Subject: Father’s Day Tales: The Short Straw, Part Three Here’s a story taken from my Tumblr, at talesfromunderthemattress.tumblr. You can find this one, illustrated by Graham Groans (grahamgroans.newtumbl), in one big single part here: talesfromunderthemattress.tumblr/post/176125959736/ You can also find a whole lot more of my stories here on Nifty – look for ‘a4f101’ in the Prolific Authors listing. This story is purely a work of adult erotic fantasy, copyright me 2019. I own it and all legal rights to it. **That means you cannot repost, reformat, or reproduce this story anywhere without my express permission.** If you’re under the age of majority in your jurisdiction, please come back when you’re of legal age. Nifty is an incredible free service that depends on your donations to survive. It changed my life, and maybe it’s changed yours too. Please help them to keep providing this awesome resource for all of fty/donate.html I love hearing from you guys. ail. Enjoy. ***** PREVIOUSLY: Jason whine-growled in frustration and thrust his tongue inside Mike’s mouth, giving his cock a strong, deft-wristed stroke that had the big linebacker moaning into him. Above them, Uncle Graham’s hips locked into a jackhammering pace, his sweat raining down over Jason’s sun-warmed back, grunting with fuck-effort and growling with manly hunger as he claimed Jason’s ass. He finally let out a deep-chested bellowing roar that echoed back off the trees around them, driving his big cock home inside Jason with a series of deep, solid, spaced-apart thrusts, breeding thrusts driving home his potent seed, deep into Jason’s guts. “Oh buddy,” Uncle Graham murmured, draping his thick-muscled torso over Jason’s back, the sweat from his chest fur mingling with Jason’s. Jason shivered, his hole clutching, throbbing around his uncle’s thickness, his loins burning with the need to cum. His uncle’s lips grazed through the sweat on the side of his neck and nuzzled at his ear. “Thank you, kiddo,” he half-whispered into his ear, and Jason turned to meet his lips in a slow, deep kiss. * * * * * Eventually Uncle Graham extracted himself from Jason’s hole, standing up on unsteady legs, taking the fresh beer Phil handed to him and draining half of it in long, thirsty gulps, followed by a deep-chested burp that had Mike and Phil chuckling. Even Jason joined in, flopping onto his sweaty back on the bench seat, the vinyl hot and sticky against his flesh. He could feel his hole, pulsing and throbbing and tingling, sticky and used. Surely he was gaping open by now; he could feel the slow, warm trickle of cum oozing from his tunnel. Surely he could take a break now, just for a minute, a moment to get his bearings after being so thoroughly cored out by his cousin and his uncle, the big, thick-cocked men who were dabbing fists and grinning proudly at each other. Uncle Graham slung his big arm round Mike’s broad shoulders, and the two of them flopped down on the opposite bench, thick, muscular thighs sprawled companionably wide, turning to each other and exchanging a long, languid French kiss. Jason watched them, his hand finding its way back to the stiffness of his cock again. All of this was so wrong, so hot, so deep between them. So right for them, in the end. Phil stepped over to the cooler and retrieved two more beers, popping the tops and handing one to his son as he sat down beside him. He’d taken his shirt off, but otherwise was the only one of them still clothed, and Jason took a moment to take in the impressive sight of the man who’d sired him. For whatever genetic reason, he wasn’t as tall as Uncle Graham, his younger brother, but was no less thickly, powerfully built, his thighs stockier and stronger. His pecs were strong, prominent on his beefy frame, forested with a thicket of brown fur that was silvering higher up, capped with two thick brown nipples. His midsection wasn’t cut like Jason’s or Mike’s anymore, but it was middle-aged solid. You could see the powerhouse athlete he’d been in his younger days, overlaid with mature beef, and Jason found his whole body thrilling to the powerful sight of the sexy man who’d created him. A vision of his future, maybe, and a very satisfying one, if that turned out to be true. For his part, Phil’s gaze had turned from his brother and nephew, lazily, happily swapping spit, to his own son, all the prime young finery of the blond tight end sprawled out on the bench beside him. He took a swallow of his beer and ran one big hand up and down the muscular spread of his son’s thigh, admiring the power and definition of it. Stadler legs, strong and thick and built for the long haul. He didn’t miss the way Jason’s big young cock bobbed in his son’s loosely gripping fist, the way his pinkish nips stiffened up, the way his tight, defined abs clutched a little harder at his father’s touch. The scent coming off of the kid, a mix of sweat and cum and pure male pheromone, stirred Phil’s cock in his shorts even more, and the way Jason stared at the thickness of the bulge in his shorts made him grin. Right then, a couple of drinks under his belt, the early-June air warm, a light fresh breeze coming off the lake, the satisfied haze of mansex settled over the boat, his handsome young progeny by his side, he felt like just about the luckiest man on the planet. A perfect way to salute Father’s Day, for sure. When Phil slipped his arm round Jason’s strong young neck and leaned in, his son responded automatically, instinctively, sitting up straighter in his seat, his pretty lips parting as Phil closed in to press his own lips to them. Jason moaned into his mouth as Phil slowly kissed him for the first time that day, his long, thick tongue sliding easily into Jason’s receptive, responsive mouth, and he let out a deep-chested rumble of pleasure as their tongues engaged each other. Maybe even more than watching Jason’s perfectly sculpted tail getting thoroughly family-fucked, this set his cock throbbing, exchanging this deep, sensual, easy intimacy with his boy. Never in a million years had he expected all this to develop, but he was sure glad it had, and even gladder that despite all Jason’s bluster and surface bitching about it, his boy loved it as much as he did. Phil’s big hand roved up and down Jason’s thigh, coursing over the strong, proud young musculature, slowly working up the inside of it, over that sensitive spot he knew so well by now. He was built and wired largely the same way � when they were young like Mike and Jason, all Graham ever had to do to get his big brother in the mood was slide his hand up and down his inner thigh just like that, and he’d be assured of a good, deep, loving brotherfuck. Now, Phil’s hand grazed all the way up to the hefty fullness of his stud kid’s balls, all laden with unshot cum in a way that must have felt like pure torture to the big young jock. Well, that was alright. It was a fine line between pleasure and discomfort sometimes, and when his son’s moment did arrive � and it would, Phil intended to make sure of it � he and his big young cum-churning balls would be amply rewarded, and relieved. His thumb caressed the warm flesh between the top of Jason’s thigh and his groin, and Phil savored the way his kid trembled and moaned into his mouth, spreading those premium jock thighs even wider, allowing even more access to Phil’s thick, questing fingers. He touched them to the puffy, well-fucked stickiness of his kid’s hole, feeling the slick mixture of lube and family cum that dressed it, swirling his fingers round the tender ring of muscle as Jason moaned deeper and instinctively bucked his hips. Yeah, Phil knew what his flesh and blood needed, alright. They all did, maybe even better than Jason himself did. It had been the same way with Mikey when he’d come of age, the same as it had been with Graham back in the day. It was even more true of Jason now, as he moaned around his father’s probing lover’s tongue, the ring of muscle that was the gateway to his core opening to allow Phil’s thick, gently insistent digit to press inside of his wet, pulsing warmth. “Looks like Daddy’s finally gonna get his,” Graham chuckled, he and Mike watching the proceedings and lazily handling their sticky cocks. “You know I like sloppy thirds, little brother,” Phil winked at them, pressing his long finger further up inside Jason to rub his son’s creamed prostate, making the handsome young jock writhe and moan and clutch at the big, bunched muscle of his father’s upper arm. God, there they went again, treating him like an object, a fuck-toy, that prime cut of Wagyu beef they were all eager to get a piece of, to devour lustily. It made Jason’s cock spurt another pent-up stream of precum, soaking into his blond bush, glazing his abs, as Phil looked into his eyes with a warm, yet intent grin, and fingerfucked him with a lover’s languid deliberation. Phil looked down at that handsome piece his son was sporting, then back to his boy, locking eyes with him as he ducked his head low and took his son’s cock in his mouth, wrapping his thick, wet tongue around it and slowly sinking his soft, yet strong lips down its sticky, veiny rigidity. Jason’s hips bucked up as he gasped, clutching his father’s bunched bis and tris with one hand, the back of his head with the other. He huffed out a wordless moan of lust and need, trying to feed his cock to his own father, but Phil was in control here, ever the paterfamilias, exercising his right. Phil’s other hand came down to push Jason’s hips back down, to stop his urgent, instinctual attempts to fuck his father’s face, forcing his son to submit to a slow, spit-dripping sucking that kept him riding the edge of that wave inside of him, the one that seemed to have been constantly cresting for like an hour now, always just offshore, never quite seeming to break. “Dad,” Jason moaned, voice full of lust and need and pent-up frustration, sounding a warning, too. He couldn’t take much more of this. He knew there was more to come. He both feared it, and welcomed it, but beyond all of that, fuck, he just wanted to cum… Phil’s lips came up off Jason’s straining, drooling cock with a wet pop, his sexy grin reforming immediately as he slid up Jason’s body, his cool grey-blue eyes fixed on his son’s. “You need it bad, dontcha son?” he murmured, voice thick and rich and deep. All Jason could do was nod, feeling like a little kid who didn’t yet have the words to ask for what he wanted. What he needed. “What do you need, son?” Phil went on, gently, warmly insistent, his finger still lazily stroking Jason’s hot button, deep inside of him. “Say it. Tell me, buddy.” His eyes bored into Jason’s, and his stroking finger caressed his son’s prostate with intent. “Tell Daddy what you want, son,” he said, the command in his voice underpinning the lusty, loving warmth. “You, Dad,” Jason practically whimpered, his hand finding the back of Phil’s insistently probing one. Almost like he wanted to pull it away, to stop its maddening, inflaming motion. But instead, he found himself pressing on it, pushing it deeper, gasping and biting his lip needfully as it pressed even more to him. “I need you. Need you kocaeli escort bayan to…” “Need me to what, son?” Phil said huskily, watching his handsome boy bite his lip and writhe against the sticky, sweaty vinyl of the seat. “I need you to fuck me, Dad,” Jason moaned, his voice ragged with desire, his cheeks hot with lust and shame. “I know you do, buddy,” Phil murmured warmly, leaning up to brush his lips over Jason’s. “I’ve always known. And I always will, son.” Jason let out a soft whimper as Phil slipped his tongue back inside of him, kissing him with a lover’s lusty hunger, shifting around between his son’s spread jock thighs as they devoured each other’s tongues and spit. He finally broke the kiss to settle down between his stellar legs, big hands sliding up the bulging muscular sculpture of them, spreading them even wider, pushing them up and back as Jason moaned and whined his deep, core need. “So beautiful,” Phil murmured huskily, eyes fixed on the sticky pink tightness of Jason’s hole, glazed with his brother’s and nephew’s cum, before diving in to devour it. “Christ, that’s so fuckin’ nasty,” Mike grunted, fisting his rehardened cock with one hand, taking a swig of his beer with the other, unable to tear his eyes away from the sight of his Uncle Phil’s head bobbing and pressing and shifting, the lewd slurping sounds and the lusty, animal grunts he emitted as he ate his well-fucked son out with gusto. “I know, right?” his father chuckled beside him, his thick fingers drawing a slow circle round the stiffness of his son’s fur-lined nipple. “And in the best possible way, kiddo.” “Shit, I’ll drink to that,” Mike chuckled, and the two of them clinked their beers together in a toast, before turning to reengage each other’s mouths in another slow, sloppy father-son makeout. “Aw fuck, Dad,” Jason keened as his father’s tongue worked up inside his well-fucked hole, savoring the thick, creamy remnants of family cum that lined it. Phil just growled in response, his eyes locking on Jason’s over the top of his aching, leaking cock, which by now he was hesitant to touch, afraid he might inadvertently trigger his load and bring this whole intense experience to a sudden, untimely end. But then, he knew that wouldn’t be the end of it. Not quite. There was still one part left to go, maybe the biggest, most important of all. He shivered at the sensations his father was setting off inside of him, and at the prospect of what, and who, was yet to come. Instead, he made himself grip the cushion beneath him, knuckles white with tension as he moaned and bucked his ass against his father’s hungry lapping tongue, unable to bear the sensations, unable to imagine them ever stopping. “Cushions,” Phil barked, voice thick with spit and the cum coating his tongue, when he finally came up for air, the silvered brown hairs of his trimmed beard flecked with the stuff. Uncle Graham and Mike jumped to attention, lifting the base of their bench seat to retrieve the big square outdoor cushions from the storage bin beneath it. They laid them out on the deck of the boat, as Phil stood up between Jason’s spread thighs, gazing down at his son with a deep smile and intensity in his eyes, running his hand down the furred, strong thickness of his midsection, towards the waistband of his shorts. Jason moved without thinking, sitting upright with a half-dazed expression, his hands moving to his father’s shorts, finding the button and undoing it, opening them, tugging them down Phil’s muscular thighs to reveal his briefs, utterly stuffed with fat, hard paternal cock, the cotton soaked through where the big head of it had been flowing precum freely for the last hour or more. Jason moaned at the sight, and was reaching for his father’s sturdy hips even before his shorts had hit the deck, zeroing in on that fat bulge, the fount of his creation, the whole reason he was here, the whole reason he *was*. He didn’t even wait to skin the straining briefs down, just leaned in and latched his hungry mouth onto the wet-spotting head of Phil’s bulge, encasing the mineral-sticky cotton with his lips and lashing at it with his tongue. “Good boy,” Phil growled from above, cupping the back of his head, drawing him in as close as he could, so Jason’s nostrils filled with the scents of sweat and cotton and precum, his father’s essence, making his mouth water and soak the fabric even more. Jason moaned around the throbbing bulge in reply and suckled on it harder, his hands caressing the thick, furred power of the powerful thighs he’d inherited. “Go get him, big bro,” Uncle Graham murmured, and Phil favored his brother and nephew with a grin and a wink as he hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his black briefs and started to skin them down over the muscular swell of his powerful ass. He gently eased his son’s handsome head back, giving him room to free his cock, and Jason gasped at the sight of it. It wasn’t his first time seeing it, nor would it be his last, but it impressed every time. Phil might not have had quite the stature of his younger brother or nephew, but he had the biggest cock of them all, just on nine solid, thick inches of girthy man cock, gnarled with veins that somehow made the fucking thing even more handsome, powerful, purposeful-looking. A hefty set of balls hung beneath it, and Jason just gaped at the sight of the whole thing. Then he looked up at his father reverently, waiting for the handsome man’s smiling nod, before taking the powerful piece in his hand, then parting his lips to take it in his mouth. “Oh yeah, baby boy,” Phil groaned, eyes closing, sinking his fingers into his son’s sweaty blond hair, as the boy treated him just right. He was grateful, as always, to Mike for showing Jason how this was done, just as he’d showed Graham how it was done around the same age. It had meant a tremendous amount of pleasure and satisfaction for all of them, especially right now, as his son lavished his thick cock with loving, respectful attention, swirling his tongue around it as his lips nursed at the upper reaches, his hand gripping the throbbing base, moaning with lusty satisfaction as he savored the cock that had created him. Jason was practically dizzy with all the sensations coursing through his head and his body � the throb of his father’s cock between his lips, the salty musk of it mixing into the spit that coated his tongue, the dense pheromonal sweat emanating from his thick dark bush. He focused on breathing it all in through his flaring nostrils, soaking up all the flavors and textures with his tongue, paying tribute to his father on this special day in the best way he knew how. For the first time ever, in the back of his mind, he thought that instead of going chasing pussy after all this was over, he might go looking for more cock instead. Grindr and Scruff were just a few taps and swipes away, after all. But no. Maybe not. It just wouldn’t be the same. Wouldn’t be fair to whatever rando he procured, to be mentally measured up against this man. His man. His Dad. Better to savor this experience instead, his lips stretching around the man’s throbbing, vein-ridged girth, flowing salty precum over his tongue, filling his nose with pheromonal musk, his own cock leaking a steady flow of precum onto the deck beneath them, untended and agitated. His thick spit flowed down his father’s shaft, soaking the hair that lined the fat base of it, dousing his heavy son-making balls, dripping onto the deck along with Jason’s precum. He opened his eyes briefly, and saw Mike had climbed up to straddle his own father’s lap, the two of them kissing with deep, lusty intensity, Uncle Graham’s big hairy-backed hands kneading the swollen terrain of Mike’s back and the powerful musculature of his high, tight ass. Phil let a steady flow of grunts and murmured endearments and encouragements flow down over his son. He’d gotten so good at this, and it filled him with a kind of perverse pride to see his only son do so well at this, as he’d done in just about everything he’d set his mind to, with his father’s encouragement, over the years. God, he had pretty lips, just like his mother’s. He half-smirked as he mused to himself that his son was way better at this than his ex-wife had ever been. Ordinarily, he might have been perfectly content to let Jason finish him this way � it certainly wouldn’t be the first time � but not today. There was more he wanted, and more Jason wanted, needed, too. “Son,” he said, warm but firm, his big hands clutching the sides of Jason’s handsome face. Jason opened his eyes and looked worshipfully up at him, and god damn that made Phil’s balls twinge even harder. But he had to maintain his control. It was as much for Jason as it was for him, now. He focused instead on kicking his ankles free of his shucked briefs, then eased Jason’s stretched lips up and back off of him, nice and slow, savoring the way his thick shaft shone with the fresh layer of saliva coating it now. Savoring even more the way Jason’s pink tongue gleamed as it slowly teased out one last lick along the underside as he went. Phil reached down, tucking his hands under Jason’s armpits, and pulled him upright. Jason blushed again, because even though his hunger and his drives had thoroughly taken primacy now, there was still that shamed part of his psyche lurking in the background. He shouldn’t want this the way he did. He shouldn’t be as good at it as he was. But there was *should*, and there was the fact of all the things he’d already done today, all the things he was still prepared, even eager, to do yet. And so he let his father guide him upright, eye to eye, man to man, to stand before him. Not to be judged, but desired, and loved, and encouraged in all those things inside of him too. To be the man he was, no matter the right or the wrong of it. Phil’s big hands stroked up and down Jason’s fine flanks, up and down the powerful athlete’s form of his lats, drinking in the perfection of the boy he’d made 20 years ago. This fine young stud of his, always ready to kick ass and take on the world, and win it. In this as much as anything, he thought, feeling the heat of that deep in his loins. He leaned in and pressed his lips to Jason’s, savoring his jock kid’s soft little grunt, the way his tongue licked almost tentatively at his father’s lips, seeking permission. Phil gave it to him with his own tongue, wrapping his thick, furred forearms round Jason’s tight waist and kissing him deeply, murmuring a deeper tone in reply to Jason’s, steering his boy around and lowering him to the cushions Graham and Mikey had laid out for them on the deck. Jason spread his thighs to his father automatically, the two of them maintaining the deep tongue thrusts of their kiss as Phil guided him onto his back and open, positioning himself between the sculpted, golden-haired thickness of Jason’s jock thighs. Graham and Mike were otherwise engaged, lost in their own deep, incestuous makeout, so it fell to Phil to lube himself up. But that was OK � this felt like his responsibility now, just as it was his responsibility to add a fresh coating of lube to Jason’s willing, thoroughly warmed-up kocaeli sınırsız escort hole, mixing it with the two loads of cum and the untold amount of spit that already glazed his insides, swirling it around, spreading it over every throbbing inch of his inner cavity. Phil’s hands found Jason’s hips, sliding over and under them to lift them up, Jason working with him. Their kiss wound its way to its end, and Jason laid back, looking up at his handsome father with a complex mix of feelings � love, lust, pride, shame, and beneath it all, the primal heat that animated everything that had happened today. God, he was beautiful, Phil thought proudly to himself, one hand now positioning the aching, throbbing length of his cock, pressing the lubed, precum-flowing head of it to his son’s slicked entry. “I love you, Dad,” Jason said, his voice at once husky and boyish, and Phil felt his whole insides flare with love for his boy. No matter what else they did, or were about to do, that was everything. It was the only thing, really. “I love you too, son,” Phil said back, smiling at his pride and joy, pushing his hips forward, pushing himself inside of Jason, watching his son’s eyelids flutter and the flush overtake his face once more as he gasped, then sighed, then let his father inside of him fully, at last. God, he was so hot inside, hot and wet and thick with his family’s leavings, lush and creamy all around the hefty girth of Phil’s cock, smiling blissfully as his father filled him deeply. Phil slipped his arms around Jason’s torso and held him tight as he drove inside him, rumbling deep in his thick chest as he sank his full length inside his son’s welcoming guts, thoroughly warmed up for him by his little brother and his nephew. He watched Jason bite his bottom lip like he always did unconsciously when he was focusing on something real hard, and all of a sudden the strength, depth, and power of their bond really hit home for Phil, making his insides throb with love and lust and pride. As much as first Mike’s, then Uncle Graham’s cocks had made his toes curl and his cock bounce, for Jason, there was nothing quite like feeling his father implanted inside of him like this. He still regularly stroked off to the memory of their first time doing this, his first Father’s Day cruise with his family guys, still busted epic loads all over the muscles of his torso reliving the various times they’d done it since then. For all of his misgivings and complexes about all they’d done today, the confident, girl-chasing dude he presented to the rest of the world was methodically unmasked by these guys every single time, revealing him for what he really was � happy, complete, fully himself with another man, one of his men, his family, inside of him like this. This man, most of all. The man who’d made him, raised him, taught him, and who fucked him now like nobody else ever had, or would. With nine thick inches of his father’s cock buried inside of him, at long last, Jason gave up on his inner protestations and let himself just be. Let himself be fucked, and loved, and let himself fuck and love right back. After all the lusty, sweaty, hard-driving intensity of earlier, things were mellower now, deeper, slower. The vibe was catching; up on the long starboard bench, Mike was still riding his father’s lap, reaching behind him to grasp Graham’s long, hard cockshaft, stroking a coating of glossy lube all over it as they kissed and murmured. Then he rose up, powerful quads bulging, adjusted the angle of his ass, and sank back down, taking his father’s length in one long, slow slide that had them moaning deep bass notes together. Phil had been waiting all day for this, and he was taking his damn time with it, giving his son the kind of deep, slow-driving, long-dicking thrusts he knew Jason liked best. Each stroke of his cock up inside his son was a flag planted, a stake claimed, and the more he did it, the more Jason gave himself up, surrendering himself to the basest of urges, his overwhelming desire to be fucked and filled and claimed, loved in a way nobody else could. He worked his insides around his father’s lengthy, girthy thickness, eliciting deep appreciative grunts and probing wet kisses from the man who’d made him, who had a permanent claim to him in a way nobody else ever would. Jason’s hands explored the thick, powerfully muscled terrain of Phil’s arms, his shoulders, the back of his neck, down over his back to feel the driving, clutching mass of his glutes, the powerful, shapely ass he’d inherited from this man. The shifting, thrusting swells of his father’s thick, powerful body just spurred Jason’s lust on even further, trying to pull his father deeper into him, wrapping his powerful young thighs around Phil’s sturdy waist to draw him in as far as he could. Phil kissed him even more lustily, fucked him even deeper, using the experience of long decades of doing this to adjust the angle of his thrusts, the depth of them, hitting Jason inside in new ways, sparking new explosions inside them both as they drove on and on. The shade in the cove shifted, lengthened, the water quiet around them as the boat rocked on it, as four men grunted and thrust and murmured, moaned, not just fucking now, but making love. The intensity built between them all, Mike riding his father’s long hard cock with sweaty intent, Phil driving up inside Jason’s tight, creamy, clutching depths harder, faster, deeper, angling to thrust his cock across Jason’s prostate more determinedly, feeling his son’s cock throb in response between them even more intensely. The two father-son couples fed off each other now, amping each other up, their fucklust flowing, exchanging, becoming one writhing mass of hot male desire and drive. “I wanna cum, Dad,” Jason moaned. The fire had been thoroughly stoked inside of him for awhile now, building and building, his thrice-denied orgasm building to an unstoppable force in his loins and balls and cock. He had to cum, just had to, or else he might go crazy. Might just explode, self-combust, unless he could relieve the insane pressure building up in him. More than that, though, he wanted to gift it to his father, this epic load, the one special, unique thing he could give him for this special day. “Yeah, son? You gonna show me how big you can shoot for me?” Phil grunted huskily. Jason nodded eagerly, face gleaming with fucksweat, eyes starting to get hazy, unfocused, in that look Phil knew so well. Phil could see his little brother in that expression, and he couldn’t help but grin at the memories, all those times he’d fucked a huge load out of Graham over the decades they’d been fooling around together. Funny how the family traits diverged, then came together again. They were surely about to come together now, all of them, Graham and his boy building to a fever pitch of their own off to Phil and Jason’s side. Phil fixed his son with a deep look, complex, full of love and lust and pride and heat and power. He worked his hips, thrust his cock against the length of Jason’s chute that he knew his son liked best. He’d been holding his own load back for hours now, and especially this past stretch inside his boy, but it was time. Time for them both to finally let go, and come together, as one. “Cum, son,” Phil rasped now, fixing his gaze on Jason’s eyes. “Cum for Daddy. Show me, baby boy.” “Aw Dad,” Jason gasped. “Can I? Can I cum?” “Yeah, Jasey,” Phil nodded, voice husky and rich and warm. “Cum for me, son.” Jason gave him a loose kind of smile, his eyes locking hazily onto Phil’s, and then his handsome young muscles started to tense up, his mouth gaping open, his breath coming in deep, sharp gasps, his fingers sinking into the powerful thickness of Phil’s upper arms. Phil swore he could feel his son tightening around him, but illusion or not, there was no question, Jason was gonna bust his nut, and hard. Just as he thought that, Jason let out a hitching, moaning cry, and then hot jets of thick young cum started to spurt up between them, Phil driving his son’s ample, creamy young load out of him hands-free, Jason finding his voice and moaning lustily as he pumped his seed all over his sweaty, clenching musculature. Each orgasmic contraction tightened his hole even more around his father’s thrusting cock, and Phil at last let himself go, growling animalistically as he thrust up hard inside Jason’s clutching depths, and finally blasted off his own long-building cumload. As Phil and Jason writhed and shot and moaned, over on the bench, Graham’s hand found his son’s own sticky, leaking, throbbing length between them. With a quick, practiced stroke, he set off a second powerful load from the big linebacker, growling into each other’s mouths as his son started to milk his own paternal load from his big, full balls, drawing it up inside of him just like Jason was doing now, and had been doing for all of them the whole afternoon. A little more time passed. The breeze off the water cooled the sweat on heaving chests and sprawled thighs, as the four men spread out, recovering slowly from the epic peaks they’d just scaled together. Jason curled into his father’s side, savoring the press of the man’s lips to his sweaty temple, running his hand idly up and down the thick muscle of his father’s thigh, as Graham and Mike traded slow, lazy kisses nearby. “Fuck,” Mike said eventually, breaking the lazy postcoital quiet. “Sure did,” Phil chuckled, setting off low laughter among all of them, even Jason. Graham stood up, his cock hanging heavy and sticky, stretching his powerful muscles and yawning as he dug around in the cooler for four fresh beers, then handing them out. Jason and Phil sat up to take theirs, Phil easing his arm around his son’s perfect form, pressing a soft kiss to the sweat-salted skin of his tanned young shoulder. They clinked their beer cans together and took long, refreshing drafts of the cool amber liquid. “Did me proud, son,” Phil said, voice rich and deep and warm, and Jason smiled at him, a trace of the boy he used to be in it, the pride in a job well done, and a compliment received from the man who mattered most to him. “All of us, buddy,” Uncle Graham piped up from the bench, hoisting his beer in the air in salute. “Hey now, you got your own Father’s Day present,” Mike groused at his father with a mock frown. “You angling for Uncle Phil’s, too?” “Couldn’t hurt,” Uncle Graham shrugged with a grin, shooting a playful, unserious wink at Jason. “Yeah, that’s what you said the first time,” Mike grumbled, suppressing a grin of his own. “And look where it got us, big guy,” Uncle Graham said, wrapping one big arm round his big kid and drawing him close, kissing the side of his neck. “Right where we all want to be.” “Some of us more than others,” Mike said, giving Jason a direct, playful look that made him blush, as all three men turned their attention to him, big smiles masking lustier depths behind them. “Ah fuck you,” Jason said, face burning hot as he looked away, hiding a little smile of his own. There was still that part of him that wanted to front a little, and he wondered if it would izmit anal yapan escort ever go away, really. But maybe that was part of all this, he reflected, looking out to the quiet waters of the lake as he sipped on his beer. Part of what made it all so deep, so hot. So right. “Shit, can we at least eat something first?” Mike chuckled, and as his Dad and Uncle Graham fell into deeper laughter with him, Jason found himself joining in. * * * * * The Marina Grill was hopping as dusk fell, ’80s rock playing on the jukebox, sunburned boaters propping up the bar in various stages of sobriety, the smell of grilling meats coming from the kitchen. The crowd was predominantly male, guys of all shapes and sizes and ages winding down from their Father’s Day fun out on the lake, but there were a few women in the mix too. In particular, there was a college-aged duo, a pretty blonde and brunette, long-legged and tanned and dressed in little shorts and tank tops that looked casual, but had surely been selected to display their long legs, toned arms and perky breasts to greatest advantage. Jason had found his gaze returning to them, contemplating, speculating, imagining how they’d look without those tank tops they wore. Found their gazes returning to him, too, friendly smiles shot his way across the bar. Wondering what it might take, if it would even be possible, to see if one of them might want to go on a quiet little walk along the lakeshore with him, and see what happened from there… It was weird, though, he reflected, as he stood in line for the restroom. Despite how pretty they were, and despite his usual drives after a day like he’d had today, after all the things he’d done and had done to him, he was finding that urge pretty weak this evening. Still there, but like a guttering flame. A candle burning low. He frowned to himself a little, lost in thought as he waited his turn at the restroom door. “The blonde or the brunette?” Mike murmured close behind, and Jason felt the skin on the back of his neck prickle a little. He felt himself blushing, like he’d been caught doing something furtive and forbidden. Pretty fucking funny, considering. He shrugged, tried to play it off, looking back past Mike’s shoulder, finding them the only ones in the corridor to the restrooms right then. Thirty feet away, the noise of the bar went on, but for now, it was just the two of them. He felt the faint tickles low and deep inside him again as his nose caught those traces of Mike’s scent, stronger now after a day in the sun, and all the fucking they’d done. They’d all cleaned themselves up a little before pulling anchor and motoring back to the marina, a quick naked dip in the cool water of the cove, but you had to really scrub the particularly thick layer of sex smell off of them, as much as they’d all done together. Despite himself, Jason wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to. A part of him wanted to savor that smell all the way home, hunched down in the backseat of his Dad’s Denali, feeling another irrepressible hardon growing as he let the faint, persistent aromas of mansex fill his nostrils and his head while they still lasted. Jason stifled a little sound, tried not to shiver as he felt Mike’s big hand trailing fingers down his spine, down to the small of his back, inching the hem of his polo shirt up so he could draw slow circles in the golden hairs starting to come in above the crack of his ass, just like Mike had had since he was 16. He blushed even harder, knowing what Mike was doing couldn’t really be seen by anybody else, but still. He knew, and Mike knew, and that was all that mattered. He tried shifting away from his cousin, but Mike wouldn’t be denied, his big hand slipping inside the back of Jason’s shorts, as he tried to stifle a gasp, feeling Mike’s long fingers stroking over the curve of his ass. “Brunette’s cuter,” Mike murmured to him, sounding closer still. “But the blonde’s giving you the eye, bro.” Jason shrugged again, opened his mouth to reply, then closed it tight again to stifle another gasp as Mike’s fingers found their way down to the base of his trunks, to the elastic around the leg, and dug up past it. Seeking out the clammy heat deep down in there, the sticky, cummy humidity in his cleft. Jason clenched his teeth to stop the sound he wanted to make as Mike deftly stroked along his cleft, zeroing in on his hole. Christ, he hoped whoever was in the men’s room didn’t suddenly come out; he had no idea how he’d explain all this. A part of him wouldn’t even want to. “Still… I think you could do better, little bro,” his cousin said, husky and deep and sounding just like his father right then. Like both their fathers, and Jason had to suppress another shiver, inside and out. Then he had to quell a full-bore moan as Mike’s finger found his hole, still sticky and moist, and pressed up inside it. “A lot better,” Mike murmured quietly to him, as Jason tried at once to fight off the invasion of his finger, and fight the urge to welcome it, too. He could feel Mike’s fingertip swirling, rotating, inviting the flow of the three collected cumloads still inside of him, and oh fuck, if Mike pulled his cock out right here, right now, right in this corridor, all those people just feet away, all those men, he could… he would… fuckkkk… “You know better than anybody,” Mike murmured on. “Nobody fucks like your family does, Jasey.” Jason bit down another gasp and tried to suppress his shiver. Steeled himself inside, working up his nerve, then turned his head back again to look at his cousin. “Thought you wanted to eat something first,” he said, more steadily than he really felt, recalling Mike’s joke on the boat earlier. Well fuck � Jason was ready to show he could play along too. “I do,” Mike grinned at him, slowly extracting his hand from inside Jason’s shorts. Jason blushed at the gleam of cum on the tip of Mike’s long middle finger, and outright gasped when his cousin brought it to his own grinning lips and slipped it inside his mouth, sucking it clean, his eyes locked on Jason’s the whole time. Mike casually glanced over his shoulder, saw they were still alone, and then slid his big hand all the way back down inside Jason’s shorts, inside his trunks, and probed that long, spit-wet finger back up inside him. This time, Jason didn’t even try to resist him. Hell, his hole even seemed to milk Mike’s thick finger, like it had milked all of their cocks just a little while ago. Mike grinned bigger and let out a low, rumbling growl from deep in his big chest, probing and swirling inside Jason again, before drawing it back out. “You should too, little bro,” he said, and god damn, he was so warm and close and brotherly and yet so intense all at once. Jason was full-blown hard in his shorts in seconds. He didn’t even pull back when Mike slid his cummy, funky finger across Jason’s bottom lip, barely hesitated to part his lips and let Mike slip it inside his mouth, tangy and salty and dank with mancum, his family men’s cum, overlaid with the taste of his own ass. Found himself whimpering a little, and suckling on that finger as Mike probed it in and out, thrusting it like a cock past his lips and tongue and nodding slowly as he did, smiling all the while. The toilet flushed inside the men’s room, followed by a quick blast of water and the sound of the paper towel dispenser. Almost instantly, Mike retracted his finger and struck a casual pose, as Jason licked his lips and covered his bulging crotch with both hands. The bathroom door opened, and a sunburned older guy came out on slightly unsteady legs, nodding at Jason. “Head’s all yours,” he slurred, and made his way past them, back to the bar. Jason stepped past him into the bathroom, and this time it was Mike’s turn to make a surprised noise as Jason reached back to grab the pocket of his shorts and drag him in behind him. “Head’s all *yours*, fucker,” Jason almost snarled, feeling the sudden rush inside of him, the throb of his cock, tasting the salty musky tang of the men and the day on his tongue as he grabbed at the thickening bulge in Mike’s shorts. He almost laughed at the look of surprise on Mike’s handsome face, and then wanted to growl at the lusty grin that quickly followed it. “Lock the fucking door, you big dumb fuck,” Jason said, his voice throaty with need as he dropped to his knees on the tile floor, pushing everything else in his head aside as he yanked at his cousin’s fly. On the way back to the table 15 minutes later, he chanced a look across the bar, and saw the girls still there, now eyeing him and Mike both. He let his gaze linger on them, their pretty faces, their inviting smiles, the pertness of their tits beneath their tank tops, the way their contrasting coloring complemented each other, and yeah, for a minute there, he could real easily see the both of them, on their knees either side of his big, hard jock cock, competing to see which of them could please him better. He could see it, but for once, he couldn’t really feel it. For the first time in forever, maybe. Then he felt the tickle on the inside of his wrist, turning to look at his big cousin walking alongside him, his long fingers casually, subtly tickling against his skin. Giving him a friendly grin, but with a distinct gleam in his eye. Calling his attention back to where it belonged. “You good, little bro?” Mike said. Jason thought about that for a second, then slowly nodded. “Yeah, I’m good,” he said as they approached the table where his Dad and Uncle Graham awaited them, a round of fresh beers on the table, giving their boys a knowing grin. “Have fun, buddy?” Uncle Graham said, as Mike chuckled and Jason fought to suppress the prickling flush creeping up his skin from inside his polo shirt. “I guess so,” Phil drawled, fixing Jason with a smiling, deep look. He reached over to the front of Jason’s shirt and swiped at it. “But looks like you missed a spot.” Jason glanced down at his father’s thick fingertip, saw the streak of Mike’s cum there, and for a moment, he blushed even harder. He cast his eyes around, wondering if anyone had seen the subtle little gesture, but nobody seemed to have noticed. Not even the girls, who alternated between talking low and close to each other, and glancing his way. He gave them one last look, then turned his back to them, and his attention to his family. Felt the flush of embarrassment subside as he jutted out his strong jaw almost defiantly and looked at each of them. “I dunno about you assholes, but I’m hungry,” he said. “That’s my boy,” Phil grinned, his eyes twinkling along with it, reaching over to give the big muscles of his son’s shoulder a lingering, warm squeeze. “Our boy,” Uncle Graham added, and suddenly it was like the three older guys’ gazes on him had physical weight to go with their quiet, intent heat. He squared his shoulders and gave each of them an almost determined look in return. “If you’re lucky,” he said, and damn, he liked how much he sounded like his Dad right then. “Day’s not over yet,” said Mike, bumping his big hairy knee against Jason’s under the table and rubbing it up and down against his flesh. Jason nodded at him and took a sip on his fresh beer. “So let’s get the food and get the fuck outta here,” he said, savoring the way the three of them subtly shifted in their seats, knowing even after everything today, they were all stirring in their underwear again, just like he was. “I’m ready to go.” *The End*