length of his dad's pit, coating the hairs in his spit. He worked his hand
down his dad's arm, feeling the thick biceps.

"Yeah I figured out what my boy needed," Mike said. He was feeling bold
now. "Just needed a real man to worship, huh boy?"

Brandon grunted.

"Here, boy," Mike said as he lifted his other arm and motioned. Brandon
understood, switched sides, and began to work on the other ripe pit.

Again he was rewarded with the smell and taste of a real man. He wanted to
savor it forever. With his dad holding the back of his head, he pushed his
face in firmly and inhaled deeply, breathing out through his mouth.

Mike held his son tight and whispered in his ear, "Fuck yeah, Brand. Get it
clean, son."

Brandon began rubbing his entire face in his dad's saliva-covered pit. The
smell and taste had caused a chain reaction in Brandon's brain that led
directly to his dick. He was now rocking back and forth, grinding his hips
in his dad's lap. He no longer made any effort to conceal his hard dick
rubbing against his dad's belly through his shorts.

His eyes closed, Mike leaned his head back again. He could feel Brandon's
boner rubbing against his chest. His own cock was now hard as a rock as his
son grinded into him.

"Yeah, baby, keep goin'..."

With his face still buried, Brandon whimpered and let out several guttural
sounds. Mike knew what was happening. He held his son's face firmly in his
pit. Brandon's entire body shook as his cock began to pulsate. Without
touching himself, Brandon shot several thick ropes of cum in his underwear.

"Mmmm, good boy. Let it out, baby," Mike said.

Mike held onto his son for several minutes as he came down. Brandon slowly
pulled out of his dad's pit. His face was slick with sweat and spit.

Mike spoke first. "That better, boy?"

"Mmmhmm," Brandon responded, suddenly red in the face.

Mike sensed his son's apprehension.

"C'mere boy..." He pushed Brandon's blond hair to the side then leaned
forward and kissed his forehead.

"You're my boy, you know that? I don't like to see you hurtin'. You
understand me?"

"Yeah," Brandon said smiling, "I understand, Dad. That, like, really helped
me..."

Mike laughed. He picked Brandon up, sat him to the side, and stood up,
adjusting his hard dick in his pants. He was glad he hadn't cum—he
didn't want Brandon to get the wrong idea and think he was gay.

It seemed strange though that they could both be so turned on and still
have most of their clothes on.

"Alright boy," Mike said. "I gotta take a shower. Order us a pizza and get
cleaned up. You might wanna put on some new drawers."

He scooped up his shirt, threw it over his shoulder, and headed down the
hall for his bedroom.

Brandon leaned back on the couch for a moment. He felt very alone. Still
breathing deeply, he could smell his father's sweat all over his face. He
licked his lips and closed his eyes. The taste of his father's manliness
filled him. He didn't fully understand what was happening but he knew he
wanted this to never end.

After all, it was Friday. His father was off this weekend, and for the
first time in a long time, Brandon was looking forward to spending time
with him.


To be continued.

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