Like Father Like Son Ch. 01

"Shoot your load up inside me, Jake," Marcus called out, breathlessly. "Go for it, mate!"

Jake looked like he was about to comply with his friend's request, and I must say I would have been very pleased to have seen him depositing his semen in a series of grunting spasms deep up inside the rump he was being so enthusiastically offered, but it seemed he had rather different ideas.

After a few further – and to my eyes, overly brash – lunges, he pulled out of Marcus and paused for a moment with his cock arching upwards at the threshold of what it had just so brusquely enjoyed.

He sniffed the air and took a moment to savour the sordid bouquet of the hole he had just plundered, before declaring: "Your butt smells so hot, dude!"

Again I wondered if this was an attempt by Jake to prove to me that the son I'd brought up had become a man. After all, this was very much the sort of thing I would enjoy doing in his position and he may well have picked up the habit from watching me over countless nights.

"It doesn't smell as hot as it did in that tent, mate," Marcus reminded him and the two of them giggled. This must be a reference to when they had camped out a couple of nights at a music festival in October.

Oh, to have had a sniff of that hot fug after the two of them had been at it! The front of my pyjama bottoms took a sudden lurch upwards at the mere idea of them stinking out Jake's two-man tent with their lewd exertions. I seemed to remember Jake had taken his girlfriend and mate of hers along on that trip, complete with their own, more extravagant sleeping arrangements. I wondered what dear, sweet Ellie had made of the indecorous smell in the boys' cramped tent first thing in the morning; that unique combination of bum and cum.

Jake shuffled down the bed, away from Marcus' bent body, and announced that he had something else in mind which his friend, he was sure, would greatly enjoy.

Putting his hands back on his friend's hips and making just the slightest and almost imperceptible glance in my direction, he pressed his face towards the splayed buttocks in front of him, reaching forwards to rim the splayed and gaping arsehole his cock had just vacated.

A post-fuck rim: "You lucky sod, Jake", I thought again. It had taken me ages to discover that the most rewarding rim-jobs were the ones administered to a freshly-ploughed hole, but it seemed Jake had made such a fortuitous discovery relatively soon after taking up the same hobby.

Again, I strongly suspected what he was doing was on account of the audience he knew he had. He was well aware that I regard rimming as being the most rewarding and sophisticated of the activities I indulge in with my own gender, and he was trying to prove to me that he was himself a connoisseur of such an elegant art-form.

Perhaps he was right, I mused: perhaps my little boy really was 'all growed up'.

He pressed his face to Marcus' rump and extended his tongue forwards to where he must be able to see the other boy's swollen hole was dilated outwards. For a second time, he couldn't help but smirk: he was aware I was standing watching him, no doubt suspecting – quite rightly – that I had a growing hard-on, and he was revelling in the performance he was giving me.

But then, when he actually pushed forwards and went in for the bullseye, I found myself feeling shocked and appalled to see what Jake was doing.

It wasn't the sight of my son with his mouth on another lad's bum that was so offending me: it was the fact he was administering the most inept rim-job I'd ever seen in the flesh. He was flicking his tongue back and forth against Marcus' hole like they do for dramatic effect in porn films; dabbing at it with the tip like he was afraid to actually taste what was being presented to him; wiggling his tongue up and down as if intentionally making a silly face.

"You're doing it all wrong, son," I was almost compelled to call out. I wanted to march in and take over from him, to show him how such a delicate act should really be performed by one man on another. But obviously I didn't interrupt their moment together and risk upsetting Marcus who seemed oblivious to my presence, and held back in the doorway, exasperated by the mess Jake was making of what should have been an intensely erotic and sensual moment of intimacy.

I remembered he'd walked in on me rimming another man in our lounge quite a few months earlier. While at the time I'd been annoyed with him for quite deliberately interrupting us, now I was more annoyed that he hadn't learned anything from what he'd seen me doing.

"You don't lap at it like a fucking saucer of milk," I was thinking, with growing frustration. "You should be caressing his entrance with your tongue, not teasing it like that; you should be massaging his passage and making him gasp with excitement, not just fannying around like it's a lollipop."

Marcus, however, seemed to be enjoying what my son was doing to his bum. He raised himself upwards and prized his buttocks apart with both hands to give his friend better access, smiling over his shoulder at Jake as his cock poked upwards in its unabated arousal.

It seemed that my son's lover was easy to please.

I noticed, then, that Marcus' erection had its own captivating beauty, arching so gracefully upwards from between his rounded, muscular thighs. The head of it was a handsome shiny purple – almost metallic in its lustre – and the size of its shaft was slightly larger than average, making it very pleasingly proportioned with respect to the rest of his athletic, toned body.

Jake emerged from between his buttocks and grinned back upwards at him.

"You like having a Furlong tongue lapping at your arse?" he asked before spitting out a stray anal hair that must have been tickling his tongue.

"You know I do," Marcus chuckled, apparently excited to have another boy licking his backside, regardless of the inelegance of the technique which had been employed.

Jake looked up at his friend and grinned naughtily. "And I bet you'd like a Furlong mouth sucking your cock at the same time my tongue was rimming your arse!"

("Call that rimming?" I couldn't help but think. "You really have no idea, Jake.")

Marcus chuckled hesitantly, confused about the point Jake was trying to make. "If only that were possible," he suggested with his voice betraying his obvious uncertainty.

Jake leaned in to take another few clumsy licks of Marcus' delicious-looking bum and then grinned up at him again. "You'd love it though, wouldn't you? Having a Furlong mouth slobbering away on your horny cock and another rimming your cute arse! You'd love that!"

Marcus smiled at Jake but, just like me, didn't see where this was headed. "I guess I would," he offered with an uneasy shrug.

"You'd be well up for it wouldn't you?" Jake asked salaciously.

"You know I would," Marcus chuckled with obvious puzzlement before Jake turned towards the doorway and called out:

"You might as well come in, dad! I know you're out there!"

I hesitated for a moment, caught off-guard by Jake's abrupt invitation. In spite of what he'd said about the two Furlong tongues, I really had not expected him to ask me to join in the pair of them in the middle of what they were doing.

I held back for a moment, my mind reeling about what I should do, before Jake called out again, "Come on, dad! I can see the stripes on your pyjamas!"

There was no point pretending I wasn't here: as I'd surmised all along, he had fully expected me to do what he himself had obviously done so many times before and position myself voyeuristically outside his bedroom door.

"Okay," I said, pushing my way into my son's bedroom. "You win. Now what were you saying about there being two Furlong mouths?"

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To be concluded

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