Like Father Like Son Ch. 02

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I interrupt my son and his college friend late one night...
6.7k words
4.5
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Part 2 of the 2 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 02/17/2014
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I stood in front of them, my son grinning broadly at me while Marcus, still kneeling forwards with his hands prizing his arse-cheeks apart, peered over in wide-eyed horror.

"I just happened to see your light on and wondered what was keeping you two guys up," I said by way of flimsy explanation.

"Of course you did," Jake chuckled, and I was unable to stop myself from smiling back at my son in spite of his state of nudity. I made an effort to keep my eyes from making contact with his erection which he was brandishing flagrantly as if showing it off in some sort of macho display.

Marcus, meanwhile, struggled upright and away from him, and ended up crouching almost foetally against the headboard of the bed, trying to cover his genitals with both hands.

"I... er... I'm so sorry, Mr Furlong," he stammered, his face blushing a deep purple colour which nicely co-ordinated with that of the swollen head of his penis. "We were just messing around... and I... er... slipped... and Jake's tongue must have accidentally --"

He stopped when he saw that I was amused rather than angry and I did my best to reassure him, "It's okay, Marcus -- really. I think the point my son was trying to make was that there are two Furlong mouths in the household."

Marcus stared at me, wide-eyed and with face flushing so dark it looked like he had been slapped on both cheeks, seemingly still unable to understand the idea which Jake had been mooting.

"I hope you appreciate, dad," Jake cut in before Marcus could formulate a reply, "how good it is of me not to hold grudges. I could so easily have ticked you off for spying on us and then sent you away, just like you did when you were in my shoes."

"It is indeed very noble of you, Jake," I smiled. "I'm proud of you."

I realised that the front of my pyjama bottoms were still being pushed outwards by the semi-hard-on I'd developed before I'd entered the room but I made no attempt to hide my excitement. Marcus peered at my unconcealed bulge with continued bafflement at first, before it finally began to click with him what was going on. At that point his gaze shifted from my crotch upwards to my face and he stared at my expression as if trying to figure out what exactly my motives were.

Jake got up off the bed and walked over to the chair in front of his desk and sprawled himself out naked on it, adopting an especially indecorous posture given his lack of attire. He seemed totally unbothered by the fact he had a very large hard-on, the shaft of which still bore some of the remnants of where it had so recently been, nor that his large pair of bollocks hung down gracelessly between his wide open legs.

He was far more keen to underline his self-righteous sense of magnanimity. "I mean, when I was a kid, you always told me how important it was to share. And some of us are very willing to share, even though you were so blatantly uncaring and unsharing last week!"

"I get the point, Jake," I retorted. "It just felt wrong last week... what you were suggesting with Bradley. Now -- I dunno -- it feels somewhat different."

I smiled at Marcus, hoping my expression didn't look too lustful or predatory, but he continued to look wary and kept his genitals well-protected by cupping them in both hands.

"Yeah, I wonder what could have caused your sudden change of heart," Jake chuckled as he scratched his large, hairy scrotum, and glanced towards at his extremely attractive young friend.

"Would you be happy for me to take up Jake's offer, Marcus?" I asked, hoping to ease his discomfort with a more direct approach. "And offer you a second mouth for your... er... continued pleasures?"

"My dad is, like, the best rimmer ever," Jake bragged, apparently oblivious to his friend's feelings of awkwardness. "He can probably get his tongue all the way up to your liver!"

Marcus looked over at me with even more embarrassment. How did a person respond to such an accolade about your friend's father when he was standing half-aroused in front of you?

"You've really got to get rimmed by him, mate," Jake went on. "He's so much better at it than I am!"

Well, he was right on that point.

"How do you know that, Jake?" Marcus asked with the same obvious unease.

"I saw him rimming a bloke downstairs on the couch one night. His tongue was so far in there, you wouldn't believe it! It was like --"

"Alright, Jake! I think he gets it!"

"You actually rimmed another man in front of your son?" Marcus asked incredulously.

Jesus Christ, he was going to be calling Social Services next.

"Jake has a tendency to interrupt my... er... soirees," I explained. "It wasn't like it was a performance I'd arranged especially for him to see."

I threw a pointed glance at Jake to let him know I was aware that his game tonight had been precisely that.

"But you have sex with other guys?" Marcus attempted to clarify, distractedly taking his hands away from his crotch. His cock had completely withered from its earlier glory and was looking disappointingly shrunken as it flopped against the fair, downy fluff on his balls. It was still rather lovely, though.

"Would it be a problem if I did?" I asked.

"Of course not," Marcus said, with a half-hearted smile. I sat myself down on the bed next to him in the spot Jake had vacated. There was a wet patch on the duvet from where my son's stiffie must have been dribbling as he'd made a pigs-ear of rimming his friend.

"It's just that it came as a bit of a shock when you walked in," he went on. "I knew you were divorced but I didn't realise you were... how would you call it... bisexual?"

I smiled and nodded. "It's a little hobby I discovered about a year ago and which, it seems, Jake has picked up from me."

"So that bloke we were with tonight at the restaurant," Marcus persisted. "The big fella, Guy... you and he are... well...?"

"Like you and Jake," I said with a nod.

Marcus nodded back and spent a moment to think the admission through. His penis, I noticed, was starting to betray its own particular interest in the image that was no doubt flashing through its owner's brain. Without Marcus seeming to be aware of it, it slowly lengthened an inch so alongside his thigh and thickened to regain some of its earlier stature.

"You did make a joke that it was like I was his boyfriend," I reminded him. Once again, I felt the strange tingle at the suggestion that I might be romantically involved with Guy.

"Yeah, it seemed as if you were more than just friends," he observed. "A bit like... well..."

"You and Jake," I smiled, hiding whatever it was I was feeling about Guy.

Marcus smiled back at me and I saw his cock continuing to stiffen and starting its gradual rise upwards from where it had been flopping against his balls. Whatever thoughts he was having about Guy and me, however the two of us men were coupling up together in his clearly vivid imagination, the steady hardening of his organ suggested that he liked the idea.

"Do you actually, like, 'do it' together?" he asked, inattentive to the effect that simply asking the question was having on the size of his manhood.

"And some!" Jake laughed from where he was lounging in his chair. His own organ was still prominently aroused, undeterred by the earlier awkwardness after I'd entered the room, as it no doubt awaited further stimulation in whatever form that might take. "They're at it like a couple of stags all night, mate! When Guy's over, I might as well forget about sleep!"

"Is that right?" Marcus asked me, his face full of surprise.

"Not quite," I chuckled. "I think Jake's exaggerating somewhat."

"But you two guys are having sex together?" Marcus persisted.

"There's a woman called Debbie who I'm dating," I explained, "but I've found that I also enjoy being physical with other men. So, yes, Guy and I have a sexual component to our friendship."

I was fascinated to watch this young man's beautiful penis steadily rising upwards from the thoughts its owner was having about Guy and me. Was he imagining the two of us older men having anal intercourse -- Guy on top, or me on top -- or was he thinking of us working our cocks together, sucking each other off and shooting our semen all over each other's chests?

"That's amazing," he muttered. "It's great you're so open-minded."

"If you'd like me to show you some of the things I enjoy," I went on, "with Jake here, of course, I'd be more than happy to."

Marcus beamed at me and for the first time glanced down at the swelling of his cock, now well on the way to achieving its earlier grandeur.

"I suppose my dick's kind of answering that for me, Mr Furlong."

"Well you can drop the 'Mr Furlong' for a start," I quipped. "If we're going to be getting... er... more friendly, Marcus, I'd prefer it if it was just plain 'Rob'."

He chuckled and agreed to drop the formalities.

I stood up and started unbuttoning my pyjama top. I hoped my body would be appealing to him: in spite of me being a little chubby around the middle and bit hairy between my pecs and on my legs, the squash I played kept my physique reasonably attractive. Since he obviously liked what Jake's body had to offer, he might also enjoy the more mature and cuddlier, filled-out version.

"This is going to be so cool," Jake extolled, clearly relieved that I'd managed to surmount his friend's initial misgivings. He stood up and his erection rose upwards from between his legs as if hoping to get another turn on the tight, blond bum it had earlier enjoyed.

The front of my pyjama bottoms had also recovered their earlier promise and was being pushed upwards and outwards more than ever by what seemed like a third leg inside them. Marcus grinned over at me, apparently pleased that the elder of the Furlong males was apparently just as well-equipped as the younger.

"Are you sure you want to go ahead with this?" I checked before I exposed myself to him. I had a sudden vision of this being some sort of elaborate misunderstanding and having his infuriated father phone me up threatening to call the police.

"God, yeah!" Marcus laughed. "I can't believe you guys are both up for this together. This is, like, totally out of the ballpark!"

I unbuttoned the waistband of my pyjama bottoms and let them fall to the floor to expose my semi-aroused erection looming upright above my huge, pendulous balls. If I'd known I was going to be presented with such an opportunity this evening, I'd have trimmed my pubic bush: apart from that, though, I was very proud of the large set of genitals I was able to present to the astonished gaze of my son's friend.

"You might want to stand over here, Marcus," I suggested, gesturing to the one patch of uncluttered floor in my son's untidy room. "That way the two of us can... well... attend to both sides of you at the same time."

Marcus almost yelped with delight at the prospect of having the two of us, father and son, pleasuring him simultaneously.

He leapt off the bed, calling out, "Wow! You guys just get stuck in... whichever way you like!" Then he stood upright on the spot I'd recommended, as Jake moved forwards to take him up on his invitation, giving his own large erection a few preparatory tugs as if coaxing it back to its full, impressive size.

I kicked my pyjama bottoms to one side and stood before the two of them as naked as they were. Jake grinned over at me -- in all the years we'd lived together, this was the first time we had both been completely undressed and aroused in each other's company. I smiled back and, just as he had, gave my cock a few masturbatory jerks to help myself grow fully hard. He laughed at that -- he liked to see me do it -- and put his hand back on his own to do the same.

Now it was my turn to laugh and I wanked myself a little more for him, yanking my foreskin back and forth just as he was doing. Why did it feel so good to be masturbating with Jake? This was my son standing in front of me and yet -- while I wasn't in any way attracted to him -- it felt so exciting to be facing each other while we rubbed at our erections. Whatever was arousing me, Jake clearly felt it too because he kept leering at me as the gentle tugging which had so amused us at the beginning was cranked up rapidly by us both into a full-on wrist-pounding wank right there in front of each other.

Marcus laughed over at us, amazed by the sight we were making. Our legs were apart and our hips thrust forwards like a couple of cowboys, pointing our erections at each other as we beat them off as fast and as hard as we could.

"Wow!" he chortled. "Look at you guys go!"

Our foreskins were sliding frantically back and forth across our near-identical cock heads, and our scrotums were bobbing around between our legs with our similarly plump bollocks jiggling up and down inside them.

Jake laughed again as we grinned at each other, our hands trying to outdo each other as they pumped up and down our long, thick shafts as if this was a game. "I'll race you, dad!" he called out to me and I was hugely tempted to agree; the two of wanking ourselves off in some childish competition until we climaxed one after the other, right there in front of his friend.

However, I forced myself to stop and say, "Some other time, maybe, Jake," and then took my hand away from my now spectacularly aroused organ. Jake did the same and his stood upright in front of him, almost identical in appearance: it was like looking in the mirror we were so well-matched.

He looked at me, still grinning, and I could tell he was hoping that we would play around again like this sometime soon: not touching each other or getting weird at all; just masturbating together as it was, perhaps, natural for a father and son to occasionally do.

"You guys are funny together," Marcus chuckled. I didn't ask him which meaning of 'funny' he meant.

Jake glanced over at him, standing waiting for our attentions with his cock arching upwards and his arse-crack still wet from the tonguing it had received.

"You've got a very large penis, Mr Furlong," Marcus said brightly. And then corrected himself: "I mean... er... Rob!"

I beamed at him with pride. I always enjoyed it when other men complimented my organ: Debbie seemed to find my over-sized erection at best cumbersome and at worst repellent.

"Do you like it?" I asked, putting my hands on my hips and giving him a little wiggle of it from side to side.

"Very much so," Marcus grinned with a sly flick of his eyebrows. "I like it a lot."

His look told me that he wanted to have more to do with what was between my legs than we'd probably be able to with Jake in the room. He wanted to suck my organ and perhaps even have me fuck him with it, but with the action between us being overseen by his more regular fuck-buddy, for now, at least, he'd likely have to content himself with just looking at it.

For my part, as much as I would have liked nothing better than to have ushered this attractive young man over to the bed and to have penetrated him far more sensually and passionately than my son seemed capable of, I knew that I was very much the invited guest in Jake's bedroom and that I shouldn't to overstep the boundaries which my son imposed on me.

"You do his bum then," Jake ordered me with typical workmanlike brusqueness, "and I'll suck his knob."

I couldn't help but grin at what he'd said. What father hasn't dreamt of hearing is son utter those very words?

I moved around to get behind Marcus and, perhaps seeing my erection looming up on his friend's rounded buttocks, Jake felt it necessary to clarify: "Just... er... rimming, mind, dad. Nothing more."

I was only being allowed a few licks of the candy. Anything more worthwhile was clearly seen as being strictly my son's prerogative.

"I'll give you a few tips on how to rim a guy properly, Jake," I offered. I thought it was quite a nice gesture, offering to share my not inconsiderable skills with my nearest and dearest.

Jake, however, threw me an indifferent shrug, nonchalantly content that his own technique would suffice well enough, and then knelt down in front of Marcus, licking his lips at the erect organ that was almost crying out for a mouth to pleasure it.

After he'd slowly and sumptuously applied his mouth to the first few inches of his friend's organ, I had to admit that my son was indeed a very proficient cock-sucker. Whoever he'd learned the tricks of the trade from, it certainly hadn't been me: I had never come anywhere close to matching his oral artistry and most men I try to pleasure with my mouth soon get frustrated and end up just thrusting in and out, trying to make the best of it they can.

Jake confidently pumped the cock with his lips and tongue, developing a slow, steady rhythm up and down the shaft and focusing on the most sensitive parts of the head. When he saw that I was watching him, his mouth broke into a smile, and I could see he was enjoying showing off to me, working his friend's organ as deftly as he could and using the whole of his mouth to stimulate it fully.

"Oh, yeah," Marcus called out, "that's really nice, mate!"

Jake started using his head more roughly on his friend, taking longer, faster sweeps along the length of his organ and sucking it more forcefully with the back of his throat. He didn't seem tempted, as I would have been if I were in his place, to use his hands to help him service the excited organ more fully: he used all the muscles of his mouth and cheeks to pleasure the whole length of the cock, squeezing it with his lips while he teased the precum from its slit with the tip of his tongue.

Marcus' manhood responded by swelling appreciatively to its full stiffened girth. An entanglement of veins rose up along its impressively hardened shaft and the head of it, only occasionally visible when Jake pulled back from an especially thorough suck, pulsated with a deep purple opulence, the skin of it taut and shiny; slick and streaked with froth from my son's spit.

It suddenly dawned on me why Jake was able to perform such an accomplished blow-job: I had often suspected, from the length of his erection and the flexibility of his back, that my son might be able to reach his own cock with his mouth. Now, from his polished and confident technique, I could see that was very likely to be true: he'd probably been sucking himself off under his duvet for a good many years, honing his skills since his early teens and perfecting his oral mastery of the aroused male member.

Our eyes made contact again and he threw me a cheeky grin with the pounding shaft of his friend's fully charged hard-on between his lips. I smiled back at him, keen to show my admiration of his abilities, as he swept his mouth back and forth, gliding up and down the spit-soaked shaft with his cheeks straining inwards from the pressure he was exerting.

"You little bugger!" I thought. "All those mornings you spent lounging around in bed, telling me you were tired and needed extra sleep -- this was what was going on in your bedroom!"

If only we'd had the open door policy back then.

With an especially elaborate flourish of his tongue and lips, Jake withdrew his mouth from Marcus' cock out and we couldn't help but chuckle at each other. His eyes were full of naughtiness but there was also a flicker of pride thrown in: he'd just demonstrated to his father how to give a guy an exceedingly expert blow-job.

"Come on, then, dad," he said. "Show me what you've got!"

"Watch and learn, Jake. Watch and learn!"

He craned his head to observe me as I homed in on his friend's cute bubble butt.

I pressed my mouth against the crack of his backside -- low down where I guessed his hole would be lurking among the wispy hair between his cheeks -- and gently extended my tongue between his two firm, muscular buttocks. As soon as I eased it into him, I could taste quite strongly the gustatory version of the smell I had enjoyed out in the corridor: his butt-crack was rich with the same seasoned, pungent flavour that the pounding of my son's cock had managed to disperse into such an alluring vapour.

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