Rick Tells Pete Pt. 02

"No offense, Pete, but you're not exactly the outdoors type. Besides, the point of the whole getaway was for me to try to reconnect with Rick. If you recall, he and I had drifted pretty far apart."

"You can say that again. The way you two go at it, I sometimes wonder if you guys even like each other anymore."

"Pete, I understand why you say that but it's not true. Rick's a stubborn son-of-a-gun, and—God knows—so am I. And we butt heads a lot. But that doesn't mean we don't still love each other . . . which is not to say I wouldn't break both his legs if he came through that door right now."

"So it's true then: you did have gay experiences in college."

Mike issues a deep sigh. "Afraid so, bud."

"Well, what I want to know is why you chose to tell Rick and not me. When I came to you in junior high school and told you I was having some pretty intense feelings toward boys: It would have made it a hell of a lot easier if you had told me you had gone through the same thing and had felt those very same feelings."

Mike takes another deep breath. He has been standing uneasily in the middle of the kitchen, but on an impulse he goes to Pete and throws his arms around the boy.

"I'm sorry, Petey boy, but the reason I didn't mention my college experiences is that—and I know this is not what you want to hear—I simply didn't have the same kind of feelings for boys that you had. For you, guys are everything. They fill up your whole world. And that was never true for me—do you understand?"

"I guess so. Rick says you stopped seeing guys when you met Mom. Is that so?"

"Yeah, it is. And I guess that makes the point for me better than anything else I can say. I met the right person for me—who happened to be a girl—and I was able to walk away from other people, guys and girls. But that isn't to say I don't understand a lot of what you're going through. Though I don't have any interest in, shall we say, going down that particular path again, I can still look at a guy and appreciate him in ways I never would have before I had those experiences in college."

Pete looks at his dad, and some of Rick's words dart through his head. "So you do remember what it was like?"

"Are you kidding? There are some things you never forget. For instance, there are times when the girls start going on about some good-looking dude they've seen at the mall or on TV, and so I sneak a look at him too. And doggone if I don't feel a little twinge of something stirring inside—not much, mind you, not like before, but definitely a little twinge of something."

Pete nudges his Dad and gives him a sly look. "Yeah, Dad, it's like riding a bike. You fall off and all you have to do is climb back on and it all comes back to you."

Mike laughs heartily. "Shut up, you little troublemaker, and drink your damn milk!"

Pete also laughs. "Rick says he told you that sometimes he messes around with guys too."

"Yep, he told me. I admit I was plenty shocked to hear it. I mean, I know lots of young men do it, but Rick makes such a show of being a ladies man. But I guess in retrospect I shouldn't've been too shocked. They say the apple never falls very far from the tree."

"Nope, Dad, not very far at all."

"Well, on that note, bud, I think I'm gonna head up to bed."

"Uh, Dad, before you go, I do have one question. It's about that guy you met at the slave auction in college."

Mike groans and slumps forward across the bar. "Oh, Pete, son. Do we really have to talk about that?"

"No, Dad, not if you don't want to. Of course you didn't seem to have much trouble talking to Rick about it, but if you don't want to talk to me . . ."

"All right, Pete. I guess you've got one coming. Go on, hit me with your question."

"I was just wondering what was he like."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, according to Rick, he was the guy who turned you out, the one who made you really want to . . . you know."

"Jesus, Pete. That was an awful long time ago. It was a wild crazy night. There was a lot of liquor flowing and I had way too much to drink. Now, it's all just a blur."

"Just one thing, Dad. Tell me just one thing about him."

"One thing: OK. He had a great smile. I was uptight, nervous, and I recall how he came up to me and smiled this great big megawatt beaming smile. It put me at ease."

"And he was pretty athletic too—right? Rick said he was a jock."

"Yep. Big. Tall. Strong. Well-built."

"Sounds really good-looking. He was, wasn't he, Dad?"

"Yeah, bud, he was. Very."

"I bet he was the type of guy you could really lose yourself with. Was he, Dad? Was he the type of guy you couldn't say no to? No matter what he wanted, you just couldn't say no. Was he like that, Dad?"

Mike's gaze drifts away as he gets a very far away look in his eyes. Pete slips off his stool and edges closer to his father.

"Yeah, bud, I suppose he was."

"You can see him right now, can't you, Dad?"

A hint of a smile lights up Mike's face and he nods yes, a look of quiet reflection in his eyes. He is so lost in thought that he hardly notices when Pete slips in-between his legs, leans in and gives him a light kiss on the lips. Startled, Mike pulls back.

"Pete, what are you doing?" he says, staring at his son, confused.

"I wanted you to not just see him, Dad. I wanted you to feel him too. I wanted you to go all the way back to that night."

"Pete, son, I don't know if that's such a good idea."

But while Mike is confused, uncertain of the feelings swirling through his body, Pete is all smiles, quite pleased with himself. He can see his kiss had the intended effect. Boldly, he lifts his father's chin and kisses him again, this time longer, deeper. Again, Mike reacts and gasps, this time more quietly as the sweetness of the kiss envelops him, a welter of old, warm feelings rising up inside him. He doesn't pull away this time, but allows the kiss to linger until their lips finally separate.

"That was great, Dad."

Mike gets to his feet, the look of uncertainty still on his face now joined by a blush of embarrassment at the fact that he thoroughly enjoyed kissing his own son. He is finding it hard to look at Pete.

"Maybe we should both call it a night, son, and go to bed."

But Pete is hardly in a mood to stop. He boldly steps right into his father's body, slips his arms around the strong broad shoulders and pulls him back into another kiss. Mike seems unable to resist his son and returns the kiss, pulling the boy fully into his body and kissing him with a passionate intensity. Forgetting for an instant that this is his son, he clutches the tall slender boy to his torso and then lets his hands roam the length of his body from the nape of his neck to the curve of his delicious butt. Touching Pete has unleashed a hunger in him he was not even aware was there and he greedily consumes the boy with all his senses. He does, that is, until he opens his eyes, realizes what he is doing and breaks away from his son.

"For God's sake, boy, stop this! Stop it right now!"

"What's wrong, Dad?"

"What's wrong? For crying out loud, Pete. We were just . . . my God, how did I let that happen? I am so sorry, son."

"I'm not, Dad. I loved it."

"You don't know what you're saying."

Pete flashes an impish grin. "Oh, I think I do, Dad. From the moment Rick told me about that time you went gay in college, I knew I was going to do everything I could to make it happen again."

"But why?"

Pete sighs. "I don't know exactly how to explain it. It's like I've always had to share you, Dad. With Mom, Alice, the other kids, even Rick. They've always had their own little piece of you. Everybody but me. There's never really been anything special just between us, Dad, that I didn't have to share—not until now, anyway. Now, finally, here's something just between us."

Mike shakes his head. "Pete, listen to me: This thing here is wrong. Very wrong."

Pete just shrugs and approaches his dad, reaching out, touching his chest. "See, Dad, I know you think that's helping, but actually it's not. Talk like that just turns me on. I know it's pretty perverse but I'm actually attracted to things that are very, very wrong. Taboo-type things. And just so you know, I've secretly had a thing for you for a long time."

Mike sputters. "Is this some kind of joke?"

Pete just shakes his head no and again touches his dad's chest. "Remember back in junior high, how I came to you and told you how I had figured out I was gay because I was attracted to guys? Well, it just so happens the very first guy I was attracted to was you."

Mike sucks a deep breath and takes a step back from his son. "I don't know what to say to that, son. But listen carefully: I am not attracted to you. Not at all. Understand?"

"Sure, Dad. And if that's true, you won't react at all when I do this—"

Pete closes the space between them in a flash, hooks his arms around his dad, and crushes him in another hot, physical, and very intimate kiss. Mike is astonished to see his normally shy son acting so aggressively, and for an instant he doesn't react. But the heat of the kiss quickly overtakes him, and he is soon right back where he was before, seizing the boy, folding him into his surging body, and hungrily devouring his mouth and tongue. This time when they separate, Mike slumps against the counter, a look of utter desolation on his mature, handsome face.

"You win, Pete. I surrender. It's like I'm not in control of my own body anymore."

"You don't have to look so damned unhappy about it."

"People tend to look that way when their world is being turned upside down."

Pete reaches out for his dad. "I think that's just a little bit of guilt talking, and I happen to know a very good cure for that."

Mike grabs his son's hands and angrily pushes them away. "Dammit, boy, will you stop? I don't know what's gotten into you, but I'm putting an end to this right now. . . . And if . . . even if by the wildest chance I was just the slightest bit tempted to see where this might lead, I'm not about to let things get out of hand right here in the middle of the goddamned kitchen."

"Maybe you're right, Dad. Maybe this isn't the right time or place." He abruptly grabs his father's arm and drags him into the hall. When Mike makes an effort to object, Pete gets even more determined and literally shoves his dad into the small library just off the hall that also functions as Mike's study. Before Mike can say anything, the boy pushes the door shut and locks it.

"So, Dad, what about now? Is this the right time and place?"

"Damned little punk," Mike growls and abruptly shoves Pete against the door and covers the boy's mouth with his own. As they kiss, Mike roughly grinds his body into his son, heating them both up with the friction of their bodies. Pete moans and sighs, lustfully clutching his dad to him, and purring with delight at the thought that he finally has what he has wanted for so long.

"Oh, God, Dad, you feel good," the boy croons, feeling the heat of Mike's body burning right through their clothes. Pete slides his hands under hid dad's loose tank and begins fingering the network of muscles in his Mike's strong masculine back.

"Fuck, oh, fuck," Mike grumbles, alternately groaning and growling, clawing and clutching at his son's long smooth body, overwhelmed with a desire he had long since thought dead, and frustrated that he cannot just stop, corral these surging impulses that are drawing him to his beautiful and incredibly sexy son.

"Oh jeez, Dad, I can't believe how good you feel . . . and smell . . ."

Several minutes later with the heat in the room increasing, both Pete and Mike strip off their t-shirts and come back together. The near complete contrast in body types—Mike's hairy, muscular body and Pete's lean, smooth, and almost completely hairless body—provide a further spark as they embrace, as does the stimulation of Mike's rough, close-cropped beard on his son's baby-smooth face.

With Mike still kissing him, Pete slides his fingers over his father's well-defined chest and tweaks his tight dark nipples. Mike is hit by a sudden pang of sensation and flinches visibly.

"Shit!" Mike gasps.

"Sorry, Dad," Pete yelps, jerking his hands away. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

Mike grabs the boy. "No, son, you didn't. It just stung a little—but in a really good way."

With his father encouraging him, Pete again touches his nipples, and then cautiously bends down and takes one in his mouth. And though Mike doesn't jump this time, Pete can still sense a spark of sensation go through him each time he sinks his teeth into the sweet object of his desire.

And if Mike is increasingly unable to resist his son, Pete is no more able to resist his dad, now that he has tasted his body and sniffed his manly scent. The boy sheds his shorts and underwear and pulls his dad to his now fully naked body, thrilling at the electric prod of Mike's growing erection through the soft fabric of his pj bottoms. And then seconds later, the boy reaches down, undoes the string on his dad's pj's, and attempts to push them down. But when his hands prove too shaky to complete the task, Mike takes over and flicks the flannel pajamas down and off.

"Oh God, Dad, you're beautiful," Pete whimpers as he sinks to his knees and begins gently fondling his father's long hard cock. Though in length and form not unlike Rick's cock, Mike's seems deeper and darker in color, and more ridged with veins. And to Pete, it also seems to give off a fuller, richer, more intoxicating scent. He is totally captivated by it and draws it into his mouth, provoking a heavy groan of approval from his dad.

"Jesus," Mike grunts through clenched teeth, resting one hand on Pete's head and using the other to brace himself against the heavy wooden door. Momentarily, he goes a little weak in the knees, as a wave of pure pleasure courses through his body. As Pete sucks, he continues to stroke his father's meat. Meanwhile, Mike begins stroking his son's wavy hair, in time with the rhythmic sucking of the boy.

Shivers go through Pete as he tastes his father's momentous dick. Its heat, its tart sweetness, its thickness and length, are just as he imaged, only more so. The boy glances up at his dad who is leaning against the huge door, his head tilted back, his eyes shut. On his face is a look is such supreme bliss that it sends even more chills through the boy. Pete allows the mighty cock to slide even deeper into his throat, and then watches in fascination as his handsome dad grimaces and then groans with joy.

"Oh, sweet Jesus, Pete, you do that so good . . . It's been a long time since someone made me feel like this. Don't stop, boy. Keep sucking my cock."

As Mike starts to sweat, the rich intoxicating scent of his pubes is released and sinks even deeper into Pete. Already half-drunk on the taste of his dad, the boy lifts the huge daddy-dick, and allows his tongue to trace the outline of the generous balls underneath. He pulls first one and then the other into his mouth and tongues them lovingly, thoroughly enjoying the distinctive feel and taste of these crinkly hairy meatballs on his tongue.

"Ow, careful," Mike suddenly jumps when Pete in his eagerness scrapes the sensitive underside of his ballsac with his teeth.

"Oh jeez, sorry, Dad."

"Boy, come here," Mike groans and pulls his son to his feet. He embraces the boy and then turns and pushes him against the door where he once again covers Pete's mouth with his own.

"Don't apologize, Pete. I can't believe how incredibly happy you're making me. I feel like I'm gonna burst . . ."

"Dad . . ." Pete mumbles as his dad licks and nuzzles his face. "Dad . . . please fuck me."

"Pete, son . . . do you really want me to?"

"More than anything. I feel like I'm gonna burst too."

Moments later Mike lays his son out on the carpeted floor of the study. He runs his palms over the entire length of the boy's long beautiful body, and then gathers up Pete's rock-hard cock and balls in his big hands. As he caresses and squeezes them, the boy moans and squirms, hot pricks of sensation spreading across his skin. But when the man spits in his hands and guides his fingers to his son's delicious ass, Pete jerks and lets out a loud groan.

"Oh, fuck, Dad!"

"I guess you really like that, huh, son?"

"I do when you do it, Dad."

"You're so beautiful. Come on, son, suck my cock."

Even as he continues gently fingering his son's ass, Mike scoots around and brings his thick rod to Pete's lips. He lets out a deep sigh when he feels his son latch onto his truncheon like a baby locking onto a tit. Pete eagerly sucks the juicy dick, all the while groaning and moaning as his dad plunders his sensitive hole.

Once his poker is thoroughly coated in spit, Mike grabs the boy's long legs and pulls him around for the fuck. Instantly Pete can feel the tip of his Dad's formidable mancock settle between his buns. But instead of entering, Mike lets it sit there for a moment and then slides it up and down the slick crevice, teasing the boy's anxious hole. Pete can feel his heart racing with anticipation.

Finally with his eyes squarely on his son's eager face, Mike begins pressing his thick fuckpiece into the tender young channel. Pete reacts instantly.

"Oh, my God, Dad . . ."

"You OK, Pete? Is it too much?"

"Oh, no, Dad," Pete groans, arching his butt to take in even more of the massive cock. "It's big . . . but it feels so fucking good."

Mike forges ahead, sliding deeper into the rosy bud, scared that he is splitting his son apart, and yet so consumed with lust that he could not stop now even is he wanted to. With a flush of heat spreading across his stomach and thighs, he cannot recall ever being so intensely turned on. Finally he lurches forward and plants his rod squarely in the boy's welcoming bumhole. Again Pete reacts.

"Oh, my God . . ."

Both father and son release long sighs of relief, and Mike leans forward and catches his boy's mouth on his own. Even as he kisses his son, he begins moving his anxious fuckpiece inside his boy's hungry hole. The man groans deeply, his rock-hard dick alive with feeling inside the simmering confines of his son's soft round ass.

"Oh, Jesus, Pete, you fell good."

With long even strokes Mike begins fucking his son, pulling almost all the way out before plunging all the way back in, plumbing the depths of Pete's delicious young ass, and showing the boy what it's like to be well used by a strong mature man. And through it all Mike continues to watch his son's face, not wanting to miss a single moment of delight as he fills the boy up with his manly firebrand.

"You OK, Pete. How does it feel?"

"Amazing, Dad," Pete says, grinning and groaning at once.

Mike had all but forgotten what it was like to fuck a young man's ass—the tautness, the tightness, the way it can reach out and grab you like a hot leather glove—but now it all comes flooding back to him and he holds nothing back, pouring a string of hard fiery fuckstrokes deep into his son's welcoming body. The harder he fucks the hotter he gets until his whole body is swimming in a haze of heat. Finally, with waves of lust pricking his skin and streams of sweat beginning to roll off of his brow, he pulls back and then abruptly separates from his son.

"I can't believe how hot you're making me," he gasps, wiping his brow and then pulling the boy to him and kissing him.

"Me too, Dad," Pete murmurs, stroking his dad's warm sweaty body as they kiss. The boy blissfully strokes his Dad's thick muscular body, running his fingers over the smooth curve of his pecs and the hard ridges of his abs. Pete bends forward and licks the mat of sweaty black hair plastered to Mike's chest and again nips at his tits. He moves lower to his stomach, tasting that as well, lapping up the salty tang of sweat streaking his belly.