Dad is an Exhibitionist Ch. 02

Watching my father use the hand that he'd just spit on as a guide, I knew that he was pushing his penis inside of Hank's ass. The younger man put his hands on his knees as though bracing himself and I heard grunts from both of them.

I had dropped forward on my knees and was now stroking vigorously. Through a parting in the brush, I watched while Dad, placing his hands on Hanks' hips, began plunging forward and pulling back.

I heard Hank first begin to moan, then say out loud what sounded like, "Fuck me, oh yeah man, fuck me."

My Dad began riding him hard and even occasionally slapping his ass. Both men were rocking back and forth and, between Hank's moaning and my own breath; the forest seemed to come alive with sounds. I no longer worried about detection as I pounded away on myself, feeling a strange mix of pleasure from what I was watching combined with jealousy of whom I was watching.

Hank was now stroking himself and they both seemed to be having difficulty standing from the force of Dad's pounding. I could even hear the slapping of skin against skin. I was certain that this was something that they had done together before.

I didn't know who came first, me or Hank. I must have given a slight shout as Dad seemed to look my direction just as I felt cream jolting through me. My balls were contracted tight up against my body and I squeezed them with each surge.

Hank had obviously begun coming while he shouted aloud, "Oh yeah, fuck, I'm cuming, fuck!"

About then I heard a sound through my father's gritted teeth as he slammed into Hank with more force than before and causing the younger man to brace his hand against the ground. The pounding continued until Dad tilted his head upwards as a loud groan came from his throat. Then all movement stopped abruptly.

I was spent but was still rubbing and squeezing my dick, still hard and wet with my fluids. My chest was still heaving but my breath had begun to slow. I inhaled deeply through my mouth and watched the men across the pond from me slowly pull apart. Once separated, Hank stood up to begin arching his back in stretching like motions. My father turned and walked to some bushes. After pausing I heard the sounds of him urinating.

Suddenly I became become afraid of detection. Backing cautiously on my hands and knees through the underbrush, my penis grew flaccid and dangled through the fly of my boxers. Wet spots on the fabric stuck to my leg.

As soon as I could hurry my pace away from the pond, I tucked my cock back inside my boxers. Using the moon's position I tried to steer my path towards home. It was easier to detect the trail out of the park than to follow it in.

Arriving at the house after half an hour I was glad to see that I'd beaten my father home. I quickly went to my room and stripped before heading to the shower. Though I didn't hear him come in, when I left the bathroom his bedroom door was closed so I assumed that he'd gotten in and gone to bed. I did the same.

The next morning I was again waken by taps on my door accompanied by, "its 6:30, and time to get up." I heard the front door close before I rose from bed.

Thoughts of what I'd seen the night before busied themselves in my head throughout the day. Thoughts of my experiences with my father at the pond, thoughts of wondering what was going on between the two of them occupied me. I was filled with alternating rage, confusion, and lust. Rage at my father for being with Hank, confusion over our status, and lust from what I had seen.

Everyone else was busy at work reading the new prototype tool when Dad stopped by to say that he'd be leaving early for Houston that afternoon. "What don't you go into town for a burger and movie tonight?" he said as he handed me two twenties. I mumbled that I might while averting my eyes from his look.

"You okay Dave?" he inquired with no suggestion of real concern.

"Yeah, sure I am." Resentment filled me again when he walked away. Resentment filled with anger followed by confusion. I remembered him saying that he hated emotion while at the same time I was nearly overcome by my own.

The day passed uneventfully. Everyone stayed busy in the shop. At one point I caught Hank staring at me. I turned quickly away but felt flushing cross my face.

By four o'clock, Dad had gone to the house then returned with an overnight bag which he placed in his truck. Afterward, he held a brief meeting with Raul. Soon he'd packed up the new tool, said a general good-bye to everyone in the shop, and was on his way.

After work I went to the house and decided to shower before deciding where I would go for dinner. As I stood under the hot spray, images of what I'd seen the night before infiltrated my mind. Recalling the sight of Hank bent over while being fu ked by my father, I massaged my erection with a soapy hand. Squeezing down on my inflated rod I tightened my ass and with my free hand caressed my balls.

In my mind I soon replaced images of Hank with myself, and heard myself mutter through my gritted teeth, "Oh yeah," as the tightening in my lower belly began. I yelled aloud, "Fuck me Dad," when jolts began shooting through me. Oblivious to the spray of hot water over my body I stood stroking even after my ejaculation had exhausted. Feeling depleted I continued washing my body slowly while my skin tingled with every touch.

As I dried afterward, a feeling of resolve came over me. I would no longer be angry or resentful at my Dad. "We're just different," I thought to myself. We are very, very different I now knew.

Driving into town I decided to eat at "Eddie's BBQ Joint" downtown. My Dad and I had eaten there for years whenever I'd visit. The food was good and the old black man who owned place knew me. Arriving, I was soon standing at the counter placing my order for ribs, beans and slaw. Eddie, standing in the kitchen, saw me and waved. I waved back.

The food was as good as I had expected. The ribs, nearly falling from the bone, were tangy and sweet. I sat eating I looked around the room. It was mostly filled with locals, though Eddie's had a state-wide reputation and his place had become a regular drop-in spot for travelers.

At a table near me sat four young men with Dallas written all over them. You'd have to be from Texas to understand that.

As I watched them engaging in talk and laughter one looked my way and smiled. It took a moment for it to register that his smile was intended for me. Though I flushed, a slow smile in response crept across my face. A warm feeling crawled across my belly and faint twitching began in my penis.

As I ate my meal we continued to engage in glances and smiles. The other three apparently noticed his attentions in my direction and they also began to occasionally look over at me. I smiled, they smiled, I looked, they looked, and throughout it all I began to feel pleased with myself for receiving their attentions.

After I finished eating, I stood up at my table and, though I intended to pass by their table on the way to the door, shyness overcame me. I could only nod as I passed.

Once in the car I watched while they returned to conversing among themselves. Still, as I pulled out of the parking lot a feeling of happiness swept through me and I shouted "Yes, yes." They had noticed me and I felt very pleased. I was beginning to find my own way.

Back at home, I sat down in front of the television and began channel surfing. Finally selecting a baseball game, I put my feet up on the coffee table and comfortably settled back for the evening.

By the fifth inning I had begun to nod off when an abrupt knocking at the door snapped me out of sleepiness. "Who the heck," I thought to myself. It was nearly ten o'clock.

Opening the door I could only see the shape of someone when realized that I hadn't turned on the porch light. I said, "Just a minute," while reaching inside to flip on the switch, and then turned to find Hank standing alone.

"Hank?" I remarked.

"Can I come in?" was the only reply.

I stood back opening the door while a grinning Hank stepped uneasily through the threshold. I could smell beer as he passed me.

"How 'ya doing?" he said through his crooked, grinning teeth when I turned back to the room.

"Uh," I began, "okay I guess. What's up?"

"I've been drinking up at Smitty's," came the reply, "and saw your lights on. I thought you might need some company." He stood grinning sheepishly at me.

"Well, I was just watching the game," I mumbled while glancing around, uncertain of why Hank, of all people, would care whether or not I had company.

"Dad's not here," was my answer.

"I know that," he said. Then, as though stricken with a great idea, he said, "Mind if I grab one of your Dad's beers? I'm still thirsty." Without waiting for a reply he turned and went into the kitchen. "Do you want one?" he shouted out when I heard the refrigerator open.

"Sure, why not." Dad had never given me specific permission not to have a beer; but he had not made any comment when I'd taken one before.

Hank came back to the living room holding the two beers, both dripping foam as he walked. "Oops," he laughed looking down at the trail he was making.

Handing me a beer he flopped himself on a chair and asked, "Who's playing?"

"Oakland and New York," I answered.

"I myself don't like baseball," was his response, "too slow. Now football, there's a game. Do you like the Cowboys?"

"I guess." I had never become acclimated to Texans and their obsession with the Cowboys.

We sat placidly staring at the television. I glanced over at Hank to see his eyes watching me as he took a sip from his beer. After turning back to the set I looked back at Hank and said, "What are you looking at?"

He only responded with a snort and glanced toward the set then back at me. "So you're going to college in September." His voice held the shadow of scorn.

"Yeah, looks that way," I said while trying to decipher what he was up to.

"I didn't finish high school," he said as a matter of fact, "after Jenny got knocked up." He shrugged his shoulders and added, "So I had to go to work."

"That must have been rough," while not knowing or caring if it was or wasn't. People like Hank seemed to take things like teenage pregnancy in stride, like the weather.

"Your dad sure helped me out though when nobody else would. He gave me a job before the baby came, so we could get out on our own." Hank continued to stare blankly at the television. "Your dad is a great guy," he finished with a slight nod. "I owe him a lot."

"Yeah, I guess so," I muttered and wondered how he paid him back. Out of the corner of my eye I saw that Hank was still looking at me. I startled when he suddenly rose from his chair only to drop down on the couch next to me.

I must have looked at him quizzically as he said in a flat voice while still staring at the set, "I can't stand watching TV crosswise."

I had turned back to the game in an attempt to concentrate on something other than the tension now between Hank and me when I felt his hand rest gently over my thigh. I gave another start and turned back toward him.

"You about ready for another one?" he asked in a low voice, continuing to stare at the set. I felt a light squeeze on my leg.

"You mean another beer?" I asked in a tremor while my heartbeat increased.

"Yeah, I suppose," there was another squeeze on my leg.

Turning to Hank I asked, "What's going on? What do you want Hank?" Pressure was beginning to fill my pants.

As his hand slid up to cup my crotch he said, "Looks like you pack a pretty big one down there Dave. I guess I'm just wondering about it."

"Wondering what, Hank," I said while glancing down and noticing the swelling in his pants.

"Oh, you know," he said with a smirk.

The engorged shape of my penis showed through the leg of my jeans while his hand moved over to it.

I felt as if I should stop this. I hadn't asked him here and wasn't even sure that I wanted what was happening. I also didn't know if he was serious or just testing me. But the compression of his hand over my cock felt too good to stop. Already warm excitement filled my crotch.

Setting down his beer he leaned over and began to unzip the fly on my jeans. "Let's see what we've got here," he said in a mildly caustic tone. I watched while he reached inside my boxers to begin tugging on my cock.

"Easy," I said. "That's not one of your pipe wrenches. Be easy."

Hank ignored my comments and once he had my dick through the fly he leaned over and placed his mouth on my throbbing erection. I leaned my head back and allowed the warm sensations of his mouth to rise upward into my stomach. .

We stayed seated that way for while, Hank slurping up and down on me, his tongue over my cock head probing the slit, his saliva dripping down my swollen shaft. I could feel my crotch growing wetter.

My fingers wrapped through his hair, it felt slick with grease. My mind went blank and I was only conscious of the feelings he was creating in me. I was glad that I'd shot a load earlier since I felt no urgent need to ejaculate, only to sit back and enjoy the experience.

After a while Hank rose and began tugging on my jeans. "Get these off," he said. I stood while he pulled them down my legs along with my boxers. Kicking off my shoes I lifted one foot at a time while he pulled the clothing all of the way off. At the same time I pulled off my t-shirt and stood naked.

Hank stood looking at me before he began removing his own clothes. "Yep," he said, "you've grown up to be a good looking man and you've sure got a big one down there." With that he stroked my piece before getting himself undressed.

"Just like my dad?" I had to ask. I heard no response from him..

Once undressed, he turned away from me and reached his hand back to grab my swollen cock. "How'd you like to get some of what ole Hank's got back there?"

I said nothing and he turned to began rubbing my cock. "You got something to put on this?" he asked. "No," I answered.

"I know where your dad keeps his rubbers," he said turning to go down the hall. "I'll get one."

"He knows where Dad keeps his condoms," I thought to myself. That realization had no impact on me. My anticipation was all on "...seeing what ole' Hank has back there."

Hank returned gripping the small package in his mouth and tearing it open. Dropping the wrapping to the floor he was back facing me and I felt his hand go over my throbbing cock. Glancing down I watched as he rolled the latex down over my shaft. "There," he said, "that'll do. He then spat in his hand and reached back to rub himself between his cheeks.

He turned, bent over and backed toward me. "Put it in," he nearly commanded.

Uncertain, I gripped my shaft while probing around for an opening. The condom was lubricated and felt moist between his cheeks. Hank reached back to guide me and I heard him say, "There," as my head probed down into the hole.

I hadn't expected to feel suction when Hank backed toward me taking in my cock, but I did. Warmth enveloped my latex-clad erection. I heard Hank give a groan when he pushed his rear into my crotch. With his skin flush against mine, I was buried deep inside of him.

It was as though sound had suddenly been turned on when I started fucking him. I hadn't realized it had gotten so quiet when he arrived. Suddenly I heard the television, his loud breathing and moans, and my own halting breath while I began plowing back and forth with my hips. I remembered the scene at the pond and slapped his butt just the way my father had done.

"Do you like this cock, Hank," I heard myself snarl. "Do you like getting fucked by this big cock? Is it just like my fathers?" I yelled.

"Yeah," he replied through his gasping breath. "Fuck me big boy, fuck Hank."

And I did fuck him. I leaned him over the couch and nailed him from behind. Then I turned him with his hands and knees on the coffee table and continued pounding. Through out it all he cried aloud, he entreated me with "Harder, harder." I yelled out obscenities as they seemed to pop from nowhere into my racing brain. We were both covered in sweat and breathing hard by now and I saw Hank began to stroke on himself.

On the TV, the owner of a local car dealership ranted about bargains on his trucks and cars while I pounded away. The tension inside of my groin rose like the tightening of a wire.

Hank began yelling that he was coming when I felt my own juice ready to surge out of me. We both were yelling out senselessly when, like a missile, my ejaculation pumped from inside of me. It seemed to sing through my body and then my shaft.

I slowed from pounding him to a rolling motion and squeezed down to force out everything that was in me. My rolling switched to rocking back and forth as my hands gripped on his hips; slowly my erection began to soften. With the soft flesh of his ass pressed against me, my cock lessened and slid from the grip of his hole with a slight "whoosh."

Hank remained bent over the coffee table while I pulled back and looked down at myself. The condom gathered wrinkled around my cock and the tip filled with my white cream swung downward.

As Hank stood up I saw that he'd come all over the coffee table. He turned to me blinking and said, "Man that was good. You must have done that a lot."

Looking down while I gripped the condom to pull it off, I laughed and said, "No, it was my first time."

"Really?" he answered in genuine surprise. "I didn't know," was all he said while he began gathering his clothes.

I walked into the kitchen to dispose of the condom in the trash. When I returned he had already dressed and was standing by the door and gripping his can of beer. "Hey," he said with a small wave of his hand, "I'll be seeing ya." He left with as little fanfare as he had arrived.

Later, alone in my bed, my mind pondered the changes in my life in just the past few days. It seemed preposterous that I could have gone in such a short while from a mindset of naiveté and inexperience to one where I could contemplate my role in the vast world of sex.

Dad returned the next afternoon from Houston with the news that he'd gotten the contract for the drilling tool and delivery needed to begin in six weeks. In all total, he had a contract for one thousand tools over four months with an option to provide another one thousand by Easter. We seldom spoke as he scurried around the shop holding meetings with Raul about supplies, some new equipment he needed, and bringing on a few more employees.

By the afternoon Hank and I were told to relocate some of the existing presses and other items to make room for more equipment. We hadn't spoken since the night before when we started our chore. After struggling to move a particularly heavy piece of equipment I was standing catching my breath when Hank leaned over and began to whisper.

"There's a bar outside of ...," and he mentioned a town which was about an hour away. He told me that he thought I might find it worth my visit. He was precise about the location, one mile east of the town on a state highway. I mumbled "Thanks" as I committed the address and name, "Miss Kitty's," to memory.