A New Family Tradition

Okay, the guys are back, lustier than last time, happier with what they've got and what they're doing. As I've said, the sex, and there's quite a lot of it, isn't all that gee whizz original but it's the sort that makes most guys real happy.

I'm enjoying writing about these men so, if you also like them, let me know. Thanks!

Another morning. Going to be hot out which meant Dad had already had another of his forever fights with one of our window air conditioners. ( Two out of three falls, no clear winner ) Good thing we were casual nudists when at home meaning that the kitchen, notorious for getting warm, or hot if we turned on the oven for heat as we did in Winter, was pleasant and still dim just before dawn. Good cross breeze through a couple of opened windows which cooled the sweat from us as we indulged in a favorite father/son position for sex; He sat down, got his daddy meat really hard and up then I sat backwards-facing him-on his lap, his cock up my ass, my one arm around his neck while the hand on the other gave his nipple a good, hard twisting. He held me to him, catching my arm between us as his strong hands massaged low down, his son’s ass, my ass kneading it like human dough, spreading me, making me accept his ramrod even deeper. I was prepped, waiting, oh shit how I was waiting, to feel his warm sauce flow into me, coat my walnut of pleasure, feel his body collapse in ecstasy, enjoying what was surging into me, which, once, was part of what had made me what I am, his son, from the man I love...wishing I could give him another me….I teared up as I kissed his neck, mumbling that I loved him. Oh holy fuck did I love him. If the world ended just then….

We don’t think about time when we’re fucking cuz we’re so wrapped in each other. I would have lived with his perfectly proportioned cock in me all day, all night, pulsing, as it did, alternately forcing his cream out or holding it back. When my chin was completely over his shoulder, when he could feel my tears of pleasure run down then his spine, he’d gently mark the side of my neck with his teeth….nothing that lasted but, for that next bit of time, someone who saw me, whether they knew who I was or not, could clearly notice that some one had put a mark of love for the bearer as well as a warning to anyone who thought to want me that I was taken. Permanently.

“Pat.” I could feel his whole body start to move.

“Um?”

“Gotta get to work…..”

“Call in sick...”

He kissed me. “That’s not a very good excuse.”

“Let me call them, I’m a terrific liar….even do voices….”

I could her his low, chortle but my abilities to sling a falsie didn’t stop him.

He kissed me again with his arms now around my waist as he started to stand up, making his sperm greased stick slide out of my butt. Almost worked; I hung onto him, looking like a muscular lei around his neck. Just didn’t want to hear ‘Aloha’.

“Pat”...I heard the kind fatherly voice of authority…. “No work, no money….”.

“I got a job, several of ‘em...just work extra hours, keep you in bed….or however you want, full time….’sides, that’s a dumb job you got.” (He was a supervisor at a place that made plastic things-currently, I was told this-they were constructing ’impellers’ for washing machines. But their go to product was….fly swatters. Had some jerk, got himself a degree in something or other, who did nothing but think up new designs for the shapes of them. He shoulda asked me, make one like a rolled up newspaper, worked around here.)

He was smiling. “Yeah, you do….’spose, if I didn’t do it too, might not like my kid selling his ass.”

“ Maybe we could pay each other, never have to go out to work….”

He had a quiet happy laugh. “Won’t work that way...c’mon, lets head for the shower, gotta get me cleaned outta you…..don’t want you to tell a client that you’re using your Dad’s cum to lube him, might not like that…..”

“I don’ know, one look at you….they might all want your man milk to smooth my tail...ever think of that?” He smiled, kissed me on my nose but….I could tell we were into the day.

In the shower, as pay back for what we’d done, he sucked me off. Told me that was to make some customer really work to get the good stuff….took a heft of my balls…. “Yep, I think I got ‘em emptied…..”. He kissed the tip of my cock. “Thought I saw one bit of...something. Whatever, mighty tasty….but then….you always are.” Out of the shower he wrapped me in the huge towels we both liked. Had a side business in them over at two of the other places I worked. For the saloon, we knocked them down for a hundred, “Far and Away”embroidered on them. For my private place, same size but white with white lettering that only said, “Pat’s Place”. The two ‘P’s being shaped sort of like hard cocks if you looked at ‘em just right. Each ‘P’ seemed to have a ring at the top making the swirl out from the upright. Anyone wanted to know if art was imitating reality, well, they just had to pay to find out. The answer was ‘no’ but, hey, finding out got me a hundred dollar bill, while they got jerked off. (“Nothing for nothing and damn little for a dollar.: Ought to have that on a poster on my wall….give one to Dad to put in his bedroom….not that he did much business at home. Maybe have it tatted on my ass...that’d get some laughs.)

My job, okay, jobs. For all the outside world, I worked for Burp who owned the Far and Away Saloon at least that’s where I worked…. some of the time. Those who knew better, and liked it that way, had a lot of friends there, some customers, some guys just willing to give referrals. (If they were hanging around, slow afternoon, I’d get down, give them a blow job, my way of thanking them and, hey, so what if they’re straight; Getting your head jacked off feels good to any man….) Most also knew I kept a place at a motel that I rented on the long term basis. Only reason I even took that was because it was cleaner than a hospital, didn’t take street walkers, (I didn’t count) plus the unit I had was not only at the end, hard by the railroad tracks, but had a back door. Not every one wants to be seen coming and going so, by arrangement, if I had nervous-but hot-client, they swung around the place then, by cutting up a couple of hundred yards then down an alley, got them into ‘employee parking’ for several places-their car fit in, nobody noticed. There’s the back door-one with an electric code which I changed quite often-and inside, me, ready for action; Sometimes I parked my Speedo covered ass out front by the pool, for the truly nervous, they’d show up by the pool, theoretically meet me, then, hell, I don’t know, I’d take him into my room as the shower was better or I had something to show him….pick the one that calmed him the most. Once that door shut, that’s when I proved why I got what I charged; My clients then learned that imagination and sex make a fucking great combination. One even asked me if I had any morals? Was there anything I wouldn’t do for money? Listen, Jack, you’re paying me big time, got a wedding ring on your finger, I know your real name, where you live, saw the picture of the wife and kids….(Had learned how to pick pockets….knowing more about their clients then they know about you can be real helpful.) So...do you really want to know if I got morals? What wouldn’t I do? Well, shit for brains, you wanta crash course right now in what I will do, just wonder if you will like it?

The moment small balls see the cuffs in my hand or something….they don’t know what it does, that question about what I/we/they would do don’t mean a fucking thing. Some of them even develop a taste for things they were, once, too afraid to even read porno stories about much less do. (I’m thinking of one guy who liked me to drink a couple of liters of water, tie him in the shower and give him a real long drink of piss. Didn’t know he could even think about that… a long time back. Always wondered if he gave a truly ugly wife a gallon if she’d know what to do?)

The ‘motel apartment’ was, as were many things in my life, a father/son deal, it just didn’t start that way. Dad had a boyfriend…..well, sweet Jesus, he’d hate it if he knew I called him that….he was a ‘very close friend’, you know the guy you go to games with on the weekend.’ Not to mention the other games played when the field was empty but the two of them were not. Why all this crap that needed a room with no view but a back door? Well, Tim, Dad’s ‘buddy’ was a detective for the local PD, a ten year veteran of their homicide squad. (They’d met when Dad reported Mom as a missing person which turned into a homicide which got Franky, Dad’s best friend, arrested for murdering her. Accidentally.)

Thereafter Tim took to ‘dropping by’ just to see how his ‘junior detective’, me, was doing. A better question as the years and his dropping in went by might have been who was I doing but...that wasn’t something he knew up front. It took three fucking years for him to get around to asking Dad to go to a ball game. Out in public, move along folks, nothing to see here….By then, well, really since I was about 12, I was one of the guys at the saloon or the casino or the crap game cuz Dad took me. I could sit in at Poker if someone wanted to take a leak, make ten the hard way, not to mention making them hard for a “10” on the male scale.

See, my Dad and I had been fucking each other, plus about anything else you can think of since….I was, well, old enough and we’ll leave it there. Give you an example of how well taught he had me; I’m Maybe 15? Some guy at the bar came on to me, said he’d like to teach me something I might like to know how to do. Okay, got the picture? He’s about as subtle as Gonorrhea , there are men around who know how I score and also know I could probably teach him but, hey, this has ‘let Pat play the sucker’ scrawled all over it so everyone just sat, nursed their beer and listened real close. The fool hasn’t noticed it’s real quiet, he’s the center of attention, everyone wants to see what will happen next and they know it will. I’m a smart ass, so they got a pretty good idea the roof is about to fall on this turkey...but lets see how it’s gonna play out.

“You ever been given a real mouth full of prime man juice...Kid?”

Calling me a ‘kid’ was a real big mistake. Slim and Joe, at the table next to him, knew the score, knew me and knew…..he’d just signed on the dotted line for something. I was a lot of things but a “KID” I ain’t. Just to be safe they shifted their table back a little.

I gotta say it, I can look so innocent you’d think I was either a Boy Scout or studying to be a priest. “Man juice, Sir?”

“Yeah, comes outta this poker I got hid down here. Wanta see it? Come on, sit on my lap, Kid. You’ll get a real good feeling.” I heard a couple of other chairs shift just enough….

I looked like I was thinking. “Well, Sir,” I gulped, “guess if you wanta show me then….I wanna see it. Don’t I?” (He’s involved in his own spiel, does not notice that my low riders now have the barn door open, if you looked, which he didn’t, you’d see a small piece of leather that could barely hold back my “Kid’s” cock from being pushed aside.

We paused while he figured out how to get the most out of me not realizing he already had; It was about to hang mine right in front of his nose.

What the hell, let him play for a minute, grabbed his hand, wrapped it around my pole-he’s going into shock-finds it’s stiff, ready to go. “Your man juice anything like this. SIR?”

I’m being respectful which further puzzles him. What he can see, in his hand, is my rifle barrel pointed at him. In fact, it’s so close to his face that to see the piss slit as one opening he’d have to cross his eyes.

Now, right there I’ve quit giving a flying fuck about this fool, I got my guys around me so they’re the ones who are enjoying this. It’s why I’m popular, it’s why I’m known as a smart ass, it’s why they know I’m on their side good, bad or indifferent, as they’re on mine. They don’t know quite what I’m going to do but that I’m going to do something...hey, it’s a given. Just to give me some help, they’ve started tapping beer mugs on the table. Oh, and they also know what I’ll do for cash.

“Open wide.” Which he doesn’t so the first blast from my personal hydrant blows all over his face. His mouth comes open, not because he’s into drinking piss but because that’s how he’s gonna try and stop the fountain in his hand. I’ve got better to do so this gets shut down real quick. Couple of the guys pick up his chair, with him, soaked with piss, he gets 86’ed out the back door, by the trash. Oh, yeah, each of the guys has a mug full of beer so that gets dumped on him. There’s applause, I thank them, say there’s a round on the house…..it all settles as fast as it started.

(Oh, he got it wrong, I wasn’t 15, more like 16...but that’s the sort of detail he won’t care about. Also, from his short stop with us, while I really don’t think he’d come back, I do wonder if he’d try and jump me at some point. Those pants may ride low and fit me real close but there’s something else in there with a hole in it, a 9mm courtesy a cop friend of my Dad’s.)

In fact that cop was another reason I had my ‘other’ place of business. I gave up trying to figure out where on the scale of real affection Tim and Dad were, but what I did know was that increasingly I was changing sheets on our bed while I ‘worked’ at my other place. The simple answer to this was to ‘suggest’ to Dad that he and Tim, who was hinky about being seen too much with Dad in ‘situations that could look suspicious’, use the semi-apartment at the motel. Tim could park in back, Dad could park in front and...I’d show them where my ‘special’ toys were, how to rig some of them then left what they finally decided to do to and with each other up to them. Just, please, change the sheets. Don’t know why, it’s just one of those things I don’t like to do. Both liked this idea, particular Tim.

I must have had fifteen sets of sheets, all really good cotton, lots of pillow, slips, some specialty things like leather or rubber bed coverings. You spot a problem? There is no way in holy hell am I gonna spend what little spare time I have doing laundry. Don’t mind making a bed, watching a naked guy do that, letting his paying friend, like the sperm from the percale could be a nice end to being bedded. BUT I don’t do laundry. Another reason I chose this sort of motel; They’d do as much laundry as I used….including the towels from the shower. (Okay, to be fair, they had, as all places like this do, a laundry service. I paid them a pretty low fee per week; they went out dirty, came back fresh. In my business, taking a guy to someplace clean is an immediate clue that this is on the up and up. Also he’s been given a reference….but then...so have I about him which is partly I know what to charge for my services. Wearing old 501’s and boots does not mean they can’t afford the Cadillac of sex….which they get and pay for.)

Thought nothing about it for, maybe, a couple of months until one day on the edge of winter I let myself in, found it dark, wondered why but not for long. A pair of arms that had never been around me suddenly were, a voice, one I did know, whispered in my ear. “Ya, know, as sons go, you’re about the best.”

I wondered where or how far this might go.

“Thanks….gotta say as cops go I think you’re pretty swell, least from what I can tell by reports from the man I sleep with now and again….who cannot shut up about you.”

“Here, slip out of that coat….” He was pleased to know that his name got brought up. Anyone who knew us could be forgiven if they thought our lives were wholly about each other, no strangers admitted.

“Dad give you the code?”

“You don’t mind?’

“Hell, depending on your point of view, you’re damn near part of the family….want me to call you Dad 2 or Uncle Tim…?” I smiled at him.

He tried to answer but it got stalled.

“This a social call or you here for some reason other than to….”

He was about to have a case of ‘shy’, odd for a cop-I’d seen film of him on the news kicking down doors. Looked like fun, didn’t look shy.

That shy, shit eating grin some men get; “Your Dad talks a lot about you, too. Guess you make him as happy as, well, anything.”

“Glad to hear it, I try my best...”

“Yeah….Pat….” He was gonna get there if I had to drag it out of his mouth for him. “I know showing up like this isn’t real, well, I don’t know.”

“I do. And, Tim….” I took him in my arms then kissed him. “See, I kinda like our family cop myself so...since you just happen to be here, it’d be my pleasure if you let me take you over to that real comfortable bed, just let happen what you want to happen. Deal?”

His looked down. “Yeah, something like that.”

“Good” With that I picked him, carried him the few steps to the bed, dropped him on it, gave him a real big Paul’s son smile, “Cuz I want to get to know you real good. You may have heard, I’ve got a profession that deals in making men feel real good but when it’s a man you like, want him to like you, well…..when we’re in the shower in a little while, maybe you can talk about it.”

He was tearing up as I removed his clothes.

Sex with your father’s boyfriend can be cheating or a great experience. That Dad knew he was here with me was a foregone conclusion-he’d given him the code to get in the back door. All stripped, laid out, I could see him pay close attention as I stood by the bed, removed my clothes then join him. Best thing, isn’t done enough, the old fashioned make out. You get comfortable and, after all, it’s purpose is to go further which is what happened. I wanted this to be an experience he’d like, wanted this to be an event with a man he’d enjoy so it was up to me to lead him wherever I sensed he wanted to go. That’s where making out is a real help. Once you get involved with that, your hands wander, playing the other body, rubbing it, feeling it, finding out how it responds with the ultimate goal of gently fondling what is, hopefully, a hardening cock. He was on his back so I could use my weight, I wasn’t on him, but more diagonally across his chest, keeping him in a position that didn’t let him move much but wasn’t too binding. The first time I held his cock, he jerked, slightly, but almost immediately sighed as I began to gently move my hand up and down, not quite jacking him off, but headed there if that’s what I wanted; It wasn’t.

“Pat?”

“Um?”

“You can do anything to me you want….”

“I am. I’m kissing you, rubbing your body...oh, I’m also playing with your cock...hold on…..okay, now I’ve got your ball bag all safely in my hand….feel me? I want you to want me cuz I sure as hell want you.”

He forced out a question. “You gonna...you know, fuck me?”

I looked in his face, gave him a real good kiss, kept getting him hard…

“Uh uh, you’re going to fuck me….I want you to breed me just like my Dad does, I want your sperm in me, I want my ass to eat your cum, I want us to be kinda like another father and son. Tim, that’s what I want...you don’t have a boy to use like your buddy, my Dad, does so...now you do.”

He didn’t say anything, just lay there, getting hard so he could mount me like a stallion, like I wanted him to do...then slowly, he began to move his body so I was left with my chest on the bed, my ass up top with him hovering over me like a butcher trying to pick the best cut of meat.

“Lube it?”

“Just go in….all the way, take me hard and deep….show me I’m your boy, your my man, you’re gonna fuck the hell out of me, gnaw on my shoulder, reach under me, twist my tits, make me hurt….like you said to me...anything you want to do to me….don’t ask, just do it.”

Dad had him trained real good; No matter what I encouraged him to do, he was a kind, patient lover who wanted both of us to enjoy this first time with me. His entry was slow, felt good, he had the sort of cock made to go into an ass, slightly curved, not only hard but with big veins on the outside, I could feel them pulse as he got more and more aroused. There comes a time when you’re fucking a man, happens to everyone, you forget them cuz it feels so damn good. Back up in you, those places only a man feels light up, start force your cum out, makes you drive yourself to get it out, Jesus, just shoot, get that gizz up there, hear the groans of the man you’re forcing to let you fuck deeper, longer harder...make him know he’s yours and you’re loving the shit out of fucking him….

His hands were underneath me, my nipples were being tortured making my cock hard, ready, wild to lose my load, give it up, almost too painful to hold it in. I can feel him, trying to hold back, deep inside me, his low rumblings, like an animal breeding, he didn’t care I was his, he was proving that. With a sudden gasp it came forth, he collapsed while inside me I was bred, I was now his man like I was my Dad’s man….we were joined by a gooey stripe of male fuck ribbon from him to Dad to me….Yeah, Tim, yeah, punch me out one last time, give me that left over drool that’s always in there….fill me until your cum bubbles out by your dick, ready for you to pull out, eat what you seasoned me with, lick it up….enjoy your own juice like I like having it in me…..

He rolled me over, put his mouth over mine, fed me his sauce that could make men but now was only for me to taste him. Delivered in a kiss….his eyes closed...he slid down my torso caught my stalk in his mouth, licked it, licked around my crotch; he was on a scavenger hunt with just one thing to find, what I shot….back up to me, holding me, kissing me, relaxing….his body pressing mine, one hard nipple pushing into my chest…

“Thank you, Pat, oh, Sweet Jesus, thank you….only you and your dad ever gave yourselves completely...I can feel you, like him…..Oh, yeah, Pat, sure, as hell I want to be your other fucking dad….

Hearing that I smiled, kissed him knowing now we were a family of men, fertile men, men whose lives were about taking each other because it took fucking to put the final period on the sentence, “I love you….”

A couple of hours later we were still laying there, saying little, enjoying the closeness, being two men together with no regrets. He had no questions, my body had answered anything he wanted to know. This was the first, this was establishing that, yeah, we were all together….the steps in the future, what we’d teach him to do... Now he’d wanna learn.

It was late. “Spend the night with me….sleep with me, shower with me now, then...come back and just be together until we have to sleep….I wanna sleep with you….”

He said nothing but in the light of one small bulb I could see him smile, watch him stretch then return to take me in his arms to hold me as he would his son.

I liked having a second ‘dad’, specially this one. Something I noticed, he was comfortable sleeping with me….doesn’t always work that way but, maybe, like father like son and deep inside me I carried a piece of him that would fade into me, he would become part of me just as eventually, I would become part of him. He was asleep the last time I kissed him….dreaming, I hoped, of a new man that he would come to love as much as he loved his father.

When I walked in Burp, who knew me and my habits pretty well, slapped my tail, saying only that this must have been special. Usually he couldn’t tell what I’d done but today, “Buddy, you took it up the ass big time.”

“Yep, I did...hope to rope in that cowboy for another rodeo.”

“High praise….bet it didn’t cost him a dime, did it?”

“Nope, you know me Burp, I’m a very generous SOB, how many guys have I taken back to the shower just because they looked tired, beat up, lonely….needed something..turned out, it was me.”

He smiled. “Yep, that you do….gets me more return business than a dollar beer night….If I could get a full time shower boy, wow….”.

“I could get you one I bet but….there’s what I do and what some guy armed with soap, shampoo, some scrub and no idea what to do besides pretend he’s a washing machine…..” I stopped, thought about something, looked at Burp.

“How long have I been around here?”

He shrugged. “Coons age...you were almost a kid the first time what are you now? 22, 23?”

“Not my point. You ever use those showers? No. I never took you back there, gave you the full treatment but you’ve been selling it so….”

I could see a trembling worry come over him. “Pat, no, I really don’t think, no, uhm uhm, I got a shower at home this morning….”

One thing about being strong and fairly good sized, you can pick ‘em up and take ‘em with you.

Wasn’t anybody in the saloon right then otherwise they’d have heard….”Oh, Pat, no, please, Oh Je…..”. And that’s where the door slammed on the way to the locker room.

First thing was to strip him naked below the water line, that way he wasn’t going to make a dash to get out. Gotta tell you, I was loving this, Burp really was a good buddy to me so beyond his not wanting to do it, this was something I wanted to do for him...plus there was a profit motive; A helluva lot easier to talk up a service then sell what you’ve done yourself. Or, like today, had done to you.

Grabbed the stool, finished peeling him, turned on the water then, from the shelf where I kept all my supplies….a set of hard plastic cuffs. These weren’t for kids, (got ‘em from a cop..) they were plastic so in all the water they wouldn’t corrode. Well, corrode is what Burp did when I snapped them on him, good cop way, palms out, behind his back.

His T shirt, which per usual, just had the name of the bar on it, got ripped off just before I grabbed the cord which I used to tie his feet to the legs of the stool. While I got naked myself, I turned on the water from two spigots aimed at the place I wanted my buddy. He’s not being quiet which earned him something else from the shelf, a gag. Okay, we’re ready to roll.

Typical way is to just take a bottle of body wash with shampoo then dump it over their head, as it runs down, leaves a nice coating for me to work into lather. The aim of the drill is to get as close to Frosty the snowman then work that in. Rinse and repeat. By that point, at least with my clients, and they’re not cuffed, they’re not quite moaning with relaxed pleasure, I’ve given their cocks a preview, as well as a scrubbing, of what lies ahead. Same for Burp who, I gotta say, is finally getting with the program. The second rinse with the moistener afterwards, deeply massaged in, had him. Knew it would. One more thing. See, I have a ‘thing’ about blowing guys who are overly furry, some is fine but when I’ve got to reach into the jungle to pull out the tube snake, it’s too much. Burp had too much. I couldn’t see his face when he heard the brrrrrr when clippers clicked on but, considering I’d almost curried his crotch, he probably had a pretty good idea as to what was going to happen next. He was right.

Looked a lot better, turned out that, once his sack was cleared, he actually had low hangers, a pair to be proud of. Got to work on the main event, cut in a good looking treasure trail and since I was already moving North, trimmed his whole chest giving his nipples a flesh surround to highlight them. Looked terrific a fact he couldn’t see but he knew was happening.

It was an interruption but, fact is, worked out to my advantage, when the guy who hooked up the beer came looking for us. I liked his first word, “WOW” and then “Burp, you look really bitchin’”. Don’t know his name but...asked him if he was on a tight schedule, I was about through with Burp, just like a barber shop, he could be ‘Next’, an offer he accepted, said he’d be back after he got the kegs in and operating.

Time for the unveiling. Gotta say, he liked it. ‘Course, he was seeing himself in the full length mirror while I sucked him off, my treat for being a good sport also a super boss. See having worked on a guys goodies during the shower, they’re prime so no dicking around to get them up and ready; They already are.

Released I could see the smile on his face.

“Now, idiot, sorry you haven’t done that before? Hell, it’s available to you 24/7.”

He goosed me while saying, “Yeah, but the main attraction isn’t.”

“Just ask for me, I can bet you’ll get an employee discount. Now, scoot, get yourself another shirt, I’m about to negotiate a discount on beer….” and winked at him.

Shaking his head he just said, “And I bet you’ll get it, too….Thanks, Pat.”

Jerry, the beer guy, and I had a real good time. Not as good a time as he’d like to have but….son of a bitch….you know those delivery guys, how they get around town? Seems he knew right where my other business office in the motel was….gave him a phone number, told him I didn’t need any beer but if he needed some servicing when he got off work? Well, give me a ring. Or, if I was busy at the saloon, bring a suit, sit by the pool, I’d be along...Said he’d see me real soon and, oh, what else did I do?

Something in that question just lingered in my mind. I’d done a lot, nothing that anyone had wanted to do had I backed down on so...what else did-or would-I do? That was a Dad night-Tim was on a stake out somewhere he said they didn’t even think their target was there but that was orders….I offered to ride along, provide entertainment if things got dull….he reminded me he had a partner. Told him, okay, I’d find someone for him, too. Jesus I loved it when Tim, big strong cop, blushed. Just to put it over the top, said why not take Dad for him, I could do the partner?..Guess they wanted to be alone and bored so Dad and I had the evening to ourselves when I got home from work.

Talks with your father are the best. Nothing too dumb, even when you’re grown up, like I was, there was still something special...like this night when I had a question. Been stuck in my mind, what the beer guy asked me, what wouldn’t I do or what hadn’t I done? Kinda the same thing. That’s what I asked Dad. His answer was that what you wouldn’t do was...something you didn’t want to do, simple. Okay but...what if you’re offered money to do it even if it’s not something you ever thought about doing? Then what?

All he could say was that he guessed it would depend then on what it was, how much was on the table...decide Yea! or nay...I couldn’t put it down. What wouldn’t he do for...ten thousand dollars?

“Pat, what does someone want me to do for ten grand? Can’t answer that without knowing what it is.”

He had a point.

“Okay, what wouldn’t you do, no matter the money, millions…..”

“Lose my wisenheimer kid who asks too many questions. I’d never lose him.”

That stopped me cuz….for no amount of money would I lose my Dad….still...what hadn’t I done that for money I’d do? Snuggled up to him, thought about it….no answer. Yet.

It became the question from hell, what wouldn’t I do for any amount of money? Asked the guys at the saloon and got, should have expected some of them, answers that I shoulda known I’d get. Cut off my balls, marry her again (real popular), marry anybody, join the Army, do a stretch in prison, get a tat, get pierced….all of them ‘guy’ sorta answers. Fuck, I’d agree with most of them myself, except the one about her cuz it was pretty clear I wasn’t gonna marry anybody…. Not even if they had a cock.

One of them did kinda eat into me, the one about never getting married because, well, my Dad had been married. Once. Okay, it didn’t end happily, more like it just ended. He thought she’d left him, as an alky, she was sometimes doing 90 days for being drunk in public but he didn’t know it cuz she was in the slammer somewhere out of town and how she got there….? All I could remember about her wasn’t much, out cold, sliding onto the floor when she couldn’t keep a chair under her ...not good memories for a kid. When it turned out Dad’s best friend, Franky, had murdered her he was real sorry to lose Franky but her? By the time we even knew it had happened, fuck, hadn’t seen her for six, seven years. But...Dad had been married so I told him, a lot of the guys said they’d never get married...He stopped me before I could even ask. Kissed me on the forehead, held me close to him, whispered in my ear that….he’d marry anybody if they could just give him...me. Oh.

Jerry was in and out fairly often-the saloon sold a lot of suds. He’d usually ask me if I had time to give him a shower which I usually didn’t. Would’ve liked to but...my giving showers to guys had a lot to do with their hanging around the bar so if they asked, I could figure out when over the next little while I’d have the time. See, I liked washing guys, getting them hard, sucking them off, getting blown but I also liked having the time to do it good, specially if they paid me which most of them did. No secret, working in a saloon doesn’t get you top dollar so the extra I made with shower money was better than a tip. My other job? Working out of the motel room I had on a long term? Well, guess you could say that was business, real money there but, usually, not nearly as much fun as horsing around with the guys at the saloon in or out of the shower….like the time we had a water balloon fight….we all ended up in the shower that day cuz tossing water balloons turned to throwing whatever was food, Jesus was it messy and fun.

I got to like Jerry, good looking cuss and, I guess, hauling 140 pounds of beer kegs, you better get big arms, shoulders, fuck, your whole torso which he’d done. Dad and I, sometimes Tim, spent a good bit of the time at the gym, but Jerry made us look puny. Also he had a real nice smile, freckles, typical, “Irish mug”. Gotta ask him, where’s the red hair? Said his family was ‘Black Irish’, looked it up, yep, Black Irish from one part of Ireland. Guess that gave him his black hair, black eyes, deep field of soft black hair on his chest...maybe good sized cocks and balls came with being Black Irish cuz he sure had ‘em. In the shower, when I had time for him, just standing behind him, holding his big bag, squeezing it, getting him hard, yeah, that was a real good time...guess he liked it too cuz he’d turn around, both of us slick with soap, bring me to him, kiss me….said we didn’t even need to fuck...just stand there maybe until we ran out of water. Nor too long after that, we started having a quick shower but a long time in the bed back there. I’d screwed on the shower floor but that bed, warm, cozy, made to have sex on was just better. Also, only for Jerry, he’d come in late if I was gonna close for Burp, get us both cleaned up then spend the night.

From bed dates to his wanting real dates, you know, where you go out, grab a bite, do something-once he suggested miniature golf-hit a carnival if there was one in town, catch a game….he liked the ones played at the University, said watching guys play cuz they wanted to beat teams made up of paychecks who didn’t give a damn about anything except the money. But it was at a Lacrosse game that something happened, something that, while it didn’t worry me, made me think. Ran into some guy who knew Jerry, known him for quite a little time….talked about ‘time’ together then laughed. Looked at me, said, “Knew you’d pull a stud for a kid outa that pecker, you got a good one, too. Hey, you ever loan him out to old friends?” Jerry put his arm around my neck, pulled me to him, looked at the man real serious, said “Nah, this one’s a keeper….”

A lot there bothered me. You live in a bar as much as I did, you hear men talk about their past, not in code, just a certain way. Never got this guy’s handle but it was real clear to me they’d been around each other quite a bit just not recently. His thinking I was his son? Well, that day, we had on matching T shirts advertising, you can guess it, beer. Had our names on ‘em, His said “Jerry” but mine, he apologized, said they’d made a mistake, mine said, “Jerry, Jr.”.

Also Jerry wanted me to find a whole weekend, just us guys, fool around, do nothing just get out see what there was to do. Guy’s weekend. Use my motel place as sort of our ‘home base’, drop some clothes there, be comfortable, whatever we thought to do. All that going out and about seemed okay but, why not bring it up, wondered if he might like to stay at ‘home base’ and fuck? He kinda smiled, said, yeah, he thought we might do that. Fine with me, I told him, he was a good guy, had a swell time with him but...weekends with me at my place cost money. That’s just how it was unless Dad was having our place exterminated or something in which case he bunked in with me. (He and Tim had used it some nights when I worked late. Great, change of scenery can do great things for you….did for them or so I got told.) Also that’s where Dad showed Tim about some sex toys-he already knew ‘an used handcuffs-fuck, he’s a cop-so that was nothing new or different but some of what I had wasn’t in a cop car or on his belt. Gotta say, I’m not sure which they tried out, everything was neatly put back but when I mentioned it to Dad, he just smiled, winked then patted my bulge.

Like I said, you hear guys talk in a bar, what they say is mainly bs but here and there, words that mean something else, are there to tell someone something they’re not gonna say out loud. I kept going back to the guy we met at the game, what he and Jerry said to each other, also...if they were the buddies they seemed to be then why weren’t they in touch oftener? Or, looked like, at all. Somewhere in me I knew that Jerry and I were getting closer than just sex, showers and fooling around. What he said about ‘accidentally’ having my shirt say ‘Jerry Jr.”. I’ll take his word that it was an accident but there are all sorts of ‘accidents’, knew that from some ‘accidents’ I’d pulled off.

It got to the point that it ate at me so….one night when he was sleeping in with me, I got his billfold, copied some information, put it back and, the next time I saw Tim gave it to him, asked him to do some research. Surprised me, wasn’t too happy to do my snooping, but...fuck, I was sorta his kid, when I told him my reasons he came around, said, yeah, probably should be looked into. When he had a moment, he’d get a hold of someone who could look things up in records without any reason-normally, cops don’t just pony up a name, look it up just to see what’s what. After I got that done, like with things on a to-do list, once it was done, I forgot about it.

Jerry got real serious about our weekend so...I looked down what-or who-I had to do and found a Friday to Sunday slice of time, told him to meet me at my place after I got off at the saloon. Only thing that was a pain was that two hours before I’d set to meet Jerry-these things always happen-Burp had some sort of emergency, he had to go, no way around it….that left me. Also, it was Friday which meant it would run late. Shit. However, I’d worked there so long that I knew there were at least three guys I’d trust to take over for both Burp and me. Told them to put payment on the honor system, keep it down to a dull roar, don’t call the cops unless the blood was spurting, don’t break the windows….oh, and don’t call the cops. Actually the guys from the precinct were welcome but on a casual basis, out of uniform. BUT to have to call them meant the situation was out of control. That also helped me pick out my three, one was an ex con with a dirty sense of humor who had no problem throwing out drunks, sometimes the furniture, Will was the quiet sort, he’d be behind the bar but was quick with a shiv...finally AJ could work the floor, take orders, watch for any thing that might develop into something. I promised each of them the full shower, with bed afterwards, experience which seemed enough. Assuming all would be well….I headed for Jerry and the motel.

Walking in was almost like walking into my own home. Good smell of something cooking, a man waiting to take me in his arms, kiss me, tell me to get comfortable...did we want to shower and get cleaned up before or after dinner? It was hot, he’d worked all day so the idea of a good shower, getting clean, sit around in those nice big towels, relax...and what had he been cooking? I had a two burner, top of the counter thing for which I’d acquired some minimal cooking tools, some dishes, silver ware, apartment size fridge….few shelves for storage...a closet for clothes or whatever else you needed to store there. I’m selling it a little short, it was actually pretty nice and real comfortable. Over my ‘extended’ stay I’d upgraded a few things, better mattress, couple of recliners, larger TV than came standard….that I’d had a buddy hook up to the porn channels plus the usual cable shit. Maybe in my mind I wondered, if something were to happen, I could live there. That would have meant something happened to Dad but...one thing he had taught me, plan ahead.

This shower wasn’t like the one at the bar, this was genuinely about getting clean, losing the sweat from the day, ending up feeling better about life and the guy you were with. Knowing how to scrub him helped...when we finished, he was hard. Just to be a shit, I slapped his meat, told him he was ahead of schedule, put it back in the garage, we’d take it out to see what it was up to...later. He grinned, looked at me, kissed me but didn’t get soft. Only one thing to do, either tell him to jerk off or blow him. He was paying for this so… I blew him.

I had kinda forgot what it was like to just live someplace, have a guy with you, doing nothing much, maybe go out later, maybe check the box for something really raunchy-the porn channels are way ahead of anything on cable, good to just lean back, enjoy it, laugh at the mistakes they make in porn. (Two guys supposedly soldiers. Need to get their camos off to fuck….next scene, they’re hard at it but….ever try and take off any kind of pants with your boots still on? You can’t.)

It was good food, told Jerry that, said he’d learned when he was in the Navy, was a cook on a sub so you had to be able to rocket out really good food while doing it in a closet; What I had here was downright spacious. Some sort of veggie casserole-not something I usually will eat-steak, which he’d cooked on a grill outside the back door, store bought rolls, said we’d hit the Dairy Queen for dessert….always fun to share a banana split when you start at one end, your buddy is at the other, meet in the middle, lips covered in chocolate, pineapple….real good for kissing. Another clever idea, with the exception of the silverware, everything could be thrown in the trash; no clean up.

Just sitting at the table, looking at Jerry, thinking he’d gone to some effort to get this all together so we could have a good meal, some quiet, just two guys together….in my mind I couldn’t decide what to do next? Porn on the screen or make some in the bed. Hadn’t reached a decision when there was a knock at the door.

“You expecting anyone?”

I got up. “No, but guys know where I live, drop by thinking maybe I’ve got some time...they’ve got the cash.”

This time I knew the person; Tim. He pushed right on through with two uniformed officers.

“Jerald Atherton, you’re wanted for Capital Murder.”

No one said anything after that. Jerry stood up, turned, they cuffed him, took him out...I’m standing there with Tim who gave me a quick hug.

“Sorry, Pat, I’ll, Uh, come on home tonight, I’ll tell you about it. Please...Your Dad’s real upset, worried about you....” He paused, looked behind me at a bed not used, a TV not turned on, just a few crumbs of dinner left. “Please…..” He turned to go take care of his business while I sagged into a chair, wondering.

Dad, that’s who I needed….Dad.